Forbidden Alliances // Alfie Solomons Peaky Blinders

(147) Solider-Spy

*edited 04/16/23*

She didn't know why she brought it.

For the same reason she couldn't understand why Michael was being brought along, she couldn't understand why she was bringing a gun. What was Michael supposed to do for Tommy? The same thing she was supposed to do with a gun?

Who the fuck did she think she was going to use it on?

There were no Italians, no Russians, no members of the secret service, no Coppers, not a single fucking enemy. So who the fuck did she plan on using it on? Who the fuck did she think she was going to protect? Who the fuck was she fighting for?

Every time she hit a bump in the road, the gun kept poking her in the back. Every cobblestone, every rock, every pebble continued to pester her; threaten her. It didn't go away. The entire time it took for her to drive out into the middle of Yardley where only trees and mud occupied her surroundings, Freya's mind clung to the idea of using that gun.

When she finally arrived, her belly was twisting into knots. Her hands were trembling and her body felt cold. She was terrified. She was so scared she wanted to scream but she couldn't. It was like she was restrained from moving. She couldn't cry, she couldn't scream, she couldn't do anything she wanted to do but rather carry out what orders she needed to follow.

She carefully exited her vehicle and rounded the backside of the building that she was sure would be covered in blood by midday. She feared it. She feared the reason, the outcome, all of it. She feared it all.

The building they used in their early days was left stagnant as a rusted old building made of brick and metal. It was used as storage for their tobacco and bootlegging trades, but since their clients started having American accents, and because Shelby Company Limited made enough income to afford better housing for their shipments, the place was left abandoned.

It was surrounded by untouched mud and the storm from the night before made everything slippery. There were trees blocking it off from a stream that led to the cut, and there was a field of dead grass on one side of the building that was yet to be sold by the company to ensure their privacy.

The place was secluded from the rest of the world. It was a perfect place to kill someone, Freya worried.

There were a total of four openings on either side of it. Built to allow traffic to breeze in and out, Freya couldn't go beyond the backside. She parked her car in the brush in hopes of staying hidden so her options for adventuring were scarce.

There were stacks of old boxes filled with rotten tobacco on the backside of the building along with empty glass bottles, empty wooden crates, discarded tarps, and other broken bits that weren't used in well over two years.

She hurried to take cover by the stacked boxes that reeked of mold and rotting wood. She kept her back to the metal platings on the outside of the open building and listened closely for any indication that she wasn't alone.

She closed her eyes and held her breath and tried her best not to be acknowledged.

It wasn't hard to hear the motor from inside. It didn't sound large and mechanical like an industrial engine, but perhaps a running car. She imagined them both inside. She tried to visualize it in hopes of filling in the blanks.

After all, she was running into this blind. She was relying on her trust in Michael. He's all she had to go off of. She didn't know anything for certain, but she had to try. She had to believe in something in order to know if she was wrong or not.

So, she peered around. She turned over the edge of the building and found nothing out of the ordinary. There were no cars, no people, no voices, nothing. It was just an open field and a lot of mud.