I own nothing at all except for the complete series and Roberta's Blood Trail on Blu-Ray! Enjoy!
Ch. 18:The Bitch Named Karma
CRACK!
The sound of the thinner detective's gun smashing against the brunette gunslinger's face filled the room.
Revy, who sat handcuffed to a chair, gave little reaction aside from glaring hatefully at the two men and turning her head to spit out the blood.
"Well, look who went and got tough!" The chubby one of the two men stated, "Last time we all hung out like this we could hardly shut you the hell up. Isn't that right Jeff?"
Jeff twirled his gun once and let out a snort, "That's right, Charlie." He then turned his unsettling gaze back to Revy, "What happened? Hmm?"
At this, Two Hands openly laughed a mocking, barking laugh, leaving the two men frustrated and confused. She had been completely unresponsive thus far to all the methods they had tortured her with in the past. Either she truly was unfazed, or she had developed a damn good poker face. One thing was certain: she had definitely developed a woman's body, and both men eyed it with lecherous intent.
"What happened? I wised up and realized that insignificant little shit stains like you with something to prove are just the tip of the fuckin' iceberg when it comes to all the bad shit in this world."
Yes, her words were anything but empty, and she had come a long way from the frightened little gutter rat that she once was. However, there was still a part of her that couldn't deny that she did fear these men even if that fear no longer pervaded her being and controlled her. She knew that she absolutely would not let them have their way without a fight this time if it came to it.
Charlie sneered at her with a twisted smile, "Hmm. Well, I guess we'll just have to pummel you until it sinks in that you're the only 'shit stain' here!" He cracked his knuckles and Revy let out a growl before Jeff struck her across the face.
"Bring it, ya dumb fucks!"
The question on Revy's mind was: How would she fight back? The handcuffs had already proven too tight to squeeze her wrists out of. They were so tight, in fact, that she felt the warmth of blood seeping down the backs of her hands. At one point in this round of beatings, Charlie tried to grab her chin to force her gaze to his. She took the opportunity to tear into his hand with her teeth. When the other detective tried to pistol whip her in retaliation, she leaned away so forcefully that the chair she was cuffed to fell over with a loud clanging sound.
"Back the fuck off!" she barked, kicking her booted feet at the men to stave off their advance. Revy felt her pulse quicken at the sight of Charlie unbuckling his belt just before Jeff flipped her chair over to get the cuffs around her bleeding wrists. What was this guy doing? Could he really be so fucking careless?
Lagoon's deadeye didn't have to wait long for the answer. Though the man uncuffed her, he was very careful to keep her pinned as he lifted her and shuffled her back towards the rear wall of the interrogation room. Revy continued to struggle against his iron grip on her as he lifted her arms up towards a metal pipe. She found an opening as he was struggling to get her hands over the pipe when he made the mistake of getting his sneering face to close.
Blood gushed from the man's nose in a furious spray after her head whipped sharply and caught him. He staggered back for just a split second, but refused to allow Revy to get free. She felt the burning pain of the handcuffs clicking tightly into place around her wounded wrists and spit in Jeff's face just for good measure. He brought his hand up to his bleeding face and crudely wiped the blood and the spit off before shooting her a menacing glare that went straight through her core.
"Come on, you little bitch! That was just uncalled for. Now…" He gestured towards his partner, who by this point had his pants and underwear down and was quite shamelessly stroking himself as he let his leering eyes roam over her. "You can either cooperate, or this is gonna get even more unpleasant for you."
Revy scoffed, continuing to put on her fearless front while also trying not to gag at the other man's display. There was no way in hell she was gonna placidly let them have their way with her. Jeff advanced on her and reached out to caress her face and she played along for a moment before kicking him swiftly in the balls. She laughed as she watched him writhe in agony on the floor; she was laughing so hysterically that she didn't even hear the curses thrown at her from the other man. Revy only stopped when Charlie landed a punch to her ribs and all the air rushed from her lungs. She paid no attention to him, though. Instead, she continued to look at Jeff, glaring up at her from the floor, and answered his earlier remark.
"Just what the fuck are you gonna do if I don't cooperate?"
Jeff and Charlie both chuckled as Jeff lifted himself from the floor, this time keeping his distance as he relished Revy's well-toned figure.
"You and that little nip boy looked pretty close. I bet it be terrible for you if something were to happen to him." Revy's eyes widened at the detective's thinly veiled threat and she knew he had likely seen the chink in her composure, but she decided to keep playing tough.
"Really? Well, joke's on you, asshole. Come tomorrow, he won't even be in this city anymore."
Jeff chuckled, ready to call the brunette gunslinger's bluff. He was interrupted before he could retaliate, though, by the sound of the door opening followed by a very unhappy shout.
"What the fuck is going on here?"
All three occupants of the room craned their necks toward the door to see three men in neatly pressed black suits. Revy recognized the one black man among them as the CIA agent she'd handed off Changs documents to on Basilan Island. The second one was a fairly tall man with a muscular build and blond hair with brown eyes. The third one, the one who had apparently asked the question, was a short-statured man with dark crew cut hair and green eyes that were flashing with fury. He was also a man of impatience, apparently.
"Well? Do either of you two gentlemen care to tell us what's going on?"
Unfortunately, it was Charlie who recovered his voice first. Revy knew that he was easily the less tactful and more dimwitted of the pair. Also, he wasn't wearing pants.
Oh, this was gonna be good!
"I think you made a wrong turn somewhere, friend." He sneered, causing the dark haired agent to glare even more fiercely. "This is an interrogation room, and we're busy!"
This caused the rest of the agents to glare at the two men and the lead agent let out a low snarl before beginning his next sentence with a contrasting calmness.
"Let's get something straight, 'friend'. I don't give a shit if this room is a god damn broom closet; that woman—" He pointed to Revy, "…Is an asset to the United States government. Now, let that sink in to your tiny little brain." The man took a moment to scrutinize Charlie a bit before speaking again. "Also, I'm sure I speak for your superiors when I say, I'd like to know what kind of interrogation involves being naked from the waist down."
Charlie and Jeff just stared at each other for a few beats as if deciding what to do. After a few moments, Jeff finally relented as Charlie pulled his pants up. "Let her down…" He sighed.
"But…"
"Just do it!"
It couldn't be more obvious that both men were sour at the loss of their play thing. As she was released from the cuffs, Revy mused that she wouldn't be surprised to run into them again on this trip. If that happened, then so be it. She would kill them; just like she should have earlier.
Several minutes later, Revy was burning rubber through a quieter neighborhood of Manhattan on a nice little black Ducati courtesy of Uncle Sam. She would have to rush back to Brighton Beach if she wanted to make sure any more trouble was avoided. Luckily, she still knew the area well enough to know where she could avoid traffic or cut through side alleys.
Revy pondered over recent events as she sped away from Chinatown. No matter how much distance she put between herself and that hell hole of a police station, it baffled her that Langley came to her rescue. Sure, Lagoon crew could at times be considered an "asset" to the good ol' red, white, and blue, but they could just as often be considered a threat. She had to wonder how they knew to be there and why they bothered to intervene. It was probably a waste of effort to dwell on it, she thought to herself with a shake of her head.
Revy continued to ride the throttle for a couple more minutes with her eyes locked on the road in front of her. Unnoticed to her rear was an unmarked gray sedan that had been tailing her since shortly after her swift departure from the 27th Precinct. The sedan was slowly creeping closer toward the motorcycle as the driver waited patiently for the right moment. Then, shortly before Revy could leave the sleepy little neighborhood for a busier avenue, he performed a well-timed PIT maneuver. The front fender of the car bashed against the motorcycle's rear tire. The impact sent the Ducati into a violent spinning swerve and caused the gunslinger to fly off in the opposite direction.
Everything went dark for a brief moment as she came to land in an alley several yards from where the motorcycle came to rest. Revy's head swam as she cracked her eyes open; she could feel herself being dragged further into the alley.
"Huh…?" She moaned in a groggy haze, tilting her head up in an attempt to see who was dragging her.
Revy realized as her head began to clear, that, to her surprise, she was being dragged away by a little boy who couldn't have been much older than about eight.
"He-Hey! Lemme go!" She complained, although she made no move to get away from the boy's grip and her still dazed voice lacked any seriousness. It struck her as she continued to look at him that the boy looked strangely familiar…and he was wearing her guns in two makeshift holsters on his chest. She forgot she had lost those when those bastards took her away.
Speaking of… "They're coming." The boy stated in response to her protest. Bringing a finger up to his lips as he drug her into a darkened part of the alley way. Moments later, they heard footsteps drawing closer.
"Rebecca…" Charlie drawled out in an ominous tone and Jeff finished the call in an equally chilling voice. "Come out come out, wherever you are."
The steps continued closer and Revy noticed that the boy had started to shake with terror. She had done the same thing courtesy of the two men often enough in her youth to know that this boy in front of her was a favorite victim of theirs as well. For reasons she could not understand, that knowledge enraged her all the more.
This stops here!
With a wild look in her eye, she pulled both of her guns from the boy's holster made of crudely wrapped sweater sleeves and jumped out of her hiding place with the guns pointed straight at the two men.
Predictably, both men responded with over confident laughter.
"Oh, come on, Rebecca. You're gonna have to do better than that." Jeff snickered stupidly, not noticing the killer gleam in her eyes that always preceded someone taking a bullet between the eyes courtesy of her cutlass.
"Yeah!" Charlie piped up "We know you won't risk the job you came here for just to kill a cop."
Revy laughed darkly, "Really? Who's to say ol' Langley won't swoop in again and save my ass if I do?" She was bluffing, but it was a convincing bluff given what happened in the police station.
The pair's first reaction was to look at her with widened eyes, but then they regained composure and fixed her with defiant stares. They were just daring her to shoot. She wasn't ready to kill just yet, though. She would fuck with them just a bit first.
"Oh, and would ya at that." Revy smirked, noticing one very important detail, "You two dipshits didn't even bother to bring your guns with ya."
"You bitch." Jeff spat out hatefully
She chuckled, "What's the fuckin' problem, shit stain? This not part o' your plan?" She looked from Jeff over to the more cowardly detective who seemed to have realized much sooner than his thinner partner that they were both about to die. He was rooted to the spot where he stood and there was a noticeable wet spot down the front of his slacks. Revy's murderous eyes bore directly into him as she spoke again.
"Well, guess what, assholes—I am not Rebecca, I am Revy, and I'm your worst fucking nightmare. I'm not afraid of you because you made me, and I'm bigger and badder than all the sad little street brats you rape and beat could make you two motherfuckers.
Just then, a click-clack noise began to build up from above and behind her, and Revy quickly glanced up noticing for the first time that they were almost right below a segment of el train tracks. The train itself was still a decent distance away.
'Perfect timing.' She thought as a shark-like smile spread over her face. She intended to kill them regardless, but the train would at least partially mask the noise and maybe buy her more time before anyone started to pry.
"You guys shoulda never come back for me. I always swore I would kill you if I ever saw you again." The train drew nearer as Revy continued to speak.
"Enjoy these last few seconds and know that you rotten sons o' bitches are gonna die at the hands of the monster you helped to make."
A short few seconds later, the train began its pass over their heads and Revy cocked both guns.
"Bye, fuckers."
Two shots rang out in the alley as blood, bone, and gray matter splattered onto the brick walls and pavement. Revy let out a relieved sigh, realizing that her childhood tormentors were finally dead. She turned to find that the boy was staring at her with awe, as if she had just run a mile while tugging a semi-truck. It was then that she noticed more about this little nook of the alley. In it, there was a small mattress that was covered in various stains. There was a trashcan which Revy assumed was used for warmth, and a couple of pictures of people unfamiliar to the gunwoman, but likely extremely important to the boy (and likely dead). It was a living situation all too familiar to Revy and she was surprised to find that the sight pulled at the heartstrings she had thought long ago severed.
The last thing to catch her eye was a plush bear that was nearly as tall as the boy. The bear was quite a bit less dirty and ragged than all of the other items. In fact, the bear looked just like the one she had tossed away at Coney Island just yesterday. That's when it clicked. She had briefly seen the boy yesterday before she got rid of the bear. He must've assumed that she had done so out of kindness. She remembered what it was like to be around his age and on the street; nothing she had would've been too much to give just to have someone show her the kindness that she desperately searched for.
Those memories compelled her to do for the boy what she wished someone would've done. No one was around to see this anyway so it wasn't as if her reputation would suffer.
Revy knelt in front of the kid, with a watery sheet of unshed tears just barely visible in her eyes and spoke. "Listen, kid: Don't grow up to be a killer. You do whatever you have to do to make it off the fuckin' streets, but don't use a gun if you don't have to. You got that?"
The boy hung onto her every word, nodding at her when she finished. "Good." Revy stood to leave and turned on her heel, adding a cryptic afterthought before walking away. "Oh, and remember, Coney Island is the best place in the city."
A while after the ordeal in the Alley, Revy finally pulled up to the hotel in Brighton Beach on the banged up crotch rocket. She wasted no time in parking the bike and heading to the lobby. After the kind of day she'd had, she really needed some quality time at the bar.
The hotel lobby itself looked like it hadn't been updated since some time in the 60's. The carpet was faded burgundy and gold and the walls were polished oak with the occasional scuff marks and ornately patterned wood carvings. Revy didn't give a shit about any of that, though. Her only interest was the bar, and it didn't take her long to sniff out the alcohol.
When she reached the bar, she found Dutch, Benny, and Rock all together in their customary seats. Rock was the first to spot her as she made her way to the empty seat at his side, although Dutch was the first to acknowledge her.
"You look like shit, Two-Hands." He took a sip of the whiskey in his glass, "Where have you been, anyway." Dutch already knew, courtesy of Rock, still he couldn't help but prod at his longest running employee.
"It's not important." Revy shrugged, giving Rock a subtle glance that told him quite a bit had transpired since they parted before she flagged down the bar tender and ordered her drink.
"So, what'd I miss?" Revy asked, taking a long swig of her usual 151.
Benny answered, "Not much really; just the beginning of WWIII."
"Are you fucking serious?" Revy turned to give her full attention to Dutch and Benny, "Looks like that Shinji guy has a few more screws loose than we thought. What the hell did he do?"
"Chang called about an hour ago," Dutch replied, taking another pull of his drink. "The Yakuza launched a surprise attack on Hotel Moscow…apparently with some help from the Italians."
Revy let out a long laugh, "Man this shit just keeps getting better! Fry-face'll probably torch half the fucking city by herself when she gets back to Roanapur."
"Yeah, especially considering some of her closest comrades were killed in the attack, and Boris is barely alive." Benny added, "Between Hotel Moscow, the Triads, the Albanians, and the Yakuza it'll be a miracle if there's anything left of the city once the fighting's over."
Revy nodded in agreement and then looked around as if realizing something, "Hey, where is Balalaika, anyway? I didn't see the limo outside when I came in."
"After the call came in, she went straight to the Russian embassy to try to make travel arrangements to get us out of the city faster. The Albanians are sticking to their original travel plan; they should be in Roanapur in about two days."
It went like this for several more minutes.
The four members of the Lagoon Company sat at the bar draining their liquor and discussing the clusterfuck that waited for them back home. Rock wondered exactly what had happened to Revy once she was left with those two detectives; he had to assume that she had taken some kind of a beating from the bruises and cuts on her face. Not to mention the torn leather of her jacket and the exaggerated tears of her previously frayed jeans. There was also the matter of how she got away from them. What strings did Eda pull exactly? He would have to ask Revy about it later when they were alone. The look she'd given him earlier told him she intended to tell him anyway.
Eventually, the sound of high heels clicking on the hard floor was heard near the entrance to the all but empty bar and the four occupants turned to find Balalaika standing before them. She was as composed as ever, but her eyes betrayed the rage that they all knew she would be feeling. Her eyes promised pain and suffering for every last member of the Yakuza invaders.
"Lagoon Company; it's time. There is a private jet waiting at JFK." She spoke to them as if they were soldiers under her command in a tone that left no room for comment and swiftly turned on her heel leaving them to follow as Dutch threw a wad of cash at the bar tender.
Later, once the private jet had been wheels up for a bit, Balalaika sat back in her well cushioned seat. She brooded over the predicament with the Matsuzaki character. There seemed to be no real pattern to his strategy; that made him an even more formidable foe. However, even the biggest opponents still had their shortcomings. If she and Chang had any hope of winning, they would have to expose some sort of weakness. He had clearly found one of hers. She and her men were so accustomed to the pragmatic thinking of a soldier that they easily overlooked a more out of the box means of attack. That, and her soldiers were readily willing to die for her causes, which amounted to slaughter in the face of such a practiced tactician.
Shinji had a brother that he seemed to care for enough for revenge, but Balalaika sensed that wasn't his motivation. Perhaps Hotel Moscow only appeared to be his primary objective. If that assumption held, then maybe his own pride and determination to kill the pair from Lagoon Company could prove to be his downfall.
She was interrupted from her thoughts by the shrill ring of her cell phone, which she was quick to answer.
"Speak." Balalaika barked into the receiver impatiently.
"Hello…Sofiya." Her eyes widened in shock at the name…her real name. Shinji was good; very good. No one except what family she had left in Russia knew that name as she'd used her ties with the Russian mob to have a chunk of her personal information redacted years ago. In spite of this knowledge and the fact that the man on the other line was responsible for the deaths of a large number of her comrades, she smirked.
"Ah, Mr. Matsuzaki. This is a surprise."
A sinister smirk spread across Shinji's face, "An unpleasant one, I hope."
Balalaika glared even though he could not see, "I assume you're calling to gloat about butchering my soldiers."
Shinji chuckled, "Actually, I'm calling in the hope that I might convince you to surrender. You should know that the Matsuzaki Yakuza, while it is enough to crush you, is not alone in this fight."
"And you should know better, Mr. Matsuzaki. I'm a well-connected woman. Even across the ocean I know about your involvement with the Italians." Balalaika clipped a cigar and lit it, taking a hefty puff as she continued to speak.
"You should also know that I have acquired some new allies as well. Apparently, there were a lot of criminal organizations left out to dry when you began to seize your power."
Shinji sighed, he knew that this would've come up sooner or later. He was well aware that his methods were very unpopular with quite a few other factions. Case in point: Hotel Moscow.
"Ah, well, be that as it may, I do have one other argument. You see," He said, pointing a gun at an unkown Russian's head from his end of the line, "You're not the only one who's done a bit of travelling." The line went silent for a moment before Balalaika heard the muffled groans of a man in the background.
"Can you guess where I am, Sofiya? I'll give you a hint: You're dear grandfather has been quite the chatty little man."
Balalaika's mouth fell open in shock and her eyes filled with rage as her quivering hand struggled to grip the phone properly. "No…" Came the whisper from under her breath. He remained one of the few people from her old life that she still could say she cared about even though she could no longer bring herself to speak to him.
"Now, it's your choice." Shinji spoke with a sly grin as he cocked the gun in his hand, "You can surrender to me and leave the city, or you can let him die."
She sat frozen in her seat. Neither option was acceptable in her mind. To refuse this offer would be to have her grandfather's blood on her hands as well as all of the soldiers that she had left and all of the soldiers who would die upon her return. To accept would be to lose everything that she had worked for in Roanapur and subject herself and her soldiers to the same shame that they endured after the Soviet-Afghan war. In addition, all of the blood shed to secure her position in Thailand's underground would mean nothing. In the end, however, she found herself unable to back down from Shinji's challenge, no matter how badly she might regret the choice later.
Her next words were spiteful and full of malice towards the man on the other end, "I will not back down to the likes of you for any price."
"Very well then."
The last thing that Balalaika heard before the line went dead was a gunshot.
As promised, here's chapter 18! I hope you enjoyed it! R&R!