Black Lagoon: The Island of Lost Souls

5 - Frantic Beginnings

"Kapitan... the prisoner has woken up. We haven't been able to get any information out of him."

Within the halls of the Hotel Moscow building itself, Balalaika stood tall, listening to one of her soldiers as a fresh cigar hung from her lips. She nodded slowly, her eyes closed with slight frustration as she let a drag of crisp smoke into the air.

"I see.. let me talk to him myself. Maybe after some well displaced persuasion, we might be able to fetch some well needed details from this prisoner."

The soldier in front of her would nod, leading her to where the said prisoner was being held. She'd arrive, entering the room and allowing a couple of guards to file in behind her. They'd stand near the door as it was closed, and Balalaika would turn her attention towards her newly captured individual.

"Phillip Thomas... born in the United States, raised in Missouri.. served 10 years in the US Marine Corps, but was discharged after killing three of his squad mates in cold blood.. resurfaced as a mercenary, taking out hits in Africa, Mexico, and now, the waters of Southeastern Asia. Takes on the nickname Rango..." Said Balalaika, her voice deep and silky as she read through the file folder that was given to her.

"Does that all seem correct, my dear Rango?"

Rango would sit ahead of her, his hands and legs tied to a metal chair. He was only in his t-shirt and pants, his gear and shoes taken away. He was badly beaten, with bruises and welts on his face, blood staining the concrete floor. He grunted in pain, seemingly in response to Balalaika's statement. She let out a small 'hmph' as she set the file down.

"I've been told by my comrades that you and 4 other men tried to attack the Lagoon Company the other night.. a very unwise decision." Balalaika said, walking to one side of the room as she spoke, her heels clicking rhythmically as the light shined upon her sheer hosiery. "Now all I ask of you is a reason why. You have to understand, Mr. Rango, that you have to do more research before you act out with such violence."

"Fuck you... you Russian bitch.." Rango finally uttered, his teeth gritted as he glared at her angrily. "I'm not gonna spit an ounce of information out to you, you Slavic whore!"

Balalaika would quickly turn upon her heel, delivering a backhand to his face that created a loud crackling sound upon impact. Rango let out a cry of pain, the chair almost tipping over as a few more droplets of blood hit the floor.

"Rango... I haven't been able to get adequate rest for the last few days, as I'm constantly handling business deals, and of course, taking care of incompetent fools like you. And because of this, my patience grows thinner and thinner by the minute. So, could you give me a proper answer, you American scum?"

Rango would wince with pain, spitting a tooth out as a thin line of blood trickled from his mouth.

"We... we were sent here to take out a target.. a dock worker.. some Brit bastard who killed some of my guys and fucked up our job.."

"Oh, really?" Balalaika asked, her tone of voice changing a bit as she took hold of her cigar, blowing some more smoke."Now we're getting somewhere. Who hired you for this large scale job, Rango?" Balalaika would ask next, staring down at the other man with her blue eyes locked dead with his.

"I-I can't tell you... I'll be killed if I do!" Rango sputtered, beginning to shake with fear as Balalaika's presence intimidated him. The Russian would slowly close her eyes, letting out a rather shrill, deeply frustrated sigh as she took a long drag of her cigar. But finally, she'd speak.

"That answer..."

"Is not GOOD ENOUGH!" Balalaika shouted, using all of the force in her left leg to kick Rango, the rear tip of her heel striking him in the chest. He let out a pained gasp, the chair falling straight onto the ground.