Criminal Breath | Peaky Blinders x Red Dead Redemption

Chapter 28

As dawn approached, they arrived at the deserted warehouse on the city's outskirts. The silence was deafening, the air thick with the scent of a setup. Tommy's instincts screamed at him to turn back, but the allure of the gold was too great. With a nod to his brothers, they entered, weapons drawn and ready for an ambush.

The warehouse was a maze of shadows and dust, the occasional ray of early morning light piercing through the broken windows. The sound of their footsteps seemed to echo endlessly, the only sound in the cavernous space. Tommy's eyes searched the gloom, his mind racing through possible scenarios. Where had Dutch's gang gone? Was this a trap, or had they truly found their prize?

As they moved deeper into the warehouse, a Blinder called out. Tommy's head snapped around to see his comrade pointing at a wall. It looked like any other, but as they approached, the Blinder's finger traced a line along the brickwork, revealing a hidden compartment. With a grunt, the Blinder yanked it open, and the light from a nearby lamp glinted off something metallic inside.

Tommy's heart raced as he stepped closer, reaching into the compartment. His hand closed around a stack of letters, bound by a leather strap. The wax seal was unbroken, marked with the crest of the King. His stomach twisted into a knot as he pulled them out, his mind racing. The letters were a treasure trove of secrets and deceit. They detailed a plan to frame the Peaky Blinders for the entire heist, using the Italians as pawns to stir up trouble between the two gangs. The King had been playing them all along.

The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer. All this time, they had been chasing shadows, while the real enemy had been orchestrating their downfall from the shadows. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the gold or Dutch's gang. The silence was eerie, the only sound the rustle of pages as he skimmed through the incriminating letters. The weight of the betrayal was heavy on his shoulders, but he knew they couldn't afford to let the gold slip away again. "All of this was just a game and we've been thr fools playing it..." Tommy sighed.

"Boss, we need to move," one of the Blinders urged, his eyes darting to the windows, where the first light of dawn was creeping in.

Tommy nodded, his mind racing. "You're right. We can't let the law catch us with this," he said, tucking the letters into his pocket. "We need a new plan though. John, how's your leg?" Tommy asked as he turned to the injured Marston.

John's jaw was clenched tight, but he managed a nod. "I can still shoot," he said through gritted teeth, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered pistol.

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man," he said, his eyes gleaming with a newfound purpose. "We're going to need all the firepower we can get." He turned to the others. "We're going to the King's mansion. We're going to get our gold and take out the King and his men. Now, give us a moment alone, lads." He motioned for the Peaky Blinders to leave John and him.

John leaned heavily on his good leg. "Thanks for putting your trust in me, Tommy."

"You've earned it," Tommy said, his gaze intense. "But this is the end of the line for you, John. You've been through enough already. Here." Tommy pushed the bag of gold into John's hand.

John's eyes widened. "What are you planning? I'll fight alongside you until the end, Tommy."

"I know," Tommy said, his voice heavy with the weight of his decision. "But you've got a family waiting for you, John. A son who needs a father. This is my fight now, and it's one that won't end until Dutch and the King are both in the ground. Take this gold, it's your hard earned share, and take the first ship to America. Start a new life, away from Dutch and all those fuckers, and be a good father and husband."

John looked down at the bag, his thumb brushing against the coarse fabric. "But Tommy..." he said, his voice strained. "What about you? You can't take on the entire city alone."

Tommy's expression was grim. "I'm not alone," he said, gesturing to the Blinders outside the warehouse. "And we're not just fighting for gold anymore. We're fighting for what's right. You're a good man, John. Now go back to your family and keep em safe."

John searched Tommy's eyes, finding the unyielding resolve that had become a hallmark of their friendship. With a sigh, he nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Alright," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But if you need me, you know where to find me."

Tommy pulled John into a tight embrace, the leather of their jackets creaking as they clung to one another. It was a brief moment of warmth in the cold, harsh world they inhabited, a silent acknowledgment of the bond forged in fire and blood. They had fought together, bled together, and now they were parting ways, their futures uncertain.

With a final, firm nod, John turned and limped out of the warehouse, the bag of gold slung over his shoulder, the weight of it seemingly heavier than before. The Peaky Blinders watched him go, their expressions a mix of respect and sorrow. They knew what this meant for their leader, the burden he was choosing to bear alone.

Tommy took a deep breath, the weight of his decision pressing down on his shoulders. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a bloody glow over the city. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and fear. "Alright, lads," he said, his voice firm. "We're going to the King's mansion. We're going to end this."

The Peaky Blinders followed him into the streets, their footsteps echoing through the deserted alleys. The city was a ghost town, the early morning light revealing the carnage of the night before. The buildings bore witness to the battle, their facades scarred with bullet holes and splatters of blood. The gang moved with a silent unity, each man lost in his own thoughts of vengeance.