The World Keeps on Spinning
Chapter 1:
April 19th, 1997,
Manila, Philippine Islands,
The golden sun shined brightly and beautifully over the bustling streets of Manila…the golden rays preformed a dance as they shrouded the entire city with warms and light. Behind the sun was a deep blue sky, almost like a deep never-ending ocean, similar to that of the very seas that surrounded this small, yet sturdy Pacific Island. The streets were filled with the activity of the families and their children as they were off and out enjoying yet another glorious day that was bestowed upon them, visiting shops, eating at restaurants and partaking in browsing the local markets and street vendors that littered the roads. It was truly a beautiful day to be alive and enjoying life and a nice day off.
Sitting on a park bench, underneath the shade of a palm tree to block out the heat producing sun rays, sat a Caucasian man was thirty-five years old, though looking as though he could be mistaken in his forties if given a close enough look. Short light brown hair cut neatly and professionally around his head, black sunglasses hiding what would be his deep grey-blue eyes from the world. He was wearing a dark blue Hawaiian shirt with white floral patterns decorating the shirt as he crossed one leg over the other, showing his cream-colored slacks and finishing off with a pair of dark brown dress shoes; the man looking like a tourist from out west, but was certainly no stranger to Eastern hemisphere…in fact it is where he pretty much called his home and office of work nowadays. Sure, the man called the United States "home" at one point…. but that was many years ago. He had died…at least in spirit he feels like…now he was just the shell of the man he once knew. For years now, he had been working as a freelance mercenary/ gun for hire ever since his discharge from the army back in 1991, following his discharge from the army after sustaining wounds while deployed to Kuwait during the first Gulf War…how times have changed…and certainly not for the better.
If he was told back in 1991 that he would be in the Philippines in '97, working as a contract killer for an Islamic terrorist group…he would have spit at their feet and waved them off, but here he was…. overlooking a government building that was right across from the very park he was in, just waiting for his target to show. The man was, at least to him, of no importance. Just some uptight Filipino politician. He didn't care, he was just another payday to him. He sat on the bench, patiently waiting, reading the paper…but in reality, the paper he had held a photo of the very man he was going to kill and when the front doors opened and produced several well-dressed men in suits, most likely bodyguards and aids to his target as well as the target himself. The assassin saw the men walking to the Black Mercedes at the bottom of the stair way and ushering the man into the back of the limo, but at the same time, the brown haired assassin produced a cigarette as well as a zippo lighter from his shirt pocket…he placed the smoke into his mouth and opened the lighter, but rather than sparking the light, he moved his thumb past the ignition and pressed down on the remote detonation button that was expertly hidden to go with his lighter; upon the pressing of the button, it sent the signals to the explosives that had been rigged to the target's limo and soon went off blowing the vehicle up and certainly killing the target and his personal staff that were within his vicinity.
The man quickly lite his cigarette with the actual lighter and quickly stuffed it back into his pocket. Within the panic and disorientation of the crowd that was either gathering to see the carnage or fleeing with their families to safety, he used it as cover as he briskly exited the park on the opposite side away from the explosion as sound the sound of sirens whaled throughout the streets responding to the attack as he walked down the road, tossing his smoke to the ground and entering his vehicle. The car itself was nothing impressive, just a simple throw away car that was supplied to him as for means of transportation during his assignment. He started the car up and began driving across the town to get to his hotel room.
Several hours had passed and the one bright day, was now darkened as the sun began to set over the horizon and the assassin, how minus his Hawaiian shirt and glasses, was in his hotel bathroom, splashing water into his face as he looked up…the water dripping down his neatly kept five o'clock shadow and goatee. He met his own gaze…the piercing blue grey eyes that were once filled with life and hope were no dull and lifeless. He remained motionless almost if he was looking at a complete stranger in his hotel room as the background echoing from the TV played the news.
"Earlier today, a tragic car bombing had gone off today in Downtown, Manila. The casualties ranged from 4 dead and 6 wounded. Among the dead was Efren Ortega; a politician who was working tirelessly in the fight against Islamic terrorism by attempting to invoke and pass laws that would- "The words faded out of focus as the assassin looked into the mirror, unmoved and he began remembering what had happened two years earlier on that exact day…the day that forever changed his life.
"Breaking news! We have received updates from the recent OKC bombing terrorist attack that had occurred at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. We have updates that the death toll is now past 100 as emergency and government personnel continue to clear the wreckage. We will keep everyone updated…we are truly sorry for the ones who have…lost any loved ones in this tragic event…" The man's jaw began to quiver a bit as he was recalling the day as if it were like yesterday…he couldn't believe it had happened…. how could he- "Huh?!" He shot up, broken from his thoughts as his cell phone rang in the other room. He quickly shot off the water and wiped down his face as he entered the bed room and grabbed the phone. "Who is this?" He said sternly as the man on the other head of the line spoke. "Oh, now Royce, what ever happened to being nice when talking on the phone?" The man spoke without a care in the world as Royce recognized the voice as his employer for the job; "Oh…Mr. Takanaka…. I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to-" Takanaka, the former JRA member and revolutionary cut him with a hardy chuckle as he spoke. "I'm just kidding Royce. It's completely fine. Besides there isn't a need for the mister. Look, I am short on time, but just wanted to say that you did a job well done today and the PIF certainly appreciates your business and effectiveness…I gotta say, I certainly wasn't expecting it to be so quick… thought it was gonna take you a little extra time to get it done." This time it was Royce's turn to chuckle as he spoke. "Now Takanka, that hurts. I've been doing this sort of thing for over seventeen years…you could at least give me the benefit of the doubt." Royce spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed now, phone against his ear. "That is true. Well look anyways, I know you're a busy man, so I'll cut the chase; your payment has been delivered to the hotel's mail box under your assumed name. It should all be there. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. Good work again, hit me up if you're ever this side of the South China sea again! Good hunting!" He said hanging up before Royce could even utter a farewell…but he didn't care. He closed the phone and stood up…he had a ship to catch in the morning and needed to get some rest.
April, 21st, 1997,
Gulf of Thailand
Two days later after the job, Royce was comfortably sitting in his cabin on the small passenger ship on his way to Thailand for his next assignment. When he left the hotel, he grabbed his payment from the mail and was pleased to see the agreed upon $25,000 amount was all there. He got onto the ship relatively easy, simply showing his forged Canadian passport under the alias of 'Phillip T. Byrd' to the crew and getting on without issue. He preferred taking a ship over flying, simply due to the more laid-back security. Sure, a plane would have been quicker, but he wouldn't haven been able to smuggle his precious gear onto it with him… plus he did enjoy having himself a few days to relax between jobs. It wasn't easy being a travelling gun for hire! So, whenever he got a chance to relax, he took it. Royce was comfortably sitting in the desk chair in his cabin, wearing a yellow button up shirt, un buttoned over a simple white wife-beater undershirt and blue jeans and was currently inspecting his stainless steel M1911A1 .45 pistol finished with a nice black leather grip for better handling. This gun, while not his directly from the army, was still the same standard issue sidearm for troops back when he was in the service, so it was naturally the most comfortable for him to keep using over time. Of course, he can use other firearms without issue, this one however was just the one he preferred to carry. As he had the magazine out and the gun's receiver cock back so he may properly inspect it. Just as he was looking in the chamber…after fiddling with his gun for a bit, he put it down cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders…the last few days had taken a toll on the man…the thoughts of what happened over 2 years ago still flooding his mind…his wife…his daughter…he just couldn't even begin to relive those moments, and yet the thoughts kept haunting him. He shook his head and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the desk and he cracked it open taking a nice long swig of the whiskey, before he set it down giving a long and drawn out sigh catching his breath from the drink. He leaned forward and cupped his head into his hands and took a deep breath…but then he shot up when the sound of gunfire and screaming echoed throughout the far end of the ship…he rose an eye brow and opened the door and stuck his head out, bottle still in hand and listened…as the gunfire and screams continued and he rushed back into his cabin, putting the bottle on the desk and grabbing his 1911 and loading a full mag into the gun, before cocking the receiver back and making it chamber a round and with that, quickly threw on his hip suspender holster that held several more fully loaded mags and hooked his knife to the right side of the side holsters, opposite side of where he places his pistol. Just as he was gonna go for his shoes, he heard the gun shots getting closer along with a gruff Asian accent shout,
"Go and check the cabins! Bring all the hostages here and kill the ones that run!"
'FUCK!' Royce mentally cursed to himself as he got up and ran out the room, looking down each side, aiming his pistol both ways making sure the coast was clear, and when he was satisfied seeing no pirates, he turned left and began heading down towards the bow of the ship, in the opposite direction of the pirates….as soon as he stepped foot out of the room, his bare feet hit the thin layer of carpet in the cabin section of the ship, the scent of gun powder and the metallic blood smell filled the air….and scent he was all too familiar with. He shook his head and continued heading down towards the bow of the ship, but soon he realized that the shots and the screams were in almost all directions, not just towards the front of the ship…perhaps the others were silent or perhaps he just didn't hear them on entering the other side of the ship but regardless…he had to make it back to the deck…towards the bow of the ship…and get on a life boat to get out of this. As he proceeded down the hallway, he heard the heavy footsteps of two of the pirates walking in from down the hall as he quickly tucked himself away in a storage closet, listening to the door with his pistol and knife drawn and ready…just hoping these two would find him….but a few seconds passed and he heard them walking further down the hall, giving him a window to escape, but as he stepped out of the closet, he immediately came face to face with a scrawny, almost sickly looking third pirate who couldn't be taller than 5'5, armed with what was certainly a cheap Chinese knock off of an actual Soviet Kalashnikov.
"Hey sto- agh!" the pirate tried shouting and aiming his rifle at the white male, but was too slow when Royce gripped the barrel of the gun and directed it to the right side and tackled the pirate into the wall and pinned him into it with his clear size and height advantage, standing at around 6 feet even and clearly being in the shape of someone who's been doing this for a number of years. The pirate fired several shots at nothing simply due to muscle reflex from the tense battle of strength the two were having, but Royce quickly moved his left hand under the butt of the rifle and pulled up as the rifle spun up and jacked the pirate across the jaw, making him grunt in pain loudly as he let go of the rifle and Royce gripped the rifle aiming it downwards at the man's bare feet and pulled the trigger once as a bullet tore through the man's foot and the recoil shot the rifle's butt up and clocking him in the bottom of the jaw again making him spit out blood and cry out in pain as he collapsed to the ground, but as soon as he looked up, the butt came at his head AGAIN, but this time as Royce slammed it against his head cracking the poor man's head open as it pinned it hard against the rifle and the wall. Royce now having the AK, quickly holstered his pistol and shot out at the hallway, but encountered the two pirates from previously who were now responding to the struggle and as soon as they saw him pop out, he cursed and jumped back as a hail of bullets tore through the walls. They quickly ran to try to catch up, but as soon as the two pirates, a bit older and meaner looking than the pirate that was just killed, turned the corner expecting to pursue…their bodies were riddled with bullets as a now crouched Royce had taken a defensive position in a small door way and waited for them to come around to chase him. They gargled blood and collapsed to the ground soon dead. As soon as he made sure there wasn't anymore, he quickly got up and proceeded to run for the exit.
"Goddammit! That was fucking close…" Royce said to himself as he pushed open the exit door, aiming the rifle out and carefully began pushing the door open doing a full 180-degree sweep. Soon the scent of blood, gun powder and death were mixed with the salty sea air as the night sky greeted Royce and the crashing waves of the sea played into his ears. He saw the coast was clear thus far and proceeded down to the left towards the bow of the ship with the life boats and be began lightly jogging trying to be quick, his bare feet hitting the cold wet wooden deck of the boat as he continued to make his way to the end of the ship, but as he ran, another pirate, this one armed with an old Soviet tokarev pistol, stepped out of one of the exits, but turned his gaze to the running force at him, but before he could aim his pistol up, Royce threw the now empty AK at the man as he hit him in the face, making him grunt in pain as he fired a shot into the ground with his pistol from the sudden muscle tense in his hand and before he could get his bearings together, Royce had grabbed the man's head and slammed it against the ship's metal wall and slammed it several more times making the man drop the gun and a blood stain painted the wall as he kept grunting with each time his head made contact with the wall, his suffering finally ended when Royce's K-bar knife slammed into the back of the man's skull with a nasty crack and he pulled it out as blood gushed from the back of the man's head like a crimson waterfall. Royce grabbed the man's body and threw it over board grunting in anger and adrenaline. It had been quite sometime he was in a situation like this… he smirked as he panted a bit filled with the adrenaline flowing throw him. But this moment of hesitation gave the pirates sometime to rush down the hallways pursuing this survivor who had killed several of their crew members…they wanted him dead, and so like a pack of blood thirsty rabid dogs, the pack of remaining pirates armed with their cheap cold war era weaponry began screaming and chasing after Royce as he heard them and silently snapped out of his thoughts. He knelt down grabbing the Tokarev pistol and pulling out his 1911 and duel wielded the pistols and began running further down the hallway.
As he ran into a now full-blown sprint, he heard bullets whizzing and cracking near him as the pursuing pirates were close to his tail and were taking pot shots at the moving target. Royce too began firing back, with both pistols, not necessarily aiming since it would break his sprint, but just enough to hopefully hit or at least slow down the pirates…which luckily it did, as one pirate took a bullet to the shoulder and another to his leg making them fall, but the remaining continued to chase. After finally reaching the bow of the ship, a pirate armed with an old AK-74 turned the corner and was about to shoot when Royce aimed the Tokarev up and fired two shots into the man's chest and shoulder and tossed the now empty pistol and when he reached the surprisingly still kicking pirate, he quickly wrapped around his back and held him up as a human shield by sliding his arms under the pirates arms and firing the AK-74 and his 1911 at the gang of remaining pirates and the sudden firing of the automatic weapon was able to tear through two of them, dropping them dead, before the other ones took cover and began firing as the bullets either cracked near them or tore through the pirate human shield. "Agh! No s-stop! Agh! Ofgk!" The pirate cried out as his friends shot him several times and soon died and dead weighted into Royce's arms…clearly these men didn't care about their own crew that much…but regardless, Royce dropped the dead pirate and kept firing the AK74 and his 1911 until both were out of ammo, and when than happened he threw the Ak-74 away and reloaded his Colt. 45 and went behind cover on the bow of the ship and would poke out and fire his pistol as he kept trying to work his way to the life boats and the pirates kept pushing forward…. he was running low on ammo and was quickly getting surrounded and soon to be cornered…he just had to- "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Royce had openly cussed in anger when he saw that the life boat…his means of escape…had been cut and let loose…either by other passengers or by the pirates….either way….his plan was just screwed over….just then an idea came to his head….it was a completely stupid and batshit crazy one…but the best he could come up with….Royce pulled out his mag and counted 5 bullets…that was all he had left…and the bullets kept slamming into the metal container that he was hiding behind and their foot steps were getting closer as he sighed nearly praying to the gods he does not believe in for luck as soon the moment of silence when the pirates stopped to reload their weapons came and he shot up and began running to the steps that lead to the life boat rung and fired all five of his last shots at the pirates, not even sure if he hit anything, just enough to send them back to cover to give him time as he climbed up the steps and was about to jump overboard into the Gulf of Thailand…and surprisingly his plan wasn't going as bad as he thought….that was….until he reached the top step and just as he was about to jump off, he felt a hot burning sensation tear through his shoulder as he had soon realized, he was shot in the back of the shoulder by one of the pirates, but before he could even register to turn around, he was already falling forward and off the ship, both from his running momentum and from the force of the bullet tearing into him as he fell off the ship. "GOD DAMMMITTT!-" Royce shouted out in pain and shock as he fell and soon the waters of the sea took him, the impact from that height on the water smacking his head back, while not fatal had knocked the poor wounded man unconscious…. And his body began to float there on its back, giving them pirates the illusion that he was finally dead.
Rock's POV
I sat in the cabin of the Torpedo boat drinking a beer… the day was a long one. We had been on the sea for hours, going from island to island picking up and delivering a number of shipments for Mr. Chang and the 14k Triad. Dutch was piloting the Lagoon torpedo boat, Benny was typing away at his computer… most likely talking to Jane and Revy was…. Well being Revy.
"Ugh! Dutch how much fucking further until we're back at port?! I wanna get a real drink at the YellowFlag! This horse piss isn't cutting it!" Revy exclaimed angrily as her arms were crossed leaning against the wall of the cabin, her twin cutlasses by her sides as Dutch just shook his head.
"Revy be a bit more damned patient. This thing can only go so fast. Rock can you go up to the crow's nest with the binoculars and tell me if you see the port?" Dutch asked me handing me the binoculars as I nodded and took them. "Sure thing. I'll be right back." I said adjusting my tie and climbing up the ladder topside past Revy as she just twirled her cutlass in hand and freshly lit smoke in her mouth not paying me any mind. As soon as I was topside and in the crow's nest I looked out with the binoculars and spotted the lights of Roanapur and just as I was about to tell Dutch…when I saw something yellow and white in the water with a hint of blood red on its back moving…it was a person! And he was moving! I quickly got on the radio and reported;
"Dutch! I see a guy in the water! I think he's still alive! W-we got to save him!" I said in the radio, but heard Revy through Dutch's radio.
"So, what?! Dipshit is probably thrown in there by the cartel because he didn't pay his debts or some shit! Let his ass become fish food for all I care!" Revy clearly made her point clear, but Dutch interjected; "I don't know Revy…the cartel's usually use Sawyer to dispose of the bodies…and even if they threw them in the water, they would take them further than just this…he must have fallen overboard…. I say we save him…see what the hell he's doing out here. And if he dies then fuck it, we move on with our lives…" Dutch said pulling back on the speed and slowly the ship down as he parked it near the body.
"Alright, up you go buddy." Dutch said as I watched him and Revy reaching down the side of the boat and grabbing the poor bastard and hauling him onto the deck as he laid there…eyes half open, clearly a bloody gunshot wound in his shoulder as he had swallow breaths. "Well shit…poor bastard has definitely had better days… Benny and Rock, you guys get him inside! Revy, get the first aid kit and start patching him up! I'm gonna get us home." Dutch said as we all did as told and moved the guy inside to the cabin and laid him down on a cot as Revy entered came in with the first aid kit and began patching up his wound.
"Rock…you might wanna leave…this is gonna be a bit bloody…" Revy warned as I nodded and walked out letting her work. I felt the boat pick up speed as we began heading back to Roanapur with our newest passenger….'who was this guy…and what was he doing out in the bay?... Guess only time will tell..' I thought to myself, putting a cigarette in my mouth and lighting it as we began pulling into the bay of Roanapur… or better yet, the gates to Hell itself…
A/N Well this is my first shot at a Black Lagoon series fanfic with an OC and I gotta say it's a lot more challenging than I thought! Anyways..since this is my first crack at it, please leave your reviews upon reading! And especially any constructive criticism! I want to improve not only my writing skills, but the story as it progresses! As for a few side notes; 1. I intend to keep the Gary stu aspect away from my OC. He will only be as good as his experience lets him be. So he's not gonna be shooting through a hoard of Hotel Moscow soldiers with one small pistol! 2. For ships or relationships…I might not do those quite yet, seeing as I want to progress my guy and the story to a good point before, I focus on intimate relationships. 3. I actually have a lot planned for my OC and the story going further, but I am always open to ideas and critic from the readers! With that being said, thank you to all who read! This is gonna be very fun and I look forward to continuing this story! Peace! V