CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, TWO YEARS BEFORE THE EVENTS OF "THROUGH THE YEARS"... Things had quieted down considerably after the sun went down near the museum. Paramedics were still looking over Irene "Rally" Vincent's injured shoulder after she had killed Natasha Radinov in self-defense a few minutes ago. Sitting next to her, "Minnie" May Hopkins, her hands still bandaged, gingerly held her cup of hot chocolate. "So... has the adrenaline wore-off yet, Rally?" the blonde explosive expert asked, noticing her friend's silence. "Yeah, I guess," Rally answered, still thinking about the previous events. Some days ago, the two were 'recruited' by A.T.F. agent William "Bill" Collins in a gun smuggling sting. For a while, it seemed that might go well - until the leader of the gun ring, Chicago mayoral candidate Edward Haints, along with Collins' boss and personal friend George Black, contracted Radinov to 'take care' of the bounty hunter and her friend. After some deaths - and Haints betrayal of Black - both Rally and Radinov faced-off each other - with the hitwoman ending up on the losing end. But after that, Radinov tried to kill Rally one last time, but the fire axe she used to try to kill her was deflected by a gunshop by Collins, which allowed Rally, despite an injured gun arm, to empty her CZ-75 into the part of Radinov's body that wasn't covered by her bulletproof coat - which was her chest area. "Hmmph... boy that was a waste of a couple of days. And now because of this," she pointed to the knife wound on her right shoulder, "it looks like we both are going to be spending a couple of days in the hospital." "I know," groaned May, looking at her bandaged hands. "Well at least you two are going to spend just a couple of days," Collins wearily said, looking more heavily bandaged than Rally and May, "I'm going to have to spend a couple of WEEKS there - thanks to that bomb Radinov set in the safehouse!" "Serves you right," Rally laughed, "but in the end, it was a good thing you survived. Thanks for the save back there." She then turned and added, "And as an extension of that thanks, what about the license to the gun store? How long are you going to hold that up?" "Well, about that..." Collins began humorously. "BILL!?" both Rally and May yelled angrily. "Just kidding, just kidding, now pull back the claws, Pussycat!" Collins interrupted, not wishing for a scene. "I've taken care of the paperwork before all this happened. It shouldn't take too long, then after that, you and May should be back in business in about two days." Rally sighed in relief. "Good," she said. "By the time me and May get out of the hospital, we can get the shop opened." "Which in my opinion," Detective Roy Coleman added, accompanied by Becky 'the Nose' Farrah, "is quite the ideal. So, I've got a little custom job I'm looking forward for you to make. Care to do it, Rally?" "Not to mention you've still got my fee to take care of," Becky added. "So how about it... are you feeling game?" If it were any normal situation, Rally would've lunged forward and strangled Becky for her money-grubbing comment - but at the time, her shoulder hurt too much to do so, not to mention that she was right about it. "Okay Becky, Roy," she laughed, "I give up. Roy, as soon as I'm discharged, I'll get that custom job taken care of. And Becky," she added, just as she saw Radinov being zipped into her body bag, " as soon as Roy pays me for the job, you'll get your fee." "Fair enough," the information expert said. "That's good," Coleman added, and then patted Rally on her uninjured shoulder. "I'll ride in the ambulance with you and May." "Hey, how about me?" Bill pleaded. "Sorry, Bill," Rally smirked as she was helped onboard the ambulance by Coleman, "but you get to ride alone. You see, me and May have this 'problem' of allowing snakes to ride with us." Collins sulked as the doors were closed and Rally and May took off for the hospital. As he was led to his ambulance, he cast a pleading look at Becky. "Sorry," she said as she walked away, "I have to make sure to get Rally's car to the body shop. Radinov caused a lot of damage to it, you know." "Great," Collins groaned to himself as he was led to his ambulance. COOK COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE, LATER THAT EVENING... Radinov's nude body laid upon the examination table as two coroners walked, preparing for her autopsy. "If you ask me," one of them grumbled, "I say forget the autopsy, box this murdering bitch up and bury her along with all the other homeless in an unmarked grave." "Forget it," his companion answered. "You remembered the last time someone did a D.N.S. on a stiff, the police got all over the office's ass because of it! No, we're going to do this by the book. The F.B.I. and Interpol need the reports." The other coroner grumbled his objections but did nothing otherwise. The second coroner then turned on the recording device and began with, "Starting examination of female, approximately twenty-five to thirty years of age, cause of death due to multiple gunshot wounds. The subject is apparently in excellent physical health, which supports initial observation. Now beginning the Y-incision." He then bent over Radinov's body with a scalpel and prepared to open her up. But before he could get a chance, the fire alarms in the building suddenly went off. "Oh crap," the second coroner muttered, setting aside the scalpel, "looks like we're going to have to wait until later." Quickly placing a fireproof cover over the body, the two then made their way out of the examination room. What they didn't notice as they left was the shadowy forms to two individuals as they made their way to the covered body. XXX The whole incident was over in five minutes. From what the fire department was able to find, someone had pulled the fire alarm switch near the examination crypt, triggering a false alarm. Thus relieved, the two coroners returned to the crypt, hoping to complete their autopsy. "Boy, that was a strange incident," the first coroner told his companion. "We don't get that many false alarms around here." "Was it about as strange that you were actually going to vote for that crook Haints for mayor?" the second put in, laughing. "Hey, I thought for once that guy was the genuine article, someone that was on the up and up," the first complained. "With all that 'All-American' talk, I was hoping that maybe, with all the gun laws he said he was going to enact, we might just as well have a lighter workload around here." "Yeah, while he made a killing selling his own guns," the second laughed. "Well, enough of that," he added as he opened the door, "let's get to our..." But then, both coroners stared in shock at what they had seen... the cover over Radinov's body had been taken up and the body was gone! Almost as quickly, both coroners had alerted security on what had happened. Soon, scores of police and other personnel had swarmed through the building, checking the alleyways nearby and next door on both sides. What nobody had noticed, however, was the presence of a small-sized refrigerated van parked across the street from the medical examiners. The driver, a tall blonde man with piercing blue eyes, sat motionless as more police entered the building, instead looking straight ahead. Quickly, a light tapping on his right shoulder caught his attention. Turning around, he saw sitting next to him was a small boy that was dressed what appeared to be a delivery uniform. Even though the 'page boy' blonde hairdo he had was odd enough - the strangest feature he had were the set of cat's ears he had. "Vell, Captain," the boy responded in a heavily-accented German voice, "the Dok's got his package; I say ve leave before ve are discovered." The driver silently nodded, starting the engine and driving off, taking care to remain within the speed limit. The catboy then quickly stuffed his ears under a delivery cap, made sure he was buckled-in, then tapped on an intercom and said, "Ja Dok... you aren't too cold in there, are you?" "Nein, Schr”dinger, nein," the voice replied, "I am perfect. In fact... I am ecstatic! I cannot vait until ve get our new toy back home so that I can play with her!" "Ja, Dok," Schr”dinger piped up, the Captain maintaining his driving, "I'm certain the Major cannot vait for her, too." He then switched off and turned his red eyes to the traffic ahead. Inside the refrigerated portion of the van, Radinov's body was leaning upright, her back against the wall. Squatting next to her was what looked like the archetypical 'mad scientist' - blonde hair spread in an unkempt manner, the only insulation he wore to protect himself from the cold was a blood-splattered lab coat. He also wore glasses that seemed to have multiple lenses, and he used them to make a cursory examination of the dead assassin. He then cupped his gloved hand under her chin - the little finger seemed to have an extra digit, if the appearance looked right - and giggled, "Okay, so you may be a filthy Bolshevik, Frauline Radinov - but in time, I'm certain that you can be quite the valuable addition to the Major's little family of Millennium, Ja?" XXX TWO YEARS LATER... The last thing I remembered is pain. It is an unusual sensation, mostly because I usually was the one administering it, not receiving it. Pain was a gift I presented to those I felt that deserved of it. In my family, service to the state was not only an obligation... it was a family tradition. My grandfather served Stalin during the Great Patriotic War, where he participated in the rescue of Stalingrad from the Nazis. He stood proudly alongside his comrades as the defeated Germans, after their surrender, were marched off to the gulags in the east, where they - at least those who survived their march - were put to work in the great victory that followed. Deciding to follow the family tradition, I enrolled for service as soon as I was old enough. I chose the intelligence service, rapidly progressing through my service. I also applied for special services, and there I learned how to DEAL pain to the enemies of the state... and I was very good at it. Some of my fellows thought I was a sadist, calling me 'Bloody Pierce' behind my back. Hmmph... I showed them, I adopted that name as my official calling card. My name was well-known, from Angola to Afghanistan, and I was feared, not only by my enemies... but also my comrades as well. However, in time, even history would go against me. I did not adapt well to the changes my beloved Russia had undergone after 1991 and I decided to leave the service I loved. But I decided to use the methods of the capitalist west against them, and became an assassin. Instead of hard cash, I had taken heroin as my currency; the drug was a treasured commodity in my home. Like I said before, I was good at my job, and I considered it an honor when that damned Interpol placed one of their 'red notices' upon my head. I laughed when I heard about it, knowing fully that I would be the ultimate match any law-enforcement agency could bring before me. That is, until I met... her... Rally Vincent! My latest commission had brought me to Chicago, where a gun-runner who was seeking public office there hoped to get rid of a little... problem he had, as well as getting rid of his partner and an ungrateful associate. The first two were no problem... but she was more trouble than I counted on! Granted, I was surprised to find another woman who was a match for me, but I discounted it as inconsequential. But then, she hurt me, and from then on the payment didn't matter! I wanted to get even with her, and chose the time and place for our last duel! My current employer was having a political gathering and had invited Rally and her friend May under the pretenses of rewarding them for 'foiling' the operation he was running. As I walked over to the stage in a driving rain, the only thing on my mind was placing a bullet into her brain. But it seemed that bitch was running lucky, for that plan was thwarted and I was forced to use a back-up plan. I couldn't help but to think that I had forced her and her partner into my trap. I could feel myself smiling as I drove the knife that stuck in her shoulder further in. I took satisfaction in hearing her scream in pain. However, I made a mistake - I wanted to prolong her agony, and didn't take into account of her partner's resourcefulness, not only in helping her escape... but also facilitating in my final defeat. My disgrace complete, I decided that, if I was to go to prison, I was going to have the satisfaction of seeing her dead first! Breaking my restraints, I grabbed the handiest weapon available - a fire axe - and charged after her. I knew she was still hurt, so I didn't care about my own safety. My only thought was of her as I raised the axe, ready to cleave that head of hers in half - until I heard the first shot, deflecting the axe. And then came the last thing had I remembered - the pain. XXX A bright light was the first thing that Natasha Radinov saw as she fought to open her eyes. Squinting, she tried to focus, hoping to get some bearing on where she was. She did know that the room she was it - wherever it was - was cold, if her involuntary shivering was any indication. "Ah, you're avake, good, good," a German-sounding voice called out, causing Radinov to wince; her ears were still adjusting. "Velcome back to the living, Frauline Radinov... and I do mean it literally." "Wha... wha... what?" she mumbled incoherently. "Oh don't rush it too soon," the voice continued gleefully. Slowly, Radinov's eyes began to focus... and she didn't like what she saw, namely a demented-looking man wearing glasses with multiple lenses, as well as a bloody lab coat. "Where... am I?" she further groaned. "Oh that? Vell, that von't be until later. But for right now, you should be thankful for me. If I hadn't intervened, you might have been rotting in some unmarked grave somevhere in Chicago." Now Radinov bolted upright - and regretted it immedietly, her muscles sore and stiff. "Just... just what are you talking about?" she managed to snarl, rubbing her sore back. "Don't vorry, frauline," this mad scientist continued, "all your questions vill be answered in due time." He then pointed to a shower stall and added, "But right now, I suggest you get yourself cleaned-up. A nice hot shower could make those stiff muscles of yours a bit looser, ja?" "Y-yes, I might just do that," Radinov nodded, easing her off of what looked like an examination table. But when her eyes finally corrected themselves, she was shocked to see that the room she was in was, at the very least... quite messy. There seemed to be surgical instruments strewn all over the floor and bloody bandages seemed to be there too. She was hard-pressed to wonder if this was a third-world clinic - or a torture chamber! "What in the world...?" she gasped. The mad scientist turned and said, "Oh that... pay no mind to the mess, now here you go." He had placed a neatly-folded pile of clothing near a set of boots on the table. "We had to go through great trouble finding your clothing in Chicago. We even went the extra mile in repairing your bulletproof coat, not an easy job I might add." He then shooed Radinov into the bathroom, "Now get inside and get cleaned up, the Major wishes to see you as soon as possible, Ja?" Deciding not to argue, Radinov entered the bathroom, where she turned on the shower, then stripped off her hospital gown and stepped inside. As she let the warm water cascade down her body, she took the opportunity to examine the spot between her breasts, where she knew she was shot. 'There is no evidence of anything,' she thought to herself, 'not even a scar. Whoever this... doctor is, his work is rather amazing.' Making up her mind not to linger further, she stepped out, toweled herself dry, and gotten dressed. Se was rather amazed that her usual choice of clothing was there, right down to her bulletproof coat, which had became her trademark, more-or-less. She had even found her treasured red ear stud, thought lost after that pursuit by Rally Vincent. Walking down the corridor, Radinov was rather amazed that the lighting seemed a bit darker than what she was used to... and even stranger that, despite the darkness, she could see almost as well as in daylight. The Russian didn't happen to meet anyone as she walked, and to those who saw her at a distance, and to those who saw her at a distance, she could almost imagine the looks of disgust directed at her. There was one woman she saw, a skinny, raven-haired one that wore a pinstriped man's outfit whose gaze seemed poisonous, but Radinov decided not to press the issue. However, as she made her way down, she couldn't help but to feel someone behind her. Turning around, Radinov's eyes went wide as she saw what appeared to be a blonde boy with cat ears - and wearing the uniform of the Hitler Youth! "Gutten tag, frauline," the boy said. "Nice day we're having." Spinning around and striking the boy, Radinov felt the satisfaction of hearing the boy's skull bloodily crunch against the wall. "Now-now, frauline," the voice of the scientist said, standing in front of the Russian, "I know that Schr”dinger can be somewhat annoying, but there's no reason to go to such actions." Now eyeing the scientist hatefully, Radinov closed the distance between the two. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Why is some... kid dressed in a Nazi costume? Are you... AAAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!" Radinov was then on her knees as she felt the most intense pain in her head that she ever felt. "Temper, temper," the scientist admonished, waving a finger at the assassin before producing a small device the size of a pack of cigarettes. Pressing a button, Radinov was relieved to find the pain gone. "The Major realized that you might be a bit uncooperative when you avoke, so he had me place a little device vithin your head. I really don't have to repeat the lesson again," he added, looking as if he wanted to act in contradiction to his words, "so I must ask of you to behave in the future." Radinov simply snarled at the scientist. "Very well, Nazi pig, I'll cooperate... for now." Refusing the offer of the scientist to help her up, she followed him to the end of the corridor, where he ushered her inside a door there, then followed himself. The individual sitting at the table didn't seem all that harmless, but Radinov couldn't help to see that the scientist seemed a little nervous around him. He was pudgy, with blonde hair that was elegantly matched with the glasses he wore. He was also dressed in a white suit, and wore white gloves. Standing next to him was a tall blonde-haired man wearing a WWII-era white greatcoat, with an olive drab cover on his head. Radinov took an appraising look at this man - and just from the way he glowered at her, she could tell he was a man that she shouldn't even TRY to confront! "Please, Frauline Radinov," the man said, "sit down and be comfortable. I'm certain that you have many questions you vant to ask me, Ja?" "Da," Radinov agreed, reluctantly taking a seat in front of the man. "You must be this... Major the scientist spoke of." "Ja, it is me," the Major said. Turning to the tall man, he added, "Captain, I vonder if you can provide Frauline Radinov vith some - refreshment?" The Captain nodded silently, then left the room. "I must admit," he continued, "you seemed even more... capable than we thought the vay you dealt with Schr”dinger." "Oh I am more capable that you realize, Nazi," Radinov dangerously, but then banished all thoughts of strangling the pudgy man when the Major produced a similar device that had floored her earlier. "There is no need to that," she said, not wishing another experience in pain. "But you must admit, the Doctor is rather brilliant in his accomplishments," the Major said, nodding to the scientist. "Now, all politics aside, you might be vondering how in the vorld that you vere resurrected, even past the point of brain death, Ja?" "The thought... has crossed my mind," the assassin said, curious. "Ah, good. Vell, the Dok here has recently developed a special microchip vhich has made it all possible," the Major started, "and you, frauline, are the first lucky recipient of such a device." Radinov nodded, taking in everything. "And this... chip, you have had success with this, yes?" "To a point," the Major answered. "That chip in your head not only has the ability to bring back persons that have died... but also enhances them, giving them greater strength that before they died, and a first for this chip - the ability to heal instantly any vound afflicted, something the previous chip could not do!" He then looked over Radinov's shoulder, "Ah, I see the Captain has come back with your drink." Silently, the Captain set down a long-stemmed glass in front of Radinov, filled with what appeared to be a crimson liquid. Looking somewhat doubtful at the glass, the assassin took a tentative sniff at it - and recoiled in horror! "This... this liquid," she stammered, her eyes wide, "it's... it's..." "Ja, it's blood," the Major answered, nodding. "Oh, maybe I should've told you this earlier, frauline. You see, in order for the chip to perform its miracles, there has to be... a change in your biology, however slight." "What have you done to me?" the Russian growled, noticing the Captain was taking a defensive posture near the Major, but not caring. "You see, frauline, you are now... hmm... I don't think there is a delicate vay of saying this... a vampire." The Major could see the fury in Radinov's eyes. "Now before you lose your temper, please hear me out. You have many advantages in your current form than a classic vampire. Although you cannot change forms like one, you are not bound by any of their weaknesses. You can exist in the daylight, vill not be harmed by any holy charms, and can eat regular foods if you like! You just have to consume blood from time-to-time. And think about this - your victims can be your slaves, undead soldiers to command as you please." It was several tense minutes for the individuals inside the room. For a while, it looked as if Radinov didn't care about the tall Captain; she wanted to strangle the Major for changing her the way he did. The Major, however, seemed rather calm, considering the danger he was in right now. But then a strange thing happened... she calmed down, finally relaxing in her chair. She took a deep breath, and then said, "Well... if you put it that way, I guess being a vampire isn't so bad after all." She did eye the Major steely and added, "However, you wouldn't have done this in the first place if you didn't need my help for something." "Ja, that is quite correct." The Major then took another device, more of a television remote control, pointed it to a plasma screen and continued with, "I vould like you recover this." The object on the screen was a microchip. "And that would be?" the assassin implored. "The companion of the chip you have right now," the Major answered. "In order to construct more of these chips, it vas necessary to ship the only other copy to a foreign facility in India." He then eyed the Doctor steely and added, "But before it could arrive, it was intercepted by those who vish to maintain this annoying peace and study it to come up vith a countermeasure." "It... it vas a disgraceful mistake on my part," the Doctor pleaded, sounding contrite. "It vill not happen again." Radinov nodded. "And you want those who had stolen this chip dealt with, is that correct?" she asked. The Major nodded. "Well, despite the fact that we do not like each other, I believe we can come to some... accommodation." She had then taken the blood in the glass, and drank it until it is empty. "Excellent," she purred. "I believe I can get used to this." "I know you vould be pleased, frauline," agreed the Major. "But Major, there is one thing I would like to ask of you," added Radinov. "And that is?" he asked. "After this mission is over, I would like to travel to Chicago, Illinois... and deal with the person that killed me in the first place... Rally Vincent!" "Oh yes, Rally Vincent," the Major nodded. "About her... she has undergone a few... changes herself since your last meeting." Radinov looked to him curiously. "It seems, according to our intelligence reports that she had undergone some changes as well. She is a vampire herself - in fact, she is part of one of the oldest vampire lines in the world." "Interesting," Radinov said, smiling. "It might be fun seeing how I can stack up to her." "Vell, I'm certain you'll have all the time in the vorld contemplating how you vill dispose of Frauline Vincent... after your little task, that is." "And after that, we are through - no further obligations whatsoever?" asked Radinov. "None at all. You'll be free to resume your career as an assassin - which can be an advantage, since the vorld thinks that you are dead," the Major added. "Vell now, it's about time ve've gotten you ready for your assignment. Oh Schr”dinger?" "You called, Major?" the catboy said from behind Radinov, startling the assassin greatly. For her credit, the Russian did quite a few double-takes before turning to the Major and asking, "But how... I thought I killed him!" "I vould explain but it vould be a bit... complicated." The Major then motioned to the Captain and added, "Please, you and Schr”dinger accompany Frauline Radinov to the armory and help her get outfitted for her assignment." The Captain nodded silently, then motioned both the assassin and the catboy to follow him. As they left the study, Radinov glanced over to the Captain, who was looking ahead down the corridor, then bent over to Schr”dinger and whispered, "He doesn't talk much, doesn't he?" The catboy simply shrugged, then chirped, "Vhy should he? After all, he lets his actions do the talking, Ja?" The Russian didn't answer, only nodding in agreement. From what little she saw of him, she seemed to feel that this mysterious man had more than he was letting on. At the three went down the corridor, though, the woman that Radinov saw earlier just glared at the Russian hatefully, fingering a long-barreled flintlock musket in her hands. "Thinking about taking matters in your own hands, Rip?" another woman's voice asked. The dark-haired woman - Rip Van Winkle - spun around to face the source of the voice, a short-haired, muscular woman. "I don't believe it, Zorin," she hissed in a low voice. "Vhy in the vorld vould the Major trust such an important mission on... on the hands of that Slavic bitch!?" The other woman - Zorin Blitz - just shrugged and added, "Who knows vhat is on the mind of the Major, Ja? If anything, it vould mean saving us from going on such a minor milk-run like this." "And besides," the Major added, startling both women, "it is the perfect opportunity to test the improvements of our FREAK chip." Turning to the Doctor, he added, "I vonder vhat she vould think if she learned she vas actually a guinea pig, testing what is an unproven device?" "But vhat I'm more vorried about is," the Doctor added, wringing his hands, "is vhat vould happen if the test doesn't vork - and ve lose the other chip in the process? It could set back our plans considerably!" "If it doesn't vork, it doesn't vork," the Major answered, still smiling. "Ve still have our other chips to continues our plans, so I vouldn't vorry. And Dok," he added, "are you still vorking on perfecting the oral Kerasine?" "It... it's been difficult, so far," the Doctor stammered. "The formula the late Goldie Muso given us is proving to be more complex to adapt than I figured. I estimate... possibly another six months before we could perform the first tests." "Vell... no rush then," the Major said. "All that matters now is that Frauline Radinov intercept the chip before it can be flown when it arrives in Jakarta." SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH CHINA SEA, AT THE SAME TIME... "...And in conclusion," a bald, muscular African American said to the crew of the trawler, who were on their knees and hands on their heads, "I would like to thank you all for all cooperation on this little venture and it is my hope that we can leave this with good feelings towards each other." The trawler in question was stopped in the middle of the ocean, with a WWII-era P.T. boat - the name 'Black Lagoon' painted on it - floating next to it. Some of the crew that were not otherwise confined were busy off-loading cargo from the trawler to the boat. "Bloody damned pirates," the captain of the trawler snarled under his breath. The response he got was the barrel of a .45 magnum pointed under his jaw. "Now that wasn't very nice," the bald man replied pleasantly, but with an edge on his voice. "After all, we're only businessmen conducting a transaction here - we pick up the ammunition you guys were smuggling anyway, and you get to leave with your boat intact! I say that's a fair bargain." He then turned to his headset and asked, "Hey Benny-boy, just asking are we still clear?" Onboard the Black Lagoon, a man in his late 20's, with long blonde hair tied behind him and dressed in a Hawaiian-print shirt, looked over the maze of computer monitors on his desk and answered, "So far, so good Dutch. We were able to jam their comm-systems before they could get off an S.O.S., so I think we can take off without much incident." "That's what I like to hear," Dutch replied, then said, "Yo Rock, is everything accounted for?" Topside, another individual was supervising the unloading the offloading of the illicit firearms the trawler was carrying, as well as supervising the departure of the trawler's crew. Despite the rough appearances of the rest of the crew, this person didn't seem to fit in; he was Japanese, wore a clean short-sleeved white shirt, pressed black slacks with matching tie. This person looked more like a salaryman than a pirate. "Everything's accounted for, Dutch," Rokuro Okajima - Rock to everyone else - replied, looking over the manifest. "As soon as we make Roanapur, we can contact Balalaika and have the arms offloaded by her men shortly after. I tell you, they had quite the assortment of guns here. Hate to think of what they planned to do with them." "Well that's not our problem, Rock," Dutch replied, making sure none of the crew tried anything funny. "Well then, now that we're done, I say it's time we said our goodbyes and go our separate ways." Returning to the headset, he barked out, "Okay Revy, it's time we got of this tub before anyone shows up." No answer. "Revy... do you hear me?" he repeated louder. Still no reply. Sagging his shoulders, Dutch let out a heavy sigh and grumbled, "Sonofabitch, now what is she up to THIS TIME?" Going back to his headset, he said, "Benny, keep an eye on that radar. It looks like I'm going to have to rope in that Revy again." Turning to the crew, he added, "I'll be right back. Just don't do anything funny." He then took off for the other side of the ship. "You got it, Dutch," Benny replied over the headset, "just don't take too long. I'm picking up a lot of chatter over the Thai Navy bands. Hate to think of it if we get unwanted company within the next ten minutes or so." "I'll keep that in mind," Dutch grumbled, turning to his right. After seeing Dutch depart, one of the crew whispered to the captain, "Now's our chance! All we have to do is wait for their return and..." "And what?" the captain countered. "Don't forget, that boat besides us has a full load of torpedoes on it, not to mention our radio might still be jammed... not to mention that girl they got." "What's so special about her?" the crewman asked. "Didn't you recognize her? That was "Two-Hand" Revy!" hissed the captain. The crewman's face went white. "Oh," he groaned. XXX The man ended up getting slammed against the bulkhead, the side of his jaw reddened by the pistol-whipping he got. "Now-now, that wasn't very nice, motherfucker," a female voice said. He looked up at the source of the voice; a young woman with Chinese features, slim in build, wearing a muscle shirt and cutoffs that showed off her nice figure. In her left hand, she held a chrome-plated Berretta, which was aimed at him. Her right hand, whose upper arm and shoulder sported black tribal tattoos, held an armored briefcase. "Just because I happen to be a beautiful lady doesn't mean you have to get fresh with me, now does it?" she said, grinning maniacally. "Please miss, you don't understand," the man said in an English voice, "I have to get that briefcase to London immediately. If you'll just give it back..." he pleaded, trying to move forward, only to stop when he heard her cock the hammer. "Sorry, limpdick," the girl said, still grinning as she ground the cigarette in her teeth, "but if this little case is about as important as you say, then I believe we're talking major bucks to whoever wants it back." She then looked over the man, wondering, if at all possible, would be the most painful place she could hit him if he tried something. "REVY!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THIS TIME!?" Dutch's voice called out, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON ANYONE WHO MIGHT TRY TO SNEAK UP ON US!!" "HEY, I'M DOING IT, ALRIGHT!?" Revy snapped back, then she saw the Brit try to snatch the case away from her. Thinking quickly, she placed a shot two inches in front of his toes. "HEY C'MON, REVY," Dutch snapped, emerging from the other side, "WE DON'T NEED ANY GODDAMNED FATATLITIES HERE, ALRIGHT? NOW LET'S GET BACK TO THE FUCKING BOAT, WE MIGHT BE EXPECTING COMPANY SOON!!" "OKAY DUTCH, I'VE GOT IT!! JUST STOP BITCHING ABOUT IT, OKAY? YOU'RE BEGINNING TO SOUND TOO MUCH LIKE ROCK!!" Returning her attention to her prisoner, she cast the coldest look she could muster and snarled in a low voice, "Consider that your last warning, dipshit. The next time you pull that shit again, the next bullet goes into your motherfucking forehead. Understand?" The man nodded. It only took a matter of two minutes before Dutch and Revy had boarded the Black Lagoon, afterwhich it speeded away from the trawler. Almost as soon as it was out of sight, however, the crew began to scramble back to their stations. The captain had gotten back to his post on the bridge, sounding more embarrassed than angry. "Well that was something," he grumbled. "Bad enough I get pulled over by some two-bit pirates, I end up losing my cargo as a result. Sister Yolanda is going to have my balls in a vise because of this; those guns were part of her shipment." "Nevermind that," the English man said, appearing on the bridge, "is there any way you can get your shortwave running? I've got to get a message back to London." "Look, can't this wait until we get to Jakarta?" the captain snarled. "If we use the shortwave, then the Indonesian government will have our fucking hides on a wall for smuggling... you too!" The English man sighed in resignation, then slunk away from the bridge. "Might as well wait until I get to the embassy before contacting London," he mumbled. "I dread to find out what Sir Hellsing's reaction will be when she finds out that the newest FREAK chip we found has been stolen."
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