┏━━━༻☆༺━━━┓
𝚁𝚎𝚗
┗━━━༻☆༺━━━┛
𝘖𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 31𝘴𝘵, 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨
Ren's finger circled the edge of his plastic cup, burner phone held against his ear. His legs mimicked the 'X' of the collapsible metal chair he sat upon.
The wafting of coffees and teas floated throughout the cafe, the waves bouncing like little will-o-wisps. The sniper waited for a call from Mitsan, glancing around at the coffee shop that was nestled next to the florist's shop. It lacked the hum of conversation that would have settled on shops like this one, had he visited prior to the war.
Lennox's steaming coffee lay in a paper cup adjacent to Ren's, growing colder with each extra minute the sniper was forced to sit idly.
The customers around him were quick to grab their drinks and leave, some of the diner chairs were so neglected by their patrons that Ren spied dust in the corners and crooks of the seats that would be difficult to clean quickly.
These people knew not to linger. Luckily, Ren had never been the fondest of following the crowd.
First, the uneven vibrations of the phone interrupted his observations, and then the cell erupted with sound, disturbing those around Ren. They stared, shamelessly, as Ren picked up the receiver.
"Hey, Mitsan."
His boss didn't return his greeting. "I'm going to have to reschedule the meeting we had set for December, Eris," they stated, their tone leaving no room for argument.
"Any particular reason why?" Ren asked, attempting to keep his voice neutral.
"I have other matters to attend to around that date. And you will too, if everything goes as planned. In theory, you shouldn't even need that meeting." Their words hinted at some unspoken plan.
A plan that hadn't been disclosed to the sniper.
"Yes sir." Ren's response was automatic, a conditioned reply to his boss's orders. The reminders of his duties kept piling up, much like Lennox's paperwork. He found himself recalling their earlier interaction, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered how adorably flustered the florist had looked when he fell across his assemblage of papers.
A sudden realisation hit him. He had to get the florist his coffee.
He visibly shook off his previous musings. "I'll see you next month then, sir?" he prompted, hoping to end the call quickly.
Mitsan scoffed, a sound that conveyed both amusement and annoyance. "I didn't know you were in a rush, Eris. Yes, I will speak to you then."
With that, his boss hung up, leaving Ren alone with his thoughts.
Once he departed from the coffeehouse, Ren disposed of the burner phone, a necessary precaution in his line of work. He downed gulps of his iced coffee as he hurried down the pavement, his mind already on his next task.
He slipped inside the flower shop, the old basement stairs creaking under the thundering of Ren's downward tread. The familiar scent of flowers filled his senses, a hint of the normalcy he craved.
"Flower boy!" he sang out, spinning to face Lennox with a grin. "I have a present for you!"
"About bloody time," Lennox retorted, his tone dry.
"Hey now, what kind of a reaction is that? Who was the one who fetched your coffee, huh? I don't suppose you got off your ass and bought it yourself, did you?" Ren teased, dangling the cup over Lennox's head.
"I might as well have. Whose money did you spend, huh?" the florist shot back, his words laced with mockery. He plucked the warm drink from Ren's grasp and took a sip, all the while maintaining eye contact with Ren. His eyes peeked over the cup ever-so-slightly, creating an intense and intimate moment between them.
The sniper, decidedly, found it unsettling. Lennox's gaze was disconcerting, a stark contrast to the casual banter they had been sharing.
He had no right to such moments.
Not when he was still lying with every breath he took.
︵‿༻☆༺︵‿
The champagne glass in Wade's hand shattered.
Ren gawked at the mess. Surely that wasn't his reaction to what he had said?
Wade waved his son over. "Clean that up," he ordered, seizing another flute from the table.
The sniper watched Lennox stoop down to sweep up the glass shards. With a simple sentence, Wade was demeaning and dehumanising him. In front of everyone.
His attention hovered back to Ren. "My apologies. It had just struck me that you probably believe that women should be fighting in this war, deciding who lives and dies, since they are 'meant for more'. I bet you even believe that the Queen deserves her throne."
The sniper had always believed the Brotherhood revered Zeraynia as their goddess. That they worshipped the ground she walked on. Words like Wade's would be considered an act of treason, but no one seemed surprised. Was it a trap? A way to test Ren's loyalty?
"Yes? Why wouldn't she?"
"Because we all have realised she slept her way to where she is now. Have you ever seen her use a gun? Has she ever done anything herself? She just goes to show that the only guns women should be handling are glue-guns."
He couldn't believe that Wade would dare to say that, in front of his wife and his paramour. Ren's cobra-like grip was strangling his glass, his only outlet for the unbridled anger coursing through him.
Men like him were one of the main reasons Ren was trans. Men who thought women couldn't do a bloody thing. Sarlyn would never dare let Wade's comments slide, and neither would Ren.
He didn't care about the plan anymore. Wade needed to die.
Tonight.
He was going to wait until Phase Four to kill him, but Ren saw this incident as more than enough justification to move his killing up in the timeline.
Around him, the crowd was laughing. Getting their kick out of Ren's humiliation. It seemed as if everyone in that room either agreed with Wade or was too afraid to cross him.
But not Ren.
"Ah, of course. My sincerest apologies. It was my mistake, thinking you could sustain an intelligent conversation with someone half your age without pushing your twisted ideals on them. My mistake, thinking you could talk without treasonous disrespect, not just to your queen, but to women everywhere. You don't deserve to breathe the same air as them. You would go so far as to so blatantly disrespect the woman who raised you? What about the woman you claim to love and promised your life to? And the woman who stands beside you even after you dragged her name through the muck, what about her? You fail to realise that you are here because of women. You are where you are today because of women. It seems to me that their sacrifices were in vain."
The growing circle surrounding them became the source of heightened whispers. Ren's audience was considering what he had to say, weighing it against their loyalty to Wade.
That should have wounded his pride enough to get him to admit defeat gracefully.
But in case he didn't, Ren had a plan. If Wade insisted on fighting back, he wouldn't hesitate to pound him into the dirt. If that was what it took, the sniper would make it happen.
"I'll have you know, any of the women associated with me should be honoured to have the privilege of knowing me. You, on the other hand, have no right to be talking on matters you know nothing about," Wade shot back, his feathers ruffled.
"Really? And who are you to say?"
"I am a man who has earned his place in this world. I've fought for everything I have, unlike those who rely on their pretty faces and silver tongues to get their way."
"And yet, here you are, threatened by a 'pretty face with a silver tongue'. If you truly earned your place, you wouldn't feel the need to belittle others to maintain it. A real man would respect everyone, regardless of gender or status. He would earn reciprocated respect. I know damn well you haven't earned it."
"You have no right to question my integrity, child."
Ren stood his ground, his gaze unwavering. "And you have no right to dishonour those who have done nothing but support you."
Emily, who had been silent throughout the confrontation, finally spoke up. "Enough!" she cried, her voice trembling. "This is not the time or place for such a discussion. Renato, dear, how could you say such things to someone who has so graciously allowed you into their home?"
Even after he insulted her, she defended him. Why?
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
He was sorry; for all that she had suffered from Wade's whims. But not for what he had said. No, of that he meant every word.
Ren's exit from the party was anything but graceful. The laughter of the party-goers, rich and cruel, echoed in his ears, their mirth suffocating him. He needed air, space to think, to plan his next move.
The moon was full, and his patience was waning. Ren had an opportunity, he needed only to seize it with steady arms.
Arms steady enough to kill.
He retreated to his bedroom that he was 'so graciously allowed' and shuffled around under the bed until he found his plague mask. No longer were they used to keep illness at bay, but rather to hinder the infestation of Veritas that plagued London.
It would be oh-so poetic for Ren to finish the task that was keeping him from the inner circle with the mask he had worn during his time spent as a rookie.
Fond memories resurfaced: of All Hallow's Eve raids featuring Ren and his mask, which was streaked both with red paint and scarlet blood.
Having switched into his Syndicate gear, Ren found himself standing outside Wade's office. He quietly picked the lock, his heart pounding in his chest. The party was over, the guests had left, and Wade was alone.
This was his chance. Finally, Ren could begin to redeem himself.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a desk lamp. Wade was there, a short glass filled with whiskey in his hand. He was seated behind a mahogany desk.
Ren rolled his eyes at the family's obsession with mahogany.
"Wade Carson. Commander of the 23rd Regiment." Ren's eyes never left the sitting figure, watching for any sign of surprise or fear.
Wade turned to face him. "Renato Hirano," he acknowledged, his tone devoid of any shrivel of shock. It was as if he had been expecting him. "Or should I say Ren Ryker? I was wondering when you'd show up."
"You don't seem surprised to see me." Ren tried to stay stoic, but the only thing barring his emotions and expressions from Wade's intent eyes was his mask.
He knew his real name.
"Like I'm not surprised with the speed at which you picked my lock?" Wade chuckled, setting his glass down. The half-melted ice clinked together. "Come now, Ren. Did you really think I wouldn't know? You've been living under my roof, eating my food, spending my money, all while planning to kill me."
Ren felt a chill run down his spine. "How did you..."
Wade cut him off. "The Brotherhood knows more than you would think. You aren't the only ones who have spies."
The sniper wondered if it was a bluff. But his target knew enough about the Syndicate's affairs that it encouraged Ren to err on the side of caution.
"But why let me stay?" Ren asked, his mind reeling.
Wade shrugged. "I guess I wanted to see how far you'd go. Besides, it's always good to keep your enemies close." He took a sip of his drink, unfazed.
He doubted his sincerity. He was too calculating, too cunning for that. There had to be more to it.
Ren felt a surge of frustration. Wade was just trying to get under his skin. He couldn't trust anything the Brotherhood said, so why would this be an exception? "You're a monster, through and through."
"Perhaps," Wade replied, his voice cold. "But at least I'm not a fraud." He looked at Ren with contempt. "You think you're a hero, don't you? You think you're fighting for a noble cause. But you're just a pawn, a puppet. You don't even know what you're fighting for. I bet you don't know what started this war, either."
"No one knows how the war started. Not even you." Ren pulled out his gun, silencer attached, his hands shaking. "You're going to die here. Tonight. I hope you're sorry about what you've done."
Wade didn't move. He didn't flinch. He didn't beg. He just smiled, a twisted grin that made Ren's blood boil and his veins strain. "I stopped feeling sorry about my actions a long time ago. 'Sorry' doesn't fix anything. 'Sorry' doesn't win a war, you naive child." He leaned forward, his voice low. "You'll learn that soon enough. Have all the delusions you want of winning this war, but it won't happen. You can kill me, but thirty more just like me will spring up to take my place."
He showed not an ounce of remorse; he deserved what was coming to him.
With that, Ren pulled the trigger.
The bullet, as expected, hit its mark. Wade's body slid out of his chair and onto the ground with an ominous thump. Blood stained his shirt, his carpet, and his life.
Ren didn't have much time before someone would discover the body.
He took one last look at the room, at Wade, and then he was gone, into the night. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his escape, the night air cool against his skin. The late evening breeze chilled the sweat on his body, causing Ren to shiver, but no longer of fear. Only of a chill which matched that of his heart.
Ren had never killed someone at such a close range before.
He didn't look back. He couldn't. Not yet. There was still so much to do, so much at stake. For his reputation, his identity, and his very life. But for now, he had won a small victory.
And that was enough for him. The rest could be figured out later.
He had made it only a matter of metres before something struck his leg.
A bullet.
One with the precision only a sniper rifle could provide. He cursed, realizing his mistake. Wade must have hired someone to guard him. Ren should have known the kill seemed too easy.
He limped behind a building, nearly collapsing in an effort to crouch. Ren reloaded his handgun and surveyed the area.
Things were complicated now. But he had the advantage, being a sniper himself. He scanned the area, looking for the best spot. Where would he hide, if he was the one assigned the job?
He spotted a tall building almost entirely crafted of glass. Before he had a chance to pursue his lead, however, the sniper approached to finish the job. A foolish move.
Ren waited as they got closer, and closer. They rounded a corner.
Checkmate.
He had no trouble dispatching Wade's failed protector. It took him a single shot. Ren grinned, a wicked smile that would command shivers down anyone's back.
The Veritas were getting soft, and he knew it. Their downfall was near.
With Ren's first kill complete, Phase Two was well underway.
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━
𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫? 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 --->