Chapter 5

 

                                                     N  A  M  E  L  E  S  S

The team departed for the bar an hour before dawn, despite the knowledge that it wouldn’t take long to reach the destination. Fallon had a ball of anxiety that made her chest tighten inside her armored breastplate. But she maintained a stoic expression the entire journey to the city, she and the following convoy trekking through the hard beech tree forest. There must have been about twenty of them, select members of the council as well as a fleet of Dominika’s most trusted men and women.

The bar was small, tables and chairs barricaded against the front door and windows. Dominika barked orders at them to get into position before following her leader and other fellow council member through the back door and into the kitchen. Once inside, Marco pulled up a chair, sitting on the back of it and resting his feet in the seat. He braced his forearms and his knees, rubbing his hands together and peering through the grimy window panels subtly, nodding at Agnes to confirm that things were on track for the time being. He was anxious too, though his apprehension was directed more at the protection of his leader. It unnerved him to no end that they had not only known what she looked like, but her name as well. It started a queasy unease in the pit of his stomach as soon as he’d read the words off the paper slip. He didn’t like this, any of it, but for now he has another forty-five minutes until dusk. He kept his head low but his eyes glanced up and took note of Fallon – who was looking in between the legs of tables and chairs to memorize the area at the front – and Dominika, who was standing so stiffly he feared she might snap in two if someone hit her hard enough. “Take a load off, we’re gonna be here a while.”

Nodding, the stern blonde pushed herself into a sitting position on the bar top, settling on the same pastime the Latino had: observing Fallon. Their favorite Scot finally finished analyzing the outside through the filthy windows and turned around, squinting at both of her closest colleagues before moving to light the candles they’d brought. Dominika began to laugh as Marco rose to help her, voice quiet as she watched the discrete affection between her favorite couple, “You both are so cute.”

Fallon glared at her over Marco’s shoulder, his considerable height over her leaving only her head above the eyes visible. He however hung his head forward, bashful smirk on his face that the Russian could not see. Marco put an arm around her neck, leaving it bent so that he could pull her closer and whisper into her ear, and being sure to stay out of the direct line of view to the small window. The panels of glass were coated with dust and mud, a brown-yellow hue blocking out details from as much as a few feet away. But still, a relationship like theirs didn’t go on for as long as it has without a great deal of caution, so they kept to the unviewable portion of the bar.

“You have not had much time to see one another much this week, no?” The blonde leant forward in interest, Fallon and Marco were the second best kept secret in the entire League. The first being an -undisclosed fact about herself. She found it was a nice topic to take her mind off of her normal responsibilities.

Fallon sighed to herself as Marco’s tentative hand left from its place across her shoulder replaced itself at her waist, “No, not really.”

Dominika hummed with an expression that made her best friend consider asking about her secret. After all, she was the only one who knew about it.  But she didn’t have the time, the Russian laughed dryly, “Speak! My comrades, it is too awkward for you not to.”

Marco chuckled, head hidden in the hair of the female beside him, “We just wanted to see you squirm.”

Fallon bust in quiet amusement, “She doesn’t squirm. I don’t even squirm. The only one who ever squirms is you!” Fallon cupped a hand over her mouth to quiet her laughs, Dominika joined her as Marco’s neck and ears began to tinged with red.

“This is true! I remember this, perfectly. He had done something to anger you, you never did tell us what though.” She cast a pair of light eyes at Fallon, a look  with a double meaning. “The whole day he came around you, you would not speak to him. And you gave him the glare, and as much as he tried not to, he just continued to squirm and wriggle.” She folder over with laughter, face flushed and eyes watering.

Fallon was snickering too, Marco chuckled again, turning his head and hiding it in Fallon’s hair, shaking his head and placing a gentle kiss to her scalp as he laughed. “To be fair, I didn’t really do anythin’ wrong.”

Fallon pulled away with a scoff and slapping his chest, “Ye called me a scrabby brat!”

 

Dominika’s jaw fell open in shock, and Marco went to cover his own mistake but no words came out of his mouth when he opened it. At a loss for words, the Latino’s face slowly became redder and redder, eliciting heavy and harder to smother laughs from the girls.

Agnes noiselessly made her way through the small hallway from the backdoor. She could hear quiet laughter and she pressed herself against the wall, peeking just beyond the broken doorway. She could have never prepared for what she saw. Fallon and Marco, she was quickly regaining her blank composition; his arm was around her waist, pulling her body closer to his and whispering in her ear. Agnes felt her throat dry up and her jaw drop down with body stiffening shock. Agnes didn’t think Fallon had a heart of her own, let alone one to give to someone else. And Marco, yes he’d had a reputation of light flirtation, but he always refused any kind of real affection.

Agnes put a hand to her chest and turned around and walked out. She burst out the door, gulping for fresh air. Trevor, who had been awaiting her return was suddenly in front of her, “You good? Okay?”

She took a deep breath and pressed her hands on her hips, acting as though it was the first time she’d seen him, “No, no, I’m grand. I’m grand.” Trevor remained unconvinced, but backed off all the same. He knows that Agnes can be odd, so he brushed off the peculiar behavior

She herself ran a hand through her frizzy red locks, sly smirk stretching across her features as she realized just what she’d stumbled upon: an intellectual gold mine.



Not twenty minutes later was there a pounding on the bar walls, the sun only flirting with the horizon. The three sobered quickly, smiles falling quickly from their faces. Fallon’s hand ghosted underneath her rag, popping the safety latch of her holster. Dominika jumped from the bar, unforgiving expression back upon her face. She and Marco came to stand at either side of Fallon. After all, she was the one mentioned in the letter.

For a moment, the building was silent, the only sound heard was Fallon’s steady breathing.  

In…..Out……In…..Out…..

The sudden heavy thump of footfall caused all them to tense, and through the disintegrating doorway stepped 3 people. They were each older than the Company members, by at least a few years.

For a moment they each just stared at each other, reveling in the appearance of one another. The newcomers were ragged looking, clothing with multiple stitches from where they had to be repaired time and time again. There were three, two men and a woman.

The man in the back left was young, mid-twenties, at most. He had sun kissed skin and sandy blonde hair, it was shaved on each side and longer than finger length on top – a style that was very popular before the end. While he adorned a serious expression, there didn’t seem to be much of a threat behind his glare.

The woman had soft brown hair identical to her complexion, it fell in loose open curls down her shoulders. Beneath thin brows and a heavy lash line were sharp, teak wood colored eyes. She had an angular face shape, with wide thick lips to match and fair cheekbones. Her slender neck led to delicate clavicle where a pendant sat between her chest strung up with a silver chain. She had a muscular frame, clearly appearing to be the bite behind her leaders bark.

The man in front, presumably the leader, had the features of a man of 40, but the expression of someone much older. He had a bony face that made his cheekbones and chin jut out and a long, crooked, beaklike nose. He had greying skin and some wrinkles, accompanied by unsettling eyes. They were flat and black, beady eyes that sat menacingly inside hollow eye sockets. They flickered slightly with every interested moment.

He stepped forward, wide, shifty grin embedding itself on his pale lips, “Well, allow me to be the first to introduce myself”, Fallon had an immediate dislike to his voice. It reminded her of motor oil; slick and toxic. “I am Alastor James Walker. There are my associates, Ramiro Jones and Persephone Williams.”

Dominika raised a brow at the woman, “I thought people with names like Persephone only exist in novels.”

Persephone rolled her eyes, “My folks were curators of the Grecian Department of the World History Museum.” Marco noticed that much like her Leader Alastor, her words hinted with an accent from Australia.

Fallon’s scrutinizing gaze eyes them all, blandly stating, “He who judges, She who destroys peace, and He who she beckons.”

Alastor’s unsettling stare leveled with her own upon the end of the statement, remaining there as Marco summarized just afterward, “Judge, jury, Executioner, and the criminal who brought them all together.”

Ramiro and Persephone glowered hatefully at him and Dominika communally, although Alastor appeared unfazed, Dominika noticed the entire room became eerily calm and quiet as he smiled again, “Alastor also means the Avenger.”

“Is that your endgame?” The collection of people jump a little, having seemed to forget she was even there during their glaring match. With the exception of Alastor, whom had maintained jarring eye contact with her the whole duration of the conversation. The only response she received was a curious head tilt.

Taking advantage of the tension filled silence, Persephone answered Fallon’s question, “What d’ya think we are? Armageddon enthusiasts?”

“And what else have we been led to believe? We’ve been under constant surveillance for the last 12 days.” Dominika sassed.

Ramiro made a face, making his first statement of the day, “And you didn’t? And for the record, your diggers are dills. We spotted them from a couple clicks away”, his expression changed from one of anger to one of arrogance, “How could we knock back that opportunity?”

Marco chimed in again, covering his growing frustration well though his accent was thick, “Excuse us for covering our bases.”

Persephone clenched her fists and stepped forward into Marco’s face, “You think we weren’t?”

Marco shrugged, “Who knows what you were doin’”

Persephone barked at him, “You lookin’ for a blue, bloke?”

“Enough.”

Alastor’s oil slick voiced hardened, Persephone angrily stepped back and reluctantly closed her mouth. He turned away from the Company delegates, leveling a fear inciting look at his right hand woman and part time anything else. When he turned back, he had that embarrassed smile that a parent gets when their child says something inappropriate in front of the house company.

 

“That’s not why we’re here, remember love? Miss Fallon, we have contacted you in order to propose you join us.”

Fallon arched one eyebrow in question, “Join ye?”

His expression relaxed and became one similar to that of a skeevy car salesman: you have to make the sale. “Yes. Join us. Bring your entire base, and join ours.”

“No.” Fallon replied immediately.

Alastor was taken aback by her sudden answer, eyebrows furrowing, “What? Surely you want to at least think about it.”

“No. We've worked too hard tae get where we are.”  

“We have the means, the weaponry, and the supplies to take care of all of you.”

 

Fallon didn’t miss a beat, “No thank ye. We appreciate it, but no.” Fallon maintained her stoic expression as though she had just politely declined an apple rather than a life altering decision.

 

Alastor clearly attempted to maintain a placid expression, beady black eyes betraying the sudden flare of anger in his eyes. “Well, it was a real pleasure to have met you.” Ramiro and Persephone began to arrogantly make their way out the door with a final glower each, Alastor paused and put his hands in his pockets. He lingered for a moment, expression as though he was still concealing anger, but he appeared to be in deep long term thought before he stated with that same, crooked smile only deeper in his cheeks, “Cheers”, and left. Fallon felt something turn in her stomach  like red flags going up in her brain.



Whist they exited, the now familiarly sharp feminine voice bellowed back, “Farewell, no-hopper dipsticks.”

As soon as they were out of sight, the most unsettled of frowns and hardened eyes glazed over Fallon. “I didn’t like that. Not one bit.”

Dominika put her hands on her hips, “I doubt any of us did.”

Marco smoothed a hand over his hair, gently rubbing the back of his neck, “I get the feeling that we’ll all be a little on edge tonight.”

Fallon shook her head, “There's something hidden under that nauseatin’, oil slick, crooked smile, I know it. This ain't over, not by a long shot.”