In Lieu (A Shadow of Doubt Part 3)

When Brent got back, it was still dark. Late, even. He stopped the car and switched off the lights, but did not take the key from the ignition. His paranoia was playing him simple. There was a mole, but it couldn't have been any of his guys. Could it? He had nothing to worry about except the worrying situation he had found himself in. There was a problem, a rather big one at that. His informants were being killed off, one by one, and he had no idea who was doing it, or why it was being done. He needed to relax, which is why he left, but now he was back and the problems grew a tremendous sense of stress on his shoulders.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tablet PDA. Everything was a little too quiet for him. The PDA tracked the camera movements just outside the door. He had done a few favors in the past for a security company and in thanks; they had installed a neat little CCTV system for his safe house. Everything was fine and clear, but Brent was still worried. He had friends on the inside, outside, every side, but was still suspicious and trusted no one. It was a sad thought that his intelligence and self-preparation had only got him this far. He snapped out of the trance, grabbed his metal case and got out of the car, making sure the door slammed shut behind him. Like he predicted, small gaps of light appeared in the otherwise blacked out windows. He walked to the door and knocked on the shutter 3 times with 3 seconds intervals between each knock. A small slit opened and behind it were peering eyes. From a squint to a glance, the slit closed again and the door opened.
Home sweet home.
Brent walked into the dank and dark warehouse. The usual was happening around him. All his “friends” were going about their daily business. Liza had typically injected herself with god-knows-what in the bathroom and passed out on the floor. Liza had been a mess ever since her long lost love, Lucas, had died all those years ago. A car crash. An added reason to why she never drives shotgun, the other being that she was a terrible shot. Everyone knew the score, and just left her to her own misery. On the other side of the warehouse was Jacob. Jacob was Brent’s best friend from childhood, but had grown up considerably since then. He was sat at the table, cleaning his signature sniper rifle and organizing assorted bullet rounds and cartridges. On the far side of the warehouse was Ander. He was the middle man and new addition to the group. Just because he was new, didn't mean that he was green in anyway. Ander had seen more underground action than all of them put together, Liza included. He was casually counting half a million dollars through his case, organizing a trade off for hardware or weaponry no doubt. Next to Ander was a small radio box with a young girls voice, announcing different numbers over and over. Money was the currency and drugs were the goods, we also did a little freelance hacking now and again to earn some pocket money. That’s where Brent came in. Brent walked over to his workstation, a large computer with several different screens, all working towards the same objective. He notices something, off. Around him were all of his colleagues working, and sleeping, but there was something else. Something in the middle of it all.
He sat down at the system, placed his case on the floor and simply stared at the monitors, hand in hand. Brent thought long and hard to himself. He was in a game. Both sides fighting to win, whatever the cost. He picked up a small black chess pawn from his desk and fiddled with it. Something out of realization dawned on him. What if there was a middle man, someone conspiring to see both sides lose. His suspicion heightened once more.