A/N: Well, here's the first fanfiction I've ever written and published. I may write it completely but only if I see that people like it. Also, if it gets enough support, I might make a prequel to tell the past of my characters. Enjoy and Review if you feel like it!
The Eagle, the Bloodhound, and the Märchen
A Black Lagoon Fanfiction
Chapter 1: Soldier, Mercenary, whatever, I simply do what I'm asked...
October 27th, 2000; Puebla, Mexico
I silently watched as the sun rose from behind the hill that my house faced, pouring light through the glass door that my room had. I had always considered a luxury being able to see one more dawn, but I was particularly grateful for this one...
My name is Isaac Arias Arlington, I'm 30 years old and I formerly worked for the Mexican Army; however, now that I retired, I simply like to enjoy relaxing while I'm not working.
Ring, Ring! Speaking of which, that probably might be a call for a job.
"Arlington speaking, what do you need?"
"Ah, Isaac, my boy, I had been meaning to call earlier, but I did not wish to disturb your sleep."
That was a voice I did not expect to hear in a long time.
"Sylvanus?! Ok, what have you got for me now?"
Sylvanus Murray is a good friend of mine; a former British SAS who taught me how to be a Sniper, and a "terribly polite old chap" as he would say. The man is almost 15 years older than me, and has seen a lot of action in his life. He usually didn't call unless there was a situation in which his individual skills were not enough to overcome the odds, and that was bad news almost 90% of the time…
"Well, seeing as how you aren't terribly busy at the time I decided to share some particular info I happened to come across recently."
"Ok, so what did you dig up?"
"I recently found a particularly disturbing video of some underage pornography; so I thought that you, being the ever righteous person I know you to be, might be willing to give me a hand with dealing with these rather disgusting scum."
At that moment my blood ran cold; I had seen some heartless things in my life, but to hear the worlds "underage" and "pornography" together made my stomach churn; I had seen some children in the midst of conflict while fighting against the Zapatistas and the Cartels, and it always pained me to look at them: terrified, confused, and with an empty look on their eyes. I never got used to it.
"Isaac? Are you still there, lad?"
Then my brain decided to return to reality and remembered that I was speaking with Sylvanus.
"Yes Sylvanus, I'm still here. Where are we headed for then?"
"Romania. I think you might want to call your fiancé to join us in this, things could get ugly."
I chuckled as I thought about what Sylvanus said. My fiancé was a girl named Rosarita "Roberta" Cisneros, a former Revolutionary soldier from Colombia, whom I had met when I made an unwilling surprise visit to Colombia and ran across a FARC platoon. I'll spare you the details, but what happened was that I managed to save Rosarita's life a couple times and, while escaping a company-sized force that was pursuing us, managed to persuade her to leave the Revolutionaries and see the real cause she was fighting for: the coca fields the cartels used to produce drugs. Afterwards, I asked her to come work with me for a while and, after some narrow escapes, several dates and a sour trip to Chihuahua, I finally gathered enough courage to propose marriage to her. While Rosarita had never been a very emotional woman, the moment I proposed she embraced me and said yes. That counted as one of the biggest victories I've had in life so far. Now however, Rosarita was living in South America again, because she decided to go repay a debt to an old friend of her father, a certain Mr. Labrese or Lovelace, I cannot remember his last name exactly.
But if Murray wanted her assistance in the op, either he was starting to get rusty, or the odds we were piled against were not in our favor at all. I did not like either one of the choices.
"Well then, that's all I have to say for now, Isaac. All I have left is take care of yourself and call a bit more often, I rarely hear from you this days!"
I processed those two lines he had said, which meant that probably I was being followed and that my phone was being tapped. So I only smiled as I answered:
"Take care of yourself too, old chap."
Then I hung up and set about making some breakfast, all the while processing the information that had just been relayed to me: Sylvanus, my mentor, had requested my aid on a mission; that mission involved a group of people that dealt with child pornography; and, to top it off, he had also requested the aid of a soldier which far exceeded both of our combined strengths, skills and (maybe) tactical abilities. And that in itself was enough to get me nervous.
I slowly drank a cup of water that I had conveniently left on the counter last night, and then started to dial Rosarita's number. I was about to finish dialing when I heard a knock on the front door of my house. While I did get some visits from time to time from mailmen and some acquaintances, I was caught off guard by this sudden visit. I left the phone on the table and the glass, then I grabbed my M1911 Colt .45 and headed down the stairs. If there was any sort of surprise, I would be ready for it.
However, as soon as I opened the door all of my fears were drowned by the embrace of a woman I know quite well. I was very shocked to see her there, standing in my front porch in a spotless French maid uniform, so after a few seconds I snapped out of my daze and returned the embrace while saying:
"R-roberta?!"