Ethan lay on the walkway of a water tower that was about a quarter of a mile away from the junkyard that the bikers were occupying. The commercial spotting scope wasn't as good as most of the ones he had used that were designed specifically for sniping, but it did the job well enough. He couldn't make out faces with it at this distance, but he could get a count of how many people were there, and any ways in or out. Which, this didn't look like the worst he had ever gotten into.
Around thirty, looked like about twenty men, and ten women. Mostly undressed women. He shook his head and reoriented into trying to see if he could spot any place that would be well suited to holding someone hostage. He couldn't see anything initially. Basements weren't common in Texas, just wasn't that practical with the geography, and typically trailers houses didn't have anyway to set one up. However further back in the actual junkyard there was a bobtail delivery truck without any wheels sitting on the dirt, and though hard to tell at this range, it looked like there was a padlock on the door handle.
"Eye to ear, come in ear," he said in to the radio.
His father returned, "Ear to eye, responding. What have you got?"
"Roughly thirty tangos that I can see. At the front and outside the fence are three ratty looking trailers, no vision inside. Looks like there is a locked up hulk from a bobtail Ford sitting on its belly towards the back. I can't see any kind of ingress from near the rear of the yard, just the gates at the front. I see a couple of shotguns leaned up, but none of the heavier artillery they hit my convoy with. Something doesn't feel right though, over," he replied.
"Copy that. Do you see anything like a van that has damage on it? From what I understand your men lit them up pretty good, but they didn't give a good description of what the vehicle was," was the return.
He looked at the yard again. He didn't think that they would have kept the getaway vehicle any longer than necessary. As he swept the yard he noticed a shed that had a door half open, and what looked like an uparmored one ton Chevy van with spiderweb cracks covering what he could see of the windshield. That had to be it. He liked Chevy and GMC vehicles because they stood up to that kind of modification well, and still had the power to get out of town left over.
"Eye to ear, that is an affirmative. Looks like an armored one ton van is back in a shed in the yard. Windshield looks like an abandoned shed in the summer. Hold one, new movement. Going silent and will report," he turned down the sound on the radio.
He put his eye back to the scope. Three bikes and a rather nice car pulled in. The men on the motorcycles weren't anything out of the ordinary as far as the rest of the bikers. It was the man who got out of the car that caught his attention. He was tall, blonde, and moved exactly like a Russian soldier. He had to be one of Bugakov's men. This was the first big move they had made since the trap on the cargo ship, and this was definitely a big move. There had been more subtle attempts, but they typically failed because they ran afoul of Roanapur itself, they acted outside what was the norm. This, he wasn't sure how to deal with it if they decided to move her now.
He kept the scope on the Russian. He didn't move like a spetsnaz, which meant that Bugakov may have had some regulars with him as well. He for sure wasn't a mafioso. He started talking to one of the older men sitting in a chair outside the nicest of the trailers, though going off body language he wasn't real happy with the fact he was even there. He must not have been someone in charge, just a message boy who didn't want to play message boy. The messenger started to get animated until the old man, who was much bigger than the younger man stood up and hit him in the face. What he wouldn't have given for a satellite mic to try to get an idea of what was going on. However he knew that it must have been an issue of payment, that kind of reaction was always a matter of payment.
The man stood up from where the blow had left him on the ground. He wiped some blood away from his nose, and then did the dumbest thing he could do. He started to act like he was walking away, and then flipped his sport coat back, grabbed the grip of a Makarov, pushed it down and racked it, and then put two rounds in the older man's chest. The older man stumbled back, but it didn't look like much damage was done, unlike the multiple shotgun blasts that took the Russian man apart. Ethan tried to focus a little better on the man.
One round had penetrated the really heavy looking leather vest, but lodged only halfway through the man's skin, the other had hit some kind of metal decoration and had stopped. Ethan had never seen it, but had heard that 9x18mm was weak enough that it could fail to penetrate. That said, there was a pair of scars on his right leg that had not made him believe it in the past.
"Eye to ear, come in ear," he picked the radio back up.
"Ear to eye, receiving. What is the news," he heard his father come back.
"Russian guy came in with three of the bikers. Think they had a dispute over money, and the guy I think is in charge cold cocked the Russian. Russian came back around with a Makarov, shot the man twice, achieved nothing. Russian got pulled apart with buckshot immediately after. Confirms my suspicions about who is behind this. I am thinking that this has put us on a deadline, because if they are having issues with the people who were supposed to have paid them, they probably have no reason to keep her alive," he really was hating how things were leading.
"Ear to eye, copy that. Your primary, your call. How do you want to handle this? Have ten marines ready and waiting for your order," was the return.
"Eye to ear, is Two Hand available for call," he asked.
There was silence for a second, "Two Hand to eye, what do you need?"
"Two Hand copy, I want you to go in and do what you do best. While you have them distracted I will provide long cover. How copy?"
"Two Hand to ear, copy and understood. Over. Returning call to ear," Revy signed off as she handed the radio back over.
"Ear to eye, ready for order," he heard his father come back.
"Eye to ear, order as follows. Two hand will go in for shock and awe on the bikers. I will provide long range support. You and your team will go through the gate hard, and retrieve primary. I still want to know where you all dug up a green dragon, but it should do the job. Dad, are you sure you really want to do this? You and your old service buddies there, you are at more risk than I am. I can go in there hard and heavy with Two Hand if needed," he dropped the call security for a second, actually surprised that he was actually worried.
"Caleb. I owe you this. I owe you way more than this for how I treated you. For what I did to you, and for what I made you into. We may not be spring chickens, but we are marines, and that never changes. Put them down as you need to, and we will pull her out. Ear over and out," Ethan was stunned for a second.
Maybe he just didn't want to believe that his parents could change. He really didn't know what it was like being a father. Hell, he didn't even know if he might have had any kids out there. He wasn't a prude, if he was horny, he found a woman horny enough to fuck, or with a good enough price. Also condoms were not necessarily that common in warzones.
He looked over the junkyard once again. They were pushing the car in, and it looked like to the crusher, with the corpse of the Russian in the driver seat. If you had to dispose of a body, that was one way to do it. The thing he didn't know, is how long until they decided to dispose of Sofiya. That was issue number one, and they didn't have time to wait until a better situation developed. It was either pull the trigger now, or possibly lose her before they had a chance.
"Eye to ear. Bring down the thunder," was the fateful call he made.
Ethan followed Revy with the scope of the rifle he had. It was not what he would have liked, he always found Dragunovs clunky to use. Anything based off the Kalashnikov design he found clunky, but it was what was available to him, and therefore he used it. He kept a watch as she walked up, still wearing a business suit for some reason, and started to ask a couple of the men something, probably acting like she needed directions or something. A Dragunov had an effective range of eight hundred and seventy five yards, and a quarter mile came to around four hundred and forty, so this was going to be fairly easy for him.
When he was sure they were focused on her he moved his sight over to one of the men toward the back near the trailers. He checked the range finder, and set the striation on the mans chest, checked the wind, moved over, and fired when he was sure of the shot. The 151gr full metal jacket round left the barrel at over 2,700fps and covered the distance in under two seconds, blowing through the man's heart, and dropping him where he stood.
All of the bikers turned to just stare at the corpse, not quite sure what was happening, until the rapid pops of Revy's cutlasses tore into them. It became a mad scramble to draw pistols from waistbands, or dive for long arms leaning against the buildings and furniture. The second a man would get his hand on a shotgun another 7.62x51mmR took him out of the fight. Then, 318 cubic inches of Detroit diesel power roared through at 40 mph breaking through the gate, and flattening a couple of the bikers out in the open. The M113 was not designed for subtlety, it was designed to get soldiers to the front under fire, so a flimsy chain link gate was not stopping it.
The bikers who had taken the car to the crusher had pulled their guns and fired, uselessly, at the apc. Sadly for them, they didn't have the sense to get out of the way as they did. The machine pushed forward to the the wrecked truck that they were sure held the captive Balalaika, and turned as it skidded to a stop with the rear of the vehicle facing the door. A squad of older men with rifles spilled out to take up security positions as Robert Coffey took a set of bolt cutters to the lock on the handle. Once it was taken care off he threw the door up, only to have to grab an arm with a bayonet that was headed straight for his chest.
"Hold on, I'm on your side. No gutting me please, that is only going to make this rescue more difficult. Well, maybe make a little difficult," he said to the frazzled and angry woman who had come out of the back of the vehicle like a grenade from it's launcher.
"Mr. Coffey, what a surprise. I would have figured, your, son, would have been the one to come for me," she said as she tried to calm her breathing.
"He is currently, target shooting with the targets out there, the same as that spitfire he works with. The Hell kind of city do you people live in" he asked her as he led her into the apc.
"To me, the best kind. Just, either give me a gun, or get me out of here," she said as the last man piled in, and the ramp was pulled up.
As they came to the front of the yard they saw nothing but bodies, and the two others of their rescue team. The ramp came down and the old soldiers piled out to admire the work. As she came out, Balalaika approached Ethan.
"Sofiya, these rifles fucking suck. Every shot the damn thing rattled like hell, and this is supposed to be a precision squad level rifle? What the fuck do you see in them," he said with a smile on his face.
The woman hugged him as she answered, "Did you miss?"
"No, I guess I didn't. Though I say that was more me knowing how to shoot than the quality of the rifle," he replied as he snaked an arm around her.
"You will never let it go, will you Mag," she laughed at his answer.
"Well, for someone who was just held hostage, you seem to be in fine shape, Sis," Revy said.
"How often does it happen, and not only that, but such a handsome rescuer leads the charge? Mag, I apologize for this whole thing. I was supposed to be used as bait it sounded like, these, wannabes, were supposed to hand me over to some group of Russians that were promising them payment. I fear that there is more than the one insect that has missed the web within my people. That said, they will not for long. Now, can we return to the hotel, so I can get cleaned up, and get some real sleep. How long has it been since they hit us?"
Ethan grimaced, "About two days. I was down for most of yesterday waiting to be triaged, and they got me done up. Then I got the info to find you, and my old man here had to be involved as a way to make up for the past. We got in place less than two hours ago, and had to hit them asap once they tore one of his people apart. They had this place picked out good. No homes within a mile, little chance of police response. Thank god. Now, we get the fuck out of here."
Balalaika nodded, "Mr. Coffey. How would you like to reset the pricing on the contract for five hundred million a year, set price for ten years, plus yearly housing fees where such are required."
Robert came up to her, "That is quite a bit more than I am comfortable doing an initial contract at, are you sure?"
"How many security company owners would engage in a military style assault to rescue only a potential contract? I believe that your services will be worth every cent."
Ethan had finally hit his limit on things and passed out on the sofa when they returned to the suite. Revy and Balalaika only looked at the man as his breath evened out. He was unique for sure, but they were amazed at how loyal he was to those he had a connection to.
"Sis, I, am, I am glad you are ok. I don't really know what to say right now, with everything that has happened the last few days," Revy wasn't used to the awkward stuff.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it. How bad was it fully, I don't want to know, but I, need to," she replied.
"You want the truth. We lost six. Petr, and Vassily died when they hit you with the garbage truck. It hit directly on the driver's door, that got Petr, the light post was across the front seats, and that took down Vassily. The response teams, made contact with the bikers quickly, but they had a fucking armored van with firing ports, they lost four. I don't know who, but I think Boris will when he returns. Are you ok," she noticed the older woman walk over and sit down in one of the chairs.
Balalaika shook her head, "I tend not to let other people see me in grief when my men die, but I am too tired to care right now. Petr didn't serve with me, he came out when the Soviet Union fell. Vassily, he, was one of my originals. He was never real creative, and was good at following orders, but his children, they are both very talented musically. He was so proud of them, always talking about them when he didn't have anything else to do. He lost his wife to malaria about three years ago, and they started staying with some of the other families when he had to be gone. I don't, I don't know how to tell them he won't be returning this time."
"Sis, you sound," Revy didn't know how to finish.
"Rebecca, as hard and cruel as I seem. As proud as I seem. I am still in so many ways Capt. Pavlovna, especially when one of my men dies. I still have to let their families know. I never know how to do it, no matter how many times I do. It is, easier when they simply pass due to sickness, or they just, stop. When it comes to things like this, they know what they do, and that there are risks. I was a disaster for days, maybe even weeks after those children. I just never let anyone see. I know that, my people know it happens, and that they will never think less of me for it, that they would think less if I didn't get like this. My men mean so much to me, they are the reason that I became what I am now. Bugakov, he has declared war now, I will be talking with Chang and the other bosses when I get back. We tolerated his clumsy attempts that occurred up to now, his men have been too arrogant to achieve anything. This, he has made a grave error."
"Do you want me to stay, or, do you want to be alone," Revy asked.
"Though it is embarrassing, I didn't come out of that completely unharmed. I am horribly stiff and sore at the moment. I hate to ask, but would you help me get myself cleaned up some? Just never talk about this to anyone," she said.
Revy wasn't necessarily comfortable with the request, but the woman had been through a lot, "Ok. Like you said, no one gets to know."
Revy followed her into the bathroom. Balalaika hadn't been joking when she said she was stiff, she was having trouble trying to get her suit jacket off. Between the two of them, they managed to get the older woman's clothes taken off, which gave Revy a decent view, and she was impressed.
"Wow Sis, I hope I look that good if I hit your age. Ethan had said that he turned down screwing you once, I think there is something wrong ith him if he turned that down. Even with the scars you have one hell of rocking body," Revy told the older woman.
"At least someone appreciates it. Oh, god I hurt. Can you get the water started, and make sure it is hot?"
"Sure thing," she said, and while she was doing so she got the chance to see Balalaika full frontal, and was actually shocked as she saw the scarring on her groin, "That, is, whoa. That, uh.."
"The same reaction that many men have had seeing it. Don't worry, as much as I hate these scars, I don't blame you finding them distasteful. I still feel the pain from them in my dreams at times. Can you help me in," the older woman was understanding of Revy's reaction.
"I can only imagine how much that hurt at the time. Did it," she started as she gave Balalaika support as she climbed over the side of the tub.
"Damage too much? No, if I decided I wanted a child, I still could, and I can still feel pleasure. It, mostly just keeps me from growing hair, and disgusts men who see it. Though, funnily enough, I told Mag about it, and he didn't say anything bad to me. I, kinda wish it coul," the hot water start relaxing the woman enough that she fell asleep.
Revy couldn't help but find herself thinking again, on how things might have been different. How she might could run away from all the bullshit, and the danger. She didn't know what she would do if she did. Not than many places really needed people like her. Roanapur, was a very specific kind of place where their kind could live, but, did she really want to continue to be that kind anymore.