[attr="class","hth"]

There's blood on his hands. The delightful jingle of elevator music failed to soothe the agitation that arose from the stickiness.[break][break]

Desmond breathed. “This was an embarrassment,” and his handkerchief was stained beyond redemption. It would do little to remove the stain... so, he smeared the mess against the closest grunt. The black of the uniform would not show the stains. His hand delivered a hard press, not subtle, as he lorded his height over the man. He wanted him to smell the mint on his breath and feel the tremor of his voice as he spoke low and slow.[break][break]

In a crowded elevator, there was nowhere for the grunt to hide; his fellow comrades ranked close to the back wall, cramming themselves against it, as they let him suffer through Desmond's lecture and let him act as his personal towel. “Clean up. You have fifteen minutes until the boss arrives. Try to redeem yourselves.” If they valued their lives, they would listen.[break][break]

There was a ding. His hands were clean as the men vacated the square space, leaving Desmond to sit and stew as the music began to play once more; the metal box dropping down the shaft to the lower levels of this storage facility, to the foyer, to the exit.[break][break]

Shifting focus from Kanto had come with its challenges. Resources had to be imported. Boats could easily smuggle the necessities, so long as they were indiscreet and the right paperwork was in order. Small batches; irrelevant junk to the eyes of the League officials that may have felt curious. It was not Desmond's job to handle these operations; but, he certainly benefited from them. On a cold night, he came to collect.[break][break]

And what did he find? A mess. Their cover had been blown. Someone, somewhere, had felt ballsy and had asked too many questions. The grunts got twitchy. By the time Desmond had arrived, he found himself partaking in the fun. He sneered to himself, trying to tuck the incident from his mind. It was not supposed to happen. Everything had been carefully crafted and yet, someone, somewhere, had managed to ruin it.[break][break]

The goods were shoved in the back of a van with the bodies. They cleaned their mess at the docks and drove to the nearest place–a call was made to the closest cleaner and the boat was driven out of port. Records of its arrival were stripped clean from the books. Three dead men in bags would soon find themselves disposed. If the League were to investigate, it'd be impossible to tell what had happened... but, they would guess. Their guess would be correct.[break][break]

The Hoenn League was twitchy. They had seen what had happened across the waters.[break][break]

Stepping out from the storage facility, he'd let the men unpack. Desmond felt the cold air, felt the blood that caked the side of his face, and stared out at the moonlit waters as they rolled; a force that was indifferent to the desecration that had taken place.[break][break]
tags SILAS BLACKWELL