Criminal Breath | Peaky Blinders x Red Dead Redemption

Chapter 20

They swam through the murky waters, their eyes peeled for any glint of gold. The water was filled with floating debris, making it difficult to navigate. Dutch's gang pushed aside charred wooden beams and shattered crates, their faces twisted with the effort of holding their breath and the growing dread that the gold was lost. Tommy's heart sank as they reached the center of the warehouse, and still, there was no sign of their prize.

Breaking the surface, they gasped for air, the cold water mixing with the heat of their frustration. They searched in vain, their eyes adjusting to the darkness, hoping against hope that the gold was somehow hidden from sight. The water grew colder, the air thicker with smoke and the acrid scent of burning wood. They felt around the submerged floor, their fingertips scraping against the silt and stone.

"It's not here," one of Dutch's gang murmured, his voice echoing through the ruined space.

"Keep looking," Tommy snarled, his eyes searching the murky water. "It has to be."

"But how?" another man from Dutch's gang retorted. "The explosion, the fire..."

Tommy's eyes narrowed, and he turned to John, the tension in his voice palpable. "You said you had a plan."

John nodded, his gaze never leaving the water. "I did," he replied, his voice measured. "But I didn't know the gold has apparently disappeared. I have no idea how they moved it out so quickly."

Dutch's eyes flashed with anger. "You're telling me we've come all this way, fought all these battles, lost men, for nothing?"

John's voice was calm, almost soothing. "I'm saying the gold isn't here. We need to regroup and reassess. Someone took it, either the King's guards, the Cops or the Italians."

"Or it could be a set-up," Dutch spat, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Peaky Blinders. "You lot knew about this tunnel. Maybe you had it all planned from the start."

Tommy stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You question my loyalty now, Dutch? I want that gold as much as you do, maybe more. It's the price of Arthur's life."

Dutch's expression softened, a hint of remorse in his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice gruff. "But we're in deep here. We've got the law, the Italians, and now it seems, someone's playing us for fools."

Tommy's jaw clenched, the cold water stinging his eyes. "We find out who took it, we get it back. That's the deal, Dutch."

Dutch studied him for a moment, the flickering light playing across his scarred face. "Fine," he said finally. "But if it's one of your lot, you're the first to know."

Tommy nodded, the cold water making him feel more alive than he had in days. "And if it's yours, you do the same."

Dutch's eyes narrowed. "You've got yourself a deal, Tommy. Now, where do we start? With the Italians? Or with the Cops?"

Tommy's gaze remained steely. "We start with the one who knows the streets best. The one who can navigate the corrupt maze of Liverpool like it's the back of their hand."

John Marston stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a newfound determination. "That's not telling us much, Dutch. Both, the Cops and the Italians know this place very well. Be more precise."

Tommy nodded in agreement. "We need information, solid intel. We can't go in blind. We can't just storm every police station and kill everyone in there, we also can't just attack the Italian's mansion. We don't know who has the gold, we need to find that out before we make our move."

Dutch, still treading water, his eyes never leaving Tommy's, considered this. "Actually, I find the idea of attacking the Italians and burning down their goddamn mansion very appealing. They burned down our warehouse, so we'll burn down their mansion."

Tommy sighed, the water around them growing colder. "We need to be smarter than that, Dutch. We can't just go in guns blazing without knowing what we're walking into."

John interjected, his voice echoing off the wet stones. "He's right. We need a spy. Someone who can get close to both sides, find out where the gold is, and who's holding it."

Dutch looked at him, the fire in his eyes fading into something akin to respect. "A spy," he murmured. "That's a dangerous game."

"But one we know well," said Tommy, his voice steady. "We've played it before. And if it means getting our gold back, it's one we're willing to play again. What about your guy? What was his name again? Archie?"

John's gaze grew troubled. "Archie," he repeated. "Yeah, he was with us. Where the hell is he? He was there when the meeting happened..."

Dutch's eyes searched the darkness, his mind racing. "Could he have turned? Maybe he's the one who tipped off the Italians? That goddamn bastard..."

Tommy's hand shot out, grabbing Dutch's shoulder and pulling him closer. "Calm down, Dutch," he snarled. "We don't know what happened to him. Could be dead, could be working with the enemy. Could be anything. But you don't want to talk like this about a man that possibly died for us."

Dutch's eyes met Tommy's, the fire in them dimming slightly. "You're right," he conceded, taking a deep breath. "We need to find him, find out what he knows."

They swam back to the archway, the water now a grim reminder of their failure rather than a potential route to success. As they emerged into the dank tunnel, Dutch turned to his men. "Spread out," he said, his voice echoing through the space. "Find Archie, bring him back. Alive if you can, dead if you have to. We need answers."

The men nodded, disappearing into the shadows. Tommy and John exchanged a look, both knowing that the stakes had just been raised even higher. The alliance between their two gangs was as precarious as the crumbling walls around them.

"We need to find him," Tommy murmured, his eyes scanning the murky waters for any sign of hope. "And we need to do it before the Italians or the law do."