The Wilted Rose Book 2: Outlaws

Chapter 54: The Rich From The Poor

3rd Person Pov

Solitas Tundra

4:44 PM

Ironwood sat in the back of his airship, his hands cradling his head. The constant headache persisting since Weiss Schnee escaped all the way to that very moment. The reason? Jacques Schnee and his incessant blustering. It was enough to drive anyone mad. Eventually, he stopped answering his scroll, opting to screen the calls so he wouldn't have to listen to Jacques' screeching. It was the best decision he made in quite some time....

The contingent of soldiers he had with him all sat up straight and at attention. Alert and ready in the event that something goes awry. All but one of these soldiers were career military. The oldest one had just graduated basic and passed the screening program to join the specialists. He was a conscript.... The more appropriate term would be a draftee. 

Ironwood found himself loathing the fact that they had reached this point. This man had natural talent, but what of the hundreds of other draftees? Ranging from twenty-one to thirty, most of these people had done their mandatory service before leaving, only to be forced right back in. Ironwood found it regrettable, but also knew that something was coming. Atlas needed as many combatants as possible. 

It was a horrid state of affairs that only made his headache worse. The only relief he could take was that he was going to talk to a old "Friend". The Rose boy made a mess in Vale and something told Ironwood that he had something to do with Havens attack. With Ozpin dead and the circle scattered, he took it upon himself to go ahead and begin.... "Weeding out" the undesirable from the group. 

Glancing out the window of his airship, he saw their destination. An Atlassian blacksite where Ironwood kept the more high profile inmates. Be it domestic terrorists to Huntsmen who were charged with treason for one reason or another. All found their way to this blacksite. The location was off the books, and knowledge of it was only permitted to the council, and the soldiers assigned to either work there, or as a contingent force escorting someone there. 

The airship landed smoothly and the soldiers with Ironwood opened the door, allowing the General to exit. The landing pad was out in the open, with several towers surrounding the area. About six hundred feet away was the front gate connected to a eleven mile stretch of dirt track. There was no escape from this place. There was no entrance to this place without express permission. And anyone who tried, intentionally or not, were shot on sight. No one could know this place exists. 

Ironwood began his walk through the open area. He observed as he walked, watching for any breaches in security. He was pleased to see that there was none. Opening the door, he was met with several armed soldiers standing behind bars, denying entrance to outsiders. To his left was a window, a soldier standing there watching the Generals every move. 

Soldiers: Weapons and papers. 

Ironwood complied, finding amusement in the fact that they all knew who he was, but still treated him as a outsider. He was proud to see his men doing their jobs to the highest standards. Truth be told, had they not checked Ironwood as he walked in, he would have chaptered all of them out of the military. Security is just as important as secrecy. There can be no lenience allocated to either. 

Soldier: You'll receive your weapons upon your return. Proceed. 

The General took his papers back as the bars opened. Stepping through, he was met with a pristine common room that split into several halls all around. Wardens office, HR department, communications, and the one he was interested in, visitation. Ironwood chuckled at the sign every time. It wasn't visitation so much as interrogation.