When we get inside, I am somewhat relieved to see that there is plenty of machinery and equipment that we can use for cover. We silently move forward. Alaric is moving with purpose, and I am assuming that he knows where we are going. At least, I hope he knows where we are going. The inside of this factory is almost as maze-like as the roads were to get up to it.
Getting lost in this place would be incredibly easy, and it would take someone hours if not longer, to find you. That worries me a lot. The place seems as deserted as everywhere else. At least, that is what I think until we hear voices. Alaric motions us forward slowly so we can get eyes on who is talking.
Chapter Three
Atlas
As far as I am aware, we were only meeting one informant, so the fact that we can hear more than one voice is a massive red flag. We manage to get into place so that all of us have a view of what is going on.
This is not good at all.
Blake stands over a cowering man, who I am assuming is the informant.
“We know you have been talking to people you shouldn’t,” Blake says in that deceptively calm voice of his.
He has four other men with him, but none of them are my father. My gaze takes in the surrounding area as I check for anyone else hidden in the shadows, fortunately I don’t see anymore.
“I-I-I haven’t,” the informant stutters.
Blake laughs, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine, “You just decided to take a drive to an abandoned warehouse for fun?”
The guy nods rapidly, “Y-yes, I like to explore abandoned buildings.”
Blake’s eyes flash with anger. He asks again, “You haven’t been giving information to our enemies?”
I don’t know why he is so dead set on getting the guy to admit that is what he has done. I honestly don’t think that the informant's answer will change what Blake is going to do.
Blake likes killing; he gets some sick and twisted enjoyment from it, and he doesn’t even need an excuse to kill. So, now that he is being presented with a traitor and a perfect reason to shoot someone, he is very unlikely to pass that up.
My mind spins with possible ways that we can get the guy out of this alive. There are six of them, including Blake and three of us, so the odds aren’t great.
Keep him talking, I silently beg. If he can keep Blake talking for a bit longer, one of us might be able to think of something because I know for a fact that I am not the only one who is trying to come up with a way that we can save the informant without losing our own lives.
“I haven’t, I swear,” he replies. “I would never do that. I am loyal.”
Blake shakes his head, “We have proof that you have been talking to someone. I want to know who!”
Ah, that explains it.
Blake knows that the guy has been giving out information about them that he shouldn’t have, but his own informant clearly isn’t that good because he has no idea what information has been given out and who, too. I’m assuming that he doesn’t know what information because if he did, it wouldn’t take much for him to realize that the information was being given to us just because of the kind of information that we were interested in.
“I haven’t given information to anyone,” the informant whimpers, “I’m loyal to Liam.”
I don’t know why, but that was clearly the wrong thing to say as Blake’s eyes fill with unfettered rage. That is an odd reaction; Blake should be happy that he is loyal to Liam; after all, that’s who Blake works for. Without Liam, Blake wouldn’t be where he is now; with the power that he has and people who listen to what he says when he orders them to do something, he would have none of that if it weren’t for him. He would be a psychopath and most likely out murdering people, but he wouldn’t have people to back him up and for him to control, not like he does now.
He should be thanking the guy, not getting as angry as he is. It makes me think that there is something more going on here, something that we aren’t aware of and perhaps something that no one is aware of. Maybe that’s what the informant was going to tell us, although you would have to wonder why he would say he was loyal to Liam if he knew that it would be something that would make Blake mad.
Unless he knows or hopes that we are here and he is trying to tell us something without outright, telling us it and giving away that we are here. That seems like a little bit of a stretch, but I suppose anything is possible.
Blake has clearly had enough, he raises his gun, and I know that I’m out of time to come up with a way that I can help. This is not good at all, but we are outgunned, and there is no way that we could get to the guy in time to save him without losing our lives, too. None of us can beat a speeding bullet, and it happens so fast that none of us can even process what has happened until after the informant falls to the floor, a bullet hole in his head and blood spreading around him rapidly.
Fuck.
Blake starts to turn toward his men, no doubt to tell them that they need to clear the scene and move the body. When his eyes land on where we are hiding behind the machinery, we are pretty well hidden, but if we can see him, then there is a good chance that he can see us.
He narrows his eyes, and I share a look with the other two. We have two options: stay where we are and hope that he doesn’t see us and is more concerned with removing the body of the informant, or we get up and make a break for it, hoping that we can get out of the door and to the car before one of us gets hit with a bullet.
The decision is taken out of our hands.