- Chapter Ninety-Nine-

Soylent Ultra Green (Is Better People)

Establishment almost archaically lit and draped in dark colors imitating the hazy jazz scene of a bygone era, the district was too refined for riff-raff that made below a certain mark in a single year, as well as anyone under the legal drinking age. Engrossed in the trade losses, the most distracting patron was an older woman muttering angrily at her paper. Table one of two sharing a wide window, she seemed not to notice the odd stares thrown her direction. Open archway to the kitchen tucked away behind a silk screen, the ambient circus of waitstaff filled the empty spaces, deft hands transferring dirty plates and fresh orders to at least a half-dozen other customers. Shy of center stage, a live pianist was playing a dreamy piece perfect for crowded lobbies.

Sable frames drinking in the low lights scattered along the length of the table, Bai stared ahead with as much grace and poise as ever. The smooth playing reminded her of her ingrate of a daughter; Daniella had hated almost every minute of it, but the woman had insisted that she learn. In the end, the young woman was... merely adequate.

Lowering the despondent thoughts into her glass, the woman held off taking another drink. Surveying the room with a clear head, it was imperative that she meet the eye of each and every one of her guests once more during the course of the meal. The collective of businessmen seated at each candle were served a crystal stem filled with a thousand yuan, and a simple ice water as an alternative. Most had already cleaned their plates, though there was an older man at the end of the table that was taking his time.

"Bai?" Lower than a murmur, her companion's voice was little more than a tickle in her ear. It wasn't loud enough to stir the ruby tassels dangling at either side of her chin, let alone to alert the others. His worry, on the other hand, spoke volumes.

Reaching across the gap between their seats, her jeweled talons grazed his thigh in warning. Her own meal had been light, Yahui's finished just as quickly while they spun sweet silver webs to ensnare the juicy flies. Prepared well in advanced, the twosome had made reservations at the city's most prestigious restaurant for business, not cuisine.

Although, it would be lying to say that a small part of the woman hadn't missed this. The food, the fear.

Naturally the shark kept under the Adler family's employ had earned something of an international reputation, one that opened all the right doors and all but guaranteed her heart's desire. Working hard for that image, for years the best part of her day had been lunch: all the underwhelming nieces and nephews playing cooks, floozies dressed as waitresses, and uppity managers she had seen fired was nothing short of delicious! Alas, that was only due to Rafe and his family.

Exchanging a well-timed glance with her childhood associate, Yahui nodded in reply. For however good the menu was, this was going to be better. For him, it was an extra bonus to see that familiar old gleam in her eyes.

"Gentlemen, I trust everything has been to your liking?" Taking point, Bai had been in command too long to let anyone else speak for her now. Impeccably dressed, paid to be one step ahead of the game, and a decent conversational companion both in and out of the sheets, there was no shame in admitting that Yahui made for good window-dressing. Scratching that dangerous side of truth for a change, he was better than a mere ornament... just not at the moment.

There was a murmur of consent from the crowd - apart from that one stubborn old man that was only just finishing up. Immensely opposed to letting his food go to waste, he only set his lacquered utensils down once the entire dish had been picked clean. Waiting on his antics with more patience than Rafe had ever displayed, Bai kept the mask on despite her growing annoyance.

Dish barely touching the table before he opened his mouth, the old man gingerly patted his mouth with his paisley handcloth. "The chef has my compliments, and the hostess has sufficiently done her job."

"Thank you-"

"I wasn't speaking to you." Cutting across Bai with callus disregard, the old man knew precisely who she was, and he frankly did not care. Once upon a time her name had meant something, and yet almost as soon as she had began to carve out her own place at the table, the bespectacled beauty had seemingly vanished without a trace. Wen Bai had been gone for too long, using the name of another to cow her opposition. If he was to take her seriously now, the woman would have to give him a reason to listen.

Dissent rippled through the crowd then, a following murmur of uncertainty chasing the question of why they should humor the absent daughter of their boss. Wen Zhihao had more than earned their respect, and his man Yahui had done the same. Most had been sweettalked into making this meeting by hearing his name alone, but a single whisper of doubt was enough to make them all second-guess the decision to hear out this upstart. She had been gone too long (the only credit to be given was the fact that she sounded as if she never left home).

Yahui looked as if he were about to say something on her behalf, however the woman silenced him with a withering look. Turning her piercing stare away from the head of the Pan family, the cutting steel of a thousand silver daggers shot through the hearts of the fairweathered and faint-hearted. Pecking order leaving a certain old man for last, the dragon head's daughter saw the nearly-blinded pearls for the first time since she had greeted her guests. Savoring the moment ever since they had been seated - their comfort ensured out the gate - she could hide the smug smirk tugging at the corners of her mirth no longer.

Accustomed to the struggle for power, Bai had expected this. Lacing her fingers together, the tiger emblem of their organization was given flesh.

"You didn't let me finish. The least you could have done was pay me that much respect. But no." Shaking her hair just enough to make the tight bun pulling her scalp back wobble beneath the weight of its garnet pin, she continued with the slightest hint of a purr, the Mandarin dropped in favor of saying this one thing in English. "You had to go and die on me first."

Spared no time to look around the table in panic and confusion, the old man felt his chest seize up. Blood pumping louder by the minute in his ears, all he could do was clutch at his breast as his eyes flickered between the similarly shocked stares of his long-time cohorts. Spit drying up into dust that only made it that much more difficult to breath, the shooting pain started as a strange but instantaneous reminder that there was indeed a heart beating beneath his suit. Then...

Falling face-down into the plate he had so meticulously cleaned, the last thing the old man heard was the woman. The demon. The Tigress.

Laughing to Yahui as if the later had told an amusing anecdote, the bespectacled beauty swirled the wine in her crystal glass before taking a sip. "Pity they trusted you, knowing that I'm back. They would have been wiser to listen to their instincts..." Mulling over a second sip, the businesswoman set the glass back down on the table, shaking her head at her partner. "They never would have made it in my line of work."

Aware that he was not as immune to sharing their fate as he would have liked, the sole survivor was still of the opinion that they should have approached this entire lunch a different way. Speaking freely in the confines of a very small room, he had hoped to convince the woman that at least one or two of them could have added their voices to the motion they hoped to spread, but somehow, the night had gone very differently. Tangled up in the details, it had been him that had been convinced that they couldn't be sure that this particular lot would be swayed. By reputation, most of these men would have died rather than betray the boss, and that was a cold hard fact. But had all of them really needed to die?

Mindful of the few good-will bites they had shared off the secondary menu, he watched the woman basking gleefully in this moment. Holding up his favored beverage of choice, it was through a scarlet lens. "Who could, if they had you as an opponent?"

[You're Wasted On Old News]

Saturday morning cartoons the place for animated snot bubbles, instead of zany chases between roadrunners and coyotes or cats and anything they ate, Sam was stuck watching Jian snoring. Wishing he had some of that boxed dynamite and any length of fuse, the thief glared at the putrid parasite as he shifted on the bench. Moved by the bigger of his two goons, the captain had been using it as a kind of extra storage (mostly so she could snack while steering), but at the brat's command it had been hulled out into the open.

Apparently less bothered by the salty spray and more by his own personal demons, Ryan turned his back to the rising sun and curled deeper into himself. Or perhaps it was the creeping chill hat sent the shiver down his cowardly spine. Little shit better be counting his blessings that he was allowed to keep breathing, Sam thought to himself with a quick glance at the would-be gangster's henchmen.

Equally close to nodding off at that time, the thin one that looked more like a misplaced Muppet than a credible threat was on the deck with his eyes glued to his phone. No game could have been that good, and yet he was married to it with pure devotion. As for the other one, he was just as alert and observant as the adventurer despite it being hours since they had departed. Arms crossed for the last hour straight, the living statue could have made great bank as a bouncer in another life.

Instead he was here in the middle of the Mediterranean, chasing after the daughter of a couple of unhinged psychos, tied to a pimple like Ryan...?

Curiosity getting the better of him - well, that, and literally having nothing better to do to kill time - Sam approached the guy slowly. He remembered the damage the hired thug could do, so it didn't make any sense to go needlessly scaring the giant. "Luco, right?"

"Ludo." Arching his brow at the older man even as his mouth fell at the corner, Ludoviko had wondered when this moment would come. Everyone always wanted to ask him something trivial, something utterly pointless, and by his count it was a new day. Why not humor the crook? "What do you want?"

Not quite able to pick up the man's accent, he wracked his brain to place it. Giving himself a little more to work with, the grizzled brunette thought of asking for a smoke, but somehow he wasn't really feeling it. "Right, right. That short for anything, or...?" Maybe it was cheating to get that sort of help, but it wasn't like every name was region-locked. Banking on this to point him in the right direction, Sam played his interest close to the vest.

Considering where this was going, the younger of the two men saw no harm in such a inconsequential detail. Besides, due to his continued proximity to the heiress, it was only a matter of time before Sam Drake had no secrets left. What did it hurt to give the old man this one consolation prize? Relaxing his posture but not completely lowering his arms, Ludo launched into an explanation that wasn't entirely asked for, "Ludoviko. It's Esperanto."

No quizzical expression or pretended knowledge of what that meant? No insistence that he was making things up? Or more annoying still, inflated denial promising that he was the one that was wrong?

Mildly unsurprised that the conman was aware of what that meant, it made sense that someone so well-traveled would have at least a small grasp on local languages (especially one that was a common construct in Europe). After all, blending always made the job easier. Dipping his head in appreciation, Ludo resumed when he wasn't questioned for a vocabulary lesson. It was a truly nice change of pace. "You really do your homework."

"I know my way around." Pride swelling, Sam had been about to boast on the treasures had found, until he realized how that could have sounded. It wouldn't have been incorrect of the kitties to assume that that also meant living bodies as well, however it probably wasn't the best idea to brag about that while they were in the midst of a battle over one particular girl. Most mercs were only there for the money, but these guys weren't mercenaries, and anyways, they were slightly higher up the chain of command. It could have been that they felt some kind of claim on Dells too, in the sense that she would have been their boss. Boss's wife. Whatever, it was a shitty thought either way he looked at it.

"I'll bet." Again, their research department had done their homework on Drake, so there was no mystery as to how the affair was going to end. Only when.

Somewhat more protective of the honorable bride-to-be than anyone else seemed to be, Ludo figured it was because she was also bi-racial. Proud of his Italian heritage despite Mamma returning home to Trieste before he could walk, it sometimes felt like he wasn't allowed to bring it up, like he was telling tales for attention. Growing up in various parts of Portugal with Papai, Ludo had enlisted in the Forças Armadas when he died and his new family wouldn't claim the bastard son.

Drifting like a plastic bag lost in the wind, Ludo knew looking back that he had been a major brat. He also knew that if it weren't for Jian finding him at his lowest, he wouldn't be on this boat now. He wouldn't be anywhere. "Let us hope she makes the right decision."

Prepared to bet that the big ugly lug had his own reasons for swearing his loyalty to a total git, Sam simply shrugged.

Fucked, fired, and failing to keep her safe like he had promised to do, Sam had given Dells every reason he could to leave; the last time they had seen one another should have been an honest indication of the bigger picture, of what she would be in for if she stayed. Old and set in his ways, the explorer knew that he wasn't about to change, not in any substantial way. But at least with him, she would know what freedom felt like. Girl could tell him to go fuck himself and take off on her own, or she could stick around for a while. Maybe he could even teach her a thing or two, if she wanted.

What could Ryan give her? Fear? Another bruise to add to the collection? A secret affair behind closed doors? What good was playing into her family's hands when it would kill her? Maybe it would have been a slow death, each concession on her part taking away more and more over the years until she couldn't give any more and gave out from trying. Maybe she would have said the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time, and it would be relatively quick if only to prove some kind of point. He definitely wouldn't put it passed Bai, so Christ only knew what a distant grandfather might have done under pressure.

Picking tradition might have looked a more stable choice on the surface, however that girl... she wasn't cut from that cloth. No matter how hard she might try to dress herself like silk, that young woman was rope, made for climbing. Putting his faith in that, even if the silvered pickpocket couldn't puzzle out what she was thinking half the time, he could count on Daniella to be more than the sheltered princess.

Baby girl wasn't going to make it easy, whatever she did decide. "She learned from the best there is. I have faith Dells won't disappoint."

Loyalty never a question, Ludo firmly believed that if anyone could convince the honorable bride-to-be of what the optimal route was, it was going to be Jian. Having said that, the data couldn't deny that Sam Drake - or perhaps just older men in general - didn't have her number. It remained to be seen if the heiress was the kind of woman that would follow her head or her heart. Well, maybe 'heart' wasn't quite the word for the body part she would be following...

Agreeing to disagree, Ludo clicked his tongue dismissively. Appointment over, the muscle looked pointedly over at his fellow punching bag. He wasn't even remotely shocked that Zanny had crashed. "I need to sort that idiot before he goes overboard." Or worse, lost his phone.

Lamenting the wasted effort almost as much as he resented the answers just being delivered on that proverbial silver platter, the thief couldn't honestly say that he was going to miss the big guy. In comparison to the other Tigers, sure, Ludoviko was the least terrible, but could that even mean something when the competition was Ryan and some sorry jackhole that hadn't even made a dent? Sparing a long enough breath to watch the stringbean getting lectured into heading for the bunks below deck, Sam continued on his own merry way.

Going from one tragically lost cause to another, the tired wanderer made it all of maybe four steps away from Ludo before he walked into the captain. Direct collision prevented only because of a last minute calculation, the collateral came down to shoulders and elbow. For someone that was almost mowed down, Drea sure didn't seem to mind (provided that the look on her face was anything to go by).

Far too chipper for being awake this early in the morning - or was it late in the day? - Sam could hardly believe she was for real. It really didn't help matters that her frizzled blonde curls betrayed their darker roots, that her eyes were lively sparks just waiting to burst into an inferno. Except, Dells had a doe-eyed innocence, the color hinting of low blue flames captured in a glacial storm, the icy shell beginning to thaw in the night. Drea was evergreen, a dewy mountain morning that had been tainted by a jaded heart.

If he wasn't careful, it might have been easy to mistake one for the other...

"Careful there." While there was a spare bed waiting beneath her tone, it was her eyes that asked if he wanted to climb in. "We almost took quite the tumble."

Or not. Dells could never have opened that boldly.

Already proving that he was susceptible to a certain type, the man's silver-gray bristles could have only benefited from space after that rather lovely conversation with the tiger cub. Contemplating how pointless it was to snap at the woman by telling her to get back to steering through the lull, the thief reasoned that it wasn't worth it. And he didn't technically know what she was going to say next. For all he knew, she could have been a kindred spirit. A pathological flirt that only half meant it.

Really it didn't matter. Not now.

Eventful certainly one word for it, after the last couple of weeks, Sam was getting tired. On occasion he had admitted that the landings were getting harder, that everything was getting more and more taxing on his body. All the same, he never would have dreamed that he was getting to point where he felt his age. Time was one problem no one could outrun, but somehow, between babysitting and letting that girl in, it had caught up at long last. Might be he really did have to ask her to think about sticking around - the rest of the world's lost treasures weren't going to find themselves.

"Not interested." He raised his hand to end it there, to signify that he was finished with the topic.

While not immune to rejection (who was in this life?), Drea immediately rationalized an excuse to cushion the blow to her ego. Playing as if it were no sweat off her back, the captain forced a smile that was a hair more than congenial, "I get it. It's been a long day."

Money changing hands while the cliff notes were flung out like grenades on a minefield, the Tigers told their ride enough to stress that this matter was urgent, that there would be a hefty bonus in store if they found her services to be above satisfactory. Openly hostile to his fellow passengers, the elder gentlemen was a mystery as to how precisely he fit into the picture, and that intrigued her. Bored by the endless scuba tours, anything that went against the grain was enough to warrant a second look. And she liked what she saw.

Braving that second swing for the fences, she put herself out there with brazen abandon. "Kid told me that you're all here to save the damsel in distress. Maybe I misjudged who the real hero was." Sizing up all six feet of the adventurer with obvious interest, she mimicked his surrender with minimal patronizing, "Either way, when you're done playing games with these children, maybe you'll wake up enough to ask yourself what a real women is capable of."

Before he could say anything one way or the other, she slipped a card into his front pocket, presumably with her name and number scribbled across it.

Author's Note:

Wow, that Bai section really just flowed out! The edit too. The Sam one took me a little longer to find, but thankfully I had the outline for ages. Concerning the Bai section, hopefully I did alright saying that they only held the distance against Bai, not that she was a woman or any such. I imagine they already had that fight with her, long before she ever left. Drea knows what she wants, but unlike a certain heiress, she won't lose any sleep over Sam not immediately jumping into the sack with her.

As for the title, I wanted to go with "Soylent Super Green", 'cuz of the Fifth Element, but I thought "Soylent Ultra Green" sounded cooler. What do y'all think?