Alright! Lock & Load, Chapter Thirteen's comin' at ya! The action's gonna be kicked up a notch starting with this chaper! Anyway, as always: read, enjoy, and review!
Ch. 13: The Land of Liberty
"ALRIGHT! I hope you like hope you like lead for breakfast, motherfuckers!"
Several cars had swerved to get away from the van at the sight of an intimidating woman busting through the rear doors. The Yugo and the Volvo kept to their positions; each of the occupants wearing similar teeth clenching grimaces upon their faces as they each grasped at their own firearms. All of this took place in the span of a couple seconds after Revy had appeared to them, and she didn't give a single one of them a chance to fully draw a weapon.
With a twitch of her finger, Revy released a hail of bullets onto the green Yugo directly behind the van. Each of the bullets impacted the hood in a straight line and caused the passenger to duck into cover to avoid the strafing shots while his partner swerved in an attempt to get out of her line of fire.
While Revy toyed with the Yugo, the occupants of the Volvo were afforded the time to draw on the gunslinger and Benny jumped slightly when bullets made impact with the van's rear quarters directly behind his back. Luckily, the body of the vehicle was reinforced. There was more gunfire exchanged with Boris taking evasive action and flooring the pedal while Revy worked with his actions to make sure that the enemy gunfire wouldn't breach the van's cabin.
She had to hand it to these guys, they were pretty good drivers, taking great care to evade her line of fire. However, it was only a matter of time until one of them screwed up. A shark like grin split her features amid the rain of semi-automatic gunfire as she spotted her opening. The driver of the blood red Volvo had made a careless error and momentarily drifted back into her sights; as it happened, right back in the direction of the Yugo. She chuckled fiendishly. One shot was all she would need. Revy squeezed the trigger of the Cutlass in her left hand and the Volvo driver's head erupted in a shower of gray matter and dark red gore as the bullet tore a hole through his forehead and out the back.
The passenger of the car was absolutely crippled in fear and shock at his partner's sudden death. Even as his car veered off course toward the Yugo, he continued to stare at the fatal wound with his mouth agape. Then, at the very last second before impact, the sight of the other car coming rapidly closer jarred him from his stupor. He leapt at the steering wheel and yanked it hard to right, causing the cars to scrape their sides roughly upon impact and a certain gunwoman to groan in frustration at her plan gone to shit.
She fired off a few more rounds at the Volvo while the only remaining occupant hustled to shift behind the wheel and used the gun in her right hand to fend off the occupants of the Yugo as they continued to take shots at her. After about four rounds, the gunwoman finally managed to pop a tire on the Volvo and the driver lost control. The car veered into a guard rail and flipped until it was sitting on another stretch of road where an oncoming truck promptly smacked into the upturned vehicle.
Revy wasted no time turning both of her guns on the remaining car with a cocky grin on her face, but when she pulled the triggers, there came an ominous clicking sound as both slides locked back into place. Her eyes went wide at the realization that she was completely exposed and defenseless.
"Shit!" She knew that to reach out to shut the rear doors would only leave her more vulnerable, but retreating back into the van would expose everyone else in the back to any oncoming fire. She was a sitting duck to their fire as they positioned themselves directly behind the van once again. It was only by sheer luck that she hadn't been hit.
"Revy!" Dutch had realized what happened and was at her side in an instant, taking shots at the Yakuza peons with his trusty revolver. His hired gun didn't waste any time taking his cue and briefly withdrew back into the shelter of the van before coming out to fight beside Dutch. In her brief absence, Dutch had managed to put six impressive holes in the car, but apparently their luck had not quite run out. Revy was about to change that.
"I owe ya one, Bossman!" Revy called to Dutch over the sound of gunfire while she started her assault anew and he reloaded this time.
"Don't mention it." Dutch smiled, watching his longest running employee work. " Keepin' my best gun in good health is good for all of us."
Revy chuckled, "Fuckin' got that right." Then with her next shot, she hit the remaining driver straight through the chest, strafing the dashboard and tagging the remaining Japanese thug when the car veered further into her line of fire.
"And then there were none." Dutch spoke as they both took a moment to survey the victory. "Fuckin' A." Each of them leaned out and grabbed one of the door handles and pulled the back doors to a close again. "Everyone alright, back here?" Dutch questioned of his crew as he took his seat back-to-back with the front passenger seat.
Though unharmed, both the office boy and the hacker did look slightly worse for wear at having to endure this peculiar situation where both of them were thrust into the line of fire with only Revy's body to protect them from any stray bullets.
Benny reached a shaky hand up to straighten out his glasses. "Amazingly, there are no wounds here. We're just a little shaken." Rock seconded that sentiment from his place next to Revy on the driver's side of the vehicle.
"That was quite the impressive show, Two-Hands." Balalaika opined from the front passenger seat, only turning her head slightly to regard the gunwoman from the corner of her well trained eye.
"It was nothin'." Revy dismissed the compliment, reaching her pocket to fetch a pack of Camels along with a lighter.
The smell of tobacco filled the van as Revy lit a cigarette and exhaled a large cloud of carcinogenic smoke. In what seemed to be a domino effect, the other three members of Lagoon Company pulled out their own smokes and lit them in succession until Boris remained as the only person in the vehicle without a tobacco product of some kind between his fingers.
"Shit!"
The brief chime of an office telephone was heard as it was swept sharply off of a desk.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" A well-dressed foot in expensive brown leather loafers made contact with a file cabinet with a resounding metallic booming noise. Another man of youthful appearance with sharp features and bowl-cut brunette hair stood watching the display looking thoroughly wrung-out; like the office appliances were being treated to a similar punishment as the one he'd been on the receiving end of only minutes before.
"SHIT!" With one final violent motion, an older "gentle" man in a business suit with salt and pepper hair was left panting in the middle of his office just after laying waste to a potted Hibiscus plant. The younger agent was hesitant to speak, but decided to try and soothe his older boss.
"Sir…" He began tentatively, only to be met with the enraged, widened eyes of his boss, as if he was just daring the younger man to open his mouth.
"Don't you think you're overreacting?" He asked flatly, "I mean—" The older man cut the junior agent off. His tone was surprisingly calm given the state he was in.
"Do you know what it's like on my side of the desk, Agent Simmons?"
"…No, sir." Simmons was thoroughly unenthused, almost completely certain that he was about to be reamed once again despite the senior agent's near pleasant tone. In his time working for the agency, he'd come to forge the belief that his boss was a man in dire need of anger management. He could hardly blame his colleague if there was any truth to the report that she was going rogue.
"I'll tell you." He smirked in a way that was akin to a dog baring its teeth before leaping to take a chunk out of some adversary. He pointed an outstretched index finger at the desk and continued. "All day long I get to deal with bureaucrats and their goddamn red tape! I have to kiss the asses of some of the biggest pieces of shit on capitol hill just so I can make sure that those incompetent dipshits don't screw with our fucking division in the wrong damn ways!"
He was livid again. In the middle of his tirade, he had turned back around to his desk to pick up a stress toy that he'd begun squeezing ferociously, but he was far from done.
"After all of that bullshit, I get to go home and deal with my bloodsucking ice queen bitch of an ex-wife!"
Simmons just stood in front of the door to the office with desensitized boredom. Any second now, he knew the real subject of his anger would come up and he was simply waiting for it. He was waiting in anticipation to take yet another verbal flogging and be done with it, but he didn't have to wait long.
"And if all that wasn't enough, now I have to fucking deal with the fact that one of my best goddamn agents may have gone rogue…and you didn't say anything about it for four…fucking…days!
The younger agent hung his head with a long-suffering sigh, "Sorry sir."
The boss' eyes widened in rage as the apology served only to aggravate him further and he threw the stress toy that he'd been squeezing into a wall to his left. "Don't you fucking 'sorry' me! This is a goddamned intelligence agency for Christ's sake! Just what the fuck am I supposed to say to the Director the next time he asks why this division hasn't tracked down Greyfox? 'Oh, gee, sorry director. That agent doesn't work for us anymore.'" Again he finished his rant and was left standing in the middle of the room panting while attempting to get a grip on his extremely short temper. Once Agent Simmons felt it safe enough, he spoke again.
"You know, the contact reported that the agent planned to come back to the states. If she's planning to resign, she would be completely within her rights. What are you going to do then?"
In response to this bit of overlooked information, Agent Paulson, as his nameplate stated, let out a frustrated growl and brought a fist down on his desk. He offered no immediate answer to Simmons, but in his mind he knew what he would do. If that bitch fucked shit up for him, she would pay for it.
After several deep, calming breaths, he opened his eyes and looked back toward the door to address his agent in a much more subdued manner.
"The boss is breathing down my neck as it is; Simmons…my ass is on the damn line. I can't afford to let just let this go if that is the case."
The younger agent arched a rather confused eyebrow in an expression that also conveyed deep worry at the possible implications of the other man's words. None of the conclusions he could draw in his mind were very comforting. Heaving one final sigh, Simmons turned on his heel to exit the shamefully ransacked office, shutting the door behind himself.
Meanwhile, in the very same city that the agent of interest was assigned to, two figures stood in a previously unused warehouse in the loading docks near the water's edge. Not too far away, there was a large merchant vessel adorned with the inverted tri-force symbol of the ancient Hojo samurai clan along its hull as well as the words "King of Shadows" written in Japanese kanji. Back in the warehouse, the eponymous "king" was discussing business with his right hand, Shimi.
The lumbering Japanese yakuza leader looked cool and confident as ever, yet Shimi appeared a little restless…maybe even a bit irritated about something.
"Sir, the Russian woman has left the city."
An odd smile crept across the leader's lips while he processed that information. The plan was going perfectly thus far, now he need only to be just a little patient for the next couple of days before he put the next part of his plan in motion.
"That's good." The pair went over to the makeshift living area at the edge of the warehouse and sat in seiza on either end of a small table with a lone bottle of sake in the middle and a chess board on the side where Shinji sat. Shimi took it upon himself to pour for the both of them, but didn't get as far as drinking from his own cup. He had something to ask, but didn't feel at liberty to speak freely on the matter. He resigned himself to quiet thoughts as he looked into the depths of the clear liquid. It surprised him slightly when he heard a quiet chuckle from across the table.
"You look like you have something to say, Shimi." Shinji had noted the furrowed brows and the far away look in the other man's eyes.
"It's nothing, boss." He spoke with a subservient tone, not bringing his gaze to meet the Yakuza boss' eyes. Again, Shinji chuckled, "Come now, how long have we known each other?"
The Shogun nodded his concession and sipped his sake before explaining himself fully. Shinji always did have a way of seeing through him. "It's just that…I fear that you're methods—well…I'm afraid you might be testing the loyalty of our men a bit too much."
Shinji nodded, it was something that he had considered as well, but for this particular phase of his plan, there was no avoiding it.
"Our shooters know that if they get sent out on an assignment, it will likely be their last." Shimi continued, "It's starting to make some of them a bit restless."
Shinji simply looked his lieutenant in the eye after downing his cup of sake. Perhaps it was time to start being a bit more open with Shimi if he wanted to avoid testing his second's loyalty too much. "Everyone is expendable." The last time he had uttered the words had been three weeks ago, but Shimi remembered instantly the conversation in this very room. "If we want to end this stalemate," Shinji picked up a piece from the chessboard and examined it closely as he turned it over in his fingers, "then some of our pawns must be sacrificed.
A sudden realization came to the younger Japanese man as he thought about those words, reaching out to make a move on the board in the long-running game the pair had been playing sporadically for some time. "That's why you're using that Lagoon Company instead of just killing them all. To get rid of our worst forces and sharpen the skills of the rest." His eyes lit up at the thought. Perhaps there was some method to this man's madness, after all.
"Yes, that's exactly it." Shinji moved his rook a couple spaces to capture one of Shimi's pawns. The other man took note of his darkening expression before he spoke again.
"Make no mistake that gunwoman and the businessman will die for the role they played in my brother's death. For now, though, the Russians and the Chinese must be dealt with, and before we can properly start a war with Chang we must eliminate his ally."
Shimi nodded in agreement, moving another piece and almost trapping Shinji's queen with his knight. "Agreed. It goes without saying that we have an opportunity to strike while the Russians get re-oriented in her absence, but how much time will that give us?"
The Yakuza leader grinned widely at his second, "That was a nice move…speaking of sacrificing pawns, but not quite good enough." He moved his queen out of the way to a safe distance while taking another of Shimi's pawns in the process. "If I am correct, we should strike within the next twenty-four hours. After that, the real fight will begin."
The boss gazed at the chessboard as the gears turned in his head. Hotel Moscow was his priority, and yet, he sensed that the two from the Lagoon Company held the power to turn the tide of this war. In particular, he was interested in the businessman. He had been most amused at seeing him wield a sword in direct contradiction to every bit of research he had done on him, but at the same time, Shinji could see that there was a huge amount of warrior's potential within the young man…just waiting to be unlocked.
Yes…before this was over, they would have a duel.
"Hey, Rock! What the fuck?" Revy called as she emerged from the bathroom of their shared hotel room wearing naught but a towel, growing just a bit irritated that her partner hadn't even acknowledged her. "We're in New York fucking City and you're all spaced out doing that samurai shit?" Rock hadn't even made any attempt to show that he had heard her as he continued to strike at the air with his weapon. They had taken a private jet belonging to Hotel Moscow, and so, travelling to another country with their weapons had been somewhat easier than it otherwise would've been.
"Hey! Earth to Rock!" Revy called from behind him, throwing her towel at the air next to his head only to have him strike and cut through the towel in what seemed to be a reflex. Even so, it had the desired effect and the trance broke once he realized what just happened. "Oh…Sorry, Revy." He sheathed the blade and turned to face his partner who, by this time, was clad in a red White Zombie t-shirt and panties. "Shenhua told me not to get soft while I'm in the States."
"Hmm." Revy scoffed as she pulled on a pair of jeans and her boots and then reached over to grab her cutlass. Rock knew what would come next. "And that's what you call staying sharp?" she leveled her gun at him, but made no move to pull back the hammer. "How 'bout I give you some real training?" she smirked, finally finding the hammer with her thumb and pulling it back as Rock's eyes widened.
"R-Revy! This isn't Roanapur! You can't just pull out your gun and shoot." There was an edge of hysteria as the businessman tried to reason with his partner, sensing that she actually did intend to pull the trigger and severely doubting his capability to slice through a bullet. His grip on the hilt of the sword and the sheath tightened in preparation, but the volatile gunwoman simply laughed and lowered the weapon.
"Relax, I'm just fuckin' with ya, dipshit." Revy deftly spun the gun around her trigger finger a couple times before placing it back into its holster. "Anyway, I let you show me the sights in Japan; it's only fair that you get the tour of the Big shitty Apple." She winked at him and reached over to retrieve her black leather jacket from the bed, putting it on as she shoved him out the door. She wasn't ready to admit it yet by any stretch of the imagination, but, truth be told, these times where it was just the two of them made her feel alive again. It pained her to think that Roanapur could taint Rock the same as everyone else and take away her last connection to any kind of "decent" life.
"I thought you hated this city." Rock pointed out once they'd begun their walk down the hallway. The moments when Revy allowed him brief glimpses of her hideous past had been few in the time he'd started working for Dutch, but it was clear that she detested this city. Even now behind her carefully crafted poker face, the businessman knew that his partner was aching to leave this place.
Revy's response to him was a light-hearted chuckle that anyone who didn't know her might believe to be sincere, followed by equally carefree words. "Come on, partner, just because this place is a fuckin' shithole doesn't mean there's nothin' fun to do." And there it was: Deflection, the inevitable action that Rock had been waiting for. It was one of the gunslinger's more favored defense mechanisms—reserved for keeping unpleasant memories buried and pushing her crew mates away when they came too close for her liking. Over time, the salaryman had learned to recognize it for what it was and came to be able to push past the defense. This time, however, he simply went along with it and continued the conversation.
Rock nodded his concession and asked of her, "So, where are Dutch and Benny, anyway?" They reached a bank of elevators at the end of their hallway, each one with gold finished doors and frames built into a marble wall. Rock reached out to push the call button and Revy reached into her jacket to retrieve her pack of smokes while they waited.
"Dutch went upstairs to the penthouse to talk shop with Fry-face. Benny's holed up in his room chatting with that hacker bitch." She grimaced in disgust at both the thought of the sexual nature of Benny's chat sessions, and at his choice in women. Rock took the lit cigarette she offered him and gave a small laugh at her annoyance. It was an action that only managed to incur the hot-tempered woman's ire.
"Something fuckin' funny?" Rock had to suppress another laugh at the sight of her being so worked up about something so utterly insignificant, though she had been known to kill for less.
"Well, I guess you could say that it's amusing to me that you hate that girl so much."
"Hey!" Revy let out an indignant cry, "I don't hate her. She's just really fucking annoying."
The pair continued to bicker and banter playfully all the way down to the cab. Once inside, Revy had promptly blindfolded a surprised Rock and commanded him, under threat of bodily harm, not to remove the fabric until they reached their destination. Rock was certain that given Revy's harsh demeanor, and the exact wording of those threats, the poor driver must've thought he was an accomplice to a crime. He wasn't sure how long the ride lasted, but they had traveled what seemed like a fairly lengthy distance. The white collar could feel the bumps in the road, the twists, and the turns as he allowed himself to relax back into his seat.
Finally, after an extended car ride, he felt his weight shift forward slightly as the cab came to a stop. Revy reached forward and paid the driver before pulling Rock from the vehicle; it wasn't time to let him see just yet.
"Revy…where are we?" Rock asked after walking several steps arm-in-arm with the gunwoman down what he assumed was a sidewalk. Revy picked up on the slightly nervous tone in his voice and gave his arm a light tug for reassurance, though it was masked behind her need to change direction. "Just a little longer, Rocky-Baby. You'll see."
True to her word, the pair soon came to a stop and Revy placed a hand on his blindfold but stopped just short of removing it, "Listen Rock," her tone had suddenly gone to its menacing quality and, having no clue what he'd done or what was about to happen, her partner's breath hitched in his chest and he let out a barely audible squeak. She resumed her speech in that same tone, "I don't know what you think that pisant little fair was back in Japan, but it wasn't anything 'like a fuckin' carnival.'
At this point, Rock had grown even more confused and his brows were nearly raised into his hairline as he failed to jump onto Revy's train of thought, "Revy…?" In the back of his mind, he registered that he could hear the sound of happy screaming and the creaking of heavy machinery. He realized that she must've brought him to a carnival.
"No, Rock." Her grip on the blindfold tightened, "You're going to learn what a carnival is!" She yanked the cloth from his eyes and suddenly Rock was greeted by the sight of a large wooden roller coaster flanked by various other smaller carnival rides. He knew enough about Western culture to know about the concept of amusement park and carnival rides and it had always been something he wanted to try, but, the culture he grew up in had never afforded him the opportunity. This was actually his first time seeing a roller coaster in person.
"Welcome to Coney Island, partner."
Aaaaand done! Thanks for reading! Please R&R!