“No I’m not Legolas, it’s this character Vax’ildan from Critical Role? A bunch of nerdy ass voice actors play D&D and stream it on twitch...” Eli left off as he saw the person he was talking to roll their eyes. Yeah okay, sometimes it would be categorized by certain people as nerdy but the show was great! They had raised millions of dollars and were actually going to be getting a show on Amazon Prime soon! “It’s fine, you can call me Legolas if you want.” He stated glumly, before walking over to a place where he could get a look at some of the carnival games. Noticing someone beside him, he smiled slightly and looked at the person he was joining. “You notice any good prizes up there?”
The dalmatian bounded to her side and looked up at her with such devotion she couldn’t help but smile. He’d been such a comfort to her the past few months. Watching him grow from a puppy into this obedient, loving creature brought Nevra more pleasure than she’d thought possible.
Anyone passing by would think they were just out for a romp in the park. They were, in fact, training. The breed needed extra attention and structure and she’d found out the hard was that if Sabir didn’t have a task, he became destructive. He’d already torn apart three throw pillows and a pair of sneakers. So she’d decided to teach the dog something that would be useful.
Finding weapons.
The assassin had hidden a few of her knives in the grass and around the trees. They were in a relatively isolated area of the park so the likely hood of someone else picking them up was slim.
“Bulmak.”
She watched as the dog trotted off, sniffing around the place. He’d been going for the one under a nearby tree when something else caught his attention. Someone else, actually. Sabir approached them, sat down, and barked. Nevra cocked her head to the side. Interesting. That was the action she’d taught Sabir for when he found his mark.
Too far away to see who it was, Nevra started towards them. She didn’t, however, call Sabir off. Better to keep him there if the person posed a potential threat.
Elijah liked the parks. It let him think, and appreciate the beauty of the city he had been lucky enough to be born in. Sure there were plenty of problems with it, but he still enjoyed it. But the problem with parks was they were public and you never knew who the fuck was gonna come and get in your face. Or when you would be called to get to work. So he always kept himself at least a little protected.
The metal hung in the pocket of his hoodie as he sat there on the bench, just keeping his eyes open across the public walking through the area. Until he saw a dog coming towards him, a Dalmatian. Interesting dog. Definitely seemed to be looking for something. And when the dog alerted looking at him, he started to feel that tightening apprehension in his chest. The dog didn’t seem like police, but he wasn’t sure. But when the woman started to follow, he relaxed somewhat. But it was still good he had stopped at the grocery on the way into the park.
Grabbing one of the pair of sausage rolls he had wrapped in his pocket, he subtly moved it to the same pocket as the weapon he had on him. At least he would have a somewhat plausible reason for the denial if he needed it.
“Cute dog you’ve got here. What’s their name?” The question was immediate as the woman got close, just to make sure there was no reason for any suspicion.
Elijah muddled through the streets of London, trying to find his way to a place where he could have some peace, maybe a drink, and maybe just some time to think. Though at least one of those was almost certainly incapable of coming at any point that he was conscious. Or unconscious for that matter. Maybe he just was unable to ever find that peace. Maybe it could come at the bottom of a bottle one day. Maybe one day he would find some peace. But of course those were all possibilities. There was no certainty for his future, he knew that much by now. The only certainty he had was that he was going to get a drink. And The Underground was probably the safest place for him to do it. He just hoped he wouldn’t be too bothered when he was there.
The ex-con didn’t even bother looking around the establishment as he entered, making a quick bee-line for the bar to get himself a beer. And maybe a gin as well. Turning with his hands full, he finally allowed himself a second to scan the seating area to find a place for himself. And yet, his scan stopped as soon as his eyes lighted upon a familiar face. The first step was taken before he had even thought about it, and the second was as soon as he had the impulse to keep walking. And then he was there. He hadn’t even thought twice about it. Which wasn’t out of character for the enforcer, surely. But then he sat down in the booth and looked across the table at the sister of his best friend. “Fancy seeing you here. It’s been a while. You’re looking really good.” Elijah said to Eleanor, a wide smile on his face as he placed his drinks on the table.
Francisco Vidal was there not to show support for the hosts. In all reality, he thought and believed, that the whole thing was an act. A show for the Russians to host while something much bigger was happening behind closed doors. Yes, for the image of the Rutherfords and for himself he played some games, offered some money for the cause. After all, it was all a show. People had gathered, as they always did, in order to show their support. Pretend they were all against violence, though a big part of the whole event was the one that caused it. Perhaps not in forms of bombs, and done in a tasteful manner, but still nonetheless, war was war.
“Red twenty two.” He said, as he turned his head, only to spot Eli. “I do not care much for winning, though. I think I’m going to dip out in not too long..” He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder - in a hello. “You’ve got your wins, your hello’s all done? Or you planning to go somewhere else with this lot?”
~
Much of Elijah’s time since his release from prison had been spent trying to get used not just to life back outside of those walls and not just to the new life he had been brought back into. And yet there were still some moments like this where he felt like it was only right to stand and try to drink in his own good fortune. Even with the hollow shell of the reality of what all of them actually believed and were a part of. Even those without affiliations who were there had to be at least somewhat aware of the life and the connections that many here carried. At least some of them were honest about it.
“Suppose I might as well follow your lead then.” He responded, a smile forming on his face as he moved to place his chips to follow. “I’ve shown face enough, I suppose. Not sure if there are any people planning much for afterwards. I’m always available.”
Eli kept telling himself that it was normal to have nightmares. Many people had nightmares when they slept. Many people had trouble sleeping at night, and it was nothing to be ashamed of. Wasn’t it? Sure most people probably didn’t have nightmares over the things that the enforcer found himself having the same nightmare about, but then again, most of those people weren’t like him. They hadn’t had to do the things he had been forced to do so he would survive. Not that he would particularly take any of it back. It had all been instrumental in putting him here where he was now. Though perhaps there was the one thing he wishes he could go back and not have done.
The shrill beeping of the alarm clock reminded him that it was an end to his restless night. Breath hung heavy in his chest. There was a fog there. Almost like he had absorbed the heaviness of that moment, that he had let it fester within him, let it sear its mark on his very soul. Strange thoughts for anyone to have but particularly strange for someone who was not all that much of a spiritual or religious person in the first place. What use did a man like him even have for a soul? It could only get in the way, certainly?
Mornings after those nights, all Elijah could do was take it all in pieces. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Open the door, turn the corner, take another few haltering steps and reach the next door. Turn the handle, step inside, and try hard as he could not to look at himself in the mirror. The shower could provide some much needed respite, or at least, he hoped that it could. As soon as the water began to hit his head however, he found he was somewhere else entirely.
As the water droplets turned into the raindrops from that black night, the enforcer was back there again. The man below him, wrists bound, begging for mercy. The man who he called brother’s words echoing in his ears, throbbing like a heartbeat. Those words he told himself to finally pull the trigger screaming through his mind. You’ve killed for less. Elijah knew it was true. Then why was this one night unable to stop haunting him? Why did this man’s face stay pressed into his memory? Why did every shower become that night? And most importantly, why could he no longer sleep?
It wasn’t even the fact that he had known the man whose forehead he had decorated with a bullet, as that had been no issue in the past. He hated reliving the night, he hated the constant questioning of why it would not leave him, and he hated the pit deep in his stomach when it festered and burned him like an ulcer. The more he contemplated it, the more he wondered whether or not this would be the death of him one day. At either his own hand or someone else’s. Though things of that nature were too far in the future for the enforcer to consider at the moment. All he knew was that he had to take the time to make it through the day. Then he could begin the endless fight against the memories and the dreams that night again.
Elijah tried to enjoy parties like this as much as he could. It was much harder when Charlie wasn’t around though. The man had such a way of bringing the enforcer out of his shell. Though at least he could look around for people he knew, or people that could be important to get to know. There were always more opportunities to put his skills to work, even if it didn’t bring him any true pleasure in being forced to put those particular skills to work. Especially recently. It had felt like things had been changing for him. But it was still the only thing that he was truly able to do.
At the end of the day though, these types of events were equally a part of the job. You show face, you shake the hands, you smile, you lose some money, and you stick close to your friends. Some would get drunk. Eli might have a couple. Maybe not all that many. It was better to remain strong and solid. And to be, frankly, capable of doing his real job if it ever kicked off. And to stay in control. He couldn’t risk breaking down. Not in public. Not while drunk. So there he was, standing in front of a roulette wheel, glancing over at the person stood next to him. “So.... where you planning to put your money?”
