"So pizzi e casa, o so pizzi e galera? Arò stai chiuso ra mattina, a sera! Si o purgatorio, e tutta chesta genta, ca vive in barracche…e vive e stiente! (Is this a place for home, or a place for prison? Where you are locked from morning, to night! You are purgatory, for all these people, who live in slums, and live in need!)" A man sings to himself, in Neapolitan Italian, the words to "Vesuvio" by Neapolitan folk band Zezi, wearing a gas mask on his face. He is dressed in a grey apron with a purple t-shirt underneath it, G3A3 rifle slung over his back. The man, sporting short, black hair, leans on a railing that is overlooking the ground floor of what appears to be a factory line at a glance.

Toxic, corrosive smoke smogs the air as Vietnamese men and women attend to various workstations throughout the ground floor, extracting precious metals from electronics through a variety of methods, ranging from prying open computers with crowbars to setting them on fire. The various Vietnamese laborers dress themselves in matching aprons as well, with slightly more than half of them wearing gas masks. On the overlooking floor, several windows have been left open, allowing the toxic fumes to exit the facility and mingle with the outside air.

Suddenly, a Vietnamese woman in a gas mask and a grey apron, wearing a light blue collared shirt under the apron, stops next to the man. She has long black hair tied into a ponytail, carrying a Madsen M50 submachine gun, the sling of the gun draped over her right shoulder. Taking a glance at the ground floor, she turns to the man and says "Chao anh, Nathaniel. Lady working on the circuit burning…she had an accident. Right foot caught on fire. I sent her to the doctor in the city. Gave her some money to keep her quiet. You owe me 610,000 Dong, or 50 dollars in American. I prefer American."

Nathaniel laughs behind his gas mask and says "Let's toss in some courage to your new found virtues, Tuyết. Make it 1,000,000 sesters...sekters…damn, what was the currency used in Ancient Rome again?" Tuyết tilts her head back, trying to understand what Nathaniel is saying. She asks "Is it that stupid phim again?" Nathaniel stands back and waves his arms around in shock, exclaiming "Spartacus is an amazing film! After work, I'll give you $50. Go to the city and find a videotape store. Watch it. Remember, I'm going to quiz you on it! And I will get the soundtrack installed and looped on the loudspeaker!"

Tuyết shakes her head in exasperation and says "Thánh nhân đãi kẻ khù khờ. Or as they say in English, fortune smiles upon idiots." Nathaniel laughs and says "Stop trying to crush my balls, Tuyết. I am just trying to amuse myself. Hey, maybe after work, I'll bring my copy of Spartacus over. You have a VHS player?" Tuyết slumps her shoulders in annoyance and says "$50 after work. Just $50. I am serious. Oh, almost forgot. Martin is coming over to pick up the barge tomorrow. Make sure that the last batch is on the barge."

Nathaniel nods and says "I know, I know. The barge is really piling up though. Turning into Monte Vesuvio. Oh, by the way. Chúc mừng năm mới (Happy Lunar New Year)." Tuyết laughs and shakes her head, saying "It's not Vietnamese New Years yet. Tết is on the 28th. By the way, it is bad luck to not pay back owed money before Tết. Just saying."

Nathaniel laughs and dramatically places his right hand on his forehead, saying "A mating of the eagles, your sanctity! Fan her magnitude, she sweats!" Tuyết shakes her head in exasperation and resumes to her patrols, muttering under her breath "Đụ ngốc (stupid fuck)" as Nathaniel returns to his imagination.

"One! Two! And three!" Dutch yells as he, Rock, Revy, and Benny, all four dressed in their usual clothes aside from Rock, who is wearing his Jai Yen Yen shirt with brown shorts, push a 4 by 3 by 3 foot block of crushed, compacted garbage, ranging from broken computer monitors to flattened calculators. The four of them, standing on a mountain of these blocks, tip the block over the barge and into the South China Sea. "So…" Dutch says, panting "who is Suphawut? I heard you asking Gustavo about him, after we started playing cards." Panting as well, Rock says "He is a friend of mine, owes me some money. I was asking Gustavo to make sure that he didn't come back to gamble." Benny laughs and says "Rokuro Okajima…the friendly neighborhood loan shark."

Back on the Lagoon, attached to the end of the barge, Martin Zappala sits on a lawn chair with a European looking man. Zappala is dressed in a blue Genelli tracksuit, can of Heineken in his right hand. The unknown man, dressed in a sky blue S.S.C. Napoli soccer jersey and black track pants, sporting black, shoulder length, widow's peak hair with a few streaks of grey, sits on a lawn chair next to Zappala, also with a Heineken in hand. He has a slightly wrinkled face and appears to have just entered his 50s. Taking a sip, Zappala says "Hey Nicky, I'm getting flashbacks to those no-work construction jobs in Grandview."

"Three!" Black Lagoon Company shoves a second block of garbage into the water. Groaning, Revy says "That's two down…and a shit load to go. Fuck, those assholes over there could give us a hand. Zappala and…that other guy." Benny positions himself behind a third block and says "Nicky Ippolito, that's his name." Revy sighs and says "Yeah, him." As the four prepare to push a third block into the water, Rock groans out and swears "This feels like we're playing a game of life-sized mahjong!"

Benny clutches his teeth as the four pirates tip the block into the sea. Panting, he says "You know I'm not even supposed to be here. I should be manning the radar in case some unwanted guests show up." Dutch glares at Benny and nods, saying "Yea, exactly, why the hell are you even up here? Get back to the ship." Benny uncomfortably grins and says "Just so no one would accuse me of not doing any heavy lifting." Revy arcs her back and says "Yeah Benny, good job. You helped. Here's a sticker."

Revy pants in exhaustion and turns to Zappala, saying "Hey Marty! Can you or your friend get off your cushioned asses and give us a hand?" Marty finishes his can of beer and turns to the barge, watching as Benny climbs back onto the Lagoon. Crushing his beer, Marty says "I hired you people to do the heavy lifting so I could take it easy. And why is Garth from Wayne's World heading back here?" Benny rolls his eyes and rapidly says "I'm needed at the radar, in case some pirates from the Strait of Malacca decide to show up." Zappala squints his eyes and glares at Benny, saying "Did you just call me an 'ass-pirating straight malaka'? That shit doesn't even make sense!" Ippolito turns away from Marty and silently laughs to himself.

Rock leans against a block of plastic and metallic garbage, catching his breath. Looking toward the sky, he says "We would be finished in half the time if we would split up into two teams of three and two." Dutch nods in agreement and turns to the Lagoon, yelling "Martin! Nick! How strong are you two?" Ippolito sets his can of beer on the ground and approaches the barge. Following suit, Zappala kneels by the barge and says "I'm paying you guys two grand for this job, so stop busting my balls alright? C'mon, I'm getting my tan working over here!" Dutch groans in annoyance and says "I understand Mr. Zappala, but the sooner we are done, the sooner we all can go home. I do not understand why that is so hard to get."

Zappala turns to Ippolito and says "You heard the man. Get your hands dirty." Dutch looks to the side in annoyance, slouches, and says "I meant both of you. Nick and I would handle one side. You, Rock, and Revy would handle the other." Zappala glares at Dutch with a disgusted look and says "Hey, this is a fucking Genelli! This tracksuit costs 300 bucks!" Ippolito turns to Zappala with his hands outstretched and an annoyed look on his face, saying "Back off, Prince Charles! This is a Diego Maradona jersey I'm wearing, a fucking collector's item!" Zappala shakes his head in amusement, saying "Maradona could suck my dick for all I care, and Napoli is so shitty that it ain't even in Serie A anymore!" Ippolito sighs and shakes his head, as Zappala continues "Besides, who gives a shit about soccer?!" "Oh!" Ippolito interjects, visibly disturbed.

Lagoon Company shoves another block into the water as Zappala and Ippolito argue. Annoyed, Revy yells out "Hey Rock! Give 'Genelli' and his friend 'Jim Morrison' a pair of your shirts!" Zappala laughs and says "Hey Nicky, you do kind of look like that guy from 'The Doors'." Rock sighs and says "Sure, one second." As he escorts Zappala and Ippolito into the interior of the Lagoon, Revy says "Who the fuck buys a $300 tracksuit?! I like wearing them but I don't buy this overpriced designer shit."

Returning to the deck of the Lagoon, Zappala, Ippolito, and Rock approach the barge, with Ippolito taking point. Ippolito is dressed in his own black track pants and a loaned red shirt that says "Sepak Takraw" on it in white Thai and English lettering. Zappala, holding a grey stereo in his right hand, is dressed in grey jeans and a green t-shirt that says in brown English lettering "Bad Motherfucker." Revy and Dutch take a glance at the two mobsters and burst out in laughter. Zappala sighs and says "Well Dutch…if your plan was to make your clients feel like a pair of fanooks, then mission fucking accomplished."

Revy laughs and says "Fuck you Marty! I bought Rock that shirt." Rock stares blankly at Revy and says "And there is a reason why that shirt has never left my cabin until now." Revy laughs and flips Rock the bird, saying "Kiss my ass, you fucking clown!" Zappala extends his right hand and stops Revy, saying "Might I add, we need some music here before we, I, go crazy. Good thing for everyone here, is that I brought a tape full of the greatest hits by Adriano Celentano. Brace yourself for the finest music that you will ever fucking hear. Listen to those honeyed words, like auditory champagne." He sets the stereo at the edge of the deck and plays the tape, starting the song "Il Tempo Se Ne Va (Time Goes By)," by Adriano Celentano.

Dutch sighs in minor annoyance and says "Alright, we'll do it like this. Nick and I will handle the end on the right, you three on the left." Zappala nods and waves Rock and Ippolito toward the barge, the three of them climbing onto it.

Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a buttoned, collared, green shirt that is sporting a black design of rose petals, Ji-hoon Seok returns to the restaurant that he and Takahashi arranged to meet in. Wearing designer sunglasses, he raises them to his bald forehead and surveys the crowded restaurant. The restaurant is filled with various Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, Laotian, and Farang patrons. He spots James Apuna, playing with egg noodles on a distant booth, the Hawaiian bodyguard tilting his head to the right. In the middle of the restaurant, Takahashi, seated by a table and dressed in a grey sports jacket and a brown undershirt, nervously stares at his legs, a black briefcase at his feet. A tall, Chinese looking woman, dressed in a black chef's attire and wearing a rice hat that is tilted over her eyes, steps toward a booth in the front of the restaurant.

Seok gives the woman a quick glance and then immediately turns toward Takahashi's table. He places his right arm on his back waist, feeling the grip of his Type 54 pistol. Blinking, Seok pulls back an empty seat at Takahashi's table and seats himself. He darts a quick glance at the briefcase by Takahashi's feet and then quickly turns around, glancing at the woman in the chef's attire. The woman appears to be conversing with a Thai looking patron, her long, black hair flowing left and right as she seems to argue with the patron. Seok, eyes still glued to the Chinese chef, turns his body back to Takahashi, who has yet to make eye contact with Seok. He turns his head straight at Takahashi and slightly looks to the left and right. "I'm waiting," Seok whispers, to which Takahashi flinches in response.

Takahashi places his left foot behind the briefcase and gently pushes it across the ground until it comes into Seok's reach. Seok smirks in satisfaction and reaches his right hand toward the briefcase. As he grasps onto the handle of the briefcase, Seok suddenly feels a forearm pushing his head face-first into the table and a second hand digging under his collared shirt. Seok shoves his left elbow back at the assailant and reaches under his shirt for his pistol. Suddenly, the assailant grasps onto Seok's right wrist and restrains Seok from drawing his sidearm, all while wrapping an arm around Seok's neck.

A terrified Seok is pulled to his feet by his assailant as a slightly tanned Filipino man, wearing a red cotton t-shirt and black shorts and sporting a faint goatee and short black hair, jumps out of his booth with a pistol in his hand, the pistol appearing to a paltik 'homemade gun' designed after the Colt M1911 with a shortened barrel. The Filipino man aims his pistol at Seok's face as Seok turns around and spots the female chef, now revealed to be Shenhua. Panicking, he jerks his head toward Takahashi, who calmly smiles at Seok. Shenhua laughs and says in English "Wonder if they serve dog in hell."

Seok fidgets violently in Shenhua's grasp, yelling in Korean "SHIBA (Fuck)! Naneun joj tten geojyo (I fucked up)!" Turning to the patrons, he pleads "Jeoleul dowajuseyo (please help me)! Help! Help! $200,000 if help! Jebal (help)!" The Filipino man laughs and says in English and Chavacano "Mongkut and Chang say hello, vos cabrona!" Seok fidgets violently, yelling "Mongkut?! CHANG?! SHIBA (Fuck)! SHIBA, SHIBA, SHIBA!" He screams at the top of his lungs as Shenhua drags him from behind towards the kitchen, with the Filipino man's gun in his face.

Seok cries as Shenhua shoves him head first through the door to the kitchen, yelling in Korean "JEBAL (Help)! NAN JUGGO SIPJI ANH A (I don't want to die)! JEBAL!" Dragging Seok, Shenhua shoves him into a spacious meat locker, the locker empty if not for Sawyer standing in the middle, chainsaw in hand, dressed up to her neck in an orange hazard suit. Seok cries out in fear and yells "SHIBA!" as Sawyer pulls on the chainsaw's cord. "Get door, Cesar!" Shenhua yells at the Filipino man, Cesar, as Cesar nods and turns toward the kitchen door.

Rising from his table, Takahashi snaps his fingers once and says "I appreciate your assistance in this matter. See your superiors for your compensation. You are all dismissed." Suddenly, a pair of gunshots ring out from the kitchen. A few of the hired patrons flinch as James Apuna climbs out of his booth and says "I'll check it out, ali'l."

Opening the door to the meat locker, Apuna peers inside, Nambu Type 94 in hand, hearing the sounds of a chainsaw spinning and a man screaming. He spots Cesar standing over Seok, homemade pistol in hand, watching Seok grasp his bullet ridden knees in pain and fear. Apuna shuts the meat locker door and turns toward the dining area, saying "It's all clear, boss."

Inside the meat locker, Sawyer angles her chainsaw down, the blades perfectly vertical. Cesar, holstering his pistol on his waist, and Shenhua, tossing her hat aside, each grab one of Seok's ankles. Flanking Sawyer on each side, the two begin to drag Seok toward the chainsaw, the blades hovering right over the ground and in the patch of his crotch. Terrified out of his mind, Seok yells out "JEBAL! PLEASE HELP! HELP! HELP!"

Pushing a block of garbage into the water, Rock, Revy, and Zappala pant in exhaustion. The three of them, plus Dutch and Ippolito on the other side, have reduced the mountain of garbage to a small pile in the middle. The stereo plays "24,000 Baci" by Adriano Celentano. Leaning against the pile, Marty yells out "Hey Nicky, hear about Australia?!" Nicky raises an eyebrow and replies "The fuck you talking about?" Marty rolls his eyes and says "Melbourne! Hear anything from there?" Nicky slouches and says "What about Melbourne? Why should I be hearing anything?" Marty claws onto a block of garbage and answers "We have people there, one of the other groups. Heard things are getting a little tense there, could get wild. Bad for business…it'll make it a bitch to smuggle shit into the country." Ippolito stretches his neck and says "Oh, those guys. Nah, heard nothing."

"The 'Ndrangheta is in Australia too?" Revy asks as the three of them push a block of trash off the barge. Marty pants and says "Ah yeah. We got people there, all over the eastern seaboard. Melbourne and shit. It's part of this thing that all of our groups are trying to pull off. Circumnavigate, like Magellan and shit. That's more than the Sicilians could say, way more."

Suddenly, as the sound of a block of garbage hits the water, Dutch yells out "We got blood here!" Marty, Rock, and Revy turn to the other side of the pile, watching as Dutch and Ippolito pull and shove blocks across the deck. Picking a block up and pushing it away, Dutch and Ippolito uncover a blood-soaked corpse that has been crushed to the width of a sheet of pancakes, the face completely mutilated. "Oh shit…" Revy mutters as Rock grabs his mouth and runs to the edge of the barge, vomiting into the water. Revy laughs and says "What's the matter Rocky-boy? I thought you'd be used to the bodies by now." Rock wipes vomit off his lips and says "I was used to the bodies when they were still three-dimensional." Revy laughs again as Marty struggles to pry open a flattened jean pocket.

Fishing his hand into the pocket with some difficulty, Marty pulls out a crushed grey leather wallet. Opening the wallet, Marty spots a British Columbia driver's license that says 'Gessa, Nathaniel.' Marty sighs and says "That cocksucker actually did it. He actually made a fucking move. Damn slope eyes, didn't think Nat Gas would end up like this." Revy glares at Marty and yells "I'm standing right here you gravelly-voiced guinea!" Marty glares at the horizon and waves Revy off, saying "Ahh shut the fuck up. A good friend of mine has somehow lost his fucking width! Fuck, can't believe that the fucking gook made a play like this. You know how hard it is to find a guy that can fluently speak Vietnamese, Italian, Neapolitan, English, AND Canadian? Argh…Dutch…you, Rock, and Revy finish up with the trash. Nicky! We gonna give Ben Hur a sailor's burial. Check his pockets for any valuables, rings and shit."

Marty and Ippolito pry Nathaniel's corpse off the barge deck, starting at the tip of his legs, and drag it to the edge of the barge, leaving a slight blood trail behind. After a quick search of his pockets yield nothing of note, Marty stares at the distant horizon and sighs. Ippolito turns to Marty and asks "You sure bout dumping him here?" Marty nods and solemnly says "Yea, I'm fucking sure." "No weights? Nothing to keep him down?" Ippolito inquires further. Marty grimaces and says "Nah, sharks'll take care of him. I heard they can smell blood for miles." Ippolito slightly grimaces and pushes Nathaniel's corpse off the barge.

Nathaniel's corpse lands back first on the water, and actually floats like a duck, being carried away by the slight current. Marty sighs and draws his Beretta 92, saying "Couple of holes should let the water sink that piece of meat." The corpse begins to sink before Marty could pull the trigger. As Marty holsters his pistol, a grey reef shark surfaces, fails to gnaw onto the flattened ribs of the corpse, and then bites onto the left leg of the corpse, dragging it down. Ippolito blinks and says "Well we don't have to worry about that body turning up on some beach, that's for sure."

Pushing a block of trash toward the edge of the barge, along with Dutch and Revy, Rock pensively says "He fed that corpse to the sharks." "So?" Dutch inquires, wiping sweat off his forehead. Heaving the block of trash pass the edge of the barge and into the ocean, Rock sarcastically says "That's a nice thing to do for a good friend." Dutch stretches his neck and says "He's a piece of meat. Doesn't matter in the end."

Rock forces a laugh and turns to Revy, saying "So Revy, would you just toss my body overboard?" Revy forces a laugh as well and says "Look at it this way, Rock. Just…well…okay, I have an idea. Name the three most likely ways that you think you are going to die…be realistic." Rock shrugs his shoulders and says "I don't know…gunshot wound, blown to pieces, and lung cancer? No…drowning, not lung cancer. I would say drowning is third." Revy laughs once and asks "With those three scenarios in mind, how likely do you think that we'd get our hands on your fucking body?"

Marty suddenly approaches the three, arms behind his head, visibly disheveled. Exhaling a deep breath, he says "We are heading to Surat Thani…to Ko Samui Island. Southwest Thailand. There's something that I've been meaning to pick up from a contact there but I've been delaying. Didn't think that it would come to this…motherfucker. Just to fill you all in now, there's this guy in Vietnam. He's the head honcho at this major newspaper. Second most distributed paper in Vietnam, and the guy himself is connected to the government like dingle berries on an asshole. I've been kicking money up to people in Vietnam, but not this guy's people, and this guy's people happen to be the Vietnamese fucking Secret Police. Given all this, I'd say that we're going to be getting very comfortable for the next week or..."

Dutch raises his right hand and stops Marty, saying "Hold on. We are being paid to empty this barge, not to follow you on a rat race all over Vietnam. If you want our help, we have to talk payment, and two grand isn't going to cut it. Otherwise, we are heading back to Roanapur and calling it a day." "Alright! Alright! We'll work out a number. Just first, get this shit wrapped up and back in Vietnam. Nicky and I will stow away on your boat, all take a cruise to Ko Samui. Gas is on me, consider it a taxi fare if nothing else comes out. You three will like Ko Samui, it's a classy beach place. Real quiet like, got a bit of everything," Marty says, to which Dutch nods in agreement. Exhaling and pulling his hair back, Marty turns to Ippolito and says "Fuck I could use a bump right now."

Inside his office, Takahashi, dressed as he was earlier, sits on a chair and folds his arms on his desk. He glares at Shaoxie silently, the latter dressed in a dark green and black diamond patterned shirt and dark blue jeans. Sighing, Shaoxie says "Again, I sorry Takahashi. I put you in risk, but it work out. Reaction had to be real, you know?" Takahashi removes his glasses and grabs a piece of cloth. Cleaning the lens with a slightly annoyed demeanor, he says "Seok is now irrelevant, so I will move past this now. I am more concerned with this security leak that I have not been told of until a few days ago."

Shaoxie smiles in relief and says "I work on it. Sent Duclair on job. He brought some people to help, people he trust. Narrowing down list." Takahashi places his glasses back on and leans forward, interested. He asks "The people that have yet to be cleared…do they have access to the production? Are there any trade secrets that could be compromised?" Shaoxie shakes his head and says "Nah, only access to distribution. Gonna change a few routes, a few dead drops. None of these work in factory."

Takahashi calmly nods and blankly asks "How many left on the list?" Shaoxie pulls out a red pack of Skittles from his right jean pocket and says "Four. Two…what you call…haoles? People from mainland America. Harvey Vuković and Steven Alderson, both from California, both work in shipping from Roanapur to Mexico. A Hawaiian, Russell Keawe, he work security in transport over here. And that guy from Hong Kong that you hire, that Wei Huang guy." Takahashi stares at Shaoxie, taken aback, and says "Wei? The manager of my Tiwanon Avenue store? Do you believe that he is the leak?"

Shaoxie tears off a corner of the pack and pours a few Skittles into his right hand. Dropping them into his mouth, three at a time, he chews and mumbles out "I don't know. That why I put Duclair on job. We know in few days." Takahashi shakes his head and says "All four potential security leaks come with heavy consequences. No matter what happens, we will have to alter everything. Not just distribution routes…we will also have to alter our shipping schedules to Mexico and our drop offs with our distribution partners." Shaoxie downs a few more Skittles and says "Take it easy, it being done."

Takahashi scans the walls of his office. Looking at his diploma, he says "Seok's body is being disposed in a place where the Koreans could easily find it. I left that duty to Chang's assassins. I would prefer that we and the Koreans could reach an understanding over this mess…but a gang war seems possible. I would rather that the war be won before it is even fought." Shaoxie shakes his head and says "No, we leave the Koreans alone. Koreans friends with Hotel Moscow. We fight Yong-sun Baek and he bring Balalaika. Chang step in, Nigerians in Bangkok step in, everyone kill other, police start crackdown. Koreans know this. They back off, trust me. They know we in the right." Takahashi nods solemnly and says "That appears to be so. I understand…we won't cast the first stone. Still, we must be on our guard, especially after this pest is dealt with." Shaoxie nods and says "I agree."

Takahashi scratches his nose and sighs, saying "We should stop distributing from our groceries and supermarkets. I say that we develop some distance between the drugs and the front companies. Rely solely on Kamol, Mongkut, and Kaeo for local distribution." Shaoxie picks out a few orange Skittles and tosses them into a trash bin, saying "If we do that, people lose job. I say we gotta fire all dealers, all six. They might talk…might need handling." Takahashi shakes his head and says "We'll negotiate something with our distributors. All six of the dealers are Roanapur locals, they should probably feel even more comfortable in the employment of our distributors. Common language." Shaoxie nods and says "Maybe."

Inside the Bougainville Trading Company, Freddy Viapiano, dressed in a light brown sweater with a single red horizontal stripe across the middle and beige slacks, climbs out of his seat, his phone ringing. He is inside a lounge area, on the side of the coffee table that's facing a window. On the other side of the table, Balalaika, dressed in her red dress suit, Boris, dressed in a black vest, a dark blue collared undershirt, and dark blue slacks, and Baretsky, dressed in a pink and white horizontally striped polo and black slacks, all watch as Viapiano takes a break in negotiations. Looking at the caller ID, Viapiano restraints a sigh and turns to the three Russians, saying "Sorry bout this, call twice means I gotta take it. Won't be long."

Viapiano excuses himself and steps out of the lounge, walking toward a bathroom. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, Viapiano turns to his cell phone and puts it to his ear. "Freddy?" Marty says, leaning against the exterior wall in an alleyway, with Black Lagoon Company and Ippolito conversing amongst themselves on the nearby sidewalk. Rolling his eyes, Viapiano says "I'm in fucking talks right now. I said not to call at this time, so either say something important or I'm putting you on silent."

Marty kicks an empty can of Pepsi across the alleyway and says "Kirk Douglas has been found on the way to Gaul." Viapiano pauses for a few seconds to process Marty's comment. An incredulous look on his face, Viapiano stares directly at an overhead lamp until he closes his eyes in discomfort. Sitting down on a toilet lid, Viapiano musters out "Why are you speaking in non-specifics right now?" Marty grimaces and says "Well, you know. Just to be on the safe side." Viapiano musters a few sarcastic chuckles and yells out "You stupid polack, we are in Thailand!"

Marty shakes his head in annoyance and says "Easy boss. It's just an old habit that I picked up in Canada." "Well we ain't in Canada. Where the fuck are you? And what's this about Kirk Douglas?" Viapiano replies, irritated. Marty quickly replies "I'm in Ko Samui with Nicky. We are here to pick up that thing that I've been meaning to get. From that Roscoe guy that I mentioned. We cleaned out the barge and brought it back to dock, but we had a…discovery during the waste dumping."

Viapiano grinds his teeth and says "I'm waiting…" Marty gives a quick glance to Black Lagoon Company, who are all taking a cigarette break. Scratching the back of his head, Marty answers "Nat Gas. We found him under the garbage, missing a dimension." "Ah shit…that's a blow." "I know! Me thinks that the newspaper man Chù Thanh Hoàng and his friends in the Tổng Cục Tình Báo (General Department of Military Intelligence) have something to do with this. I haven't gotten back into our 'recycling' facility yet. I've already given Tuyết a call. She has the facility on lock down and is sending her muscle to run low-key surveillance on Chù and his associates. I also hired Black Lagoon Company for an extra week, 36 grand out of my pocket. Nothing else for you, boss. Next time you and I gonna talk, I'm probably gonna be in 'Nam. Good luck." Marty hangs up the phone as Viapiano nods in understanding, preparing himself for another round of negotiations.

Pocketing his cell phone, Marty claps his hands together and cracks his fingers. He steps out of the alleyway and approaches the group of five, all as they were dressed on the boat with the exception of Revy, who has put on her blue tracksuit, stashing her guns in the pockets. Marty extends his arms out, as if he is ready to embrace all five of them, and then suddenly claps his hands together, catching everyone's attention. He says "Alright, that last call was Freddy getting the heads-up. The one before that was Tuyết. She runs security for us. Now, we all got motel rooms, nice motel rooms, lined up for the week. It's in Nha Trang, like 300 miles from Rạch Giá, but I have places to dock the boat in both cities, so we don't gotta drive 10 hours each day. Now, apparently Nha Trang is like the Miami of Indochina, and the owners are gonna need something extra for letting us store guns, so it's going to be $200 a night, each. That good?"

Dutch shrugs his shoulders and says "It sounds good and all…but what exactly are we doing here in Thailand then? What are we picking up?" Marty turns in front of Dutch and heads down the sidewalk, motioning the rest to follow. "We are meeting a contact of mine. I found him on the grapevine…this ex-military guy that smuggles in special items from Vietnam once in a blue moon. I found out that he's got genuine uniforms and combat attires from the Vietnamese Secret Police, aka the Tổng Cục II. Ex-marine that went AWOL, near the end of the 'Nam War," Marty explains, to which Dutch replies with "Hn."

The group approaches a blue colored surf shop titled 'R. W.'s Surf' in red lettering on an awning. "R.W.? Nah, can't be," Dutch mutters loud enough for Revy and Rock to hear. The two give each other a confused glance and return to silence. Marty approaches the door to the surf shop and swings it open, waving Dutch and Co. inside. Dutch takes the first step inside, glancing at a few surf boards and banana boats before turning his attention to the slightly dark-brown skinned owner of the store as his world slows to a crawl before him. The owner, appearing to be skinny and slightly shorter than Revy, is dressed in a light-beige collared, buttoned shirt, forest green shorts, and grey sandals. Clean shaven with a cleft, round chin, and sporting short, black hair and a faint scar diagonally across his left eyebrow, he tilts his silver-framed eyeglasses up, squints, and puts them back on. Chuckling twice, he says "I'd say I've been hallucinating, but I haven't touched that stuff since Cambodia. Marion DeVries-Savage, in the flesh and blood…it's been...almost twenty years."

"Roscoe…Ward? Is…Roscoe…well…I have to say that you look well after…" Dutch mumbles out, otherwise frozen in shock. Revy glares at Roscoe, who's voice is so hoarse that it makes Marty's voice sound angelic, and then at Dutch, and asks "You two know each other?" Roscoe smirks and nods, saying "Damn right we know each other. We knew each other since Grand River High School back in Detroit. The craziness that we been through…Oakland, Vietnam…Cambodia…" Benny remembers Shane Caxton's suspicions on Dutch's military service and says "Cambodia? Dutch, I thought you fought in Vietnam." Roscoe eyes Benny and the others, and says "Dutch? You keeping the name that Lo Chan called you?"

Dutch glares at Roscoe, who suddenly gets the message. Roscoe grimaces and says "A'ight there. I'll let you tell them on your own time." Marty claps his hands together and says "I'm all for this veteran's reunion and all but Roscoe and I got business to take care of. So, if you all…just…fuck off out of the way…" Marty and Ippolito step toward the rear of the surf shop as Roscoe solemnly nods and says "I'll catch up with you after this."

Dutch watches Roscoe, Marty, and Ippolito step out of the back of the store and onto a beach, the three slowly approaching the shoreline. His mouth agape in shock, he finally musters the energy to sigh as decades of life and pain flash before him. Revy simply snickers to herself and asks "Your real name is Marion? No way…"

Dutch bellows a deep sigh and turns to Revy, saying "Do not call me Marion again. Ever. Eh…I suppose you all got a million questions and it's only going to be resolved with me answering them. Roscoe and I…we met in high school in Detroit and…well…I basically ruined his life."

He leans against the store counter and removes his sunglasses, putting them in his left pant pocket. Swimming through millions of thoughts in his head, Dutch, after several seconds, ultimately continues "I was young, and I was a bit too full of anger…and I was…well, Roscoe called me 'Don Quixote with a shotgun.' I was very naïve, and every single time that it got good for Roscoe and I…well…I found some excuse to get us into more trouble. That eventually got me enlisting the both of us in the U.S. Marines with the intention of deserting them and defecting into a Maoist Utopia. Well, after defecting, we weren't exactly welcomed by the Vietnamese, and so we ended up nearly starving in the jungles. Laos wasn't exactly so welcoming for similar reasons as in Vietnam, so we eventually stumbled into Cambodia. We actually helped the Khmer Rouge in a few engagements during the battle of Phnom Penh. I felt like Che Guevara himself until the government put the two of us in a military prison. There…I won't go into that today…not today…but eventually after destroying every good thing that was going for us, I got the two of us to break out, commandeered a U.S. patrol boat that was in Cambodia, maybe some SOG operatives ended up wiped out in Cambodia and the Rouge captured the boat and the U.S. kept quiet, and…well after all that…I dropped Roscoe off in Jakarta and I tried to forget about him for his own safety."

"Holy shit…I…wow I don't know what to say," Benny musters out, as he, Revy, and Rock stare in shock and amazement. Revy thinks of something to say, and then mutters "So…that patrol boat…that's the Lagoon?" Dutch turns his head to Revy, grimaces, and nods once. Looking down on the wooden floor, Dutch says "Ditching Roscoe in Jakarta was…well…what I thought was the most merciful thing that I ever did in my life. The guy has every reason to hate and despise my guts…hell I'd shoot myself if I was him. I pretty much destroyed any chance of him having a normal life…put him through things that no human should ever be put through…yet here he is…after so many years…and he's not even angry at me for leaving him in Indonesia all by himself. Some people…some…I need a break. Excuse me." Dutch steps out of the front entrance of the surf shop and onto the sidewalk. Revy taps Rock's shoulder and asks "The fuck you think is eating him up? Never seen Dutch like this."

Turning right, he walks aimlessly, his eyes glued to the ground. He reaches into his pocket for a pack of Natural American Spirit. Fishing a cigarette out, he pockets the pack and attempts to place the cigarette in his mouth. Suddenly, a few drops hit the sidewalk, a track of tears left behind…a track of decades of guilt and pain buried underground. The island of Ko Samui is silent except for the palm trees swaying in the breeze and the faint groaning from Dutch as he stumbles off the sidewalk and onto a field of grass, the sand and the shoreline several meters away. Lighting the cigarette, Dutch shudders as he whispers "Might as well rip the scab off now."