Chapter CXII: In the Halls of the Mountain Kingpin

 Dimon looked over the horizon through his binoculars. Week had passed since Redemption leadership had returned. Well, what remained of it. Valik had been a broken man, Stepukha drowned himself at the bottom of a vodka bottle, Toha and Leva remained quite detached and quiet. The disappearance of most of their leaders had crippled Redemption, some of the rookies had deserted and joined different sides of the bandit civil war only to perish mere days later or become even more vile and pitiful than before.

The faction was at its low point. Nobody knew what to do, everyone was waiting for a miracle. But some sense of comradeship, some sense of belonging kept them around, kept them waiting. Boris, Dima and Vityukha, now lost to the depths of a space bubble, possibly forever, had however left their marks into the former criminals and outcasts. For a brief period of time, they had had a feeling previously unknown to them during their years as thugs or killers, hope. Hope that someday, they would be something more. Heroes, not likely, but allies. Comrades-in-arms. Trusted. And this little string of hope still remained as an ember, keeping the faction together bar for few lost ones.

And one day, this ember was relit. Dimuha, the last one of the original four founders of Redemption, smashed a bottle to the ground, stomped out from his seat next to a large piece of machinery serving as their ad-hoc bar and stumbled out. Once out, he violently retched the contents of his stomach out and raised his eyes to the pitch-black sky. His drunken stupor was dissipating, his watery eyes drying. And for the first time since returning to Meadow, to Redemption, he saw clearly.

• Time for wallowing in self-pity must end. This isn't helping the guys up north, he murmured angrily before sighing.

He returned inside, full of new-found determination. And it led to Dimon now, standing outside the Dark Valley bandit base, scanning the rolling hills ahead of him. When Dimuha broke out of his depression, he kicked everyone back to gear. Orders, insults, encouragement, empathy and roaring, he rallied the men back around him, rekindled their faith in the faction. Dimon had been on the verge of leaving too, having only joined after most of the veterans had started the great push north, but seeing Dimuha, a formerly broken husk of a man, turn into such a firebrand, he needed to learn where such things came from.

Now however, he was here on a mission. He would need to stop dwelling on these deep thoughts. Besides, it was as if he had just seen a shadow dart past some trees near the rancid lake. As if the figure had worn a uniform with green, red and white spots... Weird.

• Ahem. May I ask what you're doing here? Before I pepper you with rounds for trespassing, a heavily-accented voice said behind him and Dimon practically jumped, turning to face a bandit in a blueish grey Sunset suit.

• Uh... I'm admiring the local wildlife. Mighty fine boars you got here, Dimon said.

• I see... No, but really, who sent you here and for what?, the bandit questioned, waving his Colt handgun impatiently.

• Okay. I'm here to check on what you guys are up to. Hell, you guys have been shooting each other up for months now, one wonders if there is any goodwill left to us ex-renegades and -bandits. What's with the accent though? You a snaileater or something?

• Ma dai? Not in a million years, I'm Italian. Name's Jonny Impossible. Pardon my rather harsh entrance, I needed to make sure you Redemption fellas weren't trying your luck on us too, the bandit replied.

• Nope, I'm here to establish contact with Olivius. You his men?

• Yes, working for him still, Livid is too... well, livid and Black Slugs are the absolute worst. And Klenov has no power south, he's utterly useless.

• What about the new guy? I hear rumours he's so brutal he puts Livid's degenerates to shame.

• Were you tying shoelaces when the brains were given out or something? Didn't I just say the Black Slugs are absolute worst, you think I'd join the even worse option, Jonny mocked.

• But if they're the absolute worst... Oh forget it. So, Olivius, will you take me to him? I have a message from our leader.

• From Boris? He's alive?, Jonny asked, astounded, but Dimon could only grimly shake his head.

• No. Dimuha Loaf, Olivius should remember him. He was one of the more experienced bandits before he joined Boris and Redemption, continued Dimon with a frown.

• I see. I'll take you to Olivius, but remember. Try anything funny, and you're dead. Capisci?

• Hey, I'm not funny at the best of times, let's just go okay?, Dimon replied with a smirk.

• Fine. Let's move, the bandit growled.

Dimon and his new bandit guide passed under the tunnel with a circling Fireball anomaly, feeling the heat on their skin as the ball of flames flew by. They dropped down from a small ridge and continued onwards, until they reached the cliffs at the edge of Dark Valley. The Italian bandit threw a few paranoid looks around the hills around them and then moved a grate out of the way of a pipe, barely larger than drain pipes under roads but large enough for a man to crawl in.

• There? Seriously?, Dimon exclaimed.

• You wanted to meet Olivius? Go, before Livid's boys get us.

Dimon grumbled a few choice curses but did as asked. The tunnel was damp, but not unpleasant to crawl in, although he had to admit his claustrophobia was not giving him a break. Seconds stretched into minutes, and all he could see and hear was the tunnel lit by his flashlight and the laboured breathing of his. But metre by metre, they progressed, until finally warm light glimmered at the edge of the pipe. Dimon stumbled out of the pipe into a rough, earth-walled room, straight into three sawn-off shotgun pipes.

• Redeemed? Didn't you guys call it quits already when your boss croaked?, one of the surprised bandits asked as Jonny crawled out of the pipe as well.

• And if it isn't our resident Italian. Why you bringing this urod here?, another bandit questioned the newcomer.

• I'm here to meet Olivius, my boss, Dimuha Loaf sent me, Dimon said before Jonny could even get up.

• He's speaking the truth, I brought him to meet the bossman, Jonny confirmed.

• Fine. You, Redemption suka, follow me. Jonny, Limpid needed you.

• Okay. See you around, Redemption man, the bandit said and turned around, heading into the other side of the small room.

With the ruckus caused by their entrance dying down, Dimon could observe the room. It was more of a cavern than a proper room honestly, filled with small twists and turns with the occasional part of concrete or rebar sticking out of the mud and earth walls. There were chairs and tables and closets leaning against the walls or standing next to few small campfires, and about a dozen rough-looking bandits. Rough in the sense that they seemed to have gone through hell. The bandit that acted as his guide led him into one of the side tunnels, where the cavern turned into a proper room. It was still cramped and dimly lit, but clearly more than just a hole in the ground. There was a desk there, and a bandit with a tank helmet on his head and glasses on his nose reading a book. "War and Peace", Dimon could make out on its cover.

• Olivius. Some Redemption idiot came to visit you, the bandit who had escorted Dimon said.

• Eloquent as always, Pashka. But yes, take a seat, Redemption man. What are you here for? What brings you to our mountain resort?, Olivius offered, pointing at a chair nearby.

• Name's Dimon Manul. I'm Dimuha's courier, he sent you this. Everything you need to know is in that letter, Dimon said, giving Olivius a brown envelope that the bandit leader opened up and read.

• I see... I do understand your plight, and as Dimuha says, I do owe him for that one time in Truck Cemetery, but as you can see my boys are hardly in fighting shape. Livid's degenerates are kicking our teeth in every chance they get, Klenov is an asshole and a worm and Shishak is back, having let go of his softness ever since Degtyarev put a bullet in his stomach and left him to bleed out. I don't have men to give for your expedition, the bandit trader turned leader explained.

• And what if you had your base back? What if Livid was somehow dealt with?, Dimon asked.

• That would open up certain possibilities for sure. I could resist Shishak if I had the Dark Valley walls for cover.

• In that case, one second, Dimon replied and pulled out his PDA, typing a single sentence.

• What was that?, Olivius asked.

• It was a signal, a go-ahead. You'll see, Dimon said with a mischievous grin.

And mere seconds went by, when rifle fire begun in the distance. Redemption had returned.