Give and Take (L 2.2)

I nod in affirmation with Kestrel's plan. "Do it." I turn to face my fighter. "What kind of mayhem did you hear them mention regarding their big ship? Anything I need to be worried about?"

None of the intelligence she gives me is good. My thoughts shift back to Helix. What was she doing at the Vault? Was...is she in the employ of those fat cats as a spy among the Sippians? Is she a double-agent of a sort? Or is she just a girl with incredible power caught in the middle of a power struggle?

The potential alliance of Rafters and Boaters makes sense, as much as I loathe the idea. Canary might have more knowledge of how likely that partnership is to forming. But Canary is currently ferrying Edmund...Syd to the Fountains. And those clean freaks might also be involved with powers in the Tower. Is it Lucian, as Syd suspects? Or perhaps Millions? So many threads are creating a knot in the center, but I sit in the darkness without the ability to unravel a single one of them.

"I don't know, Shrike." I admit. "But Helix will be able to shed light on the matter for us. It's why she is so important. She sees and hears things we don't have access to. She is truly blessed of the Gray Wing." I push myself back from the table and rise to my feet. "But we are not without our own power. Let's find Hedges and see what this would-be usurper knows."

The immediate emotion I feel at Shrike's warning is anger, but I'm not sure whether I'm angry at her or afraid that I've misinterpreted the Gray Wing entirely and could wind up looking like a misguided fool. I bite off the first reply that springs into my mind, clearing my throat instead. "I know you mean well, Shrike. I know you rely on your instinct and your gut is rarely wrong. But perhaps you could benefit from having a little more faith. If not in me, then in the Gray Wing, eh?" It's a reprieve and I try to make it as kindly as I can, but there's an edge to my voice. I hear it. I know she will too. "Let's focus on our finding our quarry instead of conjuring potentials."

Shrike offers no further doubts and you leave the Drowned Rat behind. Kestrel joins you as you mount up and ride out on the waters in search of Hedges and Pellet. Kes directs you to Raftlands where she heard the pair can be found tonight - listening to a Rafter band of some popularity.

I can hear the din as we near the revelry. The band that's playing for the Rafter's may well be playing their theme song. I hear an accordion's swang above the collective chorus of the crowd's drunken singing. I can hear a singer growling out lyrics that the crowd repeats at a louder volume. Must be a crowd--pleaser. Drumbeats at least keep a semblance of rhythm, but otherwise it's pure cacophony. It's not to my taste, but it's better than the noise at the Drowned Rat.

We slowly skim the waves as we near the floating trailer park and I sign over to Kestrel to take the point position as we begin our search.

This is Rafter territory, so you want to stand proud and be respectful. You aren't beloved here, but the Rafters won't attack you outright without provocation. They have a decent side business here serving swill and entertaining. Still, you spot a good few Sipps around these parts, those loyal to Benson and Hedges, so you might need to be sneaky and let Shrike draw their worried eyes while you hunt down your man.

What do you do?

There's no time to have a conversation with the women on how to approach and the dim lighting prevents me from giving easily-read hand signals. I simply have to trust that Shrike and Kestrel will rely on their instincts and realize that they'll be receiving all of the attention, while I slip down a free channel between the boats, trolling the water like a wraith.

You swim and slip your way ever forward, close enough until you can spot where Pellet is sitting on Hedges' lap and they're kissing and enjoying the music in a hidden spot on a junk. You're one boat away when you climb up from the water, slick as a snake, managing to sneak onto a large covered boat that looks like a tent on a raft. So intent you are on keeping them in your sights that you miss the shadow moving behind you...

Damnation. Ladoga. I should have known to look out for her. My approach had felt too easy. Had she seen me right away? Or did I take a wrong step that put me in her sights? Doesn't matter much now, does it. "Ladoga." I mutter flatly. She wanted to join the Talons a few years back. She certainly had the martial prowess and her deadeye is even better than Javan's. I would have accepted her in a heartbeat. But when I put forth her name to the Gray Wing, my goddess has declined her entrance. She told me that Ladoga wasn't committed to the tenets of faith. That she didn't care much for the spiritual aspect at all. She just wanted a job. wanted to be more than simply another Rafter thug, thought being a Talon would elevate her in the eyes of her peers. Ladoga was committed to Ladoga and frell any authority figure who tried to guide her along any path other than the one she charts for herself.

She did not take the rejection well.

"I'm not here to cause anguish for the Rafters. I'm here for the Sippian. You've heard the rumors of their new...enterprise, I gather?"

I turn slowly, my hands out to the sides and away from my weaponry. I face Ladoga, the barrel of her assault rifle now resting against my sternum. "That answer makes me think that you are either in league with the brothers or you are scared of crossing them." I cock an eyebrow up as I divulge my interpretation aloud to her. "Does that apply to all of your people, or just to you?"

"I know you're not stupid." I reply slowly, leaving it up to her to interpret whether I'm referring to her individually or the rafters as a whole. I don't have a whole lot of leverage. She's right that the Sipp brothers likely won't target the gangs first. They've bigger fish to fry. But eventually everything has a trickle-down effect. But what happens when they're through with their first target? What stops them from becoming the kings of the city?

"Which is why you're standing here talking to me instead of escorting me out. If someone were to capture Hedges. Hold him ransom. That person would have a lot of power. But they'd also be a target...unless that person allied with someone else - temporarily." I flex out my fingers rigidly, emphasizing the non-permanent timeframe. "Say, someone who has a reputation for working with elite clientele and targeting powerful bounties. Well, that person who worked through such an ally, might become very powerful indeed."

Ladoga drinks up the tempting offer. You can see it, she wants the taste of power. She lowers her gun and is about to take you up on it when you hear a commotion from the nearby boat followed by a splash and a women's scream. Ladoga is distracted enough to look over and see what's what. You could close on her, take her gun, and beat her down, probably.

What do you do?

Come on, take the deal! Come on Ladoga... I stand still, watching her ponder my suggestions. When she turns her head at the distraction of the screams and splashes, my hand falls to my side and slides a hatchet out of the metal rings holding it in place at my side. With the other hand, I move to seize the muzzle of her weapon, pushing it up and away from my body. I the bring up the hatchet to hold in place at her throat. "Sorry lass, I can't wait forever."

My head whips around like that of a hawk when I hear my fellow Talons engage in combat. Shrike's battle cry thrums my soul to action. I can feel the longing. The numbers are very much against us, but this is what we live for. I temper the surge. I've got my own decisions to make here. I look down at Ladoga, feeling a small pang of pity for her wasted potential. I could simply let her bleed out. Let her join the nameless chorus. I could also staunch the blood, but that would take time and leave her alive to point a finger back to me.

I pull out my second axe and place it in her hands, folding her fingers around the haft. I then murmur a prayer to the Gray Wing to receive her as an offering, to not turn her back from this lost soul. With my dominant hand, I bring the blade of the hatchet across her throat, sending her - I hope - into the Gray Wing's embrace.

I stand over her body, tracing the metal of my hatchet and scraping streams of Ladoga's lifeblood along its grain. Then I draw three lines on each of my cheeks, resembling crude wings. Shrike and Kestrel have created the diversion I need. I'm heading in a straight flight path toward my target, or at least where I last saw him.