Delivery

Chapter 2

It was an odd feeling, and it was one that she really didn't want a repeat of. That woman, the skank with the pant suit, had managed to do something to her. With just a word she put her on her ass, but somehow Rock broke free. He caught her, held her, and she liked that part, but she didn't like feeling helpless. Whatever that bitch was, it wasn't normal. She wasn't like Balalaika, Eda the fake nun, Sawyer the Cleaver, or even that fuckin maid. She didn't look all that strong, but then she didn't have to be.

In the two hours since they came to her apartment they had walked down to a waiting car, a limousine no less, that took them to the port. At the moment she was standing on the bow of the Lagoon, looking at the water, listening to the waves, and wondering what was going to happen. She heard footsteps, and she relaxed. The steps weren't mechanical, and they were his. She breathed normally, glad that he wasn't under whatever influence that bitch had on him earlier.

"You okay?"

She wasn't sure she trusted herself enough to answer, but she owed her partner at least a nod. She gave him that, hoping that he'd understand.

"Something is off about them," he said, "I don't mean the normal kind of off, but they've obviously got means. Why didn't they go to Balalaika to book travel? I know she most likely would have used us anyway, but why search us out?"

Revy looked ahead, "It's off the books, as far off as it can get," she said as calmly as she wished she felt, "Hire someone expendable, and when they're done decide if they're worth keeping around or not."

He stood at an infuriatingly respectful distance. She didn't want the distance. She wanted him close, his arms around her, and for him to tell her that it would be okay. She closed her eyes and silently cursed herself for being weak. Even if he'd tell her that it wasn't weakness for wanting to be comforted she knew the truth. In their line of work it was viewed as a weakness. It was a weakness to want comfort, it was a weakness to be vulnerable, and she couldn't afford that. She was two hands, the most feared hired gun in all of Roanapur.

She had faced everything from chainsaw wielding maniacs and wannabe vampires to entire paramilitary fanaticals. Sure, there were more than a few times she'd gotten her ass handed to her, but she always came out alive. That was the main point. Coming out alive meant that she won. And she did because she was hard as stone. Stone, Rock, damn how he got to her. After a moment she felt a hand, and she didn't flinch. The hand rested on her shoulder, a respectful place, a place where she had control to pull away. Even in a moment when he obviously saw that she needed some peace he treated her with respect. If she could ever get past her shit, get past who she was, then she was going to rock his fuckin' world. She'd fuck him so good, and hard, that he'd never even look at another girl.

She chastised herself again, He wouldn't just fuck her. She firmly believed that he'd take time and make love to her. She believed that in his eyes she was worth the effort. Still, she relished the feeling of his hand on her shoulder. She didn't shrug it off, and she didn't want to. Instead she stood there, letting the sea breeze of the open water wash over her. Their guests were more people like the living geisha doll and the walking pair of breasts. One of which seemed to practically hop everywhere she went, like she was doing a bad imitation of a rabbit.

Oddly enough some of them she knew. One of the newer gangs to move into Roanapur, the Huang Family syndicate, she remembered. They paid pretty well, and tended to move things as quietly as possible. She opened her eyes and looked at the open water before them. They had three days of travel before they made Japan, another four hours, according to their clients, before they reached the spot they specifically wanted them to go to.

They'd been insistent on telling them that the water would look funny, and to just ignore it. That was practically an impossibility, and she knew it. Whatever was different about it could mean the difference between not leaving alive and leaving alive. She didn't want to give anything the chance to get the better of her. Plus there was the fact that she didn't want anything to have the chance to get the better of Rock either. He was her partner, he watched her back, she watched his, and it wouldn't be right if she let them both down by not taking in her surroundings regardless of what the top heavy bitch said.

"Dutch said that we shouldn't expect too much trouble on this trip."

She grinned, "Sure," she replied, "When has what Dutch said and what happened ever really walked hand in hand?"

She turned toward him, and she saw the stoic face he wore so often when they were doing business. She'd seen him smile, a sort of haphazard looking thing that she more or less felt looked right on him. He was decent in an indecent world, his decency didn't waver, it didn't falter, and he carried it humbly. It wasn't a badge of honor that he used to lord over others. It was simply who he was. He was a good man, someone that respected her, someone that treated her like she was more than a hired gun or hot piece of ass. She wanted to claim him, and he was also a distraction.

She could turn other distractions off. Leave them behind, ignore them, and be all the better for it. She couldn't do that to him. But regardless of what she felt there was a wall. It was one she put up when her old man beat her, when his bastard cop friend stole her innocence, and then when her old man blamed her for it. That wall came up to keep everyone out. It came up to keep them all at a distance, and Rock, Rocky-Baby, had found a crack in that wall and tunneled through. He didn't realize it, but he was on the inside. She tried not to show it, but the fact that he could come in, see her in her panties and a loose tank-top should have spoken volumes to him. Hell, the fact that she let him see her nude in the shower should have been an indicator. She wasn't working for Rowan, and she didn't just let anyone have a good long look at her without clothes.

She wasn't above using her sexuality as a weapon. Amatures often made the mistake of thinking with their dicks instead of their heads. If she happened to wear a loose enough tank-top they'd get distracted. But Rock didn't. He treated her with respect, declining her offer out of respect, looking but not obviously envisioning them fuckin like rabbits, and he excused himself to let her finish her shower.

But she couldn't take that step. He was already there, already inside, so why couldn't she take the step that mattered the most? She knew the answer as she looked at the endless blue and green before her. She didn't take the step because there was the chance that he'd tell her no. That he'd say he respected her as a person, as a partner, but he didn't want her as a romantic one. She didn't want to reseal up that hole he'd made. Having the fantasy that he might want her was better than the reality that she was nothing more than what her father had told her. Maybe it was for the best anyway.

If she let her guard down then everything could turn straight to shit. She didn't want to move, she didn't want his hand to move from her shoulder, but she had to. She had to deal with this now. She turned and looked at him. His brown eyes which had seen so much corruption, and somehow they didn't let it taint him. Sure, he'd crawled through the mud, like the rest of them, but it didn't ruin or change him.

"So," she said, "If we make it out of this, and they pay us, got any plans for what to do with your cut?"

He nodded, "A few beers at Yellow Flag, and I'll figure something out with the rest."

She smiled, "Yeah, getting good and shitfaced sounds about right," she said, "How about I let you buy me a drink."

He started to say something when she heard it. The sound was something she'd taken to noticing on water. It was the break of another ship. Something else cutting through the waves that wasn't the Black Lagoon. She looked around, trying to see where and what it was. Her eyes darted until she saw it in the distance. The ship was bigger, fancier, and looked more like a giant yacht than anything else.

Could it be a bunch of rich assholes out enjoying the ocean? Possibly, but she doubted it. This area was primarily ignored because other than illegal fishing there wasn't much in the way of scenery. For a sailor it was fine. The sight of the ocean was welcomed, and it gave them a chance to enjoy it for what it was. But a bunch of rich dipshits that didn't understand the ocean wouldn't be interested in seeing endless miles of water. They tended to go for islands, places where the dolphins jumped from the water, or old wrecked ships.

They wanted to be entertained, so she didn't think it was some tourists attempting to get a look at the ocean. The only other explanation was that it was someone who wanted their cargo. That kind of ship most likely wasn't connected to any of the major players in Roanapur either. Most of them tended to go for fast and maneuverable instead of big, slow, and sticks out like a sore thumb.

The ship was behind them, and she figured that it would take them a while to catch up. But that didn't matter. If they were here, and they wanted the cargo, then there was some shit that they weren't told. She grimaced, looked at Rock, nodded, and then made her way into the boat itself. Getting inside she saw the group. Her eyes moved, searching, and she found the one that she intended to talk to. She moved straight toward her. She pulled her nine, ready this time, and put it under her chin. The woman looked confused, surprised, but not frightened.

"Who the fuck wants all of you, and don't tell me that you don't know," she said harshly, "Because there's a fuckin' yacht out there following us. It's heading toward us like a mad dog, and I don't want to get bit in the ass, so what didn't you fuckin' tell us."

Her voice was a growl, and instantly she had her other gun up and pointing at Tsurara's face.

"Geisha doll, I will paint the wall of this boat with your brains if you take another step."

"The only ones that I can think of are the Miao family," a voice said, "They would be interested in making sure that we don't make our arrival."

She heard steps and breathed as she realized that it was Dutch.

"How much trouble are we looking at?"

There was a giggle, "Oh, possible dismemberment, some disemboweling, perhaps a bit of skinning," she replied, "Unfortunately I can't give you an exact answer since I don't know which members of the Miao family are aboard. My suggestion is to make sure they can't get close to us. If that is impossible then it would be best to have us on your side instead of willing to sit back and let you suffer whatever fate before we defend ourselves."

She heard Dutch curse slightly before he looked toward the advertisement for every bordello ever, "Your handler, Ms. Caro, didn't mention anything about unknown variables."

Revy growled, and she quickly holstered both of the nines. In an instant she felt herself picked up off of the floor and pinned to the wall. The woman, the top heavy bitch she believed wasn't that strong, was handling her like a rag doll. She tried to struggle, but her purple eyes glowed for a moment. She felt sluggish, her body didn't want to react, and then she heard his footsteps. It ended, and she struggled again.

The one holding her rolled her eyes, "Well, that's unfortunate," she said as she held her, "But know that I'm not going to hurt you. I have more self control than that. But the ones on that ship, that yacht, they're not going to, so don't hold a gun and think that it will be enough. They will kill you if they get the chance."

She let her go and Revy coughed, She felt Rock beside her, his back to the woman, and she wanted to curse at him. Instead he checked her over, and then to her surprise he stood.

"My partner's actions weren't uncalled for," he said looking straight at her, "She acted accordingly because of the nature of the business we're currently engaged in. Any information that wasn't given is the same as hiding a weapon to use on us. From this point on we need to be crystal clear with one another. Doing business any other way is not only deceitful, but it's damaging toward the trust and goals of both parties, wouldn't you agree?"