The seats on the train were far from comfortable to rest in, but at this point, a jagged rock would feel like a cloud to the exhausted freelancer. At least he had a bit of room to spare and spread his legs with a long sigh. To keep his mind off of the throbbing pain Isaac simply thought of the bed waiting for him at home and a cold beer to drink before retiring for the night. He’d have the day off tomorrow, but for the life of him, he couldn’t decide how to spend it. His wounds would still be healing so there was no chance he’d be doing anything too fun, but at the very least it’d be a good chance to relax and think of his next course of business. Maybe-

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard shuffling to his left and right, his shoulders tensing as his instincts began to scream danger. It was too late to react though and Isaac found him receiving a hard blow to the jaw. A grunt of pain escaped him as he gritted his teeth before trying to rise to his feet to fight back. Unfortunately, he was unable to make the next move as two thugs gripped him by the arms and hauled him up to his feet. “Shit!” he hissed in frustration as he struggled for a moment to get free but gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs as the ringleader of the group delivered more blows to his rips. Once the assault ended Isaac was left hunched over, breathing heavily as two of his attackers held him up. 

Isaac’s mind was hazy and his vision blurry as he looked to the ground in a daze. The flaring pain that was stabbing at his sides was now screaming out, his ribs feeling as if they were about to snap. This wasn’t good, this was far from good. How could he be so stupid enough to let his guard down? The taste of blood began to fill his mouth as he silently cursed his screw-up and raised his head to meet the leader's gaze. Shit, Isaac recognized the bastard from earlier today. “Shit,” he whispered in an annoyed tone before glaring at the bandaged man as he spoke of what he wanted. 

A heavy frown covered his face as the other thugs swiped his wallet and simply ignored their taunts, his glare remaining on the man asking the questions. As the leaders asked again about the package and his boss Isaac remained silent for a moment, spitting a bit of blood to the floor and taking a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his side as he inhaled. “Package is long gone now. As for my boss,” he paused and tilted his head to the thug holding his card. “I’m my own boss technically,” he said, a slight smirk coming to his pained face. It probably wasn't smart for him to goat the man on, but he wasn't about to share any more details of his business with him. Plus, he really didn't know who had hired him for this job, only Otto did. 

Keeping a tight lip earned no amusement from the leader, as his patience wore thin. He made another fist as he reared up for another punch, only to stop himself. Dead men told no tales, and Isaac could yet prove useful. “You really want to make this hard on yourself, huh?” the leader said, taking a seat and crossing his legs. “Hope you aren’t planning on stalling for time. These people here ain’t gonna help ya, and I’ve got all night.”

The leader made a motion to one of the thugs, who tossed over Isaac’s carton of cigarettes. If anything, Isaac owed him as much for the trouble. He balanced one of the cigs between his lips, lighting up with a casino lighter from his pocket. “Good brand,” he trailed on. “I get the same ones myself. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that much. Not everyday we get a solo rider with the stones to pull up on us. Not everyday that they make it out alive, either.” His composure cooled down as he met Isaac’s eyes, knowing full well who was in control.

“Believe it or not, this ain’t about money,” the leader said. “I’m guessing you operate on a ‘no questions policy’ if you didn’t bother to ask what it was you were taking from us. Truth is, you can’t put a price on what was in that package. While I’m being truthful, I’ll even go as far to say that I ain’t too sour about what happened earlier today. But you’ve got me in a bit of a bind, see. If I don’t get that package to its intended recipient, then it’s gonna be my balls on a fuckin’ platter. So I’d say it’s in our best interest to cut the bullshit and help each other out here. That is of course if you don’t want me to stick you like a pig.”

Isaac remained silent, his gaze hardening on the leader as he proposed his deal. He hated to admit it, but he wasn't in much of a position to refuse. If anything, he was lucky this thug wanted to make a deal. Glancing around with a heavy frown, a sense of disgust twisted in his gut as he glared at the passengers simply watching and recording the situation. It wasn't that much of a surprise, but it always made him sick to see people make content out of others' struggles. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he hung his head in defeat. After taking a moment to think of his next course of action Isaac took in a steady breath and let out a long sigh, ignoring the stinging pain in his side. "I need to make a call," he stated before pointing to his pocket, unable to reach for his phone with the man's goons holding him. "My partner deals with the clients. If I don't call him now that package of yours is as good as gone," he clarified with a shrug. 

The train hissed to a halt, and the passengers cleared out. The leader directed the thugs to let go of Isaac and proceeded to give him orders. "We're going to the nearby park," he instructed. "Walk with us, act natural, and don't make any sudden movements. I'll give you your shit back when we're done." The group then escorted Isaac to a secluded area at a bench by a streetlamp, with one of the goons handing Isaac his phone. "Make your call and put it on speaker. Try anything funny and we'll bleed you over the pavement." The leader took a drag on another one of Isaac's cigarettes and eyed him carefully. The other two watched as well, standing by in wait in case of a wrong move.

After following the instructions given to him and taking a seat on the bench, hissing in pain from his wounds flaring up, Isaac snatched his phone from the thug. He stared at the phone with a heavy frown, giving a final glance back up to the leader of the group and clicking his tongue in annoyance to see the bastard enjoying his smokes. Out of all the times he decides not to carry heat and it had to be today. With a defeated sigh he dialed Otto's number and leaned back in his seat, his eyes staring up at the streetlamp above him with a distant gaze. Finally, a familiar voice answered.

"Vix? What's up? Thought you were calling it a-" 

"Ot, we have a change in plans," Isaac stated flatly, interrupting Otto before he could continue. A moment of silence filled the line before a heavy sigh could be heard on the other end. He knew the only time Isaac called him 'Ot' was when things had gotten serious. 

"Great, changing plans always keeps me on my toes," he said dryly. "What's up?" Isaac frowned and let his gaze remain upwards to the streetlamp.

"Bring the package back, location three at drop-off point B," he instructed with irritation clear in his voice. Another moment of silence filled the line. 

"Should I ask why?" he questioned with a grumble. Isaac scoffed with a bitter smirk before looking down at the phone.

"Not unless you want to start looking for a new partner," he said before looking up to the leader with a frown. The man wanted the name of who hired them, but Isaac debated for a moment before speaking up. "How big is the guy who gave the job?" he asked.

"They got a few connections, but he's no kingpin. They're just more loaded than some of the other small fries, probably just some lap dog for bigger fish. Why?" 

"Get me a name along with the package. Make it look like there was a leak on his end, make any blowback less hazardous for us and the business," he instructed only to hear a dry chuckle from Otto. 

"I can do that, but shit Vix, this is a real bust on my end," he grumbled before sighing lightly. "Guess I'll be busy with damage control then. I'll get it done, just give me some time to get everything in place."

"You got half an hour, make sure it's done," he said before pausing for a moment and sighing. "Sorry about this, I'll make it up to you," Isaac apologized before frowning in annoyance as Otto only let out a fit of laughter.

"Now that's rare, you, apologizing? That's usually my thing!" he only laughed some more before calming down with a sigh. "Don't worry about it, just buy me a drink later and don't get yourself killed. I'll have everything in place in a half hour," Isaac visibly relaxed a bit and nodded.

"Thanks," he muttered with a small smile before hanging up and running his hand through his hair as he looked up to the leader with a frown. "There, the package and a name will be delivered. It'll be in the Callisto district, east of the metro line," he informed him with an unpleasant expression on his face before looking down at his pack of smokes. "Mind if I have my smokes back? You guys have been a real pain today," he muttered, gesturing to the wounds covering his face.

"You're one to talk," the leader grinned, pointing to his own bandages. "Don't worry princess, we'll let you go back to your beauty sleep." He tossed Isaac back his cigarettes and directed the thugs to return his wallet. "I'd stick around and send a guy to confirm the package, but I have faith you'll follow through on your word. Next time we won't bother waking you up with a punch, just remember that." He pulled up his sleeve, taking a glance at his watch, and threw his coat over his shoulder. The three made their departure, with the leader stopping midway and still holding onto one of Isaac's business cards.

"Nice meetin' ya... Isaac. If for whatever reason my package doesn't turn up, you'll be hearing from me again. Swear to God, you've caused enough trouble for me and my little girl. Take it easy, champ."

Isaac let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his seat and running his hand through his hair as the leader and his goons finally left. He stared up at the streetlamp with a hardened expression, his mind lingering on the man's last statement. What was he talking about when he said mentioned his little girl? There weren't any children in that shithole they brawled in. It made him a bit uneasy, but the pain from his wounds kept him from thinking any farther on the subject, hissing in pain as he forced himself off the bench. "Son of bitch," he muttered as he began to make his way to the metro line, a slight limp accompanying him along the way. As he walked along, he thought about who that man worked for and what the hell that package was. Otto said this would have been a simple job, nothing too hot that would blow up on him. Yet here he was, beaten and his reputation as a freelance most likely in danger thanks to this blunder. His shoulders slumped slightly as he couldn't wrap his tired mind around the situation anymore, the only thought being of a warm shower, a cold beer along with some painkillers, and a soft bed to rest his bruised and exhausted body. Things looked bleak at the moment but with a long sigh, he steeled his nerves as he reached the metro line and entered the train. He'll bounce back and figure out what to do, he always does. For now, all he could do was collect himself, heal his wounds and plan his next move.