Chapter Text
Josephine walked into her husband's workshop, "Harold," He shifted in his seat
"We need to talk."
He scooted back in his chair and turned to look at her, "What's wrong Josie?"
She sighed. "I just don't think with our line of work that we are well.. Ready for this." She put her hands on her visibly pregnant stomach. "Especially not with the war coming... You out of all people know how things have been escalating."
He stood up and walked to her, his eyebrows furrowed "Well, what do you suppose we do then?" She looked up at him, and sighed.
"I've already made arrangements, I have a friend.. But she lives in Texas. I knew her back before the districts split... I already told her she can have the baby when they are born." She paused, "Harold, before you say anything this is better. For everyone."
His breath paused and he thought for a moment, "If... That's what you think is right, then let's do it."
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"Harold..? Harold.."
It was early the next morning, and he groaned softly, "What is it..?"
"It's 6 am..."
Harold lurched forward out of bed, instantly awake, "Shit." He hissed under his breath as he quickly jumped out of bed and into his shoes.
The stress between the Red and Blue districts were starting to peak, and the once peaceful New Mexico was quickly turning into a war zone. He grabbed keys off of the counter and promptly ran out of the house. He hated to leave Josephine alone so suddenly like this, especially with her being 9 months pregnant, but he knew he couldn't stay any longer. Especially not after being as late as he already was.
He sped down the road, and made a sharp turn that almost flipped his car and he parked suddenly. Not even pausing for a breath he jumped out and grabbed a toolbox from the bed of his truck and quickly walked into the building. Upon entering, a woman behind the front desk greeted him cheerfully
"Good morning Mr Co—" Harold threw his keys at the woman, and without even glancing at her "Park my car properly." And he flung the folding doors open and stopped.
"Conagher. You're late." The voice was raspy with age, but still had a sharp edge to it. Harold panted softly,
"Yes Mr Mann I kn-" Blutarch Mann slammed his fists against his desk and stood up, "If you knew you wouldn't be fucking late!" He hissed.
Harold nodded, "yes sir." Blutarch leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers together as Harold set his toolbox down.
"I am sure you've heard but, The Red district wants New Mexico.. I mean, of course, why wouldn't he?" Blutarch stood up and limped to the window, "We have the world's largest supply of gravel, New Mexico is just a gold mine of it!" He chuckled softly and turned to glare at Harold, "I won't give it up without a fight, if my brother thinks he can take it, with some two cent mercenaries from god knows where, he's wrong.."
He walked over and grabbed Harold by the collar and pulled him close. "Conagher, listen closely, you are going to go out there and find nine more guns for hire and FIX THIS DAMNIT." He spat on the floor and shoved him back, "They're already here, so you better move a lot quicker than how you showed me today. Leave my fucking office."
Harold quickly scrambled out of the room and looked down the nicely decorated hall. The walls were covered in expensive cool toned paintings and fancy blue tinted furniture. He would stand and admire the artwork if the situations were different. He sobered down the hall and stopped at the desk.
The young woman glared at him, "I'm not your valet Mr Conagher.” she said as she threw his keys back at him. He quickly caught them, and in a defeated tone replied "Sorry Miss Bluford, it won't happen again I promise."
As he walked out the door he heard her sharply reply, "It better not."
His car was still parked exactly where he left it and he threw his tool box into the back of his car. He jumped in and started the engine but instead of leaving, he just stopped, and pressed his forehead to the wheel. He had a long day ahead of him.