Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(88) Dig a Little Deeper

*edited 03/22/23*

"What does this have to do with being with Alfie?" Freya asked incredulously. "What does that even mean?" she shot him a judgemental stiff lip. "Being with him without being with him..."

"Well if you don't want them killing him in his sleep, your best bet would be to keep some distance until this deal is sealed."

"It's already sealed, Tommy."

"It's not," he corrected her. "There's always more with these Russian fuckers." He took a swig from his glass and folded his hands over his waist.

"Right," she said absently, growing suspicious and ignoring his warning about Alfie since she had already taken those percussions. "And what have you gotten us into now?"

Tommy smirked and scoffed, chuffed with her mockery because that meant she had returned to a more normal state of mind.

"I want you to do some research into the Lanchester Motor Company. Get an employment list and do some background on Nutley. That much hasn't changed. We rob the war efforts, store them, then send them off to the Whites to fight their little war in Tbilisi. Now," he took another drag from his tobacco and stuffed it into the ashtray beside their glasses, "as I said, there are people in this country who have become interested in fighting this war. That includes the King, Churchill, the obvious runaways, and Section D-"

"I'm sorry," Freya scoffed. "I'm gonna give you one chance to tell me I'm delusional because I could've sworn I just heard you say Section D." Her tone was strung out and harsh and even though that provoked an aggressive response, Tommy was happy that she was acting like herself again.

"They're working directly with these grand dukes and duchesses. There is no way around it."

"And what exactly do they want from us?" Freya crossed her legs and leaned forward with interest. "Since," she put her hand up respectfully, only, she was being sarcastic as she did so, "I can tell there's more to this little plan that you've come up with all on your own."

Tommy rolled his eyes and suddenly he was right back to being a twelve-year-old boy, being scolded and made fun of by his nine-year-old sister for doing something that could have been avoided if he had just let the brilliant idea of his leave his head for a second.

He almost laughed at the familiar feeling.

"They think they're stopping a revolution," Tommy said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry," she winced as she satirically responded to his unintentionally offensive comment. "British Parliament think they're the enemy and you wanna tell me the Kings helping the Russians while the Russians are helping Section-fucking-D?"

"Mmhm," he agreed, his brows shooting upward with humor. "You don't miss a thing," he drew out drearily, turning sarcastic to match his sister's tone. "As of right now, I have no bloody clue what they're wanting from us. I have a meeting scheduled on Sunday morning with a Father John Hughes, who, heh, apparently does the speaking for the fuckers."

"And you think it's safe being it's you who will be surrounded by what? Five? Ten? Twenty professionally trained soldiers and politicians who lie for a living?" she pronounced enthusiastically.

"It's scheduled to be at the scrapyard," he drew out with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.

"Right," she sighed. "Seeing as it's you, I know there's more. So what is it?" She sat back.

"A robbery."

Freya stared at her brother dumbly. "Do I look incompetent? You just spent fifteen minutes telling me about the bloody robbery." She furrowed her brows, narrowed her eyes, and left her lips agape.