Tell Them This When I Die

Property of Nyx Entertainment

Eris picks up Caledon at eleven at night in the Maserati. He harps on her on the way there. Why don't you drive a less obvious car? Why don't we do it during the day? Why don't we do this? Why don't we do that? She never knew Caledon had such awful anxiety.

She's quiet as she drives. She pulls up to the abandoned house just before midnight.

"You're kidding," Caledon says. "It's just some abandoned house?"

Eris pulls into the side street behind the building. She shows Caledon a key. "The basement," she says. "That's where it is."

"Fuck," Caledon says. He doesn't swear, but this justifies it.

Eris hands him the spare key. He's harmless. It's just Caledon. Caledon and his wife. "You can have that. If I find you taking from here, I'll have your wife run over."

Caledon nods. Takes the key. Too good to be true. Way too good to be true. He pockets the key, lets Eris drive him back to his house. He calls Brises immediately. He was supposed to call Leonardo first, but Caledon doesn't see why it should make a difference. Screw Leonardo. He'll just skip that step.

"The abandoned house on fourth," Caledon tells Brises. "Across from that old police station. I've got a key."

Brises gets to work. He doesn't like that he's the one taking the biggest risk here, but he knows it'll work. They've got the keys. They've got everything. Eris' chance to stop this has been destroyed.

Adam is on his fourth night back when Clips comes in to tell him to get ready. Dealing on Sifford, anonymous tip, related to Diakos. We've got to go.

Who is tipping off dealings? Adam is thinking. It's not Eris. He hasn't seen her since he left Nyx that morning.

Clips is in one car, Adam in another. They stakeout behind a bar parking lot in Clips' car. Adam is not the head anymore, but for some reason Clips forced him along.

Clips sips from a drink he bought, eyes scanning. Adam leans back in his chair.

"Rumours are true, aren't they?" Clips asks.

Adam glances at him. They're the same rank, but Clips is ahead of him in this car.

"What rumours?" Adam asks, even though he knows what they are.

"You slept with her." Clips takes another sip of his drink.

Adam raises his brows. He feels like being an asshole for tonight. Clips is arrogant, harsh, rude. Adam can play that game.

"Slept with a lot of women," Adam replies.

Clips laughs, but it's grating. He keeps scanning the lot. The car lights are dead, everything is dark.

"You should've been fired," he says.

Adam taps his finger against the center console. He shrugs.

"Can't trust you," Clips says. He has that marine face, the one with scars and leathery skin. He never even went on tour. He never even saw action. Adam fired a gun in his career more times than Clips did in the army.

Adam looks out at the parking lot. There's a spotlight from the bar lighting up a man near the doors. Another man gets out of his car and goes over to him.

"A bit conventional, don't you think?" Adam says. It looks like a setup to him. That spotlight, the tip.

"Criminals are idiots," Clips says, leaning forward.

Criminals are not idiots. Especially not the ones Adam knows. He feels something brewing in his bones. Knows there is more to this than he's seeing.

Clips opens the door, and his drink falls out onto the concrete. It splashes. The ice goes sprawling across the ground. It's loud. Neither of the men across the lot look up.