Chapter 2
Rock woke first, as normal. The clock on his bedside table flashed 7:03 a.m. He could safely assume that Revy would be asleep for at least the next two hours, and barring some urgent call from Dutch, in bed for the next three. He got up and made his way to the kitchen, intending to make a fresh pot of coffee. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. It had been his last thought before going to sleep, and it seemed as if his brain had been working on it all night. He had cleared his schedule in order to spend the day with Revy, but figured that she would want at least a little down time in the apartment anyway. Assuming he couldn't finish this to his satisfaction in the next two and a half hours, he felt he could safely count on having at least one more later to add the finishing touches.
Turning on the coffee maker, Rock strode over to the corner of their living room that doubled as his office and turned on his computer. After it booted up, he loaded a word document and began typing.
"Dear Revy," his page began.
After a few minutes of working, he heard the telltale chime that meant the coffee was ready. Taking a break, he poured himself a fresh cup and went back to continue working. His pace was faster than he had expected. Even with multiple rewrites, he had a solid first draft after one hour. It was a page and a half and contained everything he wanted. Proud of himself, he took a break to stand by the window and again admired the morning view.
It was Saturday. Even the city of Roanapur observed the weekends and the tourists who now flocked to the city certainly did. They had been another side effect of Rock's power grab and the end of the war. For years the Thai government had downplayed Roanapur as a tourist destination, afraid that too many robberies, muggings, and deaths would damage the country's reputation. However, since the end of the war the city had become much safer. The smiling Buddha statue in the harbor now smiled down on boatloads of sightseers who had come from all over the world to take pictures, and their presence meant that several other businesses and branches of the city government were prospering. One of these was a small, temporary carnival that had just finished setting up in town. Rock was hoping to take Revy there, though in the excitement of having her back he'd forgotten to mention it last night.
Rock could see one of the boats now. A small converted Thai fishing boat that had sailed well enough past the statue of the Buddha so that its passengers could enjoy its view and that of the city. He briefly entertained the possibility of inviting Revy on a similar cruise and smiled to himself at her inevitable response.
"I see that smiling sack of shit for free all the time!" she would say. "Why the fuck would I pay extra to see it again?!"
Rock chuckled to himself. Imaginary Revy had a point. He watched the horizon and the boats for a few more minutes before returning to his work. About an hour later he was satisfied and printed his document. One last read through after it was printed and he drew a pen from a cup on the desk and signed his name. He folded it into thirds and placed it in an envelope and scrawled "To Revy, From Rock" on the front. Then he busied himself with other tasks.
Around 9:30 a.m. Rock checked his watch, stretched, and stood up. He poured a fresh cup of coffee, made his way back to their bedroom, and quietly opened the door. Revy stirred when she heard him enter. She'd been lying awake quietly for a while, waiting for him to return as she knew he would.
"Good morning!" he whispered loud enough for her to hear.
She raised one of her hands and waved to him.
"Want coffee?" he indicated the cup he was holding.
"Uh-huh," Revy muttered, nodding.
Rock entered their room as she sat up. He sat down on the bed, passed her the cup, and she took a long and satisfying drink.
"Did you sleep well?" Rock asked.
Revy rolled her eyes, shrugged, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry to hear that. You wanna sack out for awhile?"
Revy nodded again.
"Awesome!" Rock exclaimed, "by the way," he added, "there's going to be a little fair not far from the market today. There's going to be some rides, some games, a slingshot, a shooting gallery…"
At the mention of "rides" Revy immediately sat up. At the mention of a "shooting gallery" her face instantly lit up with delight.
"Fuck yes!" she yelled, all drowsiness forgotten, "How long's it go?!"
Rock chuckled. Revy could bounce from stone cold killer to giddy little girl in under a second, and Rock loved that about her.
"All day for the next three days," he answered happily, "so I figure you can catch up on sleep this morning and we could go this afternoon."
"Fuck that!" she retorted, "We go now!"
As they left the apartment Rock grabbed the letter he had written to Revy. The fair might just be the perfect place to give it to her.
The silver Benz wound its way through the streets towards the carnival. Revy pelted Rock with questions about it as they drove. What kinds of rides, food, games, prizes were there and plenty else besides. Through the blood and darkness and gore of her life, she was suddenly a kid excited for the fair and Rock found her utterly charming. He answered her questions as best he could. Lotton drove silently from the front seat. His only role was as the driver today and to guard the car after they parked. With Revy with him, Rock needed no other guards. Besides, he had also put on the flak jacket before they left and was wearing it under his shirt.
Presently they rounded a corner and the fair came into view.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" exclaimed Revy, her eyes going wide with excitement.
"Better than Japan I take it?" Rock prompted.
Revy snorted.
"Fuck yeah!"
Lotton parked the car, and they got out. Revy immediately eyed the gigantic slingshot ride. The premise of this attraction was simple— two riders were strapped into a vehicle consisting of two seats with elaborate seatbelts. What appeared to be giant rubber bands were attached to opposite sides of the vehicle to two roughly fifty foot high poles on either side of the attraction. When an attendant released a lever, the energy stored in those stretched rubber bands would be released in a millisecond, and the vehicle containing the two riders would be catapulted skyward at incredible speed. It would then bounce between those poles a certain number of times suspended by those rubber bands before a cable attached at the bottom of the vehicle would bring it slowly back to earth. Judging by the screams that Rock could hear from its current occupants, it was working as intended. Judging by the look that Revy was giving the contraption, he might well soon be one of them.
As if she could tell what he was thinking, Revy rounded on him with an evil grin on her face.
"That one!" she pointed to the slingshot.
Rock looked up at the attraction, wondering how he could get out of this.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes, fucker!" Revy answered, "Come on!"
Rock wasn't eager to lose his breakfast, but figured if he went on this one it might placate her enough that he'd be able to avoid going on others. They joined the line, chatting all the while. Some of the other tourists eyed Revy's cutlasses warily, but plenty of other Roanapur natives were wearing guns too, so there wasn't much they could do.
They got to the front of the line. Rock felt his stomach drop out of his ass, but he knew that Revy would never forgive him for backing out now. He clambered into the vehicle and allowed the attendant to strap him in. Revy strapped in next to him, still grinning with excitement. The attendant went through the normal safety spiel.
"… and keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times," he finished, smiling, "all set?"
"Let's do this!" barked Revy.
"Enjoy!" the attendant concluded, and he pulled the lever.
The vehicle shot skyward at what felt to Rock to be at least a hundred miles per hour. When it reached the top, terror suddenly gripped his heart. What if they smashed right back into the ground? Thankfully the ride worked as intended and after about three heart-stopping minutes, they were gently lowered back to earth. Rock staggered out of the ride as soon as he was unstrapped.
"Ok. I did that one, but I am nev…" he looked over to face Revy, but found she wasn't at his side. Looking around he saw she was still seated in the ride, her face had a dazed look and seemed to have gone vaguely green.
"Revy?" Rock asked her, concerned.
Suddenly and without any warning, Revy pitched forward in the seat. The attendant, who had seen this before and knew exactly what was about to happen, immediately placed a bucket into her line of fire and she vomited into it with force.
"Revy!" Rock exclaimed.
He ran to her side and bent down, placing his hand on her back.
"I'm okay," she gasped, flecks of spit and vomit still oozing from her mouth, "Christ. What's wrong with me today?"
Rock didn't know how to answer that. He just kept watching her until she slowly got back up. Then, when she staggered to her feet, caught her when she put her arm around his shoulder.
"Fuck me," she said, hanging limply off his shoulder, "I thought I'd love that thing."
They sat down on a bench while they both recovered and with Revy drinking liberally from a bottle of water.
"Never rode one of those things before," Revy said, indicating the ride, "Wanted to though. I swear I thought I could take it better than that."
She took another swig of water.
"We don't have to ride ones like that again," Rock reassured her, "How about…" he looked around the park, "the ferris wheel?"
Revy looked as if she quite liked the idea, but then her phone rang. She drew it out of her pocket and checked the number.
"It's Dutch," she sounded surprised. She flipped open the phone and answered the line.
"Sup Dutch?" she asked.
"Revy. Just got a call about a rush job in Manila," Dutch said, "They're offering 200K for two days' work. Up for it?"
"Fuck yeah!" she burst out, excited for such an excellent rate, "When?"
"Now," Dutch answered.
Revy's face fell. She glanced at Rock, then back at the ground.
"Dutch, we just got back. Rock and I are at the fair now," she protested.
Rock's face fell. This didn't sound good.
"Client's rules, Revy. You want the job or not?"
Revy sighed. She really hadn't meant to leave Rock this quick.
"Yes, boss."
"Good. Meet me at the dock in one hour."
"Yes, boss," she grumbled again.
The flip phone clicked as she hung up.
"Dutch just got a job. We leave in an hour," she said, not looking at Rock but staring at the ground.
Rock sighed and looked at the ground too.
They were quiet on the ride back to their apartment. Revy had to grab a couple things before heading to the dock. She looked out the window as the city flashed past, occasionally sneaking sidelong glimpses at Rock. Rock just stared out his own window with his thoughts. He didn't have much to say at this point. A year ago he had risked his life for this woman and seen her risk her life for him, but somehow he felt their relationship was always left playing second fiddle to her job. He waited in the car while she went up to get her things. He supposed he could have just gone in himself and stayed there, but he still wanted to see her off at the pier. He felt the letter he had written her in his back pocket. Did he still want to give it to her?
She got back in the car with her backpack on her back.
"Let's go, wizard!" she said impatiently, referring to Lotton by his gunman name.
Lotton looked at Rock in the rearview mirror. Rock nodded, and they drove off.
"The job's in Manila," Revy briefed Rock, "Shouldn't take more than two nights."
"Hmm," Rock responded, still looking out the window.
Revy grimaced with frustration. She had never been an expert at reading emotions, but she could recognize when Rock was upset. Trouble was, she still had next to no idea how to deal with that situation, and that fact alone pissed her off. She cast her mind around and came up with a plan she thought might work.
When they reached the dock, Rock and Revy got out of the car. Rock started walking towards the pier.
"Hey," Revy beckoned.
He looked around. She was standing behind the car at the entrance to a little alleyway hidden in shadows. She jerked her head in that direction, he followed her inside.
Once out of sight of the pier, she pushed him against the wall and kissed him passionately. Tongue and lips worked together. For a solid minute she lip-locked him in a way she hoped would mean she still got dinner and booze when next she came home.
After a minute she drew back, allowing him to catch his breath.
"Just two nights, okay?" she said.
Rock nodded. He still looked sad, so she kissed him again.
"I'll make this up to you," she added, as they broke apart.
He smiled at her, though still with sadness. She didn't know what else to say, at least that she was willing to say, so she kissed him again.
The timer on her watch went off. It was time to go. They broke apart.
"I'll see you soon," she said before turning away.
"Revy," he called after her.
She turned back. From his pocket he drew a thin envelope and held it out to her.
"Could you read this when you have a minute? It's important."
She stared at the envelope. It was too thin to contain much money, assuming there even was any in there. Then again, why would she have to "read" cash?
"Please," Rock pleaded, "I promise it's nothing bad."
Revy looked first at him, then took it.
"I'll see you soon," she said again.
He walked her out to the dock, and they hugged one last time before she boarded the ship.
"Rock," called a deep voice.
They broke apart in time to see Dutch striding towards them up the gangplank. He smiled.
"I get a hug too?" he asked Rock.
Rock smirked.
"Only if ya want one Dutch!" Rock joked.
Dutch smiled back.
"I'll pass. We ready?" he asked Revy.
"Yeah," Revy answered. Then, turning back to Rock, she said, "I'll see you later Rocky." She crossed to the deck of the ship. Dutch shook Rock's hand firmly.
"We're somewhat pressed for time. Otherwise I'd stay and chat," Dutch said apologetically, "poker game at the office when we get back?" he asked.
Rock smiled back.
"Sounds good Dutch. Have a safe trip."
Dutch crossed the gangplank back to his ship and started the engines. Revy untied her from the dock. As the Black Lagoon pulled away, Revy stood on the deck and waved at Rock, who waved back sincerely. He was still hurt, but he appreciated the gestures she had made. It was just like it was during the war. He had no right to make her stay. Plus, he'd given her what he wanted. He watched the ship sail away until Revy was out of sight. Then he turned back to the car where Lotton was waiting for him.
Ivan Tsakarovich didn't know many things. He knew that one and one made two, two made a pair, and that if he wanted to get some vodka from the nice man in the black sunglasses, he had to play his game. The game was to point the fake gun at the people the nice man told him to, yell "Привет," and pull the trigger, causing them to scream and then laugh. Today that man had shown him a picture of what looked like another nice Asian man with black hair. Ivan smiled. He liked seeing people laugh, and he liked vodka. That's why he played this game with the nice man.
He had been playing this game with them for a few months. They had picked him up on a street corner of Vladivostok and offered him some vodka and a job. Sadly, he had to tell them that he couldn't do a job. All his other bosses had ever told him he was too stupid to do a job. The men had smiled and said that this job was very easy and more like a game than a job. Ivan liked games. Ivan liked vodka. So Ivan said yes and for the last few months he had played their game. He had played it so often that he had become very good at it. Ivan liked having friends who said he was good at something.
Now he was riding in a car sitting behind two nice men. It was a sunny day on a street he didn't recognize. They parked on the side of the street about forty feet from the entrance to a restaurant with a picture of a pizza in the front. Ivan liked pizza.
"Can we get pizza for lunch after we play the game?" he asked one of the nice men in Russian.
The nice man in the black sunglasses turned around, smiled and said, "Of course we can Ivan! You just make sure to play the game well, okay?"
"Oh, yes, sir!" Ivan nodded fervently.
They saw several men emerge from the restaurant. One was the dark-haired Asian man whose picture Ivan had just seen.
"Go get him, Tiger," the nice man in black aviator sunglasses gave Ivan the magic words that signaled the start of the game.
Ivan stepped out of the car and ran towards the Asian man. He was so fast and so good at the game by this point that he was able to draw the fake gun, yell, "Привет," and pull the trigger before the Asian man was able to react. But this time something was wrong. Instead of laughing like he was supposed to, the Asian man seemed to lose all his strength from the waist down and fall on the ground. Ivan was confused. Was this a new part of the game? He didn't have long to think. Several of the other men nearby instantly drew their guns and fired multiple rounds point-blank into Ivan. Ivan felt a brief moment of pain and was dead before he hit the ground. He didn't hear the car he had come from turn around and drive away with his two nice friends inside.
A few hours earlier.
Rock woke up and checked the wall clock. It was 9:04 a.m. It was Sunday, and he knew he had a meeting with the Italians at 11:00 a.m. after Church was over. The Italians always went to Church on Sunday. They may be stone-cold mafia killers, but they always kept mass and stayed in the good graces of the Church. Italy was the home of the Pope after all, and they all wanted to go to heaven someday.
Rock massaged his head, nursing the hangover that was entirely his fault. After he'd seen Revy off the day before, he had gone back to their apartment and drunk both of the remaining bottles of Bacardi until he'd passed out on the couch. His head hurt something awful, but even so he couldn't stop himself from getting up, stumbling back to their bedroom and looking in hopefully. Their bed was empty, she wasn't there, and somehow he felt the pain in his head increase.
He walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water. Then, he took it to their bathroom and got some aspirin from the medicine cabinet. The meeting might not be for another two hours, but Rock needed to start getting ready now. The meeting had no real goals to accomplish. The Italians had some last minute reservations about the deal they'd just negotiated with Hotel Moscow. Nothing about the deal in question was up for debate anymore, and the true purpose of the meeting was to listen to them bitch for an hour and pretend to be interested. Rock loathed it, but he was also committed to seeing peace in the city. He knew this was a small but critical part of that mission.
He swallowed the aspirin and went back out to the kitchen for breakfast. Just an easy bowl of cereal today. He thought glumly of the breakfast he had intended to make for himself and Revy, but this was easier anyway. He finished breakfast and took a nice long shower, brushed his teeth, and dressed. By the time he was done with all of that, it was 10:05 a.m. and he called Lotton to bring the car. Lotton showed up at around 10:15, and Rock strode out of the building to greet him and his other two guards. Lotton stood by the passenger door waiting for him.
"Good morning, boss," Lotton greeted. "Are you wearing that flak jacket?"
Rock stopped cold. He had completely forgotten. Lotton seemed to guess his answer by his silence.
"Please, boss," Lotton begged, bowing slightly, "We have time."
It took every ounce of professional training and experience Rock possessed to trudge back up to his apartment, remove his jacket, tie, and shirt, then put on the flak jacket and redress. By the time he got back to the car, it was 10:25 a.m., and his temper was running high.
"Let's go," he barked without the usual courtesy.
Lotton drove off towards the restaurant.
The meeting went exactly as Rock had predicted. One hour of Italian bitching with nothing productive being done. Once again it took every ounce of professionalism Rock possessed to listen, nod, and feign sympathy convincingly enough for the Italians not to go on the warpath, but he managed.
Finally the meeting came to an end. He stood up, shook their hands, and made his way out to the car. He was so relieved to be done with it he didn't notice the big blonde man running towards him until he yelled, "Привет," by which point it was absolutely too late.
Dutch and Revy were sitting on the bridge of the Lagoon eating their usual lunch of canned beans and beer. Dutch was still at the controls, though he had the autopilot engaged so he could talk to and look at her freely. They were laughing, joking, and generally having a good time. They'd been at sea for a day and a night at this point and weren't far from their destination. The pickup was supposed to happen that night.
Suddenly, the radio clicked on.
"This is Okajima Consultants, LLC to Black Lagoon. Please respond!"
Dutch put his fork back in his can and picked up the handset.
"Benny boy? Issat you?" Dutch asked.
"Affirmative," Benny responded. Then, remembering that only the real Dutch called him that, proceeded with his message without waiting for the correct response.
"Rock's been shot," he said.
There was a stunned silence that followed these words, then Revy seized the handset from Dutch and let the full force of her lungs be known.
"What the fuck happened?!" she bellowed so loudly that Dutch could feel his eardrums ringing.
On the other end of the line, Benny took a moment to recover. He wished he hadn't been wearing a headset for this call.
"It happened about an hour ago. Apparently some Russian guy charged him and his guards outside an Italian place with a handgun. Lotton says they brought the guy down quick, but he still shot Rock five times before he fell. They took him to…"
Revy's mind stopped. As soon as she heard the number of times Rock had been hit her ears filled with a kind of high-pitched buzzing that drowned out the rest of Benny's message. She stood there dumbfounded for so long that Dutch took the radio back from her.
"Benny," he said sharply, "Keep us updated with any new information you get."
"Affirmative," Benny responded, "Okajima Consultants out."
Dutch turned to Revy.
"You want to continue with the job or go back to Rock?" he asked.
The gears in Revy's mind turned slowly. She thought about it for a minute as two of her most primal instincts came into conflict. On the one hand, they were on a job. Jobs meant money, and money meant guns, bullets, and other things they needed. Money meant power, and this job paid well. On the other, Rock might be dead. What did that mean? She didn't know, but something big. Was there anything they could do at this point? Probably not. Probably the best they could do was continue on with the job and check on Rock when they got back. If he was alive, great. But if not….
She froze for a moment again. There was simply no denying it. The possibility that Rock was no longer in the world filled her with dread. Finally, she shook her head. She decided to try to hedge their bets.
"Call the client. Ask 'em how much shit they'd give us if we ditched," she said.
"Good idea."
Dutch reached into his pocket, pulled out a spiral notebook, flipped to a page, and punched a frequency into the radio. Static. After listening to nothing but worthless buzzing for thirty seconds, he hung up and tried another frequency. Also static.
"Two bad numbers," he said pensively, "Hang on."
He pulled a three-ring binder out of a drawer near the control panel and flipped to a page. Revy knew it contained contact information for nearly every harbor in the South China Sea. Dutch was trying to contact the harbormaster where the transfer job was to take place. Finally he found the contact info for Manila harbor and dialed another frequency into the radio. It rang a few times, and then someone picked up.
"Manila harbormaster. State your request."
"This is the captain of the Black Lagoon. Ship code four five two one alpha. Do you have a shipment of freight for us in warehouse six two zulu?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"Sir, we have no warehouse by that designation."
Dutch lowered the microphone slightly in surprise and then brought it back to his mouth.
"Do you have any paperwork that says our ship should receive a shipment at your port any time this week?" he asked.
Another pause.
"Negative," the voice responded, "We have no information regarding your vessel."
"Thank you. Black Lagoon out."
Dutch hung up the radio, disengaged the autopilot, and turned the wheel one hundred and eighty degrees and increased speed. They were going back to Roanapur.
"Whoever shot Rock placed a fake order with us to get us out of the city," Dutch said with finality. "They knew that we, or at least you, would fight to protect him if we were still there. This was an assassination."
Revy nodded.
"And it looks like Hotel Moscow is in on it," she snarled. Maybe she'd get her chance to go toe-to-toe with big sis, Balalaika after all. The possibility excited her.
"I don't think so," Dutch said slowly. Revy looked at him.
"It doesn't make sense to me. If Balalaika wanted Rock dead, why didn't she plant a bomb, or a sniper from a rooftop? No need to worry about his guards. One clean headshot, and he's in the dirt. And she would've known he'd be guarded. Say what you will about Balalaika, but she loves her men."
Revy snorted at the double entendre. Dutch ignored her and continued.
"She wouldn't knowingly send one of them to get killed. She's lost men in battle before. That's unavoidable. But to send one guy into close range to take out a well-guarded target with no escape plan or backup? No, that's not her. I'd bet money on it."
"So what is the fuckin' deal then?" Revy asked, impatiently.
"I don't know Revy," Dutch returned, "I don't know."
Revy stumbled towards the back and collapsed in a chair. Dutch decided not to engage her further. He figured she had some important things on her mind. Mechanically, she reached for the cigarettes in her back pocket and was surprised to feel a long, thin piece of paper there instead. Pulling it out she realized it was the envelope Rock had given her before they left. She remembered him telling her it was important.
She opened it, pulled out the two typed pages it contained, and began to read.
Dear Revy,
During our first night together, you asked me if I only hung around you because I want to have sex with you. Not long ago you said you would be interested in hearing why I love you. I want to take this opportunity to explain why I love you and where I'm hoping our relationship will go in future.
First, you are highly adaptable. You've never given me a full picture of your life before Roanapur and how you came to be here. Someday I really hope that you do, but in the meantime the few details you have given me are not pretty. From what I've gathered, your life has been marked by cruel poverty, neglect, and abuse. Many others born into your circumstances have died young, alone, and on the streets. Beyond that, I've watched you survive and succeed against seemingly impossible odds time and time again on our jobs. The fact that you have survived for this long in this world, and grown into the spectacular gunslinger that you are today, is a testament to an amount of inner strength and drive that I can only marvel at. This is the first reason I love you.
Second, you are fiercely protective of those closest to you, and I say this with some authority because I've directly benefited from this quality many times. The best example I can think of occurred during the war between the Triads and Hotel Moscow. During the final confrontation in Chang's office you stepped directly into Balalaika's line of fire for no other reason than to protect me. One shot would have meant your death. Had you not been there, it would have meant mine. If there was anything left for you to prove in terms of courage or devotion in that moment, it was proven forever. I deeply regret putting you in that position, but I will always be grateful. Your protection is absolutely invaluable and is the sole reason I and several others have survived for this long. This is the second reason I love you.
Third, you are immensely helpful and supportive. The best example I can think of comes from when I was hired to track down Roberta for the Lovelace family when she came back to Roanapur. You had no reason to help me find her. None. You could easily have refused and allowed me to go alone. The fact that you agreed to the plan, came with me, and were absolutely instrumental in making that rescue mission happen is an example of how supportive you are of those close to you. In hindsight, I should have been vastly more appreciative of you at the time, but I am nonetheless immensely grateful for your help. This is another reason I love you.
Fourth, you are resolutely free and independent. There are very few people anywhere who you value enough to obey their instructions or allow to influence your decisions. The examples of this are too numerous to list. This is relevant, because when you do choose to compromise that independence for the sake of others it shows how much you value them. I personally feel immensely gratified to fall into that category, and it is one of the reasons I love you.
I want to carry you over the threshold of whatever house or apartment we own together the first time you enter, so there is never any doubt of who is welcome and wanted there. I want to cook dinner for you every Friday night and breakfast every Saturday morning. I want to drink with you until we can't walk straight anymore, fall asleep next to you every night, and the next day I want to wake up next to your beautiful form and take a moment to reflect on how unbelievably lucky I am to have you in my life. I want to know your life story from beginning to finish, whatever you're willing to tell me, because I love you and I want to know more about you. I want to tell you all the wonderful things I think about you and hold you in the manner you want and deserve.
I love you Revy.
Sincerely yours,
Rock
Revy finished reading and sat in stunned silence. This was too much. This was like smashing a twig with a freight train. This was running over a blade of grass with a 747. Her fear at the possibility of losing Rock forever crashed headlong into whatever the fuck she had just read and produced a veritable perfect storm of emotions, none of which she was remotely equipped to deal with. A little over a year ago, Rock had screamed that he loved her for the first time outside of Chang's office, and her mind had frozen in response. She didn't know what her reaction was now, but she knew it was gonna be worse.
After a few minutes of sitting and staring off into space, she tried to reread the letter once, but suddenly jumped up, ran outside to the railing, bent over, and vomited the contents of her stomach straight into the ocean even more violently than she had after the slingshot. After she'd finished voiding her stomach of everything in it, she flopped down onto the deck and tried to catch her breath. She sat there for a while, breathing heavily, trying to process everything, and failing. Then she stood up and swayed back inside. Taking the letter from the table, she turned to Dutch.
"You still need me?" she asked, trying her best to sound normal.
"Not right now," Dutch answered, "Will in about an hour though."
"Alright."
Revy couldn't tell if he was giving her the time off on purpose, or if he genuinely didn't need her yet. Either way she staggered into her cabin and flopped down on the bed staring up at the ceiling. After a few minutes she took a drink of water from the canteen next to her cot and then lifted the letter back in front of her eyes and started to read it again.
An hour later, Revy emerged from her cabin. She kept as much a poker face as possible as she approached Dutch.
"Anything goin' on?" she asked, as nonchalantly as she could manage.
"Yeah," Dutch answered, "go an…"
Dutch was suddenly interrupted by a call on the radio. He picked up the handset and clicked it on.
"This is Black Lagoon. Go ahead."
"Dutch. It's Benny. We just heard from the hospital. Rock's gonna live."
Both Dutch and Revy breathed a deep sigh of relief. Revy steadied herself on the other seat. She had never felt anything like that.
"I figured you'd want to know ASAP. He was shot five times on the left side of his chest at close range, but he was wearing a bulletproof vest. He's got a collapsed lung, some internal bleeding, and two broken ribs. But the hospital says they expect him to recover with no debilitating injuries."
Revy breathed again. Her head was swimming.
"Benny boy, that is the best news I coulda heard just now. Thank you."
"Sure, Dutch. There's also something else. The cops say that Rock was shot with a stechkin pistol. Lotton and the other guards killed his assassin before they could question him. But they say he shouted something in Russian before trying to take Rock out, and they found Russian I.D. on him. The Italians are already screaming that Hotel Moscow is involved."
"Hmm," Dutch muttered, as he processed this information. He turned to Revy.
"Rock didn't mention any bad blood between him and Balalaika recently, did he?"
Revy shook her head.
"He said that he was working on some deal between them and the Italians. He didn't say anything about it going bad."
"He mention what it was about?"
"Naw. Said he couldn't. Confidential," she rolled her eyes.
Dutch nodded and clicked the radio back on.
"Anything else, Benny?"
"Nope. I'll let you know if I hear anything else."
"Roger. Lagoon out."
Dutch hung up.
They got back to Roanapur about twenty hours later. Benny was waiting for them at the dock when they pulled in. They tied up the boat, piled into the car, and set off for the hospital.
They got there around 10:00 p.m. Benny suggested that they get some sleep and go tomorrow, but Revy shot him a look so dangerous he dropped the suggestion immediately. He couldn't find any close parking, so he dropped Dutch and Revy at the front and drove off to find a space. This being Roanapur, there was a security checkpoint and an armed guard at the gate. He stopped them before they entered and pointed at Dutch's revolver.
"No weapons beyond this point," he said. "If you want, you can check them here and receive them when you leave.
Dutch groaned. He should've remembered this. The hospital had beefed up security during the war and had kept it up afterward. He knew that there was no chance that Revy would willingly turn over her precious cutlasses, and Benny had already driven off with the car. He was about to suggest they call him back when he saw something so incredible it made his jaw drop. With a face screwed up with displeasure but without one word of protest, Revy was pointing her guns at the guard, butts forward, handing them over.
Author's note: As always, thank you for reading! All reviews welcome.