Adrian finally arrived at the lonely house nestled on the fringes of a dilapidated street in the Southern slums. This house, once the site of his imprisonment and tribunal, loomed before him with its weathered facade. It stood as a somber reminder of the cruel twists of fate, for it could very well have marked the terminus of his journey through life. Yet, destiny had intervened, sparing him for some higher purpose that remained shrouded in uncertainty. As he gazed upon the rough-hewn features of the old structure, Adrian couldn't help but wonder why he had been granted this unexpected reprieve. What role did fate intend for him to play?
The lengthy trek to the safehouse had provided ample time for reflection, allowing Adrian's thoughts to dance between various scenarios concerning the mysterious train. However, his mind incessantly circled back to Julian. During the journey, Adrian had attempted to contact Julian, dialing his home and the precinct, but the ominous silence on the other end of the telephone line only deepened his concerns. Adrian couldn't help but blame himself for dispatching Julian alone to arrange a meeting between themselves and Niko, fully aware of the dangers that lurked within Cliffnail's shadowy ranks. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, but at this juncture, there was little recourse. All he could do was hope for Julian's safety and trust that, once he resolved the pressing train predicament, he could locate and extend a helping hand to his young partner.
Adrian grappled with questions about his priorities and whether he was treading the right path. Uncertainty hung heavy in the air. Like the tranquil flow of the Valerion and Tamal rivers, he had to navigate the treacherous currents of Snigograd with a silent resolve, seeking answers amidst the city's unforgiving shadows.
Adrian approached the door with the peephole and rapped loudly a few times. The small opening slid open, and two discerning eyes scrutinized him. After what felt like an eternity of assessment, the door creaked open, granting Adrian entry.
Following the Alderian who had allowed him in, Adrian descended the familiar, creaking wooden stairs into the basement—the very same basement where he had once faced the harrowing prospect of his fate. Inside the room, as if awaiting his return, stood Johan, Red, and Artemia, engrossed in a discussion of their own. Johan, upon noticing Adrian's presence, offered a faint smile and remarked, "I guess he didn't bring a squad of law dogs like you hinted at, Red."
Red shot a dubious look at Johan, then turned his skeptical gaze on Adrian, crossing his arms and barely whispering through clenched teeth, "Not yet."
"Artemia informed me that you met with Xavier," Johan sighed. "Not exactly a paragon of reliability."
Adrian, nonchalantly lighting a cigarette, retorted, "I believe he's a valuable source of information, even if your history with him is less than stellar. That's precisely my point."
Red, without looking at Adrian, inquired, "Explain."
Adrian continued, "Artemia mentioned that because of Xavier, some of your comrades have fallen. I don't delve into the details or have much interest in your past quarrels. But if his information led to suffering on your side, it stands to reason that he provided trustworthy intel, don't you think?" He surveyed the room's occupants intently.
Johan nodded slightly and conceded, "Fair point." He gestured for Adrian to take a seat on the same chair where Adrian had once been judged by their makeshift tribunal. "But, as they say, 'trust but verify,' right?"
Adrian, having removed his overcoat and hat but choosing not to sit, replied, "Indeed. However, before I divulge my findings, I need assurance that this settles Xavier's debt to your organization. Along with the information, he extends his sincere condolences for the losses your comrades suffered."
Red growled in response, spinning around, while Artemia maintained a guarded posture with her arms crossed.
Johan regarded Adrian with an unwavering demeanor. "Very well," he agreed, his voice steady. "But he must also sure that nothing like this happens again."
"You can't be serious, Johan!" Red erupted, his voice laden with anger. "What's come over you lately? First, you spare this lawdog," he pointed accusingly at Adrian, "and now you're sparing someone directly responsible for the deaths of our comrades?" He strode up to Johan, his frustration evident. "My brother lost his leg and the ability to walk while trying to track down that rat. And all on your orders, might I remind you!"
Johan's gaze remained icily fixed on Red's, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of menace. "If you have any grievances with me, we can convene the council and address them."
Red stepped back from Johan, his anger still smoldering, and spat on the ground beside him, but he refrained from uttering another word. Artemia's eyes followed Red, her expression distant and unreadable.
"Now, let's hear what you've discovered," Johan urged, a trace of impatience in his voice.
Adrian cleared his throat a few times before beginning, "As Artemia may have briefed you, based on the information relayed by Xavier, whether it's the Royal Department, the Police, the government, or perhaps even the Emperor himself—we're not entirely sure of the source—they intend to transport all the prisoners they've amassed since the Scarlet Uprising far away, possibly to the mines in the far east, using trains. This explains why they've been relocating numerous train wagons from all over the city to Rigs Station."
Johan waved him off dismissively. "We know all that."
Adrian nodded, determined to relay every detail. "I went to Rigs Train Station, where all these wagons were supposedly sent, and the information proved correct."
Artemia interjected, her curiosity piqued. "So? How do we know these wagons are intended for prisoners?"
"That was my question too," Adrian replied, locking eyes with Artemia. "So I decided to investigate further. I managed to confirm that these wagons, originally meant for cattle, were being repurposed to transport humans."
Johan remained skeptical, his arms folded in a posture of doubt. "Still doesn't prove anything."
"True," Adrian conceded, "I thought the same initially. Any mining company could opt to save expenses and use these old cattle wagons. But..." Adrian emphasized the crucial detail, "I spoke with some of the workers who were assigned to these trains."
Red couldn't help but smirk. "They spotted you? Excellent detective work," he quipped, dripping with irony.
Adrian continued, undeterred. "They were just a group of freelance woodworkers. They mentioned they were being paid a hefty sum—hundred and fifty Crowns per day in total—for their labor. And there are only four of them. They're on track to finish the job within a week."
"Hundred and fifty Crowns per day," Artemia mused, her expression pensive. "No company would pay such a sum, especially for just four workers. It'd be more cost-effective and efficient to hire factory labor."
Adrian chimed in, offering his perspective. "The government wouldn't employ factory workers to refurbish a train destined to carry their comrades, perhaps even family members, to an unknown fate, all under the orders of a regime they despise."
Artemia cast an approving smile in Adrian's direction. "You're evolving into quite the revolutionary, Adrian."
"Enough of this nonsense," Red retorted from his corner, addressing Artemia first and then turning to Johan. "Even if we entertain this as the truth, are we seriously considering putting our reputation with Central Command on the line based on hearsay?"
Johan remained composed, his voice steady. "In revolutions, we must take risks, Red. Without risks, there are no revolutions."
Red smirked, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And how many revolutions have you been a part of, Terenkin?"
Johan rose to his feet, maintaining his composure. "As I've said, if my leadership doesn't align with your vision, we can bring it before the council. If the decision is in your favor, we'll communicate this information to Central Command and let them choose our leader for this cell." He then shifted his gaze to Artemia and Adrian. "In the meantime, I'll reach out to Comrade Holdrin for assistance." Finally, he directed his attention squarely at Adrian. "Any word on Tally or those letters?"
Adrian shook his head, his expression grim. "Not as of yet."
"Very well, this might indeed take precedence. You're all free to leave; I'll summon you if necessary," Johan announced, moving toward the black telephone situated at the back of the room.
Adrian gathered his belongings from the chair and exited the room, ascending the stairs. Artemia followed closely behind, and as they made their way out, Adrian couldn't help but express his concern. "Julian still isn't answering any calls, be it at home or the office," he admitted, his tone laden with worry.
Artemia teased him with a playful smile. "You sound like a concerned father. Do you think he's in trouble with Cliffnail?" she inquired.
Adrian considered the possibilities. "It's possible. It's too early to say, but Julian's a smart kid. I have faith he'll manage to extricate himself."
"Unless he's betrayed you again," Artemia quipped, her smile sly.
Adrian was firm in his response. "He didn't betray me."
"That's not what you were saying a few days ago," Artemia teased, poking Adrian's ribs playfully.
He swatted her finger away and pressed for more information. "So, who is this 'Comrade Holdrin'?"
Artemia halted in her tracks and explained, "He's the second-in-command after Jeremy Alder himself."
"Really?" Adrian mused. "He must be keeping a low profile if this is the first time I'm hearing about him."
Artemia smirked and elaborated, "If Jeremy is the head, then Westley Holdrin is the muscle."
Adrian raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is he particularly strong? Can he take on five operatives at once?"
Artemia chuckled and then proceeded ahead of the astonished Adrian. "He's the leader of the 'Black Hammer Woodcutters Society,' and believe me, they do much more than just woodcutting."93Please respect copyright.PENANAUwhmzO9ZIq
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