"Maldita sea, vamos, suéltate. Suéltate. Maldita sea.(Damn it, come on, come loose. Come loose. Damn it.)," Roberta was not happy with how things were going now.
She was hoping that she could take care of her issue before Ethan came to look for her. Especially as she was embarrased that she somehow got her hair stuck in a bathroom stall door. She couldn't remember getting shot in the head, so she had no clue what was making her into such a clutz.
"¿Cómo sucede esto? Por el amor de Dios, necesito cortarme el pelo más corto. De acuerdo. Sólo necesito respirar y pensar en esto. (How does this even happen? For the love of god, I need to get this hair cut shorter. Ok. I just need to breath, and think about this.)," she grumbled as she tried to ignore the sharp pain that was running through her scalp.
If she was honest, she didn't know how she didn't get into more trouble with her braids. They were horribly impractical for any purpose, but they gave her good memories. One of the other young girls in F.A.R.C. had been a friend of hers early on, and had braided her hair like she wore it on occassian. Sadly, one of the higher ups had taken a liking to her, and used her until she was little more than a breathing doll, and then she was just abandoned in the jungle. She wasn't the only girl that happened to, and Roberta was very glad she was never one of them.
If she thought about it, that was the same day as the ambush. The one that lead her to put two rounds in Manuel's chest, that did nothing but knock the breath out of him. She had been so angry and sad that she had volunteered. She just wanted some way to get rid of those feelings.
Communism. The word left a foul taste in her mouth now. She had thought that the ideas, and the promises, were so grand she had run away from home to live in shithole camps in the jungle, and ended up being made into nothing but a monster. She was made into the bloodhound. It didn't help anyone, it just made a bunch of assholes rich, and how many innocent people dead.
"Hey Chica, we need to go, it sounds like they have a patrol headed this way. Ten, fifthteen minutes tops. If you have to pinch it off, we'll find another place, but this one ain't safe now," she heard Ethan call out.
She frowned as she tried to figure out what to do. She really didn't want to tell him what had happened, not to mention she was having difficulties trying to redo the wrapping of her skirt that he had done. She tried, and tried to think, but she just had to face it.
She took a deep breath, "Senor Haines, I may have run into a predicamento. I may need your help."
She managed to get her skirt wrapped up so she wasn't showing everything before he opened the door. He walked in backwards, keeping his sight down the hall until he closed the door. He turned around and looked at the situation. Strangely, he didn't laugh, or even look confused.
"Ah, well, not the first time I saw something like this happen. I don't know why women want to keep hair that long, always has the potential to get caught in something that causes an issue. You know what has to happen, right," he asked as he was already reaching for the bayonet.
"Si, I would rather not, but it will grow back. Please, be gentle and quick," she closed her eyes as he squeezed into the stall to get behind her.
She felt him grab hold of both braids and slowly saw through them. She had expected him to just rip the blade through her hair, and not try to be gentle like she asked. It almost felt as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Faster than she expected, she felt all the pressure come away from her head.
"I used to do my ex-girlfriends hair. She was a Mossad agent, so she tried to avoid going into public places where people got sharp implements near her head. If we get out of this, and you hate what I did, I will do my best to fix it. Come on, we need to get moving," he picked his rifle up as he opened the door to look out.
Roberta stepped out of the stall and looked at the mirror above the sinks. It, wasn't really all that bad. Her hair was down to her shoulders now, and not completely even, but it wasn't horrible. He did actually know what he was doing. She wouldn't have expected it from a mercenary.
"Gracias. I, appreciate it. Te dejaré intentar ordenar cuando estemos a salvo. (I will let you try to neaten up when we are safe.)," she couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw him smile slightly.
They managed to make their way to the alleys again. They went from doorway to doorway. If they had to cross an open street, they watched for several minutes, before they were willing to sprint across. They did their best to not stand out more than necessary. Even to the point of hiding next to piles of garbage bags to take advantage of the color of their clothes.
Two or three times they saw a patrol, or a unit that was rotating out of the main battle. They were able to lay low until they passed. There were still too many enemies to even think of engaging. The only real advantage the gangs had seemed to be Hotel Moscow's tank, which was not having a very easy time negotiating the streets, due to the Spetsnaz starting to push up barriers of cars.
Eventually they were able to figure out which way they needed to move. The bad news of that, was they had been moving deeper into enemy lines. Almost thirty blocks behind. What that also meant, was they were heading in the direction of the harbor, and the Lagoon Company warehouse and dock. The same warehouse that had been built to survive an absolute war. It also contained The Fucking Cannon.
Ethan immediately crossed that idea off of his list. If these assholes had any sense, then they were coordinating their operations from the harbor. That would give their commanders the easiest route to escape when things finally collapses against them.
"We need to start back the other way. This isn't a safe place anymore. We are probably going to have to get into a fight. I would prefer to stay out of conflict, but I dont' see that happening at this point," Ethan started counting the magazines he had lifted for his gun.
Roberta did the same, "I am not necessarily as delicate as my appearance, and that percance, would leave a person to believe. I am fully capaz y preparado to kill anyone that gets in my way of returning to the Young Master's side."
Ethan nodded, "His old man was a good one. He helped me out a long time ago. Just watching and listening to him, the kid has potential. If he has someone like the Bloodhound of Florencia keeping him safe, he should have a good chance to make something of himself.."
As they started moving Roberta started thinking about his words. Diego Lovelace had helped him at one point? It must have been a long time before she had come to them. She didn't remember them ever mentioning the man though, or teenager as he would have had to been most likely. How long had this man been a mercenary?
"Spasibo, serzhant. Ne pytaytes' ikh perekhvatit', oni mogut prinyat' vas za ugrozu. Snova i snova. Good news, one of our teams that got behind the lines noticed them. They seem to be ok, though he almost didn't recognize Roberta. Apparently she had to have an imprompto hair appointment," Balalaika turned to address the rest of the room.
"Fuck, I am going to kick Ethan's ass so hard for making me worry. That bastard should have already burned half the city down and came asking for a drink," the look on Revy's face didn't necessarily match her words.
The gathered heads of the city's gangs gave her a look that said shut up. While some of them actually cared about the safety of the two, their potential as weapons was much more important. Roberta was an almost unstoppable force that had damaged the city so much that the mere mention of maids caused slight panic, and Ethan was a veteran mercenary that had over a decade and a half of leadership and combat experience. If they came out of this alive, that was all well and good, but they wanted them to lay down damnation on the invaders in their city.
Chang shook his head, "Ok Fry Face, you are the only actual warfighter here, how bad are we really?"
"Honestly, better than we have any right to be doing. The Vysotniki managed to help stabilize the lines, and my regulars really surprised me with the tank. Boris finally broke down and told me it was supposed to be a birthday present. I would have rather had an expensive case of vodka, but it was a very fortunate asset to have at hand. Your men have surprised me in how effective they are at assaulting positions out of nowhere. Ronnie, why, just why, did you have so much munitions stockpiled like that," Balalaika turned to the young Sicilian leader.
"It wasn't really me, more my predecesor. I just never saw a reason to dispose of the stockpile. Thankfully I was lazy given the events. At least I have been of more use than those worthless Colombians," Ronnie looked at the empty place at the table.
Balalaika nodded, "Indeed. If it wasn't for the fact that I know how stupid Gustavo and his men are, I would almost assume they were involved. However, I also know that any self respecting Russian officer would not want to be involved with them. Right now, they control about a third of the city, from the port, to about five blocks from the Yellow Flag. Our casualties have thankfully not been fatalites for the greatest degree, while our men have no interest in sparing any of theirs. Which isn't a concern, seeing as we have no way to imprison them."
Another voice spoke up from a corner, "So, what is the hammer blow against them going to be, because I would really like to make sure my slip isn't looted."
"A hammer blow may be more than we are capable of right now, Dutch. While we have hundreds of men at our disposal, altogether we don't reach a thousand. We are keeping our heads above water through skill and knowledge of the city," Chang frowned, knowing the real concern Dutch had.
"Excuse me Sir, you can...," A massive form busted through the door, completely ignoring the terrified secretary.
Balalaika was the first to recover from the shock and recognize the man, "Uh, Mr. Coffey, this is a surprise."
"You, know the very rude Giant? How the Hell did he even get up here," Chang was confused.
"Yes, this so happens to be Ethan Haines' father, and if you see him even more angry than he is now, you will understand," the Russian woman did her best to hold her composure.
"Miss Pavlovna, I am assuming that you are the one in the largest portion of command. Are you aware, that somehow people are already talking about this in Bangkok? How the most dangerous city, has been half under the control of an outside entity for over fourteen hours. I get down here under concern of my son and granddaughter, and find out my son is behind enemy lines. So, do you have a plan," the room shook as Robert Coffey spoke, the anger in his voice making everyone uncomfortable.
Chang turned back to Balalaika, "Ok, I see what you mean. Damn, if his old man is this bad, I don't want to piss off Mr. Haines. Still, how did you get up here, how many men do I have fighting, and how many do I have to protect this place?"
Dutch pushed off the wall and walked over to the man, "I'm Dutch. Your son works for me, when I have a functional boat. I know how worried you are, I'm not too far from it, but these people aren't the kind you should anger. They will kill you and anyone that you care about."
"I've been dead since 1972, my body just wont stop breathing. These, I doubt they are anywhere as bad as the Viet Cong were. Let them try, I have something to keep me alive right now. Is there a plan for a breakthrough," the man turned from Dutch and addressed the gang leaders again.
Balalaika shook her head, "We don't have the manpower for one. Right now, we have the lines secured. No movement forward, or backward."
"How many men would you need?"
Ronnie looked over, "Excuse me, who the fuck are you, that can fucking ask that with a straight face?"
"He just so happens to own the security company that is going to be taking over the security at my legal enterprises. I thought that you did not want to get involved in such actions," Balalaika was shocked at the ease the man had in the implicit offer.
"This is my son we are talking about. I am not ready to hear he got killed in this shithole. The Thai government has no intent to come in to take this place back, unless all of you lose. Remember, information is logistics. How many men," he walked to the space that Gustavo should have occupied.
Chang looked at the numbers they had before them, "Two to four hundred."
"I can have six here with fifteen hours."
"Six, what good would that do," Ronnie laughed at the statement.
"Ronnie, sweetheart, people like me and him, only talk in scale. He meant six hundred. How many contracts would you have to draw from?"
Robert looked at her, "I don't give away all my secrets. However my company keeps that as a response force for the contracts in this part of the world. I may have to ramp up my regular security groups, but I only put the best in the response forces."
Revy chose to speak up then, "So, can I join? I am really pissed right now, and I am tired of sitting here. Dutch won't let me leave, he thinks I'm going to go off half-cocked and get myself killed."
"It never hurts to have a local onboard."
"Colonel Bugakov," a young woman called.
The man looked over, "What do you have?"
"Still no movement of the lines. We have three KIA, and four seriously wounded from a booby trapped Treker. There are also reports that someone caught a glimpse of a woman in a french maid outfit. She was carrying a 74u, alongside a man that was in a suit carrying a revolver,"was the report.
"That is interesting. What we got, was a rumor that a boogeyman from South America was supposed to be here. There is a definite fear of maids among the dwellers of this city. I would say that she might be that boogeyman. The man must be our target. Pull back the Trekers, send in a Gonchaya team. Once he is done, we will cleanse this city of the perversions. We will leave it for the good people, and the proper authorities to reclaim. Then, I will go throw myself upon the mercy of the Russian Federation," Bugakov looked off over the horizon of the harbor.
One of his commanders walked over, "Colonel. You have made no secret of your disdain for the Federation, called it weak compared to the Union. Why would you return? Why not make this city your own?"
"No Sokolov. I am not a petty tyrant. I am not a criminal like the vermin that dare fight us now. I am simply a soldier, and soldiers fight to protect."
Captain Sokolov looked at his Colonel. He hadn't followed him out of loyalty or sense of justice. He had followed because it seemed like it had the potential to be profitable. Why did the man care so much about others, when there was money to be made? The gangs they were currently fighting were proof of that. Why not take their place.
Bugakov walked over to another radio operator, "What are our current active forces?"
"Five hundred on the front. Two hundred fifthteen rotating. Seventy five Treker and Gonchaya units. Four hundred seventy five in reserve," the operator replied.
"Hm. I have to admire the tenacity of our enemies. Almost thirteen hundred against less than seven hundred, and a tank. I, don't understand why they have a tank, or where they came by it. I had not anticipated such a thing, or I would have made sure to bring appropriate countermeasures. Leave things as they are now."
Sokolov looked over, "Why not push now, and break them while we are fresh?"
"Because, that would be the most logical route. Logic, does not win battles. Soldiers win battles when they get bored."