Realistic or Modern Gangs of Birmingham - IC Thread [Open & Accepting]

[neverbackdown]

Tony and Julia Fletcher's House
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

Julia Fletcher

​

A small laugh escaped her lips at his comment about the unfinished room, but the amusement never quite reached her eyes. "Exactly, sure I can’t reach the curtains, so you have to stay around to do it,” she quipped, her voice light but strained as she tried to hold herself together—for Tony’s sake. He was cracking jokes, which she told herself was a good sign, but the amount of blood told a far grimmer story. Her stomach twisted with worry, but she forced herself to stay focused, her façade of calm the only thing keeping the rising panic at bay.

At the mention of Robert’s name, Julia’s brow shot up in shock. She knew he’d threatened Tony just days before, but this? This was Robert they were talking about—the man who had never taken things this far, not with the Fletchers. They were supposed to be working together. And, above all, he was Rory’s father. Her shock quickly morphed into anger, a blinding rage that she fought hard to suppress. It didn’t make sense that Robert would do something so extreme, and yet the blood on her hands made it horrifyingly real.

When Sully returned to the room, Julia’s eyes followed him as he knelt beside Tony, his expression as grim as her own. “We don’t need to have anything. You’re not dying,” she said, her voice defiant and absolute. She clung to the words like a lifeline, willing them into existence, as though speaking them out loud could rewrite the fate unfolding before her.

As Sully darted back out of the room, Julia instinctively thought to call him back, her lips parting to shout his name. But she stopped herself. Instead, she let him go, silently praying that he would find the bastard responsible and make him pay for what he’d done.

When Tony’s hand rested weakly on her own, Julia’s focus snapped back to him. Tears streamed down her face as she leaned closer. “I love you too—forever and always, my love,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. For the first time, she allowed herself to accept the terrible truth she’d been fighting: Tony might not make it out of this.

As her mind reeled with the crushing acceptance of what might happen, a sudden flash of blue light illuminated the room, and the wail of sirens shattered the tense silence. Relief and desperation warred within her, her voice breaking as she screamed, “In here!” hoping to catch the paramedics' attention outside all the while keeping the pressure on Tony's wounds.

She turned her attention back to Tony as though sheer willpower could keep him tethered to her. “Just a little bit longer,” she whispered, her voice trembling but determined. “You’ll make it out of this. You will.”


*******
Int;-
Misty Gray - Tony
BeyondDandy - Sully

 

[ReverseTex]

Undiscloced Warehouse
-Somewhere near Welsh Border-

Misty Gray
neverbackdown

Ellias Conway
​

The transit from Birmingham to Wales went smoother than he expected, considering the extra acquired target. The girls slept soundly; no need for bindings, thanks to the sedative. They didn’t raise any suspicion at the border crossing. A simple smile and story that his sisters had a rough night in Birmingham and needed to call their older brother to pick them up seemed to suffice for the border officers. Once he was well past the crossing, he made a stop along the side of the road to restrain both girls temporarily with some rope. They’d have more professional restraints at the warehouse, but it was purely precautionary.

Once the trio arrived, Ellias handed off the girls to Aidan’s lackeys. Rhys was directly in charge of the men, so he thought best to leave the grunt work to them. He was above that sort of babysitting. But he knew he needed to remain present for Aidan’s arrival, in case any further instruction was necessary or if Rhys needed more delegation. Plus, he needed to know the fortunate hiccup. So he simply stood quietly on the outside of the warehouse. The crisp Welsh air was harsh on his lungs, wet from the forming dew and mist. It had been years since he stepped foot in his homeland. Something etheral yet sobering overcame him. Was it nostalgia? His life had been nothing but remaining in motion. Constantly moving and always with something on the horizon. But now, outside this measley Welsh warehouse, which he hadn't expected to be at, he was faced with his emotions for a moment. To pass the time, he lit a cigarette to keep him occupied.

Before he could finish his smoke, headlights appeared upon the horizon. From their shape, he determined it was Aidan’s driver and car. Ellias continued his smoke, taking a lazed drag as the car rolled to a stop on the gravel road. “Evening, Sir.” Ellias said coolly, his emotionless tone hinting at nothing. It was as if he was addressing an officer for a mission report. “In our original consultation, I knew I’d be able to acquire one target, either Felicity Walker or Rory Fletcher. Well, as fortune may have it, both ladies happened to be together this evening. My research didn’t indicate this, but I had enough supplies to get them both.” He explained. Now that his smoke was finished, he tossed it upon the gravel before snuffing the bud with his toe. “Everything else is moving according to plan. I remain uncompromised, and Rhys is inside handling the girls.”

Ellias's back straightened out of habit, and he rested his pockets casually in his coat. "I'll need to remain back and forth in the city to maintain my cover and alias during the girl's stay. The contract we've negotiated expires at the conclusion of this job. But I can make myself available for further work. You'll just need to give me notice so I can make necessary plans." Their contract only specified this job, but he knew the way men like Aidan worked. Once they got a taste of his talent and efficacy, they often needed his services again.

 

[ReverseTex]

The Tea-Terrace - Tea Shop and Bistro
- City Centre, Birmingham, England -

@BasDorcha

Dr. Richard Finley

Richard listened intently to the little girl’s recount. It was clear who was who, at least to him. The bully was his late nephew, who by no means was a meek or little threat. Forensic evidence, along with Marco’s confession, only confirmed the situation at hand. In some degree, Marco was acting in self-defense. That truth was what both Caroline and Robert had to understand. Charles wasn’t murdered in cold blood.

His mind was working through the information in front of him. Of course, he couldn’t disclose the truth to Dean just yet. The lad’s trial hadn’t started, so Marco’s testimony wasn't public knowledge. Shit, Robert didn’t even know the extent of that conversation. And where things stood, private eye Dean Walters wasn’t far off the trail either. Moreover, with the current climate between the Walkers and Fletchers, it just wasn’t ideal timing for all of this to be resurfacing.

“Yes, yes. God, there’s no need to rhyme.” Richard snapped from thought, the little girl’s voice breaking his concentration. “Thank you, Dream; you’re an observant girl.” He kindly complimented. Dean’s next plea was met with equal enthusiasm. “Why, I don’t see the harm in that? Reckon there’s a burger and ice cream shack a few blocks from here.” He raised a playful eyebrow. With Dean’s assistance, he pushed himself off the ground. His leg was starting to ache with the cold and the strain of the end of the day. But he’d make do. Once he was up, he offered a kind hand to Dream, who seemed apprehensive of the whole affair. “Don't worry, I'm good company. At least I think so? Dean’s put up with me for nearly thirty years.” He explained. The tone he adopted hadn’t resurfaced in nearly a decade. Now that his nieces and nephews were grown, there hadn’t been a need to speak so tenderly to a child. But his ever-compassionate nature prevailed over any grand logic. This child was lost, alone, and needed help. Whatever he could do, he’d manage. “You’re safe, I promise.”

 

[Misty Gray]

Undisclosed Warehouse
- Somewhere, England-Wales Border -

Aidan Jones​

Aidan took advantage of the car journey to have some time to himself. Between his meeting with Russo, Tony being shot, and giving Ellias the go ahead to execute the plan, it had been a productive even already. Robert's refusal had been completely expected, so Aidan had no doubts he'd be travelling to the warehouse to debrief Ellias on the mission. Aidan's night was still young, so he relaxed back in the front passenger seat as his driver got them safely to their destination. He'd already told Sarah and Dylan not to expect to see him for a day or so, fully expecting to be dealing with things at the border.

When the vehicle pulled into a spot outside the warehouse, Aidan spotted Ellias standing outside having a smoke. It had been on Sarah's own recommendation to hire a hitman - someone highly skilled for the tasks Aidan had in mind. Ellias appeared to be that, along with professional and efficient. He supposed now was the time to find out if the man's reputation was warranted.

Aidan climbed out of the car and pushed the door to a close as he began walking around the vehicle. The driver switched of the engine but remained seated in the car. "Good evening," Aidan greeted Ellias in return. He had every confidence the evening was indeed good, at the very least. Aidan stood directly opposite him and listened as the man reported back on the mission like a soldier addressing his superior. Professional, as expected. Aidan's mouth subtly contorted to reveal a small smile upon hearing both Felicity and Rory had been taken. "Impressive", he thought.

"Excellent work, Conway. Efficient and effective, with double the reward. This certainly give us more leverage for the next stage," he said, ideas already forming for ways to further use the development against the Walkers.

Aidan nodded in agreement when Ellias spoke of maintaining his cover. With mention of the contract, Aidan sent the man a knowing look. Given how well the evening had gone, he was inclined to make further use for his services after the current objective. "I would appreciate if you could make yourself available for the new few weeks, Conway. Between the Walkers, Fletchers, various legal and authority figures, there's still much to do before my work in Birmingham is completed."

ReverseTex (Ellias)

 

[BeyondDandy]

Tony Fletcher’s Residence
- Aston, Birmingham, England -

SULLY FLETCHER
​

Sully ripped through the thick underbrush, his breath ragged and heated in his throat. The rain had begun as a drizzle, but it suddenly came down in torrents, soaking his clothes and turning the woodland floor into a slick, muddy mess. His feet slipped on the muddy ground, but he pressed on, chasing the man who had just shot his brother.

Twigs snapped in the distance, leaving a trail of sound that drew him ahead. His pistol felt heavy in his fingers, the grip slippery from the rain. The trees grew denser around him, their skeletal branches raking at his face and arms as he dashed into the gloomy woods. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, a warning roar that appeared to shake the ground beneath his boots.

Then he noticed it—a glimmer of light in the trees. A car. Its headlights shone into the gloom, lighting the soaked road beyond the forest border. Sully's heart pounded in his chest as he ran faster, his legs burning from exertion. He emerged from the treeline just in time to see the automobile door slam shut. A stranger leapt into the passenger seat and shouted something at the driver.

Sully did not hesitate. He sprinted for the automobile, clamping his hand around the passenger door handle just as the tires squealed on the wet pavement. The car jerked forward, but Sully wrenched the door open with all of his strength, grabbing the man inside by the collar. Sully was pulled over the ground, his knees scratching against the tarmac, before the two of them slid down the embankment and into the trees below.

They landed forcefully, forcing the air out of Sully's lungs. His pistol flew out of his grasp, sinking into the muck and leaves. He jumped to his hands and knees, his gaze darting around madly. The rain obscured his eyesight, but he saw the masked assailant just a few steps away, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Sully rose to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. He raised them by his cheeks, unconsciously adopting the position his father had instilled into him as a child. The masked man mirrored him, raising his hands, his movements careful and practiced.

The man attacked first, with a wide hook aimed at Sully's jawline. Sully stopped it with his forearm before countering with a fast cross, his knuckles meeting with the man's cheekbones. The masked man fell back a step before lunging forward, throwing his arms around Sully's waist and tackling him to the ground.

Sully grunted as he landed in the mud, snapping his head back against the soil. As the man attempted to pin him, stars danced in his vision, but Sully twisted his body and used momentum to push him away. He rolled to his feet and leaned against a nearby tree for stability.

The two men surrounded each other and exchanged punches in the pouring rain. Sully's fists ached with each punch, leaving his knuckles raw and bruised. The masked man's strikes were severe, but Sully stood firm, his father's warning reverberating in his mind: "Keep your guard up. Look for an opening.”

Sully feinted low, diverting the man's attention to his gut, before landing a tight right punch on the man's jaw. The masked man faltered, and Sully took advantage, hitting a jab and then an uppercut that put him crashing on the ground.

Without hesitation, Sully pounced, straddling the man and tearing his mask off. He grasped the man's hair, pulling his head back to get a better look at him. Recognition came slowly, like a cold sword pressing against his spine.

“You… you’re Russo’s man,” Sully breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding rain.

The man responded with a flash of steel. As a knife pierced Sully's ribcage, pain erupted in his side. He gasped, his hands rushing to the incision as blood dripped between his fingers. The man shoved him and stood over him, the blade still dripping.

Sully struggled to stand up, his eyesight blurred, but the stranger moved too swiftly. The knife plunged down again, this time into his gut. Sully coughed, a wet gurgling sound, as he felt his lungs fill with fluid.

As the man drew the knife free and stabbed him for the third time, the world around him blurred and darkened. Sully's body leaned back against the tree, his breathing faint and gasping.

The two men who had come for him argued momentarily before returning to their car, their voices disappearing into the storm. Sully's arms felt like lead, but he shoved one hand into his pocket and took out a crumpled paper. His bloodied fingers stained the paper as he attempted to write, his thoughts urging him to leave some sort of hint.

The letter R—Russo's name—was all he could muster before his strength failed. The note slid from his grasp and fell open in the muck next to him. The rain started to wash away the blood, but the words he had scrawled earlier remained, faint but discernible.

“I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe more than I should, but I couldn’t let another day pass without writing this. Let me know you’re okay, yeah?”

Sully's head dropped forward, his chin resting against his chest. His breathing slowed, each more difficult than the previous one, until they came to a halt entirely.

The storm roared on, the rain falling in torrents, but Sully's note persisted. One final message.

Misty Gray
neverbackdown