"I feel like I haven't gotten any sleep at all," Jason whines as he gets dressed. They really need to get more clothes made for him, especially if they're going to be romping around the North Island for some time. Maybe in a dark red. Blue would be a good choice too if it weren't for the fact that his sister's Rakyat seemed to all wear that color. He'd been one of them too, once upon a time, but that was long ago. "Do we have to go to Hoyt and give him the damn reports?"

"You don't have to come with, Jason." After the scare with the whole nightmare thing and Jason having stopped breathing for a few minutes, Vaas really didn't want to let Jason out of his sight. As worried as he had been he grins slightly as Jason attempts to put the stockings on while standing up, resulting in him swaying dangerously where he stands. "Sit down and do that." As amusing as it is to watch he doesn't want the American to go and hurt himself.

"There's someone there I have to get into contact with. His help will be vital if we want to take over the South Island as quietly as possible." He could sense a whole lot more to Jason's reasoning than just that, but he isn't going to press the issue right now. "With luck he'll be at Hoyt's compound."

"Should I be jealous of this guy or something?" It is a perfectly legitimate question, considering he's emotionally investing himself in Jason. His fears are eased by the rather cross look that flashes over Jason's face.

"Did you not hear me say you're the only man I'm attracted to yesterday?" Yes. Yes, he most certainly had. He doesn't answer though, wondering just where Jason will take this or what he'll do. "Vaas?" Jason has abandoned his attempt to put the stockings on in order to approach him. The American makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat at his continued silence and scowls at him. "I'm- Fuck. Vaas, I know you've been through a lot of fucked up shit, and a lot of it can be blamed on Citra, but I promise I will do my best to not blindside you or give you cause to distrust me."

Jason's within arms reach, his face screwed up with seriousness. There's a certain haunted look in his eyes and he seems to be recalling something from his prior experiences. Vaas wants to know everything his cub has gone through, in detail, to make him have that look. He only knows a few sparing facts, like how many times Jason has escaped death, that he's killed Hoyt and Buck before… That he might have killed his other self as well. "You have my trust, Jason, don't doubt that."

"I'm not questioning your trust in me, not by a long shot. I just… I don't want to fuck this up because, the whole tiger and dragon thing aside, I do like you. It's not reasonable or rational for me to like you, not this soon at least, but then there's nothing reasonable or rational about these islands." Jason gives him a faint smile, his mood definitely lightened.

"You're not going to fuck this up, Jason." The American's concern was sweet, though maybe not unwarranted. He didn't see Jason being the one to fuck things up for them. That was something more liable to happen on his end of things, but he was determined to not fuck this up too. "Now go and put those-" He waves at the abandoned stockings. "-on so we can go report to Hoyt. And sit down while you do it. Don't want you busting your fucking head open."

Jason glances at his discarded stockings then back at him with a scowl on his face. "Can I wear socks?"

Vaas stares at Jason for all of ten seconds then glances past him to the stockings. "No." He isn't going to waver on this when they're barely a day into this particular punishment of Jason's. Maybe down the road. "Now hurry up."

Jason gives a soft groan of protest as he turns and trudges back over to the stockings. The American seems to mutter something under his breath, and usually Vaas would be confrontational with that kind of thing but he lets it slide. They both have been through quite the emotional wringer and Jason deserves a little slack. "You know something?"

He tilts his head at the rather unanswerable question and watches Jason as he puts the stockings on with very little trouble this time around. Hm.

"I was actually looking forward to seeing Vincent in a dress."

Well that was certainly…random. "If we manage to capture him alive then I guess you can still make that happen, mi Reina." The likelihood of capturing the American fuck-up alive was slim to not at all, but he wasn't going to rain on Jason's parade.

"What does mi Reina mean?" Jason is doing that adorable face scrunching thing again, and his pronunciation is decent. Spanish lessons would definitely be beneficial, even if Jason rather take them from Carlos. That wasn't to say that he couldn't teach the American a thing or two.

"Mi means my and Reina means Queen." The explanation rewards him with a look of comprehension followed by a faint huff. Then there's the pout. Why is he pouting?

"You're not going to drop the whole monarchy thing are you?" That sounded highly rhetorical. For the record, no he wasn't.

"Not a chance, mi Reina." A delicate shade of pink blossoms on Jason's cheeks with the new endearment, though it could have been due to his tone and the way he purred it out. "Now let's get going or Hoyt'll be pissy."

Jason pulls on a regular pair of boots and follows after him with the pout and blush still present. "I rather not find out what he's like when he's pissy. He's bad enough on a regular day."

"That I am aware of." While Jason had only had a very brief interaction with Hoyt Volker, he had spent years under the man's employ. He is certainly more familiar with the man's fickle whims than anyone who isn't a Privateer. Cutting a finger off, for whatever the reason, is tame compared to some of the shit he has seen Hoyt do.

Her Mistake, His Fortune

He's kneeling on the floor at Vaas' feet, maintaining the perfect form of submission while Hoyt stares at him with a pale and disdainful gaze. Though it is tempting to defiantly return the kingpin's stare he knows better than to draw any further suspicion onto them. He knows Hoyt is incredibly suspicious and cautious, to the point that he had already known about Jason to a degree the first go round. This time he intends to get the jump on Hoyt, and for that he needs to play the part he put himself in. Vaas' pet.

"How did you come to own this charming little pet of yours, Vaas?" Hoyt asks with a slight sneer as he walks around his desks and drops into his chair. "Because I certainly don't remember seeing anything about this in the reports."

"I found him washed up on the shore a couple months back. He was unconscious at the time, didn't have an ID on him and business was starting to pick up so I left him in the care of one of my more trusted men. By the time I got back around to him he'd woken up and had severe amnesia." Vaas slowly runs his fingers through Jason's hair as he speaks in a calm and unaffected tone.

He closes his eyes and leans towards Vaas, making it seem like he's in need of soothing and attention. It also feels rather nice and he can tell that it's keeping the pirate lord calm, so their act is that much less of an act.

Hoyt's renewed stare is weighty but it doesn't stay on him for too long. "And he is fully compliant?"

"Yes." Vaas' fingers pause in his hair then slide down to the back of his head. "He responded very well to his training and it's made him completely loyal to me." Those fingers grip his hair and a sharp tug has him keening out a mewl as his head is jerked back.

He opens his eyes and stares up at Vaas, his gaze met with a composed indifference. Underneath the façade there is worry, for him, and a hope that they can make it through this unscathed.

"Yes, that would make sense, though he seems quite willful for a mere pet, Vaas." Hoyt rummages through the draws of his desk for a few seconds then the distinctive click of a zippo lighter opening sounds.

"Permission to speak," he interjects in a demure tone, at which Vaas' fingers tighten in his hair once more.

There seems to be a pause and then Vaas' grip relaxes. "You may speak," the pirate lord says in a low rumble.

"I belong to him completely so I am whatever my Master needs me to be. Pet. Slave. Weapon. Shield. I must be able to defend myself if I am to defend him, otherwise I am of no use to him." The words come out in a purr and he hoods his gaze while a smile forms on his lips. The fingers resting in his hair tense slightly then resume their earlier petting motion.

"Fascinating," Hoyt muses and shuffles through some of the papers on his desk. "Is there anything else you have to report to me?"

"Yeah, actually. There was supposed to be a large group of American skydivers the other day, eight of them. My men only found one chute when they went to check the landing site and a blood bath out in the water." There's well-placed anger in Vaas' voice as he speaks, his gaze back on Hoyt. "I haven't checked with the guys on the mainland yet, 'cause I know they aren't stupid enough to fuck with the business, so I have my men hunting down the survivor."

While Hoyt seems to take the news in the doors to the office swing open behind them. A pair of heavy footsteps enter and approach, pausing next to him and Vaas.

"Ja, Boss," came the German-accented voice of Sam Becker, the very person they needed to get into contact with.

"Becker…" Hoyt starts with a drawl. "I'm assigning you to watching over the operations on Rook North for the next couple of months."

"Boss?" There's genuine panic in Vaas' voice, a frown twisting over his face before he flinches.

"I should make you pay for your pet, or better yet make you hand him over, especially with that much product gone…but you haven't given me any problems in the years you've worked for me. I'll be generous just this once, Vaas, and let you keep him on the condition that Becker oversees the operation for the next couple of months." Hoyt's tone takes on a dangerous edge, inflected with anger. The scent of burning tobacco from the kingpin's favorite brand of cigars, Cohiba, perfumes the air.

"Okay, Boss…" Vaas responds in a subdued manner, his hand withdrawing from Jason's hair.

"As I was saying, Becker, I want you to oversee the operations and you are to send me daily reports. Leave nothing out." The chair behind the desk creaks as Hoyt likely gets up and the lightness of his footsteps come around the ornate wooden structure. "And keep an eye on this…pet of Vaas'." Hoyt peers down at him with that same expression of disdain from earlier. "Now leave."

"Ja, Boss." Becker glances down at him with a faint frown, the CIA operative's brows furrowing as he scrutinizes Jason.

"Up, Snow. Let's go," Vaas orders, voice low while his fingers lightly trace over his hair.

He complies with the order, his legs partially numb due to the posture he had to use, but thankfully doesn't wobble or stagger. He turns at the light touch to his waist then takes careful measured steps as he walks out of the office, his legs tingling. It seems like he doesn't regain complete feeling in them until they're outside and on the way over to the Scavenger.

"You are going to be the death of me, Jason," Vaas whispers as he grabs him by the wrists and stops him from climbing into the vehicle. "Hoyt's breathing down our necks, we're being babysat like fucking children and I still have no idea who it is you're trying to meet over here."

"I don't know if this will make things better or worse," he says in a low tone as he turns to face Vaas. "Our babysitter is the person I need to meet and Hoyt's already suspicious about him." Or was it that Hoyt already knew about him?

Vaas stares at him for a long moment, the silence stretching on between them until Becker clears his throat from the other side of the vehicle. The pirate lord gives a shake of his head at the interruption then motions for him to get into the Scavenger.

He climbs into the back with Becker while Vaas reluctantly takes the driver's seat. Sitting across from the German-raised American he wonders how the undercover operative will react to what he has to say. Maybe he shouldn't reveal much of anything. "So, Becker, I suppose introductions are in order."

Her Mistake, His Fortune

"I don't see how you expect me to believe that you're going to take down Hoyt," Sam comments as he looks Jason over for a moment then in his direction. "Especially when you say that this…one is in on it. How do I know that this isn't some ploy of Hoyt's when you're telling me he's already suspicious about me."

"Hoyt doesn't know who I am, he doesn't know where I'm from and he sure as hell doesn't know that I'm more than just a simple, well-trained pet to Vaas." Jason leans against him even though the American knows he is wary about anyone so closely associated to Hoyt finding out just how much he cares for him. He still wraps an arm around Jason's waist despite his worries while he shifts against the side of the Scavenger they had commandeered from one of their patrols once they had reached Rook North. "Unless he receives some sort of dossier on all of his incoming…products."

"Only once they're processed. It's supposed to be sent in with the reports when he doesn't come over himself to check on his new stock." That's how it's always been for as long as he's worked for Hoyt. It would have to continue, of course, to keep the kingpin from growing even more suspicious of them.

"And now I'm in charge of reporting to him. How does this fit into your plans?" Becker sounds understandably annoyed at the position he's been put in, but it can't possibly compare to his own annoyance, his worries and his fears.

"Well, it actually helps in that I didn't have to wait God knows how long before trying to find you on Rook South. We can plan our takeover of the Southern Island now and lay the groundwork for it when you get reassigned back over there." Jason has a hell of a lot of confidence in his voice and he seems to be radiating a surprising calmness.

The conversation ceases as the rumbling of multiple car engines approach them from the direction of Amanaki village. Jason tenses slightly against him and stares down the road warily. The American had chosen this particular outpost, almost seemingly at random, only it doesn't seem so random when the approaching vehicles prove to be carrying Rakyat. Rakyat and a very familiar face.

"Well fuck," Jason exclaims and reaches for the MP5-N in the back of the Scavenger as the two Rakyat Scavengers stop a fair distance away from them. "I was hoping for a little more time before we started butting heads with them."

"You knew they'd be attacking this outpost?" He draws out his own gun, a modified Colt M1911, and aims at the closest Scavenger full of Rakyat. There's another familiar face, one he definitely wants to put a bullet in, amongst the passengers. Dennis Rogers.

"Yeah, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. I don't know how long I was out for the last go round." Jason moves around him, into the line of fire, then opens the door to the Scavenger to use it as cover. "Becker, go get the men stationed at this outpost and hope that they don't shoot you first."

"Yeah, sure." Becker shoulders his P416 and heads up the road to the outpost while the Rakyat slowly climb out of their vehicles.

"Hold your fire," Dennis orders, motioning for the Rakyat Warriors with him to stand down. "Vincent, is that one of your friends?" Dennis gives the traitorous American a cursory glance then fixes his gaze on Jason.

"He's no friend of mine," Vincent answers tightly as he boldly walks around the group of Rakyat to stand at Dennis' side. "Cross-dressing pirate whore."

"You might not get to see him in a dress, cariño," he whispers harshly from where he's crouched along the side of the Scavenger. He doesn't have too clear of a shot at any of them and he can't risk breaking cover when they're severely outnumbered.

"Hey, he's only partially right. I am a cross-dressing pirate." Jason cracks a faint grin and shifts where he's crouched. "Queen, Vincent. I'm the Queen of the Pirates," the American corrects. "We established that yesterday at lunch. By the way, your insults aren't even grade school worthy, Vincent."

Vincent looks like he's ready to say something else, likely another failed insult, but Dennis cuts him off with a sharp look. Once the Liberian's certain Vincent won't interrupt he looks to Jason again. "You must be the Jason Brody that Citra has spoken of, the Warrior who has strayed from the path she has set you on. She thinks that you can be persuaded to return to the path, but I see what it is that she cannot."

"You can't see shit," he calls out with a growl and moves closer to Jason, a sense of unease curling in his gut. "Get behind me," he instructs in a low tone.

"No," Jason hisses out defiantly.

"Now is not the time to be stubborn, Jason." He's met with a glare that he returns, but there's very little he can do. He could drag Jason away from the pseudo cover, but that would put both of them at a larger risk.

"You have turned your back on the Rakyat and Citra, Jason. That you would openly and willingly ally yourself with Vaas; you've spat in our faces. There is no returning to the Rakyat for you." Dennis' tone has taken on a quality that he does not like, never mind the fact that the Liberian is pointedly ignoring his presence in favor of Jason's.

"Good," Jason says in a rather jovial tone, making it obvious that he doesn't care about Dennis' not-so-subtle death threat. "Cause I'm quite happy with Vaas."

That seems to end their discussion and with it the Rakyat open fire on them. Jason thankfully scuttles back from his pseudo cover and hunkers down next to him, a manic grin stretched over his face.

"BLITZKRIEG!" The sudden shout sounds over the intermittent fire and a cacophony of shouts and more gunfire comes from behind them. Reinforcements have arrived.