Black Lagoon: Urban Black

It was noon; The Sun was peaking high in the sky and the air was heavy and humid. On the deck of a lone ferry, stood two men. The first, the younger one, smoked a cigarette as he peered over the railing, gazing upon the city creeping its way into view. "So that's Hell, huh? Doesn't look that menacing from here," he spoke in his native Russian. The young man turned his head towards the other person, a few years older than him. "I guess that makes you, "Charon the Ferryman" and me the "poor unfortunate soul." The older of the two glanced towards the other through his red tinted sunglasses. Rolling up his sleeves and adjusting his tie, he spoke up. "Hell? Da... but you, Arkady, an unfortunate soul? Doubtful," came a reply in the same Russian tongue. "You seemed to be more than ready for this the last time I checked." The young man, identified as Arkady, scoffed at the comment. "Cyka blyat! This fucking hangover I'm fighting through is my concern now. Definitely, tells me I'm unfortunate. Think it's a bad omen, Sasha?" "Sasha" was the nickname for his brother, the older man, Aleksandr.

Aleksandr shook his head. He knew that his brother Arkady had spent previous nights drinking himself into a stupor. "A way of celebrating," as he put it. Aleksandr could very well remember the course of events. It took him quite a while to rouse him from the slumber he was lost in that morning, in order for them to keep up with their schedule. Arkady meanwhile had gone back to focusing out at the water as they edged closer to a harbor. He took another drag on his cigarette, his mind drifting back to the moment that led him here.

Weeks ago, Tallinn, Estonia

Arkady was seated in the rear of a small, somewhat empty café, save for a few late morning customers. He felt completely out of place in his usual Gopnik street clothing, while the people passing through wore their finest business suits and outfits. Across the room, he glanced up at a small TV, anxiously. The semi-static filled screen displayed a heated match between two rival football clubs. His heel tapping the floor repeatedly with anticipation, as his favored team sought to score a goal. However, he knew his focus could not be dedicated to the game, remembering why he was there in there, to begin with. It had only been a week before when Arkady had suddenly received a letter from an individual claiming to be his brother. He had not seen or heard from his brother in almost a decade. In his mind, Arkady had figured his older brother, Aleksandr, had been long gone or just dead plain and simple. This was not the case. A cold sweat fell upon him as the thought crossed his mind. In the letter, a mention of a place and time to meet was arranged, and here he was bright and early. He could tell that someone had just entered the front end of the café as his eyes fell upon his hands. Hands that were marked with various gang and prison tattoos.

It dawned on him that he had spent longer than intended staring down, as the person who had entered was now standing in front of him. The young criminal glanced upward. "Jesus Christ... after all this time, you're fucking alive…," he trailed off. His eyes were fixated on his brother's face, no longer was it youthful and untouched. It bore the damage of a soldier's career. He could see a long narrow scar over Aleksandr's left eye, which had now become a lighter shade than the opposite. "Blyat, Sasha, what the fuck happened to you?!" Arkady commented with concern in his voice. His brother was as quiet as he could remember, the expression on his face hardly changing from its serious demeanor. "I could ask you the same thing," his brother replied.

Aleksandr had been looking at the tattoos on his brother's hands as well. One quick look over gave him all the information he needed to know. He was aware that Arkady had been incarcerated and the tattoos were an organized story of everything he had done while behind bars. He could pick up on the few that noted he was a thief. By now, he had made a full-fledged career out of lying, cheating, and stealing. A true bandit. One tattoo, in particular, made it known that he was a hired killer as well. This was not known to Aleksandr. It was quiet for a moment until the older brother began to speak. "A few years ago, in Chechnya" he began, while staring out of the window they were seated next to. "We were sent in to save an armored column that had been ambushed by the rebels. I was injured by shrapnel from a mortar. From what I was told, we were locked in a firefight for over four hours... blacked out sometime after. My memory of what happened is a blur. I woke up in a field hospital the next day. A doctor told me that I was permanently blind in that eye and they would have to send me home to recover. An hour later, I was back with my unit gearing up for another mission. They kept me alive, so I would do the same for them. Always." As he finished the story it grew quiet again.

Arkady sat back in his seat with a look of concern and amazement. He had heard about the war from others, the misery, the fear, the hate. All of it. His brother had somehow gone to the edge and back, living to tell the tale. He also knew that his brother was a different man because of it. A specter of the haunted battlefield. Even still, Arkady was impressed by this but knew it was not a topic to dwell on. "So now what? I know you're not here just to fill me in on war stories. What's this really about? Idi nahui, we haven't seen each other in almost ten fucking years and suddenly you appear out of thin air?" Arkady spoke in a half joking/half serious tone. In his mind, he knew it was something much sinister.

Aleksandr continued. "When we returned home from the Caucasus, nothing had changed. We were frustrated and lost in the fog of war. Restless lives without a cause. Then "they" found me, the same people that helped me track you down. Hotel Moscow." Arkady's eyes widened as he looked away from his brother. He was familiar with the name, lots of gangsters were. They were hardcore criminals, not like the ones Arkady had grown up with. Those people were ex-soldiers and killers to the core. Above all else, they valued honor and discipline. It was no wonder they had brought his brother into their fold. "Once they found out who we were and what we had done, they offered my squadmates and I a chance to work with them and we accepted. For us, it was no different than what we did for the government. I joined on the condition that they help me track you down so that I could see you again in person. During that process, they began to show interest in your work. Now they would like me to extend the offer of a job to you."

This came as a surprise to Arkady. He wasn't aware that anyone had been keeping tabs on him and what he had been doing for the last few years. He was certain that he had made sure of it a long time ago. The good news was that it wasn't the cops or some agency looking for him. Instead, he figured he might have just found his way into an elusive and powerful criminal outfit. What was there to lose? He hadn't worked a job in weeks and he had grown tired of drifting around. This was his chance to get out and try his hand at something new. Arkady stood up, giving the chair under him a light kick away. "Pohui, I'm in." he gave his brother a grin and a pat on the shoulder. Abruptly, his focus moved back to the television. His eyes widened as his arms shot upwards furiously as he began to cheer!

"SHIT YOU FOOLS DID IT, BLYAT! I AM INVINCIBLE! WE WON AND I AM GETTING FUCKING PAID!" Arkady's expression had changed instantly from excited to embarrassed when he realized his brother and a few other people had been staring at him. "Chto? Don't give me that look debil. I had money on this game, I could not afford to miss it!" Aleksandr's eyebrow was now arched in bewilderment. "In any case, I will give you a few days to sort everything out here. Afterward, we'll be taking a flight to Thailand. We'll talk business then."

The Ferry, present day

"Roanapur, huh? Blyat sounds Russian enough. Should be easy to remember." Arkady formed a square with his thumbs and index fingers, mimicking a film director, as he began peeking through it. "After all, these locals are gonna elect me as the mayor of this place someday, just watch!" He exclaimed. Aleksandr rolled his eyes, failing to see the humor in his brother's joke, or the mere possibility that Arkady might be bold enough to mount such an insane effort. The young Russian shifted his view over and out to the massive stone carving of the Buddha and whistled. "Opa! They definitely do not have cool shit like this back home."

Aleksandr had stepped to the side. Removing a cell phone from his pocket he dialed a number and waited for the other line to answer. "Dobriy den', Kapitan, I hope all is well. Da, Arkady is with me, and we are right on schedule. We should be arriving at your office within the hour. I will see you very shortly." Arkady wasn't entirely fixated on the conversation, although he did pick up the gist of it. Whoever his brother was speaking with seemed to be very important. "Your girlfriend, Sasha? Sounds like your type. I wonder if she's as scary as you." Arkady said while feigning a shiver. Aleksandr glared at him. He knew his brother's sense of humor well enough to not encourage him. "Just be ready for this Arkady, do not do anything to embarrass yourself. The people you are meeting aren't your hooligan friends from home."

His brother seemed to get the message, after all, it was the only time he had ever shown up for a job interview, let alone one of this magnitude. A tense look formed on his face as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the sea. The minutes flew by as their ferry finally arrived at the city's port. The two made their way down to the ship's lower deck, approaching one of the many cars that had been stowed away for the journey. One at a time they entered the vehicle and began to wait for the ferry's ramp to descend. "Does it remind you of Vladivostok?" Aleksandr asked. The port city of Vladivostok was the place they used to call home. The last place they had seen each other before going their separate ways. Neither of them had ever gone back. When Aleksandr first arrived in Roanapur, it was the first thing to hit him. He had figured the same would happen to Arkady.

It was ancient history for the both of them by now. "Sort of, I guess. Too fucking hot and no drunken sailors fighting during fleet week." Before long, they were driving off into the city. After a short drive, the two arrived at the gates of a lavish compound, something akin to an international embassy. A moment passed until the gates moved to open. One of them men standing guard outside, spoke into a walkie-talkie as he waved at Aleksandr to pull in. "Just remember to stick close and don't wander off," said the older of the two.

Hotel Moscow's Headquarters

As the two made their way into the building, Aleksandr was greeted by several other people. Arkady had been fascinated by the scenery. It caught him off guard, the only word he could think of was a short "Opa," to himself. After exchanging a few greetings and handshakes, they made their way over to a set of stairs. At the top, the stairs stood a towering man. The older brother stopped to speak to him. "Dobriy den', Serzhánt Boris. Is the Kapitan currently in her office?" Arkady queried as he shook hands with the gentleman. "Zdravstvuyte, Tovarisch Ryzhkov. She's currently expecting you and is looking forward to meeting your brother!" The man named Boris turned to Arkady and gave him a nod. Once again the young criminal was surprised. The people here clearly followed a different set of rules and formalities than what he was accustomed to. "Right this way," said Boris as he led them through a long corridor.

The trio arrived at a set of double doors. Boris began to knock on one before awaiting a response. They were given the invitation to enter. "Ah, Tovarisch Ryzhkov, a pleasure to see you as always. And this must be the brother that I've heard so much about. Welcome! Please have a seat," Balalaika addressed Arkady, pointing to the chair in front of her office desk. "As for you, Serzhánt Boris and Aleksandr, that will be all for now. I will see to it that your brother finds his way to you after this." The sound of the door shutting behind them brought Arkady back to his senses. His mind still lingered on the words of the crime boss in front of him. "Holy shit, this lady has already stolen my heart and I just got here! Please marry me!" The young man bit down on his bottom lip as he thought to himself. There was no way that would ever happen, but he could always dream. "Now, Mister Ryzhkov, by now I believe you are aware of your presence here today. We've heard many things about you. Much like your brother, your reputation precedes you. We are very much interested in bringing you into the ranks of Hotel Moscow, but I would like to understand what kind of person you are. Davajte poznakomitsya. Right now, in your own words, I want you to tell me your story. Please, don't be discreet on my account, I want to hear details."

Arkady shook his head, realizing he had been staring at Balalaika for quite a while. Not to mention his mouth had been halfway open. "Oh, uh... so, where do I begin?" Arkady folded his arms and legs as he began to recount his story to the woman. "I was born in Vladivostok, I'm sure my brother Sasha, has already mentioned that. While he went off to be a soldier, I was busy being the "class clown". It didn't last long. I skipped school when I was 15, and I began running a crew with a group of friends. We were doing simple shit, robbing, and stealing, smuggling drugs and contraband, gambling. You know, fun responsible activities. After that I got picked up by a big crime boss, working as a mechanic on his luxury cars. Later, he bumped me up to his wheelman, driving him around on tons of errands. He taught me a lot about the industry, even told me I was going to be at the top someday. When I turned 19 that's when it all fell the fuck apart. Two nights after my birthday, me and three friends were working this job. It was simple, take three cars from Vladivostok, all the way to Arkhangelsk. Problem was, they were all stolen, however, we were able to get the documents forged and the plates swapped out. We were five hours from the city when the cops stopped me. The other two managed to slip away. As luck would have it, I happened to be driving the car that had been swiped from a Judge. His custom detailing was the dead give away. Of course, he was the guy who tried my case and you would not believe how hard the son of a bitch threw the book at me. 15 years. I didn't even flinch when I heard the sentence. I couldn't. Nothing else to do, and I wasn't going to snitch for anyone. They locked me in a koloniya, somewhere near Moscow. I must have been one of the few young people there, most of the other inmates were old men who had been there for several years, decades even. That was the first time I had learned the Code of Thieves."

"Vory v Zakone," said Balalaika as she took a drag on her cigar. "A very sacred and time-honored rule of law among prisoners since the time of the Bolsheviks. It's very rare these days to see someone who sticks to that tradition, especially someone as young as yourself, Mister Ryzhkov. I take it that you are aware of the consequences for violating such rules." Arkady gave her a sly smirk in response. He knew exactly. A traitor to the code could have anything from tattoos being carved or burned off their flesh or killed outright for a violation. He had seen or taken part in all the above at any given point. She leaned forward at her desk. "Please continue Mister Ryzhkov, I am very intrigued by your story."

Arkady cleared his throat and resumed speaking. "Five years in, I had my fill of that place. I had seen people suffer and die of disease, drugs... I lost a close friend when our rivals jumped us one night. I told the old guys that we should come up with a plan. We were all going to get out of that hell hole or die trying. They were reluctant at first, telling me tales of people who had tried to break free before. All of them had failed." Arkady stood up from his chair and approached Balalaika's desk. "What they didn't have before was me. A few weeks later, we got to work killing off crooked guards, the twisted fucks that killed my friend, and even the warden. One by one, every rotten bastard that made us suffer paid the price that day and we took our freedom back... I left the country the next day and I haven't looked back ever since. Good riddance, blyat. After that, I moved from place to place. Freelancing and taking up any well-paying gig from Belarus to Albania and beyond. Human trafficking, arms dealing, extortion, you name it, chances are, I was asked to do it."

By now Arkady had taken his seat again. He let out a heavy sigh and remained quiet. It was a lot to recall. A good portion of it had been things he had long forgotten about, or simply just never had a reason to explain. Balalaika continued to smoke her cigar, silently nodding her head. She pushed her chair back and made her way over to the young man in front of her. The only sound is the noise from her heels making contact with the floor. After pacing around him for a few moments, she sat down at the front of her desk.

"That was truly fascinating, Arkady. A man with experience. Exactly what I am looking for. I believe I will make a loyal soldat out of you yet. From this day forward, consider yourself a member of Hotel Moscow!" She smiled and extended her hand out to seal the deal. Arkady extended his in return, to him it felt like eons. Taking her hand in his, he firmly shook it and let go. He could feel himself sweating bullets. Once again, he was stuck in his thoughts. "I'm never going to wash this hand again, for as long as I live!" Arkady let out a nervous laugh. "Miss B, it's been a pleasure. I honestly cannot wait to work for you!" He said cheerfully. The newly hired member of Hotel Moscow jumped up and quickly departed the office.

Balalaika could only give an expression of defeat upon realizing that the man who had just left her office would have absolutely no idea how to navigate the sprawling compound, and somehow she had earned herself a new nickname to top it off. Meanwhile, after several minutes of wandering around, Arkady had finally caught up to his brother, who was deep in conversation with four others. Two men and two women. They stopped speaking when Arkady came closer, his brother turning around to greet him. "I take it everything went well, you're still in one piece," said Aleksandr. "Sure it's no big deal. You're now looking at the newest member of Hotel Moscow and Miss B's new best friend," came Arkady's reply. Seeing that the joke clearly did not land amongst the small gathering, he began to rub his neck and frown.

"Arkady, let me introduce you to Lavina Group. This is Marina Umarova, Dmitri Malenkov, Maksim Shevchenko, and Natalya Lem." One by one he pointed them out, each giving Arkady a brief greeting. Despite the pleasantries, he could only pick up the same vibes that his brother gave off. These people were very dangerous and very cunning. "Sorry to cut our conversation short. I still need to fill my brother in on a few things." The two of them stepped away and began walking towards the entrance they had arrived at earlier. "So now that you're officially in, I need to give you a heads up on what's next. First off you'll need these." Aleksander handed his brother a set of keys. "This is for your new house and car. Do not lose them. I just squared all of that away before you arrived." Arkady began inspecting the keys that he was given. The only thing he could pick up about the car was that it was a make and model local to the area, nothing he had ever seen before, he just hoped his brother was kind enough to not stick him with a rust bucket. He had been through enough of those to last a lifetime.

By now, Aleksandr and his brother had arrived back at the car. They entered it and drove off, back onto the city streets. "Second, you'll need some weapons and supplies for work. I know you have your Makarov with you, but you will need something with more stopping power if it comes down to it. Tomorrow we'll pick up the gear I ordered for you. Take good care of it. You fuck it up, the next one's on you. For now, I'm taking you into the city. You'll need to learn your way around if you plan on driving. Arkady rolled down the window and pulled a cigarette out of his pack. "Time to see the belly of the beast." He mumbled while flickering a lighter.

The Yellow Flag, later that evening

The hours passed as the two brothers navigated their way around the city, Aleksandr pointing out key landmarks and locations as they drove by. Arkady while impressed with his surroundings, was getting bored riding shotgun. The tour was a necessary evil to him. Suddenly he realized that the car was now being parked. "Come on this is our last stop for the night." The two of them made their way into a lightly crowded bar, typical for the beginning of the work week. As they approached the counter, Arkady began moving his view across the place.

He leaned towards his brother and whispered. "Sasha, this place, it reminds me of the ones in Latvia, I wonder if anyone has died here." The young man signed a knife across the throat with his thumb and made a gurgling noise. "Almost every damn night! If you're lucky you might just see all hell break loose in this dump." The person speaking was the establishment's owner and bartender, Bao. "Especially with that crowd over there, they're nothing but a pain in my ass!" He pointed towards a group of four patrons in the far corner, chatting away. One of them broke the conversation to reply. "Fuck you, Bao! Cheap prick!" exclaimed a dark-haired woman in a black tank top. The bartender shrugged it off and continued speaking to the pair in front of him. "In any case, don't add to my misery, tonight, punk. Welcome to the Yellow Flag. What can I do for you gentlemen?" Aleksandr spoke up. "A pleasure as always, Bao. Just a beer for me. For him..." He looked at his brother, prompting him to make a decision. "Uh, Rakia, if you have it. Vodka if you don't. I'm low maintenance, I swear."

"Kid, the people who order that shit are usually looking for a night in the drunk-tank or on the sidewalk. Just a word to the wise. Keep that kid on a leash if you have to, Al. One rakia and one beer coming up." As Bao began to prepare the order, Aleksandr and his brother continued speaking. "What's next am I gonna get accosted by an old guy with a glowing sword? Cyka blyat, this is hilarious. I am glad you brought me here." There was not much the older man could add. His brother was very fortunate to make it this far into Roanapur, unscathed. He hadn't been through the worst of it yet. "There's a lot you're not seeing. You haven't met Killer Maids and blood thirsty Commandos," said Aleksandr while he gazed upon the wall just behind the bar. Arkady was not sure if his brother was making some kind of joke. If he was, it was totally out of character for him.

He pushed that thought to the side when Bao returned with their drinks. A glass of amber liquor for Arkady, and what appeared to be a regional selection beer for Aleksandr. Aleksandr handed Bao a few notes of money and signaled for his brother to follow him as he stood up. As they walked further from the bar, Arkady took notice that they were now approaching the group of people that the bartender had spoken of earlier. He could now clearly see the four. A tall guy in green combat gear, a bespectacled gent wearing an orange floral shirt, the dark-haired woman that had screamed at Bao earlier, and lastly another guy that seemed to stand out worse than Arkady had felt he had. This person was dressed similar to his brother, but he wore short sleeves and a teal tie. "Well if it isn't the "Grim Reaper of Hotel Moscow," spoke the first man. "Taking a night on the town?" Aleksandr shook his hand and took a seat at the table. "If only…" As Arkady pulled a chair up next to his brother, the groups' eyes focused in on him.

"Hey Al, who's the Brighton Beach breakdancer?" Asked the woman. Arkady was visibly displeased with the comment. He took several gulps of his liquor and gave a simple wave. "Arkady, meet the crew of the Black Lagoon. Lagoon crew, this is my brother, Arkady. These people are mercenaries that work closely with Hotel Moscow. You will be seeing them around frequently." They each took a brief moment to introduce themselves. Dutch was the name of the tall guy in combat gear, followed by Benny, the one with the glasses. The woman from earlier didn't seem to be paying attention to much other than the drink in her hands so that introduction was left up to the last person, the odd man. He introduced the woman as Revy and himself as Rock. This puzzled Arkady even further. As far as nicknames go, that definitely didn't match his appearance. He could only assume there was more to this character than he led on. "Look at that, I guess you're not the new guy in town anymore!" Benny teased, giving Rock a light elbow to the side.

Rock played it off and began to speak to Arkady in his native language. "So, you're working for Ms. Balalaika and Hotel Moscow, I take it?" Arkady's mood became excited. "Da! Our first meeting went very well, me and Miss B really hit it off! Now I only have to work up the courage to ask her out on a date," he replied. This did not sit well with Rock. He was surprised to hear someone make a joke on that matter. The Japanese man could recall his many run-ins with the crimelord. "Clearly this guy's sense of humor is out there," he thought. "Mr. Okajima my brother is very comical, to say the least. Try not to take every word he says to heart," Aleksandr said reassuringly.

"Okajima? Are you Yaponskiy? I met a Yaponskiy tourist once. Wanted me to give him a tour around Vladivostok. Poor guy was so hammered by the end of the night he gave me his Rolex… Well, I took it from him while he was passed out in an alley, but hey I showed the guy complete hospitality." Benny, Revy, and Dutch were all amused by this. The only two not laughing were Aleksandr and Rock. "Yeah sounds kinda like you there, Rock," quipped Revy. Arkady slugged back the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down. "Well, you people do know how to have fun here blyat! I finally killed that hangover." Revy, not one to be outdone posed a challenge to the newcomer. "Alrighty, Mr. Ruski, a guy that talks like that must be able to keep 'em down. What do say to a friendly wager? Loser buys the drinks."

"You put me on the spot here. Pohui, I can handle this. You've got a deal lady!" Dutch gave his eager partner a hard stare. "Maybe don't kill the poor guy on his first night in town," he said to her. Aleksandr knew what was about to happen. His brother was too determined to turn down a challenge. All he could do was hope his brother was still standing by the end, it would be annoying to have to drag him out of the Yellow Flag by his legs.

Roanapur, end of the night

"Alright, this is your place." Aleksandr began steering his vehicle into the gravel lot of what looked to be an old workshop. It was around this time that Arkady had finally come to. "Did… did I... win?" he slurred heavily. Aleksandr opened the passenger door and stood in place. "I don't think the two of you sitting sideways and babbling counts as a victory. Now please get out of my car before you vomit." Arkady, limped slowly out of the vehicle, swearing unintelligibly. The only thing to stop him was his eyes laying on the building they were parked at. Despite its age, the place seemed to be in good condition. Arkady was impressed. "This is where I'm staying, Sasha?" he muttered. Connected to the workshop was a small one bedroom apartment.

The two of them entered the front facing door to inspect the place. "Nothing lavish, just a simple set up, working utilities, bed, couch, television and so on," Aleksandr was interrupted by his drunken brother weakly trying to hug him. He calmly pushed him off and placed his hands on his shoulders to keep him steady. "As you can already tell there's a garage connected to this place. You can use the door over there to get to it. And by the way, your car's inside. I would suggest checking it out whenever you're not in this state." Unfortunately for him, Arkady had missed that last part because he was already making his way into the garage, albeit clumsily. The sound of his brother's exclamations and random bits of profanity was a sign that he was clearly pleased with his new set up. If he was even aware of his surroundings.

As if on cue a strange odor began to fill the room. Aleksandr quickly turned around to determine the cause. He could see Arkady taking a few puffs from a hand rolled cigarette. It was obvious that it wasn't a normal cigarette. The two brothers stood still like deer in headlights. "Cut me some slack, Sasha. I had a job interview today. Very stressful." It was the only coherent statement Arkady had spoken since he had arrived there. Aleksandr closed his eyes and slapped a hand to his forehead. "Do not get carried away with that. You're starting work tomorrow morning. I will be here first thing. Try not to reek of that shit when I see you, understand?" Aleksandr took his leave and Arkady was now left alone in the living room of the apartment. He let out a sigh as his body connected with the couch. "Spasiba, Roanapur. Have a pleasant… Evening. Dobroy nochi." With that, Arkady slumped forward onto the floor face first. He was fast asleep. An appropriate ending to his day.

A/N: Hello everyone, hope you enjoy the start of this series that I'm working on. Not much action, but I wanted to set the tone for the story. And of course, I wasn't going to leave out everyone's favorite crew of pirates! Expect more of Arkady's brand humor and more details of Aleksandr's background coming up. Feel free to leave a review and ask me questions if you're interested. Feedback is always appreciated! -RR