BIA Ch. 128

The scheduled flight departure time was 9:20 AM. After arriving at the airport, checking in, and waiting, Hagan, who had been contacted by Samuel, showed up. He looked more like a clergyman than a lawyer. To think that with such a kind-looking face, his livelihood involved researching how to commit illegal acts while skirting the law. It truly was a world where you couldn’t judge anything by appearances alone.

Samuel took him to a cafe inside the airport and returned alone about thirty minutes later.

“Did you explain everything well?”

“As much as I could.”

The rest depended on Hagan’s luck.

“But Hagan will be desperate too. In this line of work, my boss’s standing is my standing. He’ll try anything, somehow, just to protect his own position.”

The plane took off on time without any delays. Samuel took a picture of the departures board showing the flight number, gate number, and boarding status, then left.

“Let’s go too.”

Isaiah and Mickey left the airport and headed to a nearby hotel. Since there was no need for surveillance today, they decided to get separate rooms. Isaiah requested a smoking room, just like yesterday.

He tossed his caddy bag in a corner of the room and lay down on the bed. A short while later, there was a knock on the door. When he opened it, Mickey stood there holding two bottles of beer.

“Care for a beer?”

“I don’t drink.”

A look of belated realization crossed Mickey’s face, but only for a moment. He then insisted Isaiah keep him company, barging in stubbornly. He said he was too nervous to sleep otherwise.

“Why are you nervous? You don’t even have anything to do.”

“No, still. I have to drive and all.”

Mumbling, Mickey arbitrarily took a seat at the table and asked as he opened a beer bottle.

“Why don’t you drink, by the way?”

“I don’t want to become an alcoholic.”

“Excuse me…?”

Mickey blinked. Isaiah picked up the ashtray from the table and went towards the window.

“It’s because I know my brain is susceptible to addiction. Whether it’s alcohol or anything else, I know I’ll get easily addicted if I start, so I don’t even begin.”

“Ah.”

Mickey nodded as if he finally understood. Then, holding up the beer bottle in his hand, he said.

“Still, a beer should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

“It’s not fine.”

“Ah… yes.”

He quietly drank his beer alone, seemingly deciding not to press further. Isaiah perched on the window seat and put a cigarette to his lips. The window only opened about a quarter of the way, but he figured it was better than nothing. Most hotels didn’t allow windows to open at all above the 10th floor. It seemed they allowed this much because it was a smoking room.

Come to think of it, am I already addicted to nicotine at this point?

He thought as he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. The fact that just inhaling smoke deeply seemed to quiet his noisy mind, even slightly, and create the illusion that something caught in his chest was easing, suggested that was probably the case. This was why he shouldn’t have started in the first place.

“So, have you never had a drink before?”

Mickey asked abruptly.

“I’ve tried it.”

“Really? Beer?”

“Vodka too.”

“How was it?”

“It was too long ago, I don’t remember.”

When Isaiah added that he didn’t particularly feel like drinking more after that, Mickey smiled as if he understood.

“I don’t really like vodka either. It’s so strong I can’t even taste the flavor or scent. I think beer is just right for me.”

“Beer was just okay for me too.”

Isaiah exhaled cigarette smoke through the slightly open window crack. After smoking alone in silence for a while, he spoke.

“But I do want to try whiskey sometime.”

“Whiskey?”

Mickey looked at him with a ‘why whiskey, of all things?’ expression.

“Bran always drank that.”

“I expected as much.”

I shouldn’t have asked. Mickey muttered, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. He tilted his head back and gulped down the beer, making swallowing sounds. Placing the now-empty bottle on the table, he called out to Isaiah.

“It’s a bit late to ask, but do you have any regrets about your decision now?”

It really was late to be asking.

“Not right now.”

Isaiah said dryly.

“Whether I’ll truly regret it or not, I’ll only know this time tomorrow. But I would have regretted it more if I had stayed in Virginia.”

“I see.”

Mickey nodded slightly.

Mickey ordered two more bottles of beer after that. While drinking, he monitored the real-time flight status using a flight tracker app. Only after midnight, when the plane they were originally supposed to be on arrived at the Virginia airport, did he finally return to his own room.

“I hope you have a good night.”

After Mickey left, Isaiah turned on his phone. There was a message from Bran.

「Call me.」

Isaiah deliberately waited until after one AM to call.

「Where are you?」

“Just got to the hotel.”

「What hotel?」

“What do you mean, what hotel? Williams, the one you booked.”

Why, should we video call? Isaiah deliberately suggested it first.

「Should we?」

“Hey.”

Isaiah genuinely frowned for a moment.

“If you were going to be like this, you should have just installed a tracking app like Chester.”

「I wouldn’t do something like that.」

Bran said, his voice tinged with a laugh as smooth as silk. He immediately added.

「Because I trust you.」

Isaiah felt a pang, almost a throb, in a corner of his chest.

“Yeah, trust me.”

「You’re really unreliable.」

“No, you can trust me.”

Smiling, Isaiah went to the window and perched on the window seat again, just like before. As he put a cigarette to his lips and lit it, Bran spoke as if the thought had just occurred to him. 「Come to think of it.」

「I smelled cigarette smoke when I was near you earlier.」

“Because I was smoking.”

Isaiah replied with the filter between his lips.

「You didn’t used to smoke much.」

“I smoke when I smoke.”

He habitually took a long first drag and exhaled, when his eyes met the large moon through the window crack. Instantly, the cigarette smell vibrating at the tip of his nose changed to the smell of gunpowder. Neither was a particularly pleasant smell. Both were the smell of something burning, after all.

But—

“Because of you.”

「Hm?」

“Now when I look at the moon, it smells like gunpowder.”

Isaiah said, holding the cigarette between his fingers. A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“It’s true.”

Isaiah said, smiling himself.

“Give me back my romantic notion.”

「Then conversely, does seeing a gun make you think of the moon?」

“Not really.”

「And does that in turn, make you think of me?」

“I said no.”

Aren’t you getting a bit too full of yourself? Isaiah was about to toss out a joke with a laugh.

「Do that.」

Think of me when you see a gun, Isaiah. Bran whispered softly.

“……”

The hand bringing the cigarette to his mouth paused. In that interval, Bran spoke again, as if urging him once more.

「Even if it’s just for that reason, don’t shoot guns anymore.」

Isaiah didn’t answer. He just smoked his cigarette in silence. After deliberately taking his time with a couple of drags, when he felt confident his voice wouldn’t tremble, he spoke in a purposefully incredulous tone.

“Are you telling me to become unemployed at my age?”

「You’ve earned plenty already.」

“It’s not about the money.”

「You could list the Virginia house on Airbnb.」

“That damn Airbnb.”

Isaiah laughed, tapping the cigarette ash into the ashtray.

“You haven’t seen Alejandro clean, have you? You have to be incredibly diligent.”

「Vanessa will help.」

“That old lady looks like she needs to retire soon.”

「Then I’ll help you then.」

“What are you talking about? Stop talking nonsense.”

Isaiah finally burst into loud laughter. He could hear Bran’s faint breathing over the phone, suggesting he was laughing too. He must have drunk a lot, but the smell of alcohol wasn’t noticeable. For some reason, it reminded him of thick cappuccino foam. His breath sounded that warm and soft.

「Anyway, don’t shoot guns anymore.」

Bran said in an even softer voice, seemingly relieved by Isaiah’s laughter.

“Okay.”

Isaiah replied, bringing the cigarette to his lips.

「You still can’t lie.」

Bran said that and hung up. Isaiah spoke to the disconnected phone.

“I’m actually a great liar.”

He finished his cigarette and stood up.

A little past three in the morning, Mickey knocked on the room door again.

“Just got a call from Samuel.”

“What did he say?”

“Martino’s side has decided to send out only half the personnel they originally planned. Instead, they’ve agreed to scrap the previous agreement to take over all of Lombard, and will only receive the profits and rights to Brick and Floyd.”

Brick was a casino bar in Lombard, and Floyd was a club. Both were also places where Martino’s goons had ignored Chester, treated the places like their own homes, and ended up getting shot dead by Isaiah.

It meant they intended to save face by taking the two most symbolic locations. Martino’s side had conceded as much as they could. That clergyman-looking lawyer seemed to be better at his job than expected.

“Tomorrow at midnight… the condition is that you personally bring the rights transfer documents for both places to Liberty Harbor.”

As he delivered the most crucial part, Mickey couldn’t properly meet Isaiah’s eyes.

“Alright. Is that everything?”

Isaiah deliberately put on a sleepy expression and pushed Mickey back out of the room. Ignoring Mickey, who seemed about to say something more, he quickly closed the door and said his farewell.

“Gute Nacht, Maxim.” (Good night, Maxim.)