All posts garnered the intrigued attention of other students privy to the board. Seems like they have already forgotten the unabashed bloodbath of those brief few days. What an easy-going existence that must be.
He was alive.
I sagged on the dusty bricks and allowed myself to mentally recover.
Now that I knew the callous bastard was still kicking, I started having misgivings. Clemency certainly wasn't on that man's mind. This was but a carefully deliberate trap for a cornered prey who desired nothing else.
Nevertheless, my restless fingers tapped an immaculate touchscreen over and over again. Explanations tripped over one another.
I eventually settled on, "Keep it. That wasn't me."
I didn't post it publicly. Sent the message privately from the same account to itself. Perhaps a mistake, because no notification would highlight it. Chances of this getting seen were abysmally low.
Absently scrolled through rest of the inbox. He had a lot of mail. Dumb kids were going way out of their shallow depth and… trying to flirt? A lot of that within the last hour, too, as if prompted by his words. Some boldly referred to the fetishes from the bogus article. These people had no self-preservation.
Arguably, the same could be said about me. I, too, waded waters too deep.
Tapped my foot impatiently. New notifications were popping up. My message will be buried under the jubilant fools actively trying their limited luck.
Before I started coming up with alternative ways of contact, noticed that each of the new messages have been read. Scrolled back to the top and found a reply.
"I know," it simply said and offered no additional explanation.
I waited. Nothing else came. Kicked the wall in irritation. It was absolutely infuriating having to ask, "What's that you're spouting then?"
"Don't you have a selection of other felonies?"
"You have no mercy to offer."
"My word is law. I do not ever speak lightly."
In an otherwise weak attempt of persuasion, there was a fist-sized pebble of truth. For average person words meant nothing. They were tools meant to be twisted and manipulated. But even I had to answer for the legitimacy of information to have any business. Region's leaders were under a whole other level of scrutiny. Alliances rested on the conduct and character of people who promised them. Their words started wars.
On the other hand, lying was a legitimate battle strategy, and the warlord desperately wanted a nuisance of my size gone.
I was tired. My tall barriers chipped under a promise of peace. Couldn't resist inquiring, "What do you need?"
"Meet me. Location of your choice."
Who could have guessed – pardon was something to be handed in person.
I've been struck by inexplicable sense of déjà vu. Deliberately mocking, I sent an address.
"15 min."
He couldn't be serious. This guy had to be aware of the allusion. There would be no meeting. I would be nowhere near the place. He wouldn't be, either. Just like the last time.
Yet, I began reassembling my old data centre. Dug out the hidden wires, and hooked them up to a display. Before long, watched an intersection I sent the lordling to.
Passers-by walked, not ran. Strike teams not there yet?
Odd, it took me a while to get all this working again.
I slumped down, relieved. Good. So this was but a mutual joke.
My eyes didn't stray from the choppy picture anyway. I didn't expect anything. Yet, I waited. Just in case.
Something was not quite right after all. Not quite a squad hiding in the berry bushes, but that box looked awful lot like rear of a car. Just beyond a greenhouse.
Shortly, a man came around the corner to stare down some curious kids. He wore a coat, but bulk and width betrayed an armour underneath. Warm hat hid the tell-tale baldness. The costume masked the identity, but it had no ambition of ever concealing a battle-ready soldier.
I watched stupefied. Was this really him? There was no way to tell. The camera wasn't strong on detail. A minor miracle this old thing worked at all.
It had to be a ploy. That man wasted months, if not years, tracking me down. Besides, didn't he just bleed all over the road? This decoy was far too healthy to be the same guy. It's a trick.
The man patiently surveyed his surroundings. I tapped my foot.
For someone who's been in the sniper's sights earlier today, he was far too nonchalant staying out in the open.
The mystery man pulled out a curved dagger and began twirling it around his fingers, later throwing it in the air. I couldn't see who it was, nor whether it was a same weapon. But only one person I knew could toss blades with such absentminded ease.
Fuck. If it indeed was Raktkalis… this was the chance at ceasefire I've been waiting! More. I've been offered a meeting on an even ground. A real one.
One monumental downside. I couldn't begin to conceive the diabolical trappings. I didn't see any of his men anywhere. Were they already in the buildings? Waiting for an order to storm the district?
I had a way around that. Not everyone was keen on dealing online. I met some clients in that exact spot.
Sent further instructions, hoping Raktkalis wouldn't lose his patience now. Descending into the sewers was not for everybody, least of all – nobles. The twisting paths would take him far away from whatever ambush he'd have planned, too.
To my utmost surprise, the man on the screen turned, found the correct door and disappeared through it.
Chewed my lip bloody before getting up to meet my fate.