Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 139: Loyalty Over Hardware

Number Six flinched, his big frame shrinking slightly. "Before we left, Ms. Townsend warned us—anyone who lost a firearm shouldn't bother coming back. I didn't take a firearm..."

He was glad he'd been too slow to grab one. Otherwise, the guy who lost the gun could've been him, and he'd probably be out on the street, too.

Mariella raised a brow. "You think I fired them because of two missing guns?"

In her eyes, the hardware was never the thing that mattered most.

Weapons could be replaced. Trust between teammates, once broken, could never be rebuilt.

"Those two led a group of thugs straight to No. 98. They talked their way through the gate, and the moment they were exposed, they tried to bolt. They sold out their teammates without a second's hesitation—and felt nothing about it. Keeping people like that on your team is asking for a stab in your back."

Number Six was starting to understand. "So, you didn't fire them for losing valuable weapons. You fired them because they'd lost their conscience."

Mariella lifted the corner of her mouth. "Smart."

Number Six finally relaxed, and a small smile broke through.

"I will never betray you, Ms. Townsend. Even if I lose a weapon, I'll come back. As long as I give it everything I've got, you won't cut me loose. Right?"

...

Harvey had successfully seized Imperial Crest Plaza and Greenfield Organic Farm, gaining a massive stockpile of supplies and completely escaping his former desperation.

Now he had the muscle to stand toe-to-toe with Vere.

Roxanna nestled against him, eyes red, voice sweet and wheedling. "Harvey, now that you're strong enough, you have to avenge me. Kill that Vere bastard. Make him suffer."

Harvey had no interest in provoking Vere right now. He just wanted to hold Celestine Ridge. "I'd rather kill Mariella."

Roxanna broke into a smile through her tears. "Kill Mariella first. Then Vere."

Harvey didn't respond. He turned to Damian. "Have those two bodyguards from No. 98 made contact with their inside man yet?"

Damian answered quickly, "Not yet, but they were pretty useful last night. Credit where it's due."

Harvey scoffed. "Last night would've worked with or without them. They keep dragging their feet—are they even real, or are they stringing me along?"

Roxanna's eyes turned. She offered, sweetly, "Whether or not the inside man is real, let's bring those two in and debrief them on everything inside No. 98. The more we know, the better our odds."

Mariella softened her tone, trying to reassure Number Six. "Take it easy. Rest up. You're off drills for now and off any operations. Everything waits until you're healed." Mariella's voice was warm.

Number Six looked uneasy. "These are surface wounds. My arms are fine. I can still do shooting drills."

The world outside had already gone to hell. He wasn't about to sit around being comfortable.

He was terrified that even the slightest drop in performance would get him cut.

Outside Celestine Ridge, the world was collapsing.

Most of his former colleagues and friends were gone. He had no idea how he'd survive alone.

Mariella saw the fear in the back of his eyes and understood exactly what was going through his head.

"By the way, I hear you know how to tan leather. You've been working on those crocodile hides. How are they coming along?"

The change of subject worked. Number Six's tension visibly eased.

"Almost done curing. I put them out on the roof terrace to dry today. Another month or so and they'll be proper leather."

Mariella was genuinely interested. "Yesterday, I traded with Denton for some fresh hides. Can you work with those?"

"What kind?" Number Six leaned in.

Mariella thought for a second, counting on her fingers. "Cowhide. Sheepskin. Pigskin."

"Absolutely." Number Six was confident. "Tanned right, those make excellent shoes and belts."

"And the crocodile hide?"

Number Six didn't even have to think about it. "Handbags. No question."

Mariella made her reservation on the spot. "I'm placing an order. One bag for me."

"Done. But I'll need some specialty dyes and tools for the processing. I don't have everything."

Mariella smiled. "Write me a list. Denton can handle it."

She called Number Eight over to help grab something from the storeroom.

Inside, under the cover of rummaging, she pulled the butchered livestock hides from her storage space and handed them to Number Eight.

"Help Number Six out. He's injured—some things are hard for him to manage on his own right now."

Number Eight hoisted the hides onto his shoulder and gave her a long, quiet look. "Ms. Townsend, you're being really good to Number Six."

He and Number Six were close. Mariella had clearly noticed that, which was why she'd assigned him to help.

"Honestly, Number Six is rattled. He's afraid you're going to hold the mission failure and the lost gear against him, and he's afraid Number Four and Number Seven's betrayal is going to make you suspicious of him, too. Giving him something to do is the best thing for his head right now."