A/N: Ok really, hateful reviews. Are the people on here really that immature that they can not relay their opinions without vulgar language and derision towards the author of a story. I just moved to Arizona so I really don't need a lot of stress. Due to this I may not be able to update for a while. So don't think I am abandoning Roanapur, I am just vacationing in Ethan's apartment in Albania. The restaurant downstairs needs to change the oil in the fryer bad.

Chapter 10

Gunfire relaxed Ethan. Most people felt surges of adrenaline, either from excitement or fear. Most people weren't used to it like he was. He many times had heard it nonstop for days on end in places most people would never see. It was something that had soaked into his very being.

Target practice to him was a kind of tranquilizer in times of high stress. Having a rouge Spetsnaz colonel after your life was about as stressful as it could get. So Ethan was currently working out the cobwebs from the place in his head where he kept all his combat skills tucked away. He was performing shooting and melee drills for hours on end each day the Lagoon was in port. When it wasn't he spent as much time tuning his guns as he did the engines.

So far the Russians had declined to show themselves, but it was only a matter of time until they did. He would be ready. He felt that he had to survive this for some reason he couldn't quite place. No romantic attachments, the people he ran with were always expecting to die, and he wasn't exactly that attached to life himself.

"Hey Ethan," Rock said, waiting a second before descending the stairs into the engine bay, "We just came within sight of the freighter. Dutch wants you up top just in case."

The mercenary nodded and stood up replacing the 10mm in its holster under his arm. Climbing the steel stairs into the light of day he saw the vessel. An American built medium freighter. There were literally thousands of them out there due to the thriving shipbuilding industry along the East Coast of the U.S.. Ethan himself had worked at least a half a dozen of them.

This particular one was carrying a cargo of automotive parts bound for South Africa coming out of China. That wasn't what they were here for though. They wanted the twelve crates of AK74 rifles that had been smuggled on board for the Rip Off Church. His understanding though was Balalaika was ordering them through the church instead of going through some other channels in an attempt to improve relations between the two organizations.

Removing the vest as he entered the main cabin he nodded at Dutch as he picked up the belt to his .38 and swung it around his hips securing the buckle and then tie down with expert precision. Taking the pistol from a hook over the shelf the belt had lain he flicked the cylinder open and checked the load. Satisfied it was full he flicked it closed and went out on deck.

Lately jobs had been routine, however after the events with the Vietnamese pirates Dutch was taking no chances. Revy and Ethan boarded first and did a sweep, then Rock would board and deal with the paperwork with Revy guarding him and Ethan mingling with the crew, and only if Ethan felt everything was ok and the paperwork was right was a transfer made. With this system they had not had any trouble from any of there contacts.

Due to a rush order though Dutch had decided to risk just having Revy and Rock deal with the ship alone and keep Ethan in reserve if trouble arose. Ethan had some reservations about the whole idea. Caution was every great mercenary's watch word. The reason they became great mercs instead of just good.

Spotting Revy he strode over to stand next to her, "Asking if you were ready would be rhetorical. Just try not to shoot someone for fun over there. And call for me if anything big breaks out, I hate when people forget to invite me to a party."

The half Chinese gunslinger smirked, "Pouting because you were sidelined, grow a pair."

"I already grew a pair. I just have one of those feelings in my gut that tells me something is not going to go right with this one. Usually I end up being right. Keep Rock's head where it belongs," Handing something to her he retreated to his usual spot on the of the cabin.

Revy could tell by the feel that the man had handed her a pair of extra magazines. Not something that would stick out to most people who knew her, but to her it showed that something really worried him. Tucking them in her pocket she called Rock over.

"Ethan has a bad feeling about this job, get the boring stuff done quick so we can get going before shit goes south, got it," She said smoothly.

She wouldn't openly admit it to anyone, but she had come to trust Ethan since she started working with him so closely on the ships. He had good instincts for anything that could be off, and was better with a gun than she was. She was almost able to say he was better than Chang, but she would wait to see the two of them fight side by side to determine that one.

However she had also started to feel something for him. Nothing romantic, more like a kinship. They were both products of pain and violence. They had sought payment in blood and walked among the dead. Their best friend was not flesh and blood, but steel. Death was their only goal.

She snorted as she dismissed the thoughts. He was street trash. She trusted him because he did his job right and covered her back, and that was it. Anything else was just her well suppressed feminine side trying to get to the surface. Right now she needed baddass Revy Two Hands the gunslinger, not Rebecca the lost child.

Rock sighed once more. The ship may have been an American made vessel, but the captain was from Turkey, and seemed to not understand that all he had to do was initial in several spots and then sign the last page and they would be done. Instead he kept asking Rock in broken english how he was supposed to sign his full name on such a small line.

Honestly he had never encountered anyone this stupid. After the first ten minutes he had contacted Dutch to tell him that he was having some troubles with the man. While not happy about the delay Dutch had said to do what he could to expedite things so they could get out of there as soon as possible. Rock really wished that he had not been so thorough when he had setup the forms.

For some reason though he felt as if this was some delaying tactic. There was no possible reason for this guy to have become the captain of a ship if he could not grasp the concept of filling out paperwork of the sort needed to transfer items between ships. If he was trying to squirm his way out of the deal then why not tell them straight out.

"Pardon me for a moment would you sir," Rock asked standing.

The captain nodded as he read something on the piece of paper in front of him. Nudging Revy the two stepped outside the office and went a few yards down the deck.

Rock took a small earpiece from his pants pocket and put it on and activated it, "Ethan, Dutch, something is seriously wrong here. The captain seems hardly able to put his shoes on let alone sign paperwork. I think Ethan's gut may be rig..."

The last thing he comprehended was both him and Revy hitting the hard steel of the deck before blackness overtook him.

"Rock, Rock, ROCK. Come in Rock. Fuck, Dutch I'm boarding it," Ethan hammered out before taking off at a sprint towards the ladder currently secured between the two craft his gun drawn.

Climbing as fast as he could he reached the deck quickly. Pulling himself aboard he scanned for signs of life. Detecting none he started to search the top deck. He considered calling Dutch and having him help, but someone with combat skills needed to stay with the Lagoon. Scanning the aisles between the containers he found nothing, however he discovered something next to the hatch leading into the interior decks that caused him concern. There on the ground lay one of Revy's prized cutlasses. Picking up the pistol he could tell that it had a full magazine, which meant that Revy had been taken down without a fight.

The adrenaline in his system suddenly dropped leaving him in a cold sweat. If something could take her down, then he might be out of his league on this one. That is unless they managed to catch her from behind. Tucking the gun in the waist of his jeans he slowly opened the hatch, his revolver at the ready in front of him. Most vessels had lights on all the time since there are several duty shifts the sailors work, but this one was dark.

If there was one sign something was off it was a dark ship. Reaching to a sleeve on the back of his holster he withdrew a small maglite and clicked it on. Going cabin to cabin he cleared them searching for signs of where his crewmates had been taken to. Most likely down closer to the engine room due to the thicker bulkheads.

Continuing to clear the rooms he at times felt like there was someone following him, however he would turn around to find thin air. This got more and more frequent as he got further into the vessel. As he was backing out of a room on the same deck as the engine room something hit across his back.

Falling hard his gun and flashlight skittering across the floor Ethan flipped onto his back in time to receive a rifle butt to his face. Groggy but conscious he sent his foot out and caught his attacker in the stomach. Getting to his feet he drew a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. Using a reverse grip he confronted his opponent.

Around 5'7", 157lbs, and wearing Spetsnaz issue combat gear. It didn't take the merc long to figure out that he may have walked right into a trap. It worried him more when the soldier copied him a nd came at him with a blade. In truth had he been completely clear headed Ethan wouldn't have worried. Having been smacked with what appeared to be an AKS-74 he wasn't as sure as he would have been. Standing 6'3" and weighing 210lbs he had the physical advantage. The soldier however had the agility advantage, which he didn't seem to be taking

Watching the soldier's movements he figured it out. When he had kicked out he must have broken the man's ribs resulting in him not being able to outmaneuver his larger prey. Which meant with a simple shift of his weight and a flick of his wrist Ethan was the victor. Retrieving his weapon and light he never noticed the second man until a large pipe wrench was brought down on the back of his head incapacitated him.

A/N: Ok disregard the most of the first author's note. I wrote that when I started this chapter. I have been in Arizona for around three months now. I do, however, stand by my comment on hateful reviews. If you have something to say, do it politely or leave it unsaid. I thank those of you who can act like an adult when leaving a review criticizing something about my stories you don't like. See you next chapter.