Retribution (A Shadow of Doubt Part 5)

He had a dream about his teenage years, an unpleasant one at that. He shook his head and looked back up to his monitors. Jacob had fallen asleep on his naval cot, Ander was working on his laptop, and Liza had moved from where she was before Brent had passed out. Jacob meant the world to Brent. Jacob had been there for Brent since he was thirteen and had never broken his trust. Jacob and Brent had fallen out plenty of times in the past. Since they entered this line of work, Jacob had grown distant with Brent. It was difficult to remain friends when there was so much to think about. They were fighting for all sorts. Freedom included. The world wasn't about to get better in one straight night. They all knew that, so they had to stay strong. Brent and Jacob included. Jacob was the toughest and strongest person Brent had known, but he didn't trust him. His paranoia made him doubt everyone. Brent sat up and lounged back into his chair. He scanned the monitors and noticed a small blip in the corner. It was a new message, from Deist.
A while back, when the chaos was more unfounded, Brent used his internal contacts to track down a powerful hacker known as Deist, code name appropriate for the situation of the world. Ever since, they would swap information for money and, on occasion, for other information, primarily on Brent’s teams clientele. Brent had recently done a good deed for Deist and wanted a favor in return, that favor being the location of the mole from within his group. This must have been the information he was looking for. For obvious reasons, Brent had not told his colleagues. He opened the message.
Warehouse 332; Lower East Docks.
You’ll find what you need there.
D.
This could have been it. The score he was looking for. He had been let down several times by decoys, but Brent had a good feeling about this one. He stood up slowly, trying not to draw the attention of his other colleagues and headed toward the warehouse main door. As he walked back the sleeping Jacob, he picked up a small case from the floor, then left the building. He reached his car and threw the case on the back seat. He just stood there, looking at the landscape. Ahead he saw the city. Casual smoke, flashlights in the sky, the odd fire. He began to think long and hard. He grew tired of the world that he lived in and wanted to see it end. Unfortunately this wasn't a film or a video game, so killing one person wouldn't see the world return to what it once was. He got into the car. With the door closed behind him, he was in for the ride. Even if he couldn't save the world, he would end his problems right there. Tonight.
With a small push and a tough shove, Brent loosened the air conditioning duct. He slipped through and quietly pulled back the slide on his handgun. He had never felt easy about killing, but he knew what had to be done. Slowly navigating the duct, he got out and landed in what appeared to be a storage room. Around him were packets and reels of paper, medical kits and spare old computer parts. This was an abandoned warehouse. No doubt about it. There were hidden motives behind Brent’s reason to being here. The opposition were the ones who had killed Liza’s lover. The opposition almost killed Jacob and worst yet, the opposition were a contributing factor to the state of the world and its fire sale. It wouldn't get the world back to the way it was and it wouldn't repair the damage that had been done, but it would be a start to getting things back on track. Problem was, there weren't many moves left for Brent. Liza was the only lead to finding the opposition all those years ago, but the death of Lucas caused her mind to collapse and with it, the knowledge of his killers. His “queen” had been lost. The game was coming to an end and Brent could feel it. Sacrifice was around the corner.
He opened the creaky door and shone his flashlight coupled with his handgun ahead of his, following his every 12, 3, 6 and 9. There was nothing here. It was just an entirely hollow and empty hall. Right in the corner, something stood out of place. It was a barrel. Everything in the warehouse was either rusted or faded, but this barrel was just dirty and dusty with small spaces of shiny metal. Brent walked over and investigated the questionable object. It was filled water dripping that, over the years, made it overflow. There was something in the bottom. Brent knew if there was anything in this place that was a clue, it would be that. He placed his gun onto the floor and rolled his sleeves up. With another inward sigh, he dived his arm into the deep barrel.  With the coupling of his fingers, he managed to slightly grip the object. It felt like a bag of some sort. He raised the bag up from the water and noticed the shape the inner object was making. It was a gun. Brent put the bag on the floor, watching the water flow from within it. If there was a gun in here, it would be safe to assume it was no longer in working condition. He took the two handles and separated them, looking into the bag. The gun was familiar. Very familiar.