A Pirate's Life for Mei

Justice

Armand

She came out of the jungle like something out of a storybook, an avenging angel with no sign of mercy on her face. In her bright blue-and-gold jacket, shining sword in hand and her long black hair streaming in the wind, she instantly reminded him of the great heroes from one of his favourite books: Les Trois Mousquetaires.

Her face was set, tense, and even angry. She only had eyes for the huge brute of a man sitting by the fire, glaring daggers at his back as she stormed towards him.

The brute, who had introduced himself to Armand and the other three prisoners as Putin, was a hard-core member of the Russian mafia. Covered in tattoos and sporting a very dominant attitude, he was a fearful figure. This was a man born and bred in the underworld, someone who gloried in violence. He felt like a coiled cobra, his eyes always following you, always ready to strike, even without provocation.

They had treated him politely but distantly, without any of the warmth that it had seemed so natural to bestow on Mei when she'd arrived. He felt somewhat guilty about how that warmth had died, especially after he'd seen the terror on her face when she'd run from this man.

Given the way she'd screamed then, he never would have guessed that she'd return the way she was now.

Lance also noticed her return from where he stood next to the lean-to he shared with Armand. He looked up and his eyes widened in surprise. "Mei?" he gasped.

Cheeto saw her and swore. "She's navy!" He cursed and looked around for a weapon.

Juan leaped to his feet and went for one of the clubs they had lying around.

At her name, Putin's head rose from the fish he was digging into, a fish he'd demanded someone else catch for him. A contemptuous grin came over his lips and he put the fish down. Standing, he turned and spoke mockingly before he'd even caught sight of her. "So. You come ba—?"

Mei's long legs carried her swiftly across the clearing they'd made a camp out of. Her brown eyes flashed at the sight of him, perhaps a moment of fear striking her heart, yet she mastered it without flinching and approached the gangster without slowing.

Putin caught sight of her expression and her weapons, and his eyes narrowed.

One hand held a gold-and-silver sword at her side. As she got within a few paces, the other hand rose, wielding a beautiful flintlock pistol. She pulled the trigger and smoke bloomed. A bullet shot out and hit Putin in the stomach.

He grunted and staggered backwards in shock. Wide eyes dropped down to the wound and he slapped a hand over it as blood leaked forth.

Mei didn't slow. She jabbed at his legs, drawing his arms down in defence. Yet it was only a feint. She back-slashed him across the face, then sliced him back the other way.

Putin cried out in agony, hands clutching his face and tried to back away. He tripped over the fire pit and went sprawling next to it. Blood flowed from the facial wounds.

"Holy!" Lance exclaimed, staring in astonishment.

Mei's hard gaze slid over to Juan and Cheeto and both quickly backed away, hands in the air. She stuck the spent gun in the waist of her pants and drew another out from the small of her back. Standing over Putin, her chest rose up and down quickly, betraying her heightened emotions. "This is justice." Placing the barrel of the second gun on one of Putin's knees, she pulled the trigger.

The knee exploded, and fresh screams erupted.

She stared at him, breathing deeply but mostly composed. For several seconds, she was lost in herself. Then she seemed to come back to reality with a jolt. She blinked and backed up a step. Sword in one hand and pistol in the other, she warily took in him and the others. "He had it coming," she told them all.