"We are here to bargain," the man continued.
"Give us our comrades in prison, and you get this tower along with its Nobles. Of course, after we leave the perimeter safely."
"Well, well," Elfric mumbled as he leaned back on his balm.
He was enjoying this a little too much more than he should; his lips curled up into a sharp smirk.
"They did indeed think of this carefully."
It was well planned to the point that Elfric started to doubt that they were ever going to need him. He wasn't even sure this was intended to bring him out into the open, as he thought.
'I might not be a human, but I can understand that by doing this, you are going to be revealed to the world, even that Shaw guy.'
'Didn't you work your ass-off to prevent him from finding out about you? Now you are just what…handing yourself over?' Orathan questioned.
"I can't keep doing things in the shadows," said Elfric. "Everything that I would do, someone else would take credit – or blame for it."
He clearly remembered what it was like in the slums. Innocent men getting dragged away for things that they didn't do, some were even against what happened, but would the Black Cross care?
No, all they care about is giving a full report with a list of culprits.
Elfric wouldn't be able to live with that guilt. He might have been able to live with a demon within him, but that…he knew that he would never pull it off.
Elfric shrugged the thought away; this was no time for this sulking on rooftops while enjoying the afternoon breeze.
He shifted his attention back to the tower. The commotion beneath his feet was getting out of control.
He couldn't point out faces, but he saw the gestures of the men he figured were in command, trying to calm down both the crowd of people and reporters that started to gather, and their numbers only increased.
The soldiers had no idea what they were supposed to do since the shooting was now out of the question.
One man stepped forward from the line of soldiers, holding a mic in his hand. This was turning into a concert, really. Elfric couldn't help but chuckle.
"We are not going to listen to any of your demands!" the man yelled out.
"Release those hostages immediately!"
That's not very clever, Elfric thought as he raised his eyebrows while looking down at the man dressed in a white uniform. But nothing too shocking. They always believed that they could do things their way; after all, they are the ruling few.
How dare some filthy slum rat come here into that hotel and take hostages of Noblemen, and on top of all of that ask for demands? To them, that was total nonsense and blabbering of a crazy man with a death wish…and they couldn't be happier to give it to him and whoever is behind him on it.
Their superiority complex never allowed them to believe that they were fooled. That they were mocked by the very humans they saw as less than animals.
They were in denial, the cause of their demise and failure. A nation so obsessed with not getting its name tarnished by failure or anything other than perfection.
"I believe that you have failed to hear me correctly," the man on the hotel terrace replied.
He stepped to the back and yanked the hostage in front of him.
"I have said that I will not hesitate to hurt them if my demands are unmet, General Toptenov."
Whoever he was, he had done his homework. From that distance, the Rebel was able to identify his enemy. If that wasn't a well-thought-out and placed heist, Elfric doesn't know what is.
"You are not going to harm anyone of those Noblemen if you want to see the morrow, Rebel!" General Toptenov made sure that his voice resonated with the anger that reflected his own emotions.
"I assure you that I will,"
Elfric swore that he saw him smirk, but that was impossible from this distance.
"You are going to listen to my demands," said the Rebel. "Then we talk about the…Hostage." He turned to look at the man in front of him and shoved him aside to be upfront.
To make the whole show more dramatic, the rough engine sound from the helicopter roared through the air. Reports. That's what Elfric figured from the logo on the yellow metallic body of the helicopter.
Down below, General Toptenov was screaming something inaudible to his men. Probably to get that thing out of their way. Elfric was now enjoying his seat up there on the rooftop, one of the TV station's vans lit up with the live feed from the helicopter.
Now they can clearly see the face of the Hostage Nobel and the covered face of the Rebel. He didn't even flinch. Oh, it wouldn't be surprising if this were part of his plan as well.
"Your final warning!" General Toptenov exclaimed, clearly on edge from being on every TV screen in Greater London – and the world.
You could see on the screen the way the Rebel's face darkened despite the hood and the mask that covered his whole face. Clearly, he wasn't the type of man who likes to be ignored.
The Rebel yanked the hostage back in front of him, raising his gun to point it at the older man's head.
The camera didn't fail to show that, and at that point, General Toptenov didn't care. If that Noble is shot, it would be the end of his career as the man in charge of this incident.
But he failed.
"We aren't going to…"
The sound of the gunshot echoed in the air and through the speakers on the screens. Screams and exclaims as they saw the man fall to the ground, his body hiding behind the oblique handrail.
Before anything or anyone could say anything, the fallen man was replaced with another hostage.
A woman this time, her eyes were puffed and red with tears as screams left her mouth. Her head was held low and fixed on the spot where the man before her had just fallen.
There was no doubt about it, the man was dead.
"I believe that now you are going to take me more seriously," the Rebel finally broke the silence. His voice never once cracked or faltered from his own acts. He must have already seen this coming.
Or at least that's what Elfric would have taken into consideration. "This is the only way that they would take him seriously," Elfric mumbled under his breath. "But he also has to bid farewell to any hopes of leaving there – without taking a hit himself…a hard hit."
General Toptenov raised his hands, ceasing all motion around him. Sweat was dripping down his temples as he tried to hold his composure.
"W-What is it that you want?" the General gave in.
Bingo, he fell right in.