Chapter 14
In hindsight, it made sense that Carmilla's home would look so nondescript on the outside. She was an arms dealer, and an experienced one at that. Far too many criminal kingpins of her caliber (especially on Earth) go all-in on the flashiness; giant mansions with golden doors and automated gates, infinity pools and elaborate fountains, fancy cars and personal aircraft...some even had exotic game animals as pets that would get free and completely screw up the local ecosystem.
Carmilla Carmine had been in this business for a long time. She knew better than to flash her wealth and influence when it wasn't necessary.
Instead, she saved the opulence for her home's interior.
The show room of Carmilla's shadowy estate was enormous, covered in a dark hardwood floor and carpeted in burgundy velvet, with a grand staircase leading up to an open second floor. Every square foot of floor and wall was covered in Carmilla's products: pistols, axes, long-guns, rocket launchers, grenades, swords and daggers, pole arms, assault rifles and machine guns, exotic whip swords and multi-pronged spears...if it shot, stabbed, sliced, smashed or shattered, it was either hung on the wall or protected under glass, with a price tag attached.
And every single one was made with Angelic metal.
If Fyewackett's eyes could grow any bigger, they'd probably pop out of his head. He immediately started making mental notes for possible purchases for the organization.
"We'll need to speak with my associates in order to properly ascertain your needs.", Carmilla said to Chay as she pulled out a two-way radio. "They're currently putting together last minute shipments in the stock room." She pressed the button on her radio. "Clara? Odette? We have customers. Over."
"Understood. Over.", said a voice.
"Following. Over.", said another.
A door slid open on the far side of the show room. Two more Sinners, one with dark skin and curly hair with black horns and coveralls and another with blonde hair, glasses, pale skin and a lab coat walked into the room. The one in the lab coat was flipping through pages on a clipboard. Like Carmilla, they both walked on the tip of metallica ballet shoes.
"Girls, this is Chay Ong. She's considering upgrading an original crafted piece."
The pale-skinned Sinner nodded in greeting. "Good evening, Miss Ong. My name is Odette, and this is my sister Clare." The other Sinner next to her nodded in kind. "If we could see the produce?"
Chay pulled the Apache out of her jacket pocket and carefully handed it over by the barrel.
The Sinner named Clara carefully grabbed the pistol and held it up in the light for her and her sister to see. She popped out the cylinder, looking of the tell-tale imprint.
"This gun has seen some significant wear…", Odette commented. "How long have you had this?"
"It's second-hand.", Chay answered. "It's been perfectly functional since I received it, however."
"It is definitely one of ours.", Clara said as she snapped the cylinder back in. "So what are you in the market for, upgrades-wise?"
Chay scratched her chin. "Well...what have you got?"
Odette looked over at Carmilla, who nodded her ascent. She reached into her lab coat and pulled out another remote, similar to the one held by Carmilla.
"The frame of the gun is fairly standard for our pistol line, so your options are quite varied…"
She pressed one of the remote's buttons. A sliding trap door opened up in the floor in front of her, where a platform containing a table with a pair of gun maintenance stands: one that was wide and vice-like for long guns, and one that was a vertical rod with a gripping claw for pistols.
"The grip, for example, can be easily replaced with a standard version instead of the knuckle duster. We can also switch out the six-shot cylinder for one that allows more ammunition…"
Clara reached into her coveralls and pulled out a screwdriver. She stuck the male end into the screw that held the blade and slowly began disassembling it.
"We can also replace this snub-nose barrel with a longer one if you're looking for greater range. And, of course, we can replace this blade with one that is entirely made of Angelic steel."
Chay raised an eyebrow. "You can do both? Wouldn't that effect the trajectory of the bullet? Not to mention the blade would be more prone to breaking..."
"It's Angelic steel, Miss Ong.", Carmilla answered from her side. "Nothing in all of creation can break it. Even melting it down for our products takes a considerable amounts of energy. Much more than what is needed for stainless steel."
"But the screw…"
Carmilla gave her that same lop-sided grin. "The screw device can be replaced with a pivoting switch blade one. Or we can simply move the dagger to the grip for a single-action feature. All up to you, of course."
"That would probably be for the best.", Fyewackett chimed in. "I'm honestly still confused how the original functioned as well as it did."
"Trade secret", Carmilla answered curtly. "Now, have you come to a decision Miss Ong?"
Chay looked at the disassembled pistol. She felt some odd bit of sadness; that gun had been a good companion these past few months, in spite of everything it was connected to.
-Fuck it. I can pay.
"You got anything that'll improve the grip on the knuckle duster?"
Clara looked at her sister. "Don't we have that iron knuckle/pistol grip combination?"
"Yes.", Odette answered as she removed the barrel. "Typically it only has surface level value, but in this case it would be an improvement."
"In that case…"
Chay pulled out her hellphone and pulled out her banking app. "Extend the barrel, replace the grip, and give me a ten-shot cylinder. If you can put the blade into the new grip, I'll pay extra."
Odette scribbled out some numbers on to her clipboard before handing them over to Carmilla. The Overlord's eyes scanned them before showing it to Chay.
"This is our asking price. Of course, I need be I can always have you pay it in installments-"
Chay's thumb pressed into her phone screen. "No need."
A buzzing came from Clara's coveralls. She pulled out her hellphone to look at the screen.
Her eyes widened with surprise.
"She...paid in full."
Carmilla, ever unflappable, simply nodded.
"Of course she did. That was just a formality.", she answered without skipping a beat. "I am still very curious about where you got that gun in the first place, Miss Ong."
"We already had this conversation.", Chay replied. "It was second hand...well, more like third hand, but still. You told me it didn't matter."
"You're right.", Carmilla said. "It doesn't. Not typically. But you're something of a special case…"
She turned around and walked over to Fyewackett, bending down to look at him at eye level. The little Imp's eyes widened.
Fuck me but she is terrifying, he thought to himself. Why is that so hot?
"You really think I don't recognize this uniform?"
...Oh fuck. She knows.
"You don't think I recognize one of the people who regularly attempts to hijack my supply trucks?"
Chay looked between the two of them. "What exactly are you implying, Carmine?"
"I'm not implying.", she said as she turned back to face Chay. "I'm accusing. I told you: I already know who you are, Miss Ong. I know for a fact that you're an agent of the ILF. I also know that your little organization was involved in the bombing of a certain sex club in Imp City."
Chay's eyes narrowed. Things were starting to get tense.
And where the fuck was Alastor?
"I don't exactly know why you would care, Carmine.", she answered.
She was answered by a loud, brash, and very British voice.
"She's saying she knows you killed Flynn, ya daft twat!", Velvette yelled from the second floor.
Striker stood on the sidewalk outisde of Carmine's building, eyeing the false wall. His eyes looked around, trying to find any possible security cameras.
Typically, the stealth thing wasn't his style. Time was, he was far more brazen and open about his work. Galloping in on his trusty steed Bombproof, guns akimbo and with his poncho swirling in the breeze. He had a brand to uphold, after all.
Then he'd bit off too much, and he had the burn scars to prove it.
Honestly, it was all pretty humiliating.
But hey, work was work, and in spite of everything his reputation still held up. At least if his current target was anything to go by.
But right now, said target was under royal protection, meaning that for all intents and purposes he was untouchable. So he was going to need something else.
He was going to need bait.
So...that meant more waiting. And he was getting mighty sick of waiting. Every moment he had to spend in this armpit of a city was one moment too many. Sinners were the absolute worst. No wonder the Angels came down here every year to massacre them in the thousands.
Either way, he wasn't going to get anywhere by seething about it. He just needed to do what he was paid to do, and then skip town before the annual slaughter-thon.
So, wait he did.
Only problem was, he wasn't alone.
He was being watched.
And he knew it.
"He knows we're following him, you know."
"I know.", The Sigh whispered as she looked through her binoculars. "That's the point."
"You want him to know we're tailing him? Why?"
"Because it's Striker.", she whispered back. "He doesn't do the stealth thing unless he absolutely has to. His ego won't let him do otherwise."
"Still not following your logic.", Jude said.
"I'm saying that he's not in his element. He's more prone to make mistakes."
"...Ah, meaning he'll be vulnerable."
She grinned as she replaced her binoculars. "I'm also pretty sure that he hasn't completely recovered from his injuries either."
She hopped off of her perch and made her way to the fire escape.
"I thought those scars looked fresh."
"Shit looks painful, that's for sure."
She quickly climbed down off of the building ledge and gently bounced onto the fire escape, where the ladder was already released.
"Plus, I'm also trying to confuse our pursuers..."
She grabbed both bars of the ladder and slid down.
Far up in Pride's red sky, a small and golden drone was watching the white-haired Imp wench climb down from the building.
"I suspect she already knows we're watching her, sir."
The drone's miniature camera focused in on the Imp as she dashed off into a nearby alleyway, turning over a trash can as she did.
"Awww, the little red bitch is tryin' to throw us off. Cute. Really cute."
"Or she's trying to throw off Striker. Either one is a possibility, sir."
"Uh huh, fascinating…"
The muffled sounds of chewing could be heard.
"Still doesn't explain why the Sigh is hanging around the princess's shithole."
"Because her fellow terrorists are being protected there, sir."
"I already know THAT! I'm talking about why they're hanging around that clowny cunt's hive to begin with. The fuck's she doing with a bunch of raggedy-ass bomb throwers like the ILF?"
"...Sir, do you think it's a possibility that-"
"-Yeah, I am. We know she's the one who woke them up in the first place when she ghosted on me last year. Me! After I ordered out for lunch and everything!"
"So then you think that she's using the ILF to make them spread?"
"What else do you think Anarchists are good for, Lute? I mean, besides making killer music and shit…"
"Causing destruction?"
"Exactly! We already know that those fuckers down there are capable of killing three of my girls, Lute. I'm not letting that happen again. If I can arm the bitches up before tomorrow night, we'll have a better chance of flattening that rancid shithole and everyone in it."
"I want to tear that traitorous bitch to pieces as bad as you do...but are you sure you want to make that big of a noise, sir? We're already on thin ice with the Seraphim."
"I know, Lute! I fucking know, but we still have a job to do, whether she realizes it or not."
More munching sounds.
"And what did I say about back-talking?"
CHAPTER 14 END
