Run Little Rat
Grimm started the car, he didn’t speak and neither did Sulien. The wheels rolled slowly at first , crunching over the dried scattered leaves, before the vehicle eased into the main road. Only the low purr of the engine filled the silence between them.
Sulien sat in the back seat, one of his hands was draped against the window frame. His gaze followed the passing scenery lazily. Still in a good mood, his finger tapped lightly against his knee.
Ring!
The shrill ring of the car’s Bluetooth rang softly in the car. Grimm flicked his eyes toward the display. The name, Rafe, flashed across the screen, then he immediately pressed the answer button on the steering wheel.
“Sir,” a man’s voice crackled through the speakers. It sounded sharp and urgent, but it was muffled by the roar of the wind. “Is the boss with you?”
Sulien didn’t bother to shift from his position. He just glanced over to the front, his eyes on the rearview mirrors.
“Speak.” His voice cut in before Grimm could answer.
There was a brief pause at the other end of the line, as if the caller had straightened up his spine at the weight of that single command. Not long after, Rafe spoke again, this time with the weight of knowing he was talking with his boss.
“It’s Smith, boss. He’s making a run for it. Slipped the watch near Tilbury. We spotted him heading for the docks, looks like he’s trying to buy his way out with a boat.”
The words sank into the air like stones breaking water. Grimm’s hands tightened around the wheel, the tendons of his arm rigid in the dim light.
“Haaaaaa….” A low sound slipped from Sulien’s throat. It was more of a half laugh, half sigh kind of sound, but the corners of his mouth didn’t curl up in amusement but in hidden anger.
He leaned back slightly, his fingers brushing the seat until they found the light weight of his lighter. He briefly lit up his cigar he got from his cigar box and inhaled deeply through his lips, letting it calm his insides.
He tossed the lighter carelessly. The smoke he blew out quickly filled the car. The anger had not left him, but it was replaced with this certain calmness that followed with it. His smile lingered while his eyes darkened, half lidded.
Dorian Smith.
Two nights before the gala, the man had dangled upside down in Sulien’s cellar like a slab of meat, his voice hoarse from pleading for mercy. He was the rat who was meant to deliver him into Councilman Korran’s inner circle as it was his last chance at redemption.
And now, that same pleading rat was gnawing at the ropes Sulien had tied around his throat, desperate for escape.
“Tilbury. How convenient,” he murmured while blowing smoke.
It was the fact that the rat was stupid enough to pick a dock close to London. Was he actually stupid or just lazy?
Did he want me to catch him? Sulien thought.
“Well, running only makes the hunt more exciting.” He thought out loud.
At the other end of the line, the man waited patiently for his boss to tell him what to do next. While Grimm continued to drive, already heading for the docks.
“Hold him,” Sulien finally said. “But don’t touch him. If he gets on the boat before I get there, just prepare that thing for me. He’s mine”
The silence that followed was heavy. That thing. Both Grimm and Rafe knew what Sulien was talking about. But the fact that the item was going to be tested on the runaway Smith, they couldn’t help but offer a silent prayer for him. The man truly was unlucky.
“Yes boss.”
Then the line went dead.
The car surged forward, eating up the road. Outside, the smell of salt began to creep in through the windows, mingling with the bitter tang of smoke that clung to Sulien’s clothes.
He tilted his head back against the seat, his eyes closed and voice low, almost amused.
“He must think me blind.” He said. He was trying hard not to let that filthy rat get under his skin, so he forced his thoughts elsewhere. Towards something that would ease him. He instinctively thought of Snow.
The memory of his annoyed face. The way he puffed up like a cat whenever he was even slightly teased, his pouting lips.
An almost inaudible ragged curse escaped him. “...Fuck.”
Sulien drew from his cigar again, then blew another puff of smoke. Heat gathered beneath his skin, moving downward until even the fabric of his trousers seemed to wear tight all of a sudden.
He cursed under his breath again, dragging a hand through his hair. Maybe thinking of Snow wasn’t such a great idea after all. The thought alone had his body reacting in ways he didn’t need right now. The cigar burned lower and lower between his fingers, smoke thinning out until it finally gave up and died, ash crumbling onto the seat.
The car sped on and within forty minutes, they could already hear the waves clashing along with the distant groan of ships. Getting closer, they could hear something else drifting from the harbour. It was the sharp sounds of gunfire.
Grimm’s eyes narrowed, immediately put into action. He spotted a few of their men first. They were crouched low, some pinned down to the ground by flashes from the other side. Without hesitation, he yanked the wheel, the car skidding into a rough drift as it rounded the corner close to the firefight.
The sharp crack of pistols tore through the night, chased by the rattling burst of automatics, and over all, the deafening sounds of gun fire filled the air. Bullets snapped off metal, ricocheting into the dark.
Sulien stepped out of the car like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. His hand brushed over his sleeve, smoothing the cuff of his shirt. His eyes calm as bullets sparked off the metal of a shipping container at the far back. He leaned back into the car casually, picked up his cigar box, and started feeling around for his lighter.
“Cover him,” Grimm barked at the men, already drawing his weapon. He quickly got out of the car and stepped in beside Sulien, firing two rounds into the shadows in front of the containers a few feet away. A man dropped beside it, his body folding with a dull thud against the asphalt.
Sulien barely spared it a glance. His focus stayed on the empty space in the car seat, his irritation growing deeper.
“Grimm,” he called over the roar of gunfire, “where the fuck is my lighter?”
Grimm whipped his head at Sulien. “Boss…” His voice was half incredulous, half furious as another bullet whirred past. “Now is not the time.”
Sulien ignored him. He walked over and crouched over the body Grimm had just dropped. His hands searched briefly, feeling around his body, but there was nothing. He pinched his brows in growing irritation.
“Even in death, you’re useless.” he muttered, pulling back from the corpse.
Grimm swore under his breath, firing again. “Boss, we’re kind of in a situation right now.” Seeing Sulien’s apathetic expression, Grimm’s jaw clenched. “Let’s wrap this up and I’ll buy you a whole damn box of them.”
Sulien didn’t say anything else, just whistled, signalling for his men. Rafe who was among them, looked over at Sulien and immediately knew what he was asking for even without him saying it.
He quickly ran over and got a long heavy case from inside a vehicle and rushed over with it, making sure he was taking cover too.
“Boss.” Rafe called, his voice sounding urgent.
He laid the case on the floor at Sulien’s feet, waiting for further instructions.
“Location.” Sulien clipped.
“He’s at the south side of the harbour. He’s about to board the boat under the cover of his goons” Rafe reported without hesitation.
“Mn.” Sulien hummed and flicked open the case. The gleaming black length of a sniper rifle greeted him.
Sulien whistled in approval. He ran his hand down the barrel, his smile slow and venomous.
“Time to exterminate vermin.”
The Author has Something to Say
Rafe (Handing a long case over to Sulien): Boss.
Sulien (Casually taking out a sniper): Good job.
Dorian (Incredulous): Fuck! Big brother, it's not that serious. I surrender.