Dirty Work: Volume 1

Siala: Part 2 - 7

Walking through the ruins of Dirty Work was a haunting, solemn experience. I kicked rubble away with my boots, dust clouds threatening to rise up and choke me. I saw bloodstains under the splintered remains of tables, curtains lying ripped down and draped over great blocks of broken walls like shrouds. The police had come and carried out the parts of the two civilian deaths that had occurred there, but I could still feel them there, as if they were watching me from wherever it is one moves onto, checking to see if I was paying my due respects.

I was the only on here in the husk. It wasn't as badly done in as it could have been, and there were some tables that were lying on their side but still fairly intact, and the stages were almost untouched. Even with some of these survivors it chilled me. If those that had perished here were looking on me, they would have seen the hairs on the back of my neck rise in memory.

The place was mostly cordoned off, but I was allowed in to look around. Markro had taken Siala, Harly and Rena to somewhere obscure to hide out/live until everything was ok, and Ashrore and Hidra were still in the Region 15 hospital, so it was just me in there.

I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned and saw the boss, Grasslea, coming in through the entrance. His Kakr guards stood outside with the police officers, guns at the ready. I looked at the boss' face and, though I wouldn't have ever dared say it at the time, I thought I saw that his eyes had been crying.

'They had a damn good go at it,' the boss said. He wandered over and picked up one of the salvageable tables, standing it back up again. 'Drink?'

'I think, sir, that one is needed right now.'

The boss walked behind the broken bar, empty XF Beta capsules lying on the surface, and grabbed two glasses from behind. He took a bottle of Gyro Spirits and filled two glasses. He handed one over, hands perfectly still.

'Thank you, sir,' I said. The Gyro warmed my insides, but it tasted superficial.

'We took them down eventually, got them rounded up,' the boss said, 'but it, well, you can see the result.'

I nodded. 'If they had seriously come to take you down, you'd be dead, I think, sir.'

'This was a demoraliser. They haven't started their real war here yet.'

'No, they took that onto the highway,' I said.

The boss swilled his drink, then downed it in one and passed the bottle to me. I hadn't gotten even halfway through my glass yet.

Grasslea wandered through the ravaged remains of his club. 'This was my life,' he said. 'This was a small empire that I built up. People loved it here. Even those on the stages, they knew that it wasn't a good job, but we did what we could for them. Anyone that came here came for a good time, and to know that it was a community, a family. And then they came and did this to it.'

He swept his hand across the devastation. He was a king walking through the graveyard of his castle after a siege. I admit, it broke my heart a little.

'At least now you can branch out,' I said, trying to lighten the mood as best I could. 'The guys next door closed down a few weeks ago, so you can finally knock down into there and get that non-human floor you always wanted. Dirty Work, Volume II, bigger, better and sleazier than ever.'

'If I do decide to keep it going,' the boss said.

His words caught me. It was the first time I had ever heard any hint of dismay from the boss, the man who was usually on top of every trick, every secret, and the quiet mastermind in the office at the back.

'If you don't mind my asking, sir,' I said, finishing my drink and moving away from the bar, 'they're just after that package you put me in charge of ages ago, correct? The one that's now,' I glanced around, 'in a secure location.'

The boss turned to me. 'Well, initially. I may have done some more, um, shall we say, digging, since then? I'm sure they'd still like it back, but I do what I can to hamper their plans any way I can, even if they don't involve me. I've got quite a few contacts, you see.'

I did see. 'In which case,' I said, 'I think the club needs to come back. Rise up from the ashes, bigger and better than ever. And if operations do continue...'

'Oh, I intend to hurt them, alright,' the boss chimed in.

'...if the operations do continue, I think they might need to be, even more underground than before. Very in-the-dark. We can't have this happening again.'

The boss locked gazes with me. 'You still want to work here, then?'

I considered his question. Technically I had no place to work anymore, not until Dirty Work was built back up again. I was, temporarily, jobless. But that wasn't to say that I was completely without loyalty. This was a man that trusted me, had taken me in out of the rain and the grime, and given me a gun and told me to defend the keep. And like a good soldier I had done, and like a good man I had realised that I was not simply following orders; I was doing a friend a favour.

'Without a second thought.'

The boss nodded. 'Then go home. I'll keep up your pay, double if I can manage it whilst still doing this place back up. Keep your head down, your trigger-finger twitching, and be ready to counter-attack when I need you.'

I bowed to him, and to my surprise, he bowed back.

Stood there in the darkened, wrecked coffin of Dirty Work, I was momentarily an equal to the boss. It is a moment I haven't forgotten, even a week later, and I don't think I ever will.

I'm finishing this off now, this collection of incidents, in my apartment, paid for by the boss, with capsules loaded and guns within easy reach of the bedside. Ready and waiting. However, beforehand, I've got some time to wait, and a date with the girl from the art gallery. And so until the next time we meet, if indeed we do, good luck to you all, and may your trigger-finger stay twitching.

END OF SIALA: PART 2

END OF DIRTY WORK: VOLUME 1