Freelance Triad
Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe
1. CURIOSITY
The heavy scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke wafted through the air in the Yellow Flag. It was a smell Sawyer "the Cleaner" was familiar with, having cleaned in many bars, including this one, in the past. The only thing missing from this familiar atmosphere was the stench of blood. She learned from numerous past cleaning jobs that Two Hand's temper was insufferable.
People paid little mind to the small young woman who walked in, a somber little apparition dressed in striped purple sleeves and a frilly black skirt, a pair of laced black boots, skin nearly white as a sheet and lips red as blood, a choker of scarred flesh about her neck, a tangled mess of black curls on her head with bangs framing her seemingly lifeless blue eyes. Her choice of dress was odd compared to the more casual choices of the Yellow Flag patrons, but they cared very little. Aside from the occasional odd glance and mocking sneer, she didn't hold anyone's attention.
Good.
She stayed close to the shadows and looked around. She observed that the bar was packed to the gills with bounty hunters and mercenaries, people she would usually be working for rather than alongside. It was a rare instance for her to be hunting the prey instead of disposing of the corpse.
One hunter she noticed in particular was a tall woman with long, silky black hair in a red dress and white jacket. It was Shenhua, a Taiwanese freelancer she had the pleasure of working with on multiple occasions. Shenhua had always brought her the most memorable jobs from Mr. Chang.
The Asian woman took a seat at a table hosting a large hulk of a man who could have easily passed for a body builder. A man with messy blonde hair with a scar across his left eye and a tiger-print shirt accompanied Shenhua and sat down beside her. By this point, they both had their backs turned to her.
As Sawyer stood off in the shadows of the bar, the Taiwanese woman looked over her shoulder. For a split second, there was a gleam of sorts in Shenhua's eyes as they settled on Sawyer, as though she recognized the girl from somewhere... But she didn't seem to let her thoughts linger—at least that was what Sawyer thought, and the Taiwanese woman turned her attention back to the table.
Sawyer shrugged inwardly. That sort of reaction was to be expected. All the times Shenhua, or anyone else for that matter, saw her was when the small body disposal expert was dressed in her cleaning clothes, appearing to be some sort of corrupt surgeon wearing a bloody apron and a mask and goggles concealing her face. This little stint in the Yellow Flag was the first time she had gone out into the open in her gothic attire, and without the presence of her trademark chainsaw, she knew no one would recognize her as Roanapur's infamous Sawyer "the Cleaner". It was just as well. It wasn't her style to want or attract too much attention.
She scanned the interior of the bar again. There were still a few more hunters, some men with concealing motorcycle helmets and a scraggly type missing a few teeth with a bandanna of the American flag wrapped around his head. Next, her attention was drawn to the open bar itself. The barkeep, Bao, seemed spectacularly unamused as Sawyer saw Two Hand bickering with a nun from the Rip-Off Church, before those two briskly exited the bar. The nun didn't seem too invested in their conversation and shrugged off Two Hand's irritating verbal prying. The wannabe cowboy they bumped into the on the way out didn't appear to appreciate the invasion of his space or lack of courtesy, and he cursed silently. Sawyer blinked and an emotion almost resembling resentment washed over her. From the way he carried himself, he was some idiot trying to pass himself off as a serious criminal. She knew the type and found herself hoping she would have to do a little "cleaning up" once the hunt of over.
She continued to scan, and her eyes came upon a table in a far off corner. There were two glasses of milk on top of it. It was unconventional for a bar, but she supposed drinking milk was a wiser option than getting hammered before a bounty hunting job. She noted that the table was occupied by two men, one of them an obese male with short light blonde hair in a light green shirt, who had his back turned to her. The other... was...
A man with silver hair clad in dark clothing, a heavy black trench coat draped over a blue shirt, she saw the color of his pants and boots matched the color of his coat as he rested his legs on the top of the table. He momentarily pressed the index finger of his right hand against his sunglasses to push them up the bridge of his nose ever so slightly, revealing the silver rings on his fingers. He exuded a cool aura, composed; the man's appearance and the way he held himself reminded her of a character out of an action movie, or a male host.
How odd, Sawyer thought. She had never seen him in this city before. Who was he?
The man detected her gaze and looked straight at her, giving a slow nod towards her in acknowledgment. Sawyer looked away and turned her attention to the floor, pursing her lips and suddenly wringing her hands. It had nothing to do with the dapper mystery man in black. Nope, not at all.
Still, she wondered where he came from. Over the years she worked as a cleaner, she had, at the every least, a vague idea of the hunters who resided in the city. She'd laid eyes on most of these killers at least once or twice, but never that silver-haired man or the guy sitting across from him.
Sawyer did want to know who he—they were, how exactly they fit into this city, but it wasn't her style to talk to strangers. She preferred subtle approaches and observations. She supposed she would learn soon enough when everyone went into the field as a group.
She noticed that an argument was beginning to erupt near the table where Shenhua was sitting. The cowboy had been too serious about the cheap 1,000 dollar job everyone was here for, for entertainment rather than monetary gain. The picture of the Indian woman they were supposed to hunt was left forgotten on the table while all the mercenaries ganged up on the wannabe cowboy.
No one noticed as Sawyer walked over to Shenhua's table, not even the adept Taiwanese freelancer herself. The small gothic cleaner quietly pulled up a chair and sat more or less beside the man with the body builder-like physique.
The argument was reaching its peak.
"Shouldn't you be fuckin' cows back on the range?"
"Damn you!"
"Pretty fucking bossy for a guy who just stepped off the plane!"
"I don't like his style!"
"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY, YOU BASTARDS!"
Sawyer blinked in reaction to the cowboy's outburst. How droll. This had nothing to do with the hunt or the hunters.
Quickly, she pulled out her hand held Ultravoice and placed it to her scarred neck.
"If you want us to listen... you can start by introducing us to new faces... sitting over there." She gestured to the table where the dark mystery man sat with her dark blue eyes.
There, a comment executed with a subtle touch. After all, it was relevant to their hunt to know who they were all running with, and it wasn't as though the young woman had any ulterior motives hidden beneath the words.
She was just curious. That was all...
A/N: Smooth, Sawyer, real smooth. "Introduce us to the new faces", huh?
Freelance Triad is going to be divided into 4 parts focusing on each "dynamic pairing" of the trio. Just in case Sawyer succeeded with her subtlety or if it didn't come across as clearly as I'd hoped, this chapter was focused on Sawyer/Rotton. The next chapter will be Sawyer/Shenhua.
Cheers.