It was the fourth night and no one wanted to stay inside. The curfew did not pertain after sunset, so everyone went outside, willing to risk their lives for the fourth night of hedonism.
Nero slipped out of the safe house once no one was in the living room, out to commit more felonies. He had discovered an app that would translate pictures to words and read them aloud.
He immediately did this with many addresses on the papers Jack gave them, scanning them, announcing them, and using the voice function on his phone to search up various addresses in town, directions from the built-in GPS as well.
Satisfied with his route of terror planned out, Nero wanted to have the after-party before the job was done. He had been drinking the entire week, the lack of sleep getting to his mind, and he chalked up his strange dream to drinking too much, the hangover wasn’t helping either.
To stave off the headache from the hangover there was only one solution.
To get trashed again.
Roaming the town and blending in with the large, thick crowds of tourists, he found a bar in downtown Kiruna called SwordFight , the logo with two swords on the outside.
He chose the bar because he thought the swords outside were flashy, matching the two swords tattooed on him.
He grinned, his sword complained about nothing, and he went inside the bar with a relaxing, red hue, with colored bulbs and soft music. It was the perfect spot, his first destination on his route of terror was nearby, at Green Bay.
From the papers, Nero and his motley crue had deduced that Green Bay was where Enemy’s shipment came in and Nero planned to raze it to the ground, completely inebriated while doing it.
Something about watching a port burn while drunk on rum and coke appealed to him.
Nero did not understand that it made no sense for Enemy to control Green Bay in an area where Aecor had an iron grip, far from where Enemy held most of their business.
He did not listen, would not listen, because nobody could tell him what to do.
Nero downed margaritas and mango daiquiris at the front of the bar like he was paid to. He was sure he drank too much, but he would rather get plastered at the bar, under the soft red lights, than get plastered at home and get yelled at.
He noticed that someone was staring at him, quite handsome, and he liked his nose. The man was very tall, and Nero mumbled to himself that he was going to climb him like a tree, giggling softly to himself.
The handsome man made his way from over the other side of the bar and sat at the barstool next to Nero.
“Hey Ace," said Fenton. “Why are you here? I thought you left with Sierra."
“Look, I think you have the wrong idea," said Nero.
“Wrong idea about what," asked Fenton.
“I’m not-”
Nero paused and decided he could use his similar face to get info out of this stranger. He could use the information to get to Almuz and kill him because he figured, all cops must know each other, which wasn’t true, and he started to smile, using the same terrifying grin Alto would make.
“It's nothing,'' said Nero. “It's good to see you again."
“Why are you at a gay bar?”
“This is a gay bar?”
“You’re as oblivious as always,” Fenton chuckled.
Fenton was a little drunk himself, never realizing that Nero’s hair was much longer than Ace’s but their voices were the same, the shape of their auras as well, so his sloshed mind skipped over the minor details.
Nero pouted and drank more of his mango daiquiri, not sure which number he was on because he stopped counting at his fourth drink.
“I really miss seeing you at work," said Fenton. “We all treated you wrong, and we all want you to come back to the Defense Program.”
Nero looked down at Fenton’s hand and saw his Ring of Fealty on, and he didn’t want to slip up and get in more trouble with his undercover operation. Impersonating a cop was one thing, but if he got caught by the Union, he would never get out of prison.
Nero tried to choose his words right, but the alcohol got in the way, making his lips heavy.
“It's okay," Nero said. “That's all in the past. We can get to know each other better.”
He assumed Ace and Fenton were lovers, and held his hand, making Fenton grunt in disgust.
“I, I don’t like you like that, Ace,” he said. “I think you’re just drunk….You need to drink some water and sober up. It’s pretty late too…”
“What time is it," asked Nero.
“It's around 1 AM, why," Fenton replied.
“Oh shit,” Nero mumbled. “I have a thing I need to do…”
“At one in the morning? You’re crazy.”
“Could you give me a ride," asked Nero. “I’m pretty messed up right now and I don’t know my way around this part of town."
“I don’t think you should be out.”
“This is not 2050, I can love whoever I want, ” Nero slurred.
The bartender told him that was right, he can love whoever he wants, and the other men at the bar agreed, and Fenton groaned, because that was not what he meant by "out", and he told him he needs to get some sleep .
“No. Take me to Green Bay,” Nero grumbled.
“It’s nothing but a bunch of old boats and shipping containers! Why should I?”
“Why do you ask so many questions? You can drop me off there yourself or I can find my own way there.”
Fenton decided it would be best to go along so he wouldn’t get hurt. He led Nero outside to his car in the small parking lot, but it was an effort for Nero to walk in a straight line.
Nero stumbled towards Fenton’s car and struggled to open the door. After Fenton watched him rub the windows over and over again as he waited in the driver’s seat, he finally got out and helped him get in.
“You’re so nice," slurred Nero. “You’re so cute.”
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”
Fenton drove down the busy streets of Atlaan to Green Bay, going as slow as possible, hoping he wouldn’t get pulled over or hit an absentminded tourist. He lowered the windows to help Nero sober up, and hopefully not get vomit inside his car in case he threw up.
Nero mumbled the entire ride, saying things that made no sense, and Fenton’s brain was starting to realize that something was not quite right. He realized that Nero had a sword, the same sword that Ace said was stolen , and nothing seemed to add up.
“You’re a nice guy," mumbled Nero.
He went quiet for some time and at the next red light, Fenton turned to look at him. He had kept his eyes closed for too long and he fell asleep.
The sound of dial-up noises could be heard as Fenton worked out what was happening, the slow upload of information coming together, finally coalescing to the part of his brain controlling reasoning instead of emotion.
The upload of data was complete, and Fenton’s ears turned red as they arrived at Green Bay. This was not Ace, it was his imposter and he had driven him, while under the influence , to some shipyard in the middle of the night where he was going to kill, eat him, maybe torture him.
When the car stopped, Nero awoke with a snort, and Fenton shrieked.
“Where we at," groaned Nero.
“Green Bay. The place you wanted to go, remember," repeated Fenton.
Nero nodded his head and fumbled with the seat belt. He opened the door and fell out of the car. Nero laid in the gravel, expecting Alto to pick him up like he usually did when he was drunk, but Alto wasn’t there.
“Alto, pick me up,” Nero groaned.
Fenton had sobered up a bit and tried to trick the criminal into coming with him so he tried to pretend as if he didn’t know who he was.
“We’re kinda messed up. Let’s go back to my place,” Fenton said.
“You would like that wouldn’t you," murmured Nero. “Just so you know I only top ."
Fenton bared his teeth in disgust and squinted his eyes. “Yeah, I’m taking you home," said Fenton. “You’re getting some water."
“No,” Nero whispered. “I can’t do this. I don’t wanna get you pregnant.”
He pushed himself up but fell back to the ground, and Fenton tried to help him but Nero just pushed him away. He stumbled forward and suddenly shot up straight, the world spinning.
“I can’t go with you, I’m married," explained Nero. “My husband will kill you."
Fenton blinked like something was stuck in his eye and tried to understand what he was hearing. The impersonator of his best friend was married, and in an attempt to keep the conversation going, he tried to ask more questions.
“When did you get married," asked Fenton.
“Like a year ago," said Nero. “You should know, you were there."
Fenton rubbed his forehead in frustration as he realized that these were not the words of a sober man.
“Get inside the car!"
“No!"
Nero ran off in the other direction towards Green Bay, and Fenton chased after the drunk idiot that suddenly had a surge of strength.
Two drunk idiots ran into a shipping yard and soon got lost.
