The shaking boat made me feel a little queasy. Which is Ironic because the situation itself made me queasy, uneasy, nervous, unhinged… you know it, all the words from the dictionary, the lexicon, everything. Yet, even then, those words had something that I didn't. A definitive definition. For example, if I asked you what the word nervous means, you would know right? You would know because it had a straight definition, it has a point of familiarity that everyone is acquainted with.
But me? I was by no means in a definitive definition. What was I? A time traveler? A slider? A god? No, that couldn't be it. If I was a god, then I would simply be home and not have to deal with any of this bullshit. The only point of familiarity I have with the world and everybody living in it, was the simple fact that I was still human. I bled, shit, pissed, ate and slept (Albeit very roughly) as a Human.
Why was I here? How was I here? There's no clear concise answer no matter how long I think on it. I was in an underground base in Afghanistan, now I am here. Off the fucking coast of Thailand, saved by random people that knew me as much as I knew them. Which is of course, not knowing anything about them at all. From what I can gather, they know Sofiya Pavlovna, And Sofiya knows them. They think I'm a part of Sofiya's crew. Which of course, I'll happily lie about...except there's one small...no, scratch that, big problem. Sofiya Pavlovna wants me dead.
Why exactly, I didn't know. The best answer is either, A) Borris snitched. B) She found out about my rather...shady past. C) I'm awol and totally ditched them, she could be mad about that.. But why was she in Thailand?...
TCH!
I'm getting a fucking headache over here.
Why exactly was I in Thailand? Why exactly was she in Thailand? Why is the giant death ball robot thingy here? And where was it currently?
...Okay, Much like a test, I'll leave those questions for later. The more pressing matter was right now. The Americans are here, and they want me. Either alive or dead. For some reason, almost everyone is gone from the boat, save for two people that the guy called rock told me about.
So that means, rather than me, the Americans have a main goal. I'm just a secondary, optional side mission, the fact that they had all the guys on their team leave the boat as well, means that they're mission might probably be kind of important. Important enough to leave me alone for a spell, that means, that even though they have orders to either apprehend me or kill me, but haven't so much as left a sentry or handcuffed me to something, means that they don't really have any clue on what to do with me.
...Alright! Logical conclusion is that they didn't expect me to be here, they didn't KNOW that I was here, such as I. There's a seventy percent chance that...Sigh, If I'm correct...then, I time traveled, or slid into another universe. Sixty percent of me time traveling to the future (The only logical deduction) And Forty percent of me sliding into an alternate universe/timeline whatever the hell you call it.
...This was a stupid, absurd situation that I was in. But the point still remains, If I time traveled into the future, Then It would only make sense for Sofiya Pavlovna to want me dead. She would have time to stew on the fact that I was in the Mujaheddin killing her comrades left and right, faking my way into her unit and then seemingly disappearing? She would be mad, I would as well. It would only make sense for her to be all the way out in Thailand,( Because it's the future) It would make sense for the Americans to be so hesitant and cautious, it would make sense because I was off the grid, completely gone, wiped away from existence for a set amount of time that I still have no clue about.
What do you do, when someone who you looked for, for X amount of years, suddenly shows up? In someplace where you don't expect them? Of course you would be confused. Of course you would be hesitant...even more so if you were assigned to a different mission. You wouldn't know what to do. You have your main objective that has to be done, and then you have some random schmuck that has been gone for years. Suddenly appearing in front of you, of course you would be confused!
But that poses another question, do the Americans want me because of the files that I pilfered? Or do they want me as an asset? I must pose some sort of threat to them considering the fact that the common order is to either detain me or simply shoot me and leave me in some ditch.
What exactly was going on? I only have hypothetical's and guesses, and the only way I'm going to get any credible answers would mean going into the lion's den. I see three options I could take right now, and to be quite honest? They all suck.
One. I can always go to the Americans once they're done with their mission. But that's to fucking risky, goodbye my freedoms and liberty and hello a bullet or gunatnamo bay!... if I go down that route.
Two. I can always ask to be taken to Sofiya Pavlovna and risk getting shot on sight...Something tells me that she's a rather dangerous person to be around nowadays, so I'm going to have to refrain from going near her.
…. So that leaves me with the third option. Try to stick around these black lagoon people and use them as a sort of meat shield, and then ditch them at the first opportunity that I get. The fact that they haven't shot me dead on sight and or restrained me/ handed me over to the Americans means that they aren't hostile to me...yet. They still don't know what to do with me, much like the Americans.
…
I need some fresh air. My cigarette ran its course and I need something to help calm me down. Groaning a bit as I stand up from my bed, I can't help but grasp at my wounded, bandaged body. It doesn't hurt AS much as before, but the pain is still there.Reminding me that I was alive as I let out a sorrowful sigh.
Forcing myself to the door, I open it and get hit with the sight of a hallway. Great, what is this now huh? Absolute bullshit, that's what. The fact that I'm currently in a hallway probably means I'm in a boat that's specifically designed to hold people and to protect them by giving them cover and space to move around. In other words, I was most likely in a patrol boat or something. Under the deck and safe from view.
Can't get shit in this life. No fresh air, no shirt, nothing. Absolutely nothing at all huh?
A question brought me out of my thoughts as a gruff voice asked me a simple question.
"Can I help you?"
Looking at him now, he was tall. Muscular and downright intimidating. With a bald head along with sunglasses in doors for some reason, I was thrust face to face with a very intimidating tall black man.
An awkward pause passed by before I managed to gather my bearings.
"Why hello there."
"...Hello yourself. Now, May I help you?" He repeats firmly, eyes on my hands the whole time as he stands there humorlessly.
Ah shit, make something up, quick! Something tells me that an action to get fresh air is no different than an action to escape to him, especially in this situation!
"My...My blouse! My shirt, I...Would like it back please."
"..." He says nothing as he looks at me, sizing me up no doubt. Another second passes before he turns around and nudges at me with his head.
"Follow me."
I follow him.
"...Say, mr….taro...Correct?" He asks nonchalantly as he walks, his footsteps noticeably silent as he goes on.
"Yes, and you are?"
"Dutch. I'm the owner of this lagoon company."
"And if I may, what is the purpose of this company?" I ask, hoping to fish out something, anything really out of him.
"...Mainly just smuggling things, the works. We deal with criminals and such." He says after a pause, his pace neither quickening nor slowing.
"I see.. And what job are you currently doing now?"
"Sorry. Client confidentiality."
"I see, I apologize for asking then."
"Nothing to apologize about really. Not like you've pulled a gun on me or anything."
"Ah yes, A very unpleasant thing it is, having a gun pulled on you."
"..."
"..."
A pregnant pause filled the hallways as we continued to walk, making me feel even more uneasy than I already was.
"Say, you will work for anyone, correct?"
"...Yes?" He replies with a small barely notable hint of caution, it's small, but it's still there.
"How do you feel about moving me to Japan? I will pay you."
"An interesting offer, but I will have to decline. You've pissed off quite a lot of people, and one of them is a frequent employer of mine you see…along with the fact that the small handful of gold watches and necklaces is nowhere near enough for me to even consider working for you."
It was worth a shot I guess.
"So you intend on handing me over to them?" I ask sharply, already looking at my surroundings around me.
"No. In fact, I honestly don't have an idea on what to do with you. SHE'S not in a logical state right now, will probably have you shot on sight. I can't exactly give you up to the Americans lest I want to end up further entangled in the already wide web." He stops and ruffles something from a nearby box that rests upon an open cabinet.
"So I'm going to ask you one question. Simple as that."
"Shoot."
"Are you friend or foe?" He finally asks, now looking at me with my bloodied and dirty combat blouse in hand.
That was a good question from him. Was I his friend or foe? Well, it was a simple matter. If he tries to, or tries to kill me, then he's my foe. But if he keeps on acting civilized and a gentleman, then I suppose he's my friend. Not like I have much choice either way, I'm in a terrible situation, and in a completely new environment, beggars can't exactly be choosers now can they?
"I'm a friend." I say as I take the soviet blouse from his hands.
"...Very well. We'll talk later. Benny is down the hall to the left, so if you need something, talk to him. I'm currently busy with some things."
"Oh my, quite the courteous one aren't you?"
"My ship, my home. And in a home, you must follow basic manners." He says now as he walks past me, avoiding me as he continues on.
"Well, I thank you for your hospital then."
"...It's pronounced hospitality, and you're welcome." He says with a slight chuckle, never once stopping as he continues down the hallway, hands in his pockets.
"...I'll keep that in mind." I mutter silently to myself as I put on my soviet blouse, my body no doubt aching as I do so.
..Shit, that hurt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I could only watch with mild confusion and a raised brow at the carnage before me. A bloody and battered black haired woman leaning against the wall of the boat. The kid Garcia comforting her and holding her hand tightly. Another small young lady, most likely in her teens in a maid outfit for some reason right alongside Garcia. The lady with the ripped up jean shorts cursing and yelling, along with the guy named rock holding her back and telling her to calm down.
"YOU! YOU SON OF A BITCH! ALL OF US NEARLY DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!" She screams as she pulls out a gun on me.
"REVY! NOT NOW!" He yells clearly estranged like her.
"LISTEN UP YOU COCK SUCKER! YOU'RE GONNA TELL US WHAT EXACTLY THE FUCK WAS THAT ROBOT AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL US NOW!"
"...You met the robot?" I saw with a raised brow, still dumbfounded by this situation.
"YES! AND WE DAMN NEAR GOT KILLED BY IT- YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M GONNA FUCKING SHOOT YOU!"
"REVY!" Rock said once more, this time louder as he continued to hold her back….Just barely however.
"..." I say nothing, not knowing what to say exactly. They met the Robot, almost got killed by...wait, where were the Americans?
"ANSWER ME ASSHOLE! THAT ROBOT KILLED ALL OF THOSE AMERICAN AGENTS AND NEARLY KILLED US! WE BARELY ESCAPED WITH OUR LIVES YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!" She screamed once more, this time succeeding in breaking out of Rock's grip now as she held two guns directly at me.
Well, that answers my question.
"ANSWER ME NOW!"
Ah shit, she looks like she's actually going to shoot me.
"...It's name is RAPHAEL. It was created by soviet scientists."
"...AND?"
And? And what woman? What do you expect me to say? That it has the fucking US, GRU, KGB, hell possibly even more scary governments and groups looking for it? That I found it out of pure coincidence underground in a makeshift bunker complex that housed both a soviet and American plane along with two nukes? You would just shoot me either way!
Along with the fact that all of the above mentioned parties have an alibi throughout the years that could possibly come into question by me...Wait a minute… An alibi! Holy shit!...I'm a fucking genius!
"I was tasked to destroy it." Random bullshit go!
"Tasked..to DESTROY IT! IF YOU'RE TASKED TO DESTROY IT, THEN WHY THE HELL WAS IT NOT DESTROYED? HELL IT WASN'T EVEN FUCKING DAMAGED WHEN IT ALMOST KILLED ALL OF US!"
"...There was...unforeseen circumstances. Bottom line? The whole reason that I was in Thailand was because of it."
"....Lying." I hear in a faint low voice.
"...He's LYING!" This time it was Garcia. His blue eyes barely held back the tears now as he looked at me with a shaky scowl.
"He told me that he thought that he was still in Afghanistan! The kid said, managing to force out the words in a shaky breath.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Well?" This time the woman named Revy asked, not in a loud, screaming rage, but this time in a low whisper, her finger just moments away from pulling the trigger.
"...I was hit in the head. You know how concussions are."
"YOU SAID IT FERVENTLY!"
"Son, if you dream of Afghanistan every night you go to bed, then you would be in it fervently if you ever got knocked around hard in the head." I replied in a low voice, damn near a growl as well, surprising even me.
"..." The woman said nothing now, but I can notice a slight twinge, a small barely noticeable shake in her hands as she aimed both guns at me.
"Fact of the matter is, I was tasked to destroy it. Something happened and it awoke. Then you found me. It's pure coincidence that you know Sofiya Pavlovna, even more so that I ended up in Roanapur."
"Who do you work for? Who tasked you to do this" This time it was Rock. His narrowed eyes indicated that he was out of patience as well.
"Client confidence. I cannot tell you and I will not tell you. Simple as that." I say with narrow eyes challenging them. Well, it's not like I can name drop anybody anyways, I worked for no one after all, no one except myself.
"Then I hope you didn't want an open casket, because after i'm done with you, not even your mother will recognize you!"
"It's client confidentiality, and no Revy. You're not going to shoot him. He's more important to us alive." A deep voice rang out throughout the room. Looking at the source, it was a man named Dutch.
"What! Dutch?" The woman said in confusion now, looking at the tall with both guns still trained on me.
"If you can't tell us who your client is, then can you at least confirm one thing?"
"Are they based in Japan?"
"..." I say nothing as the sweat starts to drip down on my face. Shit! I fucking outed myself!
"The fact remains. The robot is not destroyed, and it's running amok. You failed your task. You wanted to run from whoever ordered you to destroy the robot. I can see it now."
"..." I remain silent as I try and desperately try to think of another lie, anything really to get out of this situation.
"You wanted to run all the way to Japan, you think that you're a deadman. It all makes sense now, I merely glimpsed at the files that you had on your body but you're clearly involved with many high ranking powers. Meaning that an organization we don't even know about is now intending on killing you"
"I had Benny look you up. There was never any Yamada Taro in the red army. There were no photos of you in Balalaika's unit at all. And yet, Balalaika wants you dead. Thing is, I can't even check with her, if I called her, then she would know that I have you on my boat. And given her current temperament, Calling her would be a bad idea."
"Who. Are. You?"
"....I already told you, I'm no foe of yours. I never intended to involve you in this business and I still don't. Just drop me off somewhere, and pretend that all of this never happened, and it shall be so. You can still get out while you still can." Yeah, because there isn't any organization chasing me dumbass, I made it all up.
"Oh no you don't buster! You're gonna answer our questions and you're gonna answer them now!" The woman that wield two pistols with two hands growled, clearly not amused nor satisfied by my answer.
"..I'm sorry, but you're too dangerous. I'm handing you over to Balalaika." Dutch said after a pregnant pause, his stoic face not giving away anything whatsoever.
… Shit.
Great, I'm dying later. Fucking Yay!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The waves of the dock could be heard as I was forced at gunpoint by the two handed pistol holder of a woman to exit the boat. The smell of saltwater hit my nose immediately as soon as the hatch opened up, the woman merely cocking back the trigger as a signal for me to start climbing.
The bright sunlight and view of the dock hit me instantly as I exited the interior of the boat. I didn't have time to enjoy the view however, as "two hands" over there soon climbed the ladder, forcing me to move. Get it? Two hands? Because of her two guns? Yeah I know it's lame but whatever.
Soon, I got to the gunwale, and with the ever threatening presence known as Revy behind me, I slowly and nervously got off the boat.
The soft creak and thump of the wooden pier from boots could be heard as I continued to slowly walk. Both in tandem with Revy and the woman known as Sofiya Pavlovna. Hey, the slower I walk, the longer it takes for me to get into a confrontation with her.
No sooner than when my feet hit the concrete of the dock, I heard it. The all too familiar cock of a gun. No, scratch that, many guns. The dock seemed empty...save for the many familiar men around me. All of them wearing the ironic blue beret of the Red army.
...No, double scratch that. They weren't all men. There was a woman with them. And triple scratch that. The woman with them didn't wear a uniform, no. She wore a suit. A red suit complemented with a skirt and leggings. With heels and her combat coat draped around her shoulders, her clear blue eyes locked on to mine, as if I was an enemy.
This wasn't shocking however. The most shocking thing was… well, she didn't look a day over twenty. She looked exactly the same as when she got nabbed by the Mujaheddin fighters that ambushed us. Great, another mystery to solve!
I stop in front of her, mere meters away from her now as she looks at me with a stone cold face. Her eyes and current expression betrays nothing. A heavy silence fills the air as we both look at each other, studying each other intently.
A damn near minute passes before she reaches for her pistol, a stechkin that I'm all too familiar with.
"Whoa there, comrade Pavlovna, didn't your mother ever tell you that it's impolite to raise a weapon on someone like that?" I asked with a raised brow, already thinking of what to do next.
She stops, she looks shaken, even confused for a second. A second being the keyword here. Because she soon replaces her expression with Rage. Fury. Anger. And through all of it, she growls out one word.
"Yuri."