A/N: Well now, look who's back!

Yep, EXACTLY one year later (seriously, to the day!), and here I am FINALLY posting a new chap to this story. Hm, just a tad-bit overdue, wouldn't you say?

Just so you know, for the character Jaqual, I had a thirty-year-old Sendhil Ramamurthy (from the TV series Heroes and Covert Affairs) in mind.

Also, the first part of this chap is based off of the cutscene 'Spare the Rod...' from the Samedi storyline from SR2. Reference that scene if you wish.

Now, on to our tale...

Chapter 36

Episode 4: The Other Side of the Coin

Part 2

The Mills, Factories District, southern Stilwater

Tuesday, May 31, 2011, 10:59am

heading towards the Tallen Meats Slaughterhouse

…

…

Designed during a special collaboration of the Dobson and Zanin car manufacturers, the Hounfor was a unique limousine made under the General's exacting specifications. For such a large automobile it had acceptable handling, decent acceleration, and was surprisingly quick. It was also probably the most armored non-military vehicle on the roads of Stilwater.

The dark green and black vehicle, highlighted with light grey Voudon symbols on its hood and sides, drove through Southern Stilwater. Citizens took note as the ominous car moved onward; prowling the roads like a giant shark it was the seldom seen, but decidedly well-known symbol of power for the street gang known as the Sons of Samedi.

Jean San-Pierre was silent as he rode in the back of the limo. He studied the other passengers as the large vehicle continued along the streets.

The thin Asian man, Checkers, was in the middle of the seat next to him, with Taibot by the opposite window. Across from them, smoking one of his expensive Cuban cigars, sat the General dressed in his customary white suit.

As they passed into the The Mills area, San-Pierre's eyes narrowed. The Tallen Meats Slaughterhouse came into view. Were they headed towards the hidden base of Mr. Sunshine? Apparently so.

They turned off the main road onto the dirt path, passing the garage housing the delivery trucks and moved onto the blacktop parking lot of the factory. As they approached the factory's main entrance, San-Pierre espied a lone figure awaiting them. He sat upright in surprise as he recognized the individual.

It was Mr. Sunshine himself.

Wearing his familiar dark jacket and matching slacks he was standing almost nonchalantly near one of the loading docks where the sides of beef were routinely dropped off. His hands were clasped behind his back and he appeared to be humming a tune. The whole situation seemed… odd to say the least; for some unknown reason this instilled San-Pierre with an unknown dread.

As the Hounfor slowed and came to a stop, Mr. Sunshine approached the vehicle then opened the rear driver's side door.

San-Pierre looked to his leader, trying to hide his perplexity.

The General had a hint of a scowl on his face and glanced at the three men occupying the back seat. He grabbed his machete and stepped out. San-Pierre's eyed widened in concern as understanding finally began to dawn on him.

The General stood with his back to the limo. He sighed quietly then spoke to his second-in-command.

"You know why I am here," he said in his smooth, rich voice.

"I do," the voodoo priest replied as he approached his commander.

The General scowled again and raised the machete. He turned to his most loyal follower and approached. The voudon practitioner grew quiet and tilted his head to the right. The General reached out and grabbed the dark priest by the left ear as he brought the blade close.

"Aw fuck me, he ain't!" exclaimed the skinny man named Checkers. "Nuh uh!"

The leader of the Samedi began sawing away at his friend's ear, slicing it neatly off his head. The voodoo priest raised his left arm and clenched his hand into a fist. To his credit, though, Mr. Sunshine gave no other indication that the wound caused him any harm – he uttered no sound, made no grimace.

A look of honest sympathy crossed the General's face as he regarded his follower now bereft of his ear.

"I took no pleasure in this, my friend… but a price needed to be paid for failure," he explained.

"Don't worry," Mr. Sunshine responded as blood streamed down the left side of his neck. "I only need one ear to hear the whispers of the Loa…"

The General smiled and looked pleased. He grasped his friend by the shoulder and stared into his eyes.

"I know that you will fix this."

"Of course, General," the dark priest agreed, "…do not worry." He moved to the waiting limo and opened the door for his leader who promptly got in. The idling vehicle began moving again as soon as the door closed.

San-Pierre glanced back as they drove away. He saw Mr. Sunshine regarding them solemnly.

"Now then," the General continued to his assembled men. "That bit of unpleasantness is behind us. I hope no further demonstrations will be necessary."

San-Pierre looked at his leader in silence. He understood the message clearly. Mr. Sunshine was the General's most trusted follower and probably the closest thing their commander had to a friend in all of the Samedi. And yet, without mercy, he permanently maimed him. Yes, the message was most definitely clear: If this is what I'll do to my best follower, imagine what will happen if one of you fails me again.

The thought was not a pleasant one.

"In two days be ready gentlemen," the General's voice roused San-Pierre out of his dark thoughts as they drove out of the neighborhood. "We will be having a special guest arriving by ship at Slippery Finn's in Sunnyvale Gardens. You will meet him and provide him with anything he needs."

"Who we be meetin' wit', General?" Taibot asked cautiously.

"Someone who is going to deal with our problems. Someone who will handle these accursed Third Street Saints." The General leaned forward and gestured with his cigar. "Someone handpicked by… Sister Calypso."

San-Pierre blinked in surprise as he heard Taibot suck in a sharp breath. Sister Calypso? Things had gotten more out of hand than he thought if the General's cousin had decided to become involved. He and his fellow lieutenants had to be careful if they were going to survive the coming weeks.

As he sat in the moving limo, San-Pierre wished he was anywhere but here…

Quinbecca, Suburbs Expansion District, northern Stilwater

Tuesday, May 31, 2011, 4:17pm

…

…

As he sat in the pleasantly decorated waiting room, Jaqual wished he was anywhere but here…

He'd been tasked by San-Pierre with the job of escorting Kiwi, one of the General's… companions to the Image as Designed. As usual, he had obeyed. He sighed again as he waited in the cushioned seat. Finally, his charge entered the waiting room from the back office - a beautiful, full-figured, young woman with black hair pulled tight into cornrows and smooth, dusky skin hinting at her mixed Haitian and American ancestry.

Jaqual stood, straightening his jacket and slacks as he did so. He nodded to the woman who had a big grin on her face.

"Well?" she asked, a slight hint of a French accent to her voice.

"Pardon me?"

"Do they look okay? The General will like them, no?"

He gave her a confused look to which she merely sighed.

"My contacts," she explained widening her eyes so he could see them better. They were a bright green color. "I had them enhance my natural color. I hope they are pleasing."

He nodded. "They appear fine." He moved to the door and opened it for her.

"Oh! A gentleman. Thank you," she smiled as she passed through. "I just hope Serena won't be upset. It was her idea after all."

"I don't understand," he admitted as they approached the parked sedan.

"Serena? My friend at the Hapton Hotel?" the young woman explained. "She is the General's personal assistant. It was her idea for me to get the purple contacts – she said they would seem exotic. She said the General would like them." Kiwi frowned. "She was wrong."

"The tall Asian woman?"

She nodded.

"Mm," he shook his head.

"What?"

"Nothing," he muttered.

"Please, tell me."

"It's not really my place…" he began.

Kiwi stopped and turned to look at him with her hands on her hips.

"You can't just 'mm' and then say 'nevermind'," she balked. "What is it?"

He sighed as he looked down. After a moment he glanced up and caught her gaze.

"This Serena seemed extremely content at the General's anger. She had a smile on her face and was quick to be 'of service' to him by lighting his cigar." He nodded slightly. "I would suspect you were set up to anger the General and thus clear a way for her own advancement."

The girl blinked, her mouth slightly agape. Then she narrowed her eyes and set her jaw into a scowl with a flare of her nostrils.

"You are telling me the truth?"

"I have no cause to deceive you, but I shouldn't have spoken up at all," he said earnestly. "Regardless, that is the way it appeared. To me at least."

She stood still for a moment, then…

"I do not think we will be leaving just yet," she announced.

This time it was Jaqual who blinked in surprise.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"The General treated me poorly today," she groused, rubbing her arm where a bruise was starting to form. "He lent me his black card, and now I am hungry. Let us get something to eat."

"I thought…" Jaqual began.

She walked to the parking lot at the end of the block where Rich A. Rounds Bistro was located in the eastern corner of a short strip mall.

"You are coming, no?" she inquired.

He reluctantly nodded his head as he followed.

They'd gotten a booth close to the back corner. Jaqual sat with his back to the far wall so he could observe the dining area while Kiwi finished placing her order.

They sat quietly for a while before she finally broke the silence.

"So, how is it that Jean San-Pierre's assassin is watching over one of the General's girls?"

He focused his attention on her.

"I am not an assassin," he replied with a slight scowl. "I do not like that term. I am merely Mr. San-Pierre's bodyguard."

"I didn't… I mean, no insult was intended," she apologized. "It's just, I was curious. Truthfully a lot of people are curious about you. A man who fights with such skill and shows such loyalty, yet doesn't believe in the Loa and…" She trailed off, noticing the dark look that crossed his face.

She sat quietly, shifting her gaze downward. She picked at the end of her napkin, her discomfort obvious.

"I was merely curious," she muttered meekly. Her eyes remained cast down; no doubt she had gotten used to the idea of being dismissed out of hand or told her place did not involve conversing with others.

Jaqual sighed deeply then cleared his throat.

"During the course of my employment with Mr. San-Pierre," he began, "there have been instances when an enemy gave me no choice. Several in fact."

She looked up into his eyes as he leaned forward.

"But I'm no killer. No assassin. Let us be clear about that. I am efficient in my methods, and they are most final. But I take no pleasure from them. I do as I am asked. That is all."

She nodded quickly.

"And you are correct in your assumption. I do not follow the way of your Loa." He reached out and grasped his drink bringing it to his lips. "My association with Mr. San-Pierre is based off… other reasons." He took a quick sip.

"You are lovers then, no?" she asked innocently.

"PFFFT!" He spat his drink out and started coughing.

When he finally could get himself under control he croaked out, "What? No! Why would you ask such a thing?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered with a slight giggle. She handed him her napkin. "It is just that no one has seen you with a woman. And San-Pierre, well, he is said to have, um, interesting tastes."

"My dealings with Mr. San-Pierre are professional only. He helped me once with…" he hesitated, obviously having revealed much more than he originally intended.

She chuckled lowly.

"It doesn't matter what you say," she admitted. "I have heard just about everything. They do not think to conceal much when you aren't considered that important. Besides, I know what will befall me should I repeat anything. I have learned to keep many secrets if I want to survive, yes?"

For a moment, she laid herself bare to him. She showed him the briefest glimpse of her life and her situation – of what it must be to live as one of the General's women. It was a pitiful life to be sure. Perhaps that is why he continued on.

"My father was part of a group of financial investors from overseas," he said with a low smirk. "Very good at his job, very good at making money."

He stopped and took a deep breath.

"Although he did well, he had the unfortunate habit of being completely honest. This didn't sit so well with some of his associates who decided to seek easier and less legal forms of making money. He was betrayed by them and violently removed."

The girl looked shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry." She reached a hand across the table to touch his, but he pulled back out of her reach.

"Regardless, I sought the perpetrators of the crime with little luck. Fortunately, Mr. San-Pierre knew the criminal element well. He was able to use some of his contacts and, with the information gleaned, I was able to exact revenge."

She nodded. "You put things right."

"Yes," he went on. "Then when Mr. San-Pierre and the rest of the Samedi moved here, I followed. He'd assisted me and I was... grateful for what he had done for me. Though most of his methods are not the best, I do owe him much."

"Like a life-debt?" she inquired. "You placed yourself at his disposal for a debt you felt you could not easily pay, no?"

He leaned back, surprise on his face. "Yes, that is how I felt. How…?"

"I am not completely ignorant, Mr.… um, is it Mr. Jaqual?"

He smirked. "Jaqual is my first name. My family name is unimportant. You may just call me Jaqual."

She nodded with a smile. "Jaqual it shall be." She leaned back. "My own situation back home was not as dark as yours, but I was an extra mouth to feed in a large, poor family. I was turned to factory work at an early age."

A humorless smile went to her lips.

"As I grew older, I was noticed by some of the owners of the factory for, shall we say, my natural attributes. That led to, uhm…"

Her eyes unfocused momentarily and her brow furrowed as less than pleasant memories resurfaced. After a moment, she blinked then glanced back at him with a forced chuckle.

"But that is past now, no? We are here now in America, the land of opportunity."

Jaqual looked down at his drink.

"Indeed," he replied quietly.

"So then, here is to us!" She raised her glass and nodded for him to do the same.

His eyes narrowed in perplexity.

"Just two non-natives sitting and enjoying a meal," she said with a smile. "No talk of killings or other unpleasant situations. No thought of crimes or betrayals of those you thought friends."

He glanced quickly at the empty Image as Designed contact case resting near her purse and understood the latter part of her speech. A half-grin formed on his lips.

"Very well, then."

He raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers.

"Here is to us," he agreed solemnly.

Sunsinger, Arena District, Southern Stilwater

Tuesday, May 31, 2011, 7:13pm

…

…

The black sedan pulled smoothly into the Hapton Hotel's underground garage and into one of several spaces reserved for the Sons of Samedi's vehicles. Jaqual got out, walked around and opened the passenger side door.

"Merci," Kiwi said with a smile. "For this and the meal. It was nice to be away from everything, to escape from our fates if only for a little while, no?" She reached for his shoulder and was pleased when he didn't pull away this time.

"Indeed."

"I can see my way up," she informed him. "Be careful when you are out there, doing what it is you do."

He nodded slightly as she smiled again and then headed to the elevator. He watched her for a moment, but the sounds of movement behind him made him tense and turn towards the source. It was a rapidly approaching San-Pierre.

"Ah, there you are, my friend," his employer said with relief in his voice. "Good, good. We have much to prepare for. There's no time today, but I've already taken the liberty of calling the Magic Man. We need to see him tomorrow."

Jaqual nodded quietly.

"The day was rather insane, to say the least," San-Pierre grumbled. "At least for me. I take it your day went better?"

Jaqual nodded again then turned as he heard the elevator bell chime. He watched as Kiwi entered and gave him a quick wink right before the doors closed.

"It was not altogether unpleasant," he admitted.

San-Pierre's face twisted into an odd grin.

"What's this?" he asked as he glanced at the closed doors of the elevators. He chuckled. "Oh well now, I wasn't expecting that."

Jaqual turned to his employer with a raised eyebrow.

"You know," the Samedi lieutenant muttered as he leaned towards his bodyguard, "I can make arrangements to have her services made available to you, if you so wish."

Jaqual scowled. "That won't be necessary, Mr. San-Pierre. It isn't like that. She was merely more pleasant company than I expected."

"I'm sure she was, my friend." The Samedi chuckled darkly. "I'm sure she was."

A/N: Wow, San-Pierre can never just NOT come across as slime, can he?

Anyway, people are probably wondering where I've been all this time. Needless to say, I had some issues of a personal nature that almost resulted in me giving up this story. However, a good friend of mine told me to wait and let it sit, then write again when I was ready.

I'm glad I listened. I don't expect everybody to have waited to see what was next (especially 365 days later), but if you're still reading this I wanted you to know I plan on continuing with the tale.

Thank you to any and everyone that has ever followed, liked, commented, criticized, or reviewed my story. I appreciate you more than you know.