Wow, I updated this quite fast. I wasn't sure if I'd be finished this soon, but here it is. I hope you guys enjoy it. Hopefully it won't disappoint.

Forever Changed

Chapter IV

There was nothing that Eda could think of, no reason at all, as to why she had to be called out to this place. Maybe it was always going to turn out this way, she thought? If she had a choice in the matter, she'd have gladly paid any kind of price to avoid this encounter.

Too late now, she thought. I should have just stayed the hell away.

This was unavoidable however. There was nothing she could say or do to keep herself from setting foot on the island, a small stretch of land a few miles out from Roanapur; hopefully she wouldn't be missed, and with some measure of good fortune no one would notice her short trip. It wasn't far enough from the city that someone wouldn't be watching. She had to be careful, for more reasons than one.

Truthfully, she should have seen this – should have known that things would come to this eventually. Roanapur had been on the brink of utter madness for some time; she knew that all it would take was for one small thing to go horribly wrong, something that would give things that final nudge over the edge. When the time came anarchy the likes of which even Roanapur's worst had never seen would take hold and infect everything around them. The stability that the Russians and the Chinese had so far held together was about to slip through their fingers.

Oddly enough, if Eda could have done anything to prevent it she would have. But that was beyond her reach of power to accomplish. All that she could hope to do now was get this over with and then get out of the way before the boiling pot erupted in everyone's faces.

The sun was now hanging low; it bathed the sandy shore of the island in a harbinger-like crimson. It felt to her like a terrible sign of things to come.

She stepped away from the boat, making her way toward a small patch of trees near the island's centre. The place was small, and appeared completely empty of human activity. But Eda knew better. Claudia had called her there, during that long phone conversation that should never have happened. Everything that the woman had wanted to been arranged over the phone, so Eda hadn't a clue as to what she could want from a face to face. Knowing Claudia, Eda had the feeling that she wouldn't see it coming.

She still didn't understand what was driving the woman this time. Why would The Pack have reassembled now? Why in Roanapur? Who were they gunning for, she wondered? Were they active again just for the sheer joy of violence, or was someone else behind their re-emergence?

All speculation aside, she was fairly certain that she wouldn't receive the full story from Claudia, but hopefully she might learn something, perhaps just enough to that she could at least come out of this situation in one piece.

Or maybe that's too much to hope for.

Ditching her typical outfit and throwing on her skirt and clingy pink vest top was something she had done without a single thought before leaving; everyone knew her as the nun, and if anyone did in fact spot her during this trip she didn't want to attract any more attention then was needed.

If word got back to Balalaika, or anyone else, then whatever The Pack was doing could be compromised. The last thing she wanted was to have those lunatics coming after her. Nothing could possibly ruin her life more than that. Even her own government couldn't keep Claudia and her bunch under control; this was a group who had killed and eluded every last operative or combined force sent after them. If things didn't go to Eda's likings, then getting out fast was the only option.

Run. Run, and hope that I can live out the next few days in relative peace before I lose my fucking head. And just when I thought this day was going so well.

Still, she guessed there were worse ways to spend the evening, like listening to Revy wine and bitch on about Rock. Eda wondered when that vulgar booze killing gunslinger was just going to bang his brains out and get it over with. Strangely enough she regretted not being able to warn Lagoon about what was on the way. Sadly they would have to stay on the sinking ship when it went down. There wasn't anything she could do about that, not without risking exposure.

There was a part of her that hoped that Rock might have the good sense to get away before things went straight to hell. He was by no means stupid; that was obvious. But something was keeping him in Roanapur, something that could be his undoing. The man wasn't like anyone else in the city; he didn't belong, no matter how hard he tried to fit into the frothing cesspit that had laid down any morality it might have had a long time ago, the very cesspit Rock called home. He didn't deserve to go down like everyone else. But again, there was nothing she could do, at least nothing she could think of.

Oh well. It's the way of the world I guess. The innocent suffer along with the guilty. It's not right and it's not pretty, but that's just the way things work. Always has been, always will be.

Eda finally reached the cluster of trees; the interior was drenched in shadows, but there existed enough sunlight still that she could make out a shape deep within the vegetation. A woman sat low, possibly on a tree stump; she couldn't tell if it was definitely a stump, but that short mess of scarlet hair was unmistakable, even after so long.

Claudia – pack leader, code name: Red Wolf – slowly lifted her head at Eda's approached. She suspected that Claudia had heard her before she ever reached the trees, and despite herself she felt the quickening of her pulse.

She kept her Glock holstered. Something told her that she wouldn't be drawing the gun at any point during this meeting, though she couldn't be certain of that. However she knew that if Claudia wanted her dead she wouldn't have bothered to call her out, nor would she have to seek her help in the first place. It wasn't much, but it was a card she could play, and if it kept her alive then she would go ahead and play it to her last breath.

The bright green of Claudia's eyes glimmered in the failing light, a smile formed across her thin lips as she stared back at Eda.

"I can't say I like your outfit," she said rather casually. "Not really suitable for a sister of the good lord."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" Eda said.

"I suppose you're right, of course," Claudia stood up, revealing her impressive physique and height. "You wouldn't want any nosy types hanging around. No one needs to know what you're really up to."

"Should I be worried about that?"

"I shouldn't think so, not unless you're thinking of stabbing me in the back. But I have a feeling that you wont."

Eda raised a finger, straightening out her shades. She held her place as the red haired commander moved closer, slow collected strides that reeked of confidence.

Even after all this time it appeared that Claudia had kept herself in strict training. She wore all black; worn looking trousers covered her legs, with military boots laced tightly all the way up. A light Kevlar vest hugged her muscled build; the sleeves of her black top beneath were rolled up to the elbows, her forearms rippled with strength as she folded them over her chest.

Only a member of The Pack could look so dangerously in shape after such a long break from the field, Eda thought. That was assuming they had remained inactive. If Claudia and her people had operated in any other part of the world since their vanishing then she certainly hadn't gotten word of it. She was certain that she would have been told. Unless of course, the brass didn't know themselves.

How couldn't the CIA know of her activities? Maybe because these people are ghosts.

"So, what's the game plan here, Claudia?"

"The game plan? Can't I just call an old friend for a friendly talk?"

Eda rolled his eyes. "I think 'friend' might be stretching things just a tad. Even back then we weren't exactly the best of buds."

"True," Claudia said, smiling. "But you were there at the beginning; if anyone should understand me, it should be you, Eda. You were always closest to me in the programme."

Eda wondered then, just how much of the Claudia she knew even existed anymore? This woman may have had Claudia's appearance, but her expression, the way she carried herself without force but with so much ease, was all together different. Even her phrases and mannerisms seemed to have changed. Eda couldn't help but think that the Red Wolf hated her, but wasn't entirely sure as to why.

"I already told you: I had nothing to do with what happened back then."

"Well, that's only half true, isn't it?"

"No, it's the whole truth!" Eda felt her skin prickling with heat. "You dug your own hole. There was nothing I could do?"

"Nothing you were willing to do."

"Claudia– "

Claudia unfolded her arms, letting them come to rest at her sides. Eda saw the clenching and unclenching of her fists, and her hand came dangerously close to reaching for her gun.

"Listen," Eda said. "The package has been scheduled to arrive tomorrow. There's no reason for this to– "

"Tell me, Eda," Claudia interrupted. "Are you enjoying yourself here? Has that city tainted you even further? Do you even know why you're here anymore?"

"I haven't forgotten. I'm sure you know all the details by now."

"In fact I've only recently been looking into it," Claudia's face darkened as the sun sank further, though the emerald of her eyes remained strangely unchanged. "I imagine the 14K and Hotel Moscow would prove valuable little pets of our government, as long as they could be controlled," her eyes suddenly narrowed sharply. "Or should I say, as long as the Russians can be controlled. The Chinese aren't really the problem currently, are they? We'll get to Mr Chang in a moment though."

The muscles in Eda's face pulled tight. "As long as Balalaika keeps her warmongering in her own back yard– "

"And what was Japan exactly? Not really a local affair, was it?"

Just how long has this bitch really been watching all of us?

"Is that what this is all about?" Eda asked, trying to force something specific into the open.

"I didn't say anything of the sort," Claudia replied with a shake of her head. "I was just pointing out the overextension of Hotel Moscow's reach these days, especially within the Roanapur branch. They do seem rather energetic at the moment. I think I can relate; it's not easy sitting on you ass with no meat to sink your teeth into."

"So that's it?" Eda said. "Purpose? That's what dragged you out of the shadows?"

Was there even a grand scheme behind Claudia's actions, Eda wondered? She could have laughed, if Claudia's appearance hadn't placed her on the deadly tightrope that might see the end of her. Eda would have to play things safe if she didn't want to mess things up. Calling Langley would be a colossal mistake, as the woman standing in front of her knew everything about her past. The only way to eliminate the newly placed handicap would be to kill the Red Wolf where she stood. However Claudia was The Pack leader for a reason: because she was practically the incarnation of butchery and malicious brilliance. She was walking death.

"Perhaps. But there's a lot of money involved as well. Me and mine aren't the only one's benefiting from this little adventure."

Eda couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Just a desperate bunch looking for a few thrills, with some incentive of course," Claudia chuckled. "That reminds me, I have another request."

Whilst biting her lower lip, Eda asked herself if she was really ready to go along with everything that Claudia wanted from her. When she stopped to examine her choices it seemed that they had all been used up. There was nothing she could say to her superiors back home, as certain things she had herself been involved in years ago could come to light, things that Claudia no doubt possessed every detail of. Couple that with how dangerous The Pack was and there was no room left to breath, let alone move.

"A request?"

Claudia smirked. "It helps if you think of it that way."

"Why didn't you tell me this over the phone?" Eda felt her unease continue to grow.

"Because I wouldn't have been able to have this face to face with an old friend. I thought you were paying attention," Claudia sighed. "I hope you can remember all of this; I'd hate for you to screw it up when you call Mr Chang."

Eda could have gasped, but she didn't. "Holey shit, Claudia! What the hell– "

"Don't stress over it," Claudia said. "Now, a few friends of yours had a brush with a small band of mercenaries earlier today. Mr Chang should already know about this due to his receiving a package from said company."

It was too late, Eda realised. Lagoon had already managed to stumble into the strengthening maelstrom. She wondered if they would have any idea of what was coming down on their heads?

"What the hell has Lagoon Company got to do with this?" she asked.

"I just told you. They've probably already relayed details to Chang, but a few extra tid bits might be useful. So, I want you to repeat this, word for word."

Rock wasn't sure how much more he could take. The world had dimmed all around him, but at the same time it remained harsh and alive. A thousand tiny pinpricks jabbed away at his sinking mood as time slowed; it prolonged his pain at the knowledge that Revy had barely spoken to him all night.

He didn't know how many drinks he'd pored into himself; he'd lost count a while back, and now a thick mist had been draped over his brain, clogging all positive thought, cutting rational examination off in its tracks. All that he could think was that he would give anything to make things better. If only he knew how.

Darkness had swept its hand over the city a couple of hours ago; the bar was awash with sounds and images that he could barely separate. A part of him thought that it was because he was already drunk, but the truth was that he'd been subdued within his own self-pity and frustration since Revy's earlier outburst. That laugh, he thought. The laugh, when she first saw him wearing the fabric monstrosity of blues and oranges, was still the most prominent sound inside his aching head.

His attention had been drawn toward her all night, and from what he could see Revy would fall into long silences of drinking, then would suddenly come up for air with a brief exchange of words with either Dutch or Benny or Bao. She had spoken a handful of words to Rock, none of which were friendly.

Things have gone backwards.

This had conjured up a memory, brining him back to another difficult time between them. Inside the German U-boat. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but he remembered that day so clearly, even if he wished he could file it away in some cerebral cabinet of the forgotten.

Revy had given off waves of hostility, just laying under the layer of her quiet tone; she had been like a predator, just waiting to pounce at Rock if he so much as inched to the left or right. He had been a foreign object that she somehow felt threatened by. He had known all too well what had been on her mind at the time: she wanted to kill him. She had even threatened him with that very act if he ever took the moral high ground with her again. Fortunately for him he had lived to see another day, and the many days and weeks and months that followed it.

The glimmer that had shown in her eyes on the deck of the Lagoon a few hours ago – when he had guiltily helped her out of the water – had without a doubt presented such an element, prowling beneath the dark layers of what made her tick. It resembled the way she had looked at him on the sub, but with two startling differences. Rock could only truly comprehend one of them at this time, as he sat there, deep in attempted thought.

The first was the easy one: he and Revy were friends, of a sort at the very least; more than once had she gone far out of her way to help him when he had been confronted with misfortune, dragging him out of the ashes of whatever damnation crossed his lively path, He couldn't lie, especially to himself; some of those situations had been of his very own creation. When one willing walks into the fire, they are going to get burned, one way or another. Rock had been lucky enough so far in that the flames hadn't so much as singed him, because Revy had always protected him – from others and from himself. She had been there for him when everyone else would have shrugged and turned a blind eye. She had put herself in mortal danger for his sake time and time again.

And what have I ever done for her in return? Have I ever really thanked her for these acts of charity?

She didn't owe him anything. But she had been good to him in her own way, even if she would never admit it. He wasn't a fighter, not in the physical sense of the word, and he suspected that he never would be. Revy had no obligation to him, but still she was there, by his side. He didn't fully understand what this meant, which brought him back to the other thing: she had appeared hurt by his comment on the boat; about the shirt she bought for him, the shirt he was now wearing. He couldn't think of why, but nevertheless, it had happened. He had seen her face, and the way she seemed to blanket her reaction with her usual bravado. How much of it was in fact bravado, he wondered? And how much was real? His answer to the latter: maybe a lot.

But still, there had been something there, suffocated under the chaos behind her slouching body, hiding, afraid to come out and admit its own existence for fear that it might drown in the evils around it. Some part of her was still human – still a person. Rock it was real, he just knew it; buried somewhere out of sight, from the glare of the hateful world she had been born into.

One way or another, he had to talk to her. He had to make her listen to him, and understand that he was sorry. Even if she didn't want him to say the words, he had to make her hear. It might invite more of her scorn towards him, but he would try anyway.

"Hey listen, Revy?" he said.

The Lagoon's gunslinger turned her head. Rock prepared himself as she swung around to look at him, only to be interrupted when he felt something bump against his shoulder. Turning away from her, he looked to see a young woman standing at the bar on his right.

"Sorry about that, luv," she said to him, before looking off to Bao. "Bacardi, straight."

Rock heard Revy sigh, going back to her drink rather than asking him what he wanted. Oddly enough he didn't take his eyes off the woman, a woman who appeared to be Asian, possibly even Chinese, he thought. She had long black hair, tied back by a simple band. Her skin was pale, and her eyes sharp, swimming with a light grey that painted her eastern features in a shade of the unique.

There was something strange about her, as she stood there, waiting for her drink. Rock couldn't help looking because of this nagging feeling; he couldn't help thinking that she was wrong somehow. It was as if she didn't fit, even if her eyes betrayed a sort of vicious instinct beneath her casual exterior. He had never seen her in town before. She definitely wasn't a local. However while she did indeed look like she belonged in the streets of Roanapur, there was still something about her that seemed different.

The simple and yet efficient way she seemed to hold herself as she stood at the bar; there was a shocking ease to it all, but also a subtle promise of pain beneath the surface. She was a fighter. Rock picked up on this almost immediately. But what was it, he wondered, that niggled away at him? It wasn't that instant in which she apologised to him, which was in itself a miracle for this town. There was something else, and no matter how hard he tried, Rock just couldn't break through the initial barrier that surrounded that mystery.

"Can I do something for you?" the woman said.

He had been locked so deeply in thought that at first he didn't realise that she was speaking to him. Slowly he shook himself free of his own pointless wanderings. The woman looked back at him expectantly, although she didn't appear to be angry at his staring, or even confused by it.

"Err… sorry, miss," he said.

"Miss?" she repeated. "Wow, you don't seem local. What's a polite young man like you doing here of all places?"

Rock was left with not knowing what to say at first; the minor fact that her British accent hit his senses with a glaring sharpness – one that didn't seem to match her delicate tone – was all together lost on him for a short time.

"I… sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean to be rude."

"I didn't think you did," she responded politely. "But you were looking at me. Can I ask what you found so interesting? You looked lost in thought just now."

"Sorry– "

"Will you stop apologising?"

Rock heard Revy make a gagging sound, and he felt himself almost saying the words again as he tried to ignore it. He was overcome with a sudden rush of heat that filled his face, a heat that was followed quickly by a smirk that struck the young woman's angelic features.

"I've never seen you around here before," he said.

"Well that might have something to do with me never setting foot in this bar until now," she replied as she paid for her drink, gripping her glass in her right hand. "So, you don't look like much of a cutthroat type."

"I imagine that's pretty obvious, miss," he said.

"Just a bit."

"You do though – no offence. But you're not, are you? Local, I mean."

"You seem quite sure of that."

"You just… seem, like you came from somewhere else," Rock paused. "You fit this place, but at the same time you still look like you just got here. Again, no offence to you, miss."

The woman laughed. "I can't imagine why I'd be offended by that," she stopped talking long enough to knock back half her glass; she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, and despite himself Rock could help but linger on that action for a moment. "You're a bright one, aren't you? You seem to notice things that most wouldn't."

Revy chuckled from his left, and a sting pained his chest as he tried to push those previous thoughts out. The memory of their now strained friendship fought for supremacy, but strangely enough all he wanted at this moment was to set it aside, as just the thought that she hated him right now was too much to linger on for even the briefest of times.

"Well, I don't know about that," he replied, running a hand over the back of his head.

"No, no, it's an innate talent that few people have," she said. "Believe me, I know. And yes, to satisfy your curiosity, I have just arrived here."

Rock cleared his throat. "If you'll pardon me for asking, but what could you want here? It's not exactly the friendliest of places."

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by Revy's stone sober voice. "What my partner here is trying to say, hun, is that not many folks come to this little lion's den for a vacation. There are plenty of other less colourful ways to get yourself killed. So either you're looking for a bullet to the head, or you're here to feed led to someone else."

What the hell is going on with her, he thought? And isn't she usually halfway drunk by now?

Rock kept his silence, watching as the woman looked over to Revy; her large eyes seemed to skim over his partner, looking her up and down for a few seconds.

"Just looking for some people," she said. "That's all."

Revy chuckled. "So, the second one then?"

"If you say so," the woman said, her eyes filling so abruptly with a coldness that actually made Rock flinch. "I'm fairly sure not everyone is the same as you."

"Just the ones that want to live a little longer," Revy growled.

"Hmmm," the woman appeared to Rock to be thinking this exchange over for a second or two. "Then I wonder if my stay might be shorter than I thought? But perhaps this city might surprise me, and I'll be here a while? But I doubt it."

"Whatever," Revy, clearly bored, brought her hand up in a shooing motion as she turned back to her own glass, which Rock found surprisingly full. "Good luck with breathing past this week, hun."

"Same to you," the woman replied. She then finished her rum before looking back at Rock. "Anyway, I thick I'm supposed to be somewhere else at this moment. It was nice meeting you… Mr– "

"Okajima," he said, extending his hand. "Rokuro Okajima. But people call me Rock."

"Rock?" she said his name as if she were tasting the word, savouring it somehow. "It sort of fits, I suppose. My name's Lin, Lin Zhang," she then stepped away from the bar, looking back at him as she began to leave. "Make sure you don't sink before you find whatever it is you're looking for. See you around, Rock."

And then she was gone, vanished as quickly as she had appeared, like a fleeting fog that never was. And the next few seconds were followed by Rock wondering at what she had meant with her last words. And then Revy broke his thoughts to pieces.

"Stupid bitch. I give her two hours before somebody skull fucks her to death in some alley. Tourists."

"Revy," Rock sighed loudly, feeling the stirrings of a serious migraine.

"And what was with you?" Revy barked. "Drooling all over her like some love-sick teenage bitch? God, if I fuckin' cared enough I would have blown her fuckin' head off."

Rock's previous please for forgiveness seemed to sink, as his temporarily sobered mind fell back into sluggish emotion. He felt his grip on his drink tighten, just before the glass began to crack.

"If you don't care then what are you so mad about, Revy? Why are you even talking about it at all?"

Revy slammed her palm against her forehead. "Aggh! Give me a fuckin' break."

"And I wasn't drooling over anyone," he said. "What the hell's going on with you today?"

"You wanna know what's going on, Rock?" she asked, her eyes going wide. "You wanna know? I've had it up to here with being treated like you're fuckin' doormat, ya asshole!"

"Ok," Dutch pushed away from the bar. "I've gotta make a call to Chang. You two try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

Dutch disappeared out back, whilst Benny seemed to shrink away from Revy, who at this point was shaking with anger.

"My doormat?" Rock's oncoming frown was already splitting his head. "What are you talking about? What did I do– "

"Well maybe your small brain didn't hang on to that little piece of info, Rock, but you could try to remember that you knocked me into the fuckin' ocean a few hours ago!" she stood from her stool. "If you could watch what you were doing for two whole seconds it never would have happened, ya clumsy fuck-tard!"

The entire bar seemed to fall into silence as the heated exchange continued, all eyes watching the pair with growing curiosity, no doubt waiting to see what would happen next.

Rock had come to the Yellowflag with nothing but the best intentions, only now things had somehow rotated in the opposite direction. He couldn't keep his newfound anger from coming to the surface, regardless of what the cost might be. All the while he felt that crack in his heart growing wider with every passing second, as the thing he cherished slipped further away.

"That is complete bullshit, Revy!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! You were in a fucked up mood before that ever happened and you know it. Maybe its because I didn't want to wear this hideous fucking shirt, which I'm now wearing, only to have you act like a total bitch a… " he trailed off, realising what he'd said.

What the hell? I've never called her that before. Why did I say that?

Revy's mouth gaped as widely as her eyes. For a few seconds no words were spoken. And then Revy's fist came down, shattering her glass to dripping shards as they ripped into her hand, splattering alcohol and dots of blood across the bar.

"Hey, what the fuck, Revy!" Bao yelled, but was completely ignored.

Revy's eyes lethally narrowed at Rock. "What did you just call me?"

"Hey guys, seriously," Benny bravely cut in. "Let's not– "

"Benny," Revy said, grinding her teeth, never taking her eyes off of Rock. "If you don't wanna eat through a fuckin' straw, I'd shut that mouth of yours, right now."

"Don't take it out on him!" Rock snapped. "All you do is give people a hard time."

After all this time, nothing's changed at all.

He had tried to appeal to her, to make up for his reluctance to wearing the shirt, and for knocking her off the boat after the merc attack. In the entire time he'd known her, all he wanted was to be tolerated, to be accepted. But nothing he could say would work its way through. Things had reverted back to square one.

But perhaps they hadn't, a part of him thought?

She would have shot me for saying that.

Revy didn't speak, nor did she move, to do anything that resembled her typical reactions to the things that annoyed or enraged her. All she did was stand there, as her hand bled into the floor. She looked back at him with a creasing expression of something that he thought to be hatred. He would later realise that it was something else entirely. He would have apologished, but he knew it would do no good. It never did.

"I've got no idea what's happening here, Revy. But I can't keep doing this." Rock turned, leaving Revy at the bar as he staggered toward the doors.

"Rock," Benny called, clearly concerned. "Where are you going?"

"Going to sleep off my headache." He passed through the doors and into the street.

He got several feet down the sidewalk before coming face to face with a familiar person, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Though the massive swell of emotion that was slowly choking him kept him from realising who it was at first.

"Hey, Rock?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face.

His thoughts cleared just enough to acknowledge her. " …Eda."

She pulled a brief half smile, placing her hands on her hips. "My, my, Romeo. You look like you could use another drink."

Well, that's it for now. I hope you liked it. Hopefully an update won't be long - fingers crossed. Bye for now.