by Gavin Magson
“My friends are always asking me why I don't get out of this business before it kills me; have you ever considered it? Perhaps take the money you earn here and set up your own service, buy stakes in a guesthouse, a tavern, or perhaps a taxi hover.” said Ajax.
“Your friends have a point, but it is one I’ve heard numerous times. I could have changed profession at several stages of my life, if I had really wanted to. I've amassed a small fortune in my years of service, blown it all on guns, drink and more whores than you could count. Nothing else appeals to me, so why change now? What about you, why are you here?”
Ajax finished his drink in one swig and placed it on the floor before Miles could offer him another refill. He stood up, grabbed his rifle, and slung it over his back, then made for the door.
“Thanks for the drink, damn stuff has a nice kick to it. I am going to get some rest ahead of tomorrow.” he opened the door, pausing to turn back to a puzzled Miles. “I am here because this profession is what I enjoy the most in life; nothing feels better than having the power of life and death in your hands.”
Ajax turned away before he could see Miles' reaction of a purely sinister grin at the revelation that they shared the same ideology. Ajax stepped out into the corridor and shut the door behind him without a second glance. He climbed the remaining stairs to his attic room in silence, all the while mulling over his parting words to Miles in his mind. Ajax absent-mindedly unlocked his bedrooms door, closed it behind himself and settled down on a pile of ammunition crates that he had arranged as a makeshift stool.
His fingers did all the work, stripping down the two weapons, cleaning them once more and reassembling whilst his mind wandered. Not for the first time Ajax considered what his true feelings towards bloodshed were. He had felt no other rush like that of being in combat, the controlled fear for his life matched against the adrenaline that coursed through him, fuelling him to fight harder and beat his opponent into submission. Yet did he also enjoy extinguishing life, or was it merely the exhilaration from combat that he yearned for? Was he a man, or a monster? Ajax pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on his rifle.
With his tasks taken care of Ajax stowed away his weapons and ammunition, then stripped off his sodden clothes and hung them from the crates. He climbed under the thin covers of his bed and stretched out his tall frame until a semblance of comfort could be found.
He remembered his message from Aiko and reached over to where his tablet lay among his personal belongings. When he checked the time Ajax was surprised to find more than three hours had passed since the brief fire fight and introduction to Miles.
You weren't wrong, hit the ground running and it did not take me long to find targets. Made a friend, name is Miles, know anything about him? I'll be off to sleep soon – A
It bothered Ajax that he had not yet received a reply from Ilya, it hammered home the loss Henry had forced upon him. He had messaged her about accepting the job two days ago and nothing had come through, not even a mention to one of the crew. Ajax suspected that it was probably her new hectic schedule occupying all her time and she had simply forgotten to reply. At least that was what he hoped, rather than believing that she simply did not value his friendship now that there was another man in her life. The tablet vibrated, brief hope flared up that it would be a message from Ilya; instead it was Aiko.
Reynold Miles, his records show a lot of experience – old age says a lot for someone in his profession. Came highly recommended, loyal to a fault. Get a good night’s sleep, you'll need it for tomorrow - Aiko
Ajax turned off the tablet and laid back on his half rotten mattress. What Aiko had said did make sense to him, someone Miles' age who had worked as a mercenary for this long must know his stuff, or have some serious luck on his side. It was contradictory, the man seemed so careless when they left the vantage point earlier. Ajax decided he would have to study the man's actions, when possible, to try and gleam some helpful tips and tricks of the trade.
With effort he let the thought die in his mind, the life expectancy of a mercenary was not of any concern to him right now. He laid back down once more, grunted as a spring jabbed him in the small of his back, and moved until comfort, of a sort, could be found again. The stiff drinks helped and he drifted off to sleep.
The rain had only allowed them a brief reprieve, it had not let up in three days and Ajax was sure it had worsened just to spite the squad’s actions. On the third day Miles lead them deep into the sector, which had taken some convincing for Jerry, who seemed very nervous when his leader first talked of going so far into enemy territory.
It had taken most of the morning to find the warehouse Miles was aiming for, not just due to the distance but the amount of detours they had taken to avoid roving gangs. Ajax did not know where he had received the tip off from but the man seemed adamant that there was something for them in the area. The amount of fire-power they had brought along between them warranted a serious gun battle, which was long overdue after two days of trying to wait out the weather.
The pause from duty had given Ajax time to acquaint himself with Rex and Jerry, who had spent most of the first day to themselves whilst Ajax exchanged small talk with the sisters. The two men weren’t big talkers, it had taken all of his patience to persevere in trying to eek conversation out of them, but they did finally explain that they had known each other since childhood and had not been separated since. By his guess childhood was at least twenty years ago, perhaps more, judging from their appearance.
They had started out as enforcers in the fighting pits, working for a man Ajax had never heard mention of before. They had forgone participating in the bouts, instead favouring a more defensive role, which explained their overly muscular physiques. Over time word had spread about their proficiency at man management and, slowly, the duo had progressed into a more violent career path with better financial benefits.
Rex was the taller of the two, the same height as Ajax but wider still at the shoulders. He kept his hair short with the exception of his Yaartz, a tail of black hair that was wound tight and reached to the base of his neck. The tattoos extended to at least his torso, from what Ajax had seen when passing on his way to the showers, and were also a tradition carried over from his ancestors. He did not offer up any explanation on what they signified and Ajax had left it at that.
Jerry was a head shorter than both men, bald from a young age, and made up for his lack of height by packing on the muscle. Sometime in his life Jerry had either been in a serious accident or taken a horrific beating, whichever was the case Ajax was loath to ask, as the right side of his face was mangled and covered in scars. Ajax had not noticed at first that Jerry’s right eye was entirely blue with a golden pupil, an augment that allowed the man to magnify his vision to see over a considerable distance; unfortunately not always useful in the cramped slums. What remained of his right ear was flat against his skull, constantly pink and raw in appearance.
The men, after giving him vague details of their lives, had asked about his own. Ajax stuck to the cover story about his amnesia, which they appeared to accept and did not push him for more information. When he mentioned being taken in by Duke the expression on Jerry’s face changed, as if he recognised the name, yet he had not enquired about it. Ajax made small talk with the men after that to pass the time, since neither Katherine nor Angelica seemed inclined to talk anymore. Thankfully it was not long before Miles appeared to say that they were heading out.
A few hours after departure they reached the building, though Miles was uncertain it was the correct target since it had long since been cared for. The dilapidated structure was located deep within a district filled with warehouses and factories that, from the strong aroma, produced a variety of chemically treated goods. Despite the street war some of the factories remained operational, the buildings were locked down to avoid the battles and protected by guards who leered out into the streets as the mercenaries passed by.
The exterior of this particu
lar building blended in well with its surroundings, five storeys in height with graffiti scrawled ten feet tall and every window Ajax could see broken. Glass, ground down to small fragments, littered the buildings perimeter as the squad skirted around to try and locate an entrance. He was surprised that its exterior appeared to have avoided being involved in the war, he could see no tell-tale bullet holes.
They found a lower wall near the warehouse's rear, which the men swiftly scaled. Rex and Jerry gave the other two a leg up before being pulled over by Ajax and Miles, all with barely a sound made. Behind the building they found open doors, or lack of doors to be more precise. Waste had been dumped everywhere, tossed out into the walled enclosure they were now within. The men forged a route that skirted the decaying and foul debris, careful to avoid stepping on anything that might shatter or snap and alert others of their presence. When they closed on the gaping doorway the men silently split into pairs and entered cautiously.
Inside was no improvement on the exterior, the smell was a full on assault to their senses and Rex instantly started to retch, his the only noise in the whole warehouse. Miles signalled for silence and Rex managed to suppress his gag reflex, Ajax could still see the man's shoulders heaving in front of him. The men moved forwards, their guns raised as the muzzles moved from floor to corner to wall in order to sweep the empty, open room. On either side of the ground floor was a staircase that lead up into the high ceiling and floors beyond. They headed for the nearest staircase with guns raised, avoiding animal waste that littered their path and left it slick underfoot.
One at a time they climbed the stairs, Ajax went on point with his combination of handgun and knife; the men behind him could not even hear Ajax breathe. As he reached the second storey he began sweeping the corridor, he was greeted by several closed doorways in both directions and more waste. Jerry joined him and they forked left, with Miles and Rex taking the right.
Each door they came to the men would soundlessly move into position, safeties off, ready to kill. Ajax entered first, positioned nearest to the hinges and opening the door so that he had a wide field of view. He would sweep the room with Jerry on his shoulder, scanning opposite sides of the rooms; every room came up empty. Most were filled with refuse and rotting vermin carcases, but no signs of recent activity or drugs paraphernalia.
Their search continued for several minutes, the only sound Ajax could hear was the man's breathing inches behind his ear. Jerry was breathing hard, nerves rather than lack of endurance had him on edge.
It was Ajax who first noticed the glass pipes, most of them shattered, around the charcoal remains of an old fire in the penultimate room. He passed one over to Jerry as he stepped back to get a better overview of the room. Only then did he realise that the waste was not haphazardly discarded, instead it was piled into rough beds, even a few lice riddled blankets were disguised amongst the mess.
“People have been living here, and recently. Druggies by the looks of things, laying in their own filth getting high.” whispered Jerry as they left the room.
The rooms all had an identical layout, narrow but stretched across to the other side of the warehouse. Each room had a second door on the other side opposite the one they entered through, they too had all been closed. The last room turned out just as empty as the first and the pair made their way back to the stairwell. Miles and Rex came into sight soon after, both at a crouch to avoid the windows that lined the external wall of the corridor.
“We found a body in the last room, probably some junkie who overdosed and his friends left him there to die. Nothing of significance in what was left of his clothes to suggest otherwise. What did you find?” asked Miles, his voice kept barely above audible.
“Nothing major. Evidence that people have lived here recently and some glass tubes they probably used to deliver the drugs. No one has lived there for a couple of weeks I would say.” replied Ajax.
“We are here now, might as well check the rest of the building; there is every chance we could find something, or someone, of worth. Same formation, move up lads.”
Ajax did as he was told and took point once more. He climbed cautiously up yet more stairs to move onto the third storey with Jerry in tow. Again they cleared the rooms and again there was evidence of drug use but no people, not even more dead bodies. Once that floor had been searched the men began to visibly relax, confident that they were alone in the building.
Ajax was half way up the last flight of stairs when he stopped dead in his tracks. Jerry was barely half a step behind him and almost bowled Ajax over as he collided with the stationary figure. When they stopped the squad could hear the faint voices above that had caused Ajax to pause his ascent.
None of the words could be distinguished from this distance, only that they were being spoken. Different voices were identifiable and Ajax figured that at least three men were waiting above, with the possibility of more. He could only assume from the lack of whispers that they were not aware of the mercenaries that had been climbing ever closer to them.
Ajax turned to look at Miles for direction and caught the man studying the map of his tablet. When Miles looked back up he gave a short nod and signalled to move on. Ajax took the stairs with more caution, his footfalls made no echo on the rough concrete steps and his gun was half raised as he turned the tight corner onto the second set of stairs. The voices became slightly louder as he neared their owners, yet still there was no one in sight.
As Ajax reached the top step he pressed his back against the right wall and Rex mirrored him on the left. They could see down the corridor in both directions; neither saw sight of the sounds source. Ajax could tell the noises were coming from down the corridor he was studying, just not which room they were within.
“Move down the corridor, we have to locate these guys. If you can try to keep at least one alive.” whispered Miles.
Ajax moved down the corridor at a crouch, slowly and carefully he checked each doorway, silently pushing open the doors and sweeping the rooms with Jerry once more. None of the rooms had any windows, only artificial lights, most of which had either been damaged or were now missing. He was painfully aware that the outside windows silhouetted him as he passed the doorways, adrenaline coursed through his body leaving him on edge.
Each footfall was calculated long before they came to an obstacle, both conscious of anything that could cause the men they hunted to be alerted. The duo continued along the corridor, checking each room as they went, until they approached the last room. As he neared Ajax could see that the final room had its door ajar, beyond it faint voices could be heard; they had found their target.
He stopped and turned back to face the squad. Ajax saw Miles still stood outside the last room they had checked, handgun half raised to sweep the room himself.
“Me and Rex will move around to the other side, I'll send a message through to your tablet when we are in position. You and Jerry enter first, make sure not to catch us in the crossfire; clean sweep and we'll be through them in seconds. Aim to disarm if there is a clean shot, otherwise kill on sight. We will enter at the first gunshot.”
Miles was gone before Ajax had time to question the plan, Rex following him through the door and out of sight. Jerry had overheard Miles and followed Ajax's lead, cautiously creeping back along the corridor.
Ajax stopped just before the doorway as soon as he could peer through the narrow gap. The voices beyond were clear and now Ajax could hear the heated debate. The loudest voice came from behind the wall he rested against, whilst the man answering him was further away, perhaps on the same side of the room. Their topic of debate consisted of drugs, which came as little surprise to him, and the rising cost the war had brought on their habits. Two men were accusing a third of stealing their share; for a brief moment Ajax thought they would do his job for him and kill each other.
He checked his rifles magazine one last time, toggled it into full automatic and waited for the message. He made a mental note to have words with Jerry after
this was over, it was a miracle no one except Ajax could hear his heavy breathing. The man was going to get someone killed at this rate.
Jerry's weapon of choice was a terrifying shotgun that could easily be mistaken for a harbinger of death. Unlike the comparatively slim pump action Angelica wielded this had a bulky cylindrical magazine hanging from the body that held eighteen rounds and could empty in seconds. If it wasn't such a big, inaccurate weapon that had less stealth about it than ten of his explosive rounds Ajax would envy the monstrosity. Instead he was more concerned about being caught in its path and no one finding his remains. He had yet to see the man use it, and feared for when he would have to witness the gory aftermath.
A faint vibration came through his jacket which signalled that the other men were in position. He looked Jerry in the eye, who nodded his near silent reply. Ajax moved over to the other side of the doorway in one fluid movement. Luck must have been on his side, three men who had remained silent were visible through the gap, and none were facing the corridor as he moved over.
A swift kick to the door, a flash of gunfire followed by the roar of his gun saw two men mowed down before the others could react. Jerry had moved around the doorframe and stood above Ajax pumping shells at the men, each carrying a gun on their person. His instrument mixed with the weapons of Miles and Jerry as they joined the fight, the music a haunting cacophony of dread. The three remaining men tried to dive behind several upturned tables to escape the terror; they could not avoid the hail of bullets.
The noise ceased as fast as it started, the last shell tinkled as it bounced along the floor and the men breathed a collective sigh of relief. Miles' tip off had come through for him; inside the room, piled high against a wall, were reels of tablets in thin capsules. Ajax had seen them before, usually in single serving form, exchanging hands in the underground arenas and swiftly consumed. He had not bothered asking Aiko about them, it was glaringly obvious by the secretive body language of those involved in the exchange that it was nothing legal they were dealing with.