Chapter Text
The wind whipped by him as he perched on a roof of some small town wannabe sky scraper. He hums as he tracks his target walking out of their work building. The poor dude was a rising CEO of some new start up that was approaching his bosses business. And therefore his bosses had placed the cross heirs on this unaspecting fool's head. Jones didn’t care who the guy was, not his job truly, his bosses place the hit and Jones takes the shot.
Jones usually took his marks back to the headquarters and did whatever it took to get the results his bosses wanted. This time Jones had to do this ‘above the table’ which meant making it untraceable. So this dude probably had mob concations that would take revenge for him. Which is just a shame, Jones wouldn’t get to play with him. And this man looked like he would be hard to break. Oh well, Jones takes his shot as the man is standing to cross the road in a crowd.
People scream, faint, and scatter in different directions. Car tires screech and swerve to avoid the foolish people who jumped out onto the road. Alfred just smiles as he quickly and effectively takes his homemade gun apart. He places it back into a deceivingly normal cross body bag. And makes his way down into the nearby Alley. The taxi driver that was waiting for him, was one of his bosses underlings so he only grunts as Alfred slips into the back seat. He takes off in the confusion traveling straight through it Alfred fakes a gasp and the driver gives the scene a wary glance as they drive past. The driver knows Alfred was the one to do this, but Jones muses he knows he could be the next in Jones cross heirs. Alfred fakes his reaction for any camera recording so if they get a frame of him in it Alfred looks like a normal twenty year old reacting to a gruesome scene.
The driver slows as they get to the worse of the traffic people trying to get a glimpse of the scene before going on with their days. The driver follows the script and slows to get a peek before driving off. Once clear Jones giggles like a mad man, the driver far too used to Jones ignores him. When they arrived at the headquarters Alfred slipped out of the taxi with a cheerful thank you to the driver as he slowly made his way to the old busted up door. He slings the back door open and wanders down the stairs and weaves his way through the twisted underground tunnels. Now if you're new you would get lost in the maze but Jones was the one who made the tunnels he knew more about them then the current bosses did.
See, the two idiots running this particular mob family into the dirt were the grandsons of the man who had saved Jones when he was small. That man taught how to survive in a world that wanted him dead. Alfred knew that without him he would be dead. That is why he had stayed after the man had died. He felt like he owed that man to stick with his stupid grandsons at least for now. If they dug their own graves Jones would move on, The man would understand after all he was the one who taught Alfred that.
He dropped off his home made gun before trudging his way towards the bosses office. He had a success to report after all. He skipped his way down the hall, waving at people who gave him odd looks, and cheerful calls of hello to the older men who dipped their heads in respect. Alfred had seniority over all of them, the new blood just didn’t see it as such because he was closer to their age then the balding burly men.
Jones didn’t bother knocking; he just pushed the door open. A Russian man sat opposite of the two men Alfred knew. Jones couldn’t help the tilt of his head and crazed smile on his face as he studied the Russian man. He was dressed in a nicely black tailored suit, his hair was as white as snow and looked just as fluffy. Jones wanted to run his hands through it. The Russian man turned to him with a raised eyebrow. His eyes were an odd bluish purple color and Jones held back the urge to get in the man's face to pick out the small difference in the color. Davies' eldest Grandchild opened his mouth and Jones felt his mood plummet.
“ Mr Braginsky, This is our hitman Jones.” idiot one croaked out with a small wave of disinterest towards Jones. Alfred makes his way to the table and hops up onto it and unsheathes one of his knives from his hip strap. Braginsky didn’t respond to the idiot as he leaned back in his chair to stare back at Jones. A small smile pulls at one corner of the man's lip, and Alfred is secretly pleased at being regarded as the biggest threat in the room. The Russian was definitely pulling a fast one on the idiots and now that Alfred is in the room he is reevaluating the situation.
The russian wouldn’t have to worry about Alfred in that regard. If the idiots fell for it hook line and sinker that's on them. Alfred will jump ships, he was sure people would pay top dollar for his skills. The Russian stopped holding back his smile, pleased, Alfred will assume, with what he finds from his observation of Jones.
“ Well, Mr Jones, it's quite the pleasure to meet you.” Alfred spared the man a curious glance, his voice was smooth and cold as ice. The Man’s accent was pleasing to Jones' ears. “ Your boss here said you might be dropping in.”
“ Speaking of that, Jones, is it done?” Idiot two jumps in with annoyed grunt. Alfred rolls his eyes and spots the Russian's grin grow at the reaction. Truly the idiots need to learn that Jones had his side of things covered, that he wasn’t going to be the thing that bites them in the end, that would be their poor deals and trades with other mob families.
“ Why yes!” Alfred happily crips as he spins his knife before pulling a cloth free from his pocket to clean the knife. “ If you were to check the news, I'm sure you'll find that our dearest friend has made his appointment. Such a shame he couldn’t come in for an in person meeting, he seemed like he would be a thrilling date.” idiot one turns on the small tv in the corner and the four watch the new ladies panicked report on the poor fool Jones had taken out.
“ Such a shame indeed.” Both idiots mutter at the same time, the greed in their eyes giving it away. If the fool hadn’t had friends in big places Alfred would have snatched him from his bed and dragged the answers out of him that they so clearly desired. Braginsky regarded Jones when he looked back at him when the lady brought up the unidentifiable bullet found on the scene. Alfred just lets his smile grow in response and tilts his head away from the Russian. He switched his knife for one of holstered hand guns, which he put back on when he made it back. He focused on cleaning it before joining back into the conversation.
“ We would be willing to let you borrow Jones.” Idiot one, soon to be dead man one if he starts pissing Jones off more, said with a smug smile. He must have missed a pretty big business talk for Alfred to be suddenly offered up. The Idiots forget that Alfred owes them nothing, he didn’t belong to them, nor did he belong to Davie. He was more like a son to that man, he had said it. He left Alfred all of his guns and weapons when he passed. “ Of course you would have to give us half of whatever you made off of him.”
“ No, we need him for an upcoming task, we can send someone else, not him.” Idiot two argued, in such a way it made it clear that he was a tool and not an important ally to keep close. Jones slips his gun back into its spot as he stands. Braginsky was watching him clearly waiting to see what he would do.
“ I think.” Jones started, eyes narrowed and childish joy went from his voice. “ that I am here not out of obligation to you, If I truly wanted I could kill both of you in less than a heart beat and be on my way. When Mr Davie died I could have left and struck out on my own but I stayed to keep his business alive. And you two are killing it so I might as well cut my losses now." Both idiots reared back in their chairs with twin looks of rage and fear on their faces. Alfred smiles at them and turns towards Braginsky who seems beyond pleased.
“ Well Mr jones you are right, You're not a tool.” Braginsky tips his head to the right and looks at him through a few strands of his hair. “ You could easily make it on your own, you would be a loss too great for any respectful family to lose.” Alfred stares back mildly interested in the hidden offer in the man's words.
“ Ah, I don't think I fully introduced myself.” Braginsky said, straightening and standing up. “ My full name is Ivan Braginsky, my sisters and I have acquired my late mothers business. After many years of training under her we have decided to branch out. And you Mr Jones seem like a good friend to make, da?”
“ Alfred Jones mister Braginsky.” He offered a hand to the man who took it and pressed the card Alfred had been expecting into his gloved hand. The note on the other hand surprised him but he didn't let it show as he stuck the hand in his pocket and he dramatically waved the opposite hand in the air. He turns his eyes to the very displeased pair of idiots watching them “Well if you don’t mind I have things to do, I'm sure we will be talking soon boss.”
He turns on his heels and makes his way with a cloud of spite following him, sending new blood and old blood leaping out of his way like flames from a fire. Jones slammed his door open to his office and slammed it close, Jones knew when a ship was sinking. And he knew when to make a run for a life boat. He had to get his guns and tools out of the building without the idiots realizing he was making a break for it.
If they knew they would try to catch him and sell him to the highest bidder. Jones was not a tool he refused to be a tool for someone to use. He was better off alone then with good will towards a dead man who would be disappointed in his blood. Jones had taken the old man's last name, Davey would live on in him so at the least the old fool had that going for him. He takes the note out of his pocket and smirks at what was written.
‘Dear Jones,
When you come to your senses, and leave the мертвые люди we here at the подсолнуховая мафия would greatly appreciate your skills as we find our footing in this strange new world. In training, leading, and intimidation of personnel we might bring into the fold. We hope you'll consider us when the time comes to jump into a new career pathway.
With care your new friend with the подсолнуховая мафия,
Ivan Braginsky’
Now when did mister Braginsky have the time to write that? Unless his goal hadn’t been to meet with his bosses, but to meet him? How interesting, he will have to consider this with great care. Alfred couldn’t help but feel he missed judge mister Braginsky, Jones hadn’t been a threat but an investment Braginsky had come to see in person before an offer was made. And Alfred had passed a test he wasn’t even aware he was participating in.