Soundtrack: "Oblivion" by Grimes
[JUNE 17, THE WAREHOUSE] After the invasion at Watergate and the death of Wolfgang (bless his soul), the Weiss Kreuz is meeting at the Warehouse to discuss Saturday's events and recuperate.
☪ Franziska Bauer, Band of Thieves
“SASHA, TURN LEFT GODDAMN IT!" I yell, leaning out the window and grip the machine gun tight. This is for selling women and forcing them to do whatever you please. This is for acting inhuman.
"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I GOT IT," Sasha cries in response as she shifts the gearing on her Nissan, flying past the left turn at an ungodly speeds. So it was never a joke she drove like hell.
"Okay... 3, 2, 1, GO!" I countdown the seconds before I point the machine gun to the wheels of the procurers’ car and fire. They won’t be able to get anywhere with a hole in their tyres. “CLOSER!” I demand, so I can reach for their heads.
It’s disturbing how much a machine gun and some blood can make you feel better after a rather blue day.
Sasha slams on the gas pedal and nearly hits the bumper of the German-made sports car in front of her. "IS THIS GOOD?" She yells over the roar of the engine.
"YES!" I yell back, a mischievous smile across my face. I turn back to the window and lay my eyes on the car. I start firing desperately at the three men as the ammunition belt grows smaller with every quick shot. The adrenaline rush, my body hitting the raw and thick wind, each single shot.
"I think I've got them" I announce as I take the last shot at the driver's head.
"Is he dead yet?" Sasha asks, making me hesitate for a second.
"We can't leave this to chance” I replied once more, loading a new ammunition belt into the machine gun. I kissed the top of my HK21, peering further out the window, with practically half my body out the window.
"HOLD ON!" Sasha veered into the lane besides her own, which was risky business on the two-lane highway but it was desolate, except for us. Sasha accelerated until the two cars were side by side. I winked at Sasha for the good choice as I unloaded the ammunition belt on the three men’s heads.
"I think we are clear now"
"Perfect." The car detoured. Sasha smirked before slowing the speed of the car down.
I rubbed my hands together in excitement, "STEALING TIME!" I squealed excitedly as I loaded the machine gun once more, in prevention. "Park! Park! Park!"
Sasha laughed before parking on the side of the highway. "Go! Go forth and steal, my darling!"
I blew her a kiss and ran towards the procurers' car. Before peeking inside, I shot a few more times, though I was well aware these men were long gone. I kicked the man behind the steering wheel out of the car and took a few bags placed behind the driver's seat, as I took them, my hands got stained with blood.
Disgusting, filthy blood.
I opened the largest bag only to find five smaller bags in it and a paper with an inventory printed in it.
a. 100 condoms
b. 10 Schweizer Offiziersmesser (swiss army knives )
c. 5 Chauchat light machine gun
d. 2 kilograms of cocaine
e. 5 whips
I smiled at the thought of the guy in the sky wanting me to have fun with all this. I could get lots of money out of this, and an excuse to be more promiscuous. I took the three bags with me, the content of 2/3s still unknown, but I was not about to waste my time investigating bags full of nothings when I could get back into Sasha’s car and look for a new adventure.
Once I was done with my new blood-splashed belongings, I ran back towards Sasha's Skyline and smiled. "I guess I can sell these shitty guns in the black market" I shrugged and got back in. Sasha chuckled and smiled.
“That's always fun. You ready?" She ran a hand through her messy hair and cracked her knuckles.
"Yes please. Where are we headed?" I asked, innocently as I relaxed on the Nissan’s seat.
"Julien wants us to go to some warehouse, if I remember correctly..." Sasha started the car. "What time is it?"
"Did he?!" I ask, alarmed. "Uh, I don't have a watch nor a phone, so I guess we better hurry?" I say, hesitantly, not wanting to face Julien’s “you deserve to die” look. He may be one handsome son of a b- I am not about to admit such thing to myself at the moment when my life is in danger.
Franziska Bauer, get your priorities straight.
"Oh shit," Sasha mumbles, taking out her cellphone out of her pocket. For a second, I wished that one of the bags contained money in it."We were supposed to be there now. Right now."
"SPEED. He is going to kill us."
"We should be there in no time... hopefully..." She began driving once more before hurriedly speeding down the highway as we neared the edge of the city.
I look around, worried. The place is empty, except for a door. Please, stop failing so miserably. Please. I look around once more and I decide that door has to be it.
"Is there any hint of blood?" I ask, almost whispering. Sasha inspected my clothes and hair, to later shake her head.
“No, don’t think so. We're in the clear."
"Good" I reply, fixing the machine gun strap on my right shoulder and knocking the door. God save me. Sasha laughed, all of a sudden, arranging her hair.
"We sure know how to stage an entrance." she admits and I smile at the thought.
"Do you think that if I point the machine gun to the door when he opens it, I will get myself killed?" I joked, but actually considering it for a second.
She laughed in response. "That might just be a risk you'll have to take."
But no one opened it.
We stepped in, still giggling at the thought of me pointing Jules with a machinegun. When I see his face, the thought dies. Pale as a ghost, eyes as deep as the ocean, mind as dark as the night.
I clear my throat.
“So are we starting? I ask, feigning innocence. Oh, if only.
"What time is it?" Julien asks, sighing while watching the clock. I glance at Sasha’s phone, which almost flew out the window on our drive here.
"What time were you supposed to be here for?" he asks, looking right at me in the eye. Almost as if it was personal. I only stare back at him, shaking, but only on the inside. "When I tell you to be here for four o'clock, you be here for four o'clock, do you hear me? I'm not accepting this bullshit anymore. You either show up on time or not at all."
"Do you hear me?" Julien repeat, and turns to Sasha. "This stands for you too. Next time either of you are late, both of your asses are foot soldiers again."
"It won't happen again," I reply softly, "I promise."
Julien starts handing us different folders, all containing the same- I believe, and Toph throws it on the floor and steps on it. Which is odd. And stupid.
"So wait, a bunch of ex-cops are forming their own gang to get rid of gangs? I don't see how this is kosher." Sasha asks, a little disconcerted.
"Of course it isn't," Jo says, "They're cops."
"So what are we doing then? Taking them out?" I ask, trying to come up with a plan, although it would never be heard. "How many people do they even have?"
"Estimates are at about a hundred, give or take. It's a solid amount, and giving that they're operating right in the government's nose, this won't be too pretty. It's bound to be a bloodbath, which is why we aren't going in like we did with Wolfgang."
"Bless his soul." Toph mutters. I giggle, almost silently.
"If you have any questions, ask ketchup over here," Jules says, glaring. "Since he seems to be very knowledgable on the topic."
"Two things I am curious about," Jo speaks up. "How are these cops getting away with it? And why are we the ones that have to deal with them?"
For a second, I get lost on the conversation. Almost drifting off, but no one really seems to notice. I shake my head quickly and go back to listening.
"- and we're the ones dealing with it, because everyone else has enough bullshit to handle. Polisario and his group of idiots have a spy working in their ranks, apparently." Julien remarked.
"I fucking hate Polisario." Toph shakes his head. "He's such a damn lard."
"Is everyone a lard to you?" I ask him, finding it funny how he overuses that word.
"Not you, baby."
"Don't call me that."
Oh wow. I roll my eyes, ignoring his useless face. A face I’d gladly deform with my bare hands.
"You all can leave now," Julien announces, and as everyone leaves, I stand there, static. Biting my lip. It doesn’t matter how mysterious Julien thinks he is, he is not that hard to read. Sometimes I think it’s only me, but the others don’t seem to notice.
"Yes?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, quite annoyed.
"Are you looking forward to your dinner tonight?" I ask, innocently yet not so much.
What I’d give for him to speak to me. About his day or the weather. Even if it was about his girlfriend. Her hair. How beautiful she must be. About her palace-like house. Her parents, even if her father is one of the most abhorrent men on Earth. The silky sheets on her bed or the color of her room’s walls.
I once was the daughter of a politician. I once had silk sheets on my bed. And I must have been beautiful once. When I was happy.
I laugh a little. Nervous. Not because I arrived late to the meeting. Not because he is meeting his girlfriend's parents tonight. "Well, you are meeting the parents. That's quite scary."
"I'm not scared." he replies quickly, almost as if hiding something. I wonder. Oh, how I wonder.
"Of course not.” I crack a little smile, showing my rather embarrassing and too big of tooth gap. I’m not self-conscious enough for I wear bras for t-shirts but I am to bother on my teeth. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't know you took it that seriously."
"Of course I take it seriously," he says. "You need to take it seriously."
Of course he does. And I do too. But I just need to break off the chains, sometimes. The pain. The sadness. The loneliness. And when I do, I forget. I’m simply so full of a second-lasting joy that I forget.
He stands up, putting his folder away.
"What do you see in her?" I ask all of a sudden, not even aware I had asked it until Julien dares to look at me.
"What do you see-" I force myself to repeat it. My lips trembling, but enough for him to realize. It’s never enough. Ever.
It doesn’t matter how many times you shoot a man, it’s not enough to take the anger out of your body. It doesn’t matter how many times you tell someone you love them, it’s not enough to just tell them. It really isn’t enough.
And it’s sad.
"I heard you. Could you expand on that?" Julien goes back to arranging folders, ignoring my gaze.
"She's the Chancellor's daughter, Jules. She's rich and privileged and everything we hate. I don't get it."
Everything I once was.
"It's not yours to 'get'." he looks up, "I confided in you with the trust you wouldn't question my motives. I don't want to have been wrong."
"You aren't wrong... I just wanted to understand." I say, avoiding his eyes and blinking way too much. As if about to break in tears. But I don’t cry. Ever.
No, you don’t.