A car parked itself just outside a noisy pub just across the street. The streets were dark and dimly lit by the faint flickering lamps. All was quiet save for the passing cars and a pub with music echoing throughout the empty block. Inside, one could clearly see a party of drunken patrons chugging down cheap bear and dancing to music at full blast.
Rath rolled down its tinted windows and drew the last few puffs of his cigar before stepping out of the car. He walked towards the establishment with a slight limp on his step and a briefcase on the other. He barely had a good look at the time on his wrist before having to stop abruptly and jump back for a second as a car came rushing passed him.
Flipping off the driver as it sped away, Rath went on his way. Arriving in front of entrance he took a moment to pat off the usual dust on his suit. Afterwards, he crackling his joints to his relief and finished off by wiping his sunglasses clean. He finishes off by combing back his hair and taking a long huff from his damp handkerchief before entering the pub with a bell announcing his arrival.
The pub had an Irish feel to it. A folk band played by the corner and filled the establishment with an upbeat tune. To Rath's amusement, they even had a man playing bagpipes and an accordion. The patrons were all nearly drunk off their kegs with a pile of tankards and bottles lying about while they drunk on. Some were playing cards, others were arm wrestling and the rest were keen on singing their songs with a very annoying off key execution.
Rath treaded through the throngs of drunken men with skill and without consequence, save for some splatters of beer on his shoes. He did not pay heed to the bumps and stomps received from the patrons. They are all drunk and eternally stupid. Rath was a reasonable man when needed and his reason for being there dutifully requires it.
Taking another sniff from his handkerchief, Rath waited on the bar. It didn't take long before a young bartender appeared in front of him cleaning an empty tankard.
"Welcome to McGinty's," The bartender greeted with a jovial tune. "What can I get for you, sir?"
"Two things. To be exact." Rath turned to him. A pang of fear etched itself in the young bartender's face. The boy was clever enough to hide it but the slow appearance of Rath's grim smile did not help at all. "One. Whiskey. Leave the bottle will you? Two. The man in charge of this (hem) Ruckus."
"Uhm. Are…are they disturbing you sir?" The boy asked timidly. "'Fraid I can't do anything about that now."
"Oh no. Not at all." Rath replied coolly. "I ask only because I have…business. Things to settle with him."
"Oh is that right?" A man cut in from the side. He leaned himself over to the bar. "Well. Here I am. What business you got with me?"
Looking to his side, Rath came face to face with a man whom he was clearly expecting. As good as that all was, that was something Rath was not very familiar with in his many years of experience dealing with scum like this man. The point being, the man was an exact match to the photo he had on his files.
The man had the face akin to Brad Pitt and Kurt Cobain's love child but whiter and redder. He had long orange hair that reached his neck, a square jaw, dark blue eyes and a short fuzz of facial hair. A charismatic air emits itself from him and could lure any girl to bed with him.
He was an epitome of a bad boy with the stench of rum escaping his lips after every breath with a worn out jacket and an unkempt shirt. His teeth, though not as yellow and crooked as Rath's, were missing a few members and were replaced by metal fillings. As intimidating as other people perceive it, Rath just thinks it's a little bit too passé to look cool.
"Oi." The man tapped Rath on the shoulder. "Ye still there, Bono? You askin' me somethin' or what?"
"You are…Collins?" Rath took a sniff from his handkerchief. "Rupert Collins."
"Aye." The man said before taking another swig from his keg. "That be me. Friends name me by Dredge though. What's it to you? An what's with that smirk on your face?"
"Nothing of consequence." Rath replied. "Just that your reputation precedes you."
"Tell me something I don't know," Dredge said with an air of sarcasm. "but if the time I'll be investing here will be spent on nothing more but trivialities then I'd prefer getting back to my party then. But before I do, might I ask who the bloody hell you are and why'd you think of waltzing in here?"
"Peregrine Rath." Rath replied before drinking his whiskey with a gulp. "But call me Rath. I represent a certain organization tha-"
"Rath is it?" Dredge cut in. "Funny name you got there, Perry. Is that meant to be threatening? Cuz as ugly as you are frightening, you are anything but."
"I am not here to threaten. Or be called like that." Rath sighed. "So if you would please. I am here to offer a job."
"A job?" Dredge scoffed. "Do we look like the kind of folks who needs one, Perry?"
"Yes, as a matter a fact." Rath replied coolly. "And please. Don't call me that. I didn't choose the name. But was the best fit."
"Whatever you say, Perry." The man waved off impatiently. "If you do need some grunts for your grinders go look for a fucking Job Add. I could suggest a few bums for you if you don't want to trouble your pencil-pushing hands. They're lying wasted right outside even as we speak, hahaha!"
"True." Rath said coolly without a hint of taking insult. "I am in need of filthy drunks. With more teeth than brain cells. Heard that this was the place for the best. Cant find a better sloshed Mick mob anywhere else."
"Wanna know something Perry?" Dredge said gravely. His voice was raising after every word. "I don't think I like you. And you know something else? I think someone should show you how we treat bastards who think they're mightier than thou to us!"
The entire pub fell ominously silent as Dredge spoke those words. The musicians stopped on a flat note and did not play another note. The patrons themselves had stopped with their drinking and merrymaking. Most of the people there already expected what will happen next and waited anxiously for the Dredge to prove his reputation as a fighter to prove true.
Slamming his tankard on the table, Dredge grabbed Rath by the collar with his two hands. With amazing strength, he lifted Rath up and pulled close that the latter could almost gag at the stench of beer coming from him up close.
"You got any fuckin' clue who the people in this here pub is, Perry?" He said for all to hear. All turned to hear what their boss had to say, "We be members of the IRA. Active fighters and veterans fighting for a better cause. The Elites. Wrecking houses and buildings from Tories and Yanks alike since the 70's. The Best in our game and boy do we know how to play it!"
The crowd cheered in unison with their fists raised to the air.
"With that all in mind," Dredge asked. "Still think we're just another sloshed Mick Mob? Eh, Perry?"
"You know." Rath reminded. "You're gonna regret it if you keep pushing me around with that name."
Without warning, Dredge punched him straight in the face. It hit Rath in the mouth and bobbed him lick a bobble head due to the impact. Blood trickled down his mouth and made him spit out a busted tooth. What Rath felt about this however was a mystery, as it lay hidden behind his shades.
"I don't think our friend here heard us right." Dredge called out. "Do you still think we are just another sloshed Mick Mob?"
"Oh, not at all. In fact. You had me all wrong." Rath responded in a low monotone. Even as he was being hit like a piñata by a brute like Dredge, Rath took a moment to wipe off the blood from his mouth with his handkerchief before finishing it off with a long sniff. "You are not just A sloshed Mick Mob. But THE sloshed Mick mob. Biggest of the city by my reckoning. Coming from me, that's saying something. "
Dredge furiously bawled and raised a clenched fist. He threw another punch at Rath but to the surprise of the onlookers, Rath caught it mid way. Even more unexpected was that he twisted Dredge's arm and slammed his face on the counter. The force of the attack knocked over the contents of the table over. Some of the glasses shattered over the floor while Rath's whiskey from his bottle spilled itself all over Dredge.
The patrons were at an uproar. Weapons were unsheathed and were pointed at intruder. Blades gleamed in the light, firearms were primed, and fists were clenched and ready to jump into the fray.
Rath managed to stem the tide by twisting their boss's arm and letting them hear his pain. He gave it to them as a sign that meant, 'Anything stupid, it's your boss's ass.' As drunk as the men were, they were smart enough to catch the message.
"Especially one with a specific…Profession that I have need of." Rath said malevolently. "Care to listen? Or lose an arm?"
"S-Sure. Ack." Dredge managed to spit out.
Rath immediately released Dredge from his hold. The man scurried a foot away, back in the safety of his goons while caressing his sore arm. His men immediately made a jump at the vulnerable man but Dredge cut in before they could claw a hair off of him.
"Hands off of him." Dredge said. "I want to hear what Perry here wants to say."
With a moment's hesitation, the men released Rath and pushed him to the side. Their eyes were still gleaming with murder and their hands still clenched on their weapons.
"Good to see that you are keen to listen." Rath combed back his hair. "On to business then?"
"Looks like it." Dredge didn't take his eye off of him for even a moment. "What do you need from us now? As I said, we ain't looking for a job."
"And why is that?"
"Cuz we already got one." Dredge said proudly. "We're in a contract with Mr. Muldoon, an important backer and a generous supporter for our cause. He's a good friend and has been helping us for years. We're celebrating right now cuz of the successful heists we've passed for em earlier. We owe him much for his support and protection."
"Heist huh?" Rath replied. Unimpressed and not amused. "Protection rackets. Gambling payoffs. Thefts. Trafficking. Since when do you settle for pennies? Thought you could work for better. With your reputation and all."
"Yeah. True." Dredge said uneasily. "Gotta admit that things are going slow for us. But all's fair and done once the heat dies down. The last one we did send off the rocker out of them Tories. They never knew what hit them till they did."
"That was months ago." Rath casually lit himself a smoke and blew a few rings while he spoke. "Feds probably forgot you guys exist by now. Work with us and we wont let that talent go to waste. Or in this case, the toilet."
"Alright enough!" Dredge slammed his fist on the counter. "I get what you're going for and I want you to shut the fuck up. Now look here, bub. I don't know how you white collar yuppies work with backstabbing deals but us here in the gutters have a thing called loyalty and respect. That's the only thing worth something down here. That and money. Heh! Everyone could use a little money. Aint that right boys?!"
"HEAR! HEAR! WE DRINK TO THAT!" The sea of redheads cheered and splashed their booze as they raised their tankards high.
Amidst the cheering crowds, a sound of clapping slowly killed the festive mood. An awkward silence then dropped in and all eyes looked towards the man clapping the same slow monotonous beat. A wide grin etched itself on Rath's lips.
"A…marvelous speech, Mr. Collins." Rath said with a hint of sarcasm on his tone. "So passionate. So moving. I am…amazed. Amazed that you lot would believe that, bullshit."
Rath paused for a moment to look into his watch. He gave off a chuckle before digging into his pockets and lit himself another smoke.
"Now tell me, Mr. Collins…and friends." Rath asked. The lighter on his hand still lit its red tongue. "This…code you speak of. Loyalty. Respect. Money. Do you gain and owe all this to your friend? This Mr. Muldoon?"
"Doesn't take a genius to figure that out, mate." Dredge replied. "But if you need a clear answer if you're so thick then, yeah. He is. Can I bother you to ask why?"
"Because, Mr. Collins." Rath looked into his watch again and counted the passing seconds. "You are about to lose two of those things in…3…2…1."
An explosion erupted from afar and shook the pub from its very foundation. Some of the men fell to the floor in surprise and most probably due to their drunken stupor. The men rushed outside to see what the commotion was. There they witnessed smoke rising to the sky and bathing it with crimson as embers and flames danced about.
"A buildin's burning boss!" One of the men shouted. "Looks like it was just 9 blocks down!"
"What?" A look of terror was on Dredge's face. He turned to Rath with gritted teeth. "The fuck did you do?"
"Blew up a building. Duh." Rath said indifferently. "Thought you lots weren't thick. But to be more specific. That is – and was – where Mr. Muldoon was having dinner. With his mistress and kid last I heard."
"I'm curious to know." Rath watched in amusement at the muddle of reactions the men were having on the news. "Now you've lost Respect and the Money from the late Mr. Muldoon. Along with your protection and security. Just how far will your Loyalties go now? My offer still stands. As was before. We are a respectable organization. So far are very successful with our…endeavors. You'll be paid and more. Respect that you deserve will be given. With tasks that wont waste your talents away. What say you now? The choice is yours."
"You Bastard!" Dredge cursed as he approached the smiling man. "You think we're gonna turn flags as easy as that. You've got no fucking idea who you're messing with, Perry! Well you thought wrong coming to our pub alone!"
In a flash, Dredge unsheathed his pistol and pointed it right at Rath's face. Before he could pull the trigger, Rath reached out and held onto the barrel. He did it so fast that Dredge didn't even notice the gun switching hands and was now pointing at him.
"What did I just say about calling me by that name?" Rath sighed with a bored expression. His shades tilted by the side and revealed only to the already pissing Dredge just what kind of man he was dealing with. "And another thing. YOU thought wrong."
With a lit cigarette in hand, Rath tossed it at Dredge and set him on fire. The whiskey that stained him earlier had done its job well. It lit the ginger like a fucking torch and left him screaming as he rolled over the ground vainly smothering the flames. With all the spilt booze on the floor, it only fed the flames stronger.
"No boss. No protection. No security and no more money coming in." Rath said to the audience amidst the screams, the ruckus and the crackling of flames. Rath had a hard time raising his voice with all the noise. "You all are…I said you all… You are dead men walking now as it is. And…uhhh…fuck this. But not as dead as THIS man will be."
Rath leniently ended Dredge's agony by shooting him till the gun ran empty. By then the man had finally stopped moving and fell still. Of course Rath didn't do this out of mercy or of spite, he just hated the noise he was making. It was getting in the way of his usual train of thought.
"Now that's over with." Rath tossed the empty gun over the counter. "Back to business. Be dead meat like your friend here. And that's not just coming from me. But from everyone else in this town. Or Follow me out that door. I'll get you acquainted with your new jobs. The rewards will be worth the risks. And your talents will not be wasted. The choice is yours."
While the men confided their thoughts amongst themselves Rath stood up and made his way to the door. Arriving in the center of the pub, Rath topped for a moment and sheepishly came back to the counter to pick up his loitering briefcase.
"Almost forgot my kit. I wouldn't want to leave this here now." Rath smiled at the bartender. "Oh, for your troubles."
He tossed a large wad of cash at the bartender before making his way out the door at the ring of a bell. The door behind him didn't even come close to slamming shut when the bell began ringing continuously and a rush of footsteps tapped along the empty streets.
Rath paid it no heed as he walked across the street. He kept his face looking forward onto the fleet of cars that awaited him ahead. Only when he opened the door of his own car did he finally look at what the commotion was behind him.
To his contentment, every man inside the pub stood outside the old McGinty's Building and waited in order on the opposite street. They had sincere looks and the attitude of longing and wishing to do more with their lives. The men standing on that street had the look that says that they are ready to throw their lots with Rath and the organization he serves.
"Well then boys," Rath called to them as he took another sniff from his handkerchief. "Let's get started then. Shall we?"
At the same moment, in the burning building 9 blocks away…
From the top floor of the same building, a lone figure stood in front of a large window. Its mask was held on his left. Fresh blood dripped from the sword on its right.
Corpses of different shapes and sizes scattered about. Blood still seeped from their flesh as they were mercilessly butchered with efficiency. Men, women, children, innocent or guilty it did not matter anymore. They were in the way of the grand design.
Even as the smoke began rising and the trickles of flame were crawling close, the Kagemusha paid it no heed. Quietly it contemplated as his blank eyes stood vigil over the dark moonlit city. The silent meditation was cut short when the Wraiths entered the room. They had to close the door shut behind them quickly since the force of the flames were billowing fast from the halls outside.
"Everything's taken cared off then?" The Kagemusha said as it put on its mask. "And the others?"
The Wraith's simply nodded. One slid its finger under its throat in reply to the second question.
"Good." The Kagemusha turned to the other Wraiths by the window. "Prepare for our exit."
One of the Wraiths tapped the Kagemusha on the shoulder and pointed towards the window. It was giving them a heads up on the incoming cars driving hastily to their position.
"I know." The Kagemusha replied and began giving orders. "They've acted faster than anticipated. That's Chang for you. Lets do this quick. You two with the rifles, hold those cars back while they set up."
With a nod in unison, the Wraiths hopped to their tasks. They prepared a pair of harnesses and secured it to the posts in front of the large window while arming 2 large harpoon guns. The others carried a large table and threw it out of the window.
At the same time, the other two Wraiths with the rifles took positions on the other room where there was a clear vantage point of the incoming cars. They fired at them with one rifleman at a time. The other sniper only fired when the other ran dry and was reloading. That way, they could provide continuous fire onto the enemy.
They successfully stopped the fleet of car's advance by 2 blocks away. The men disembarked and immediately took cover behind their vehicles while the snipers continued to pin them down.
As soon as the table smashed on the pavement 3 stories down, harpoons were launched at the building next to theirs. A Wraith gave them a heads up that they are clear to go. The Kagemusha whistled that signaled all his men that it was time to go.
The 2 snipers held back while the others moved. Their task of holding the enemy back was much needed since the enemy had begun moving close and was just a block away.
The group began rappelling down to the opposite building two at the time at a steady pace as not to break the ropes. The Kagemusha stood among the last. It watched as the Wraiths disappeared into the shadows down the building they've landed on.
"Rook, was it?" The Kagemusha turned to the Wraith behind it.
The Wraith replied with the ever so silent nod.
"I have a task for you."
The Wraith stood straight in attention and gave a curt nod.
Rook was one of the larger Wraiths in the Kagemusha's service. Like all Wraith's each were unique with its own style of armor and weapons. No two Wraiths are ever the same most of the time. Men of Rook's stature are usually equipped with layers of Kevlar and plated metal.
In Rook's case he was a true walking castle, just like his namesake. He was a tank that could repel slugs while flexible enough to walk and move about normally. Sight however is limited because of his steel helmet with only narrow slits for eyes but apart from that, he was bullet proof. With the added upgrades he customized on himself he was also fireproof.
This particular Wraith was armed with a modified flamethrower with gas tanks strapped to his back and the nozzles were attached to the forearms right above the wrist. There was a revolving mechanism attached to the forearm that discharges different styles of fire-based projectiles. Rook was the one mainly responsible for starting the fire that was now consuming the entire establishment.
"I want the Triad and anyone else to have all their eyes pointed at you." The Kagemusha said. "Finish what we started here. Go wild and distract them from looking anywhere else. Distract them while we make our escape. This is your time, Rook."
The Kagemusha whistled to the last two Wraiths who were sniping from the other room to start their descent. Their enemies had already made it to their street and were closing in fast. The sounds of other sirens were approaching. By the looks of it, they were fire engines.
"They will expect one of us to be in the wreckage." The Kagemusha said to the Wraith as he fixed his harness. "Take as many of them with you before you do. Good luck."
With that said, the Kagemusha left. The Wraith known as Rook gave off a salute to his master. Left behind to die and to fend off for himself in the blazing inferno around him. Amidst the flying embers, the billowing smoke and the heat that is close to rivaling hell.
With a nod to the men disappearing in the shadows below, Rook closed the hatch of his helmet, tweaked the gas pumping from his tanks and prepared to face his enemies. He was ready to face his death with open arms.
With a roar of defiance amidst the burning wreckage around him, Rook threw himself at the incoming Triads.
A/N: Expect an action pact continuation for the next chapter so stay tuned. Things will get really heated up in the coming fight with some special characters popping out while at the same time see how you're favorites would face off against my Wraiths. I'm getting excited enough as it is.
And as always only the Wraiths and the OC's are mine by creation. The rest belongs to the creators of Black Lagoon.
Review on the comments below and let me know what you all think of the unexpected development as well as questions or suggestions you might have and I will see it to reply to all of them. Deadi Out.
