Conversation · Alain

"Sons of bitches..." He mumbles something in Mesque. When he sinks down on the table again, a malevolent smile spreading across his face.

"You'll get over it."

The eyes looking back at you from the narrow face are those of a dead man.

He's not gonna get over it.

"This is terrible. I don't think I could go on living after this..."

The eyes looking back to you from the narrow face momentarily light up and his lips move without sound.

He said 'thank you'.

"That shit ain't helping anyone, asshole. The fuck do you want with us anyway?"

"This is a broken man," he whispers to you. "He probably feels that he should have been able to protect the others somehow. And now he feels guilty for not dying with them, or instead of them."

"What a fucking pussy..." Cuno whispers.

"Yeah, I suppose that was a dumb question."

"No shit, Mullen."

"Any idea what happened to Klaasje?"

"Damn songbird of misery that one..." The man shakes his head.

"And do you have any information on this 'songbird of misery'?"

"Nah. Garte said she took off some time before the firefight, that's all. Trying to remember if there was anything... oh, yeah, he said she seemed to be in real hurry."

She's gone. Face it.

Move on. There's no catching her this time around.

"And do you have any information on her whereabouts?"

"Take care guys." [Leave.]

"Yeah, you too. It's a rough world out there..." He shakes his head. "It's not easy being a cop. We were too hard on you..."

"...both of you," he turns to the lieutenant. "We shouldn't have fucked with you like we did. You got between us and a lot of bullets in that fight. Martinaise owes you one."

"That's kind of you to say." The lieutenant closes his notes. "Take care of your friend, okay?"

"I will. You take care of yours," he nods to you.

A sharp pain shoots up your side and into your stomach. You must not look too good. Luckily it passes...

"We shouldn't have fucked with you like we did. You got between us and a lot of bullets in that fight -- Martinaise owes you one."

"Hear that, detective Pig? You're a fuckin' hero now."

"I wouldn't go that far -- but you have a home here if you need it. And two busted up Union men who are grateful to you. So take care, okay?"

He really means it.

The man stares at you through the haze in his eyes.

Seeing you approach, the bruised man clenches his fists.

"Oh no..." He winces. "You fly solo on this one."

"Those guys have been going around town," he continues in a whisper, "Crying about their new asshole. Cuno can't handle this emotional shit when he's off the lightning."

He probably means they've been mourning their lost friends.

"Oh, it's you... Didn't think we'd see you walking any time soon." He looks to the man sitting behind him. "Alain, look, it's the killer cop."

"Uh... what?" He looks up, his eyes full of confusion, as if he'd just woken from a deep sleep.

He's very, very drunk.

"Our condolences for your losses," he says with a little nod, but the remaining Hardie boys don't seem to register his words.

"Oh, it's you... Didn't think we'd see you walking any time soon." He looks to the man behind him. "Alain, look, it's the rat cop."

"Oh, it's you... Didn't think we'd see you walking any time soon." He looks to the man sitting behind him. "Alain, look, it's the cowardly cop."

Seeing you approach, the bruised man raises his beer can in welcome.