A/N

The chapters will go from present day to 1988 and there's no set point of view. Yes, this will be long and it'll take me a while to write but I'm hoping to get this as accurate as I can.

In the future chapters, there will be some sexy stuff going on so stay put for that at least ;)

Present Day

Ajay Ghale, a 26 year old man from Kyrat, is returning to his homeland to spread his mother's ashes in Lakshmana, Kyrat, to grant her final wishes. He had very little memory of Kyrat itself as he was barely a boy when he lived there, but listening to his mother chatter passionately about the place on her deathbed made him feel excited yet anxious about visiting.

The bus he was on was shabby to say the least, but somewhat charming. It was heavily decorated with bright oriental tapestries, wall hangings and decorations. The gentle tinging of bells and charms created a calm setting as the bus moved clumsily over the rocky mountainsides. There was the overpowering smell of incense which coated the air and a thick layer of different kinds of smoke clouded the atmosphere.

There were about six or seven other people on the bus: Darpan, Ajay's escort, who was a middle aged man with messy slicked back hair, a greying braided beard and the look of a thousand years of experience on his scarred face; four armed men in military-like outfits with yellow headscarves and armbands; a middle-aged woman wearing a wrap on her head who never put down a cigarette and also seemed to have a friendship with the monkey which sat next to Ajay; some mysterious guy who sat at the back of the bus silently wearing aviators and the driver, who was armed heavily for whatever reasons. It made Ajay nervous to see so many guns around, but he was warned about that by the American Embassy who warned him not to travel to Kyrat due to the civil war which was very active. Ajay heeded the warning, but wanted to fulfil his mother's wishes so overlooked them.

"Passport," Darpan said, his Indian accent thick. Ajay anxiously handed his passport to him, and Darpan generously slipped in some Rupee bank notes into it. He gave the young boy a reassuring smile, "Breathe. I'll do the talking." Ajay took his advice and took a deep breath. He took out the silver urn with his mother's ashes in it from his coat and looked at it, running his finger lightly over the engraving which said "Ishwari Ghale, 1968-2014". It comforted him, to a certain extent.

"Passports!" The driver called, as they pulled upside a military barrier. Ajay glanced nervously at Darpan, who nodded his head, reminding him to relax. Aviator guy tapped Ajay to get his attention and handed him his own passport. Ajay took it and handed both his and Aviator's to headwrap lady, whose monkey friend snatched off Ajay but the lady bonked it on the head and took back the passports.

Armed Royal Guardsmen had surrounded the bus. The driver was off the bus, showing the passports to two of the guardsmen, trying to reason with them and get answers.

"What's happening?" Ajay asked, his heartbeat accelerating as he rose from his seat.

"Sh-sh!" Darpan hushed, holding out an arm as he started peering out the window to see what was going on. Ajay couldn't understand a word of what language they were speaking, but it seemed the driver was asking what the hold up was about. In the distance the whirring of a helicopter could be heard and the volume of voices began to rise to match the level of noise.

Ajay cautiously looked out the window and saw guardsmen poking around at the bus, as if they were looking for something, perhaps an excuse to start chaos? Then, one of them found something suspicious and things quickly became heated. There was quiet nervous hubbub on the bus amongst the yellow-banded people, and they were quickly glancing at one another as if waiting for a signal.

The officer talking to the driver smacked the passports out of his hands and guns were raised. At this point, the yellow-banded soldiers climbed out the back doors of the bus and attempted to flee.

"Golden Path!" Ajay heard one of the guardsmen call out. There was a sudden burst of gunfire towards the people trying to escape. Aviator guy and the bus driver pulled out their weapons and began shooting at the Royal Guardsmen, and there were bursts of blood in every direction. All Golden Path fighters got mowed down like sheep. The yelling and shooting continued as the guardsmen started aiming at the seemingly innocent people on the bus, including Ajay.

"Get down!" Darpan commanded. Him and Ajay ducked for cover as there was smashing glass, screams and cries for mercy, but they were quickly cut off by gunshots. Everything was so loud: the helicopter was getting closer, people were shouting louder and the gun battle seemed to be ongoing.

"Go!" Darpan urged, pushing Ajay in the direction of the back doors of the bus. Clambering frantically Ajay made it out, only to be harassed by soldiers. He was blinded by the light of the sun flickering through the helicopter's blades, though he could make out guns which were pointed at him.

"Get on floor! Get on ground! Now!"

Ajay looked at Darpan for guidance, who was face down on the ground covering the back of his head. Ajay crawled to the floor, doing the same as Darpan but looking upwards, carefully watching the guard pointing a weapon at him. An injured officer tapped Ajay's pursuer on the shoulder, pointing quickly at the helicopter and he relaxed his gun.

The helicopter landed and things slowly became still.

From the helicopter jumped a man: he was oriental and had a shaved head, all aside from a layered tuffet of bleached-blond hair which sat on the top of head, covering his left eyebrow slightly; he had high cheekbones and a prominent jawline. One of his ears was pierced and wore a diamond stud, creating a camp appearance for the man. He wore bright pink embroidered trousers, dark maroon shoes, and a black tightly-fitting military jacket to cover a suit jacket which matched his trousers.

He stood there silently for a moment with his hands in his pockets, taking in the scene before him, before dramatically putting his face in his hands. It was Pagan Min.

Pagan paced over to the injured officer who was, to put it lightly, pissing himself.

"I distinctly remember saying 'stop the bus'," Pagan spoke slowly, revealing a smooth British accent, "Yes. Stop the bus. Not 'shoot the bus'. See, I'm very particular with my words: Stop. Shoot. Stop. Shoot. Do those words...sound the same?" He spoke the last line through gritted teeth as he clasped his hands together, awaiting a response.

"But it got out of control," the officer mumbled quietly. His voice quivered as he spoke, and Ajay could see him shivering. Pagan put his hand on the officer's farthest shoulder and got closer to him, his face almost at the man's ear. The officer flinched, squeezing shut his eyes at the contact.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," Pagan whispered, to mock his soldier. "What did you say?"

"It got out of control."

"Got out of control..." Pagan repeated thoughtfully, reaching for a gold decorative fountain pen from inside his jacket. "I hate when things get out of control." He suddenly jammed the pen into the officer's throat, who was knocked to the ground by the force, but he didn't stop there. Pagan thrust all his strength into repeatedly stabbing his ex-officer, growling furiously: "You. Had. One. Fucking. Job. And. You. Couldn't. Fucking. Do. That!" He stopped and looked at the dead man for a moment, before collapsing with a sigh into a sitting position on the corpse. Ajay's heart accelerated in fear when he saw that his face was splattered in blood, unsure of what the unpredictable king would do next.

Pagan glanced down at his shoes and let out a dangerous groan of frustration, "And I got blood on my fucking shoes!" He smacked the ground angrily with his now-bloodied gloved hands. He proceeded to take a few momentS to calm himself down before looking at Ajay, his eyes suddenly lighting up at the sight of him and his face beaming. He waved an arm at his other guards to get moving, and he addressed the dead officer he was sitting on:

"At least there's a silver lining," he said, his voice taking on a kinder tone, "You didn't completely fuck it up." He stood, and held Ajay's arm to also help him stand up, "Get up boy! Oh, I'd recognise those eyes anywhere..." Pagan chuckled and gave Ajay a grateful and affectionate hug, leaving the boy confused and a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

"I'm so sorry about this," Pagan said apologetically, as if the whole situation was only a tiny mishap, "This was supposed to be...well...not this." He patted Ajay's arm, "We have a party...waiting for you..." his voice trailed off as his cat-like eyes fixed interestingly on Darpan, who was still face-down on the ground. Pagan went over to him and crouched beside him, prodding him, "But I don't think I know your name. Who is this? Hm? Is this your plus one?" Pagan laughed at his own joke. Darpan didn't respond and Pagan laughed again. "Strong silent type. I like it."

He stood back up, waving at his men to haul Darpan onto his feet. He was restrained and then had a sack shoved onto his head, covering his face.

"I am terribly embarrassed about all this," Pagan said to Ajay, "This was supposed to be very simple but you know if you give food to monkeys they just throw their shit at each other. Oh! Would you hold this?" He handed the blood-covered fountain pen to Ajay, who reluctantly took it and tried not to touch the red liquid. Pagan reached into his pocket and retrieved a smartphone. "Just a moment, I want to get a little picture. Right at the camera-" He raised the phone and Ajay looked at it, not sure whether after all he'd seen it would be okay to smile or not. "There we are-" Pagan pressed the screen and got a picture. He beamed at it. "Awesome."

Pagan patted Ajay on the shoulder again, "Don't worry about a thing, my boy. This will soon be behind us and we'll be off on our grand adventure! " He started walking towards the helicopter, "Because I have cleared my calendar for you. You and I... are gonna tear shit up!" He punched the air excitedly but for Ajay, the lights went out as a sack was forced over his face.

Pagan was ecstatic. He was finally with the son of his beloved Ishwari. It had been years since he'd last seen him; Ajay was only about one or two years old but it completed Pagan to see part of Ishwari in front of him. True, he did have a potato sack over his head but he was still there nonetheless.

Throughout the short helicopter ride back to one of Pagan's commander's fortresses, he went over memories of Ishwari in his mind, good and bad. The beautiful fighter, the strong willed woman. The tigress, the spy- there were many names he used to describe her. It ashamed him to have been so involved with a woman like he was, but she had that impact on him and imprinted so many memories of her.

Two of the strongest memories he had oddly conflicted with one another: the first was the day they met, the second was the day Ishwari said tearfully goodbye and told Pagan she loved him before fleeing to America with Ajay. At that time Pagan was too wrapped up in grief from the murder of their infant daughter to truly consider his feelings for Ishwari, but as the time they spent apart got longer, his feelings strengthened. By then, it was too late.

But Pagan didn't like to think about that. The more he dwelled on it, the weaker he became.

Ajay suspected that must have been given a knock out drug of some sort because as soon as the bag was put on his face everything blacked out. When he woke up, he found himself sitting in a chair, still blinded by the bag. The smell of various aromatic curries filled the air, and he could hear the slightly muffled voices of two people: Pagan, and someone else.

"...oh, give my congratulations to Ashley on your next visit home," Ajay could hear Pagan say, followed by a relaxed sigh, "Ahh, I must say, Paul. Your little corner of Kyrat here is rather beautiful. I expected more chains and wailing. But knowing you somewhere around here is a dark place where secrets flow like the blood." There was a silence before Pagan laughed: " Ahahaha! That wry smile betrays you again, De Pleur ..." Pause. "Well go on, take the bloody bag off his head!"

Ajay squinted at the light which stung his eyes as the sack was removed from his head. When his vision cleared, he saw that he was sat at a dinner table covered in many colourful dishes on the balcony which looked out to the stunning view of snowy mountains. Ishwari's urn was on the centre of table, next to a circular display of monkey heads surrounding a decorative incense holder. Ajay was facing Pagan, and on his right was Darpan and on his left was Paul De Pleur, one of Pagan's most trusted commanders.

"Again, terribly sorry for what happened before," Pagan apologised, clasping his hands together sincerely, "This is more what I had in mind. So, fresh start! Introductions." He indicated to Ajay," Ajay Ghale, our guest of honour; Paul, our very gracious host; the little monkey whose name I still don't know..." He glowered at Darpan with a displeased expression before continuing, "And I, of course, am Pagan Min."

He smiled at Ajay but it quickly faded as he realised Ajay had no idea as to whom he was. "You...really don't remember me, do you? Your mother, she never spoke of me? Never mentioned me?"

Ajay shrugged. Never in his life had Ishwari mentioned "Pagan Min" to him, and he was beginning to understand why. It was obvious Pagan had some sort of problem with impulse control- he had a temper and was incredibly unpredictable; relaxed and calm one minute, uncontrollably violent the next. It frightened Ajay to the max but he tried to appear calm and relaxed about being kidnapped.

"Oh..." Pagan felt his heart stutter for a second but he quickly recovered, "Well, we'll change all that. Paul, I need cash."

"Uh, how much do you need?" asked Paul, taking out his wallet.

"All of it," Pagan snatched all of the bank notes from his wallet, confusing Paul for a moment. "Thank you. Here we are..." He held up one of the bank notes as a comparison to his face. Ajay sat in silence, not responding. "Hm? Alright..." Pagan took a different note and also held it up beside his face, "How about this? With the...the smile?" His lips curled, revealing his teeth in a very fake smile to match the one on the money. He cleared his throat and held out a third note to Ajay.

"That's you," Ajay said dully.

"That's me." He threw the money on the table, "Although, I'm not so sure anymore..." He then picked up the urn and took of the lid, looking at the remains inside, "Now your mother, on the other hand, she understood me." Ajay stood up in protest of Pagan's actions but Paul put his hand on his arm, setting him with him a look which said 'you don't want to do that' and Ajay sat back down.

"She knew me in a way which no one else did." Pagan put a finger in the ashes and sucked it, peering into the urn again. Ajay's stomach churned and suddenly the food on his plate didn't look appealing anymore. "Mm, that takes me back. The last time I saw Ishwari was...years ago. She told me she loved me... Women... They can do that, they can tell you they love you in the moment and mean it. Men, on the other hand... No, men only really love you in hindsight. When too much distance has built up." His voice dropped at this last part and it captured Ajay's attention slightly. Did this man really have relationship with his mother?

"So..." Pagan continued, grabbing a fork and standing up, "When your mother decided to flee to the United States with you on her hip..." he breathed on the fork, rubbing it with his sleeve and standing behind Darpan, "...I couldn't help but blame myself. Then I realised 'it's not me.' No. It was the fucking Golden Path!"

He suddenly shoved Darpan's head down into the table and embedded the fork deep between his shoulderblades . Darpan cried out in pain, and Ajay didn't know how to react. He saw that Paul was grinning, obviously enjoying the free entertainment, but in no way did Ajay see this as entertainment and in no way was he enjoying it.

"Those fucking terrorists," Pagan told Ajay calmly, "they ruin everything. " His eyes were locked on Darpan. "Like dinner! Did no one ever teach you that it's rude to text at the table? Let me see here..." He went to grab the mobile phone out of Darpan's hand but he refused to let go of it. Pagan slapped at his hand whilst pushing the fork further into his back. "Give me the phone!" Darpan gave up and Pagan took the phone off him, showing it to the guards.

"Really guys?" he said, disapprovingly, "We're not checking for these anymore?" He read text messages on the screen, "Ah! 'I'm with Ajay Ghale.' You'll love this part," he smiled at Paul, showing him the phone, "'Help'. " Pagan let out peals of laughter, sneering at Dapan, who lay defeated on the table.

Pagan continued his torment: "A text for help?" he snickered, "You don't text for help, you cry for help. So come on!" He dragged Darpan up by the fork,. "You're going to cry for help. If you're gonna do something, you're going to do it right. Here we go!" He took him to the edge of the balcony for everyone below to see.

"Go on, cry for help," Pagan instructed. Darpan didn't obey. As a result, the fork was twisted deeper into his back. "Cry for help."

"H-help," Darpan said weakly.

"Aw, pathetic.." tutted Pagan, unsatisfied, "No. Cry for help."

"Help!" Darpan tried again, a little louder.

"Like you mean it, boy!"

"HELP!"

"Help! FROM YOUR DIAPHRAGM! 'HELP'!" It suddenly became some insane shouting competition.

"HELP!"

"HEEELP!"

"HELP! HELP-"

Ajay watched, sick to the stomach. He couldn't imagine how such a gentle soul like his mother could ever have feelings for a man so cruel and psychopathic.

"-sh, sh, sh, shhhh," shushed Pagan, putting a finger to Darpan's lips, silencing him in mid-cry. "Now we listen."

There was nothing, only the sound of gentle background music and the distant babble of life from far down the mountains. "Nothing. I'm afraid they're not coming for you, buddy. "

Pagan chuckled, removing the fork. Darpan doubled over in pain.

"Find out what he knows," Pagan instructed Paul, who waved at his men to grab Darpan and dragged him off.

The king smiled at Ajay, who was appalled by what he had just witnessed. "Terrorists, right? Now please, stay right here," he took his own phone from out of his pocket and dialling a number, "Enjoy the crab rangoon. Don't move. I'll be right back-... Yuma, we need to talk-" he went away.

The son of Ishwari was left there confused, angered and disgusted. He had conflicting ideas: make a run for it, or stay and see what Pagan wanted with him. He wasn't sure what he was going to do.