Hell Hath No Fury (Like a Dominique Scorned)
"These fucking females, man, always a pain in the fucking ass, you know?" Vaas wipes the blood off on his pants. His victim's head lolls to the side, his mouth puffy and oozing blood. Vaas holds up the victim's tooth, squinting at the indication of bad oral hygiene.
"This is fucking embarrassing. You need to floss more." He says. Carmen stands at the door, arms crossed and gun perched under her arm. Her eyebrow raised, she watches her…companion…work his magic of interrogation methods.
"Please, please kill me. Just fucking kill me." The victim moans.
"But hermano," Vaas squats down to eye level, "we're having so much fun together." He grins and swats his cheek.
"Tell us what you know about your boss. When is his shipment coming in?" Carmen cuts in.
"I-I don't know anything…"
"…you know something, hermano. We heard you talking. You should never open your big mouth in the enemy's grounds." Vaas brandishes the knife.
"Answer the question and maybe we'll let you die quickly."
The knife sinks into his flesh, slowly peeling skin from muscle. His howls are music to Vaas' ears.
"Okay, okay! I'll tell you, just please stop!" tears are streaming down his face.
"Talk!" Carmen barks sharply.
"Kingston h-he's planning an ambush on Beras Town. The shipment is coming in tonight."
"Shit! He's got reinforcements?"
"Big guys with muscles, some of them…with weird tattoos."
"Names. Names, motherfucker."
"Monte, Gaston, and Foster. They're…they're…"
"…Involved in the human trafficking ring in Spain, France, and the US of fucking A." Vaas answers for him.
"Thank you for your time. But, no hard feelings." He shoots him point blank in the head. "You were a better snitch than you were ever a man."
"What the fuck did you do that for? We could've gotten more information…"
"I can fill in the blanks. These are the head honchos of the ring. Kingston is trying to bring in the big guns and wipe us out completely for his operation. The ambush on Beras Town is a starting point. It'll be WWIII if we don't do it quick and do it fast before any of those fuckers catch on. We need to get ready."
"What are we going to do?"
"Round up the girls. We're going to greet the fuckers in Beras Town. Kill his men, destroy his shipment, and take him down once and for all."
"Are they ready?"
"They better be. I trained them."
"Vaas?"
"What?"
"I'm not one to pry in people's affairs but…is something…going on…between you and Dominique?"
"What the fuck gave you that idea?"
"Well, I noticed you're…tense…more than usual. And, well, we can feel the tension between you two. You also refuse to communicate with each other. That's part of why our operation fell apart three days ago…?"
She has a point; Dominique's lack of communication made lack of relaying information to Vaas, which led them to scramble for a back-up plan that almost blew their cover. Now, Kingston can see they're coming, which isn't good.
"Nothing. Fucking. Happened."
"If you say so. But if it is, maybe…talk about it? It helps to lessen the tension. And maybe, help our group become more organized…"
"Shut the fuck up and move your ass. We need to get shit done and get it done now. But first," he looks down at the bound and bloodied body in disdain, "let's clean this fucking mess up."
"Listen up, bitches. Tonight's the night we take back what's ours. You ready?"
Cries of women break out into the night. Vaas stands at attention, admiring the bloodlust and devotion in his soldiers' eyes. He's trained them well.
"Alright, motherfuckers! Let's move!"
Vaas lurks in the shadows, eyes flitting back and forth at his surroundings. When he sees the boat come to the shore, he raises his hand for pause. People come out of the boat; Vaas recognizes Gaston, Monte, and Foster immediately. He sees Kingston and signals for them to get in position. They may not expect them to come, but he can expect some of the muscle to come lurking.
He sees the militiamen come out of the woodworks.
He's ready.
"Ah, Beras Town. I'm almost sad to get rid of all the townsfolk. But, they've been a colossal pain in the ass." Kingston says, guiding the men with him.
"Follow the muscle. Don't lose them and when you kill them, don't make a sound." Vaas hisses into the walkie-talkie.
"You got it, boss." Pandora answers. Vaas creeps back into the shadows, never taking his eyes off his prey. This could be over tonight; he just needs everything to go to plan…
Gunfire breaks out.
"Shit!" he hisses. Please, for the love of God, don't let the girls fuck up their mission…
"Boss! The natives are attacking! They're on to us!"
Shit-shit-shit-shit—
Kingston pulls out a gun and fires in the air; Gaston, Monte, and Foster scatter in the jungle. Fuck; who could've thought to fuck up the operation…?
Seeing he had no other option, Vaas follows after Kingston, weapons ready.
He'll settle the score once and for all.
If there's one thing Vaas is grateful for, is that he'd grown up in the jungle long enough to stalk prey undetected. In the midst of chaos and war, Kingston is none-the-wiser, stumbling through the jungle without proper back-up and correspondence. It was almost too easy.
Kingston doesn't have Hoyt's wisdom, or Buck's calculated demeanor, or even Citra's diplomacy. He was nothing more than an American fuck who wanted to play Conquistador and didn't even know the rules of the trade. It reminded him of the SoCal douchebag who gutted him and fled like a coward, only without the common sense.
He's astounded as to how he lived this long.
He's so close to him; it'd be child's play to put a bullet in his head and be done with it. He readies his gun, finger itching to pull the trigger. It's like breathing…one, two…
He fires.
Unfortunately, he missed; Kingston rolled out of the way and fled.
"Fuck!" he hissed.
"I know you out here, Vaas. Why don't you come out the woodworks and we can settle this like gentlemen? You gon' send some bitches to do your dirty work? I'm disappointed." Kingston calls out in the darkness. A low growl of a tiger warns them of the possibly worsening situation.
"That's because these bitches made your men look like pussies. They fucking slaughtered you without breaking a sweat."
"I'm impressed. Give a few jungle bunnies some guns and they think they run shit. Come on out. I want to see what the Big, Bad, Vaas Montenegro looks like. Your reputation is of legends. My men name their bitches after you."
"Oh, hermano, you're really digging a hole in your fucking grave. Come on out, if you man enough and we can end this."
"Ladies first."
"Never thought you'd ask." A female voice breaks out in the darkness.
That voice…
Women come out of the shadows, someone pointing their rifle in Kingston's back. He feels a barrel of a gun jam itself into his spine.
"One fucking move and you'll be paralyzed from the waist down." A voice hisses in his ear. The voice ignites a fire in his belly that's traveling to his groin.
It's Dominique.
He feels a burst of pain in the back of his head, then darkness.
He's starting to hate getting hit in the head this many times; he wonders if the blows to his head rattled away pieces of his insanity. Okay, Vaas. Slowly open your eyes, assess the damage—fuck, you're blindfolded. And let me guess, you're bound—oh, are captors so fucking predictable and cliché…
"Hello, Vaas. Kingston. Gentlemen. Sorry for the double-cross, but we need to edit some of our negotiations and settle a few differences. So, let's talk."