Conrad swung his trusty dragunov onto his back and climbed down the tower. A bottle of scotch sat on the table in front of Sticks. He held a glass up in the air as Conrad approached, "Come, celebrate."
Conrad raised an eyebrow in response and sat down at the table, "They're just about done setting up the traps. We'll have plenty left over to replace those detonated by rioters. Though, I'll try to take them out before they make it that far."
Sticks nodded, "How about ammunition."
"You made the proper precautions," Conrad placed his rifle on the table. "This gun alone has over 1,000 rounds dedicated to it."
"Good it's better to have an excess and not need them than to resort to throwing rocks. This is a good place to hold up, but it's not Stalingrad," Sticks took a swig of his scotch. "You should drink a bit. Loosen up. Might be our last chance."
Conrad shook his head.
"Your loss."
"What's the endgame here, sir? It seems to me that Lee has outmaneuvered you. Soon, everyone will be at each others' throats. What was the point of consolidating power among the gangs?"
Sticks smiled, "The idea was to have them damage the Wolves enough so that Azrael would understand the power and influence I wield and join me when this whole mess started. The Wolves are the only force strong enough to hit Lee's operation where it hurts and I was going to place all my bets on them, but now..." Sticks poured himself some more scotch. "Now they're no longer a factor, or rather they won't be for long. We don't even need to give the order anymore. When Lee's operation is felt by the Aryans and the Crips they'll march straight to the Wolves and likely throw themselves on what's left of their forces. In one fell swoop all of our allies will be dead."
Conrad sat in silence and analyzed Sticks' face as he spoke. He didn't seem all that upset, "So, we failed."
"Not quite," He leaned back in his seat and looked to the ceiling. "The only reason Lee resorted to this is because of me. I was too big an obstacle to simply maneuver around or move. Because of me, thousands of inmates are going to die before this is over. Even worse, at least a hundred or so wardens will meet their end as well. But, Sergeant, you must understand... I didn't condemn these men. It was Lee," Sticks' smile grew more nefarious as he let Conrad ponder his point. "Don't you see? Because of me, Lee's essentially doomed this entire place. This is the nuclear solution. By doing this he's sacrificed the moral high-ground and became no better than me. He's on my level now. Even if I die here before this is over... I've still won."
Conrad stood up and started for the clocktower as Sticks laughed to himself.
Psycho.
***************************************************************************************************************************************************************
So much had happened in such a short time. If she wasn't careful her thoughts could easily be consumed by grief. It was difficult, but she felt like it was the right thing to do at a time like this. Following Acolyte's example, Kusanagi sat up straight, cross legged, breathing in and out slowly. She was trying to clear her mind. Find her center.
Tristan lied on the ground watching with a smile. Though there was a rather severe lack of light in the room, he admired her toned muscles that she'd built while working the mines. Was she still the sister he remembered? Then he noticed it. A crude shiv sat on her lap. She must have stolen it off of one of the guards before being thrown in here.
Tristan's eyes widened and he reached for it. Without opening her eyes Kusanagi shot her hand out and grabbed Tristan's wrist, "Don't worry, brother... I will be fine," Despite how broken and defeated he was, she could see the worry behind his dead eyes. Kusanagi opened her eyes and offered a warm smile. "We'll make it out of here together. I promise."
