42

Tiv

Tuesday 22nd September, Year 828

Father and I had argued. If I'd been in front of him I'd certainly have had a mark to show for it.

I called him after we finally escaped Thruck Harbour and moronically suggested sending aid rather than bombs to Vakoso. I figured it would quell the riots at the very least. Most of the scabs only stole food from our supplies which kicked awake a Tiv that had been sleeping for a long time. It had been reported back to us that only a brazen few stole the weapons and explosives. Over three hundred Vakosians were killed after the explosions mostly because they wanted to eat. I told Father we had destroyed Vakoso and were continuing to do so by not offering them freedom. My Father's response was stronger than I expected. I was told I was a coward. I was told I was unemployed. I was told I was cut off entirely financially and no longer welcome at the family home… I was told I would never see Beau or Meredith again. Surprisingly, the moment he said it, I felt like I'd been removed from chains. I was relieved. As he hung up the phone, snapping I was no son of his, something inside me snapped. I saw clearly for a single moment how used I had been: I had taken a job I despised at his behest. I was marrying a woman whom I held nothing but disdain for because he insisted the match would help him. I was living in a country which was not home because he would not allow me to leave. I had finally returned home, the only place I had wanted to be for three and half years, to kill people because it looked good for him while he sat in his ivory tower in Lambent.

I had struggled without the pills and alcohol over the last few days, though the pills were worse to live without. Fatigue descended like a heavy cloud, enveloping me in a weariness I hadn't anticipated. I did not realise I had much of an appetite I had until I devoured my week's rations within the space of a day, forcing Marco to share his food with me. He was surprisingly willing to part with it, almost like he was relieved I was eating.

Nights were restless, not helped by the lack of alcohol. Worst of all, anxiety rapped at my brain like someone hammering a nail into a wall. A crawl like ants constantly wriggled over my skin, my temperature flaring hot and cold. I wished for bed—sleep—yet the only rest I got was in the armoured cars that transported us. I hated being in Vakoso. I hated myself. Those pills were the worst thing I had ever done. Yet the only reason I had ever used them in the first place was to abide by my Father's idiotic schedule. The man slept roughly four hours a night and I was usually just getting in as he was getting up. I was constantly at his beck and call. If I did not answer the phone I was threatened. If I did not do as he said the threats were acted upon. It was lunacy. My Mother's aspirations for Marco and I always aligned with my Father's. It was one of the only things they agreed on: their children were to obtain successful jobs and marry into good families. However, for all my Mother's flaws, I knew she would not have wanted this life for either of us. Yet I had accepted it willingly, always so scared that, if I ever said no, my Father would beat me and take the family and money I'd never known life without.

In the end, when he took it, all I felt was relief. Even the threat of his fist seemed lessened. I was in Vakoso now and could stay if I chose to, though defecting seemed like an exceptionally moronic idea given the circumstances.

"What is the plan Tiv?" Xander asked.

"He's my second now. You all take orders from me," Marco announced, his voice resonating through the hollows of the derelict parking lot we'd commandeered as our makeshift operations centre.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Xander's jaw clench; his eyes bore into Marco as if willing him to turn around and face the fight he was itching to have. While I wished to back Xander up in his assertions, Marco's takeover was logical; I was in no fit state to lead, though I didn't dare admit the fact out loud. A part of me was relieved though a much larger fragment felt ashamed.

The walls of the parking lot seemed to absorb our hushed strategy session. Strewn across the hood of our SUV's was a map speckled with circled areas and scribbled notes.

Xander's team, himself alongside Tala and Ragen, scouted the city by night. Tala reported back that Umbrith completely ignored their existence, cementing the fact that they did not attack Lambentians. My only thought upon learning this knowledge was that I could have easily saved Sarah and Lucy Hall all those years ago…

Xander reported back every other tiny detail he could find. I was sure he was secretly a genius hiding behind the guise of a functioning alcoholic. He was the best out of everyone at reconnaissance missions and seemed to be very perceptive of people's behaviour.

"Their talk is as loose as their security; overheard enough to sketch out half their plans from a rooftop across their watering hole," Xander jested.

"Their bar is a shambling old structure on Haven Street" Tala muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Leaning walls and floors. Don't even know how the building's still standing."

"Sixteen regulars who think they're revolutionaries," Xander continued. "Armoury's laughable; just some small arms, though they nabbed explosives from our stockpile at the dock."

Marco's expression darkened slightly at this mention however quickly relaxed into an expectant smirk. "And how do they plan on guarding this den of theirs? Or should we expect the doors to swing open upon our arrival?"

"Two ways in or out," Ragen cut in quickly before Tala could speak again. "A main entrance facing southeast and a back door creaking on its hinges by the north wall."

Marco's gaze stayed on Ragen a hair too long; the corner of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible twitch. She smirked however, for a fraction of a second, her eyes darted to mine. I had ended up falling into bed with her on the ship over and realised that was probably why Amelia was so pissed off with me. The glance didn't go unnoticed by my harpy fiancé yet she mastered her composure in a way in which she would not have were we behind closed doors.

"I will take Regan, Jonas, Eddie, Demetrius, Justus and Ashley in through the front door. Tiv you will take everyone else in the basement door at the back of the building, the rest of you stay outside and shoot anyone who tries to flee. Our objective is to seize as many of them as possible so we can find out who else is involved with their plans. If you can't seize them and they die, just make sure to clear out any information they have as you leave. Also, grab as much of the explosives as you can too, we'll want that back. Does everyone understand?" Marco said.

There was a chorus of agreement from everyone but Jakori, I knew he wanted to be here less than I did; he was in it for the money and I was pretty sure he despised Marco and Jonas.

Our security briefed Marco and I that we would be unable to join our friends in the assault. He dismissed them promptly. Surprised, I moved to caution Marco that Father would kill him before a nasty thought took root: we were probably more valuable to Father dead than alive. He could collect more sympathy votes if we were martyrs. The security did not leave without a heated discussion yet Marco and I stood firm on our insistence. They eventually yielded; we were Hawes after all. We convinced them that if they wished to return home with a job, they had to do as we said—it was all lies, Father would overrule us in a moment, yet they reluctantly obliged our orders. However the moment they were gone, Marco caught the unease etched on my expression and reminded me I had come to suppress a rebellion, not spectate and watch my friends die in a pointless war. He was right, although there was a nagging voice at the back of my mind, getting louder and louder each day, telling me the Vakosians did not deserve it. It was with hidden reluctance that I backed Marco up in dismissing our security. We would do what we came to do then return to Lambent where I would cut Anthony Hawes from my life like a cancer, the way I should have years ago.

"You do not seriously intend to stay?" Amelia hissed scornfully.

"Why would I sit on the sidelines and watch Kale and Xander dive headlong into the fray?" I grinned at them and Xander ruffled my hair.

"Prick," I grinned, shoving him away.

"Tiv, you're being ridiculous! Come on, we're leaving," she demanded, seizing my hand.

"Amelia, I'm not letting them walk into that building without me," I insisted, withdrawing from her grasp.

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"You have only ever cared about putting on a show. Do not change now," she seethed.

The group looked to her and her scowl immediately dropped, replaced instead with pleading eyes. She had given too much of herself away. Regardless, I gave her no ammunition. Only my steely silence met her venom. Something about being in Vakoso made me feel like the person I used to be, not the son sculpted by Anthony Hawes. That person would have walked away from Amelia and never looked back after the first glass of wine to the face.

She stood up straighter and turned to her security, "Well I'm not being reported as the only coward. I'll be fine. Leave me be."

Marco issued commands; our guards formed a net around the bar. I took a deep breath, knowing the whole thing was bravado. While I could not let Kale and Xander go into that building without me, I felt the futile urge to try and stop them all. However, knowing I'd already been branded a coward by my Father, I kept my mouth shut and allowed Marco to give his orders. Yet it was more than simply cowardice that knotted my stomach; the idea we were coming to kill people who simply wanted their country free of Lambent gnawed at me like not a lot could.

"They'd love to get their hands on Amelia, Tiv and I, so we'll all be masked. It means you don't have to spend all your time looking after us and they don't realise they have the opportunity to nab an expensive hostage," he explained. "They're enchanted. Bulletproof. Don't take them off."

My chest tightened uncomfortably at the notion as I wished I was in a bar getting drunk rather than standing there.

An hour later, we were pulling balaclavas over our faces and Marco left with the other half of the group. Silently, we slipped around the back of the building, our steps soundless against the cobblestones as we approached the basement door. The wrought-iron street lamps showed no indication of life allowing us to sneak right up to the building completely undetected. They had posted no guards on any of the doors. The wooden cellar doors were covered in a giant motif of the bar's name: The Cog and Cask.

Xander's voice, muffled by his balaclava, broke the quiet. "Marco does my flaming head in. Why are you now his second?"

"Because I want to go back to Lambent and apparently that makes me too cowardly to be in command," I answered bitterly.

"Why do you want to go back to Lambent? We've been training for years for this," Kale whispered.

"It's complicated," I said simply.

Amidst the tension, I sensed Amelia's scrutiny from a few paces away. Her posture was rigid, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Jakori picked the lock of the cellar doors, the click of the tumblers falling into place was whisper-soft as the doors swung open with a gentle push. It should not have been that easy. The rebels had no chance.

No sooner had we entered than chaos erupted. A rebel collided hard with me, desperation lending him strength as he tried to flee through our entry point. The force of the collision drove the breath from my lungs and pinned me hard against the rough-hewn stone wall. My vision swam briefly in a tangle of bruising bodies and frantic movement. I struggled to orient myself as my attacker attempted to wriggle free; his actions were frenzied, spiced with fear. Kale's response was immediate—a blur of motion that ended with the rebel crumpling to the ground. As my heartbeat thundered in my ears, I pressed a palm against the cool stone and pushed myself upright. My other hand fumbled for the blueprints tucked securely inside my pocket.

Before unravelling the paper, I paused, casting a quick glance over my shoulder to assess our immediate surroundings: dark corners and recessed alcoves that seemed empty. Content there were no further threats lurking in wait, I spread the blueprints against the wall under the meagre light seeping from the candle-lit lanterns.

The rest of our team held their positions while I traced paths and doorways with a gloved finger.

"Tala and Amelia, secure the detainees," I instructed firmly. "Make sure none get by you."

Amelia bristled at my words, her voice sharp as she protested, "I'm staying with you."

"An order," I replied as politely as I could muster.

Her back went straighter if possible; jaw clenched so tight I could see it tense under her skin despite the mask she wore. Resentment flared in her eyes before she spun on her heel, her movements taut like a coiled spring, marching off behind Tala.

"Bet that Alayna isn't looking too bad now?" Xander joked.

His jest left a sour taste in my mouth. I shot him a glare that would have wilted flowers.

"Head down the left corridor," I snapped at him more harshly than intended. "Jakori goes with you. Stun and restrain any rebels."

"You're such a child, Tiv!" Xander said playfully before jogging in the opposite direction.

The rest of the group fanned out, spreading throughout the building. Kale and I walked down a narrower storage corridor. Exposed brick wall lined with shelves was holding canned food and weapons. The ceiling consisted of an intricate network of pipes and ducts, the copper turned green from age. Memories of similar architecture and warm beer tugged at my mind's edge; I shoved them away and continued onward.

Kale and I moved cautiously down the dimly lit corridor, our footsteps echoing against the wooden walls. Suddenly, a man and woman burst into our path, their eyes wild with fear and fury. Before we could react, the woman launched herself at Kale with a glinting knife in her hand. He was quick to overpower her as I rushed towards them. Before I made it, I was abruptly thrown to the ground as two assailants grabbed me from behind. With swift reflexes, I wriggled out of their grasp and leapt to my feet, only to see the barrel of a gun pointing straight at my face. My heart raced as I dodged behind some nearby crates, feeling the impact of bullets shattering wood as they shot past me. The second man charged towards me and I swiftly sidestepped him, swung around and used my left arm to wrestle him into a chokehold. His comrade hesitated, his gun wavering uncertainly as I used his own ally as a shield. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as the man struggled against my grip, his fingers digging into my bullet wound with cruel intent. A guttural cry escaped me as I instinctively reached for the blade at my hip, dragging it across his throat with a fierce jerk. He collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood, releasing me from his grasp and allowing me a moment of reprieve from the pain in my thigh. But there was no time to rest as the remaining attacker sprinted away in terror, only to be caught by Kale's strong hand and slammed into the wall. Together, we subdued him and tied him up with rope as I tried to steady my shaking hands and stomach from the adrenaline rush.

"Are you alright?" Kale asked

"What of the other two?" My voice came hoarse, an attempt to deflect from the carnage.

I need a drink.

Kale's eyes flickered to where I pressed a hand against my bleeding thigh. "One's dead. Woman's down—tied up at the corridor's end. But you? Are you alright?"

My heart throbbed against my ribcage as I clutched my bleeding leg. I glanced down at the blood pooling around my wound, trying to determine how much was mine and how much was from our target's, and nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak. I noticed the tremor of Kale's hands as he finished restraining the defenceless man.

What the fuck are we doing here?

I hobbled with Kale down the dark corridor, not daring to look at the man I had just murdered, until we reached what I assumed was the main hallway to the lounge area of the derelict bar. There were several bodies scattered over the floor, whether they were dead or unconscious, I didn't know. I found Marco gagging a female who was screaming for help.

"We can help you!" Her scream was muffled as he shoved the gag into it.

When she wouldn't stop struggling he slapped her hard across the face. A strained noise escaped Tala and she looked to Kale who simply took her hand. As I lurched toward Marco, pulling him a few paces from the woman, my thigh screamed with each step. His hand lifted to strike again, but I interrupted the motion.

"Stop it," I hissed.

"That went well-" Marco's voice halted abruptly, his eyes widening at the mess of my leg. A terse curse escaped him. "What happened?"

"I was shot," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. Probably adrenaline. "What's the damage here?"

Marco snapped more profanities at me, not answering my question, before beckoning over Ashley and her med kit.

"The bullet grazed you; it didn't penetrate," Ashley muttered, stress making her voice hoarse.

Thank the bloody stars.

"And here?" I pressed once more, grimacing at the bite of Venenum cleansing the wound.

"Three slipped away, but two were women... trivial losses; they'll hardly do any damage," Marco brushed off too easily.

Tala's eyes narrowed at the moron.

"We have two more up there," Kale interjected, his jaw tight enough to carve stone as he inclined his head towards the corridor we'd abandoned.

"Good. Jakori," Marco's gaze flicked toward the hall without need for command; Jakori already turned on his heel to march away.

"What's next boss?" Xander cut in with a bite that might have been lost on Marco or perhaps deliberately disregarded.

Watching them, I wondered yet again what soured Xander's perception of Marco so deeply.

"Just let's figure out her knowledge about rival factions then we can clear out," I rasped, glancing toward the captive woman whose eyes mirrored a wild animal cornered by predators. "You heard Regan: they don't want to give their lives for this."

"We're not letting her live, you fool. The rebel scum will warn the other terrorists about us," he argued.

My lips contorted into a muted curse as frustration bubbled up inside me. "Find out what she knows about the other rebel groups then release her. Three of them already fled; the word will spread regardless."

"Leave us," Marco snapped.

"I'm staying put," I countered, my voice low and resolute.

I sensed a looming figure step up behind me, and I knew it was Xander. Marco shot us both a furious look but quickly realised he was outnumbered. We were here on my turf, with my friends with me. Father could preach about Marco's leadership all he wished, however it was his mistake for underestimating my strength in numbers.

"Fine," Marco conceded with a grunt.