Alone in a corner of the bar, Zahi had her own bag of loot - of sorts - to turn in. This wasn't a normal haul, however; Zahi Akello didn't mess about with the everyday thieving that the other Soot Wolves carried out. In the plain linen bag at her feet was a collection of possessions of the late Red Jackal, the now-stiff leader of the Blood Wolves.
A dark amber whisky sat untouched in front of her in a clear glass tumbler. Her mind was elsewhere, and she appreciated - as always - the wide berth typically given to the visible Blood Wolves. There were only a few people that she was interested in hearing from at the moment. Waiting to hear what would come of recent events.
It had been a bad job from the start. She could just feel it. Diligent and ruthless, she'd carefully positioned herself close to the Red Jackal. That night, they were going to deal with the head a growing gang, a small operation dealing in illicit trade that needed to be brought in line. It was an arranged meeting, which she already didn't like. Zahi's preference would have been to ambush the head of the operation when he was alone, or near, and slit his throat. The rest would fall into line after that. Absorbed into the guild.
As it happened, however, this particular character was an old friend of the Red Jackal. Ran around together as kids, or something, stealing people's coin purses. Zahi didn't like it. She didn't particularly believe in friendship when the stakes were low, but certainly not at all when business was involved. In general, she respected her leader, but now she was beginning to doubt him. This, she was certain, was a clear weakness on his part.
The nagging discomfort didn't cease when the Red Jackal and the crime boss began negotiating a tithe deal to be paid to the Soot Wolves in exchange for continued independent operation. This was not what they had come here to do. Their function was to intimidate and extinguish anyone who got in the way of the guild, not to cut deals with them. Zahi stayed silent through the entire meeting. She had nothing to contribute to this.
She absent-mindedly swirled her glass. She had no regrets over what she had done that night. Her former boss had proved himself a fool, and a weak one. She had no respect for either.
Whatever emotional tendency the Red Jackal had towards this man, however, it was not mutual. After the deal was struck, the pair were ambushed when they had gotten up to leave. The first thing Zahi did was leap back from the thugs to cut open the bosses throat. Too quick for his henchmen. Both blood wolves were serious fighters, and while they were forced to flee, escaped the organization's lair.
They were not far, out in a narrow, winding alley when the Red Jackal gasped out, "Akello!"
Zahi turned to see the man slumped against a wall. He was bleeding badly. She was cut-up and bruised as well, and in pain, but as soon as she looked at him she knew the Red Jackal would not survive on his own.
"Akello," he croaked, slumping down onto the ground now. "I can't make it back to the Den. You have to get help back here."
Zahi looked at him for a long time. Oh no, she was not going anywhere. Slowly, she walked over to him and after a long silence, said calmly, "I don't think so. This is your doing, Red Jackal," she spit the name. She wiped blood from a cut across the side of her face and flicked it onto the hunched man. "If you are strong enough to live, live. If you're too weak, then die."
The Red Jackal's glare was full of hate. Maybe he'd expected some sort of personal loyalty from the woman. But her loyalty was not personal. She respected strength; that was what she was loyal to. Something he no longer showed. But there was nothing he could do to her now. Both were too banged up to fight each other.
Aware that they were at risk of being tracked, Zahi crouched down - careful of the pain in her body - opposite of the dying man. The clock was ticking before they would be found. But she wasn't worried. He had lost too much blood. It wouldn't be long.
"But don't worry," she assured him coldly, "I won't let those thugs kill you. I'm going to wait right here for you to die. No one will be able to say they killed the feared Red Jackal. No one but you."
And that is exactly what she had done. She had waited for the man to die, taking his belongings - everything was valuable - when he finally did. Leaving him naked and broken in the street. That was the bag now at her feet.
No word had been released yet about who the next leader of the Blood Wolves would be. She wasn't sure yet how many people knew what had happened, that the Red Jackal was dead.
She was still pretty banged up. The coagulated cuts and bruises marred her dark skin, and anyone who looked twice at her would be able to tell she'd been in quite the fight. Well, there was one way to curtail the lingering pain. Finally, she took a sip of her whisky. Nothing to do now, but wait.
