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Five hours later......
Bleep...bleeeeep...bleeeeeep...
The phone vibrated across the wooden table stirring Dusk awake from her alcohol induced sleep. She licked her dry lips as she slowly rolled her head off her arm the she used as a pillow, she felt like shit, clearly she was developing the hangover from hell. Blinking a few times she managed to focus her eyes on the three quarter empty bottle of whiskey still sitting in front of her.
Bleep......bleeeeep......bleeeeeeep..... Her phone sounded like an oversized wasp on the timber table, she grabbed it and answered it groggily.
"What"
"I heard what happened, are you okay?" It was an older mans voice on the other end- deep, serious and one she knew intimately.
Dusk sat up looking at her injured arm, cleaned and bandaged luckily not needing any stitches.
"Mmmmm..... Yeah, I guess.....It was New Order wasn't it?" She questioned.
"Yes"
"Do you know why?"
"Not yet"
"Amed.....it was a fucking slaughter"
"I know but you got out"
"Barely..."
There was an uncomfortable silence as she waited, wanting him to comfort her with kind words.
"Did you get my package?" Was the question that broke the silence.
Dusk dropped her head and sighed wanting to hang up on Amed right there and then but she couldn't bring herself too. She lifted her eyes to the table, it was covered in a mess of paperwork, photographs and maps of the city, she shuffled them around until she found the A4 sized orange envelope. She picked it up earlier yesterday but hadn't had a chance to view its contents.
"Yeah... I got it here now, what about it" she tore open an end and emptied the documents in front of her. She began sorting through, most of the New Order watermark pages were lined with thick black marks covering certain words and sentences, others were neatly hand written and the last few were black and white surveillance photographs.
"Good... Good, have you read through them" Amed enquired.
"Yeah yeah" she lied, she would look over them a little later when she didn't feel so hungover.
"We need to locate Mr Marcus Brenada"
Holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder she picked through the photographs slowly, each of them showing the same three men engaged in a conversation. The first two she just glanced off but the third her eyes steadied and widened. Surely not.
"No fucking way" she gasped quietly as she recognised the grim looking young man from the bar at the club.
"What's wrong?" Amed spoke a little surprised.
"What did you say his name was?" She chewed on her lip.
"Marcus Brenada"
Dusk recalled a woman calling him 'M' when he was pulled him away from the bar before he pleaded for her to get people out.
"Dee?"
Dusk slapped the photos down and poured herself a the remains of the bottle of whiskey in last nights glass.
"I think I know where to find him..."
Bleep...bleeeeep...bleeeeeep...
The phone vibrated across the wooden table stirring Dusk awake from her alcohol induced sleep. She licked her dry lips as she slowly rolled her head off her arm the she used as a pillow, she felt like shit, clearly she was developing the hangover from hell. Blinking a few times she managed to focus her eyes on the three quarter empty bottle of whiskey still sitting in front of her.
Bleep......bleeeeep......bleeeeeeep..... Her phone sounded like an oversized wasp on the timber table, she grabbed it and answered it groggily.
"What"
"I heard what happened, are you okay?" It was an older mans voice on the other end- deep, serious and one she knew intimately.
Dusk sat up looking at her injured arm, cleaned and bandaged luckily not needing any stitches.
"Mmmmm..... Yeah, I guess.....It was New Order wasn't it?" She questioned.
"Yes"
"Do you know why?"
"Not yet"
"Amed.....it was a fucking slaughter"
"I know but you got out"
"Barely..."
There was an uncomfortable silence as she waited, wanting him to comfort her with kind words.
"Did you get my package?" Was the question that broke the silence.
Dusk dropped her head and sighed wanting to hang up on Amed right there and then but she couldn't bring herself too. She lifted her eyes to the table, it was covered in a mess of paperwork, photographs and maps of the city, she shuffled them around until she found the A4 sized orange envelope. She picked it up earlier yesterday but hadn't had a chance to view its contents.
"Yeah... I got it here now, what about it" she tore open an end and emptied the documents in front of her. She began sorting through, most of the New Order watermark pages were lined with thick black marks covering certain words and sentences, others were neatly hand written and the last few were black and white surveillance photographs.
"Good... Good, have you read through them" Amed enquired.
"Yeah yeah" she lied, she would look over them a little later when she didn't feel so hungover.
"We need to locate Mr Marcus Brenada"
Holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder she picked through the photographs slowly, each of them showing the same three men engaged in a conversation. The first two she just glanced off but the third her eyes steadied and widened. Surely not.
"No fucking way" she gasped quietly as she recognised the grim looking young man from the bar at the club.
"What's wrong?" Amed spoke a little surprised.
"What did you say his name was?" She chewed on her lip.
"Marcus Brenada"
Dusk recalled a woman calling him 'M' when he was pulled him away from the bar before he pleaded for her to get people out.
"Dee?"
Dusk slapped the photos down and poured herself a the remains of the bottle of whiskey in last nights glass.
"I think I know where to find him..."