Rock made his voice sound low and gravelly when he called in the pizza order to their favorite place. He would make the pick up as a beggar. If he could successfully do so without being recognized it would further prove the effectiveness of this cover. Relevant data for STG, and for himself. As they drove to pick it up he filled Revy in on what he'd learned. Chang had indeed been backed by the CIA prior to the last War. Now, he and Rock were working together to deduce if they were trying to get them both killed now.

Revy whistled, apparently impressed.

"Wheeeeeew. That's some high level shit, Rock baby. You're moving up in the world," she said. "Hey, if it is them, what's your plan?"

"I don't have one," Rock admitted. "Obviously simply killing them all is out of the question, and I have no idea why they even would target me, so trying to negotiate will be almost impossible."

Revy nodded. "Here's a thought: ditch. You got the money? Take it and run. Go to Nigeria or some shit. A few hundred grand there will set you up for life."

Rock grimaced. "The sad truth is, if I'm on a list for the CIA I doubt even Nigeria would be far enough."

"Russia then," Revy pressed. "Sis might help you get set up. Even Uncle Sam can't fuck you there."

As they pulled up to a red light Revy started lighting a cigarette. Rock weighed her idea for a moment, then turned to her.

"Would you come with me if I did?"

"Nope," she answered, her precious tobacco product dangling from her lips. "Fuck the snow. Besides, I got a job here."

Rock threw up his hands with a sarcastic flourish. "Well, in that case, I'll just have to stay."

Revy looked at him darkly.

"You're a moron," she said. "You think a bullet cares about all your sentimental bullshit?"

Rock met her angry gaze momentarily, then looked out the window. Chang's high-rise tower was just barely visible in the distance between two other buildings.

"I've been living with death since I got to this city," he said. "Bullets… fire… knives… even a chainsaw. You remember how I first came here? You almost shot me before I even got off the boat. When I heard my boss's voice I thought I might be safe. And then he told me to just go off and die. I only survived because of you, Dutch, and Benny. But now?" He looked out the windshield and took a deep breath. "I've grown up, Revy. I have a business. I have a home. I've got friends, and…" he smirked and looked at her, "a girlfriend I'm head over heels for."

Revy couldn't help a small smile spread across her lips. She turned her face towards her window so he wouldn't see.

"Who says I'm your girlfriend?"

"Do you want to be?" he asked.

Revy couldn't face him. Her smile fell as her mind once again failed to create an answer her mouth could articulate. Rock looked forward, out the windshield, and spoke again.

"There are several reasons I won't leave. But really it's that I've built too much here to just walk away. I've got friends and employees who rely on me. I'm not just a crewman anymore, I'm a leader. But the single biggest thing I've got here is you. So if you're not coming with me, I'm not going."

"You're a moron," she repeated without malice.

He shrugged. "I'm in love. People like me aren't known for being brilliant. Then again, maybe that's one reason the human race has survived for this long."

Revy didn't know what to say to that, so they passed the next few blocks in silence. When they were two blocks from the restaurant Rock asked her to pull over. He pulled on his wig and hat, and got out to get their food. No one would buy his beggar act if they saw him step out of an SUV.

Revy watched him limp away towards the restaurant with unusually soft eyes.

"Asshole," she whispered to his back.

The pickup went off without a hitch, though was far less pleasant than Rock would have liked. It seemed the cashier resented the sight of a beggar in his store. So, while Rock in his normal clothes would have been greeted warmly, his current getup earned him nothing but a sneer. The interaction was made all the less enjoyable when Rock had to fumble with his wallet for a few moments to get his money. He'd begun carrying the bullet Revy had given him there as a good luck charm. It almost fell out several times. Rock wondered if he might run a chain through it and wear it around his neck, then realized it would clash with his disguise. No beggar could afford jewelry, or would be able to keep it for long in this city. He kept his head down as he squeezed out the front door carrying the pizza. The bell overhead tinkled as he passed. "It really stinks," he thought to himself. "To be poor in this town."

He waddled back to Revy and the SUV with the pizza in one hand and his walking stick in the other. His side had started to hurt again by the time he got back. As he neared the car he saw Revy hang up her phone through the windshield.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said.

Revy nodded jerkily, "All good. Any trouble?"

"No. Just have to take my meds when we get home."

"Cool."

She started the engine and they drove back to the apartment. Rock waited until his side stopped hurting then attempted to engage Revy in conversation. He tried a couple of times, but received only one word or short answer replies. She seemed distracted by something.

"Are you ok?" he asked after a few tries.

"Yeah." she answered, smiling though not very convincingly. "I'm good. Just thinking about everything that's been going on lately."

Rock nodded.

"It's been stressful these past few days," he agreed. "How about, when this is all done, I take you somewhere?"

Revy blinked and started.

"W-where?"

"I don't know. China? Wanna see the Great Wall?"

Revy slumped a little in her seat, disappointment showing on her face.

"A big load of old rocks. Fuck that."

Rock couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay. How about Hawaii?"

Revy's face seemed to relax. Her eyes took on a faraway expression.

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe."

Rock plopped the pizza on the kitchen table when they got back to the apartment and took another dose of his meds. Revy glanced at his computer for a split second, then went for the Bacardi. After a couple slices, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry about our conversation before, about your past."

Revy waved him off.

"It's cool. No harm, no foul."

Rock leaned forward and Revy realized with a sinking feeling that he felt the need to explain himself.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to learn more."

Revy fixed him with an impatient glare. "Chill," she ordered. "If I had a problem, I'da said so. I was bored, so I talked about shit I ain't talked about for awhile. That's all."

Rock nodded and leaned forward.

"I've just got one more question, and then I promise I'll drop this."

Revy eyed him suspiciously.

"Do you still want to know what happened to your mother?"

Revy considered this question for a moment. After she got over her initial annoyance her eyes flitted down and to her left. Dad had never given her any information regarding her Mom, and got violent whenever she asked. She'd hardly ever thought about it after that. She had no other sources of information and bigger shit to worry about. Still, she supposed there wasn't any harm.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Whatever."

Rock smiled and nodded.

"Alright. I'll see what I can dig up."

"Cool."

Rock could tell she wasn't eager to pursue this line of conversation. He cast his mind around for another.

"Hey, have you given any thought to Dutch's offer?"

Revy paused for a minute. Then nodded.

"Yep… I think I'm in."

Rock beamed at her even as he felt his stomach sink.

"Good for you!" he exclaimed. "I can see it now. Rebecca Li. Terror of the South China Sea. You're going to be a full blown pirate queen."

Revy grinned back.

"You better fuckin' believe it, baby! I'll bring in numbers Dutch couldn't dream of. I'll sleep on a bed made of money every night, just cuz I can!"

Her happiness helped Rock forget the feeling in his stomach. He raised his glass.

"To Captain Li!" he exclaimed.

Revy clinked her glass to his and they both downed their shots.

"So, you're cool with this, huh?" she pointed at him with the index finger of that hand that still held her glass. "Can't be goin' off to so many fairs or islands and shit if I got a ship to run."

Rock smiled and nodded.

"I've said it before, I'll say it again. I just want you to be happy. That's it."

Revy smiled at him then. It was a smile that conveyed a deep appreciation and connection. The first time Rock had seen it was when they had visited the fair in Japan. They'd been discussing Rock's new life with the Lagoon crew. Rock had said that his being with her proved he wasn't entirely good, even though at that point he hadn't had to kill or steal or been arrested yet. She'd responded with that smile, and he'd been taken by the sight. He instantly decided that that smile was worth any price.

The rest of the afternoon was spent well. They laughed and joked about various things while the pizza slowly disappeared. After they finished Revy excused herself and left the dishes to Rock. He had to deal with both their dishes of that night and those that had accumulated over the past couple of days. He was vaguely annoyed. He was still recovering after all. But when the last plate and glass clattered into the drying rack he turned to the doorway to their bedroom and felt his jaw drop.

Revy stood there in a set of lingerie he had never seen her in before. Thigh high stockings, lacy and black panties paired with a bra that looked about two sizes too small.

Holy shit, was she wearing makeup?!

Dark eye shadow ringed her amber eyes and her lips were a violent red. Her hair was back in its usual ponytail, but was tied with a large red ribbon rather than her usual tiny band. She was leaning on the doorframe by her elbow, her palm pressed into her temple.

"So, Rock baby," she cooed from the doorway. Her left hand snaked up her body, between her breasts, and finally placed one of her fingernails between her two front teeth. "Think you can keep up with the pirate queen?"

She turned, and her gyrating hips beckoned him back to their bedroom. As he followed her, a truly enticing smell hit his nostrils.

Perfume.

His mind couldn't work well enough to guess the name of the fragrance. All he knew was that he wanted as much of it as he could get.

It was a bout of passion on a level Rock had never experienced. Usually, he nearly put her into a coma after one round. This time though, she seemed determined to take the lead. Once, twice, three times, four times. Every time he rolled onto his back, certain that it was over, Revy climbed on top of him and kissed him until he was ready to go again. Finally, Rock rolled onto his back the fourth time, smiling and panting, and felt the sweet, warm darkness of sleep overcome his conscious thought.

Revy took a few minutes to catch her breath. God damn but he was good. When enough of the neurons in her brain flickered back into life she cracked an eye to look at him. It was dark, but he seemed to be sleeping soundly. She silently rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows.

Yup, definitely out. Holy shit. He was cute when he slept. She indulged her desire to stare at him for a while. His chest was rising and falling gently in time with his breath. Finally, the memory of her earlier call dragged her out of her trance.

She slowly pushed herself out of bed. Silently, she dressed and made her way out the doorway and into their living room. She took the seat in front of Rock's computer and turned it on. The flash of white temporarily blinded her. She covered her eyes with her forearm and swore under her breath as her pupils slowly adjusted. She clicked through the various opening screens until she got to his email. She'd been lucky he hadn't wanted to check it as soon as they got home, and that he trusted her, of all people, with one of his passwords.

As soon as she opened the first unread mail she found what she was looking for. It was just as the artifically modulated voice on the phone had warned. She felt the floor of her not unpleasant life give way into the long drop into hell, where she would surely be going if there was such a place.

The email contained a single picture. A man in a dirty white wife-beater and grey pyjama pants splayed on his back across a bed with a pillow over his face. The pillow was ripped open and its feathers were everywhere. However, a dark pool of red blood in its center contrasted sharply with the white. Porn magazines, beer bottles, and bent cigarette butts were scattered all around his dirty mattress. Revy hadn't been present when the shot was taken, but she recognized the scene immediately. She should. When she'd blown her father's brains out the back of his head she'd been sure to stuff the pillow over his face first, so she wouldn't have to look at him as he died.

The horror of the scene before her forced her eyes downward. She had seen plenty of death before, but this one hit in a different way. She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white and her nails threatened to bloody her palms. She gritted her teeth in a combination of terror, rage, and guilt. So, the voice on the phone hadn't been bluffing. Whoever had called her while Rock got their food both knew she was a patricide and had proof to back it up. They'd already sent this picture to Rock's email, and they could call him at any time. If she wanted this particular piece of her past to remain hidden, the voice had already told her what she needed to do.

Revy whipped her head around to face the hallway. No sign of Rock. He must be still asleep. She deleted the email, made sure there were no others like it in his inbox, and tiptoed back to their room. She cracked the door open as quietly as she could to peek at him. Still fast asleep. Holy fuck but he was adorable.

Something tugged at her from the inside. Unable to resist, she crept back into their room and knelt by his bedside.

He was lying on his back right where she'd left him. His mouth was slightly open. His chest was rising and falling gently in time with his breathing. His black hair had been messed up from their latest tryst and she could smell the last traces of her perfume wafting up from him. He'd slid one of his hands under his pillow, the other lay by his side.

Holy fuck he was cute.

The contrast between the scene in the email and the one in front of her now could not have been more stark. The scene she was being threatened with was one of hatred, anger, fear, and noise. Terrible noise. Screaming, yelling, crashing, and finally the single popping gunshot that brought quiet. Rock's noises were different. Calm, kind, whispered words with his arms tied around her. The clatter of dishes being done. The ding of a cooking timer and the smell of whatever meal he had made fresh off of the stove. Her father's memory meant harshness and violence. Rock meant softness and kindness and all the wonderful things that Revy longed to squeeze out of him and keep for herself, alone.

She kissed him on the cheek as lightly as she could and drew back when he snored in response. After a few seconds he smiled.

Was he dreaming about her?

Holy fuck… he was unbearably cute.

She allowed herself an extra moment to enjoy the sight of him asleep, then stood up and crossed back out to the hallway. She shut the door quietly behind her and made her way to the front door. She pulled on her boots, the last of her outfit, as well as her holsters and guns. Then she stood up.

She looked around one last time at the best home she'd even known. The home she'd shared with him. Used to be she believed the world had ended years ago and some sicko deity had just forgotten to tell the rest of them it was over. After a year of living here, with him, she didn't know what she believed anymore, just that she didn't want it to end.

She looked back one more time towards their bedroom, but knew that if she went back there again there was an excellent chance she couldn't make herself leave, and she might wake him up. And he deserved to sleep. He deserved so much that she couldn't give. A long and happy life? She could stop breathing tomorrow for all she knew. She was a gun-for-hire. Even after a year of living together there were some things about her that he would never understand. And some things about her that he should never, ever find out.

She turned out the door and into the night

The doors of the Ripoff Church creaked open with what Chang found to be an obnoxious amount of noise. It had been several hours since his meeting with Rock and he'd managed to get in touch with his old contact. It was odd. After his conversation with Rock he suspected that the modulated voice on the other end of the line was Eda, but their manner of speaking was so different he couldn't tell. After an initial rundown of his request, "Mr. CIA," had insisted on conducting a full briefing in the confessional of the Church that same night. Chang knew that meant whatever they had to say was both massively important and highly confidential, or else an invitation to an assassination attempt. Still, he couldn't have refused without blowing the game, so he followed Rock's suggestion and advised the voice that he'd be bringing his convoy of guards as an extra precaution.

"Whatever makes you feel safer, Mr. Chang," the artificially deep voice on the other end of the line replied.

Chang clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. He promised himself on the spot that if it was Eda pulling the strings he'd put so many bullets into her she'd be magnetic by the time he was done.

He had changed back into his usual formal attire before coming, with the addition of a wide-brimmed fedora hat to conceal the small bit of plastic in his right ear. He had tested it back at his office and it had both worked and played back like a charm. Now, it was time for the real deal.

He stepped over the threshold and strode towards the confessional. He had never liked these briefings. They had always seemed like a power play. To force him, in his city, to meet and speak with them on their terms seemed a deliberate reminder of how insignificant he was.

He loathed them for that.

The apprentice, Rico, greeted him from a pew and directed him towards the confessional. Chang nodded curtly in response. He saw no reason to respond verbally.

He opened the confessional door and stepped inside. The disposable cell phone was resting on the table in front of the only seat. It rang as he sat down. He answered it, being careful not to hit it against his earpiece as he held it to the right side of his head.

"Punctual as ever, Mr. Chang," the modulated voice spoke out of the phone.

"Thanks. Now, let's get right to it. What can you tell me about the recent attacks against me and Okajima?"

"Excellent questions," the voice replied. "I'll start with you first."

Chang held his breath.

"The attack was perpetrated by the branch of the Russian Mafia operating in this city known as Hotel Moscow. Their objective is to eliminate you as an obstacle to their greater plan: seizing control of this city and its incomes from the various gangs who vie for power within it. Really, I'm quite relieved you survived. My organization has found it nearly impossible to work with them."

Chang felt his breath catch in his throat. In less than a minute both his best hopes and worst fears had been realized. First, the story the voice had just given him was completely different from Rock's information. Either they were lying, or Rock was lying, and Chang knew which one he trusted more. Second, they were relaying the same story the Italians had as soon as the first hit on Rock had gone down. Better confirmation that they were working together could not possibly be asked for. On the one hand, Chang was glad that he knew. On the other, it confirmed how high the odds were stacked against them.

"On the subject of Mr. Okajima," the voice continued. "He was targeted by employees of the private military company, E.O. Incorporated. They were hired to eliminate him by his former employer, Asahi Industries. While they wait for deployment orders, their fire teams are posing as dockworkers in warehouse fifty-seven, and as tourists in the Ramsap Inn. We do not know why Asahi Industries has chosen to eliminate him at this time. However, it may be related to his intention to carry out a charity event for sexual assault survivors later this month."

"Sexual assault survivors?" Chang repeated. "How is that relevant?"

"We have limited data on that subject. However, it's possible Romeo was harassed while he was there."

"Who?" Chang asked.

"Mr. Okajima," the voice corrected itself. "That was his nickname while working there."

Chang couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something in the tone of the voice had changed on the last line. He'd have to listen to the tape again later.

"Okay," Chang answered. "Thanks for your help."

He moved to put down the phone.

"I'm not done yet!" the voice called out.

Chang put the phone back to his ear.

"How do you intend to respond?"

Chang bristled.

"I'm not in the habit of discussing Triad plans with you, bureaucrat."

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed.

"Back to that old line are we? I believe I warned you the last time we spoke. Continue to defy my organization, and we may choose to take a more active hand in the running of this city, Mr. Chang."

Chang took a breath.

"Careful now Mr. CIA. Push too far, and the Thai army might get dragged in," Chang responded.

There was a silence on the other end of the line, then the voice erupted into near hysterical laughter.

"The Thai army?!" it responded in a tone loaded with contempt. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that your vaunted sense of humor has diminished with age. If you're under the impression that that truly pitiful excuse of a force could do a thing to stop us, allow me to correct your insufferable stupidity. We could sweep aside them as easily as we could your Triads, and every other pathetic street-gang in this rats-nest you call a 'city.' That is, if any of you actually had the balls to try to challenge us. I suppose Hotel Moscow might be willing to try. It would be fun to watch them fail."

Chang felt his left hand clench into a fist, but he kept the phone steady. This might be exactly what he and Rock needed. Even now, Mr. CIA might be digging his own grave.

"A fair point," he said through gritted teeth. "Then allow me to answer."

He took a deep calming breath.

"We will observe both locations, figure out their weak points, and eliminate them when we get the chance."

"Excellent!" the voice on the other end of the line said in an obvious tone of triumph. "We will be monitoring your progress. You may go."

Chang hung up the phone. He pulled his fedora closer to his right ear before he stood up and left the Church. He couldn't afford to risk the recorder being seen now. The information it contained may well be worth his life, to say nothing of the woman he loved.

Back in his penthouse Chang plugged the recorder into his stereo and hit the playback button. The speaker crackled to life. The sound quality wasn't great, but every word was audible.

"Punctual as ev… "

He stopped the recording, then pulled one of his disposable cell phones out of a drawer in his desk and dialed Rock's number.

Rock's phone rang for a long time. Ten seconds… twenty… thirty… forty. Chang was starting to get annoyed when Rock finally answered. He sounded tired as hell.

"Hello?" he answered groggily.

"Sorry to wake you, mastermind. Just thought you'd like to know we've struck gold."

There was a silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then.

"Excellent! What did they say?" Rock asked eagerly.

"Enough to make us both very happy. I don't want to give specifics just now. However, I do think it's time we called in our blonde Ivan friend."

"When?" Rock asked.

Chang checked his calendar. It had been twenty-four days since Balalaika's last nail appointment. He'd paid good money before the last war to learn that she had her nails done at exactly 7:00 a.m. every twenty-five days. She'd even kept the habit after he'd surprised her there. Maybe she was hoping he'd visit again? No better time to find out.

"Tomorrow. You up for a walk?"

"How far?"

Chang checked a map of Roanapur.

"Eleven blocks," he answered. It was the distance between the border of Hotel Moscow territory and the salon Balalaika frequented.

Rock was quiet for an extra second.

"It might take me awhile," he said apologetically. "My side still isn't great."

Chang waved his hand.

"Not an issue. We'll take a cab. Meet me at the same place we did earlier, seven and a half hours earlier."

"Wait, wha-?" Rock started to ask, then realized what Chang meant. "Oh! Right! Hang on."

Rock quickly did the mental math. 6:30 a.m. at the docks. They were out of crossword puzzles and Chang didn't want to say the time over the phone.

"Got it. I'll see you there and then. Hey, do you know where Revy is?"

Chang pushed up his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Rock," he growled. "Did you piss her off again?"

"No!" Rock exclaimed. "I assure you! It looked like things between us were good this time! But now she's not here and it doesn't look like she left a note."

Chang rolled his eyes.

"Call her and apologize for whatever you did. And apologize again when she gets back. Tomorrow you and I are going to have a serious conversation on what to say and not to say to your girlfriend. And I'm going to let Fry-Face opine on it too. Rock, I almost used to find this kind of crap amusing, but it's becoming a problem. Your job is to make her happy."

Rock gritted his teeth, but decided he valued his relationship with Revy more than his pride.

"I look forward to any feedback or advice you may have," he said.

"Good," Chang answered. "Have a good night."

Rock clicked his phone shut and looked around. He had wandered out into the living room absentmindedly. He hadn't even turned on the lights. The largest room in their home was dimly illuminated by the light from a full moon through the window. Looking towards the door he realized now that Revy's guns and boots were missing.

He looked around for some sign of her, but saw nothing.

Strange…

Muffled pops drifted in through the open window. The sound of a tuk-tuk backfiring on the street below…

Suddenly, the front door crashed open and Rock jumped about a foot. One of his guards barreled into the room with his pistol in firing position. He scanned the room once before slamming the door behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Rock wide eyes set in a too young face. The guard pointed his gun at the door.

"Boss, you need to move!"

Rock felt his heart stop, "Wha-? What happened?"

"First floor took shots right before they cut out. Go! The window! I'll hold them."

Heavy footfalls sounded from outside and Rock realized with a thrill of horror that he didn't have time to argue.

He grabbed his wallet and pistol from where he'd left them on the kitchen table and stuffed them into his pyjama pockets, then he scrambled to the window. If whoever was attacking had extra guards outside he'd be completely exposed. But he couldn't be concerned about that now. Revy was gone and he and his one guard were likely horribly outgunned.

He glanced out the window and saw no one on the street. Apparently the attackers were already inside. Throwing caution to the winds he flipped open a small compartment on the windowsill. Inside was a spool of wire with a hook at one end. Rock grabbed it and tied it around his wrist. When it was secured, he opened the window. A gust of cold wind bit into his face. He wished he was wearing a shirt. Carefully he stepped out onto the ledge. The cold night air tore into his exposed face, neck, and torso. Damn. Was the ground always that far?

He had just managed to lower himself out of sight of the room when he heard an explosion blow open the front door and several heavy pairs of boots storm in. Then, gunshots. Rock almost puked. His one brave defender had probably just died for him. But Rock didn't have time to mourn or feel guilty. Thinking quickly, he stayed still for a moment so they wouldn't notice the window. When he heard them storm deeper into the apartment towards their bedroom he carefully rappelled down the side of the building towards the street. The shouting and shots from the apartment grew slowly fainter as Rock got steadily closer to the ground. His side started to hurt again with about forty feet left to go. By the time he was ten feet from the ground he was in agony.

Finally, his bare feet hit solid surface with a painful amount of force and his knees buckled. He stumbled away from the building and fell over onto the hard pavement. Scrambling to his feet he struggled to move in a direction he knew would take him away from the entrance to the parking garage. The rough concrete felt cold and hard, and his wrist and side were throbbing. He realized now that had left his phone back in the apartment and was only wearing his thin pyjama pants. He felt utterly exposed and alone. When he was a few blocks away from the building he ducked into a dark alley and flattened himself against the wall. He could hear sirens. The police must be responding to the explosion from the apartment. Surely others must have called it in. He was tempted to run out to the street to greet them, but what if they had been bribed by whoever had just attacked? He decided he couldn't risk it.

"Think," he thought to himself furiously. "Think!"

His eyes narrowed in concentration then suddenly went wide. He waited until the sound of the sirens grew dim, then set off in a familiar direction.

Dutch sat at his computer mulling over the same accounting spreadsheet he'd been working on for the past hour. He missed the days when Rock and Benny had handled this crap for him. Maybe he should hire another clerk? He pushed up his sunglasses, which he almost always wore no matter the hour, and rubbed his eyes. The paperwork was as complicated and difficult as it had been an hour ago, and still he was nowhere near done. He'd just decided to treat himself to an extra glass of bourbon and turn in for the night when he suddenly heard a furious, almost desperate knock at the door.

"Dutch!" he heard a familiar voice call from the other side. "Are you there?"

Edit: And another chapter is done! Thank you all for reading. As always, all reviews are welcome either here or on reddit. My reddit username is u/LeroyJ12. Also, a huge thanks to my friend and beta-reader Illicitaction for his invaluable help. Please check out his stories, A Hard Way to Fall and Cat's Game for more excellent Black Lagoon fan content.