"Hey Ethan, you said you spent a little while in Venezuela didn't you," Benny asked out of the blue.
Granted there really wasn't much to do while waiting for rendezvous in the middle of open water, but most of the time the crew kept to their own areas. However it was one of those days that it was just too miserable to stay down in the interior of the boat. So they had thrown a couple of fishing lines over, cracked open some beer, and were lounging on the foredeck.
"Yeah, Mexico, down to Peru, ran from there into Colombia escorting aid convoys to civilian areas. That was actually my happiest time. I was running with an older merc, Manuel Escoberas, man was basically the father that I had never had. Remember that my old man was a piece of utter shit. Anyways, we were running protec on Médecins Sans Frontières convoys. Mainly medicine and medical supplies. A place like the back jungles of Colombia though, they are worth more than platinum is to a musician. Usually we had some of the smaller rebel groups try to hit us, but it only took a couple of casualties on their side to send them scattering. We really never considered there ever being a threat to us during the time.
Then one day in 82, I was still young in the game, only fifteen, we were doing a pretty typical run. Went from Bahia de Piňas to some backwater village once a month, and we were on retainer. They chose to hire us somewhat local mercenaries since we spoke spanish and english both. We had just crossed the border, the soldiers there gave us their usual disapproving looks, but we were legit in it all. Fuck, the frog in charge of it all even managed to get us some badges that identified us as volunteers somehow.
This time was a little different. We were headed to a village in Norte de Santander. There was some kind of disease outbreak there. Can't remember what the hell it was. Anyways the head truck locked its brakes up. Manuel had given strict orders that we do not stop for anything less than a complete mechanical breakdown, so he was pissed, and more than a little paranoid since he knew that F.A.R.C. groups operated in the area. Anyways we head up the line to the head truck, the other mercs taking positions on overwatch. We get there and notice a girl lying in the road about a hundred yards up ahead of us. Barely dressed, couldn't tell if she was breathing no human habitation for at least eight miles in any direction.
Little fact about Manuel, he had worked for the C.I.A. in Laos training insurgents, some term that Langley came up with. During that time he developed a soft spot for children, and could not stand to see them suffer. That was part of the reason that he took me on as his... I'm not sure what you would call it. Anyways he tells me to wait there and goes up ahead to look. Before he does he hands me his gunbelt and .45, and just takes his old 177 out with him, saying something about being able to run faster without that damned horse leg flapping against his leg.
He gets out there kneels down, and the girl rolls over and puts two in his chest. Hell break lose. Even though I was still a kid, I knew he was gone and got down to business. They hit us from pretty much all sides. The civvies were the first to die, no surprise since they had no common sense to take cover. Some mercs ran into the foliage. I got clipped a couple times and just jump in the head truck and take off. I got a good look at the puta's face. I speed off and start going in and out of conciousness. Somehow I managed to get across the border at an unmonitored checkpoint and crash the damn thing just outside the boundaries of some big estate.
How I got there, no clue. It was not close to the border, and it was fairly big. One of the noble families, I think it was Lovelace, but don't quote me on it. This guy, I know his first name was Diego, takes me in and gets me treated for my injuries. I spent a month in and out of this world and finally came together enough that I was able to get him to help me get back to Panama. I think I passed through there once or twice before I left that side of the globe.
Shit, I ever find out that bitch is alive and find her, im going to take and put two in her chest like she did to Manuel."
Rock looked at the mercenary strangely, "You met Diego Lovelace. We happen to know his son, though that isn't really a good thing. Especially considering their servants. You asked about the reason maids are kind of a sore spot in Roanapur. One of their maid's was a F.A.R.C. super assassin. Rosarita Cisneros, "The Bloodhound of Florencia"."
"Shit, she's still alive. I heard that even her comrades were relieved when it was reported that she had gone missing. I'm pretty sure that most of the stories that concern her were exagerated to make her seem unstoppable, but she scared people shitless whenever that title got mentioned. Glad I never came across her."
"Yeah, they don't exagerate her," Revy snorted.
"Yeah, she literally brought the city to its knees twice. Once recovering the Lovelace heir, Garcia. The second time hunting the US unit that killed his pops. It was a bloodbath both times. I don't think poor Abrego has been the same since," Benny said from the side as he fought to reel a fish in.
Ethan looked over at Revy, "Was she the one you were telling me about a few months ago?"
"Yeah."
"Well shit. I am really glad I never came across her. Fuck, it sucks about Diego too. He was a nice guy, I can't see why anyone would have wanted to kill him. How did it happen?"
"From what we were told, this unit was after a general that was for something against Washington's interests. They sent them down and they blew up the stage. Never got to meet him ourselves, but his son spoke highly of him."
Dutch raised his eyebrows, "Actually I can see some similarities between you and her. Maybe it was the area you grew up in and the whole child soldier thing. Though I have heard some rumors going around there was more to her."
Ethan snorted, "Her background was common knowledge over there in the underground. Went from a F.A.R.C. brat, to Cuba to train with Castro's best and brightest, even some of that piece of shit Guevara's students. After that she was hired out to whomever was willing to pay the most, made a good bit of money for the rebels."
"Wow, that is quite the resume. Glad that we were never actually her targets, no we just got put in her crosshairs by happenstance and the Colombians not having a brain the size of a bean among them," Benny said through gritted teeth trying to reel the fish in still.
Ethan grew tired of watching the computer geek fight with it and got up, picking a bow up as he did. Reaching the spot next to Benny he nocked and arrow with a rope on it and fired. Pulling him and the smaller man managed to get a decent sized tuna on the deck.
"Where the fuck is that ship."
The container ships crew were fond of street fighting as a way to pass the time. For that reason they always left a fairly good sized square on the top deck so that they could indulge. They rarely got to challenge anyone else to fight, so the pirates they were meeting were an excellent opportunity. Especially the two big ones.
That was how Ethan ended up in one corner of the square while the Armenian freighter captain was in the one across from him. All the tall lean American was doing in the time was watch the slightly porky opponent shadow box and waste his energy. Shaking his head he turned to his crew mates.
"So what are your stakes so far?"
"About two grand right now on their captain, and we stand to make four on you. Try not to beat him to death. It wouldn't look good, and I dock your pay. Lose and I dock your pay as well," Dutch said flatly.
Ethan chuckled, "Well, I don't seem to have much of a choice."
"Fighters to the center."
Ethan stood toe to toe with the other man, who stood several inches taller than him. The mercenary's only thought about the guy was that his breath was horrible. He was going to have a hard time taking him seriously, and not seriously injuring him.
"Fight!"
It was over in three moves. Ethan hit with a short punch to the captain's gut, put a knee to his face as he doubled over, and laid the inside of his right foot against the left side of the man's face. It was a true showing of practiced skill and knowledge over, well stupidity.
"Attention all Fuckers. We prefer cash payment, and can only accept cash payment. So pay up," Revy announced.
Obviously these men were still in shock that their captain, the reigning champ on the ship, never even got to throw a punch. So anger was to be expected, as was some calls for them to get the fuck off their ship before they threw them off, and the death threats for playing them as suckers. And to be honest there wasn't really even a reason for them to have stayed for the event since the cargo had already been transferred. They had a pretty good idea of the outcome before they agreed to it though.
"You pirates, think you are so tough. You are some kind of black belt in muay thai or something," the captain asked from the ground.
Ethan looked down, "I've been a mercenary since I was fourteen years old. I've beaten men to death with my bare hands more than once. Some in street fights, some in the middle of battle. You had lost before you even challenged me."
"HAHAHAHA. You are smart. You've earned that money. Men, cough it up, and then help me down to the sickbay."
"Mmm, I must say Heidi, this is some really great tea. The hospitality of this office had always been lacking before you."
Smiling Heidi wrote out,'Thank you, Miss Balalaika. I do my best. I must say that I was very lucky to stick a gun in Ethan's back out of everyone I could have. Food, shelter, and pay at sixteen, and I don't even have to take my clothes off.'
"Yes, for a girl your age that is a very rare thing here. I have doubts that you would have found anything half as great had your family remained in Belgium. Is it true that Revy is teaching you to shoot?"
'Yes. Ethan gave me a small pistol that is just right for my hands. Revy thinks that I am actually quite good too. I went from not being able to even hit a target to hitting the bullseye about eighty percent of the time. Revy even said that if she hasn't died by the time I am eighteen she is going to teach me to shoot two handed.'
"That is quite a show of respect and affection from her. Though I am not sure following in her footsteps is quite a good idea. She is prone to putting herself in very hazardous situations without considering the consequences. I know that Mag has a wish for you to leave this place at some point. I would follow that wish, and try to make a life for yourself in a city that doesn't chew a person up like Roanapur."
'We shall see.'