Roanapur, 1995
After that first night, Astrid found it hard to stay away from Chang for long. He was like a drug, and she missed his touch the moment she left. If they could, they'd fuck every night, but they both had jobs to do, and it was in both of their interests to keep their relationship, such as it was, quiet.
Several months passed this way. Chang would call Astrid at her apartment and ask her to come over, and they'd spend the night together in his private rooms, which quickly became their sanctuary. When she did a hit for the Triad she always picked up her money in person and stayed the night.
When they were alone Chang was almost playful. He could always make her laugh. He indulged her immature antics, letting her experiment with mixing drinks (with disgusting results) and only chiding her for jumping on the bed to mess with his bodyguards the third time (because the second time he had definitely heard a crack somewhere, and it wasn't even that funny the first time).
They talked a lot. Astrid was still slow to open up, and Chang had learned almost nothing new about her past since she'd told him she had been a soldier. But he knew other things, like not to ask too many questions, because when she wanted to tell him something she would, and that she liked to sleep with him at her back.
She knew that when she woke up in the morning, he'd have gone without waking her.
But Astrid could never get in touch with him, if she wanted to. She had the numbers for Triad headquarters, but that wasn't a direct line to Chang. She'd have to call up and talk to one of his little brothers, ask if he was around. And he often wasn't, she knew. He was busy a lot, always working. Astrid got it, and she had a life of her own, too, she didn't sit by the phone waiting. But there were moments, when she was alone in her apartment at night, maybe just back from drinking at the Yellow Flag, maybe staying in to chain smoke, stare at the ceiling, and think; in those moments, she'd want to call him, and knew she couldn't. All she could do was wonder.
So, Astrid was half pleased, half irritated, when Chang hired her, Revy and Lagoon Company to help out with a job. Pleased, because it was an excuse to see each other without suspicion. Irritated, because she couldn't do what she wanted to do with him in front of Dutch and Revy.
Dutch, the man who Revy now worked for, was an enigma, in every sense of the word. He was friendly enough, seemed competent, and Astrid was happy to trust that he knew what he was doing, probably better than she did. But she couldn't figure him out. He seemed intelligent, enough to be out of place in this line of work. There was no word on what he had been before he wound up in Roanapur. Astrid, Dutch and Revy met at Lagoon Company's offices before the job to discuss what they were going to do.
"Okay," Dutch began, his deep voice filling the office with ease, "this is the job; we're transporting cargo to Mr. Chang and the other mafia bosses, nothing more. Our cargo is Mr. Roth." Revy, in the process of loading and checking her Berettas, laughed.
"Shit," she said, "what'd he do?" Dutch shrugged.
"Don't know, don't care. I didn't ask. It's not good to ask questions in this business. Astrid, I don't normally work with people outside the company, but Mr. Chang recommended you and said we might need the extra gun. He said you worked with Revy."
Astrid nodded and shrugged at the same time, glancing at Revy.
"Yeah, we worked together," she said, truthfully, "but not on a job like this."
"You can say that again," Revy cackled, finishing up with her Berettas and holstering them. She took out a cigarette and lit it, swinging her heavy boots up on the table with a thud.
"Either way," Dutch continued, "if Revy says she can trust you," he paused, looking at Revy, who blew out a stream of smoke and nodded, "then that's good enough for me. So, we pick up here," Dutch pointed to a spot on the map near the water, "while the boss's men do whatever it is they do to Mr. Roth's entourage. We shuttle him around the bay until things cool down, effectively keeping him hostage. Then we take him to the drop off," Dutch indicated another point on the map, a bar, one Astrid hadn't been to, "and hand him over to Mr. Chang, Balalaika, and the rest. Should be straight forward. Got it?"
It was.
Astrid and Revy had been shown a picture of Mr. Roth, but even if they hadn't he would have been easy to pick out. He was wearing a cheap dark suit, and was in the centre of his wanna-be bodyguards looking for all the world like a man afraid for his life. Half of his guys tried to run when the assault team, headed by Hotel Moscow, showed up. After that he was easy pickings.
"Shut the fuck up!" Revy screamed in the man's ear, grabbing hold of his hair and trying to drag him along, keeping one gun on him. "This guy's gonna piss himself," she said to Astrid, who had her Beretta out and was covering Revy's back.
"You got him?" Cho, one of Chang's men, asked Astrid, raising his voice to be heard over the gunshots and general chaos. Astrid gave a definite nod, her attention still on providing cover for Revy. "Okay, see you back at the rendezvous point."
Revy, backed by Astrid, half dragged half shepherded Roth to the port, where Dutch was waiting for them. They shoved him on the boat, still whimpering, and Dutch took off without waiting.
"Move it! Comon'!" Revy kicked Roth in the back, shoving him down into the cabin. Astrid followed, holstering her Beretta.
"How'd it go?" Dutch asked, as soon as they descended.
"Easy," Astrid replied, pistol whipping Roth who had tried to make a last-minute run for it when he saw Dutch. Revy laughed.
"Yeah, too easy," she said, taking out her own Beretta and waving it at the ceiling, "didn't even get to fire these babies. Gonna need a reason to, soon, before I die from boredom."
"Well, don't shoot in here, Revy," Dutch retorted, dead pan, "last thing we need is a ship full of holes. Take him down to the hold, Revy."
"Sure thing, boss. Comon', you!" Revy saluted with her pistol before turning to Roth and giving him another kick, while Astrid approached the co-captains seat and sat down, lighting up a cigarette as she went.
"Want one?" she asked Dutch, once the clanging sounds of Revy kicking Roth down to the hold had faded. Dutch nodded, and Astrid handed him the pack with her lighter in it. When he had lit up, Dutch reached under the controls and grabbed a beer from a cooler.
"Want one?"
Astrid took the beer he offered, and decided Dutch was alright. They drank in comfortable silence, neither of them being big talkers. When Astrid finished her beer, she leaned forward on the controls, careful not to push anything, and rested her chin on her folded arms, staring out the window at the sky, which was slowly darkening.
After a while Revy joined them, saying Roth wasn't going anywhere. They drove around the bay for a few hours, until it got close to their drop off time.
"Should head in now," Dutch said, shifting the controls and steering the boat towards the pier.
"I'll go check on the guy," Astrid said, standing up and heading into the hold. Roth was exactly where Revy had left him, sitting in a corner, looking white as a sheet. Astrid brought him out, and together she, Dutch and Revy escorted him the short distance through the streets of Roanapur. Revy kept her gun pressed into his back, her trigger finger twitching, with the promise that if he tried to run he'd get a bullet in the back for his trouble. The way Roth looked at Dutch told Astrid that he wasn't going to try running again.
"This is the place," Dutch said, stopping and indicating a bar that was as close to fancy as it got in Roanapur. There were two men outside waiting for them, one a Triad member Astrid recognised, the other a Russian that she didn't. They approached Dutch and exchanged nods.
"This way," said the Russian, leading the four of them around the back of the bar and through a side door. Roth let out an audible whimper as the door opened into darkness, but Revy gave him another kick to get him moving.
The sounds from the bar permeated the walls, loud music and chatter. They headed upstairs, and went through a door into another room. As soon as the door shut behind them, the sounds of the bar downstairs were shut out.
This room was like the bar downstairs, but more plushly furnished; it was mostly red, with arm chairs and tables, as well as its own private bar with a bartender. Chang, Balalaika, and several other bosses Astrid had never seen before, were all seated around a table, their men surrounding them.
"Mr. Roth!" Chang welcomed, standing up, immediately taking the situation in hand, "so you finally chose to join us?"
Roth stammered, searching for a reply that wouldn't come as Chang smiled down at him, his eyes hidden by his glasses.
"Make Mr. Roth comfortable," he said to his little brothers, and they grabbed him, shoving him roughly into a wooden chair on top of a tarp, and producing duct tape to strap his wrists and ankles to it. Roth found his voice.
"It wasn't me, I swear!" he all but screamed, completely losing it, struggling uselessly, his eyes bulging.
"What wasn't you?" Balalaika asked, pausing to take another drag of her cigar, "the unauthorised drug trafficking through our city? Or the attack that killed one of Verrocchio's men?" She gestured to the blonde man wearing a green suit.
"We didn't know! We didn't know who he was. Please-!" Astrid had stepped over to where several Triad members she knew were standing, her back to the wall and half in shadow. She wanted to stay, to see what happened next. No one was paying any attention to her.
"You can go, Dutch," Chang said, "you'll receive payment soon."
"Sure thing, Mr. Chang," Dutch replied, grabbing Revy by the shoulder and steering her towards the door. "Come on, Revy. Let's go drink."
"Anything you want on my tab, Dutch," Chang called after them, and Revy laughed. The door opened, and the sounds from the bar downstairs came into the room.
"Thanks, boss man!" she called as she left, shooting Astrid a wink before the door closed. All the while, Roth had started screaming.
"HELP! Someone help, please, he-!" the door shut, cutting off the sounds from downstairs, around the same time Chang slugged Roth in the face.
The chair rocked backwards on its back legs for a moment, but didn't fall. Roth shut up. Chang flexed his hand, towering over Roth, who cowered.
"Now, Mr. Roth," he said, as though they were having a perfectly normal conversation, "you're going to tell us everything we want to know. And to help you along, we'll be employing methods to jog your memory. Anything to add, Verrocchio?"
Verrocchio shook his head, grinning, a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth.
"Looks like you and yours got it handled, Chang," he replied, his eyes never leaving Roth's face, the grin never dropping.
Astrid had been watching the scene intently, but suddenly felt eyes on her. She looked, and saw Balalaika watching her closely. The Russian held her cigar between her teeth, and stared at Astrid while she took another long drag, and blew the smoke into the room. Astrid felt unable to look away. Eventually Balalaika turned her attention back to Chang, who sat down in a chair and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"Okay, Mr. Roth," he said, as his men took out a large, suspiciously stained meat cleaver, "question one..."
Chang and his men made short work of Roth. Whenever he hesitated, insisted he didn't know, or gave an answer they didn't like, he lost a finger. One of Chang's men hacked the offending digit off with the cleaver. The method was effective, and resulted in a lot of blood and screaming. The other bosses took turns asking their questions. At one answer, Balalaika nodded to her second command, who swiftly left the room, presumably to take care of something.
Astrid watched, fascinated. She had never seen anyone really tortured before; in the Israeli army, she had been subjected to torture training, but being a woman and not in one of the very specialised units she had experienced the milder version. It had been mostly psychological, keeping her in the dark, not letting her sleep, berating her. As fascinated as she was by the scene in front of her, she was equally interested in Chang's reaction. His eyes never left Roth. Not long after the torture started he shifted position, turning his chair so he was facing Roth straight on, leaning towards and resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers were steepled, and he stared at Roth over them, his eyes obscured. He never raised his voice, and he never reacted, even when Roth lost his last finger and screamed bloody murder, sobbing loudly.
"I think that's all we're going to get out of him," Chang said, once Roth's scream died to a whimper.
"How do you want to dispose of him, Verrocchio?" Balalaika asked, looking at the Italian, "it was your man he killed, after all."
Verrocchio laughed, leering at Roth.
"I think he needs a new pair of shoes. Boys, see to it that he gets them."
"What? No, please, I told you everything, I swear, I SWEAR..."
Chang shrugged as Roth was dragged away by Verrocchio's men, kicking and screaming despite the blood loss. "Not my preferred method," he said, "but each to their own." He turned back to the table at large, and Astrid thought his eyes glanced her way for a moment, but it was hard to tell.
"Well, I think we can consider tonight a success," Balalaika said, as Roth's screams faded away.
"Agreed," Chang replied, "I think we should celebrate. My tab downstairs is still open, and your boys are welcome to it." Balalaika chuckled, while her men behind her grinned.
"I'm sure you'll live to regret those words, Chang," she said, though she was smiling.