I don't own Take Two, Rockstar. or its properties.
Action and Reaction II.
Jack Marston rode on his new horse into the untamed Canadian Wilderness. The snow seemed untouched by man, there was several wolves that ran after him, but lost interest as he made his way into Kodiak.
Kodiak reminded him of Armadillo, but with more snow and hairier men in thicker clothing. He instantly got stares from people as he came into town.
Jack just wanted to keep to himself and not bring any attention to himself. He just wanted to find Nate Johns and get back to Beecher's Hope. Jack rode his horse up to a hitching post and hitched his horse there.
"Excuse me son?" A voice called to Jack, and he turned around to see a scrawny, old man with few teeth still in his mouth looking at him. "You seem to be looking for something, or someone."
Jack nodded. "Yes, I was told to come to Kodiak, and to meet with a fellow in the Beaver's Dam."
"Why, The Beaver's Dam is over yonder." The Old man pointed at the bar with the sign that stated, 'Beaver's Dam' over the entrance. "I'd be careful if I was you, I saw a couple of those Trapper's Gang thugs go in there not less than ten minutes ago."
Jack tipped his hat to the old man and made his way over to The Beaver's Dam.
As he entered the bar he immediately saw Dorian Applewhite and saw that he was being harassed by three hoodlums.
"We don't take to kindly to outsiders, especially Yankees making their way into our territory!" The Leader of the thugs grunted in a think Canadian accent.
"So, why don't you see your way out of here?" The Second scrawny Canadian thug told Dorian.
Dorian was silent, he just kept drinking his Whiskey, ignoring what the Canadians were telling him.
"You listening to us boy?" The third fat Canadian thug pushed Dorian, spilling his whiskey onto the floor and his jacket. The Canadian thugs began to laugh as Jack walked up to the bar but kept some distance away from what was happening. He ordered a Whiskey from the Bartender and looked on, unsure if he should intervene.
"Yes," Dorian began as he took a handkerchief out and wiped the Whiskey off his shirt. He looked up and saw Jack who was looking on. "I was listening, but my mind was miles away. You see, I was just remembering how I was having sex with all your mothers at the same time!" Dorian told the thugs as Jack sighed hiding his face in his right hand.
"The fuck did you say?" The Fat thug loudly asked him. Dorian sighed as he cleared his throat. "I said, I was recalling when all your mothers had their lips right around my pole!"
The Scrawny thug punched Dorian in the stomach and Dorian leaned over in pain, after having the wind knocked out of him. The Leader took out a bowie knife, and The Fat one held Dorian in place.
"I think we should carve some manners into your Yankee belly!" The Leader snarled.
Jack sighed, downed his glass of Whiskey and made his way over. "Excuse me?"
The Thugs and Dorian turned to Jack who stopped before them. "And who the goddamned fuck are you?" The Fat Canadian thug asked him.
"I'm nobody, and if you would be so kind as to let my...associate go, as we have business to attend to." Jack calmly stated.
The Scrawny Canadian sniffed. "Where you from boy?"
"Does it matter?" Jack asked.
The Leader turned to face Jack while he took a rag out to clean his knife. "Around these parts, it does now where are you from?"
"West Elizabeth."
The Three Canadians disregarded Dorian, throwing him to the side as they turned their attention to Jack.
"Is there a problem?" Jack asked the three, he subtly put a hand on his LeMat Revolver.
"We just have orders, is all." The Scrawny Canadian said. At that moment the three Canadians began to surround Jack.
"Now fellas, I don't know who you get your orders from, but if you wish to keep on living...you just walk on." Jack had to keep an eye on all three of them but that was getting hard to do. Jack put his back to the bar and the Canadians were on both of his sides as well as his front.
Dorian got up and dusted off his clothes. "Behind you." He mentioned in an uninterested tone.
Jack turned around, taking his LeMat Revolver out and saw the Bartender loading his Sawn-Off Shotgun. Jack shot him in the neck and he went down. The Fat and Scrawny thugs ran at Jack but he was able to jump over the bar and gave them both two shots to the heart. The Leader was shocked that his fellow gang members were dead.
The Leader dropped his knife and his eyes locked into Jack's, his hands slowly went for his pistol. "Don't try it." Jack warned him.
There was that sound of silence, it filled the bar. Jack looked at The Leader, The Leader looked at Jack, and Dorian was there just taking it all in.
The Leader went for his pistol and managed to get it out of his holster before Jack gunned him down. He went down clutching the bullet wounds in his chest, before he died.
Jack sighed as he put away his revolver in his holster. Dorian went over to the bar and poured himself a new whiskey. "So, I guess you're Jack Marston?"
Jack looked over at Dorian. "Yeah, I guess you're Dorian Applewhite then."
"That's correct." He finished pouring his whiskey and poured a whiskey for Jack. He gave Jack his whiskey and the two shared a drink.
"Now, I think it'd be best if we moseyed on out of here, as you folk in West Elizabeth say." Dorian smiled as he downed his whiskey and walked out of the bar.
"Jackass." Jack muttered as he drank his whiskey and followed Dorian out to the hitching post to ride away before the authorities came by.
A short ride away, on the outskirts of Kodiak. Dorian Applewhite led Jack over to a safehouse, which was a small cabin in the middle of a forest.
"Well, this is the place." Dorian hitched his horse over at a post right outside the safehouse. Jack followed suit and dismounted his horse and hitched it and followed Dorian into the safehouse.
Dorian opened the doors and saw that it was a rundown piece of shit. The floorboards appeared to be coming undone. This house looked like its former inhabitants had left in a hurry. Empty cans and assorted trash littered the floor, the table along with the chairs in the small kitchen was upheaved, and there were clothes scattered around as if someone had looted the empty house beforehand.
"Well, this place is a dump." Dorian scoffed as he looked around the safehouse. "This place could use a good dusting." He turned around to see Jack's fist connect with his face.
Dorian tripped over onto the wooden table which broke easily underneath him. "Ow Fuck! Why the fuck did you do that for?" He clutched his face and sneered at Jack.
"Just to inform you of something." Jack flexed his hand to make sure it wasn't broken. "The next time you pull a stunt like that; I'm not going to be there to get you out of trouble."
Dorian looked up to Jack. "This couldn't have been said with words? You had to hit me right in the face?"
"I thought that would get my point across a lot more than with words." Jack smirked.
Dorian slid his leg in between Jack's legs, tripped him over, took his knife out of his boot and got on top of him and pointed his knife at Jack's throat.
"Just to inform you." Dorian pressed the knife against Jack's throat. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much." He smiled as he lifted the knife away from Jack's throat.
Dorian soon felt something press into his abdomen and hear the cocking of a revolver. Dorian wisely dropped his knife and got off Jack.
Jack got up all the while pointing his revolver at Dorian. "Why does Dunn want you here helping me?"
"Well, for starters I'm a thief. I have a particular skill set on getting you past locked doors, around traps, and avoiding men with guns." Dorian listed a few tools in his arsenal.
Jack got up and Dorian kicked the revolver away from Jack's hand. Jack growled and swung at Dorian, who managed to avoid his fist and slugged Jack right in the lip.
Jack wiped some blood away from his mouth and tackled Dorian and slammed him onto the ground. Dorian thought that he heard something crack in his chest but that didn't stop him from landing a few blows to Jack's head and body.
They fought for several minutes before they realized they were getting nowhere.
"Okay look. You don't like me and I don't like you, if a bit, but we have to work together to get what we both want. So, how about it?" Dorian extended his hand. "Truce?"
Jack looked at his hand and then took it. "Fine, no funny stuff or I swear I'll put a bullet in your head myself!"
"Fine by me, tomorrow morning we ride out and meet this Alphonse, and see if he can't give us some firepower to deal with Johns, and his new friends." Dorian advised.
"Fine, let's get some rest. I'll take the bed." Jack was walking to the bedroom.
"Bullshit you will..." Dorian paled when he saw that Jack had his revolver back in his hand. "On the other hand this couch seems very comfortable."
Jack smiled. "Yeah that's what I thought, night Dory." He chuckled.
Dorian mock chuckled, "Night Dory! Jackass." He muttered as he took off his jacket and pants before getting a thick blanket and covering himself with it.
In the morning they both got ready and ate some of the food provided by Adrian Dunn in Jack's supplies.
Afterwards, they got on their horses and headed west towards the town of Merchant's Peace.
They arrived in the town and saw that a river covered with ice flowed through the entire town and the village was built around it. There was a small house that was advertising rooms for rent, a few other buildings advertising certain services, a general store, and a Post Office.
Jack looked around, but couldn't see anything resembling a gun store, as Jack thought they'd be dealing with a normal Gunsmith. "Excuse me." Jack asked a young boy. "Can you tell me where Alphonse is?"
"Sure, he's the second shop on the right side of the road." The boy responded.
"Much obliged," Jack thanked the boy.
"Much obliged." Dorian mocked Jack.
Jack looked back at Dorian, and Dorian quieted up quickly.
They reached the shop which was named 'The Pelt Shop'.
"'The Pelt Shop' I wonder if this place sells pelts?" Dorian quipped as they dismounted their horses and went inside. Both Jack and Dorian were hit with the strong, pungent smell of stripping solvent used to make leather from pelts, and skins.
Jack and Dorian went over to the front desk and saw that there was nobody there.
Dorian saw a bell on the desk and rang it.
"I'll be there in a second." A voice rang out from the back of the store.
Dorian sighed and began pressing the bell over and over to Jack's annoyance.
"If it's about those Springfield Rifles, I told you," A Scruffy looking portly fellow with a brown full beard that covered his neck, a balding head that was covered up by a cap, and a dirty apron that had the stripping solvent smell emanating from it. "No...refunds."
Jack and Dorian looked at the man. "Are you Alphonse?" Jack asked the man.
"Yeah, that's me. I'm guessing you two are the guys that Adrian sent to do 'that thing' for him, right?"
"If by 'that thing' you mean, capture Nate Johns, drag him back to West Elizabeth, and get our records stripped clean, then yeah 'that thing.'" Dorian answered as he leaned against the desk.
"Well then." Alphonse went over to the door and locked it and put the closed sign up. "I'll be honest with you two, I wasn't expecting you two to be here so fast."
"So?" Jack asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It's just that when Adrian told me that you two were coming that I thought it'd be a month before you two got here. I ordered the things just yesterday thinking they'd be here just in time." Alphonse admitted.
"What are you saying? That we must infiltrate Nate's Compound empty handed, carrying nothing but our cocks in our hands?" Dorian got a bit mad.
"No, I'm saying you'll have to wait a while before you do so." Alphonse pleaded.
"How long a while?" Jack asked.
Alphonse did the math in his head. "Well let's see, if there are no interruptions in the route to Merchant's Peace. Then the packages will be here in about two weeks." Alphonse told Jack and Dorian.
"That's no good, in two weeks Johns might find out we're here and decides to skip the country!" Jack growled.
"Well, I'm sorry but there's nothing else I can do, it's out of my hands!" Alphonse admitted.
Dorian grabbed Alphonse by the scruff of his neck. "Listen here you little shit, if you don't find some way to get those packages here A.S.A.P. I'm going to have my associate here take his revolver and give you six new breathing holes!"
"Nine actually this is a LeMat Revolver." Jack corrected Dorian.
"My mistake, Nine new breathing holes!" Dorian gritted his teeth.
"Okay! Okay! Peace! I can get some alternatives in exchange for the supplies you'll need!" Alphonse pleaded with Dorian.
"Oh, and here I thought that it was going to take two weeks to get the things!" Dorian sneered.
"I have a couple of friends, who are more than willing to lend me the things that you need to assault Nate John's Compound!" Alphonse explained.
Dorian looked at Jack who nodded, and he let Alphonse go, who then brushed himself off.
"Then do it." Dorian ordered Alphonse.
"It's not that easy, they won't just give me the things just like that." Alphonse snapped his fingers.
"You have five seconds to explain, or my associate here is going to shoot you." Dorian threatened Alphonse.
"Madam Coquette, the boss of all Arms Dealing in British Colombia is more than willing to give me the guns we need, but in exchange she'll want $1000."
Dorian looked at Jack. "I think I can procure that amount of money."
"Also, I have a few Gold Prospecting friends who would love to give me some explosives in exchange for several bear pelts."
"And I guess I'll handle the bears." Jack said.
Dorian looked at Alphonse. "And how long after we get these things for you will we get our armaments?"
"Two, maybe three days." Alphonse told them.
Dorian nodded. "Alright then." He turned to Jack. "I guess we had better get started then."
