Chapter 26: O Captain! My Captain!
"You want something to drink?" Dutch asked, falling back into his seat as Balalaika came through the door.
"Sure. I'll have whatever you're having to make it easier for you." Dutch eyed the bottle of Ardbeg on the table. Normally, he was quite protective of his favourite scotch. But he wasn't quite feeling himself tonight and he decided not to worry so much. Balalaika grabbed herself a small glass before sitting across from Dutch and he poured her a drink.
"I wasn't expecting a call so late but I'm just glad it wasn't someone else. Feel like I've worked enough for a lifetime." Balalaika chuckled.
"You and me both. It's been an eventful few months."
"Try years," Dutch corrected her. "Speaking of, how are things with you guys lately? The 216 been giving you any more trouble?"
"None at all. As a matter of fact, whatever scheme dear Rock cooked up seems to have worked a treat. My people see them every now and then but they're keeping their heads down for the most part, if you don't count the occasional drunken brawl."
"Sounds like Chang really lucked out on this one. He gets the Task Force in his pocket and he can take credit for getting the city out of a tough spot. Do I detect a shift in the balance of power?" Balalaika smirked and tapped her nose with one finger.
"That would be telling, Dutch," she answered deviously. While he had been making a joke and did not believe there would be any turbulence between Hotel Moscow and the Triad, it must have been somewhat concerning, or at the very least noteworthy, that Chang had managed to elevate his position during this. With the 216 at his command, the police were effectively at his mercy and he had secured himself as the most powerful man in the city, though that was arguably the case already. It wouldn't surprise Dutch if the Russians would be keeping tabs on Chang from hereon out as a precaution if nothing else.
Balalaika glanced around the apartment as she swirled the scotch in its glass.
"The rest of Lagoon Company aren't home, I take it?"
"Not tonight," Dutch told her. "Don't ask me where Benny is. Revy…well, she's probably getting wasted somewhere."
"She ought to be a bit more careful, if rumours are to be believed. From what I hear, Alejandro has been moving around the city."
"You've seen him?" Dutch asked, his interest piqued.
"No confirmed sightings," Balalaika admitted, much to the surprise of Lagoon's leader. "Not since shortly after your people returned from Venezuela, anyway. As it happens, he's managed to remain frustratingly well hidden. But there are some who claim to have seen him most recently and they were eager to pass this information onto us…for a price, of course."
"Revy can take care of herself," Dutch said optimistically. "But thanks for the heads up. I was wondering when he'd rear his head."
"He's not the only one. Am I right in saying you had some unexpected guests when you were fighting off the 216? Three rather rabid dogs, from what I gather, and nasty ones at that."
"Is there anything you don't know?" Dutch asked, taking a drink of his scotch. "You're in the wrong business because you would have made one hell of an information broker."
"I'm flattered."
"I was as surprised as you to see those three working together. You know well Ashur and Wolf have been trying to kill each other for what seems like forever. I guess even they took the 216 seriously." Dutch paused for a moment. "You're not worried about them, are you?"
"Initially, I thought they might be a problem, I'll admit. But they don't seem to be causing any trouble. As long as it stays that way, what they get up to otherwise doesn't concern me."
For the first time since she sat down, Balalaika took a drink of the scotch. She immediately pulled a face, but she had a strong stomach when it came to alcohol and she swallowed it right down.
"Not a fan, I take it?" Dutch teased. If he wasn't sleep deprived, he could have sworn she almost looked embarrassed.
"It's an excellent scotch, I'm sure," she said politely. "If a bit earthy for my tastes."
"'Earthy', huh? I don't think we've got any vodka lying around. If we did, I'd offer you that instead."
"Don't be silly, Dutch. I'm your guest, after all. It would not do to seem ungrateful."
"Anything particular on your mind?" he asked her. "Or were you just itching to critique my taste in booze?" Balalaika stifled a laugh.
"Nothing urgent," she assured him, setting his mind at ease. Aside from what she had already told him about Alejandro, he was relieved to hear there wasn't anything amiss. "To tell you the truth, it was shaping up to be a restless night. It seems you found yourself in a similar situation." Dutch's eyes went to the papers he had been going over earlier. Now, they were crumpled under the bottle of Ardbeg.
"Yeah. Something like that. Thought the booze might set my mind at ease but I think it's had the opposite effect."
"Old memories troubling you, Dutch?" Balalaika asked. It was likely a joke, but she didn't realise how close she was to the truth.
"In our line of work, Miss Balalaika, the past is better left where it is." She looked into the glass in her hand for moment, a melancholy look on her face, and then she took another generous gulp of the scotch.
"Indeed. But sometimes, your mind gets the better of you. There's no shame in that." Dutch assumed she was speaking strictly about his own situation, but he was quick to shift the focus back onto her. He had spent enough time recollecting about the unpleasant events of his past without her bringing them to the forefront of the conversation. That, and she seemed as though her own mind had not been kind to her as of late.
"I didn't think 'shame' was in your vocabulary." She placed her hand over her heart and feigned offense.
"Positively ruthless. Nevertheless, you're right. It's not shame I'm worried about. But there has been a lot to think recently. It's times like this when you realise just how old you really are. You know how many years I've been doing this, Dutch?"
"I wouldn't want to hazard a guess," Dutch teased. She laughed.
"I don't blame you. It seems like a century ago when you came along and fetched me out of the ocean that night."
"Now I'm starting to feel old."
"Since then…well, I've put more men in the ground than years I've been alive. Can you believe that? It's hard to imagine a time before all of that."
Sensing the topic of conversation had turned somewhat serious, Dutch took another drink and his own mind inevitably went back to everything he had seen since coming to this city. From the day he brought the boat into the Gulf of Thailand and spotted the Buddha statue, to the first time he met Revy, all the way up to the trip up the Mekong to ferry the Grey Fox team away from the city. After that, it seemed like the city's ability to attract dangerous killers and the mentally unhinged went into overdrive and there had been endless bloodshed. Dutch had mastered the ability to exist in this world a long time ago and it took a hell of a lot to make him crack, but he had to admit that Balalaika was right. They were getting old and there was only so much any one person could take, seasoned or not.
"You can't plan for that stuff," he said in an attempt to assuage any feelings of guilt or pain Balalaika may have been feeling. "You do what you gotta do to survive. What happens after that…there ain't no use worrying about it. 'Life begins on the other side of despair', that's how Jean-Paul Sartre put it." Balalaika smirked and lifted the glass off of the table.
"Wise as always, Dutch. Can't say I ever took you for a Sartre fan, though."
"That's because I'm not one. Guess he's rubbed off on me over the years."
"That sounds like Rock's influence. Speaking of, I owe it to him for getting us out of yet another tight spot. Thank him for me when you see him, won't you?"
"Sure thing. I'd tell you to do it yourself, but he doesn't stop by much these days."
"So I've heard," Balalaika said, a touch of disappointment in her voice. "Chang seems to believe he no longer wishes to exercise his unique talents but that didn't stop him from plotting to stop Task Force 216."
Dutch didn't know the exact details of what had gone down before their conflict with Jones, only that Rock and Chang had apparently met and discussed the details of some plan they hoped to put in motion, a plan that Rock was the mastermind of. But he did find it strange that Rock, after shutting himself away for so long and neglecting to involve himself in the city's affairs, suddenly came out of the shadows and singlehandedly pacified the Task Force that had been so troublesome up to that point. It was like one thing after another with the Japanese man. That, too, probably contributed to how much Dutch was recalling old memories.
"I'll just be happy if he keeps his nose out of everyone else's business for once," he admitted, placing the surface of the glass to his forehead to cool himself. "Feels like we had it good for a time. If he's up to his old tricks…shiiiit, I don't even want to think about it." Balalaika couldn't help but find it amusing how nervous Dutch had become all of a sudden. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or if everything that had come to pass in the city since she had been here was getting to her, but she found herself not caring too much and approaching the conversation with what could almost be described as giddiness.
"Don't fret so much, you'll end up an old man before you hit fifty."
"I think it's too late for that." She could certainly agree there. She lifted the glass into the air and invited him to cheers with her.
"I appreciate you letting me come over, Dutch. I was starting to forget what it was like to kick your feet up and relax."
"Anytime," Dutch answered, raising his glass to meet hers. "To getting old, Miss Balalaika?"
"And acting young," she added roguishly. "For as long as we can get away with it."