He looked up at the tall crumbling statue. It looked majestic and sad. "So this is Roanapur," said the man looking behind him at the tall conning tower of the old tramp steamer he was on. "The City of the dead you shore you want off here?" The Captain shouted down at him. He pulled out his firearm checked it was loaded and placed it back hanging under his armpit. "I'll take that as a yes," mumbled the Captain. The boat pulled into the dockyards and the crew started to unload their cargo. He walked down the gangplank passing the Captain handing over a wad of US dollars.
He then started walking through the crowded filthy streets looking for a specific address. He stopped and looked up at an aging hotel. He then went inside and straight up to the front desk. A little Asian woman dressed in black sat behind the desk. "Excuse me I'm looking for a Mr Reyes. I believe he's staying at this hotel," said the man and the woman continued to stare out of the doorway.
"We have no one here by that name," said the woman eventually and the man sighed.
"Maybe you just need something to help you remember," said the man placing a hand on the desk. When he removed the hand a small pile of US dollars sat facing the woman. She placed her hand on the desk and the dollars disappeared amongst her clothing. "I remember now someone with a name like that is up in room twelve," said the woman.
"Well thank you ma'am," said the man before he walked up the stairs on his left. The man walked slowly and calmly up to room twelve. He placed his hand in his jacket removed his firearm then placed his army kit bag on the floor and then knocked on the door. "Yeah what is it?" A voice called from within the room.
The man smiled before he kicked the door in and pointed his weapon at the naked man lying on an old dingy bed. The firearm went off like a cannon and it sounded like an explosion in the confined space. He watched as the man's head jolted backwards and the woman lying next to him screamed. The body rolled onto the floor and gun in its hand clattered down next to it. The woman grabbed a blanket and tried to cover herself up. "My apologies ma'am," said the man as he stepped over the body picked up the dropped weapon. He then picked up his bag and walked back out downstairs.
He placed the weapons away in his jacket and as he passed the desk he placed another couple of dollars down. "Sorry for the mess," said the man as he walked outside. He then pulled out a mobile phone from his jacket. He dialled a number then placed the phone to his ear. "It's done. I expect the rest of my payment within the week. If it doesn't arrive I'll track you down," said the man into the phone before throwing the phone into a rubbish bin he was passing. All that was on his mind now was where in this city could he find a decent drink.
He started walking up a hill following what appeared to be a highway. He found himself in front of a crowded bar called the 'Yellow flag'. He walked inside and was instantly greeted by every set of eyes in the bar glaring at him. The eyes then became satisfied that he was gutter trash like them and went back to whatever it was they were doing. He walked up to the bar, propped his bag against the bar and sat down on one of the stools next to a loud pair of women. "Bartender I'll take a beer please. Fosters if you have it," said the man and the bartender produced a tall glass containing a golden frothy liquid. "Hay there stranger," said a female voice beside him.
The man looked to his left to see a tall blonde in a small red shirt, a green denim skirt and a pair of pink sunglasses smiling at him. "Ma'am," said the man before he took a small drink from his beer. "So what are you doing here pretty boy. I ain't seen you around before and I think I would remember that face. So what is it come on spill it's not as if it's a crime here to break the law," said the woman. He turned his gaze upon her and then looked at the black pistol hanging under her arm. "I have just completed a job and now I am in search of a new one but before that I plan to have a vacation," said the man turning back to his drink.
"Job huh what was it murder? As if that's new around here. So we're you planning on taking this vacation? Hawaii, Jamaica or maybe Costa Rica," said the woman and the man continued to have his drink. "Actually I was planning on having it right here," said the man and the other woman sat one seat over on his left laughed. "You crazy bastard, here in Roanapur, a vacation and I thought Rock was crazy," said the new woman. He looked her up and down. She was a brunette also tall wearing a small black shirt, denim shorts and she carried two nickel plated Berretta M9's she also had a tattoo on her right arm.
"I found this city rather agreeable. Now if you'll excuse me lady's I'm going to try and find a room for the night," said the man before downing the rest of his beer. He left some dollar bills on the bar and walked out through the door. "Great well there goes my dick for the night," said the blonde returning to her drink.
He walked down the streets looking for a decent hotel in the city of crime. He settled on a brightly lit hotel down near the docks called the 'Seaside Hotel'. He walked up to the front desk and requested a single room. A tall man of European decent handed him a room key and pointed to the stairs. He thanked the man and walked upstairs. He unlocked the third door he came too and walked inside his room.
It was small. It contained a bed, a wardrobe and a table but also had an attached bathroom. There was nothing in the way of carpet but it was suitable. A bed after all is still a bed. He placed the kit bag down on the bed then placed his jacket on the bed post. He took out the weapon he had picked up from Reyes. It was a Russian Tokarev TT-30 semi-automatic pistol. It's a museum piece not worth much in street value.
He opened up his kit bag and took out several black boxes. He then found the blue box he was looking for a British Army weapon cleaning kit. He opened it up and proceeded to take apart the TT-30 and clean it. When he had finished he took out his own pistol from his shoulder holster. He unloaded the Smith and Wesson Model 29-2. It was a custom model that he had bought of a friend with a 10⅝ inch long barrel. On the grips it had the depiction of woman undressing on one side then a quote on the other "Man's got to know his limitations"-Harry. "Jack worshipped those movies," he said quietly to himself as he started to clean the famous 44 Magnum.