Wear Iron//Thomas Shelby

twenty four

Tommy and I sit at a table in one of the cafe's set up at the derby. I look at him curiously.

"Why do you look nervous, Tom?" I ask.

"I haven't been truthful with you," Tommy tells me.

I take a breath. "That's never good."

"Here. Take this. You might need it," Tommy tells me as he hands me a glass of whiskey.

"Tommy what exactly do you expect me to do?" I question.

"I need you to distract Field Marshal Russell," Tommy tells me. "And I need him to be separated from the crowd and taken to a quiet place."

I scoff, "A quiet place?"

"I just need you to isolate him is all," Tommy insists.

"And I'm sure you have quite the idea of how I should do that," I remark.

"Helena..." Tommy starts.

"You want me to lure him off by himself. Away from everyone else," I state. "Tommy, you want me to be a prostitute."

"No." Tommy shakes his head. "No. I have drawn a map, all right?" He hands me a piece of paper. "Just keep him busy at the place marked with an X and I'll get to you before he can start, I promise. All right?"

"Thomas Michael Shelby you are lucky that I do not break this glass in your eyes," I threaten.

"Helena, you just have to be alone with him at three when the race starts," Tommy tells me.

I grit my teeth. "I need a piece of chalk."

"Chalk?" Tommy questions.

"It's how the soldiers know. It doesn't matter. Just give me the fucking chalk," I demand.

"I promise you, Hel, I will get to you before it can start. I will be there," Tommy tells me.

I want to argue with Tommy. To walk away and leave him high and dry. Instead, I grit my teeth and use the chalk to write my price on the bottom of my shoe. It's barely a moment before I get Field Marshal Russell's attention.

I head off towards the toilets. Everyone is clearing out since the race is about to start. Field Marshal Russell follows me inside.

"What a pretty dress," Field Marshal Russell says as he starts to slip it down my shoulder. "Take it off."

I reach for the buttons of his jacket. "Shall we take this off first, shall we?"

"Lift up your dress and show me that you're clean," Field Marshal Russell instructs.

I force a smile. "Oh!"

Field Marshal Russell grabs me by the arms and shoves me backwards. "Do as you're told!" He forces me against a wall.

"We should take it slow. We've got all the time," I tell him.

Field Marshal Russell tries to force himself on me and I can't do it. I try to push him away.

"Bitch!" he shouts.

I try to get away from him, but he grabs me and forces me down onto my hands and knees. As he tries to hike up my skirt I try desperately to reach for the gun in the holster on my thigh. Finally, I can feel the gun in my hand. I blindly aim the gun back and shot the man in the leg. He falls backwards looking at me in disbelief.

"When a lady says stop you stop!" I shout.

"You fucking bitch!" he shouts.

I close my eyes and shot the gun once more. When I open my eyes Field Marshall Russell is dead and Tommy is standing there.