Chapter Text
Shoot first, speak later.
It is what she's been shining for the past four years. She's been part of a gang that recruited her after one of their runners spotted her doing the death's trade. She'll never forget the day they held her at knifepoint and requested the reason for her sudden outburst on his son-in-law. Who, at the time, she didn't know was his son-in-law. But who cares?
She runs in the shadows. Walks in the open. Speak freely among the others because of her trades. She is one to never bite her tongue at sharp smites at her appearance. She's part of them now.
Although she was not a man, that did not stop her from nearly shoving a camera film down a guard's mouth and killing him by force lodged inside his throat. The sudden loss of air caused them to die from asphyxiation. It was not a pretty sight for him to see.
"Jade Thirlwall, was it now?" He exclaimed as he looked over at her. He watched as she removed the camera film from the man's throat. After it has collected quite the blood. Giving him the side-eye, she wipes the film clean.
"It is... for now... Marcus Gutierrez."
Looking away from them, she made her way out of the room. She made sure to make the exit quiet and leave them begging her to stay. She went out of her way to kill someone and did not even hesitate while doing it. She lost that the minute her friend was slammed into, right before her own two eyes.
It did earn her some respect among the others.
She walked, clinging to the walls. Tilting her head, she looked at the two standing by a board. They talked among each other, discussing what had happened between their friend group the past month or what could happen in just a few seconds.
Avoiding being seen as she spots them walking again towards the mark, she settles an hour beforehand. She wants to make them feel her pain. She knows it is a lot, but when it comes from an ill lady wanting cold-blood revenge on five people. She isn't risking anyone's life but hers.
Walking down the alleyway, she only heard the click of her ammo clashes amongst themselves. Eyeing the foes walking on the opposite side of her, they were approaching the setup she had in the center of the waiting area.
She wanted a scene and some commotion to show the world she was tired of these things being ignored. She could've just laid back and done nothing, but they decided to do the worst thing to her. They killed her best friend during a carpool ride. Then they ran to their parents and whined to have them take care of it. They were not even considering the witness who saw it all.
After all, she is the one who saw their faces.
Their names were unknown to her until they became known to her. It is like when a new piece of music is heard. Research is done to find out everything about it. Who it's by and why they made it. In her mind, no one knows the true intentions she had.
They don't know that she was killed for part of her life. She has been risking her life to protect the ones she kept close to her. Getting down to a crouch, she brings the gun to her side. She looked like any passerby—just one with memories and reasons.
She got up stealthily and walked to the next window to get a good shot of them. She brings out her camera and aims it in front of them.
"Cheese."
Jade slowly brought the camera down as she waved the picture in front of her. Pulling out her handgun, she held it by her side. Hearing a loud ringing sound, she watched as they quickly covered their eyes. Silly boys, they are lost. They don't know where the safe area is.
"Send my greetings to Elle Marques. Assholes..."
She was shooting the first man who tried to dash out of there. She watches as the man's blood falls and he hits the ground. The other man shakes his head as she hears his voice quaver.
"Y-you... I-I know- know yo- you!" He stutters out as he backs away. Slowly and unknowingly, bringing himself to the wall.
"Do you, love? I'm sure you don't know me. Plus, what are you going to say? The dead do not speak the last time I checked."
She is bringing the gun in front of her. She holds down on the trigger as a bullet flies from her weapon, hitting the side of the man's head. She stood over them as the man raised his hand to touch the lower region of her leg. He was begging her not to kill him.
This angered her, so she drew out her gun again and shot the man in the forehead. Blood tingles out from his frontal spot and oozes onto the ground. It was staining the once grayish-blue concrete.
Just as she requested.
Glancing around, she spotted no one in sight. She was looking back at the picture she had taken, photobombing her work. Maybe Gutierrez's contacts were high enough to dissolve everyone around these parts. She was looking
She ripped the right side with her face and body. She was leaving behind a dainty silhouette of the murderer. She places the picture inside the mouth of the first man. She was shaken when she heard shouts coming her way.
People must've heard the conversation, quite the loudmouth they were... It takes approximately thirty seconds to get out of the area. A minute if she is lucky. She is putting her hand camera back inside her bag. She slides her gun inside her jeans.
Taking a sharp right, she begins running towards the hotel she made a reservation before this under a different name.
She is removing the wig she had covering her natural brown hair. She throws it inside a giant trash bin. She was tossing in the gloves she had on her. Gazing back at herself, she brushes off some dust on her long coat. She was pulling out some shades to cover her eyes from the passersby.
Two down, one more to go before she calls it a life. There used to be five of them. The driver, the passenger, and the three in the backseat. Four guys and one mischievous lady. With very frazzled hair due to the speed at which they were going in.
Maybe it was the way she loved her hair to be. Nonetheless, she was one of the five who was a part of the hit-and-run of her best friend.
Walking inside the bar, she waves at the bartender as she makes her way to the apartments, with dual citizenship from the United Kingdom and Italy. She captured the traits of her late father.
Once notorious killer of Milan.
She requested a stay for a night here. She liked the music that the singers played. It was her dream to become a singer, but due to the circumstances. It could and will never happen.
She was staying under a fake name of hers. It is not a massive change of terms—just a simple switch to her fantasy name.
Eda Harper.
She dreamed of playing the harp once and sitting on a chair, slowly stringing along the strings, humming along to the tempo, and admiring who danced before her.
She wanted it to be that way; sadly, life is the fate of luck. She received her keys from the woman again as she approached her room. This is how South Shields run.
You stay quiet; you live.
She was throwing the camera bag over her head. She looks over at the picture she has of the two guys. She is almost in succession. She needs to find out where this one lady is at. Who is she? What is her name? Does she have any kids?
I mean, who cares if she has kids... She is part of the problem that is in my hands. She isn't let free just because she has kids. I hate her with all of my guts. She is the last one that I need. Who was she again? She feels like she heard her name somewhere. Jade knows that she has blonde hair.
She was bringing out her handgun from her jeans. She looks at it before grabbing a washcloth, slowly cleaning the sides of the gun, and leaving it sparkly clean and ridden of fingerprints. One that was of hers. Putting the weapon inside of long coat's pockets. She pats it before making her way to her bed.
Sliding into the bed, she pulls the covers over her. Who was that woman? Does she feel guilty for doing this to my friend? Does she even remember what happened that night?
She was thinking of finally putting her friend's broken soul to rest. To be able to say she got the vengeance she wanted. Gazing towards the ceiling, she drifts off to sleep.
Just the single minute she had of sleep. She heard her flip phone go off. Getting up sluggishly, she grabs her phone. "What?"
She rubs her eyes as she looks around the room. It was as still as a mouse can be because of a cat.
"Run; they are closing in on your location, Jade. Someone ratted you out. Someone knows who you truly are... Get the heck out of there!"
Lincoln Pierre is the one who runs comms over every single phone and line he can tap into. Now and then, he would check up on the police to see if there had been any traffic on the subject. After all, if she goes down... they all come down with her. She isn't sticking her head out to test for one.
To Lincoln's cue, she heard noises, and many angered folks. They must be waking up everyone for such a thing. Not like they didn't deserve it. She sits up on the bed before dashing to gather belongings. She didn't carry much. Just a camera, her handgun, and a purse. One that she stores all of her belongings that she can have.
She thinks before getting up and putting the camera around her body. He looks around to spot a balcony to her right. Maybe she can jump over and slide down from there to the ground. Jade puts on her coat and buttons it up. She can't afford to break her camera. It is one of a kind. Calvin made it for her when he heard that she was a photographer. Making the grand leap from one side, she looks down to spot a fire escape stairs. This must be Lady Luck on her side. She was running down the stairway and out of the building. She continued the way to Lincoln's apartment. Knowing well, it is just a block from where she was staying.