kimber and his men

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PART THREE

THE EVERLASTING WIND that greets concrete and skin just the same, flowed through Small Heath like the currents of the ocean

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THE EVERLASTING WIND that greets concrete and skin just the same, flowed through Small Heath like the currents of the ocean. It howled in pain. A foreshadowing. The once clear atmosphere was now foggy, the clouds that sat in the heavens were now seated on earth, blurring visions.

It was a grey sky today.

The only thing you could see in such a mist was The Garrison.

Tommy stood on the platform outside the metal factory, looking at the place he called home. Not just Small Health, but the Peaky Blinder men that listened to him from the ground.

"All right." Tommy's voice echoes through the street. "You all were mostly in the war, so you know that battle plans will always change and get fucked up."

He takes a deep breath, and the volume in his voice raises. "Well here it is lads, the plan has changed."

Arthur nods, picking up his gun and looking at Tommy reassuringly.

"We fight them here. Today. Alone." Tommy announces. "Now, they will come for the pub. They're going to try break us up for good."

John huffs with a persevering spirit. He had two large guns in his hand, more than ever, he was ready to take them on.

"And we'll have no help from the law today!" Tommy adds, louder.

With a handgun in his hand, Tommy points at the pub they knew so well. "That pub there is The Garrison. The centre of everything. Well now, The Garrison really is one."

He looks the men in the eyes, determined. "And it belongs to us! Right!?"

"Right!" They all shout back, raising their weapons.

"How many are there?!" Arthur asks, still loud.

"Jeremiah says two Riley vans. We're outnumbered three to one, I reckon." Tommy answers.

"Fuck." Arthur mutters, feeling instantly defeated.

"But it's us, boys. It's us! The Small Heath Rifles!" Tommy encourages. "Haven't lost a fight yet, have we?"

"No!" They respond, looking at each other proudly.

This was really it, the in-between of an end or beginning. The scariest place to be next to hell. A real life purgatory of all your fears and hopes, racing to a finish line.

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