The Flight of Princess Mary

a hole in the wall

Austen Knight had to do two things; get a new watch, and apprehend the biggest crime lord on his side of the London slums.

He stood underneath a streetlamp now, the thick fog barely providing him enough light to see through the ebony night. 

"Come on, you stupid thing," he says, tapping the glass pane covering the clock face, "Work for me." The clock refused to budge, hands permanently stuck at four in the afternoon. 

Judging by the light of the thin crescent moon, it was midnight.

Looking up at the dismal sky, Austen began to pace back and forth in the alley, trying to calm his nerves. It was a small alley, shoved in between two apartments, a dodgy, tottering, secluded area. All of South London was like that.

Bodies rot in the street, gambling dens and bars popped up just about everywhere. Sickness spread wildly, cleans water was hard to come by. He should've been here by now. Why wasn't he? Austen thought to himself as he listened to the quiet sounds of the cramped neighborhoods. Charles Black was never late. 

Austen had scoured every newspaper article, magazine page, and wanted poster in the city for months now. Charles was an elusive man, always one step ahead of the men who wanted his head on a platter. But he was a disgraced lord, and the lords of the high castle were never late.Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

Abruptly, the sharp, tangy smell of cigar smoke floated in on the foggy air. Austen froze, positioning himself so that he leaned casually up against the alley wall. Black preyed on fear. It was what made him powerful, what fueled his desire to be powerful. Austen knew fear more than any other man, but he knew how to hide it.

"The Rook, was it?" A booming voice called from behind Austen. Turning around slowly, he stepped out from the shadows underneath the alleyway overhang. Charles was shrouded in fog, four of his henchmen spread out on either side of him. It would've been an impressive sight, but Austen was no fool. He's putting on a display of power. Boasting. Charles was afraid of him. Austen almost smiled, stalking towards Black like he was his prey.

A powerful, disgraced lord, Charles Black was barely ten years older than Austen. Black ran all of the illegal gambling dens in London, and to no surprise, the police had been trying to catch him for the better part of a year. There was one thing they didn't count on; how smart the man would be. Black had managed to avoid every lawmaker, king, and common folk in London. There was a two thousand dollar bounty on his head, but the people who had managed to catch him never lived to get the bounty. Black was smart, but he was slipping.

The game did seem easy for Austen at this moment."Yes, I'm Austen Knight," Austen holds out his hand for Black to shake, "and you must be Charles Black.""Why have you asked to meet me?" Black said. Damn. The man wastes no time, Austen thought to himself, staggering backward and ruffling his dark hair. Black's piercing gaze follows Austen as he moves towards the alley wall. 

"See, I can help you," Austen grunts as he begins to remove the bricks from the center of the wall, "You're desperate. The police are beginning to close in, and you, a rich man, have no money and nowhere to go." Black cracks his knuckles, the blatant pop punctuating the quiet air of the alley. It was the only sign of worry the man was willing to show, but out of the corner of his eye, Austen sees him yank on a strand of his long blonde hair. Austen could use that.

"I don't need your-"

"No, I think you do," Austen slams the brick down on the alleyway floor, about halfway done with removing them, "You're three days away from getting caught. The police are closing in and if you want to get away with whatever is left of that pretty little head of yours, you'll take my advice." There was a two by four-inch hole in the wall now, the base of the old building visible from the outside.