Final Call for Mercy

28

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, with your fiancé?"

Elijah rolled his eyes at Nicolas as we trudged through the corridors of the main warehouse. "Getting engaged doesn't mean I get exempt from work."

Nicolas looked at me, "you are definitely giving me time off when I get engaged."

I raised my eyebrows at him, "depends on who you get engaged to."

He winked. "It might be you if you behave."

Elijah scoffed, turning his attention to me. "Bisset called yesterday. He was not happy about the amount of deaths during the attack. Well, he and others. It was twenty seven of Bisset's men that died, along with five Albanians, ten Romanians, twelve Greeks and three Norwegians."

"Next time he or any of them complain, remind them that they're lucky to even have survivors. Where's Mateo? I didn't see him anymore after the party. Did he come to the villa at all yesterday?"

"No," Nicolas responded, making us stop to get water from dispenser. I took the cup he offered as he explained. "Right after we all left, he went straight back to Blue Point. As far as I know, he's there awaiting for Malina to say if the people they got revealed any information. He said that he'd work on the Quispe attack too. He and Vee are there actually, going over the pattern to pinpoint exactly when it'll be."

"How do you know this?" I asked him.

"Because they called to ask my opinion on when they'd attack."

"And what did you say?"

He finished the water from the cup and spoke as he refilled it, "my best guess is tomorrow. It's been a day since the France attack. It's already pushing into the next week. By now, they must have realized that we caught on to their patterns. I doubt they'll change them, like I said, their god complex won't let them consider it. Tomorrow seems fitting. Not too far apart that they risk looking affected, but enough that they can regroup. They'll try to make it look like our counter-attack was no more than dust on their jackets."

"Like we do," I said more to myself. 

Surprisingly, Nick agreed. "And what do we do to reassert our dominance?"

I frowned at him, trying to come up with an answer. To do that I've killed enemies, blown up a building, toyed with the cops and so much more. What could they possibly—

"We hit harder," I answered as it came to me. "We send a message and most of the time, it's written in blood."

"Our message was just sent. I told Mateo that'd they'll probably send one right back with Quispe. If their intention with him was trying to get his half of South America to join them, they'll do everything to show Quispe's people we are not suitable to protect them. This fight will be bloodier than France's."

Some of our own people will die. I will send them to fight knowing that some won't come back. And I have to do it, because otherwise the Nice Circle Fuckers get half of South America or more depending on how loyal Martin's half is, and then it'll be whoever I can threaten into fighting against an army of organizations that will fight believing that they'll die otherwise.

They'll die either way. And they'll fight either way. I'll do anything to make sure their blood spills for me or because of me.

I turned to Elijah, "let everyone know that Mateo's orders are to be followed. However many men he decides to take is the amount that go. Let him know that he has to send me a report of those numbers before he goes."

As he turned around to deliver the news, the memories flew to my mind and my hand shot out to stop him. Elijah looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Before his face could finish contorting into worry, I said, "if he asks you to go, tell him I need you here."