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

[Misty Gray]

Temple Street Cafe
- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -

Tony Fletcher and Marco Alessi​

Not that he'd ever needed the man's approval, but Tony took some reassurance from Richard confirming he didn't suspect him as being behind the attack. He nodded his head, along with the gratitude being written all over his face. Having spent many times on the receiving end of people's lack of faith in him, it always meant a great deal when people did believe him.

The older man went on to assure him he'd never spoken ill of the Fletchers. "Is that through choice, or because Caroline and Robert won't let you get a word in?" he drily asked, managing a smirk. The concern about Rory pulled Tony back to a more serious expression. "Thanks. I ain't feeling too good about letting her down on that front. With Dad out of the picture, it's on me to look out for my family," he told him. "I was lucky to have a Dad growing up, but Rory's hardly know it," he trailed off.

Tony nodded in agreement that his situation was delicate. Robert and Caroline wouldn't believe him. They were too set in their ways to even take Richard's word on the matter. "It's bloody hard to prove I wasn't involved in something. And I don't have enough weight behind me to find out who did do it, especially if the Walkers and the pigs are struggling."

When Richard said he needed to know about Charles Walker, Tony furrowed his brows at the man. He suddenly wished he hadn't met up with him now he was probing on such a sensitive subject. Tony quickly shook his head when Richard made it clear he knew something about the murder, even if he wasn't the killer. "Nah..." Tony began, but stopped when Richard spoke about training intelligence officers. That seemed like a threat, even if the older man believed Tony didn't kill Charles.

"Again. I can't give you any kind of evidence to prove my innocence," he pointed out. "I can say it until I'm blue in the face, but they're too stubborn to listen to me." Tony looked down into his coffee mug, trying to figure out what he could say to Richard that would help his case. There was no way he could snitch on Marco, not even if it was to save his own skin.

Having been caught off-guard by Richard's persistence for the truth, Tony had lowered his guard in keeping an eye on his surroundings. As such, he hadn't noticed Marco had entered the cafe, having tracked Tony down. "I wish there was something I could tell you to make you and the rest of them believe me. But I swear. I had nothing to do with Charles' death. We didn't like each other one bit, but I didn't kill him, nor did I make it happen," Tony firmly assured Richard, his face turning red with the stress of it all.

The weight of his guilt had been weighing on Marco for months now. Knowing how suspicions on Tony were once again growing in the wake of the gala attack was only eating away of the young man even more. Tony had taken him in when he was a teenager with nothing to his name and Marco felt guilty for putting the burden of his secret onto his shoulders now too. With Tony's recent detached behaviour, Marco had followed him in hopes he could do something to relieve some of the burden. Now, seeing Tony speaking with Richard and looking stressed, the concern only intensified.

Having reached the table at the wrong moment, Marco overheard Tony trying to plead his innocence to Richard about Charles' death. They were still trying to pin it on him and Tony seemed backed into a corner. Marco stood over the two seated men and took a deep breath, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to maintain the strength to continue burying the truth. "He's not lying, Dr. Finley," Marco spoke up, prompting Tony to suddenly look up at him having been taken by surprise.

"Marco," Tony said, gripping the young man's wrist as he looked him dead in the eyes and quickly shook his head. "Private conversation, mate..."

Marco pulled away from Tony's hand and looked back at Richard. "I did it. Charles attacked me and I defended myself. I killed him," he said, lowering his voice so only the two men could hear him."

ReverseTex (Richard)

 

[ReverseTex]

Temple Street Cafe
- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -
- Monday 1st December 1975 -
Misty Gray

Dr. Richard Finley

​

Richard’s lip furrowed at Tony’s withdrawal when he mentioned Charles. He knew it was risky being so brash about it, but this was the only way to build trust. He let the young man linger on his words, silence tended to prompt more response. As Tony lamented, he noticed a frantic-looking man enter the cafe. His eyes seemed to land on Tony, for a moment, startling him. He seemed in no way coherent, in fact; a tad crazed. If he hadn’t been injured, he might’ve risen in defense. However, he was stuck. He tried to turn his attention back to Tony, who he determined was being truthful about his involvement before the stranger approached the table. This stranger, knowing his surname, startled him. Not that it was uncommon for people who he didn’t know to know him, but this seemed different. Tony quickly pipped in, referring to the man as Marco. So they were acquainted? Before he could process more, he noticed Tony adopt Marco’s sudden nervous energy. Almost immediately, Marco blurted the truth: he killed Charles.

Richard sat pensively, examining both men. Had Tony been more relaxed he would have been inclined to believe this Marco character was lying. In a crafty way, he was right that Tony told him the truth. If Marco killed Charles accidentally, then Tony technically had nothing to do with it. Not that a technicality saved him from judgment, but logically he wasn’t at fault. But at the same time, he had lied about not knowing who did it. His eerily calm silence disturbed both nervous men. “Pull up a chair, lad,” Richard said calmly, inviting Marco to sit at the side of the table. As Marco did so, he watched him carefully. Watching his hands grab the chair, the same hands that wrung the life out of his nephew… Shaking away the mental image, he grounded himself in the present.

“Listen, boys…” Richard started, leaning back in his chair slightly. “We’re going to sort this out, right here in this cafe.” He said firmly, like a strict parent. “You killed my nephew,” he shot a glance at Marco, “and you knew about it,” landing his gaze onto Tony. “I'm glad there’s truth now. We can finally get to business.” He turned his attention back to Marco. “Like I told Tony, I'm much more forgiving and thoughtful than my brother and sister-in-law. Call it whatever you like, but I don’t believe in an eye for an eye. Quite antiquated, if you ask me.” After years of seeing violence firsthand, through war and crime, he rarely resorted to it in old age. There were better solutions in this world than death. A lesson Charles ought to have learned from him, but didn’t. “This feud needs to end, it's trivial and now we’re at a time where both of our families are equally in danger. You are the roadblock to that peace.” He pointed a stern finger at Marco.

He sat for a moment, contemplating his next words. Like he said earlier, the situation with Robert and Caroline was delicate. If he outed Marco to them, Robert would serve Marco’s head on a silver platter to his wife. That behavior wasn’t helpful. If Caroline found out, she’d react worse than her brother. A mother’s scorn wasn’t something to toy with. Tony wanted to protect his family and friends, and rightfully so. He couldn’t blame the lad… If he let his idea come to fruition, assuming the mayor's position, then he would have control of Marco’s fate. Even if Robert had his influence, ultimately he was bound by law and reason. Marco would receive a sentence in a court of peers, and his fate would be behind bars. He knew that idea would trigger bad memories for the Fletchers and be unsatisfactory for the Walkers. But, it was a compromise. Not everyone won, that was the point.

“I’ll be running for Mayor, Tony.” He said bluntly, turning his full attention to him. “You’re the first to hear me utter those words, so you better keep them to yourself for the time being.” Hoping that trusting him with this information was a show of good faith, that he wasn’t a mere puppet to Robert like so many thought. This was his own volition. “You’re better off with the devil you know rather than the one you don’t in that office,” he promised. “I was a boy like you once, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your community. I'd likely help out more than that gaffer Gerald.” Even in Gerald’s death, he knew he was a politician at heart. Richard, on the other hand, was not. He felt a call to lead, not a want to do so. “If I get the seat, you’ll need to be dealt with under a court of law.” He pointed his finger back at Marco, maintaining eye contact with Tony. “A jail cell is more fair to spend your days than anything Robert or Caroline would do to you. If you don’t believe that, then you’re both fools.” Richard added. “That’s the compromise. If we can make that happen, then this little feud can be written aside. With my friendship, you’ll get more fair treatment with the law and a solidified path to Robert. If the three of us are where we’re supposed to be, then whoever attacked our families will have Hell to pay.”

For a moment, Richard’s stomach sank. He didn’t like playing politics and bargaining. It wasn’t in his nature to do so. He was a humble professor, who enjoyed his books and a good laugh. Sure, he studied politics and taught on the matter, but throwing himself in the ring was entirely different. But here he sat, reinvigorated after the gala bloodbath. But in his soul, Birmingham needed him. At Tony’s age, he would’ve scoffed at the idea of feeling the need to serve the city that inflicted so much pain on him. But now, it felt only right to try to save it and his friends.

 

[Misty Gray]

Temple Street Cafe
- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -

Tony Fletcher​

Tony looked at Marco, his jaw dropping in shock at what his friend had just blurted out. "What the hell?" he asked, under his breath. "Marco, what are you talking about?" he said, letting out an amused scoff. Turning back to look at Richard, he was about to pass it off as Marco going through some issues, but it was clear on the old man's face he believed what he'd just heard. "He's just trying to save my arse. But it don't need saving, because I didn't do it," he firmly told both Richard and Marco.

"No..." Marco said, quickly shaking his head at Tony to tell him to shut up. As instructed, he pulled out a chair and sat at the table with each man positioned at either side of him. "I did it and it was nothing to do with Tony." He felt more uncomfortable with Richard being calm than he would have been if the man attacked him. Knowing enough about the Walkers, he expected most of them would have torn him to shreds in an instant.

Marco had no choice but to sit in silence as Richard addressed him and Tony. He felt sick to his stomach and whilst in the heat of the moment he was regretting telling the truth, he knew keeping the secret hadn't been easy either. Keeping everything locked inside wasn't killing him from the inside, so maybe now that process would happen much sooner and do everyone involved a favour. That said, Richard went on to say he was more forgiving than Robert and Caroline, that he wasn't going to react in the violent manner Marco had spent many months imagining.

When told the feud needed to end, Marco nodded his head in understanding. Having been on the receiving end of the Walkers' threats and violence - not just from Charles - he agreed with Richard. Penny, Dorothy, and all of the other innocent members of Tony's family didn't need to keep being put at risk. As long as the Walkers and Fletchers were at war, he knew there would be innocent casualties. With a stern finger pointed at him, and the accusation he was preventing peace, Marco looked at Richard somewhat defensively. "I didn't set out to do it! Charles was threatening Tony's family and he could easily have killed me first. You all know how strong he was... I had to defend myself."

"Hey, we know," Tony reassured Marco, placing a hand on his shoulder. The lad's confession couldn't be taken back now it had been given in front of Richard. Already, Tony was thinking up ways of getting Marco far away from Birmingham and any punishment for killing someone who he believed, quite frankly, had deserved it.

When Richard suddenly announced he was running for Mayor, Tony looked at him with a quizzical expression. "Well, that seems right up your street, but why would I give a shit about politics?" he asked. He then shrugged when told to keep it quiet. He could easily do that, depending on how the present conversation went. Besides, if even the Walkers didn't know about it yet, Tony supposed he now had some interest in Richard and his motivations. He nodded in understanding about being better off with the devil he knew. Tony had had pleasant conversations with Gerald, but he always saw it as a politician trying to secure more votes. The late Mayor certainly hadn't been truly in touch with the lower classes, even if he acted like he understood them. Richard at least knew first hand what the world was like for those who weren't born with a silver spoon in their mouth. "Not to speak ill of the dead, but he didn't give a shit about us lot, did he?" he agreed.

Marco anxiously ran his hand through his hair at mention of spending his life in jail. It was one of his many nightmares, that was for sure. However, since killing Charles, he hadn't felt free in the slightest. He'd been locked away and trapped in his own head having to keep the terrible secret to himself. Could actual prison be much worse? It was true that it wouldn't be as bad a punishment as facing Caroline's and Robert's wraths would be.

"We believe you," Tony interjected, knowing full well what the Walkers were capable of. "I've seen what your side does to people who get in their way. From Charles himself, too. Thing is. Robert created this whole mess. He wanted to play God taking over this city. Fucking up and wiping out anyone that got in his way - including sticking the knife into my old man at every chance. Yet, when one of his own gets killed, it's a different story and the world has to pay. Everyone else has to suffer." Tony shook his head and looked at Marco. "Just get up and walk out of here. It's not like this guy can stop you, Marco. I'll make sure you get far away from Birmingham and the clutches of the cops and Walkers. You won't get a better chance at freedom," he encouraged him.

"No," Marco replied, quickly shaking his head. "I already ran away once," he said, referring to fleeing his family and his rough childhood when he was a teenager. "I'm done running, Tony. Even if I escape the law, I can't escape the guilt. I'm not living right now. Even what I have with Penny isn't enough to distract me from how rotten I feel inside. She deserves better." Marco thought over Richard's words about the compromise and that he'd get fairer treatment with Richard on side. "We have to do this one the right way, Tony. I won't have your family put at further risk to protect me. I appreciate your loyalty, but I have to deal with what I did. You've all got enough on your plates."

Tony let out a relenting sigh. He hated the idea of Marco going to jail. The young man had street smarts, along with being quick-witted enough bargain his way out of trouble. But prison was a whole new ballgame and Tony didn't believe the lad had the stomach for it. "Richard... You have to stick to your word and do what you can to make sure Marco doesn't get the book thrown at him. He did what anyone would do when backed into a corner by a big fuck-off bully like Charles!"

ReverseTex (Richard)

 

[BeyondDandy]

The Crown Pub
- Small Heath, Birmingham -

SULLY FLETCHER
​

The family owned pub was silent. Aside from Sully and the bartender, there were three more clients about. One was an old man too drunk to move a muscle from the stool he was perched on. His forehead was resting on the bartop as drool oozed from the corner of his lip. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled to himself as if suffering from night terrors. Despite all of that, the old fart held a firm grip of his half-full mug of Watneys. Legend. The other two were a couple of old friends who had just finished their shift at the mills. They wore matching jean overalls covered in grease, dirt and muck with their company logo stitched to their heart. The two were too busy in their game of chess to have a conversation. They were focused and relentless.

Sully sat near the pub window, looking into the street. The neighborhood of Small Heath was nothing like he remembered. His father used to fancy the place for its small shops, good food, great beer and even better company. Now it was a shithole covered in dark clouds of smoke and trash on every corner and crease. The place was torn to shreds by a surrounding ecosystem that outgrew its need. Big factories and companies took over West Midlands and created slums like Small Heath to stuff the middle class they couldn’t force to move. Because of that, shops closed, crime increased and the neighborhood turned inside out. A real shame. However, what became one person's trash was another man’s treasure, Sully thought as he looked across the street at the warehouse Felicity had arranged for their business partner.

He noticed her coming into the pub a few minutes later. He waved, approaching her with a glass of Watneys in each hand. One for her and one for himself.

“Have a drink,” he said.

He chugged his down as his eyes crossed between the mug handle to keep an eye on Felicity. She looked out of place despite her efforts to try and fit in. He noticed she looked more natural and less pampered than before, but people like her didn’t show up to places like Crown Pub. Sully noticed the old man woke from his dazed slumber to ogle the girl down. His eyes stretched out of their sockets like glass balls. The friends put their intense game of chess on hold, one of them turning in his chair to smile at the lady. The other dug his hands through his hair to look more presentable in his filth. Even the bartender turned a gaze as he dried clean mugs, prepping for a rush hour that would never come.

Sully inisited the mug again and practically forced Felicity to drink. As the mug of Watneys diminished, the eyes that lingered around the bar returned to their scheduled program. The old man drank the last of his beer and crashed. The duo in the back turned their chairs to continue their game. The bartender kept minding his business. Sully couldn’t help but smile at Felicity. Now she was fitting in.

He took her empty mug and his own and placed them at the bartop, leaving the tender a tip and a wink. He grabbed his jacket from the table and threw it over his shoulders before opening the front door for Felicity.

“C’mon,” he said.

The girl led them across the empty street towards an alleyway. It was cold outside so Sully found himself rushing. The door to the warehouse was on the side of the building. The front was a large chain operated gate door that when pulled, would open upwards on a rail system. Sully watched as Felicity dug out a gold key from her pocket. He kept his eyes down the alleyway to make sure no one was following them. He lifted his wrist, drew back his coat sleeve and looked at his watch.

“They’ll be here in ten minutes,” he said.

The door to the building swung open and the duo snuck in. The inside of the warehouse was surprisingly nice. The floors were sparkling clean, as though someone took the time to hand mop the place three times over. The row of stocking shelves that lined up near the back wall were all brand new. The steel was shiny and had no visible specs of rust. Felicity had done her due diligence. It was the first time Sully had seen it from the inside and was wildly impressed. His eyes glittered with excitement as he walked around the empty facility like a child lost at a toy store.

“Wow, this looks amazing. Nothing like the rest of this neighborhood. How did you manage to get your hands on this place?” He asked.

Sully walked down the aisles of stocking shelves and noticed fire extinguishers on some of the walls. She even took the time to follow safety regulations. Sully smiled.

“You’re very impressive.” He said.

He walked back towards her, getting uncomfortably close. He could feel the warmth of being in her proximity and her breath on his chest through his thin jacket. His smile faded and he became serious.

“Thank you for going along with this.” He said.

There was an awkward silence between them that could have been broken by the sound of their breath. Instead, Sully broke it with a question.

“Have you found anything about our attackers?”

Sully referred to the events that unfolded at the Gala weeks back. There had not been much talk between the families about who organized the attacks on the Walkers or what those people were looking to gain from it. Though Sully had a first person view on how it affected Felicity at the time. The girl had been targeted and almost killed had he not been there. She was also witness to her father almost being shot and her family friend Richard being injured. Things like that weren’t forgotten. On the contrary, like glass fragments, they lingered and were hard to clean up. Sully could sense how much that day affected Felicity and was no fool to think her recent kindness was a way of possibly making up for what happened that day. Sully was no stranger to self blame and could relate. After all, he felt it was his job to save his family from his father and believed that if he had not left those years ago, he could have done it sooner.

Misty Gray

 

[ReverseTex]

Temple Street Cafe
- Birmingham City Centre, Birmingham, England -
- Monday 1st December 1975 -
Misty Gray

Dr. Richard Finley

​

Richard sighed, knowing full well his nephew’s temper was a factor in his death. From an early age, he always had an insatiable vigor about him. As he grew older, it only worsened. He had Caroline’s fiery rage mixed with Robert’s stubbornness. A lethal combination. “Who my nephew was or was not doesn’t matter now. The living are left with the consequences, not the dead.” He replied distantly, staring at the table while Tony consulted his friend. He knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he might’ve felt bad for Marco. But, that grace he could not manage.

When Tony inquired further on the political matter, he refocused his attention on the situation at hand. The question, one he answered many times to lecture halls and pupils, brought a bit of comfort to the situation. “Why should you care?” He asked rhetorically, glancing out the window for a moment. “Who ensures the potholes are paved? Who makes sure every flat abides by fair living standards? Who’s in charge of maintaining the hospitals you rush to in an hour of need?” He posed, not wanting a verbal response but rather the young men to think for themselves. “At its core, politics isn’t a matter of right or wrong. It’s about finding a solution to a given problem.” Tony’s next question regarding Gerald was met with a somber nod, his mustache furrowing in distaste. “You’d be correct,” he said simply, not wanting to speak poorly of an indefensible soul.

To a point, Tony wasn’t wrong to say Robert created this mess. He sat silently, letting the boy lament about his frustrations. Robert certainly had a large hand to play in the matter, but the root cause was not what Tony thought. He was drawing naive conclusions. He lacked the true reason the feud began and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him… Tony and Marco bounced back and forth, discussing the possibilities of fleeing Birmingham. Had he been a younger man, he might’ve scoffed at the idea. But now, he sat patiently, watching Marco accept his fate.

“You two are right, it isn’t fair,” Richard interjected once the two men finished. “But you know what? That’s just how the world works, and you’ve got to suck it up and deal with it.” He knew this wasn’t a new concept for Tony, but he did good with a reminder. “You need to learn how to stop complaining and take action for your fate. Sitting here wallowing about the logistics of my nephew’s death doesn't solve the present issue, now does it?” His stern retort was directed at Tony this time. “If that’s what you want to do, then I'm wasting my time. You’d be no better than Robert if that’s what you want.” He knew that wasn’t Tony’s intention at all, but the reminder served to cool his temper. Richard wasn’t going to placate Tony’s temper. The young man was capable of much more if only he put his pride aside at times.

Nodding in affirmation to his request to protect Marco, he glanced over at the other man. “Robert will see reason. Once I'm in the office, there will be a level of comfort for him knowing I'm there. On the back end, I can make sure everything goes to plan. I’m a man of my word.” Richard promised. As much as he wanted to believe in his brother, a part of him worried he’d allow his emotions to blind his reason. Logically, Robert would support his idea to run for office. But following Gerald's death and the attack, there was an added risk. He'd be making himself a target in his own right.

 

[BasDorcha]

The Crown Pub

- Small Heath, Birmingham -​

Alfred Walker

Alfie had been cruising the city trying to clear his mind. Since the night of the Gala, he had been restless trying to figure out what had caused all of this. He also understood now the meaning of a true flashback - he had them daily now. He hadn't told a soul, he didn't need anyone thinking he was weak. So instead, when it started to bother him, he would hop in his car and drive around, focusing on the road to keep his mind from running wild. It was a Monday so not much was going on at the club, so he had cut out early - despite wanting to stay as close to Bonnie as possible. His left ear was still stuffy, though he had already spent 48 hours back and forth with the doctors doing whatever damage control they could. Each day he could hear a bit more, but luckily his right ear still worked fine.

As he was out driving, he spotted a familiar face. At first he wasn't sure he saw right, so he quickly made the block, coming back around and down the street slowly, eyes peeled. When he spotted Felicity, he was shocked. What was she doing here? And why the hell was she dressed like that? He'd never known her to dress down in public. Though, in her defense, once he thought about the area, he realized that she probably had made the smarter choice. Show up here looking like money and any one of the low level street thugs that didn't know her might make a mark out of her. He watched as she entered the pub and quickly did another circle of the block, parking a bit back from it so he could watch what happened.

At first, he was patient, just thinking maybe she was slumming it, but then the memory of everything that happened started to press on him again and he grew worried. Just as he was about to exit the car and enter the pub, Felicity exited again. This time she wasn't alone. He watched carefully, wondering who it was until suddenly a lightbulb went off in his head as he placed the face with a name. Sully Fletcher. What the fuck was she doing with Sully Fucking Fletcher? His initial instinct had been to rush them, but he took a deep breath and calmed himself, watching where they went. He was surprised to see them walking across the street towards what looked to be an old warehouse. When they disappeared down the alley beside it, he quickly climbed out of the car and rushed over. As he heard the voices echoing down the alley, he waited just out of sight. The sound of keys jingling filled his ears and then a door opening and closing.

What was his sister doing? Everything he had learned over the years was streaming like a river through his head, trying to figure out the best approach. Once their voices left, he creeped down the alley towards the door. Everything inside was muffled, he couldn't hear anything, but hopefully they were distracted enough not to hear him as he slowly, very slowly, turned the handle and pushed the door open just enough to cause a crack allowing the voices to carry out.

From there, he leaned his head against the frame, his one good ear pressed close to the crack to hear anything going on inside. His father would not be happy if he found out something happened to his sister, especially if Alfie knew and didn't stop it or at least find out what was going on.

Misty Gray - Felicity
BeyondDandy - Sully Fletcher

 

[Misty Gray]

The Crown Pub
- Small Heath, Birmingham, England -

Felicity Walker​

Being in the shithole of a pub made Felicity surprisingly grateful to set eyes on a member of the Fletcher family as Sully beckoned her over to him. As she reached him, she sent an amicable smile before fixing her eyes on the mug he was holding out to her. She accepted the drink but simply stared at the liquid as she held the handle. Even though he told her to drink it, her attention was for the moment more focused on the others present in the pub.

From the corners of her eyes, she noticed the old man staring at her. She couldn't help how automatic the judgements formed in her mind. Ones that the man in question was a lazy old letch who had nothing better to do than waste his time getting drunk on cheap alcohol. Then, with the chess players and the barman himself making a point of gluing their eyes on her, Felicity had to try hard not to react. She knew she had a habit of making her distaste clear, even without saying a word, so she had to consciously stop herself from rolling her eyes and showing any kind of antagonistic facial expression.

Sully once again urged her to drink, to which she complied, already feeling very out of place in the run down pub. She downed the beer, figuring the quicker it was gone, the less of it she would have to taste. As a conscious effort to blend in, she had grabbed the mug rather than holding it in any delicate or refined manner she normally would. By that point, she no longer felt the leering eyes on her.

Thankfully, there was no need to linger in the pub and Sully was keen for them to leave so they could get to the warehouse. When they reached the side door, Felicity retrieved the key. She instinctively looked over her shoulder before unlocking the door. She knew how risky this was, but she'd lived her life being cautious and not been given enough responsibility outside of managing the hotel. If she wanted to do her part, she knew she'd have to bypass asking for her father's approval and instead impress him with the eventual results of the venture.

Hearing the business associates would be there in ten minutes, she nodded her head once. On the inside, she was apprehensive about how the meeting would go down, but she tried not to show it to Sully.

Once inside the warehouse, Felicity stood with her arms folded for a short time as Sully looked around and marvelled at the warehouse. It might have been located in a shithole area of town, but she wasn't going to conduct business from inside a building that shared such attributes. She couldn't help but smirk when Sully enthused about the place. "I have money and contacts. It's probably best they remain my business," she assured him.

When he went on to tell her she was impressive, Felicity diverted her eyes down to the floor, clearing her throat as she tried to brush off the compliment. When he stopped close in front of her, she looked back up again, noticing how he was smiling at her. When he thanked her, she straightened her posture and maintained a stoic expression. "Well, we both have something to gain from this," she reasoned. Despite her bluntness, she found her eyes linger on him for longer than intended. He was standing up close to her and she hadn't made an effort to create more distance between them.

The long silence was soon broken when he asked if there had been any progress in finding who was behind the gala attack. "Nothing I'm aware of," she said, shaking her head. "They let Tony walk, and the men who were charged haven't given any clues as to who arranged the attack. That leaves us all at square one," she explained.

Felicity shrugged her shoulders. "I'm still not sure if I completely believe your brother is innocent in this, but I'm glad you were around to help me. I'm under no illusions about the scenarios that could have played out otherwise... me being the daughter of Robert Walker," she explained. "With your sister getting injured, I know it's not just my family who have been affected by all of this. Granted, it kind of feels worse knowing mine were the ones with targets on their backs!"

BeyondDandy (Sully) BasDorcha (Alfie)