Khalifa couldn't avoid it any longer. Some shady characters were always milling about, and he didn't need to be told that they were the unfriendly sort. He used to have Ahmed's type for a while, but after Ahmed's death, people stopped coming. He knew what was happening, he was being pressured by The Order to pick a side.
He didn't want to.
But he didn't have a choice. He was just a bartender, yet he had to be involved in their stupid never-ending war.
My parents were right, helping others doesn't do any good.
"I'd stop thinking that if I were you," a powerfully built man in high-ranking military attire stepped into the bar, an eyepatch over one eye. He moved with a purpose and even with Khalifa's observation skills, he didn't see the man coming.
"Who are you?" He asked, making sure there was no trace of hostility in his tone.
