A single RV was where the old man liked to stay. It was in the middle of a clearing. The best hideouts were on high ground or clearings, that way the visibility was high. It gave the ones hiding a chance to escape, hide more, or prepare a defense. Charlotte was clever to choose her military hideout. Not only was it well-stocked and had a decent amount of food, but it was comfortable too. Ivan suggested searching for an armory while they were there. Unfortunately, the base ceased operations before an armory could be built. That meant no assault rifles. No snipers, no shotguns. Nothing.

The snow had stopped not long ago, but Ivan still trembled from the breeze brushing by. It didn't help that there were no trees around to capture some of the air. It went straight through Ivan as he tip-toed to the pale RV with tan lines running down the body of the vehicle. Having an RV meant the man could move around whenever danger was near. In general, he stayed in this one spot. It was perfect for him. Quiet, and rarely any visitors.

He wasn't a big name in the Underworld. A handful of clients suited him well, and he rarely helped new people unless Ivan personally said he could trust them. The fact that he wasn't a huge name made him the ideal candidate for them. It was less likely that assassins looking for score would come out to meet this man of all people. Ivan had far more prestigious contacts that would be checked first. Not to mention this man's location was more hidden.

Jericho was by his side as they went, Charlotte not far behind. Her legs were bothering her from the constant pace they were keeping. Kayden was with her, helping her along the way. Ivan did his best not to stare. The hideout was far more important.

"This contact of yours," Jericho said, Ivan shifting to face him. "Are you sure he won't sell us out?"

"He has no reason to. He does his few clients and gets paid, but money has never been something he's cared for. A quiet life out here is all he needs."

"Watch him still charge us extra," Jericho mumbled, and Ivan couldn't disagree.

They went up to the RV, the crew stopping. Jimin circled around to ensure they weren't being followed about 10 minutes ago. If anyone could determine if they were followed, Jimin could. Ivan chose to trust that. For the time being, anyway.

Dirt was more like mud from the snow that poured down on them earlier. Their shoes swooshed and sloshed in the substance, kicking up whatever dry dirt was left. A change of clothes was what Ivan craved most. Or a shower. A shower would be second on his list. Although he'd prefer both at the same time. When he was king, he could have taken a bath in his riches. Now everything was gone.

Ivan made that choice and didn't regret it. He wasn't even shocked. Charlotte was still adjusting, as was Jimin. However, Jimin was adjusting more to Ariel's presence than their actual situation. Kayden was handling it better than Ivan expected, and Asa and Theo weren't surprised. They caused it, so Ivan was sure they were half-expecting, or preparing for, this outcome.

Without glancing at Jericho for permission, Ivan stepped up to the RV and pounded on the door. There were a few seconds of quiet. The old man might have been peeking through the peephole or checking curtains to see who it was. They had their codename system no one knew about. If the old man didn't recognize Ivan from the years they had worked together, Ivan still had his codename to fall back to. As soon as the door opened, he grinned.

"Inner Child," Ivan said, the name feeling foreign on his lips. It had never been a thought in his mind that he'd have to use it. It was an emergency name only. Yet there he was.

The old man's face didn't change at all. He still had an edge to him that made him more intimidating than he was. His chin was drooping from his age, wrinkles bringing out his eye bags and his hair that was almost gone. What was left was a pure, pristine white Ivan didn't think could be achieved naturally. Especially when he was living in an RV of all places. The RV wasn't massive by any means. Surely he had a shower, but it had to be tiny at best.

"Ivan Belmour," he said, and Ivan just noticed the knife he was holding in his left hand while his right held the door open. "I never thought I'd see the day we'd cross paths again. My business is run by the books. No one comes out looking for me anymore. What inspection are you running this time, and why do you need so much backup?"

"Unfortunately, this isn't an inspection, old friend. We need your help."

"You? The king of the Underworld?" he asked, and Ivan bit back the urge to deflate from that comment.

"You haven't been keeping up with the news?" He shook his head. "My friends and I are on the run from some dangerous people. We need a hideout and supply runs once a month." Right before he could speak, Ivan held up his hand. "We have a kid, Mr. Dumont. She deserves safety. She got dragged into this."

"Why didn't you let her go?"

"She was the daughter of another mafia. A rival of Miss Evermore's. I'm sure you know her, yes?" He hummed to confirm that. "Mr. Seong, Miss Evermore's right hand, took her in for interrogation. They happened to be together when chaos broke out. The kid ended up following. It's too late to let her go now, her face is associated with ours."

Mr. Dumont kept his face stern, his cyan eyes scanning over Ivan's body. "You look like shit."

"Considering all I've been through, that's being generous." Ivan stepped a bit closer, Mr. Dumont backing up into the safety of his RV.

Like Mr. Dumont's comments on Ivan's appearance, if Ivan were to say the RV was messy, that'd be a generous remark. There were magazines and maps all over the floors, a table with coffee stains on it sitting near the back of the RV. There were dark spots on the walls that varied from shades of chestnut to shades of black. Ivan chose not to linger on the interior, and he focused on the task at hand.

"We'll need new IDs," Ivan said, coming inside without asking. "That and disguises. Anything you have will work, and I'll pay extra to make it happen. Wigs, sunglasses, colored contacts, masks - whatever. Anything to conceal our identity."

"Sounds more like a heist than a hideout."

"We can't spend the rest of our lives in hiding. This isn't something that'll just calm down. If we go out 20 years from now, the same risk of getting shot applies. Assassins don't care. They'll do it in public if they have to. Anything for gold coins and cash."

"The Underworld still uses gold coins?" Mr. Dumont asked.

"Only for Underworld services. Weapons, cleanups, hotel rooms. Anything falling under those services. I can get you gold coins, if you'd like. I doubt I'll be needing them anytime soon."

Mr. Dumont sized him up and down, then allowed the others to pile in. Ivan went deeper inside and realized he was right about the shower. The bathroom was cramped, a tiny square with walls that looked like they'd fall apart any second. All it took was a sharp breeze, then poof, have of Mr. Dumont's RV would be gone. It didn't help that it smelled of rotting cheese.

There was duct tape covering what Ivan was sure were holes in the walls. The actual driver's section was empty, the RV turned off. There was a bobble head of some sports figure Ivan didn't recognize. It was on the dashboard, bobbing up and down whenever the footsteps became too much. Ivan felt bad about dragging in mud, but at the same time, Mr. Dumont was messier than Ivan had ever been in his life. He doubted the man even noticed, let alone cared.

While the others spoke amongst themselves, Ivan went to Mr. Dumont and cleared his throat. "I'm willing to discuss prices. There's 8 of us. Potentially 9." At the man's eyebrow raise, Ivan had to fight not to sigh. "There's another who I have to contact. Do you mind if I borrow your phone and get the directions to the place?" Ivan asked.

"You can try, but I barely get signal out here. If anyone else has any phones, get rid of them immediately. I'll drive you to the hideout myself, so make yourselves comfortable. Feel free to shower, you smell worse than me."

Ivan snorted as the man went to his map, marking it up. He peeked over his shoulder as the coordinates were spotted. Mr. Dumont spoke about the hideout, but the details were fuzzing in his mind. Processing them was the most difficult task he had ever done. It was all because one man was on his mind. The one who could determine their fates.

Byun June.

~~~

After ironing out the details of the plan and taking pictures for their fake IDs, it was determined that they'd stay overnight in the RV. It was a tight fit, but just like the bunker, they made it work. Ivan remained outside. The night sky was as terrifying as it was gorgeous. He admired darker color schemes. His clothes were a reflection of that. So were all the buildings he used to own. The nightclub had light shades, but that was about the brightest it got for him.

His mind flashed to June. There was one man who could help them with the High Council, and that was June. It pained Ivan to admit that. Despite their old relationship, Ivan still had mixed feelings about the assassin. He was young. Him and Charlotte were the same age, only one year older than Ivan's best friend. Jimin sat at 25, and June and Charlotte at 24. It was almost ironic how so much had happened to them that early. Charlotte a mafia leader, June an assassin that had many talents. Ivan wasn't exactly the oldest, that was Asa and Jericho at 30 and 28. Regardless, he had to admire how far his friends had come at such a young age.

Of June's talents, tracking down targets was the most useful to Ivan at that time. The High Council needed to be stopped. It was the only way they could get a new life. If June could help them, then they had a fighting chance. They'd have someone who still had access to the Underworld's services. No one would suspect the man who exposed them to work for them. That made no sense. June ruined their lives just so he could help them later? It was a perfect cover.

Now all that was left was getting June. And that would take a miracle.

The rectangle in Ivan's hands was the old man's flip phone. Trusting June with the hideout's location was potentially the dumbest thing he would ever do. He admitted that trusting the man who put them in this situation was beyond stupid. It was straight up idiotic. The problem was, they needed a backup plan. If Ivan's museum plan didn't work, they were out of luck. At least with June, they had a fighting chance. Ivan asked the others what they thought, and although cautious, they were fine with the idea. Reluctantly fine with it, anyway. And with that, he dialed the number and waited.

In two rings, the line picked up. Ivan couldn't tell if the signal was bad, or if June wasn't breathing. It could have been both. June was known not to speak first over the phone, and Ivan respected that by opening his mouth.

"I'm a dumbass for trusting you with this," he said, and he heard June's breath hitch. That confirmed the signal was just strong enough to reach him. "I know you're researching the High Council, and I know you wouldn't do that unless you cared at least a little about us. If not me, then someone else here. We have a kid. We have people here who don't deserve it. They're on the run because of Asa, Theo, and Charlotte's actions, not their own. Please, don't tell what I'm about to tell you to anyone else."

"I can't guarantee anything, but I'll at least think about it."

"I appreciate that. The others are relying on me, and I really hope I'm making the right call. We're not at the hideout yet, but we will be tomorrow. We'll need your help to get access to the High Council and the Underworld. I'll pay whatever you want me to pay, I don't care. June, I'm begging you. I need your help. If you don't help me, then this is the last time we'll ever speak."

There was no answer. So, Ivan recited the coordinates to the hideout. Each number that slipped by made his eyes swell, his vision weakening. Ivan didn't know what being blind was like, but he was sure it felt a bit like that. The fatigue his eyes felt, the desire to close his lids and rest, the inability to make out his surroundings. They were the same from before. A clearing with more mud than dirt. If only Ivan could see that.

He finished less than a minute later. June was still silent, but his breathing confirmed the line was still going. "You have every right to take revenge against me," Ivan said. "If you want to come here and beat me to death, or beat me like they beat you, then I won't stop you. I deserve it. But please. For their sake, for the kid's sake... help us." Again, silence. When nothing else came, Ivan hung up and rubbed his nose with his fingers.

"Still fawning over the asshole?" Jericho's voice said.

Ivan swiveled and saw him leaning against the front door to the RV. He trotted down the two steps it had, hopping on the grass and waltzing over. He halted by Ivan's side, and they agreed to let his words sink in for a few beats. Then, and only then, Ivan replied.

"What are you doing out here? Charlotte kick you out?"

"If she did, I'd be into it," Jericho replied, shifting so their eyes could lock. "I mostly came out here to check on you. You randomly show up and offer us help, leaving your entire Underworld behind. I'm grateful, but that's not the Ivan Belmour I know."

"That's not the Ivan Belmour anyone knows. Not even me." He paused, his mouth searching for his next words. "But that's not what's important."

"Then what is?"

"Would it be weird to say I don't know?" Jericho didn't show signs of agreeing or disagreeing. He remained stoic, his arms draped over his chest as he moved his eyes to the horizon. "For the longest time, I wasn't sure how to feel about you."

"How so?" Jericho asked.

"June and I know what you did." Jericho's face went three shades lighter than it had ever been before. "Seeing as you're still alive, I'm assuming no one else knows?"

"Of course not." Jericho ran a hand through his hair and gripped the locks. Funny. It was almost like he was desperate. "I can't remember a time I've felt remorse in my life. It was always about getting to the next step. Going higher on the ladder. Ruling more people, having more power. But now? That will always be the one thing I regret. Always."

"You should tell him." When Jericho went to speak, Ivan cut him off. "I've done terrible things, so who am I to judge you on that? Does a part of me hate you for it? Yeah. Actually, most of me hates you for it, and we'll never be friends because of it. The point is, I can't judge you when we've all done similar."

Jericho either didn't want to reply, or he didn't have the strength to. Ivan knew what he did, June too. However, it was Jericho's secret to tell. So just like Jericho, he refused to speak more on it. They needed to focus on the future. But for one more moment, Ivan allowed himself to slip into the past.

"I killed my first person when I was thirteen," Ivan said, Jericho listening but not replying. "Some older woman who was going to donate all her riches to charity. My boss signed a kill order on her, gave me the assassination honor. After, he'd send in a team to clean up and get the money. Because of that money, my world was able to grow, and I became one of the most powerful people in the Underworld.

"I killed an innocent old woman at thirteen because I wanted power. I was nothing. Just a little, confused boy with nothing better to do. I thought that by having power, it made me better. A better person with a brighter future. And for a while, I copied the High Council. They're always throwing parties, always disguising a Council meeting as an outdoor concert. So I did that too. Countless parties, meetings disguised as concerts, kill orders on innocents. Turns out power only made me weaker.

"June may be an asshole, but he always saw things as they were. He's been right about me this whole time. I sold him out to keep my Underworld safe. I told myself I didn't over and over again until I believed it, but June called me out on that. I only ever cared about my pride. My ego. Nothing else. I guess I didn't realize that until the people I thought were my friends started fighting for something greater than themselves. Jimin and Charlotte especially."

Jericho finally found his voice, placing his hand on Ivan's shoulder. "I've been caught up in my world too. I've fucked up everything so far. With you, Kayden, Charlotte... Jimin. They wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me. I made my choice, and it hurt them too," Jericho said.

"You made your choice, just like how they made theirs. Charlotte followed you, and that says a lot." Ivan broke off, Jericho tilting his head at that. "You like her, don't you?" Based on the way he averted his eyes, that was a yes. "When are you gonna tell her?"

Jericho stared out at the horizon, the moon not as bright as it had been for the rest of the week. Clouds that might have been left over from the snow were still in the sky. It blocked light from getting through, but the rays that did tickled Jericho's face, illuminating his dilated eyes before he answered.

"Soon."

~~~
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