—xXx—

Chapter 8: The Future And The Past

—xXx—

"Dutch!" Revy called out to the boss of the Lagoon Company. "The next time Balalaika says she has a 'small' job for us, you better demand the cash up front!" She opened her mouth to keep talking but was cut off by the roar of gunfire from the re-installed twin M2 machine guns. Behind them, two speed boats dodged Rock's stream of Magnesium-tipped tracer fire. Every 6th bullet in the ammunition belt for each gun lit up the pre-dawn air and rippled towards the Lagoon's pursuers.

"These bastards really know what they are doing!" She called over the onboard radios. With each burst of fifty-caliber gunfire, Rock forced the boats to evade into Revy's M79 Grenade launcher. The men at the controls of these boats were significantly better than the rabble Luac hired to take them out the month before. This morning they were able to evade Revy's skillful attacks at the expense of falling further behind the PT boat. The chasers' heaviest weapons were 7.62mm FN battle rifles, and while effective against soft targets, the Lagoon's minimal armor was enough to stop the bullets even at a range of two hundred meters.

While the lighter speed boats were faster than the Lagoon Rock and Revy's effective defense was keeping them from coming close-aboard. With at top speed of just over forty knots, there were very few vessels that could match the Lagoon's speed, but these deep-hulled boats were somehow keeping pace with them.

"They must have bigger engines than we first thought." Dutch commented to Benny, who was strapped into his chair in front of his computer. "That means that they cannot have good range as they must have sacrificed their fuel tank size in order to fit their engines into those hulls."

"Then we can run until they have to turn back when their tanks run dry." Benny smiled tersely. "These guys aren't using any radio gear. Negative for VHF and short wave radio traffic. They must be using something else to communicate."

"They have a few antenna about a meter and a half long on each boat." Rock reported via radio.

Below the gunfire and below a solid deck made of steel and wood, Benny's electronic gear blared to life, the lights glowed to life as danger orange. The many years of salt water attacked the copper wires, leeching blue-green rust onto the floor of Benny's room behind the deep racks of electronics. As the metal wires underwent galvanic corrosion, their ability to conduct electricity was reduced. When the electronic warning systems tried to send a current through the damaged wires, they quickly warmed up, heating the plastic insulation beyond the polymer's melting temperature. In an instant they flashed into flame, exposing the wire further. Almost immediately the high voltage in the wire arced to the nearby metal racks.

Benny's first indication that something was wrong, was the acrid stench of burning plastic, mixed with the faint smell of ozone. "Dutch, I've got a short somewhere back here!" His cry over the radio jerked the ship's Captain from his concentration.

"Say again, Benny-boy?" The large black man commanded, not taking a hand of the wheel to press the ear piece further down his ear canal.

"I'm blind back here!" Benny began flicking the power switches closed to immediately shut down the computer and other electronic systems that helped the Lagoon become one of the most effective ships on the ocean for what the Lagoon Company did. If he left the systems online then the power coursing through the shorted wire could cause even worse damage to the hardware. The cost of replacing all the hardware compared with operating the boat without long-range communications and radar was a no-brainer, but it never felt good to reduce capabilities, especially when currently involved in a firefight. "We lost coms and radar, and it might take hours to find and repair the damage! I can't do it while we are bouncing around on the waves like this!"

"Shit." Dutch muttered as he heard the bad news. "Rock! Revy! You copy that?"

Brief affirmative responses, punctuated by automatic gunfire was all he needed to continue. "You two are going to have to replace Benny as my eyes back there. Tell me which way to go and be damn sure you don't mix up Port and Starboard!"

"You worry too much, Boss-man!" Revy grinned into her radio. "Just keep driving like you always do and leave the rest to us!"

—xXx—

"You look a little roughed up, Dutch." An amused Balalaika commented on the Lagoon Company's owner. "I take it things didn't go as expected."

"Revy wanted me to pass on a request that in the future, all small jobs be paid for in full before the job starts." Dutch took a long drag from his cigarette. "I even agree with her on this one, surprisingly. Usually when her temper gets ahold of her she comes up with rather absurd ideas."

"Well, I'm happy to be accommodating for such a reliable and trusted group, but paid in full is rather excessive." Balalaika snipped an end from her trademark cigar and produced a gold plated lighter to ignite the tobacco. After establishing a smoldering flame, she leaned back and looked over her desk. For such a large man, Dutch was well coordinated and seemed at ease with how his body draped over the slightly under-sized chairs in the Mafia head's office. She rolled the proposal through her mind and came to a conclusion soon enough. "I think 80 percent is more than fair for jobs under twenty-five thousand. Anything more and we will have to revert to our standard fifty up front and fifty upon completion with the usual insurances."

Insurance was a laughable idea outside the Russian hotel. Scams and the shear volume of murders, accidents, and deaths in Roanapour would bankrupt a normal insurance company in weeks. But under Balalaika, her men and by extension, those she frequently employed fell under her protection. If they were injured on the job to the point where they could no longer work, they were compensated. If they were killed on the job, then their family, next of kin, or designated persons were paid a fixed sum as life insurance.

"That sounds reasonable." Dutch nodded to himself. "Revy will be fine with it after a trip to the Yellow Flag."

"Speaking of Revy, how is she doing with Rock?" Balalaika slid her fingers through her long hair, pulling out several tangles that accumulated over the course of a day. Outside the sun was a large orange circle, rapidly approaching the horizon. In the brief few minutes until it was gone, it irradiated Balalaika's office through a wall of tall windows. The effect of bright sunlight and dark shadows accentuated the mood of the Russian's office and would have intimidated a lesser man than Dutch. Balalaika was used to getting her way and combined with her ability to do what she wanted, it made her status as head of Hotel Moscow a natural result of her accomplishments. That these accomplishments might be some of the most horrific sins human kind could imagine did not change the fact that her power was palpable in her domain.

"Revy has been surprisingly docile towards Rock." Dutch took a final drag from his cigarette and stubbed it out in the thoughtfully provided ashtray. "There is something about him that affects everyone whom he meets."

"I found him rather interesting." Balalaika admitted in a not-so-subtle probe for more information. "I have not seen anyone in this city outside my men capable of piloting a helicopter, much less than one designed for war." She drew in a lungful of aromatic tobacco from her cigar and let the smoke stream from her nose. "His story as a simple salary man checked out on even our most probing background searches."

"You checked him?" Dutch asked, somewhat surprised. He had never even heard rumors of Hotel Moscow using its resources to look into someones past. Everyone on the street knew that Hotel Moscow collected information on anyone and everyone, but it was widely assumed that this only was for the time someone was connected to Roanapour. Their small finders fee for info was what held together the economy of some of the city's slums. Despite what people said about the Russians, they were one of the major stabilizing factors in Roanapour's tumultuous day-to-day life.

"There were simply too many questions." Balalaika explained away her actions. "Unfortunately it only created more questions that are even more disturbing." She paused, leaning back in her chair. "There is no reason for him to have the skills he has. No military service, no periods of unemployment where he might have received the necessary training."

The two stared at the other trying to read their carefully controlled body language. For several long seconds, neither said anything. Finally Dutch broke the silence. "If you are trying to ask me what I know about Rock, then I'm afraid it is not much." The large man sighed, letting his shoulders droop and remove some tension from his neck. "Revy and Benny are better judges of character than myself. Both of them have decided to let Rock into their lives without much fuss." Dutch smirked, a thought coming to him. "That's not to say that Revy hasn't shot at him a few times in anger, but for the most part we have been getting along well. The last time that we tried to welcome someone to our company, Revy was begging to kill him before the first day was out. Benny took a little longer to make up his mind, and I can honestly say I have never seen such passive aggressiveness before. It was the little things that Benny did to drive him away that always surprised me. Of course the fact that he was a CIA plant didn't come out until Verrocchio had him strung up on the bridge." Dutch referred to the bridge on the main land route into Roanapour which typically had a noose to warn away those unwanted in the city.

"So you are saying you don't know anything else about him?" Balalaika asked.

"I never said that." Dutch replied. "An employer has to maintain a certain degree of privacy between himself and his employees if there is to be any trust in the company. If I sold out my employees I would have been shot dead years ago." Dutch paused to let that sink in for a moment. "What I am saying is that whatever secrets Rock has, he hasn't given any indication that he wants anything more than he has. He has been a valuable employee who has improved everyone around him."

—xXx—

Rock and Revy walked through the market district carrying several bags of groceries. Or rather Rock was the one carrying the bags while Revy casually flipped through a notebook of orders and deliveries. "Got everything checked off for today partner." Revy snapped the notebook closed with a flourish and added it to one of the bags Rock was carrying.

"Are you going to help carry some of these?" Rock asked, looking pointedly at Revy who was refusing to look at him.

"Rock, remind me who was shot in the shoulder the other day?" Revy asked in a way that only Rock would hear here. Advertising weakness in Roanapour was asking for trouble no matter what.

"But what about a bag with your other arm?" Rock replied with his own attempt to crack Revy's logic with his own. "I know for a fact that one hasn't been shot recently."

Revy stuck her tongue out at Rock with a grin. "Tough luck, Rock-baby." Her grin slipped as her eyes focused on something over Rock's shoulder. "...Shit..."

"Oh my, Revy!" A boisterous voice hailed the Lagoon Company gun-woman. "No wonder you've been avoiding me recently! You got your fingers into a delicious hunk, eh?"

Revy's glare would have ignited water at 30 paces. "Eda..."