Chapter 2: Clean House
He woke to early to the sound of the furnace going on all cylinders. It was clunky and sounded dreadful, but it too was a relief to hear knowing he'd made it back to the industrial area. He remembered the stunning woman in blue and the orders from the boss.
He got a knock at his motel door, it was the house keeper Mr Brown. He was a jolly, plump man with a small moustache and an obvious bald patch on the top of his head.
"a mister chop says you're needed downstairs or the cut gets a bit more full" he said nervously.
"Tell chop I'll be down in a bit" he said reassuring Mr Brown.
He closed the door behind him and cleaned up a bit and put on a shirt and jacket as he already had pants and shoes on. A mystery to him why he was in bed with both still on.
He turned to the mirror to see a man of just under average build, very short hair with a three day shade. Built by the trenches and tossed back to the streets of industry with nothing but a "cheers mate but now you're a shit shoveller again"
His shirt was basic with three buttons near the neck, tough made pants and boots with a space for a knife. His jacket was cheap leather with deep pockets and a flat cap for a hat.
He made his way down the stairs to the lobby as he closed the door to his room and locked it. There waited a big man with what might be no neck but extra shoulder. It was chop, Mr blackjack's main muscle. If he was here it must be important.
"Bill your a lucky lad, boss has a word with you and you alone" Chop seemed to show no emotion as he finished.
"let's not keep him waiting" He said, heading out the lobby and towards outside world. It was noisy, people busy in every direction you looked. If they weren't transporting they were hammering or constructing something. He was interrupted by chop pushing him along. He was led to a factory where parts to ziplines and airships were being fabricated. Embers flew burning bright but no one seemed to be bothered and never got hit by one.
We went up some stairs and chop closed the door behind him. The chair behind the desk sung and there sat Mr Blackjack, a man of in my opinion overt taste in clothing. As he sat down Mr Blackjack looked at chop and chop left the room.
"you did good kid", he said looking casually his way "now you need to get your hands dirty. There is a lack of loyalty growing here and your my guy to fix it"
"where would I start?" he asked.
"good questions get good answers, here in thistle factory. Union bastard by the name of Ricky"
Ricky was also known as Ricky four fingers. He'd stolen from the slum kids and got off easy losing only a finger. He only got into the union by sleeping with the boss's wife who'd put in a good word for him.
It's time to clean house kid, Chop will direct some lads around to keep them distracted for a while. Now get out you stink" Mr blackjack pointed to the door.
Bill took his leave and was followed by Chop. He was sure chop had no idea whom was getting cleaned up.
"we start now lad" Chop said as we walked out of the factory.
"We need Four fingers to talk" Bill said, "he'll join the cut if he doesn't"
"why do they call you Bill Hatchet?" He asked Bill.
"a name from the trenches, nothing more" Bill said brushing off the subject.
He'd gotten the name after clearing out a trench with nothing but a pistol and a Hatchet shovel. That night changed him in a big way. He'd felt he lost his innocence that night. He was then on a cold bloody killer.
Himself and chop made it to drop point in the pier where six lads in rough clothing and labour builds were smoking and quietly chatting. They came to attention when Bill and Chop got close.
"alright lads, we need four fingers to talk or he gets the cut" Chop said pointing at two lads, "you two follow him like you're his shadow"
"the rest of you, follow whom he talks to outside the factory he works in" Bill said as he sharpened his trench knife on a crate given to him by one of the lads.
He gave him the look of of "I thought you sharpened it"
Bill knew this was just to pressure him into either confiding in shady people, making a runner or bumping into yours truly. He knew Chop could get the job done well, but he just didn't trust him. Then again he only truly trusted himself when it came to getting it done.
"any not so stupid questions?" Chop asked, "good now get it done"
Bill knew if Chop had his way he'd be leading the charge and making a bloody mess of the slums, four fingers, Mrs Blackjack and potentially Bill too. Chop used to be a shock trooper, he'd had an upbringing of violence where only the smart and strong thrive. Obviously he thrived.
Bill was paranoid though, he'd been put into positions where he had to take charge without getting the recognition for it nor respect afterwards. He was one of the lads army's secret weapons. Where did Mr Blackjack come into this?
He was once called Harold stone, a lad and black country patriot. Until he got the taste of living high. He changed his name, hired a small army on the fly and took the lads army by its short and curlies. Took it in any direction he saw fit. The lack of loyalty he sensed wasn't within the lass army but the army itself. He was no longer trusted. I was there to get closer and put a hatchet in his head, Chop's too if he was loyal to Harold or lashed out in the event of his passing.
Harold didn't remember Bill, that was his greatest asset. Shock combat would win this clean out fast. There'd be a clean out alright...a clean out of the manager and associates.
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