Mister Charles's Story

Memory- A New Life.

Twenty Years ago.

The Thief knew he’d walked into shit storm but it was the kind of room you couldn’t walk out of once you’d stepped through the door. The Girl with revolver kind of gave off that vibe and the dead man slumped on the desk backed her up.

The Thief slowly raised his hands.

“There’s no problem here I never really liked…”

“Shut up. Nobody likes their fence.”

The Thief sighed.

“Hand it over, I don’t have to worry about noise here.”

He recognised the girl from the night before, not her face but the way she carried herself, loose yet alert with confidence. He also recognised the smell Jasmine or something like it. She didn’t look like how he imagined, with the mask and tough attitude he’d assumed tightly cropped hair and maybe a few battle scars. Her brunette hair was cut in a neat bob while her attractive face was unmarred. She looked to be around his age but looked at him like he were a child.

He’d met her inside the Wainwright Ranch in the dressing room of Mrs Wainwright. He’d been on a job and about to leave when he met her. Sometimes Two thieves bumped into each other on Hot Prowls especially with a prize like the Ocean Blue, a 420 Carat Sapphire set in the finest silverwork known on the Flats. It had travelled far to wind up in The Thief’s hands and the second he felt in in his palm he also felt the revolver against his neck.

He froze but then relaxed, he was staying silent to avoid detection and whoever had found him hadn’t fired which meant they were doing the same.
“You’re not going to shoot.” He whispered, aware the wainwrights were only in the next room and the place was crawling with guards.

The Thief turned from the safe and straightened up when he felt the weapon fall from his neck. He turned to face a woman dressed all in black with only her green eyes exposed.

“Adorable costume what’s the occ…”

“Shut up, give me the jewel.” She said quietly.

The Thief had no intention of handing over the Jewel, it was the biggest score of his life and he’d invested too much time and beads into getting it.

“Look we’ve both worked hard to get this so let’s talk deal.”

“I don’t deal.” She hissed as she pulled out a fencing sword.

“We’ve been over this, I’ll scream then we’ll both be in a world crap.” The Thief muttered.

“Not without a windpipe.” She said as she lunged at him.

Silently The Thief bobbed and weaved to avoid the incoming strikes. He got the feeling she wasn’t really trying to get him, more testing his reactions. He rolled to the right and came up with his own sword and rusty a battered looking cutlass.

“Look we can’t do this here. We can deal or arrange to slice each other up later but I’m not handing it over.”

A creak outside the door ended the conversation.

The handle of the door slowly twisted.

The pair stared at the handle which clicked.

Locked.

An explosion of buck shot tore the lock away and blasted the door open.

Time to leave The Thief thought. He looked back towards the woman but she was already making her way to the nearest window. By the time he got there she was
already through, The Thief poked his head out and looked up in time to see the woman’s foot come down on his face.

He fell out of the window and heard another roar from the shotgun. He landed with a thud that knocked the wind out of him. He was glad Mr Wainwright had shown when he had as it broke negotiations between him and The other Thief. He’d never seen her before and he didn’t recognise most of her gear but there was no time to focus on the mystery woman. He could hear the Wainwright Guards rushing towards him.

Quickly The Thief made his way to the stables and grabbed the first horse he saw. He then opened the gate and rushed the rest of the horses out into the Flats, no sense in the animals dying for his bad luck. There wasn’t time for a saddle so he just leapt on his steed, as he left he tossed a small smoke bomb into a pile of hay which quickly ignited.

“Should keep them occupied.” He thought as he sent the horse racing from the ranch.

He didn’t look back and figured if he ever saw the woman again it would be too soon.

Too soon was barely a day later in the office of his Fence the ironically named “Honest Sam Lovell”. Who was now “Dead Honest Sam Lovell” slumped over his desk.

“You shot Sam?”

“Yep he saw my face my face but you’ll be glad to know he told me all about you. I know where you sleep.”

“That an offer?” Thief said with crude smile.

“Only offer I’m making is the Ocean Blue for your life.”

“I’d take it.” A deep voice said behind him. The Thief inwardly sighed he hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room and knew he was trapped.

“Alright what’s to stop you killing me the second I hand it over?”

“My kind nature.” She said without a hint of a smile.

The thief sighed and pulled the Jewel out of his pocket.

“You had it on you?” She said incredulously.

“Safest place for it.”

“Clearly, hand it to my associate.”

He didn’t turn but instead handed the Jewel over his shoulder. He felt a strong hand clasp the Jewel and made his move.

Moving quickly he dropped to one knee and thrust his right elbow back. It caught the man behind him square in the groin. The Thief was counting on the woman not firing as it would endanger her associate. He spun around 180 degrees on his knee and shot to his feet bringing his knee up and into the large man’s nose. He then vaulted over the man, turned, grabbed a fist full of hair and wrenched the large Man’s head back.

The man was tall much taller than the thief had thought so he kicked out at the Man’s knees keeping him off balance as he reached into the Man’s holster and pulled out a revolver which he pressed against the man’s temple.

The Thief’s eyes fell on the Ocean Blue that had landed on the floor during the tussle.

He then looked at the Women who kept the Revolver pointed at The Thief.

“Alright, now we talk.” The Thief said.

Silence descended on the room.

“So talk, you broke my bloody nose.” The large man slurred.

“I’m not annoyed you killed Sam, he’s ripped me off more than enough in the past and probably had it coming, but I’m getting sick of you pointing firearms at me.” The Thief said.

“I told you he was good Ivan.” The woman said to the big man.

“Yeah I love him already.”

“Look I’m going to put my cards on the table here. I have no interest in this trinket, my only wish was to kill Mr Lovell.” She said nodding at Sam.

“Why?” The Thief asked.

“Reasons.”

“So let me take it and go.”

“I want to, but I also want to offer you an opportunity.”

“What?”

“Work with us you have the right attitude and with a few months of polishing you could have a very lucrative lifestyle.”

“Come on, you’ll have to try much harder than that.” The Thief said shaking his head.

The woman lowered her gun and pushed Sam’s body to the floor before sitting in the dead man’s chair. She put her feet up on the desk and produced a pipe.

“Do you know of The White group?”

“The White Group? Are you kidding? You’re scraping the barrel here Sweetheart. Any other Conspiracy theories you want to float? Father Singh being an Oni maybe?”

“It’s true.”

“Ha so you’re telling me I got the drop on two Assassins who, if the stories are to be believed, can walk through walls and kill a man with mind bullets?”

“That’s telekinesis, and those are just stories. Besides who said you had the drop on anyone?”

Like a dog that had just been let off a lead Ivan threw his head backwards and smashed into The Thief’s face. He then reached back and grabbed The Thief with one hand before throwing him over his shoulder. The thief crashed into floor and weakly brought the revolver up which Ivan simply kicked away.

The big man reached down and lifted the Thief to his feet before going to retrieve his weapon.

“Told you.” She said as she handed The Thief the Ocean Blue.

“Thanks.” The Thief said while he tried to get his blushing under control.

“The scores would be much bigger than this.”

The Thief looked at the Ocean Blue and at Sam’s body.

“Ok, where do I sign?”

“I sign, in Blood.”

The Thief turned to see Ivan’s fist driving for his face.

#

The Thief awoke in a cold room with a well-dressed man sitting opposite him.

“Where am I?” He groaned.

“Ah you’re awake, Mr Charles.”

“That’s not my name…”

“It is now. The man you were is dead. Alongside Mr Lovell, seems the entire office burnt to a cinder.”

“So it’s true?”

“What is?”

“You’re… The White Group?”

“No, I’m Fawkes but I’m a member of the White Group, The ringleader if you will.”

“So what now?”

“Training.”

The Woman and Ivan appeared from the shadows behind him. The Thief wished they would stop simply emerging from dark corners.

“I trust you remember Ivan and Clementine, They’ll be seeing to your training.”

#

The Present.

Mister Charles looked around His office, the same room he’d met Fawkes in all those years ago. He didn’t know it then but the three people in that room were to become the most important in his life. He’d seen them all die but he still had his memories.

The Ocean Blue hung in his office which had been Fawkes’ before him, he never sold it and true to her word Clem had no interest in it. There had been a time he wanted to give it to her but now it just hung on the wall, gleaming despite the low light.

He turned and looked at the stack of Papers sitting in front of him.

#


The Jobs.

Curtain Call.

Location: New Mesa

Target: Alfonzo Guerra

Information: Guerra is a highway man turned Gunfighter who in-between duels preforms a trick shooting show at New Mesa’s Ginger Cat Pub. The show makes him a fair income but it ensures him a never ending stream of challengers who Guerra will only fight in return for a hefty payment. As he sees it he’s already the best so why should he not get paid to fight.

The client wishes Guerra to die in a very public fashion so no sneaking through the window in middle of the night. They also stipulate that Guerra’s nickel plated revolvers are to be recovered as a trophy.

Guerra employs two bodyguards who were childhood friends of Guerra’s and should be considered very dangerous as well as loyal. They are Pepe and Diego Silvia, a pair of brothers who are known brawlers. Both are famed for their Physical strength and imposing demeanor. They are usually found fairly very close to Guerra. While it is not part of the job to harm the Brothers operatives should be aware of their presence.

Just Deserts

Location: The Badlands, Zeppo’s Camp.

Target: Zeppo

Information: Since Gretch took over New Mesa there has been a power vacuum in The Badlands. One group who simply call themselves Zeppo’s Crew are the odds on favourite to become the next biggest gang. This is because they have been raiding Trade Caravan’s travelling to Farpoint and trading the goods for weapons. We have been tasked by Happy Trail’s Caravan Company to find and kill Zeppo in addition to ensuring his operation is unable to continue in his permanent absence.

To help us in this Happy Trails has provided us with information on Trade Caravan routes. It’s down to the operative how they wish to play it. They can shadow the Caravans from a distance, go undercover as a guard or set out to find Zeppo by other means.
Zeppo is believed to have a penchant for blades and is lethally accurate with throwing knives. Like all Tribals he has a sadistic streak and has been known to torture survivors of his raids for days at a time.

Top tip is Ensure you don’t get caught.

Memory- Training.

Mister Charles didn’t love the White Group, not now, he was no longer capable of that. He understood it though and in many ways was the living embodiment of the White Group yet the Workshop brought him pain, from the memories it conjured.
However pain had always been part of his life in the Workshop, even in the early days when Ivan was teaching him how to fight like an assassin.

“Your style is about creating space, this makes sense as you were a thief and thieves defend themselves by concealment and escape. This will not serve you well here. Everyone in the White Group has their own style built around their abilities. I’m here to help you develop you own unique method of unarmed combat by offering some observations I’ve made over the years.”

Ivan was the White Group’s combat Expert back then, he didn’t use finesse or stealth to achieve his goals, just strength and superior firepower. His height and muscular bulk made any other way of fighting nonsense.

The Lessons were hard learned as Ivan didn’t really pull his punches when sparring, he said that it didn’t create a true representation of full combat. He was right of course but that didn’t mean Charles liked getting manhandled by the Mountain of muscle.

“Aggression is key my friend, you must always focus on creating maximum damage with as few moves as possible. There is no such a thing as a single knockout punch or at least there is no such reliable thing. Bones, organs and joints are reliable. Break a man’s leg and he cannot chase you. Break his fingers, he cannot shoot you. You must understand your violence must be brutal but efficient. All those flips and kicks you do, while pretty, ultimately achieve nothing if you fail to cause enough damage.” Ivan explained.

Charles started to work on his strength almost as much as his agility to give him more power and stamina during fights. He started to read medical texts with a particular interest in pressures points and joints. He brought this knowledge to his sparring sessions and Ivan began to notice.

“You see? Economy of movement is the most important thing you need to know in unarmed combat. Aggression must be controlled and released in these short movements. Now we move to the Sword.”

#

He found his sessions with Clementine to be more enjoyable these focused on agility and stealth, things Charles was already competent in. Within a week Clementine was confident in his abilities and they started going on field trips. They started simply by a bit of dipping and
shop lifting but soon they were on prowls on land and in the air.

For Charles these sessions were enjoyable because he excelled but also because he got to show her his abilities. He knew he was developing feelings for the woman but she wasn’t like the women he normally went for, to begin she was sober.

#

Fawkes was the leader of the White Group and rarely left the Workshop, Charles got the idea he was doing a lot more than just telling the assassins what to do but knew better than to pry. His main association with Fawkes was at the Firing range where the older man put him through his paces with various firearms. Charles had never fired an Old World gun before he joined the White Group, now it was a daily occurrence but back then it had been mind blowing.

“Habit, is what firing a revolver is all about. Fire one enough and it becomes an extension of the body much like a Master Blade’s Sword becomes an extension of himself, a Duellist’s pistols become an extension of his body.”

Fawkes had then handed Charles a revolver. The same Revolver Charles was looking at now, it was hanging on the wall of his office and hadn’t been fired for years. The reason was out of respect as this was the gun that had killed Fawkes.


Epilogues

Rice Carver of the Happy Trails Caravan Company looked at the reports on his desk, the fact they were there told him the Assassin had been worth it. The Caravans were getting through and trade was resuming. Zeppo had obviously met his end.

Of course now he had another problem, he hadn’t paid the White Group, the man who did that now stood in his office.

“I trust your problems have been solved?”

“Yes but I must ask why did you decide to help the company?”

“We both had an interest in seeing Mr Zeppo being removed. I didn’t wish to interact with the assassins directly so I used you as a middle man.”

“So that’s it?”

“Yes I have no further need of you or your company.”

“Oh.” Carter was relieved but there was something off about this man. His skin was a very pale and his accent suggested he wasn’t from The Flats.

“As I said before I’m a deeply private person and don’t wish my involvement in this matter to become anyone’s knowledge but our own.”

“Of course.” Carter got the feeling that the man was threatening him, subtly of course but it was there, in the edge to the Pale Man’s voice.

#

Miss Globe awoke and her hands instinctively went to her head to block any incoming attacks.

Slowly her mind caught up with instinct and the fight came back to her. The alarms had stopped and she was no longer in the Drawing Room but in the Mercenary quarters of the Parnassus.

She let out a roar of frustration and got to her feet.

#

“How could you let this happen? I was told you were the best? What exactly am I paying you for!?”

Wilian had not been understanding and she hadn’t expected him to be. The shame of failure burned her deeply and only her dark Ochillian skin saved her the shame of blushing in front of the man. Her pride was wounded along with her reputation, for an Ochil of her stature that
was unacceptable.

“Mr Wilan, you have my word the Rifle will be recovered and the intruder dispatched.”

That was all she said after Wilian had spent half an hour screaming at her.

She meant it.

As soon as the meeting ended she felt the shame fade and the fury build. Normally if a Man spoke to her like that he would he dead before he was a dozen syllables in but Wilian was her employer and he was right. Both things made the rage burn all the hotter.

“You did not quite live up to my expectations though.”

The jibe had hurt to and Miss Globe’s anger just continued to build until it suddenly broke and became controllable. She felt pain in her
hands and looked at her bloody palms. She was so angry and had balled her fists so tightly her nails had drawn blood.

She remained calm and thought logically. There had to be an insider, aware of their betrayal or not, but someone knew something and she was going to find out who. First she would need help to round up the Lion Heart Mercenaries and then see if they lived up to their name.

#

Hamud had been useless and killed himself before Miss Globe could conduct her ‘interview’. Others had been more forthcoming given the right motivation.

#

Treven was suspended by his wrists hanging over a pit, with his legs dangling over a starving, pack of dogs in the pit below him. His panicked flailing seemed to be get the dogs more riled up.

Miss Globe had to shout to be heard over the dogs.

“Who Stole the Rifle?”

“I don’t... what are you doing?” Treven moaned.

Miss Globe put her thumb down and Treven was dropped into the pit putting his legs within range of the snarling animals. He screamed as they bit at his legs, angry teeth tearing into his limbs.

Miss Globe watched for a few moment before bringing him back up.

“These dogs like Sausages, I’ll make sure they can reach yours next time.”

Treven was panting heavily. He’d tried to kick the dogs but there were just too many, his trousers were now a bloody mess and his legs ached. He watched his blood dripped onto the flurry of gnashing teeth below him.

“A woman, Hamud was speaking to a woman.”

Miss Globe became intrigued, so far he was the only one who had mentioned anything remotely related to the intruder.

“Tell me more.”

#

The dogs got their meal but apparently the boy didn’t agree with them so what was left of his body remained in the pit.

Miss Globe now had a name, Nyx, which wasn’t much but more than she began with.

Her new team consisted of just five, including herself, all were good at what they did and once more they owed her a favour. This Nyx was dead, it was just a matter of when.

Jobs.

Angel of Death.

Location: New Mesa, The Cavalier Building.

Target: Stella Knock, Jenks (Possibly).

Information: Stella Knock is an informant for the White Group who provides me with information regarding Gretch’s Organisation. As you all remember Gretch is the leader of New Mesa after a bloody coup inventively called the Battle of New Mesa or Kill Fat Nick Day.

Since killing Fat Nick, Gretch has mainly kept the status quo by continuing to run Fat Nick’s Casino and keeping the town in check with his own brand of brutal justice. Street executions and gory displays of ‘criminals’ is now common, perhaps suggesting Gretch’s tribal past.

Stella Knock is a dancer in the Casino and as such is privy to all sorts of information about Gretch and his organisation. However she was caught at one of our dead drops leaving some information for later retrieval. Stella was taken by Gretch’s men to the Cavalier Building, an old world building that was some kind of meeting hall that Gretch now uses as a storage area for Arms, Alcohol (pick some up if you get the chance) and whatever else he can sell in New Mesa.

Knock is no doubt being interrogated quite heavily by a man called Jenks who deals with internal security in Gretch’s organisation. I’d say Knock is not having too much fun in his company. Your objective is to get to Stella before she breaks and either rescue or silence her. She is now a liability to the White Group as her cover is blown. While she doesn’t know anything that would jeopardise us it’s probably not good having someone running around talking about us.

It’s up to the operative whether they wish to save or silence Stella Knock.

In the event that Stella has broken Jenks must be dealt with before he can make his report to Gretch who it seems to away at the moment, where exactly is unknown but he’s not in New Mesa.

Jenks is a wiry man and agile fighter who, like Gretch, specialises in the use bladed weapons, including throwing knives and the like. He is very slippery and will use misdirection in battle. The Cavalier Building will be very well defended as it houses Gretch’s wealth. Expect a lot of resistance around areas traditional burglars would use and access to be strictly limited.

Additionally this mission must be sensitive to Gretch’s Business interests, he has used our services in the past and any negative impact on his bottom line affects ours. Damage must not be caused to his goods while assaults on his personnel should be kept to a minimum.

Black Tie

Location: Farpoint.

Target : Hamish Waker, Petra Walker, Mary Walker

Information: Everyone in this room probably has something on their person imported by the Walker Clan and their Airships. They started out with a small caravan but quickly moved into Airships thanks to their father’s business acumen. Now Jones Walker is at death’s door and his four children’s minds have turned to who will inherit the company and fortune.

Mary is the youngest at only thirteen and has the weakest claim to the fortune however it is highly likely she will be included in some shape or form as she is her father’s favourite. It’s reported she reminds the old man of her mother. Petra is the third oldest and has a reasonable claim. She is 21 and involved with Lance Baggins, another useless person from a wealthy family. She enjoys being rich, vapid and hedonistic. The parties on her own Airship are reputedly the wildest one can hope to attend. Hamish is the eldest at 31 and has a strong chance of being announced the heir as he impresses his father with his forceful persona. I always found him to be supercilious and a bore, albeit a handsome one.

The second child is Hamish’s non identical twin brother Dylan. Dylan has been the brains of the company during his father’s ill health. He does not look like Hamish and by all accounts is quite sickly looking, yet he is considered to be one of the most intelligent men on The Flats. I’ve only met him once years ago and like his brother found him to be a bore, however unlike his brother the man is a bag of nerves. He is not to be harmed in any way during the operation and if any attempts are made on his life they are to be prevented if possible. He has his own security team but it’s in our interests to keep him alive.

Hamish, Petra and Mary are all to be assassinated however the killings must not implicate Dylan in any way. As the more astute of you may have out together Dylan is the client.

These objectives are to be achieved during a birthday party held in honour of the elderly Jones Walker. I’ve heard it said it’s to be his last and he will most likely appear to be very unwell. Nothing untoward is to happen to him. The party will take place on board The Skywalker, the family’s flagship and is a black tie event so dress accordingly. There will be security people as well as other members of staff you would expect at a society dinner. There will most likely be a high turnover of deliveries to the Skywalker during the day. Staff onboard the ship will not change and is a tight knit group so avoid impersonating them as you will be likely to be found out should you encounter any.

The Desert Dash

Location: Skycove

Target: Corvin Reynolds

Information: Reynolds is apparently an ex-devotee from Hope who escaped and was able to liberate a few books from the Library at Hope. As you know the Library at Hope is a shrine to Old World Technology and as such the books Corvin Reynolds has might contain information about research and development going on at Hope. Valuable information.

Corvin has been on the run for nearly two weeks now and made it as far as Skycove, not bad considering this is probably his first time in the Flats and he’s on foot. He needs a buyer for his book so he can escape The Flats and the homicidal team of Guardians hot on his tail.

That’s right. Guardians.

There’s no way Singh was going to take this lying down so apparently he dispatched four of his best to find Corvin. They will be working as a team which means there is no chance of you taking them. The Guardians of Hope are the only group on the Flats comparable to our own and in terms of skill our only main difference is they use small units while we use single operatives. Engaging the Guardians is suicide.
Therefore your only chance is to get to Corvin first, secure the information (which I’ve been told is two weighty books) and escape.
Maybe setting up Corvin to be killed by the Guardian’s in enough but as I said before do not engage them unless you wish to find yourself out manned and out gunned by a technologically superior foe.

I’m allowing a supply of funds for this Job and you can collect the beads from the armoury. Obviously Corvin cannot know he is selling us the Book the alias is up to you.

Epilogues.

He had hoped to meet at least a representative of Dylan Walker but instead he got a courier. It was to be expected, Walker had a lot to prepare now he was running the largest courier company on The Flats so a young nervous looking Courier was all he was getting. The Shady Dune Pub was the location of the meeting as Charles knew the owner, an old Ochillian by the name of Thuum Re who had helped him out years ago.

Mister Charles opened the sack the courier had dropped on his desk and the amount of beads contained within almost took his breath away. Clearly Dylan Walker had wanted his family dead quite badly. Under the leadership of Dylan the Walker fortune was in a good hands and Mister Charles knew he probably had a repeat customer on his hands, the first contract is always the hardest, in time Dylan would be calling hits for the slightest inconvenience which was very good for business.
“I assume you know what’s in this bag?”

“Yes.” The courier said wiping her dirty, sweaty brow. Her skin was tan from working in sun a striking contrast to Mister Charles’ pale hands. The question made the girl nervous and that told him she hadn’t stole. He grabbed a handful of beads and dropped them into her hands.

“For your trouble.”

The girl beamed and walked away. Even now he liked to make a woman smile.
Charles stood and began making his way back to The Workshop.

#

Ada was not a woman Charles could make smile, she simply dropped the book on his desk along with some left over beads which Charles found strange. He had expected Ada to pocket any change, he shrugged and put it down to some residual Guardian sense of honour.

He opened the sack and tore into the books which smelt faintly of decay. The first was a useless religious text explaining Father Singh’s beliefs. It was interesting, but ultimately worthless. The second and third were more his speed.

The first described a type of weapon modification called The Whisper. It attached to the barrel of a rifle and reduced the noise made by the rifle report. This was something he could use. The third book was another design manual that described an item called a “Cradle”. The cradle was a small balloon, much like one would find on an airship except much smaller, that was capable of lifting a single person. The idea was it could be used as a kind of “life boat” should an Airship go down. He was sure the White Group could find another use for it. Although it was interesting that Hope was looking at developing such a thing, to his knowledge Hope had no fleet.

#

A few days later the Armoury had working prototypes of both the whisper and the cradle. The Whisper had since been renamed a Silencer as Kincaid the armourer, thought it sounded “less fruity”. Kincaid was a large man with a thick beard almost as course as his attitude. Charles didn’t pay him for company though he was a fine gun and blacksmith.

“Can you get it on a revolver?”

“No chance. Only rifles and then only old world stuff.”

Charles shrugged it was better than nothing. He lifted a rifle with the Silencer attached and shot a target down range. The noise of the rifle was noticeably lessened but no to the extent Charles had wanted.

“It doesn’t sound much different.”

“Aye but we’re indoors and standing right beside the gun. At 300 meters outside, well you’re not hearing a thing, apart the screams of the bloke who just got shot.”

“Maybe when you’re shooting Kincaid. My people drop them first time.”

“Aye, I’m in a perpetual state of awe by your crew’s sheer lethality.” The Smith deadpanned. “Wanna see the Balloon?”
The balloon was contained in a large case alongside a large heater. In about ten minutes Kincaid had a fully inflated balloon in the middle of the range.

“Now that’s just me putting it up I’m sure your gang of motherless killers could do a far better job than a lowly blacksmith.”
Mister Charles looked at the balloon and let a small smile play across his lips. He liked Kincaid giving him a hard time every now and then, it made him feel like less of a boss.

“You did just fine Kincaid.”

#

Arachane finished the story of her hit and Charles nodded, seemed like all objectives were met but the yellowing bruises on the woman told him that the fight may not have been as easy as she claimed. Nevertheless all Mister Charles needed was Knock taken care of. Arachne’s beads would be left in her room as usual.

#

A tall muscular man was standing over the body of Jenks. They called him Gretch but nobody knew his real name. Rumour had it he was a demon sent torture the Flats, others claimed he had been a Confederate Solider driven insane by violence others said he woke up one in day in a riverbed before deciding to take over New Mesa. The facts were he’d united disparate Tribal Clans into a cohesive and highly successful gang. He’d done this through force of personality and acts of extreme barbarism.

Then he turned his attention on New Mesa and Fat Nick. Now all Gretch wanted was a quiet life, wenches, lots of shine, a little spice and the occasional slaughter. What he did not want was dead traitorous wenches and dead loyal Men. Jenks had been with Gretch for a long time and now the big idiot was dead.

“Put the Bitch’s head on a stick and let all the girls see it. Make it seem like we did it. Then ask ‘em lovelies if they know anything about what old Stella was up to.” Gretch said before spitting on the woman’s corpse.

“Sure thing Gretch.” One of his boys said.

“Lefty and you. Go bury Jenks. Give him something with a nice view, like looking at the cathouse. Real peaceful.” He had pointed at two men one of whom had replaced his missing right hand with a hook.

Gretch’s eyes blinked asynchronously at the body of Jenks before shrugging and leaving. While his men trusted their leaders judgement and knew better than to cross him his blink was a trait everyone found unsettling.


Memory- The Wildcard.

Eight years ago.

The Workshop had changed Charles, he wasn’t the boy he’d been twelve years ago. The turning point had been happened in his second year working with the White Group when he’d killed a child who’d spotted him, at the time he didn’t even think about it. Witness versus Corpse wasn’t even a decision regardless of age, gender, race or sexual orientation. When he got back to the workshop however the decision weighed heavily on him, his mistake had cost a child his life. Ivan hadn’t cared much simply saying it was part of the job while Clem said it was something he’d get over, only Fawkes truly understood.

“Sometimes in this line of work things don’t pan out. We have to deal with it. Ivan uses aggression while Clementine promises to do a better job next time. You think deeper, sometimes that’s a good thing helps you understand people and a hunter must know his quarry. I’m the same way, that why I do the things I do.”

Fawkes passed him a cup brimming with clear liquid that, from the smell Charles knew, was Shine. He took a sip and Fawkes passed him a pipe laden with Stumble. He took a long drag and felt a wave of calm pass over him.

“People like you and me we’re no different from the spice junkies up there, except we get the kicks from the adrenaline, the drugs just numb the memories.”

From then on, at least once a week, Charles and Fawkes would go on a bender usually after a particularly bad mission. Over time though Charles knew his heart was hardening, he’d killed all kinds of people most of whom didn’t deserve it, just like the kid. Still some jobs stuck with him.

#

He was returning from one such mission when his world changed. He’d taken out a singer by the name of Molly Montana a beautiful woman with an even prettier voice. It wasn’t so much the killing than the reason, a jilted lover had called the hit. He did that kind of thing a lot but this time it seemed like such a waste to take something beautiful out of the world for such a petty reason. It wouldn’t keep him awake at night but it depressed him.

#

He stowed his kit and went to debrief Fawkes who would be in the office. He already knew something was wrong as the metallic smell of blood hung in the air, a normal smell in the sparring room but not in the office. He pulled out his sword and kicked the door open.

Fawkes was broken, his limbs were limp and bloody with bone erupting from skin while the elderly man’s face was a pulpy mess. A long blade was buried in his chest pinning the man to the table.

Charles reacted instantly by trying to stop the bleeding.

“What happened?” He asked knowing Fawkes didn’t have much time.

“Ivan… he betrayed…”

“What? Why?”

Fawkes spluttered, the old man would expend the last of his breath giving Charles one last job.

“He’s taking over the group… Escobar too. I discovered… He knew…”

“Bastard.”

“Clementine… he…”

“He what? Where is she?”

“The ship… the Wildcard.”

“Got it.”

Fawkes grimaced with the pain, unfortunately there was still some life left in the old man. Ivan had done just enough damage. Charles wondered why he’d left him alive at all, he had to know Charles would pursue him then he realised that’s what Ivan wanted. Charles running around was a liability so Ivan had taken Clementine to force Charles to come at him. Under other circumstances Charles would have taken his time and planned an inspired response. Now he had to avenge Fawkes before Ivan killed Clem.

Fawkes cleared his throat and jabbed his chin toward a revolver on the wall.

“I couldn’t trouble you…” He groaned.

Charles lifted the revolver and sent Fawkes to the same place he’d sent countless others.

#

Two days later Charles was ready, he’d sunk a lot of his own cash into the plan. The Airship along with the explosives had eaten into his beads but he didn’t expect need them much by the time the night was out.

Ivan’s Airship was called the Wildcard while Charles’ was called the Grant. It was a dilapidated old thing but he didn’t intend to be on it for long. The Grant was purely divisionary while a much smaller gondola would deliver him to his target. Under the cover of a moonless night he launched his plan.

#

Fat Nick Escobar ran New Mesa like a Mafia Enterprise. His sole interest was the accumulation of beads and power. When Ivan presented a business proposition to him Fat Nick was powerless to resist, his own army of Assassins trained by a member of the White Group along with access to the White Group files. It was too good an offer to pass up. He planned to go to war with Hope as the God Squad up North had been interfering with his business practices of late. He was going to use Ivan to take them down. All Ivan needed was an airship and some men which Fat Nick was happy to provide. He gave Ivan the Wildcard, Fat Nick’s security vessel and a crew of his best men. This was where Charles would meet Ivan and have his vengeance.

#

Ivan was waiting for Charles he knew he’d come for Clementine, who he’d locked in the lower decks, after breaking all her fingers of course. She was still dangerous even if she had been beaten like a dog by Fat Nick’s Men, Ivan thought that had been too much but the men Fat Nick had provided were not professionals. The Mayor of New Mesa who would one day be deposed by the man they called Gretch had bankrolled Ivan’s scheme as he would gain not only the means to train an army of assassins but also the information the White group had collected over the years. Even Fat Nick could see the advantages of having such information.

Ivan was in control of the operation while Fat Nick just provided the beads, weapons and man power. This worried Ivan as Nick’s men were not trained to any standard while the weapons were all New World crap still the beads were good. Ivan knew well enough that numerical superiority was exactly the kind of thing Charles has spent a career overcoming, however this time he would be trying to sneak by another assassin. Ivan had placed men at all the weak points on the Wildcard and had tried to educate Nick’s men about techniques Charles would be likely to use. That had been a waste of time, the men were more interested in posing with their new guns and trying to stare down Ivan. The assassin threatened their masculinity due to his size and prestige, Ivan put an end to threats immediately by breaking the spine of the largest man he could find and threw him overboard. They didn’t listen any harder but they feared him.

“There’s a ship approaching.”

The Captain of the Wildcard was a stout man called McCarthy who Ivan didn’t like because he viewed him as an incompetent. Ivan was standing on the bridge on a cloudy night with only the light of flaming torches to guide his way.

“Well tell them to leave and send a warning shot.”

McCarthy complied and then came back to Ivan.

“They ain’t slowing.”

“Blow them out of the sky then.”

Ivan already had an idea what was happening. Charles was going to ram the Wildcard and then use the ensuing panic to get aboard. Unfortunately Charles didn’t know the Wildcard had been outfitted with extra cannons, something Fawkes didn’t even know. The opening Salvo battered the hull of The Grant beyond recognition but still it kept coming.

“He’s committed now, no sense backing down. Keep firing.”

The Grant withered under the torrent of fire but still the flaming wreck kept bearing down on the Wildcard.

Finally the Grant erupted into a ball of flame and seemed to hang in the air for a second before plummeting to earth. In that moment Ivan realised his mistake.

“Bring me Clementine. Charles is on board.”

“What do you mean the ship got nowhere near us?” McCarthy asked.

“Did you see that explosion? It came from inside the ship our weapons didn’t do that. It was a distraction.”

“Maybe we hit the Ammo Cache?”

“Nobody keeps their ammo that close to the hull. Besides did you see anyone on that ship?”

“No.”

“No Crew, no nothing. So it was a fire ship, a diversion. Go get Clem and search the ship.”

#

Clementine wasn’t cuffed or otherwise restrained as her broken fingers prevented her from doing much. She saw no point in speaking to Ivan, he had made his choice. Instead she stood on the deck and wondered how many she’d be able to take out before they got her, her mangled hands of course meant she’d only have her feet which was something of a handicap. One of Fat Nicks boy’s was holding a revolver to the back of her head and until he was dealt with the number remained at zero.
McCarthy appeared beside Ivan and informed him Charles had been found in the lower decks while planting a bomb. The men had also discovered other bombs dotted along the ship.

“Bring him up.”

Charles emerged into the cool night air a few moments later flanked by three armed guards with his hands bound in irons. Ivan remained impassive.

“Good now everybody’s here we can begin. I’m sorry things worked out like this. Fawkes forced my hand.”

“So you tortured him? Traitor.” Clem said through gritted teeth.

“That was unavoidable. He was unreasonable. Beside you owe him nothing what did he make us give? For what? For Who? The highest bidder. We do the deeds and get none of the power.”

“We got paid.” Charles said.

“Hardly enough, not for what we did.”

“You threw everything away for more beads?”

“Influence Charles. Think about all the warlords we brought down, all the business we directly created. We could run this place if we just used our abilities to our own ends. We could shape this place make it our own.”

Charles snorted his derision.

“Alright Charles is it worth it? He turned you into a drunk just so you could sleep at night.”

Charles’ eyes dropped at the barb.

“He wasn’t one of us. Fawkes had no ambition.”

“I’m only interested in the beads. If I was living any other way I’d be dead by now, Fawkes saved me. This is how you show gratitude bringing this rabble into the workshop and murdering him?”

“Of course not I intend to start where Fawkes left off. That means keeping some secrets. I did that job myself.”

“So that’s what it’s all about you wanted to be in charge.”

Ivan shook his head slowly, Charles wasn’t getting it. He pulled a revolver out but kept it at his side.

“The bombs were are they?”

“Your boys got them all.”

Ivan looked at him and sighed, he’d lost the ship.

“I don’t believe you. I’m evacuating the ship.”

“Uh we can’t do that.” McCarthy mumbled.

“What?”

“The Gondolas, He’s cast them all off. There’s no lifeboats.”

Ivan rubbed the bridge of his nose something he did when stressed.

“The bombs Charles. These idiots found what you wanted them to find. Just like that stunt with the Airship. Tell me how’d you
get aboard?”

“Gondola then skyhook. Shot the Balloon out to send the gondola back down.”

“Cute. Search the lower decks again he’ll have placed the largest bomb first.” He pressed the revolver against Clem’s head.
“Bombs or Clementine.”

Charles looked at the woman and let his eyes drop.

Ivan shrugged and pulled the trigger. Clem’s head erupted across the deck as she pitched sideways and over the railing of the boat.

Charles wanted to save her but knew it was a slim chance. He’d made his choice, if he mentioned the Cargo net filled with explosives he’d pinned to the keel of the Wildcard they were both dead anyway. Of course the smaller bombs were distractions for the benefit of Fat Nick’s men. He had attached the large bomb to the underside of the Wildcard on the structurally sensitive Keel which if broken would destroy the entire ship. His placement was perfect he just had to make sure it wasn’t found.

“You loved her but you let her die. For Fawkes? That’s you all over Charles, dedicated to the mission but never a friend. You leave me no choice so we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way.”

Ivan produced a long sword while Fat Nick’s men grabbed and restrained Charles. Ivan lightly stabbed Charles in the shoulder.

“Next one is in your eye.”

Charles gritted his teeth, winked and opened his eyes was wide as possible. It was getting near time anyway.

“Alright.” Ivan slowly brought the Blade towards Charles’ face.

That’s when the explosion tore through the centre of the ship.

#

When Charles came to he was upside down and looking at the Desert floor about a mile beneath him. His vision was blurry and it felt like something was in his eye. He gingerly checked it with his hand and pain shot through his head. A long cut ran down his forehead through his left eye and down to his chin. Obviously the explosion had jerked Ivan’s hand at the cost of Charles’ eye.
He looked up towards the Wildcard which was in a particularly bad shape. The explosion had broken the Keel which was the back bone of the ship. The ship had then collapsed under its own weight severing the bow from the stern. Both of which now hung from the balloon by their rigging at a ninety degree angle. The shifting weight had set the balloon off balance and the whole thing tilted by forty five degrees toward the heavier stern like a set of scales.

Charles was still alive as his foot had become entangled in some rigging leaving him dangling from the whole flaming broken mess. He reached up and grabbed his leg with his still cuffed hands before grasping for the rope. He then started the slow climb up. Occasionally he’d hear a scream as another person passed him on their way down a very abrupt landing. He wondered if Ivan was among them but in his heart he knew he wasn’t that lucky.

He found himself climbing into the galley which had been torn in two by the explosion, he slowly worked his way toward the door which was directly above him by climbing on the various cabinets that were nailed to the walls. A job easier said with cuffed hands. Eventually he made it to the door which he climbed through and kicked shut. At least now he had a floor between him and ground a mile below. He allowed his eyes to adjust before looking at the cuffs.
They were a simple new world affair. Crudely made which meant picking them took only a few seconds. Fat Nick’s Boys hadn’t noticed the thin set of picks when they patted him down. Typically they removed his weapons and Skyhook but never bother to look closer. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw a man slouched in the corner.

One of Fat Nick’s Boys.

The man was baked, his face was a hard crust of ash. This man had been very close to the explosion when it went off. His revolver was write off, the bullets all discharged due to the intense heat of the explosion thus destroying the weapon. The man did have an undamaged knife and slightly sooty but otherwise unmarked cutlass as well as a skyhook. Not the best weapons but they would serve his purpose.

He began to climb higher using the skyhook or furniture that was nailed to the walls as holds. It was slow, hard work and the higher he got the worse the smoke got until he was standing on the Bow of the Wildcard. He wiped his brow an instant before a bullet whizzed by his head. He looked down to see Ivan clinging to the hull aiming another shot. Quickly Charles jumped onto the rigging and began to climb as yet more rounds whistled past.

The Bullets were penetrating the balloon but like most high class Ships the Wildcard’s Balloon was actually made of many smaller Balloons inside a large one so a single shot would not be able to bring the entire ship down. Although a quick blast of escpaing hot air hit Charles whenever a shot hit the Balloon.

Charles began to hack at the rigging beneath him that was holding up the Bow. Ivan seeing the danger began his ascent in earnest. He leapt just as Charles sliced the last rope sending the Bow plunging towards the desert.

Of course this redistributed the weight and sent the balloon straight up. Now the Stern and Balloon looked like a giant exclamation mark with a flaming point. Charles began to climb with Ivan in pursuit. The larger man would be sure to defeat him in a straight fight.

Charles was running out of Balloon to climb when he got the idea. He produced the knife and threw it into the Balloon just in front of where Ivan was climbing the blast knocked the larger man aside temporarily. Charles turned so his back was toward the Balloon and held himself in place with rigging. He then placed the Cutlass between him and the surface of the balloon .

Then he let go.

He was falling so fast that all he felt was a tickle at the back of his neck as the hot blasted out of the balloon as his cutlass tore at it. He was gaining speed by the time he reached and passed Ivan.

The massive blast of Hot air blew the man clean off the side of the balloon . Charles started grasping wildly for purchase as soon as he saw the Ivan lose his grip. He was nearly at the bottom when his hand found a lose piece of rope. He swung wildly and a large arc before slamming into the stern. He felt ribs crack but held on while gasping for air while his cutlass fell from his hands.

“Charles!”

He looked down to see Ivan beneath him aiming the revolver.

Charles groaned and let go of his rope.

He crashed into Ivan and both men started to fall.

Twisting and turning in the air. Ivan began landing punches while Charles grabbed for the dead man’s Skyhook he’d taken earlier and pressed it into the Ivan’s chest before pulling the trigger.

The claw burst through Ivan’s sternum and out his back before finding purchase somewhere on the stern of the Wildcard.

Charles clung to the pistol grip of the skyhook while Ivan coughed blood onto his head.

Charles looked up in time to see the life drain from the large man’s eyes.

He tried to pull himself up but the busted ribs exploded with pain.

Ivan’s blood was getting in-between his fingers making the skyhook slippery . He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on.

Then he was falling.

#

He woke up on the ground and tried to decide what hurt the most. He settled on his leg which was unresponsive and twisted the wrong way. The Stern was a lot lower than he’d thought probably due him tearing a large gouge out of the side, while the combined length of the Skyhook line and dangling Stern had got him a bit closer to the ground. It was still a hell of a fall and it looked like his right leg had taken the brunt of.

He could still see Ivan suspended in the air silhouetted by the flaming remains of the ship.

That’s what he was looking at until he lost consciousness.

#

He woke in a tent with a young Ochilian girl looking at him.

“Hello.” She said with a smile.

“Hello.” Charles said weakly.

“You took a real big fall Mister.”

“I know.”

“Broke your leg up real bad and your face… it’s baaaad, Mister.”

“Call me Charles. Where are your parent’s?”

“I’ll go get them Mister Charles.”

Charles let his head collapse back into the pillow.

He sat up again when he heard someone enter the tent.

It was an severe looking Ochilian man dressed in robes.

“I am Thuum Re, you are Mister Charles.”

“Yes, Thank you for saving me.”

“Old Ochilian saying ‘Words get Words Actions get beads.’”

Charles nodded.

“Get me to a Doctor called Bond in Farpoint. I can pay you there.”

Thuum Re’s face cracked into a smile.

“Good deal. Good deal.”

#
Over the following weeks the Re’s nursed Charles back to health before dropping him at the Dr Bond’s office in Farpoint. They were paid handsomely for their services. Charles’ leg still worked but he walked with a limp and his acrobatic days were over. His left eye was a ruined and the long scar on his face would be a constant reminder of his failure.

After a few Months he was able to return to the work shop. He went directly to Fawkes office. He’d buried the body along with the other staff who’d died in the Workshop when Ivan attacked but the room was still a gory mess. He never thought he’d be able to clean the blood out while the smell of death seemed to hang in the air no matter what he did. He thought it was fitting.
Ivan was true to his word and it seemed like the location of the Workshop was one he took to his grave. The library was still intact was the armory which meant Charles had everything he needed to rebuild. All he had to do was a recruitment drive.

Jobs.

Don’t Pillage the Village.

Location: Tarkan

Objective: Defend the Village of Tarkan, eliminate the threat presented to Tarkan by the Coral Snakes Gang.

Information: Tarkan is a new world Shit hole in the middle of the Badlands. Now that’s out of the way I can explain why you’re going there. The town was built on a supposed bead mine and many people from Shade City decided to move and try to make a life there. Around fifty families made the move. The village it’s self is very basic with the only places apart from homes being an infirmary and few sheds containing mining equipment and the like. The Tarkan mine is quite extensive and has produced a reasonable amount of beads not as many as expected which lead to some families leaving.

The trouble for Tarkan started when a Gang of about thirty Raiders calling themselves the Coral Snakes. The snakes demanded a cut and apparently things got a little heated and the miners backed down. The Snakes started taking liberties with the Town’s women and girls which was resulted in us being contacted. The client is the entire town you have been saving beads to pay for you.

The objective is simple end the influence the Snakes have on this town while preventing loss of life. There are currently forty men women and children living in Tarkan among them around fifteen willing to fight alongside you. These people are miners however and as such have no combat experience, I’m sure you could find a use for them.

While destruction of the town is possible please try to leave them something to at least work with.


The Deal.

Location: The Flats.

Objective: Eliminate Rivan Kytl. Secure beads and destroy Gatling gun.

Information: Rivan Kytl is an Ochilian arms dealer who is attempting to sell an Old World Gatling gun. It’s similar to the ones found on the Old Walls of Hope. Kytl found the weapon and had it broken down for movement. The weapon it’s self is very large and incredibly heavy and was designed as a static defence. Kytl works only with other Ochilians on his crew and as he believes he can trust them. For our purposes that means they are nimble and deadly.

Kytl is meeting with representatives of an interested buyer called Mr Autumn. Autumn will not among them however it is believed these men are actually Specials for the Confederate Army. Confederate sightings have been up and if reports are to be believed this is possibly the first wave in an invasion force. As always The White Group remains impartial in such matters.

The Gatling Gun must be destroyed how this is achieved is up to the operative. Just keep in mind those Ochilians are smart and can spot an imposter easily.

Protection.

Location: Skycove.

Objective: Protect Jenner Reese, Deliver Jenner Reese to the Airship Horus.

Information: Jenner Resse is 21 year old woman from the Peaks who is under threat. Her Father is an influential man in The Northern Peaks District called Cal Reese. Jenner ran away from about a year ago and made her way down to the Flats where she’s been working at a Pirate place called Kiladeys serving grog to drunks. I don’t really get it either but apparently The Peaks is a lot more conservative than The Flats so maybe it was a youthful rebellion thing.
In any case her father has become embroiled in a private war up in the Peaks which turned personal when the families got dragged in to it. So far Reese has lost a son and two daughters so he is understandably concerned about Jenner. His rival is a man called Mozambique who has also lost family at the hands of Reese. It’s a pissing contest that got out of hand. In any case Mozambique has put a price on the rest of Cal Reese’s children.
That means every two bit hitman or gun slinger from across the Flats is gunning for Jenner Reese. It your job to make sure Jenner survives long enough to get to a passenger Airship called the Horus that is docking at Farpoint in four days. Your contact on board the Horus is a Mercenary called Mr Costner that will bring her safely back to The Peaks.
The young Jenner is apparently identifiable by her flame red hair and freckles. She is currently held up in the Thorny Rose Inn at Skycove after surviving an attempt on her life. She knows people are looking for her but whether or not she actually wants to go back to The Peaks is another issue but not we need to be concerned with. Get her Farpoint, on the Horus and into Costner’s hands. You will receive payment there.

Gretch groggily got to his feet and pulled a knife from his coat but he was far too late, Alexander had long since left.

“That little fucking cun...”

“Boss!” Max burst into the room interrupting Gretch . His gun was drawn and he instinctively checked the corners of the room. Gretch noted the small but important display of tactical knowledge. His replacement for Jenks might be a fool but he knew how to handle a gun.

“What the fuck just happened Max? Who was that fucker with Skycove Smile?”

Max knew Gretch was referring to the intruder with the cut up face.

“Dunno Boss, but I know who might know. You know Jimmy No lips who drinks in Gregger’s?”

“How many people do you think live in this town are called Jimmy and also have no lips? Of course I fucking know him! Get to the point!”

Gretch was pacing like a caged animal, he wanted blood and come hell or high water he was going to get it.

“He says he saw the Bartender talking to the guy.”

“Who? The Ochillian?”

“No the woman, whatdaya call her. She only pours drinks.”

“Harper Bell, frigid bitch.” Gretch muttered as he went for the door.

#

Sixty seconds later Gretch was barrelling through the front door of Gregger’s. His nose was still a bloody mess from where Alexander had broken it but he still brought enough fear with him to silence the entire bar. It wouldn’t heal right but Gretch didn’t care. He stood in the middle of the bar and dared anyone to make eye contact.

“Jimmy?” He said finally to the room.

“Yeah?” A hideously ugly man nervously replied from one of the tables. True to his name Jimmy no lips had no lips after an unfortunate tryst with a tribal who was going through withdrawal. Apparently she’d chewed the lips right off his head while he was passed out drunk.

“The little fucker who was in here, chased the girl, who was he talking to?” Gretch asked but his eyes had already fallen on Harper Bell.

“Her!” Jimmy shouted releasing a rope of spit from his disfigured face as he pointed a trembling hand at Harper.

“Everybody out! Now , Now, Now!” He yelled pointing at the door.

“Go on off you fuck!” He said as the crowd made its way past him and toward the door. Harper didn’t move as she was transfixed by Gretch’s stare.

Once the bar was empty Gretch pointed at Harper. Max and another of Gretch’s boys grabbed hold of the woman and sat her down at one of the tables. Gretch removed his Duster and gently draped it on the chair opposite. Finally he removed a large cleaver from his apron and set it in the fire that was burning under the hot water stove.

Silence reigned once again.

“Grecth you can’t trust...” Harper started.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Gretch screamed his face inches from Harper’s.

The silence was thick and oppressive for a few more minutes while Gretch lifted the cleaver and tapped a knuckle to it. A sizzling sound told him it was ready. He returned it to the fire and pulled out a second Cleaver.

“Arm.” He said.

Max grabbed Harper’s left arm and held it out straight on the table. Gretch shimmied up to the table and watched Harped squirm for a few seconds with a look of utter panic on her face.

“Pleas...” She started but was cut short when Gretch slammed the cleaver down severing her left arm in the middle of the forearm.

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth, Harper.” He said calmly while she collapsed in a screaming heap. Gretch dropped the cleaver and nonchalantly walked back to the fire under the hot water stove where he retrieved his other cleaver which was now dully glowing. He quickly returned to Harper, grabbed the bloody stump and pressed the cleaver against it.

“Gotta stop the bleeding, don’t want you passing... Too late.” He said as Harper’s scream ceased and she slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing Harper remembered was the smell of her own scalding flesh.

#
She came round a few seconds later to find herself still sitting at the table. She first looked at her left arm which was minus hand. Gretch was sitting opposite her using said hand as a back scratcher.

“Wakey, Wakey sleepy head!” Gretch said with a genuine smile.

“Wh.. Why?”

“I got questions, you got answers. Never really saw the point in fucking about with beatings or threats or theatrics. I’ve come in shown you I’m not fucking around. I have shown that right?”

“Right.” She said quickly her eyes wide from fear and skin pale from blood loss.

Gretch slapped her hand down on the table and pointed with his own.

“The man who you were speaking to, chased the slut over to my place, what was his name?”

“He never said.” She said panic and fear choking her answer.

“Ok that’s ok. I believe you. What did he want?”

“Wynn, he was asking about Wynn.”

“Wynn Carnival?” Gretch asked.

“Yes.” She said. Gretch caught the look of surprise in her eye. People always assumed he was just a dumb violent thug who happened to get lucky. It was a perception he cultivated far better to have people underestimate you than overestimate you.

“It’s my business to know stuff, just like how right now it’s your business not to fuck me off. Why was he asking this?”

“He said Wynn worked for the White Group and that he was there to find him. Said somebody had killed Wynn and he was here to find out who.”

“So mystery man works for The White Group?”

“Yes that’s what it seemed like.”

“You’re doing great Harper. Where they headed and why’d he pinch my whore? He sweet on her or something?”

“No, nothing like that. I overhead them he’s going to try to find a woman called Miss Globe.”

“Don’t know her.”

“She’s an Ochillian I think. A mercenary. Barbra was working for her, helped her track down Wynn.”

“Righto. Last question then it’ll all be over.” Gretch said as he stood up and pulled his Duster back on.

“What is it?” She moaned.

“You didn’t juggle or nothing? I mean I’d feel just terrible about this whole...” He managed to get out before he broke into peals of laughter while he waved goodbye to Harper with her own severed hand.

#

Back at the casino Gretch decided it was time to put get some questions answered. He collapsed into his chair and put his feet on his desk.

“Maxy, looks like The Cripple has either gone off the deep end and wants to start something or he’s got a dog off the lead. I want everybody doing everything they can to make New Mesa as unwelcoming to those White Group fuckers as possible. If there’s even a wiff that somebody’s one of their spies he goes on a spike out the front. I want people scared to even whisper the name.”

Gretch opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle a clear liquid Max knew was shine. Gretch took a long swing before resuming his orders.

“Second I want the fucker that came in here broken down until he’s a fucking paste and I want this Miss Globe bitch to explain why she’s bringing her shit to my door. Lastly that crippled fucker Mister Charles. I want him dead.”

Max just nodded this was a tall order. He turned and made his way out of the room.

“Oh and Max get rid of this.” Gretch said lobbing something at Max who was too slow to react which earned him a slap across the cheek from Harper Bell’s disembodied hand.

Max left the office to the sound of Gretch screeching with laughter.

#

Mister Charles approached the Long-hut with the smithy attached, apparently the Ochillian that ran it was something of an Artisan. He was immaculately turned out as usual despite his ride from the workshop but he was travelling light and would be carrying less on the return trip.

He knocked the door with his cane and was soon greeted by a not unattractive Ochillian who was covered in dirt from a hard day of labouring. He knew she was alone as Arachne was in training at the moment, he was sure of her routine.

“Hello how can I help you?” She said with a cheery smile.

“Hello. I’m looking for Armoured Serpent, the blacksmith.” Charles said extending his hand.

They shook while the Ochillian explained he had found her.

“I represent a rather large band of mercenaries and they’re in need of quality arms. I understand you’re the best in the area.”

“Well I don’t know about that...” Serpent began to bashfully explain.

“No, no need for modesty a good friend of mine, Arachne Webspinner, recommended you.”

“Ah a friend of Arachne’s you should have said.” Serpent said as he welcomed him inside.

She offered him a seat and some food but he declined citing the need to return to his mercenary unit.

“I’m simply here to offer you a retainer. This retainer in fact.” He said as he handed her the plain canvas Napsack he had been carrying.

Serpent opened it and sharply drew in a breath.

“Mister there’s more beads in here than I’d make in three months.”

“Consider that your retainer, someone will be by next month with more of the same.”

“What do you want?”

“At the moment nothing, but one day I will call on you and ask you to use your skill as a blacksmith to earn these beads. I expect you to be ready for that day.”

Serpent just nodded as she let the beads fall through her fingers.

“ I’m sorry but I must be going, it’s getting late.”

Serpent stood and extended her hand.

“Mister I don’t know what... I don ‘t even know your name?”

“Charles, Mister Charles. Speak to Arachne I’m sure she’ll tell you all about me.”

He doffed his hat and returned to his horse and the road back to The Workshop.

He knew it was a low move and he didn’t begrudge Arachne happiness, if anything he hoped this would make it easier for her to tell the truth. Charles knew it was near impossible to keep secrets from one you genuinely cared for. He hoped Armoured Serpent would be seduced by the beads and know to keep her mouth shut.

He also knew Arachne would pick up the subtle message of his visit, there are no secrets in the White Group.

#

Augustus Autumn rolled his shoulders and perused a report sitting in front of him telling him increasing numbers of Tribals had been mounting near the camp. It was resulting in small skirmishes between them and his men. While he’d yet to lose one of his specials he was worried about needlessly wasting supplies.

He clucked his tongue and made a decision.

#
Twenty minutes later he had his Captains assembled.

“Cole, the Gating gun is now operational and installed on our Flagship?”

“Yes Sir.” Captain Cole said with a slight note of giddiness in his voice.

“Outstanding. Captains Baker, Franklin and Lewis your groups are rested and ready to move?”

“Yes Sir we can be on the move in two hours.” Franklin responded.

“What about if we disassemble the camp?”

“Give us three.” Baker said.

“Make it happen. We’re marching on New Mesa. It’s time to let these goddamn savages know The Confederates are here and we’re going to fix this rotten excuse for a region.”

“Yes Sir.” The four Captains said in unison as Autumn dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

#

James Costner slowly pulled back the curtain and peeked out the window of the hotel room he was staying in. A blizzard was blowing outside but he was warm from the fire Jenner had kept burning in their small room at the Inn.

“Are they still out there?” Jenner asked from the bed.

“Yes. Three at least, They don’t know we’re here.”

“So we wait it out.”

“Yes.” Costner said as he let the curtain fall back into place. He glanced at Jenner who was sitting in a chair by the fire. She still looked strange to him even though she’d dyed her hair black over three weeks ago.

“I’ve been thinking James. I know someone that might be able to help us.”

“Help us escape?”

“No help me find and the kill the bastard that killed my father. Then whoever ordered him to do that and from there anyone who benefitted from it.”

Costner was only mildly shocked to hear the coldness in her voice. She’d lost her father, brother and two sisters all in a war between business men she didn’t understand. She’d mourned, briefly, then the hardness began to creep into her voice. Costner knew then that her childhood was over, her innocence lost. She ran to The Flats to find out who she was but in the end The Peaks told her. Her path would be one of death, blood, revenge and tears.

Costner knew this because he’d walk the path with as long he could.

“Who’d you have in mind?” Costner asked as he walked over to his own seat.

“Lyn the mercenary who brought me to you.”

Costner exhaled in a low whistle as he sat down.

“I don’t think mercenary covers exactly who rescued you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... Assassin is probably closer to the truth and they don’t come cheap.”

“Please, James I’m a Reese. I can give as many beads as she wants. Father wasn’t stupid he set aside enough in case of a blizzard like this. Enough to pay Lyn the Assassin to wrest control of my family’s fortune to me, after that beads won’t be a problem.”

“He did what?” Mister Charles asked his mouth agape.

“Bust right in there and give Gretch a hell of a beating. Bastard had a broken nose” Elaine McGovern said with a snort as she threw a cup of Tanu Tea down her neck.

“Then what?”

“Gretch threw everyone outta Gregger’s except Harper Bell. Last I saw her she was minus an arm and talking about getting out of New Mesa.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“I just got word something big is going to hit there soon.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Warning you now”

She snorted and took another slug of the tea. It was a viscous dark blue liquid that was popular in New Mesa and with the Confederate Army. Charles thought they would be quite happy there.

“Well C here’s your warning Gretch is on the war path for the White Group. Word is he’s killing people based on even a hint they’re connected to you, which means I’m leaving anyway, good thing to, I’m too old for this dancing nonsense. Maybe I could find a rich man to take me under his wing.”

Charles smiled and stood from the small table they were sharing at the small Pub.

“Until next time Elaine.”

#
Job: The Medua Mission.

Charles returned to the Workshop a few hours later where he found Arachne’s mission was complete but still no word from Alexander or Ada. Alexander would get a tongue lashing for going after Gretch and Mister Charles wondered if he should have Gretch killed. With the Confederate Army on the move to New Mesa though it was possible that job would be taken care of for him.

He was sitting reviewing Arachne’s report when a runner burst in through the door. It was a young boy, one of his “Alleyway Allies”. While he would avoid using a child in a combat role he had found them to second to none at the great game. They could slip in and out of places relatively unnoticed even in plain view. Adults like Elaine had their place, for there were things that people would only share on a bedroom pillow, but his eyes on The Flats often belonged to children.
The child standing in front of him was called Puck.

“Puck how did you get in here!?”

“Mister! Mister! They got the... they got...”

“Take a breath, sit down.”

The filthy child sat on the chair opposite Charles’ desk and struggled for breath. Mister Charles rose and called for a glass of water.

“What is it? How did you find this place?”

Mister Charles never met contacts in the workshop, he didn’t want people knowing the exact location of his bed.
“Followed you a few months back.” Puck explained as he took a gulp of water.

“How many know where this place is?”

“Just me.”

“Good.” Charles said as his heart rate dropped. Puck didn’t know it but the Workshop was now his home, and rightfully so the child had stalked Mister Charles all the way back to his lair. If that didn’t warrant inclusion into the White Group nothing did.

“Now what did you want to tell me?”

“The big man, your big man. They got him.”

“Alexander? Who got him?”

“The Ochillian woman. She’s scary. Hit him with an arrow.”

“Is he dead?”


“Don’t think so they took him away with them.”

“Took him where?”

Puck scrunched his face up in a thoughtful pose.

“Madua, The Ghost town.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Bout a day and a half.”

#

Mister Charles grabbed a pen and quickly scribbled a note to Arachne.

Arachne,

Alexander has been taken, the boy handing you this message is called Puck he will guide you to the town of Medua. It’s a mining town that has been abandoned these twenty years. They say a tribal band called “The Ridgebacks” operate in the area and live in Medua. They are easily the most powerful gang in the east although not the largest. This tells you something about their methods.

The Mercenary group that has taken Alexander is not believed to be a part of this gang however they are operating in Medua so expect there to be some sort of business dealing there.

I’m going to send Ada after you but it is imperative you not waste time. I want you to go to Medua and have a skulk around. See if you can locate Alexander or glean any intelligence. Do not assault until Ada arrives or two days pass from you read this sentence. If possible retrieve Alexander. If not he is to be killed. We can’t risk leaks.

C.

#

Puck handed the letter to the Ochillian woman and scratched his ear.

“So we going or what lady?”

#

A few hours after Puck had left his office Ada walked in looking tired and a little beaten. He knew she had failed her mission. The Guardian’s stance told Charles that her ribs were still in pain and he wondered if he was doing the right thing sending her out again.

If he didn’t though it would leave Alexander and Arachne on their own.

She began by explaining that her mission was not a success but Charles simply held his hand up.

“Later. Right now we have a much larger problem.”

He produced a map and pointed to the town Medua.

“Alexander was supposed to find the killer of Wynn Carnival, a bartender and one of our contacts. Something went wrong. Alexander apparently had a run in with Gretch before getting snatched by a mercenary band led by an Ochillian female.”

He looked up from the map at Ada and wondered if she would be able to pull this off. He knew Guardians were tough but this could be suicidal. Whoever had taken Alexander down was clearly smart and his team would need their wits about them. He continued with his briefing.

“Arachne is already on the way with a boy called Puck who knows the way. She’s going to observe and start working on a plan. You need to follow them and save Alexander. They only have a head start of a couple of hours but you’re going to need to lug the equipment. From the look of you I’d recommend a rifle and engaging from a distance, let Arachne get up close. Kincaid might be able to help you, he’s developed an item called a silencer that may help conceal your position.”

He gave a smile but knew it was weak. He was asking them to go against two enemy forces one of which had already taken down one of their comrades. His operatives were tired beaten and he had precious little intelligence to offer them. It could be a massacre or their finest hour.

“Of course that could all change when you get on the ground. Medua is also home to a tribal gang called the Ridgebacks. It’s made up of Ochil, Tanu and Humans so be careful. I don’t think they are working with the Mercs but they will defend their territory. “

Charles let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry it worked out like this but this is what we do. Get the job done Ada.”

He waited for any question before dismissing the fragile looking Guardian.

#

Miss Globe watched Alexander rave under the effects of her drug.

The Blackwort was a terrible plant, it’s roots when ground up and consumed enabled the user to travel through their own memories to most painful times in their lives. She’d seen killers turn into gibbering buffoons in a matter of minutes. Alexander though was holding on and she respected him for it.

Wouldn’t change anything though.

So far he’d admitted to being in the White Group and all but admitted he knew where the Workshop was. The location he wasn’t about to give up.

That’s why she would move on to the next stage of her Blackwort interrogation. Blackwort was sometimes called scab. This was because of its highly addictive qualities. Like a child that picks a scab despite reopening a wound, addicts to Blackwort would continue to use despite its effects. By now Alexander would have enough in his system to be dependent.

She ordered he would receive no more and see if he felt like talking after a few days of withdrawal.

Alexander was chained in a basement below a shattered Old World Town. The place had been picked clean by scavengers years ago and was now home to a Gang called the Ridgebacks. Their leader, Blasta was a large man who Miss Globe suspected carried Tanu blood as well as a wicked addiction to sand. An addiction she was able to exploit. That’s how they had been given access to the Ghost Town.

The Ridgebacks provided security around the town while she and her band of mercenaries remained in the destroyed old world basement which was actually part of a larger network of tunnels that ran all over Medua.

Up top the Town was over looked by the Ridge from which the Ridgebacks took their name, this was a tactical disadvantage as a sniper could play merry Hell but if they wanted to get Miss Globe any attackers would have fight their way though the Ridgebacks and Her Mercenaries.

She felt she had enough time to break Alexander before the White Group could save him.

Ten hours Later.

“Marvin this heat is getting unbearable. I swear it’s getting warmer.”

Marvin looked up at the Sun and then back at his travelling partner, Christine Carol. They were sitting on a wagon being dragged along by sullen looking nag. Christine was a trader operating between Farpoint and New Mesa, she’d employed Marvin as a guard a few years ago when the route started to get a little dangerous and she felt she could use the backup. She now viewed the man as a kind of surrogate son despite his attempts to be taken seriously as a mean guard.

“We can stop for water in few miles, there should be an oasis coming up.”

They sat in the comfortable silence of friendship and watched as the countryside crawled by.

“What’s that?” Marvin said with a tinge of surprise to his voice as he pointed to a form off to the left.

Carol looked but could only see a small dark lump.

“It’s moving.” Marvin said as he dug around in his pack of the brass telescope he always carried.

Carol slowed the horse while Marvin investigated.

“Oh my, it’s a woman!”

Carol slowed the horse while Marvin jumped out and slowly pulled his rifle from its scabbard. She shook her head at his exuberance, the man was a romantic despite all his posturing as a tough mercenary. He was always looking for a damsel to rescue.

As he approached he could see she was an Ochillian although it was difficult through the dirt and dried blood. It was clear she’d been badly beaten.

“Are you alright?” Marvin asked as he approached and attempted to look heroic.

“Of course I’m no... I mean no I need help, bandits raided my caravan on the way to Farpoint, beat me and stole my cargo. Bastards.”

Marvin lowered his rifle and helped the woman to her feet. He quickly glanced along the horizon as he had heard of these honey pot ambushes before.

“Come on we’ll patch you up.” Marvin said as he supported the woman toward Carol and the caravan.

One Week Later

Jenner Reese looked out of the porthole of the Airship she had spent the last three weeks onboard, behind her Costner adjusted finalised his preparations and rechecked the bags he had packed. He didn’t bother with Jenner’s as he didn’t think it right to check the young woman’s personal items but he’d made it clear she’d have to carry whatever she packed.

“Ready Jenner?” He asked.

She nodded and lifted the small pack she’d prepared.

They were both dressed for further travel and stood out from the rest of the passengers because of it. It wouldn’t matter though once they were on the ground, in The Flats. Up in the Airship the assassin’s blade could come from any angle at least out on The Flats they could see it coming.

They disembarked and found themselves standing on a rickety pontoon in the middle of Farpoint. They walked along and passed an urchin clutching a raggedy stack of papers.

“New Mesa Falls to the Fed Army! Read all about!”

Jenner stopped and was about to speak to the child but Costner pushed her along. She bumbled along for a few moments until they finally got out of the throng of the crowd.

“The Confederates are here? I hope the White Group is still functioning they’re the only ones that can help us.”

One Week Later.

The truth was the White Group was in bad shape. The kidnap of Alexander and the work load had taken its toll on the team. Mister Charles knew he was pushing the team too hard but that was a good thing it meant they had too much work coming in. It was for this reason that Charles decided it was time to recruit again.

Of course contracts were still coming in through Mister Charles’ network but with the Confederate invasion it was better to lay low. He hadn’t been out of the Workshop in weeks and was starting to feel cabin fever setting in. The other members of the White Group where recuperating from their numerous injuries but there was no rest for Mister Charles, he was marshalling all his resources to learn as much as he could about the Confederate Army, try to find Gretch and lastly work out what was happening with Miss Globe who apparently had taken an interest in the White Group.

Charles was in his office going over some reports when Puck wandered in. Recently Puck had been given a wider role in the network acting as an intermediary between Mr Charles and the informants he had out on The Flats.

“Morning Puck I thought you were still out collecting reports?”

“I was but I ‘eard summat that I thought you should know.”

“Which was?” Charles asked.

“Some girl and this man she didn’t want people know she was with were walking ‘round Farpoint trying to find out about Miss Ada and The White Group.”

“Really? Do you have names?”

“Yep, She’s calling herself Carla or something and dyed her hair but it’s Jenner Reese.”

“How do you know that?”

“I was the one who told you about the bloke looking to set up a contract. I knew her from Kiladeys.”

“You went to Kiladey’s? At your age?”

“Yeah not anymore though getting too old. Gotta start saving my cash.”

“You’re ten... nevermind do with your money what you will. Send word to Farpoint. I’ll meet with Reese from what I hear she’s suffered a family tragedy.”

Puck nodded and left the office whistling a jaunty tune.

One Week Later.

Miss Globe had been travelling with Carol and Marvin for almost two weeks. Marvin was blinded by a woman being in his proximity to the extent he couldn’t look her in the eye. Miss Globe thought this was pathetic. Carol was a different story, the old woman had quizzed her about her story and was sure to keep an eye on Globe at all times. Miss Globe couldn’t be sure if it was old fashioned racism or if Carol was just a good judge of character but Globe only needed to get to the length of Farpoint where she could restock, rebuild and then go after the White Group again. She wasn’t sure how it had happened but somehow they’d slipped through her fingers again, once more shaming her. She thought how many people had died how much pain had been caused for the Spruce Framed Havelock Rifle. Of course now it was so much more than business she would finish what she’d started with Ada and she knew Alexander would be carrying the psychological scars from what she’d put him through for the rest of his life. That man would be irreparably changed and for that they would meet again.

They had stopped for the evening and Marvin was getting the fire started. Globe felt uneasy not about her situation but something in the air was disturbing her.

“Marvin you checked the perimeter?”

“Uh why yes... I checked it right and proper isn’t nothing out there gonna get you ma’am.”

Globe nodded but still she felt uneasy she looked out from the small camp they’d set and looked out across the Flats. As happenstance would have it Marvin’s kindling caught light as Miss Globe was looking across the Flats. She wasn’t even sure she’d seen it but for a brief second she caught something glinting that seemed to have ducked behind a sand dune.

She stretched and cracked her back before walking to the wagon and grabbing a small spade or as Carol called it the portable toilet.

“Excuse me.” Miss Globe said as she walked away from the Camp.

Once she felt she was far enough away to be undetected she broke into a jog and looped back around the camp. Sure enough behind the dune she found two Feral Tribals. Both heavily sunburnt and muttering amongst themselves.

Quietly she snuck along as she raised the spade high above her head. At the last moment she turned it in her hand to ensure she striking with edge of the spade and not the flat of it. All Ochil had to think about the best ways to maximise damage given their diminutive size.

She brought the spade down with all the force she could muster and sickening crack echoed across the Flats. Her victim instantly began to spasm so Globe let go of the spade and turned her attention to the other Tribal who was wide eyed with disbelief. Globe leapt on to his back and curled her lithe arms around his neck before squeezing the air out of him with the crook of her elbow.

The man collapsed and Globe quickly patted down both for whatever she could find. One was carrying a rusty looking blade while the other had a particularly shoddy looking New World revolver. She grabbed both and was about to kill the unconscious tribal when she heard a scream coming from the camp.

She peaked over the dune and saw a man wearing a battered looking duster standing over Carol’s motionless body. Marvin was pointing his rifle at the man who was brandishing a tiny knife like it was a dart.

After a swift movement too quick for Globe to see from distance the stranger was suddenly standing behind Marvin while Marvin clutched a bloody wound running the length of his right arm.

“Hell he’s fast.” Globe whispered.

The man didn’t kill Marvin but instead produced a long knife.

“Alright little one! Bet you think you’re real lucky but that luck’s done run out!” He shouted across the Flats.

“Now my two amigos ain’t shown up yet which makes me think they’re face down in some ditch which...” The stranger looked at Marvin. “What’s yer name pecker breath?”

“Fuck you.” Marvin muttered.

“Wrong answer.” I a fluid motion the stranger stabbed Marvin through his cheek causing the man to roar in pain.

“Which means Peckerbreath here is gonna pay!” The stranger called out.

Globe quickly went to the unconscious tribal and tied him up using torn clothing from the dead one she then slapped him awake. He tried to scream but Globe had gagged his mouth. When he started to struggle she punched him repeatedly until he stopped. She had to do this couple of times but she knew even a tribal would get the idea when beaten enough. Besides she liked it because she imagined it was Alexander’s face.

When the Tribal was feeling more cooperative she pulled him to his feet and marched towards the Camp.

“I have a hostage!” She called out to the stranger in the duster. As she approached she could the man’s face was a patchwork of scar’s sunburn and dirt. His hair grew at crazy angles at it looked like his skin was on the wrong skull. In the flickering of the campfire in front of them it looked like his skin was constantly shifting.

“Lady I don’t give a good fuck about no hostages.” The stranger called out as punched Marvin hard in the ribs.

Miss Globe’s hostage muttered a protest but she silenced him by jerk his hair back.

“All I’m saying is you let my boy go and I let yours go.”

The stranger started laughing.

“Lady do you know who I am? Seriously I don’t care about that fuckstick.”

The hostage again whined and again she pulled his hair to silence him.

“To be on the level I don’t care him either.”

“That so lady? You can’t steal my fucking bit.”

The stranger lifted a gleaming blade and threw it directly into the throat of Miss Globe’s hostage. She felt the Tribal’s blood roll out of his neck and on to her hand so she let the corpse drop.

“See what I mean you have to be willing to commit to the bit.”

Miss globe raised the Tribal’s pistol and sent a bullet directly into Marvin’s face.

The stranger let Marvin’s body drop.

“Now that is surprising.”

“I know you. You’re Gretch.”

Gretch took a theatrical bow.

“Indeed I am and you sure as shit ain’t no caravan guard.”

“No but from what I hear you’re on the way out now the Feds have taken Mesa.”

“Ha, it’s only loaned to them.”

“ I think we can work together and get ourselves back on our feet. Looks like you could use some quality help and I need a posse.”

“Why what’s a sweet little Ochillian like you need with a posse?”

“I got a bone to pick with the White Group.”

Gretch’s face slowly curled into something approximating a smile.

One Week Later.

New Mesa was completely under Confederate control while there were some incidents of the local populace rising up in an attempt to defy Confederate control these were limited to a number of isolated individuals. Cornel Augustus Autumn put this down to a simple lack of leadership it was for that reason he ensured a list was drawn up of any potential rabble rousers and they were taken care of.

Unfortunately one name had not been checked off his list.

Gretch.

He knew it would be far too fortunate to have Gretch die in the assault but still he had hoped. Now the madman was out there on the Flats plotting revenge, Autumn wanted to send out squads to look for him but his force was stretched enough holding the town.

Nevertheless word from the Peaks was his ambitious gambit had paid off. He was being hailed as a military genius for taking New Mesa with such a small force. He had to admit himself it had been a brilliant idea to use Gretch to take the town only to attack when the tribal had done the dirty work. Now Autumn was being widely tipped to be the next leader of the Confederacy all he had to do was maintain the tempo of his campaign which thankfully was being given a shot in the arm by reinforcements coming from the north. He was to receive two regular units as well as a small boys unit and a Specials unit. More than enough to hold the town which meant he could focus on expanding his borders.

Of course he still had multiple problems to overcome. Hope wouldn’t stand for an invasion of their borders and if the stories were to be believed the Guardians of Hope had the potential to cause a lot of damage before they were conquered. Farpoint wouldn’t be as tough to crack but everyday he didn’t attack gave them time to develop a resistance. Autumn was betting on the independent spirit of the Flats being their downfall. It was often said getting Flatlanders to work together is like trying to herd flies.


One Week Later.

Jenner Reese had begged, and Mister Charles had felt uncomfortable. She needed help taking on Mozambique, the man who had her family murdered, but she didn’t have the money to pay. Of course she did have something Mister Charles wanted.
“A simple trade you and your Mister Costner work for us and we’ll gladly help. I need help doing organisational work in the office and when I go out, with the way things are in New Mesa, I need some kind of protection. It seems Mister Costner has a penchant for keeping people alive so I’m sure he can do for me what he did for you.”

Of course they agreed. Jenner though hadn’t counted on enjoying the work though, she’d been at it for a few weeks and for the first time in her life felt truly useful. Sure she was collating information for a group of Assassins but she’d lived on the Flats she knew it was a rough place and in a way the White Group helped keep some semblance of order.

She was standing in the large Library, a room that contained all the information the White Group had gathered over their existence. She found it fascinating reading, it seemed like all she had done was pour over records from past jobs and surveillance reports.

Mister Charles had given her an important job, she was to prepare the briefs for the next round of jobs. She’d dropped them into Mister Charles and he was currently perusing them. It reminded her of her when her tutors would check her multiplication answers.

Mister Charles entered the study and set the stack of papers in front of her.

“Excellent work Miss Reese. The agents are ready for action, as is our new recruit, the spirited Miss Gowen. Post the Jobs.”

Jenner nodded and lifted the stack of papers before leaving to post them.

The Inside Job.

Location- The Peaks, Southern Territory. Igur Penal Mine.

Target- Hanzo Guinness

Information- This one will require a bit of travel. Igur is a Confederate operated Penal Mine in the south of the Peaks. It is quite different from the Flats in terms of Climate and Geography with its tall mountains and cold climate. The mine produces various metals and ores used by the Confederate Army including metal ores and coal.

Igur is famous for being notoriously tough with an astronomical inmate death rate. This is because Igur contains the absolute worst the Confederacy has offer. It does not divide for gender race or creed and the only thing that really matters inside its walls is how strong or smart you are. The guards are little help due to their corrupt nature which includes organised betting on fight between inmates. In closing Igur is not a nice place.

You are to find a way into Igur and find the man Hanzo Guinness. Guinness was part of a gang that pulled a diamond heist . Guinness found himself holding the bag and was able to stash it somewhere on the Flats unfortunately he was then captured by the Confederates. It is your job to break Hanzo out so he can lead the members of his gang to the stones. No doubt the Confederates are also aware that Hanzo knows where the stones are and will be asking him where they are. I’m sure they aren’t asking nicely.

Planning to Fail.

Location- New Mesa

Target- Confederate Plans for future troop movements

Information- New Mesa is now completely under Confederate control. The force is being led by Colonel Augustus Autumn who by all accounts is a masterful tactician and fighting man. Of course this says nothing about his morals.
Having seen what is happening in New Mesa several parties have become very interested in knowing where the army plans to move in the future as this information would be of great financial importance. Therefore these plans are to be located and recovered by an operative. Of course it is vital that this operation is undertaken in complete stealth as if the Confederates become aware that they have been infiltrated it is likely their plans will change. It is also for this reason that the operative should copy rather than steal the plans. So be sure to bring a pencil and paper.

While it may be possible to pass off one or two killings and blame it on the local people know that if the body count racks up the Confederates will become aware of your presence and the mission will be failed. Additionally the local people will pay dearly if you do decide to pin a murder of a Confederate on them.

House Call.

Location- Farpoint

Target- The Widow Mary Kane

Information- Mary Kane has been a pillar of the Farpoint community for over thirty years. She is widely respected for helping build the town and is a permanent fixture of its aristocracy. She has been known to undertake charitable works particularly among street youth in New Mesa, for example her Kane carts provide food and blankets when the temperature drops. She is viewed as either a force for good on the Flats or as a foolish old woman with more money than sense depending on how cynical the person is you talk you. One thing is clear though she’s a force for good on the Flats.

You are to kill her.

The widow Kane has been in poor health recently and our client would prefer she does not get better. The only stipulation is the death cannot appear to be a murder.

Kane lives on the airship her husband bought before his death with the money he made from his airship freight company or rather the airship freight company he sold to the Walkers. In recent months she has become somewhat reclusive with the only visitor she admits being her Doctor. If you are able to intercept the Doctor you may be able to present yourself as a replacement. If not you may rather take the direct approach and sneak in to kill her in her sleep.

Kane has become quite paranoid in her old age and maintains a rather large staff of ten guards each one of whom is intensely loyal to her. Additionally she has a cook and a maid.

Whatever method you choose the murder must look like an accident or natural causes there can be no suggestion of foul play.

Target: Hanzo Guinness
Location: The Peaks, Southern Territory. Igur Penal Mine.

Induction:

In truth, Ruby wasn't sure what she expected joining the White Group. They were mere Flats mythology as far as she'd been concerned up until now, and for all intents and purposes, Ruby wasn't exactly the quiet methodical type in most scenarios. But, Mr. Charles had made contact with her and apparently Ruby had something to bring to this table. It had taken her two weeks to mull over the decision. But it was when New Mesa fell to the Confederates that sealed Ruby's fate. Fuck the Confederates. Fuck their rules. Fuck everything they did, will do and if Ruby has anything to say about it, fuck them until they can't do anything anymore.

It took her two days to make her way to the Workshop, the mysterious headquarters and her new home as it were. Entering with an uncharacteristically nervous apprehension, Ruby for the first time realised how claustrophobic she was. Perhaps it was her pirates blood and love of the wide open spaces of the Flats. The bunker itself wasn't all that unwelcoming and when Mr.Charles had initially inducted her, explained what was expected and laid out the do's, don'ts and everything in between, Ruby began to feel a sense of belonging.

It was a few days after her arrival that Ruby took the opportunity to jump at a job. Cabin fever had begun to set in and the quiet nature of the bunker was starting to have adverse effects. Ruby hadn't met her other 'colleagues' yet, and that probably contributed to her sense of loneliness. When Miss Reese posted the first of the jobs, Ruby was quick to sort through them. Two required more patience and care than Ruby had to offer but the first one, that sounded like something Ruby could sink her teeth into.


Ingur Penal Mines:

Ruby awoke abruptly, three days later. Her hands were cuffed tightly and her wrists were raw and tinged slightly with pain. Her vision was blurry initially but it didn't take long for her to realise what was going on when she came to full consciousness. The air was almost cuuting as it brushed past her face. Looking to the ground below she could see snow. It seemed the Fed's had taken the bait and Ruby was just moments away from being dropped into the mines. She hadn't accounted for the three day sleep though, or the fact they'd suspend her hanging over the side of an airship for god knows how long. She breathed in deep, thankfully they hadn't beaten her -yet. And apart from a dull headache and her wrists, she was otherwise fine.

Someone yelled from the deck above and Ruby felt the ship descend through some mist and she saw a platform suspended about a mile up from the ground on the side of a mountain. The airship docked and Ruby plunged to the ground about three feet as her captors released her hold. Hitting the ground hard Ruby coughed as she was roughly picked up by mine guards.

"The bitch is to go down to the deep. Colonel Autumn wants her.. repenting deeply".

The escorting guard from the airship laughed. He looked to Ruby, holding her equipment up from arms reach,

"Colonel says you can get these back when you've earned them."

Ruby pulled out from her holder grip and kicked the taunter fair in the groin causing him to keel over with his eyes popping out of his skull,

"Look after them for me."

she chided as her escort punched her in the back and dragged her off the platform and into the Prison-mine.

It had been nearly three days since Ruby's arrival to the mines and she almost regretted this entire assignment. In the short time she'd been here she'd been forced to wander the deep - the roughest most dangerous part of this prison mine. The deep was the most horrific place of this entire operation. This place was meant as a productive prison. Littered with people of all ages, sizes, ethnicity and more. The prison was established on and into the side of a mountain named the Peak. The prisoners were essentially allowed to free roam, but placed into specific sectors. In the deep, the prisoners were forced to dig and build the prison further while collecting resources from these establishing mines for the Confederacy.

Ruby was in a constant battle to keep herself from being tortured or forced into some sort of bet-brawl by the guards within the few short days she'd already spent in the deep. Forced to work in near darkness and sleep wherever there wasn't someone else, the deep was a literal mind-fuck and a special destination it turned out, for those who personally pissed Autumn off. It turned out hijacking one of his Fed crews that wandering the Flats and killing them wasn't looked highly upon.

But Ruby was persistent and determined that her first job was going to succeed. So far she'd sussed out how the deep was monitored, and buddied up to a few inmates already; she'd also learned that the airship that had brought her here was still docked and was due to leave in a days time, and by chance learned that Hanzo Guinness was currently being interrogated at the Flank, or more commonly known as the Guard's Level - also the level above her's. Apparently the Confederates wanted the diamonds he'd stolen and hidden too, just as expected. But apparently getting the information wasn't as easy as expected and taking him into their nest was apparently where they kept their 'persuasion devices'.

Ruby had to move fast and she wasted no time putting a plan together. Fortunately for her the sector of this prison-mine had to use dynamite to clear more tunnels for further development. Unfortunately for Ruby, she was expressly prohibited to use them. But, like always, Ruby silently said fuck it to herself and when the place quietened down for the night, she set about putting a full-throttle plan into motion. Ruby was going to use the organised-chaos the guards had going against the entire prison. She found herself a dark corner to hide in while the guards did their check.

As two of the guards approached Ruby, she kept herself flush against the wall. The two, unbeknownst, ignored her and Ruby moved fast, kicking the one closest to her in the kidneys, then the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground in submission. The dim light gave her enough cover and she was able to punch the other guard in the stomach causing him to double over as she placed her hands on either side of his neck and pulled her knee upwards to collide with his face. The guard fell slumped to the floor as Ruby patted him down taking a small automatic handgun from his body and a stun baton too. Turning the baton on, she hit the other guard who was fumbling back to his feet causing him to slump next to his comrade unconscious too.

Ruby heaved in triumph and was caught off guard when suddenly a bright light shone into her eyes and another guard swore out loud and yelled into some sort of communication device,

"Back up in main tunnel of the deep!".

Ruby suddenly had to squint as the almost darkness was suddenly blinded by blaring lights. So the bastards kept everyone in the dark on purpose. Ruby adjusted and looked up in time to see her snitch aiming a handgun right at her and a number of inmates around them watching. He looked nervous, but Ruby could tell he'd shoot if given the opportunity, so she did the only thing she ever did; Ruby got loud.

"RIOT!" was all she needed to say.

A nearby inmate watching the scene unfold lost his shit at Ruby's words and king hit the guard holding her up. Her words, and the other inmate's actions sent a shockwave of unstoppable rioting that like a venom, poisoned the entire place within minutes. Ruby had her diversion. Grabbing a few remote controlled dynamite, Ruby began her ascent through the maze of mines, following small maps situated on the corners of intersections until she found herself back in the established part of the prison and soon slipping up into the Flank.

It was utter chaos everywhere else in this place but the Flank. True to her nature but unbeknownst to her, Ruby's one syllable word apparently had more power and drive than she'd thought. The Flank, normally a hotbed of Confederate Prison Guards was silent and abandoned. The Guards were all out in the rest of the mines bashing, killing inmates, trying to keep whatever order they had before and in turn they were being bashed and killed. By pure chance she found herself outside what was marked 'Interrogation Room' and from the inside she could hear shouting and arguing.

"What the fuck do we do?"

"I don't know, why the fuck are they this bad?"

"That bitch Ruby Doom -"

"Don't fucking call her that -"

Ruby pushed the door open slowly, letting it fall open as suddenly the inside went quiet. She heard the movement of guns as they were aimed towards the door. Ruby took a deep breath as she looked behind her and in front. She could hear the chaos a ways off, but no one seemed too concerned with the Flank. Ruby moved fast, turning the corner into the room crouching, her right leg stretched out as she crouched to provide a crutch and left leg stabilizing as she fired once into the face of one guard and then once again into the other.

Ruby pulled her right leg back in and stood up, pocketing the gun into the pocket of her prison pants, looking over the man sitting in the middle of a room, cocking his head to the side with a hood over his face and his hands tied behind him.

"What do you want?" he asked with a static, gruff voice.

Ruby smirked, pulling the hood of his face, "I want you."

The two made their way up each level of this sadistic prison as fast as they could. Unfortunately for Ruby, Hanzo was frail from weeks of apparent interrogation. He was a man of approximately 50 years of age, and while in reasonable mental and somewhat physical health, he had endured pretty exhausting trauma. But Ruby pushed him hard and with a bit of difficulty, the loss of all her ammunition, and stun baton, Ruby and Hanzo made their way to the same platform she'd been dropped off at earlier, appearing out in a giant hanger that overlooked the platform just in time to watch the airship that brought her here take off.

"Fuck. My guns and clothes!" Ruby grunted. "Bloody Cowards!"

She ran to the edge of the platform, looking down, too far; besides, it would take weeks to get back to the Flats and then some to get back to the workshop. Ruby turned back to Hanzo, shrugging her shoulders, that's when she noticed the small airship in the hangar that led off the platform.

"That's our ticket out of here." Hanzo chimed in, cottoning on to Ruby's plan.

Starting up the ship, Ruby cheered as it roared into life and breathed a sigh of relief as she and Hanzo took to the sky. They sailed for two hours before they managed to catch up to the ship that had left the Mining Prison to sort itself out - if it ever would. Ruby took the opportunity of being disguised as a Fed ship and pulled up on the side of the other airship dressed in a spare uniform left on board she'd found. Hanzo looked nervous but Ruby just smirked again,

"They've got a few of my things..."

It was ten minutes later Ruby made the leap back to the small airship, looking to Hanzo calmly as she told him he might want to distance themselves quickly. As they pulled away from the airship Ruby turned to wave as what was left of the crew on that airship waved erratically at her.

"3,2,1..."

The airship suddenly exploded, breaking in two, falling about a mile or two to the ground below. Ruby yee-hawed and blew a kiss to the smoking rubble that hit the ground below with another explosion.

"Girl's gotta have her stuff" she joked holding her clothes and weapons up.

Ruby settled behind the controls of this ship and rode the journey out all the way back to a few miles from the workshop. Ruby pushed down a rope ladder when they were about twenty feet from the ground and made Hanzo climb to the ground, quickly switching the airship to an ascent and locking the controls, Ruby made her way down the rope ladder having to fall about three feet to make a safe landing. Hitting the ground jarred her ribs again and Ruby winced in pain as Hanzo helped her back to her feet.

"It's all good.. It's all good." she boasted as she straightened up.

The two walked the rest of the distance, a total of thirteen miles to the Workshop. Ruby had succeeded this time. Hanzo was safe. But it was at the cost of her physical body, and one big target by the confederation she'd placed on herself. Still though, Ruby had fun for what it was worth.

Epilogues.

Hanzo Guinness was safely in the hands of his criminal gang who had been more than happy to pay Mister Charles and the White Group what they owed. Hanzo on the other hand was too happy with his reversal of fortunes to make much sense.
Mister Charles was happy as well, Ruby had performed admirably and would make an excellent addition to the team. He was slightly concerned about the interest her job would generate in the Confederate army. His concern only grew when he received the report of Alexander’s mission.

Around the same time Mister Charles was learning about Alexander’s Antics Colonel Autumn was doing the same. He was sitting in the office that had once been Fat Nic Escobar’s then Gretch’s and now his. Fat Nic’s Casino had been rebuilt and was now the Confederate nerve centre the gaming tables that had once stood in the place had been replaced by Models and maps of the surrounding areas and towns. Each one, with the exception of Hope, was well detailed thanks to the reports of the Confederate’s sources.

Colonel Autumn was lost in a world of thought and deeply reading a report by a survivor of a caravan ambush. Apparently the Confederate patrol had blundered into an ambush masquerading as a trade caravan. The Attack had apparently been led by a native calling himself the Butcher of the Wastes.

Autumn sighed and dropped the report before looking at the assembled captains before him. They were fighting men, all very good at following plans but poor at coming up with them. They needed Autumn to tell them what to do.

“At this point I see no reason to be worried about this Butcher. I have arrived at this conclusion through method of... Captain Hayes?”

“Deduction Sir?” Captain Hayes offered.

“Correct Captain. What I have deduced is this was not the work of a single man. The survivor, clearly traumatised, is having trouble remembering what he saw. I have no doubt it was a single man who threatened him but I imagine the massacre involved a well organised group. One man taking on an entire patrol? Unlikely.”

Autumn smiled, a gesture designed to inspire confidence.

“Secondly, by leaving a man alive we know this group to be vain. They wanted us to know what they had done, so that we might fear them. The Confederate Army does not fear, in particular we do not fear highwaymen with delusions of grandeur.”

The Captains nodded, happy that Autumn was there to take charge and ease their worried minds. The last thing any of them wanted was terrorist campaign.

“Lastly are any of you aware of who this Butcher of The Wastes is? Apparently our group of miscreants are unaware of the history that name carries around The Flats. Depending on who you speak to he’s either a hero of the weak or a mercenary that murdered fifty three Women and Children to celebrate a victory. Innocent people, not Slaves or Ochil, free Humans murdered by this butcher. Say’s a lot about them that they would choose such a name.”

The Captains stood in silence for a moment before Captain Lewis spoke up, the dead Confederates had been a part of his garrison.

“What will our response be?”

“Of course Captain we can’t let this stand and a strong message must be sent to any who are involved or are thinking about getting involved in this sort of thing. Our response must be swift and decisive.”

Autumn bridged his fingers and returned to his thoughts before standing and gesturing to a map.

“There is a small town, a trading stop really, called Ganhj about five miles south of New Mesa. Your squad is to travel there and select fifty three people. Execute half on the spot, ensure this is witnessed and the reason for the action is made clear. It is a response to the killings committed by the gang calling themselves the Butcher of the Wastes. The rest are to be brought to New Mesa where they too will be executed and displayed as a deterrent. Hopefully this will discourage the Flatlanders from picking up arms in an unwinnable war. The Confederate Army also shows mercy on their opponents even when they do not ask it.”

#

Mister Charles shook with anger as he read the report of Alexander’s actions. His actions had put the entire White Group at risk for the sake of a single Caravan. He waited for the Confederate response which he was sure would be swift.

It was.

Puck told him about the massacre at Ganhj and the reason behind it. Apparently the Confederate troops had really worked the place over before murdering fifty three of the town’s inhabitants as a response to the actions of the Butcher Of Wastes. Half of the bodies were currently hanging around New Mesa, just as Gretch had done when he had been in charge.

Charles collected the report he had received about the massacre and sent it to Alexander. He also included his message alongside the report.

“I do hope you had fun playing the Hero Alexander, However I do feel it doesn’t suit you just ask the fifty three Innocents. Or is it One hundred and six now?”

Charles regretted sending the message but he could not abide recklessness and felt it had to said. For all his combat skill Alexander still had to learn the wider consequences his actions could have especially when facing an enemy like the Confederate Army.

#

Ada as always reported directly to Mister Charles after her mission had been completed, not only had she successfully reproduced the plans but she had completely avoided detection. Charles commended her on her work and watched as the young woman left his office. She didn’t respond to his praise and not for the first time he wondered what Hope did to turn children into such emotionless killers.

#

The next day Charles had the plans Ada copied in his possession and was getting ready for an arduous journey.

“Ready Mister Costner?”

“Ready Mister Charles.”

Charles nodded and threw his pack onto the back of his horse before climbing on. Costner did the same with his own horse.
The two men were setting off from the Workshop and making their way to another meeting. The client had chosen a meeting point deep in The Flats which was becoming more common as the fear of Confederate spies was becoming more real.

Already Charles was seeing more and more signs of the occupation. Confederate Airship were making piracy a top priority as well as increasing their hold on New Mesa and the surrounding lands. It was clear the Confederates thought they were there to stay but what this meant for The Flats remained to be seen. Skycove was an obvious choice to attack as Charles had heard rumblings the Pirates were trying to sort out an Independent Navy although there were voices of dissent that thought it would be wiser to just migrate south and leave the Flats to the Confederates. Hope was something of a mystery as its interactions with the other towns were limited. There was no doubt they had weapons stockpiles but their religious beliefs meant they did not have many soldiers and would be unlikely to attack the Confederates unless directly threatened. Nevertheless Hope would be a place the Confederates would be wise to stay out of. Farpoint would fall quickly as it was a town founded on commerce and the Confederates had the most beads. To Charles it seemed unlikely that the Flats would be able to resist Confederate rule. While there was a willingness there to resist the people of the Flats were too disorganised to present a real threat.

They needed a leader.

The meeting they were travelling to would conclude Ada’s plan copying job. Mister Charles had been approached by a Group claiming to be attempting to put together an Independent Army that could one day dead direct blows to the Confederate Army. Of course Mister Charles had no interest in their fight. The White Group would always exist regardless of which flag the Flat’s where under. However when it became clear the group had substantial financial backing, thanks to Claude Kane who had recently inherited his mother’s fortune. In all the White Group had been heavily involved in starting the Resistance even if they were doing it for beads.

After a few days travelling they eventually arrived at the meet. It was taking place in a cave network to the west, a nice out of the way place where a meeting could take place away from prying eyes.

The two men spent a few hours scoping the place out but could see no signs of life.

Eventually Costner stealthily entered the cave but didn’t find anything amiss. The pair entered the tunnel network and eventually found themselves in the chamber where the meeting was to take place. Charles could feel the hair on his neck bristle, there was something off about the meet but he felt confident with Costner there.

Soon they heard a distinctive clip of heels against rock. Both men turned to face an Ochillian Woman wearing a white shirt and tan trousers.

“Madame Ti’loke?” Charles asked.

“Yes I assume you two are representatives from the Organisation?”

“The White Group? Yes, it’s fine to say the name.”

“Good Then it’s fine to say our name, the Flats Resistance Army.”

“Not an Army quite yet is it?” James asked.

“We’re recruiting.” The woman said a little defensively.

“We have the information as requested and our operative was undetected. In fact she tells me she was feet away from Colonel Autumn himself. Could have ended the whole thing there.”

“Why didn’t she?”

“If you’re good at something never do it for free. The Operative completed her task as instructed. Now to business.”

He opened the bag containing the plans but instead of producing them he pulled out a Revolver and pointed it at the woman.

“Miss Globe, I presume?” Charles asked solemnly as he pointed the weapon at the woman’s head.

“How’d you...”

“Know? The lie was good in fact it almost had me convinced. Until I saw your face. My Operatives told me about their encounters with you and the wounds on your face seemed familiar. The rest was guess work I don’t know any other female Ochillians that would need to resort to this kind of deception to get my attention.”

Miss Globe smiled.

“Very good. I hope you don’t think me a rank amateur but time was against us.”

“Us?”

“Ah it would appear you don’t know everything.”

Charles heard a sudden whoosh pass by his ear. Costner roared a curse of pain and when Charles glanced back he saw the man had a large blade sticking out of his shoulder. Costner quickly wrenched it out but Charles didn’t have time to consider what was happening as he quickly found himself tagged with an similar knife. Immediately he knew it was drugged.

“If it’s any consolation I got your man Alexander in a similar fashion.” Miss Globe explained.

Charles heard Costner hit the floor behind him and knew he was a few short seconds away from unconsciousness himself. He tried to steady his aim but Miss Globe was floating around the sights so he lowered the weapon.

“Bugger it.” He said before raising it and firing off every round he had.

He then collapsed.

#

A slap woke Mister Charles up and he saw himself staring into a horribly scarred face he knew all too well.

“Charlie! Welcome to the party.” Gretch beamed. He was wearing a leather apron that was covered in various knives and cleavers. “Me and your partner here where just getting acquainted, playing us some twenty questions.”

Charles took a second to get his bearings. He still in the cave but was now tied to a wooden chair as was Costner who was about twenty feet away and facing him. Costner had taken a beating to be sure but he was still more or less in one piece.

“I got questions Charlie. A lot of fucking questions and you two fuckers got answers!”

“If he finds the Workshop he will rape and murder everyone he finds in there do you understand?” Charles called out to Costner.
Gretch turned and looked at Costner. “Not even necessarily in that order.” He shrugged.

Gretch stretched and walked into a space roughly half way between the two men.

“Now we’re going to play another game. Twenty Questions is getting fucking boring. What to play though... what to play...” Gretch pondered as he stroked his chin in a theatrical display.

He abruptly clicked his fingers. “Mum’s not here, so why don’t we do something... bad?”

“Could you bloody well get on with it? I don’t have time to indulge your ramblings.” Charles said staring hard at the Madman.

“Alright. See Charlie that’s why I like you. Straight to the point. All Business. We coulda worked together and run these Confederate dickpleasers out of town but you hadda send one of your fuckers after me. So now you gotta die, then that piece of shit assassin you sent is gonna die and finally you know what’s gonna happen? All your little fucking killers are gonna work for me. Wanna know why?”

“As I said, let’s move this along.”

“The War. I’m the resistance, I wasn’t shitting ya. Who else is gonna stand up to these Confederate fucks? Who else can lead men? I took a bunch of fucking know nothing tribals and took New Mesa. I can send these solider boys back to whatever diseased whore spawned ‘em.”

“Eloquent as always.” Charles sighed.

“Here’s the deal, I want to know where the White Group club house is first. You know take care of the past so I can move on. So I’ve come up with a simple game to get me answers. Let’s take a closer fucking look at your friend’s chair.”

Gretch strode over to Costner and booted him in the chest knocking over his chair.

“See all these twigs and straw and wood and shit?” Charles looked at the heap that was tied under Costner’s chair. “That’s kindling! Don’t you worry now Charlie boy. Yours is exactly the same.”

Gretch heaved Costner’s chair back up.

“We’re gonna play us some Eeny Meeny Miney Moe. The loser gets to be barbecue and the winner gets to watch. It’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Gretch pointed at Charles.

“Eeny Meeny... Wait I don’t want any cheating so before you ask I’ve pulled those fucking false teeth Charlie. You can’t be sucking down no poison to get out of it, the loser is going to feel this shit.”

Gretch pointed at Costner and began his rhyme again.

“Eeny Meeny Miney Moe,
Catch a Tanu by the toe,
If he hollers let him go,
Eeny Meeny Miney Moe.”

He stared at his finger for a long moment before following it to the loser.

“I’m sorry Charlie. To be honest though it was always going to be you.” Gretch shrugged.

“You Fucker!” Costner yelled from across the room.

“Do NOT tell them anything! We WILL be avenged!” Charles shouted at Costner.

“Sure thing Charlie, whatever you say.” Gretch said as he gathered together some flint and crouched down behind Mister Charles.

“Do not let me down. Tell him nothing.” Charles said making eye contact with James.

Gretch theatrically smelled the air.

“I think something’s burning!”

Gretch exploded into gleeful laughter and got to fanning the flames.

“NO you Bastard! You sick fucking bastard!” Costner screamed from his chair.

The kindling quickly erupted and the flame travelled to the leg of Charles’ trousers. The man gritted his teeth and stared at the floor while trying to ignore the pain and Gretch’s frantic waving and dancing. He tried to go somewhere else, to a time when he was happy and undamaged but after a lifetime spent killing people for beads he couldn’t think of a single happy moment.

Like Gretch said he was going to feel the flame.

Costner watched as Mister Charles seemed to ripple behind the heat haze. Blood was running down Charles’ mouth from how tightly he was gritting his teeth but eventually he threw his head back screamed with pain. The scream filled the room and Costner thought it was loudest, longest thing he’d ever heard.

Gretch dropped to his knees with the twisted joy he was getting from the moment.

“Let it out Charlie! Die knowing I killed you!”

Soon Costner couldn’t see Mister Charles through the smoke and flame. All that told him Mister Charles was still there was the screaming but eventually it stopped. Then only the crackling of the fire remained.

Costner dropped his head.

As the fire died Gretch got to his feet and walked to Costner.

“I’m going to leave this here for you to take a right long fucking peep at. Tomorrow morning at dawn you are going to tell me where the White Group call home. What I did to that is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you. I just wanted to kill him. You I want answers from. You’ll be alive for days while I work on you. Fucking days.”

Gretch patted Costner on the cheek before standing and leaving the cave.

#

Eventually the smoke cleared enough for Costner to see what was left of Mister Charles and he felt his resolve waver. Gretch was going to kill him of that there was no doubt what Costner had to decide was if he was going to die keeping his word to Mister Charles or die quickly.

Costner didn’t sleep instead he spent hours just staring at Mister Charles’ immolated body and thinking about his failure. His first time out with Mister Charles and he’d let him died in the worst way it was possible to imagine. Costner closed his eyes and prayed to whatever God he could remember.

He prayed for the chance of revenge.

He was interrupted when he heard shifting rocks behind him and for a second felt fear grab his heart that it was already dawn.

“Psst James?”

Costner tried to turn in his seat but couldn’t see where the voice was coming from, then he felt small hands working at the ropes that held him. Once he was free he quickly stood and turned to face his rescuer.

Grubby faced Puck stood in front of him and wiped his nose.

“Puck how did you get here?”

“Found a hole in the ground.” The child explained simply.

“Why are you here?”

“Didn’t trust the meet. I always watch meets I’m not sure about. I have Mister Charles’ back only he don’t know I do.”

“Puck about Mister Charles...” Costner started as he positioned himself between the boy the horror of Mister Charles’ corpse.

“I know, but we gotta get outta here and tell the others. Ain’t no way we’re gonna take on nobody. No weapons and Gretch got an Army in the next chamber over.”

“An army?”

“Tribals all of ‘em but he sure got a lot. Let’s get out of here.” Puck sounded scared and the courage it must have taken for the boy the rescue him became apparent.

“Ok.”

#

Puck showed Costner the hole in the ground through which he entered the cave and Costner followed him out. On the way they passed along a rock shelf that took them over Gretch’s Army. Costner counted at least fifty tribals and there had to be more on patrols. It wasn’t enough to take on the Confederates but Gretch was building his army.

Eventually the duo found themselves looking at a make shift stable with a lone guard. Costner guessed there were only a few hours left until dawn.

“Don’t worry I know how we can sneak past him.” Puck said but Costner put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“You wait here and don’t come in. I’ll get the horse and bring it out.”
Costner got to his feet and walked to the Stable. Puck waited for about five minutes before Costner returned with a horse and covered in blood.

“James, you’re bleeding!”

“Not my blood kid.”

#

At dawn Gretch was surprised to learn Costner had been able to escape. He had assumed the cave only had one entrance but it was no matter without their leader the White Group would be no more, he’d had his revenge. As for Alexander without Mister Charles’ network to protect him eventually Gretch would track him down.

A thought then occurred to Gretch which sent him to the stable where the stench of death was over powering.

Every horse in the Stable was dead as was the guard. In fact it looked like before he’d left Costner had taken his time killing and mutilating the man. On the wall in blood was a simple message.

“Soon.”

#

“James are you alright?” Jenner Reese asked James Costner after he explained what had happened to Mister Charles.

“It was pretty rough but he took it like man. He was more worried about me breaking than he was about himself. He was one tough old bastard.”

“We have to let the others know. I’ll brief them when I put up this week’s jobs.”

“What do you mean? There’s no White Group, not anymore.”

“I’ve been working with Mister Charles for a few months now I’m sure between us we can keep it running. The operatives all know what they’re doing and I’m sure they’ll be out for revenge, we owe Mister Charles that as well, he took us in. We also need to find information about Mozambique or have you forgotten about that? I’M though running James, we make our stand here. We’ll kill Gretch, Avenge Mister Charles and go back to work.”

Costner nodded and left the office.

Jenner lifted a pen and started to write.

Jobs.

Before the usual posting of Jobs it falls to me to inform you of the death of Mister Charles at the hands of Gretch and Miss Globe. I assure you this action will not go unanswered. I am using all resources at our disposal to track down this man as well as his associates. To this end all operatives are to remain vigilant for any information regarding Gretch, Miss Globe or any Groups claiming to be the Resistance to the Confederate Army as this is the group Gretch is now commanding.
Additionally, according to Mister Costner, Gretch has a particular interest in the White Group therefore Operatives should take precautions while on Jobs.

Lastly while the death of Mister Charles is a tragedy I assure you the White Group will continue to operate. This would have been his will.

The Ringleader.

Jenner Reese.


Leave no Man Behind.

Target- The remains of Mister Charles.

Location- A cave Network to the west, in the Badlands.

Information- The Body of Mister Charles is to be recovered if possible and brought back to the Workshop where it can be interred.

James Costner can offer the precise location of caves, he should be consulted before you set out. The caves are in the middle of the Badlands so expect to encounter feral gangs of Tribals as well as the occasional, hopefully friendly, tribe of Ochillian nomads.
Lastly while we believe Gretch and his army have moved on, you are to collect any information possible about the group. This can be achieved through analysis of physical evidence or interviewing those who may have seen them passing through the area.
Be aware Gretch is a feral tribal and he is considered a legend amongst these groups if you are detected by a gang of roaming psychos odds are Gretch will hear about it.


Zong

Target- Cuervo “Slim” Banner

Location- The Zong.

Information- Unlike on the Flats Slavery is common in the Peaks. All races and genders have the potential to become slaves and once someone is branded a slave that is their station for life. Branding takes place on the cheeks as a method to easily identify slaves.

Slim Banner is a Slaver who is currently operating in the Flats he seems to be specialising in Ochillians, particularly women and children. Apparently they are sought after on The Peaks by the wealthy as they are seen as exotic.

It’s a dirty trade for dirty people. The client is the Ran-du Tribe who are nomadic traders like all Ochil. Apparently five of their group, two women and three children, were captured by Slim and his gang of Slavers.

Pirates are not welcome in most places in the Flats including Skycove, probably because many pirates are escaped Slaves. The Pirates have established a market called The Zong where slaves are traded before being brought north to the Peaks. Apparently Slim and his Slavers are currently there with the kidnapped Ran-du. You are to kill Slim and recover the five Ran-Du if possible. Expect them to be heavily drugged as this is the preferred Method to keep Slaves controllable. The Zong it’s self will be crawling with Slavers so be aware.


Tit for tat for tit for tat...

Target- Captain Melvyn Lewis

Location- New Mesa and the surrounding area.

Information- Captain Lewis led the attack on Ganhj that resulted in the execution of fifty three innocent people in retaliation for the deaths of Confederate Soldiers under his command. Apparently one of the fifty three killed is worth paying for revenge.
You are to locate and assassinate Captain Lewis. The client has specified, and these are the clients own words, “Let the bastard know his death is coming”. I’ll let the operative decide what that statement means.

Security in New Mesa is much tighter after the ambush so it may be easier to engage the Captain while he is on patrol. We have his previous patrol routes and times available in library.

Target Objective:Captain Melvyn Lewis
Location:New Mesa and the Surrounding Area.

The Unfortunate News

Ruby had rested quietly for the past few days, having jarred her ribs from the last mission, she was letting her bruises lessen before she asked for something new to do. It was painful for her to actually have to sit down, but for once her logical mind won out and so she made an effort to get to know her new family while she rested. It didn't take her long to make her rounds around the workshop and Ruby had acquainted herself with Ada, Arachne and Alexander well enough and in all honesty, now felt more than comfortable in the workshop and now around them. Of course each of them had their own way of carrying themselves. Hell, Ruby was in her own way batshit insane in one context or another at times, but she liked them all in their own special ways.

It was when Miss Reese posted the newest jobs that Ruby realised for the first the time the complications, repercussions and dangers of her new career and then realised the prolonged absence that Mr. Charles had been exhibiting. To her shock and dismay it was her newest employer and the man who took a chance on her who had suddenly fallen victim to the notorious Gretch and a woman Ruby honestly knew little about. As she read the small note, Ruby felt her teeth clench. It was an odd emotion for her to display, seeing as she had only known Mr. Charles for a short time; but the fact still remained, Ruby now felt anger and a burning revenge against Gretch and this Globe woman.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby glanced over the current missions, sorting through each of them, trying to find one that would lend her attention to the perfect distraction and add as a venting system for her current emotions. As Ruby read quietly it was the slaying of Captain Melvyn Lewis that made her tick.

"Perfect"

The Unfair Trial of James Earl Squire

Ruby had been travelling with Ochillian traders for two days now. Her time with the tribe had thus far been enjoyable and Ruby reveled in the rare acceptance among the Ochils with full hubris. Learning early from her mother, Ruby knew her best bet at survival in life was to keep an open mind and hold her tongue when it came to prejudice based on your skin and 'breed'.
It helped too that Ruby had spent her early childhood following her father around the surrounding Flats of New Mesa playing with and getting to know young Ochillian children; as a result, she now had friends among many Ochillian wandering tribes and was usually welcomed with open arms.

This particular tribe was resting for the day a few miles out from New Mesa, they had been circling the city for the last two days, as this tribe did often, waiting for outgoing and incoming Flatlanders to trade with. Ruby was, for once, quietly planning her attack on Captain Lewis. For a change she'd decided to make the whole ordeal something special for the Confederate fuckstick who chose to make a point of killing half of a helpless town. Ruby had taken the known knowledge of Lewis' previous patrol routes from the Workshop library and coupled it with the observations of the Ochils she was travelling with at the moment. Captain Lewis was more or less travelling the same routes he always did when he had to leave New Mesa, but by all accounts, since the public slaughter of Ganhj the Fed's higher ups had taken to less frequent movements outside of their major holds and it seemed Lewis', by Ruby's Intel gathering, had no intentions of leaving the safety of New Mesa, so Ruby had to get creative.

Ruby had decided that getting Captain Lewis out of New Mesa was going to have to be by use of bashing his apparently widely known huge pride and ego. When she'd come up to a dead end on how to taunt Captain Lewis out of New Mesa, Ruby decided to take a new approach and parted ways with her Ochillian friends, thanked them for their hospitality and managed to sneak herself into New Mesa during midnight. Weaveing her way in and out of alleyways Ruby had to refrain from strategically placing bombs all around the town and blow it up when she saw for the first time just how much the Confederate's had taken over the place. The sickening oppression that was slathered across the buildings and streets was incorrigible.

Using as much will as possible though, Ruby managed to slip herself in to the old brothel her mother had worked at before she moved away with Ruby's father and Ruby was thankful that for the time being it seemed the Fed's had allowed themselves some form of pleasure and kept, by chance, this brothel open. Ruby was even more lucky to find her mother's best friend Sera Hawthorne was now in charge and the woman, although clearly apprehensive, allowed Ruby to stay the night, also letting Ruby know that she was a wanted, well-known criminal at the moment since her detention at the Ingur Penal Mines Prison. Ruby rested up and prepared herself for the morning and whatever she was going to do next.

Ruby woke late in the morning and it was nearly 12pm by the time she'd made her way towards the town center. As she moved out into the town center from an alleyway she heard for the first time the shouting coming from a makeshift stage towards middle of the square. Ruby made a point to push herself through the crowd that had amassed, pushing herself in and out of little pockets of space until she was front and center wishing she hadn't made her way there.

The stage was medium in size, constructed of a metal frame, and wooden skirting clearly ripped from anywhere they could find as a base. It was made to look deplorable because it's purpose was heinous and unforgivable. Surrounding the base of the stage were the bodies of Ganhj townsfolk brought to New Mesa and executed. The poor people had clearly been sitting there for more than a few days and Ruby found a sickening anger begin to boil within her. The stage was a pedestal of sorts, that much was clear. It was a talking platform but also served a purpose as a podium at which the base was where all who opposed the Confederate Army were to end up if they crossed them. Ruby found the entire imagery of what they were doing was more than offensive and looking up to the top of the stage Ruby caught sight of the man reeling off a grandeur speech.

"How many more times does the Confederacy need to make this point people?"

Ruby cocked an eye brow, who was this audacious fuck?

"We've been more than patient, time and time again. We've provided you with more parlay than we care to admit and even after the warning we've displayed for you... Even after you stand here before me and look at the bodies of the people who defy the better change we seek to bring to the Flats, you still form these resistances".

The man motioned to the limp bodies tied to the base of the stage and Ruby looked around her as the crowd gave saddened frightened looks. Her eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as Ruby saw the uncharacteristic defeat of the New Mesa inhabitants.

"But, the Confederacy is willing to try and resolve these issues we seem to be having and today we are issuing our final warning and an end to our generosity".

The man on stage brought his hand up to the sky and then curled in into a fist until only his index finger was left pointing as he brought it down to motion towards a man who was kneeling, his hands tied behind his back and a hood over his head. The Fed official spouting his nonsense bullshit walked to the man after he finished pointing and pulled the hood off his hostage's face. The captured man was young in appearance, around Ruby's age; his face was smooth, almost flawless and the man had an almost perfectly defined jaw. Hie eyes were brilliant green, even from where Ruby was situated, his eyes could be seen. Whoever he was, he was fairly impressive to behold. He looked beaten, and was dirtied, but otherwise, Ruby had to admit, he was handsome.

"This is James Earl Squire. He is charged with attempted uprising and mutiny against the Confederation and his sentencing is public execution for the use of dissuading further injustice towards the Confederate Army. His death shall serve as the final warning to anyone who thinks of opposing the Confederate Army. Anyone from here on out who conspires against or who is even held under suspicions of Confederate uprising and mutiny will be punished with death".

The man relaying the name of his detainee then proceeded to pull a gun from his holster around his right side, pulling it's safety back and slowly aiming it point blank towards the young man.

"This sentence is to be carried out by me, Captain Melvyn Lewis, serving as the punishing hand of the Confederate Army, delivering justice, righteousness and -"

Captain Melvyn Lewis was cut short when his gun was shot from hand, causing the man to reel back and fall to his arse in shock. Scrambling back to his feet Captain Lewis stood up to find the source of his would-be killer standing just away from the base of the stage now, left in a small clearing as New Mesa residents watched in careful awe as Ruby stood aiming Sapphire directly up towards the captain. She felt the glare of everyone around her and Ruby felt a small smirk cross her own lips as the tension built and suddenly she could feel the attention of not only Lewis and most of New Mesa, but the careful aim of all available Fed's with guns in the immediate vicinity.

"Sorry there, thought i'd better interject... Seemed like Mr. Squire there was being misrepresented."

Captain Lewis was still shocked at the brazen attack on his handgun and it took him a few moments to regather himself before he spoke.

"Who the fuck are you? Do you know what you're doing? I am Captain-"

"I know exactly who the fuck you are Lewis." she said curtly. "you're the coward who massacred half a fucking town".

Captain Lewis looked taken aback. The audacity that Ruby was showing was clearly something he hadn't endured in a long time, if ever at all.

"Detain her." he said simply.

Ruby fired a shot into the shoulder of the soldier who came bursting out of the crowd and grabbed him when he fell to the ground, reeling around so he was now her human shield.

"I think we need to have a little talk". She yelled out.

Ruby forced her finger into the wound of the Fed soldier she was using to promote his willingness as she made their way up the ramp of the makeshift stage so she was on a more level playing field with Lewis.

"What the fuck are you trying? If this is some sort of Confederacy Resistance stunt, you're out of luck. The Confederacy has now inducted a no-tolerance, maximum punishment for any resistance fighters or persons of suspicion. This now includes you."

Ruby scoffed, rolling her eyes, making sure her frame was in constant protection by her hostage.

"Well, I just feel like Mr. Squire here isn't having a fair trial... but that's not why I'm here Captain Lewis. I'm actually here, on this stage for a matter that pertains to you."

Ruby watched as Captain Lewis cocked an eyebrow, feeling the tension of this entire stunt begin to rise to a plateau of no return. So Ruby cleared her throat and mad sure to speak loud enough so the entire town square could hear over the tense silence.

"I'm here to let you know Captain Melvyn Lewis, that I'm going to kill you tonight."

Ruby pushed her finger further into the hole of her hostage causing him to scream and then proceeded to shove him forward into Captain Lewis, causing the two to fall to the stage floor as Ruby made a quick turn towards James Squire, pulling her hunting knife from it's holster and with a quick strike, severing his bindings freeing him.

"You need to follow me!" she shouted as she dived from the stage as a hell-storm of Fed bullets rained down where the two just were.

Ruby jumped from the stage landing the five foot drop into a roll, feeling the jolt force her to clench her teeth tight as she realised her bruised ribs weren't as good as she thought. James Squire landed right next to her, rolling too and the two were in a mad sprint down an alleyway with gun fire following them all the way. Leaving the mass panic and screaming of the New Mesa residents behind them.

"You're fucking crazy! What was that? Who are you?" Jame yelled as they turned corner after corner.

"Your fucking guardian angel" Ruby laughed as she slowed down after the sixth turn and pulled James into the brothel she'd stayed in last night.

Ruby took a moment to breath deep and jumped when the whole of New Mesa suddenly resounded with alarms, something the Confederates seemed to have installed since her last visit. The noise was deafening and only broke when every few seconds a stern, but slightly cracked voice of Captain Melvyn Lewis issuing orders to kill James Squire and the woman helping him on sight. James looked to Ruby and she was surprised to see a stern look across his face, determination and a consistency that saw Ruby grin.

"You're gonna get killed staying here... we'll both get killed".

"We won't be here long enough" she joked.

Ruby moved fast and with James following her she greeted her mothers best friend who gave her a look of scared concern.

"Ruby, New Mesa ain't what it was... The Confederates aren't something to fuck with, and you brought your shit into my business!"

Ruby put a hand on her mother's friend's shoulder.

"Calm down Aunty Sera, me and my buddy here are leaving now. I think i've made my point clear here. I just have one last favour to ask.."

Ruby felt the tension surround New Mesa rise and she and James took the back alleys through the town, it was hard work avoiding public eyes, it seemed every man and his dog was out, Lewis had just issued a reward to residents if they brought Ruby and James into custody. Ruby had to close her eyes and concentrate carefully to drown out the incessant bullshit the confederate alarm was spouting. Sera had promised to keep Ruby's identity secret if the Fed's came to her asking questions for her history with Ruby, and her own secret hatred for the Confederate Army saw Sera, although frightened, it if it meant getting Ruby out alive, lying and risking her own life, as they weaved in and out of the alleys Ruby kept thinking of Sera's last words and hoped that her mother's friend heeded her own warnings,

"Be careful Ruby!" she called.

Ruby pulled James behind her as they reached a stalemate in their movements. She looked him in the eye, he shook his head, knowing what Ruby planned - they were going to have to run through streets now, they could hear the commands of Fed higher ups telling the grunts to start ransacking buildings and explore the alleyways. Ruby moved first with James tailing her tightly, the two tore down the street at an Olympic pace. The wind rushing past her face exhilarated Ruby, and she was more than surprised to find that their mad dash for freedom was less violent than she prepared for. But as the two made their way towards the northern exit of the town Ruby heard James call out to her,

"They're shooting!"

Ruby gritted her teeth, it was taking all her concentration to keep this half-assed plan going, in truth, Ruby was just guessing for the most part how and where to go, coming out of the back alleys near the northern exit was pure luck. Tryiing dodge the bullets was hard enough, but Ruby and James both knew they weren't gonna make it out without covering themselves with return fire. James however couldn't shoot, he was defenseless,

"Give me a gun, I'll help cover!" he shouted.

Ruby turned her head to her side, no fucking way was anyone touching her guns.

"No one touches my babies." she said curtly "Just keep running and concentrate on getting us out of here."

Ruby pulled Sapphire and Emerald from her holsters and began to fire back at the soldiers that made attempts on their lives as they picked up their pace even more. With a yee-haw and FUCK YEAH Ruby couldn't help but smirk as she made spot on hit after hit as the soldiers fell behind them.

It was when James announced they were near the exit that Ruby turned back around and took note of who they were now facing off. It was none other than Captain Melvyn Lewis standing with about twenty men at the entrance of the northern gate. It seemed he'd heard where they were going. James began to shout at her, asking her to stop the suicidal game of chicken but Ruby just cocked her head back laughing as she gripped tight on the revolvers, staring down the Captain. As they neared the gates, Ruby had to think quick, these gates out of New Mesa seemed to be supply gates for the condederacy. Dozens of barrels and supply crates littered the gate's area and Ruby took a gamble something in the barrels might be explosive. Gripping the revolvers sturdily Ruby suddenly found herself ducking her head as another hailstorm of bullets roared by as Ruby fired and an impressive explosion rocked the immediate area, sending Captain Lewis and his men to their feet.

The two broke through the attempted barricade, out into the Flats, their pace never lessening with Ruby shouting behind her,

"Remember Lewis! We have a date tonight!"

Hours had passed since Ruby and James escaped New Mesa and it was only after the two had had time to rest had she realised she'd actually taken a hit to the arm during their escape; the adrenaline rush seemed to have covered up the intense pain her left arm was now fighting. As Night was falling, the two had had to rest at a makeshift camp, having been pushed too hard. But thanks to a passing Ochillian tribe, Ruby had her bullet wound tended to; no where near fixed, she was at least going to survive but was going to have to make do with the stinging wound until she was back at the workshop.

During James' and Ruby's rest period they had learned that Captain Melvyn Lewis had, by the order of Colonel Augustus Autumn, issued a ban on entering and leaving New Mesa until James Squire and the unidentified girl were arrested and brought to justice and also that Captain Lewis was personally now touring the Flats to bring justice down upon them and that was speculated to be more of a order from Colonel Autumn for Lewis' embarrassment of the Confederate Army rather than Lewis taking it upon himself to find them.

Perfect.

Ruby reveled in the memory of the entire day and soaking up the glory of the whole showdown and then reflected on everything. James was still with her, and she'd learned he was the ringleader for a resistance group known as the Black Hornets. People consisting of residents of New Mesa and neighbouring towns. James had rallied people together in defiance of the confederacy but more so when Gretch went missing because James saw it as an opportunity to finally and eventually bring New Mesa and the Flats into something more than just an organised chaos. Ruby had a hard time believing anyone from New Mesa had good intentions, but the more James talked, the more Ruby began to believe him.

But Ruby had to let whatever crusade James was on be his mission, and returned her focus to finishing her current contract. James had asked if he could help Ruby and she reluctantly agreed as the two set about a plan in motion that should attract a fuckstick like Lewis to them.... with James inciting one final piece of wisdom before they went to action,

"Y'know... Publicly embarrassing Lewis like that is enough to put a target on your back by Colonel Autumn already. Killing Lewis will probably ensure Colonel Autumn doing anything he can to finding you and killing you.. and whoever else you're working with"

The Untimely Death of Captain Melvyn Lewis

James Squire returned to their previous camp and propped himself up a faux tent and set about creating a fire as he rested quietly waiting for the time when Captain Melvyn Lewis would 'stumble' upon his camp. Ruby waited patiently about three hundred feet north-west from James, her rifle - long shot- aimed directly towards his camp, her scope carefully trailing around the darkness for any signs of movement.

It was just over thirty minutes when a patrol group of nearly fifteen men came from the darkness and surrounded James. Ruby couldn't help by smirk quietly as Captain Lewis brought himself forward from the darkness, his own arrogance more than what Ruby anticipated. One of the soldiers was aiming a rifle towards James' chest, with Captain Lewis showing a bemused smirk across his own face, he seemed to think he'd won this one.

Ruby moved fast, bang, bang, bang. Three soldiers dropped. Ruby bolted from her position as she reloaded Long shot, hit the ground and aimed again as Lewis' men fired into her previous position. Bang, bang, bang. Three more soldiers down, moving and reloading again, followed by another bang, bang, bang. Ruby did this until Captain Lewis caught on to what was happening and had James in a choke hold with his own handgun at the hostage's temple as he found himself to be the last one left.

"Come out of the darkness you coward, or I finish what I started!"

Ruby made sure there were no more soldiers hiding in the darker perimeters of the camp as she moved into the light, sliding Long shot back over her shoulders and pulling Emerald out aiming it directly upwards towards Captain Lewis.

"It's a bit rich when you call someone a coward Lewis. As I recall you killed an entire town for no reason. That's pretty cowardly. Now me on the other hand.. I'm delivering true justice for the people of the Flats. A justice that requires you pay the penalty." Ruby said sternly.

"Fuck you" he said with a cracked voice, "I'll kill you both!"

"You were going to do something else?" Ruby smirked, pulling the safety on the revolver back, a satisfying click causing Lewis to flinch.

"I'll do it... I'll kill him then you."

"Go ahead" she shrugged, "I barely know him anyway, I only rescued him because it made this whole ordeal more fun"

Captain Lewis's furrowed his brow and grimaced and James' eyes widened in concerned,

"It wasn't my decision! I just had to carry out the orders! I swear... Please... I promise it won't happen again."

Ruby laughed, the coward was a bigger pitiful sack of shit than she'd realised,

"A pitiful excuse for a self-righteous coward."

Lewis grimaced again, his voice cracking again, he now sounded like a little boy, unexpectedly pulling the trigger of his hand gun and firing once into Ruby's already inured arm,

"Who the fuck are you?"

Ruby felt the sting of the bullet as it went clean through her bicep, but her ego and pride were greater than her pain threshold at the moment, and she barely flinched at the wound, instead she clenched her teeth and hoped to god she could hold up this facade just a little longer. Satisfied at his shock and horror of her composure, even after being shot at point blank range, Ruby cocked an eyebrow, flipping her head backwards flipping her bob from her face and then directly staring Lewis down, Ruby spoke with curled lips,

"Ruby Doom".

BANG.

Captain Lewis dropped to the ground, a single bullet through the middle of his eyes. Quietly Ruby removed a napkin from her person, pressed it to her lips, leaving a bright red lipstick mark and placed it in the pocket of the now deceased Captain Melvyn Lewis.

"Thank you for you help James Squire."

Ruby turned and drifted into the darkness, clutching her left arm tightly where the two bullet wounds stung deep. As she moved further into darkness she could hear the call of James behind her,

"I'll see you again Ruby Doom."

Ruby smirked.

Returning to the Workshop, Ruby brought in the identity badge of Captain Melvyn Lewis and gently placed it on the desk of the late Mr. Charles, tucking a small dossier underneath with her hastily scrawled rundown of the mission, detailing what had happened finishing it with the last words underlined the fucker's dead Miss Reese.

Target- The remains of Mister Charles.

Location- A cave Network to the west, in the Badlands.

Ada was caught off guard when she next read the job board. Mister Charles… dead? Though he had been absent a bit longer than usual, she had not expected something this drastic. What shocked her even more was the name that came after. It was no great leap to think that Gretch was involved, but the name ‘Miss Globe’ was all too familiar. It was a few jobs ago, when she was getting a rifle. She had fought the woman, but incapacitated her instead of killing her. Could it be that the woman was now after the White Group with Gretch? If so, it would be a direct consequence of Ada’s actions. Could she have prevented this?

Ada stood before the board for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. It was hard to believe that this Ochillian woman, Miss Globe, would take a defeat so hard as to come after the White Group, or more specifically, after Ada. Suddenly, a thought popped into Ada’s mind, troubling her further. She turned from the board and began to search for Alexander.

After a bit of looking, she found him. With little regard for what he was doing, Ada bluntly asked, “Was the Ochillian woman who held you hostage known as Miss Globe?" Though the question sounded strained, as if she was holding in anger, her face remained an emotionless mask.

"Yea, that's her name. And just a word of advice. If you think you're going to be captured. Chomp down on a bullet," Alexander answered.

Not wanting, or needing, to take any more of his time, Ada returned to the job board. It seemed this Miss Globe really was after the White Group, and Ada was the reason. The woman was behind both the murder of the White Group informant, and Alexander’s capture. Ada knew she would have to go after the woman. It was her responsibility for not killing her in the first place.

However, even with this knowledge, she had to admit that she would have made the same choice. It was not in Ada to kill when it was not necessary, and the woman had only been doing her job at the time. Now it was Ada’s duty to kill Miss Globe, and Gretch if the opportunity arose, to avenge Mister Charles.

Reading the jobs with only half her mind, she soon saw the mission to retrieve Mister Charles. She read half of it before she realized what she was reading. She pulled it down and reread it more carefully. She immediately sought out James for details on the location, and was interested in his brief recounting of how he escaped. The extra exit could come in handy.

She quickly gathered supplies, including a spare horse and a light, two-wheel cart to carry the simple casket, and set out. Something else was troubling her, however. She delayed starting the mission for a couple days and headed to Farpoint. She began asking around about the Lion-Heart Mercenaries. It was not long before she found out about the demise of the entire group, and the news was staggering. Though she had made every effort to keep from being associated with them, she still had killed them all. There was only one woman who could have done it, and only one way to avenge them. She would kill Miss Globe, and make at least that amend to the Lion-Hearts.

She quickly left Farpoint, and was able to keep a good pace for some time across the Flats. The sun beat down overhead, but Ada took little notice of it. Soon the badlands came into view, with their many peaks and canyons that suddenly sprang up before her. It was not long before she entered the shadow of a tall mesa at the entrance of a large canyon, stopping to allow the horse to rest before they would continue.

Suddenly, she heard something from deeper in the canyon. She peeked around the rock to see a group of Tribals. She could make out some mumbled curses as they slowly made their way through and eventually up a small path. Several times, she heard the name ‘Gretch’ and something about an army. However, despite all the swearing, Ada could not tell whether the men were going to join him, or merely mocking him. She kept herself carefully out of sight and returned to the horse to keep it quiet until the men were long gone. She did not want a confrontation with a bunch of insane Tribals now. She would take it if it came, but she would not go looking for a fight.

Finally, the men were gone, and Ada continued through the canyon. She led the horse instead of sitting in the cart, hoping it would be quieter that way, and not as rough over the uneven ground. She followed James’ directions carefully, but still had to backtrack a couple times. Soon, she was close to the caves. Ada hid the horse and cart a bit away from the caves, not wanting to be seen if anyone was still there. When she secured the horse, she continued the rest of the distance to the destination.

She highly suspected Gretch would not just leave Mister Charles’ body unguarded. The brute would suspect that the White Group would be loath to leave Mister Charles to rot in some cave. Ada was cautious as she checked the area, soon finding the spot where Gretch’s men camped. Ada carefully examined the ground, noting that the numbers could have been nearer to a hundred than to fifty by the time they headed out further west. Gretch was quickly gathering men. However, there was no sign of anyone currently there.

Ada cautiously proceeded into the caves themselves, still wary. Though she had steeled herself, seeing Mister Charles’ burned corpse was still gruesome. She stood for a moment, sealing her emotions so she could do her duty. Though Ada felt a cold rage building, she detached herself from it. Anger would not help her to make logical decisions now. She began the work of releasing him from what was left of the chair, working methodically.

Abruptly, she heard a sound behind her. Ada stood and turned, not surprised when she saw Miss Globe approaching, weapon drawn. The smirk on her face said that she had wanted Ada to hear her approaching.

“Adalin Nyx, I knew they’d have to send someone but I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to see you so soon.”

“Do not count yourself lucky. You owe a blood debt and you will not leave alive,” Ada said calmly, no doubt in her voice.
Ada drew her own blade, watching the woman closely and waiting for her to make a move. She heard a slight scuff on the sand behind her and whirled to see a man throwing a knife. Ada quickly dodged, knocking the blade away with her sword. A metallic clang resounded in the cave, along with the man’s swearing. Ada covered the space between them before he could react. His curses abruptly cut off as Ada’s blade plunged up through his diaphragm.

Ada withdrew her blade and allowed the man to drop to the floor, turning slowly as the rest of Globe’s rats crawled from their hiding places. ‘Murderers, all of them,’ Ada thought, disgust plain on her face. She slowly backed nearer to the wall, attempting to protect her back, though she did not like it. Globe just stood back, a smug look on her face.

“Don’t kill her! Just... maim her. She’s to be mine.”

Ada watched Globe out of the corner of her eye as the remaining four members of the woman’s group draw closer, each with a sword, dagger, or blunt weapon. They all looked like unintelligent grunts, but Ada knew better than to underestimate any of them. They obviously thought she would be easy to take down, and would pay for that dearly. Ada knew there may be more grunts somewhere out of sight, and kept her guard up.

Suddenly, a man with a short sword lunged. Ada easily dodged the blow, forcefully kicking him aside before hastily meeting blades with another of them. She exchanged a couple blows in quick succession before noticing another large man with a crude, spiked cudgel attempting to land a blow from behind. She ducked under the swordsman’s next blow, slashing at him and placing him between her and the club bearer as the brute swung. He hit the swordsman’s shoulder with the sound of ripping flesh and an angry bellow from the both of them. Though the men bellowed, shouted, and cursed, Ada was completely silent as she fought.

She turned to face the next man, as he levered a pistol at her. She rolled out of the way, causing him to miss. She heard Globe’s cruel laugh. It only served to intensify Ada’s desire to kill the woman, and she snapped back to her feet, lunging at the swordsman. He raised his blade, a fraction too late to protect himself fully from Ada’s superior speed. Her blade found his throat as his sword slashed her side, making a deep gash. A look of surprise appeared on his face as blood began to gush from the hole in his throat.

Most of these men were bigger than Ada was, but her strength and speed were more than one would expect by her frame. Now, she was out to kill, and each move was deadly and merciless, and meant to inflict killing damage. With a Guardian of Hope, even a former one, that meant almost certain death.

Ada whirled on the remaining three, watching as they again attempted to surround her. She gripped her wound for a moment as she forced the pain back in her mind, temporarily banishing it to the same place as her emotions. Smirking darkly, she stuck the tip of her sword in the sand at her feet and whipped it up, slinging it in the cudgel-bearer’s eyes and causing the others to flinch. That moment was all she needed. In an instant, she was at the man’s side. He managed to block the first two blows, but could not keep his gritty eyes open. In that moment, she slashed his stomach and he groaned in pain, crumpling to his knees.

Ada turned to face the last two, and she could see the fear in their eyes. She kept Globe in her line of vision, but the woman seemed content to allow Ada to slaughter her men. The man with the gun was aiming once more, having reloaded it. Ada charged before he could get his aim, expecting to plunge her sword through him. However, the man with the short sword lunged in front of him, blocking Ada’s blade with a surprising speed. Ada faintly saw a resemblance between the two, and wondered in the back of her mind if they were related.

Her sword clashed with the man’s with a slight screech, the force of the impact almost causing him to lose his footing. She jumped back, carefully watching the pistol man. Apparently, he had shot and missed, and he was now loading again. That was rather tricky with his New World weapon, so Ada had a bit of time. She had to make use of it.

She circled the remaining swordsman, watching for an opening. He lunged at her, but she parried the blow, using the opening she created to slash his left shoulder almost to the bone. She whirled again to face him, watching rage build on his features. He lunged again, raining blows on her harder than she expected. She blocked them with some effort, but knew he would not defeat her with this. She endeavored to keep the man between her and the man with a pistol, hoping that would prevent him from firing.

Finally, she heard a sickening crunch as the man’s blade snapped off, unable to take the hard blows on Ada’s Old World sword. He jumped back, but not before Ada landed a blow to the side of his thigh. He clutched it, his eyes flickering to the other man.

Ada turned her attention toward him again as he aimed and pulled the trigger. She leapt to the side, but was grazed just above her elbow. She used her momentum and lunged toward the gunman, who backed away. He knew he would not escape her, and closed his eyes calmly as she plunged her blade through his chest.

The swordsman screamed in rage, but the gunman was dead before he hit the floor. The swordsman jumped up and charged, still yelling, but Ada deftly stepped to the side, sweeping her blade at his legs and cutting deep into one ankle. As he fell, she pulled her sword back, deepening the cut. He hit the ground hard with a scream of pain. Ada met Miss Globe’s loathing glare as she stabbed her blade through his neck, silencing him.

Blood covered Ada, her blood mixing with that of the men. She walked toward the Ochillian woman, a cold, pitiless look in her eye. Miss Globe was still confident she could beat the ex-Guardian, the woman who she had pursued because of an ornamental rifle. Ada cared little; she would dispatch the woman with the same fervor with which she had slain her cronies.

Miss globe felt almost giddy with anticipation of the coming the fight. She felt stronger and faster than she ever had in her life and knew this encounter could only end in the death of Adalin Nyx. Still she couldn’t resist goading the assassin.

“I watched him, Charles, as he burned and screamed. I used to think people like Gretch were worthy only of scorn, thought them honourless curs. Now I see my error, it really wasn’t that bad, honour is how the weak control the strong. You’d know all about that coming from your orphan cradle in Hope...”

Ada cut off Miss Globe’s words with a precise lunge, starting their fight. They were almost as evenly matched as before, but this time, Ada was out to kill. She began to gain the advantage, not holding anything back. This time, her intent was to kill, not incapacitate, and she could feel Miss Globe’s surprise at the change. Ada slashed and ducked, parrying blows and trying to find a good opening. However, despite Globe’s lesser strength, the Ochillian woman was slightly faster.

Ada managed to knock Globe’s blade aside for a moment, and aimed her blade for the woman’s throat. Globe managed to knock the attack aside, but Ada’s blade lodged itself into her flesh, just above her collarbone before Ada jerked it up and out. Globe lost some of the mobility of her left arm, but lost none of her fury.

The woman unexpectedly kicked low and fast at Ada’s legs, making her lose some of her balance as she jumped back. Globe then slashed at Ada’s face, taking advantage of her weak stance. Instead of plunging her rapier through Ada’s eye, Ada managed to dodge slightly and a shallow cut appeared under her left eye. She stumbled back for a second before leaning forward and pushing a leg behind her to regain her balance.

When Miss Globe lunged forward again, Ada was ready, and met her blade with a sharp clang. Ada grimaced slightly as the pain in her side intensified for a moment, but she did not allow herself to be slowed. Slow meant death and she would not die without taking the Ochillian with her.

Both Ada and the woman jumped back, and Ada took the short moment to catch her breath. She was coming to the limit of her endurance, and would have to end this quickly. She remembered how easy it was to get the Ochillian riled, and how easily the woman forgot herself in rage. At the same time, Ada remembered the last thing she had said to the woman.

Without allowing any emotion on her face she straightened. She allowed a small smirk, saying in a bored tone, “What an enjoyable fight, Miss Globe. You are still not living up to my expectations though."

The woman’s angry response was immediate, but would ultimately be her downfall. Ada readied herself as the woman charged with all the ferocity and curses that Ada remembered. However, this time, instead of beating Ada back easily with her rage-filled blows, Ada was holding her ground for the most part. Globe began to tire slightly, and that was all it took. Ada began driving the small woman back, but this served to infuriate the woman more. She managed to slash Ada a couple more times, but never inflicted any real damage. However, Ada’s smirk only grew.

Finally, the Ochillian discovered why as she found her foot caught. She blacked out for a second, almost instantly regaining consciousness to find her hand gone, still attached to her sword a few feet away. Ada had her other arm pinned to the ground with a heel, and planted a knee on the woman’s chest as she laid her blade across Globe’s throat.

“Killing for your own convenience, your own pleasure, is despicable. Now you pay the price,” Ada said, an oddly calm tone to her voice. She cut off any last words Globe might have had, slashing her throat. It was too easy a death for such a woman, but Ada would not stoop to her level of indulging in torture. There was no justice in that.

She wiped her blade on the woman’s dirty blouse before sheathing it. She left her corpse lying in the corner, turning her attention back to Mister Charles’ remains. She pulled a thick roll of linen from her pack, and laid out his body, gently wrapping it. She carried the linen-wrapped corpse, sparing no other thought for the bodies she was leaving behind. They deserved no burial and no respect.

She quickly came back to the horse, which started at her arrival. Ada gently placed Mister Charles body in the casket, shutting the lid. She stopped a moment to say a short prayer for the dead, before tending to her own injuries. She managed to stop most the bleeding in her side, but still forced herself to rest for a while.

Soon, she mounted the cart and started out of the canyon, leaving the caves behind. Fortunately, she encountered no one on her way out of the badlands, though she would not have been surprised if some Tribals had seen her. She did not try to be silent, instead, focusing on getting back to the flatlands. She did not really care if Gretch found out about her and began coming after her. In fact, she welcomed it. However, nothing happened.

Finally, she emerged into the evening sun, taking a moment to observe the landscape before her and check for anyone following. Over the next few hours, she made sure to conceal the carts tracks and lose any possible pursuers. Ada went to the arranged burial place, finding Puck there. He immediately went to notify the others, but as soon as Jenner and James arrived, Ada left.

She had never believed funerals were necessary. In Hope, she was taught to ‘let the dead bury the dead.’ Guardians, and those training to be a Guardian, left burial to gravediggers, and a deceased Guardian, no matter how important in life, was buried simply and without ceremony.

She wandered for a while on the pretense of making sure she had no pursuers, and did not return to the Workshop to deliver her information until well after the moon had risen.