Arkaneh entered the warehouse with his golden mask in his hand. Wreckage and ruin were all he could see between its walls. Bodies wearing white Elastics littered the floor around the back door he just walked through. The walls were riddled with bullet holes and blood spatters. Bullets casings and empty magazines laid everywhere and the smell of gunpowder was still noticeable in the air.
At that moment, walking among a sea of bodies in a field of death, Arkaneh remembered the Night of Obliteration. He wondered if this was how Rage Legion's outpost looked like after Joseph Mallistrom filled it with Sorelium gas.
Some voices came from further inside. As Arkaneh paced towards them, gazing at the death around him as he went, he found Griffiths along with 11 more of his men. The men all looked tired and stricken while Griffiths looked upset. 11 men left… that means that out of 6 men from the warehouse group and the dozen more from the backup unit, we lost 7 men. Arkaneh now noticed the bodies scattered around his fellow living brothers. Casualties on their side. It was an awful sight, and Arkaneh acknowledged it in his mind, yet his appearance remained composed and cold. He didn’t seem shocked or repulsed by the image before him.
Once Griffiths noticed Arkaneh, he left his men and went to the far corner of the warehouse, where the other men wouldn’t be able to hear or see him. Arkaneh knew that he wanted to express his opinion on the plan without having anyone knowing about the rat, so he naturally followed him.
He approached Griffiths, trying to look as humble and respectful as he could. "I'm sorry that it turned out this way," Arkaneh said. "But we accepted this risk when—"
"7 men dead," Griffiths snapped. "DEAD!" The old lieutenant looked enraged as much as he was in grief.
"And what about the men who were killed by the Justicars so far? They're dead too and it's because of your rat!" Arkaneh snapped back. "We had to do this."
"Yeah, about that 'we' part. Where the fuck were you? I didn’t see you during the fight."
"I was attacked myself by a Justicar before I entered through the back."
"Is that so?" Griffiths looked doubtful.
"Yeah. I managed to fight him off. He ran away." Griffiths breathed heavily as he took a second to process Arkaneh's story. Eventually, he simply moved past it, not paying it much thought.
"Well, what the hell do we tell the rest of our brothers now?" Griffiths asked. "I mean, it's only a matter of time now before they talk among themselves and figure out that we were up to something. How are we going to explain that? We can't tell them about the rat, how's that going to look?"
"No… that's exactly what we have to do." Griffiths looked perplexed. "Look, everyone's going to know now that there were 4 different groups, even though they all thought there were only two. We'll also have to explain the presence of our backup unit of a dozen men. Plus, like you said, there's also the fact that all groups will claim that Blackburn's men never showed up. No lie can cover up so much."
"If we tell them, it'll reach other gangs. We'll look weak, not to mention we'll be letting our rat know that we know about him."
"Let him know. If anyone tries to run or hide, we'll know it's him, and then it's just a matter of hunting him down. Regarding the other gangs… once we deal with our rat, we won't look weak at all."
"Fuck!" Griffiths appeared mad again. "I can't just spread this on my own authority. This is too big."
"Then it's time to tell Reus." Finally.
"Shit, I guess it is. I don’t even want to imagine his reaction."
"We were going to tell him at some point either way."
"Alright, but you're coming with me to see him."
"See him?"
"Yeah, Reus never talks about these things over the phone. Even with all his influence and power, he refuses to be careless enough to let anyone have the chance to get incriminating evidence on him, so we're going to have to meet him face to face. And don't flatter yourself. The only reason you're coming along is so I'll have the guy to blame for this mess next to me. I don’t want this shit to fall on my back."
"Fair enough."
"I'll keep the rest of the guys in the dark until Reus gives the order to spring out the truth."
"Then it's best to get on it fast. You won't be able to hold everyone on edge for long. They're going to want to know why they just lost 7 brothers."
"Yeah… I know."
Griffiths walked away, joining his men at the front exit. As Arkaneh walked with them, he looked over the bodies wearing gold. Some were stacked on others, some still had their eyes open, and some had taken bullets to their heads while others to their chests and probably went through a much slower death. Deep within, Arkaneh knew that he was the one responsible for their deaths, yet he didn’t feel much sorrow or regret. These people… these brothers of mine… none of them had a bright future ahead of them. They pollute this country with crime and misery. Why should I feel sorry for them? Why should I shed a tear over their deaths or even act like I care?
He was just about to look away and let the image wash away from his memory when he noticed a certain body that he recognized. The body was buried under another one, but the boy's face was still intact and recognizable. It was the young man with the OldGen name, the one who borrowed a cigarette from Arkaneh in the rain just a short while ago. Raymond… he remembered his name. He was so young, only 17 years old, so he told me.
"Poor kid," said Griffiths as he noticed Arkaneh lingering over Raymond's body.
"Did you know him?"
"Raymond? Yeah, of course. He was a good kid."
"Such a shame."
"Yeah. It is," Griffiths's voice had a certain sadness to it, and even though Arkaneh tried to make his voice sound the same, deep within he felt the exact opposite as Griffiths.
I don't feel sorry for Raymond. He chose to be a criminal. It was his choice that got him killed. He may have been young, or a 'good kid' as Griffiths put it, but I won't feel sorry for him. For what it's worth, Raymond, know that your death wasn’t in vain. My plans just crossed another step, as I'm finally going to meet Reus Mallistrom.
