Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews and the favorite! I'm more than excited to continue this story.

I have sooooo much to the plot line that I've been wanting to add with it, but it feels like my ideas are boiling over like a rice cooker, so I'm trying reeeeeaallly hard to stay focused.

I've also JUST gotten my CGing tablet for my artwork, so I'm sorry this took a few days.

Anywho, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Smoke billowed from the cherry of a lit cigar as it lay tip down in an ashtray. The man behind it sat with his hands folded on the table, considerably less tan than his own, his red button up slightly askew and open, although his jacket seemed to make it look natural. After a moment he unfolded one of his hands and lifted it to the gold chain on his neck. His silent stare, Vaas thought was a ruse to make him uncomfortable. Like hell.

Vaas turned his attention lazily back to the smoke as it rose to the ceiling, twisting and turning much like a snake, before circling itself, and beginning to look like a noose. He snorted at the thought of using the primitive killing device. Leaving the bodies out to hang before his camp, warding off curious natives. Fucking classic. He'd set it up when he got back to the compound.

His snort seemed to irk the man before him enough that his middle aged face contorted to something resembling disdain. "Do you think this situation is funny Mr. Monetegro? Do you even know why we are here?"

Vaas leaned back and rubbed his hands over the sides of his newly shaved Mohawk and looked at the man who was still ignoring his cigar. "Fuck man. You call me in here, don't say a damn word, and expect me to know whats going on? I think you need the break, Volker."

Hoyt Volker grimaced all the more and in a swift motion slid open a drawer and pressed a button on a small remote control. From the left side of his desk, a small television began to rise up, the screen a mix of static. He pressed another button and the screen jumped to life.

A group of shanty's rose up in the distance, their size increasing as the cameras switched until they were trained on the rear entrance. "Do you see this? " he tapped the screen with a thin finger. "This is your eyesore of a compound Vaas. Your castle, as you call it. And you see THIS?" The faint sound of gunshots could be heard from the speakers of the television, a few screams, cursing, and then the doors burst open. Vaas instantly scowled and sat forward. A crouching man moved through the doors, checked his surroundings, and ran to the jungle. "THAT my dear boy is one of your prisoners!" He spoke in his thick accent that was hard for Vaas to place and finally picked up his cigar, only to see that it was burnt out. This annoyed him. "Oh, but wait, there's more! " He tapped another button on his remote, and it switched to another tape featuring the same escapee in privateer turf. "That same son of a bitch has been sniffing around on my land, Vaas. MY LAND." He flicked his burnt out cigar at him. "This is completely unacceptable."

Vaas groaned, remembering the prisoner all too well. Tall bastard, green defiant eyes. Thought he was tough shit. Had turned out to be a massive pain in his ass. "I lost a good amount of men to that little fuck." He brushed the cigar off of him, trying not to let it get to him. He'd get it back to him tenfold one day. "I've re-enforced the barriers, and gave my pile-o-pricks a set of bigger guns. Make 'em train with it every day. That shit won't be happening again."

Hoyt nodded, as if he were listening, though Vaas figured he had tuned him out when he began to speak. And then he sighed, and looked up at him, making a small gesture with his hand, that confused Vaas at first, until he felt a set of arms wrap around his neck, holding him in place. Another privateer he hadn't exactly noticed walked in and pointed a gun right at his head. Hoyt stood, and once more, albeit lazily, opened one of his desk doors. "I'm afraid that's just not good enough." He lifted a machete from the drawer. "If you can't make your mark on this place. I'll make my mark on you." He stepped forward and shifted the machete between his hands. "I never did like that hairstyle anyway."

Vaas snapped back into the moment, and stared down at the battered captain. "What the fuck did you call me?" The captain was silent. This pissed him off even more. He rushed forward and got into the man's face, pressing his pistol against his temple. "I SAID WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME, FRANK!"

The man did his best not to recoil, clearly trying to be strong. All a load of shit if you asked Vaas. He bit off enough courage to look the man in the eyes, and said in a nearly unwavering voice. "I said. 'What are you, a wanna be scarface."

Vaas snarled audibly. "That's what I fucking thought you said."

The sound of a gunshot rung out through the compound.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

I didn't really know how Vaas had gotten the scar that we all see on his forehead, so I thought I'd give a little back story!

More from Raven soon to come~