Roberta's Blood Trail
11 October 1994
Roanapur, Thailand
10:20 A.M.
Harry was drifting along the shops once more, this time haggling for materials. Local woods, various colors of rough jade, herbs, peppers, and spices of all sorts. Ingredients in bulk for various recipes he'd picked up over the months; Harry had no intention of settling for British cuisine when he returned. Harry was also wearing his now trenchcoat. A dark, almost toxic green, the fabric shimmered slightly in the Roanapur sun. Harry had ordered it before he left Britain, and he was happy to have it, especially after the Myanmar run. Slipshard's note confirmed that the basilisk skin coat was tested as bullet proof up to .50 Browning, and highly spell resistant. The inner lining was positively dripping in runic charms for lightening the weight, as well as providing some temperature control. Topped with his felt fedora, Harry felt stylishly well protected.
The city itself seemed in a state of nervousness, and while that had Harry's hackles raised, he was determined not to let it get his day down unless something actually occurred.
"Hello, Harry Potter," He answered into his ringing sat-phone.
"Harry!" Zara's panicked voice came over the line. "There's gunfire downstairs! Get here fast, please!"
"On my way," Harry responded, feeling his magic flex under his skin. Darting into an alley, he apparated to a rooftop opposite the Yellow Flag to get a good view.
And then his eyes went wide as he took in the entire scene. Bao's windows were shattered, no less than three bodies on the sidewalk, and a truck with a heavy machinegun was sliding up in front of the Yellow Flag bar.
Seeing that people on the street had already ran, Harry apparated into an alley, drawing his rifle. Stepping out, he saw that the gunner was already racking the slide on the massive .50 machine gun, aiming it at the bar. A split-second later, Harry's custom grenade sheared the truck in half, the detonation sending the two pieces spinning down the street as Harry grimly advanced, absently noting that he was going to have to actually name the violently explosive potion that Seamus and Neville had inspired, and Harry's new skills in Potions had somewhat stabilized.
As he approached, he heard a new voice screaming, "Your boss doesn't give a damn about you! Take the injured and go!"
Harry watched as members of the Manasilera Cartel ran out of the Yellow Flag, dragging and carrying the wounded as they did while screaming , "Regroup! Regroup!"
Stepping inside, Harry looked at the bloodshed. Apparently nothing lethal had happened, but there were a lot of injuries.
There, in the center of the room, stood a diminutive female dressed in some sort of formal maid's outfit. "My god..." she said, a grenade launcher in hand. "This place is absolutely wretched! Senor Rock!" she called out, turning towards the bar. "Are you still with us?"
"Over here," Rock's voice called out from behind the bar. "Somehow I'm still alive!"
"What the hell is going on?" Harry demanded of the room.
"It's not over yet!" screamed a South American man in a white jacket as he aimed a pistol at the maid from behind the bar. And then froze, as one of Revy's pistols was at the back of his head, and Harry's rifle was aimed at his chest.
"It is over, Gustavo," Revy stated. "That little girl fucked you in the ass, and you wanna embarrass yourself even more?" The man cringed a little as Revy continued. "You leave now, and you can rebuild. But if you don't Roanapur will know you're a little bitch, and that'll be the end of you. Walk away now, this doesn't concern you."
"Shit!" Gustavo exclaimed, holstering his pistol. "This isn't over, you little bitch! I'll remember this!" he kept going, rounding the bar.
Harry ignored the rest, darting up the stairs to Madame Flora's. Thankfully, none of the girls were injured, just a bit shaken up. Harry got a kiss from Zara for his immediate concern, and a rather thorough hug from the older, heavyset Madame.
Heading back downstairs, he saw Benny and Dutch walking in to survey the damage. "Revy, what's happening?"
"You remember me telling you about that maid a while back?" Harry nodded as Revy lit a cigarette. "Apparently, this is the fun-sized version. Martial arts, Mag-7 shotguns, and I really wanna know where she got a China Lake grenade launcher."
"Okay. So why is she here?"
"That is for the Young Master to inform the Lagoon Company of," the girl answered, chugging her beer. Harry noted that she looked about his own age. Short, petite, a somewhat high-pitched voice with only a trace of South American accent. 'Then again', Harry thought, 'I don't look fourteen, so who knows?'
"Fine," Dutch replied. "We'll drive. Harry, why are you here?"
"Zara called," Harry stated, "when the shooting started. I came running. Good thing too, because whoever it was had a .50 cal on the back of a truck out front."
"Got it," Dutch stated. "Looks like we're heading to see Lovelace, then. Harry, you in?"
Harry shrugged at the question. "I guess. Looks like my shopping plans are dead, so I may as well."
The fifteen minute drive was both uncomfortable and entertaining for Harry. On one hand, six people in Benny's car was cramped. On the other hand, Revy's heckling of Fabiola Iglesias was hysterical.
Finally, they pulled up to the Sung Kang Palace, the most expensive hotel in Roanapur. Getting out, he heard Dutch say, "I'm jealous. This is the classiest place in town. I have dreams about living in the suites here, eh Benny?"
"I think it's important to remember where we stand," Benny commented. "Harry, grab her stuff from the trunk?"
"On it," Harry replied, grabbing a suitcase from the back of the car as Revy helped Fabiola out of the back seat, an odd expression on her face.
A few minutes later, they were on the sixth floor. As they approached a door, Fabiola stated, "If I may remind you once again, in this room, Master Garcia, the twelfth head of the Lovelace Family, one of the thirteen families of South America awaits you."
Opening the door, most of them stared at Mr. Chang casually seated next to where a boy of seeming twelve or so stood. "Well, if it isn't the Lagoon Traders. You're late," Chang stated. "I happen to have business with the young master as well. I hope you'll pardon the intrusion."
"Get away from the young master!" Fabiola burst out, a pistol shotgun in hand as she darted at Chang.
With a smooth motion, Chang leaned back, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her forward over his lap in a hyper-extended position. "Calm down, little miss maid. I'm not here for a shootout," he said, as Fabiola ground her teeth in frustration. I didn't come here with threats or ridicule. I'm here to talk to the young master. Nothing more, nothing less."
"What he says is true, Fabiola," the boy stated. "For now."
Releasing Fabiola, she instantly rolled away into a defensive stance, shotgun still in hand. "Do not let down your guard, young master!" she shouted. "This town is as filthy as the Head Matron said! In just three days since I arrived here, I've already been involved in a gun fight! The people in this town are all scum!"
"Hah," Revy commented, leaning against the door frame with a smirk. "Way to talk about us."
"You're quite right, miss maid," Mr. Chang intoned, pushing up his sunglasses. "Yes, indeed. This town is a cesspit filled with scum. You should be suspicious of everything here," he continued darkly. "Certain truths do become visible when you suspect everything, but remaining observant until all the cards are dealt is another way to get at the truth."
"Fabiola," the boy called in a warning tone.
"Yes, young master," Fabiola sighed out as she holstered her weapon.
""Sorry to interrupt," Dutch commented from the door, "but we're getting lonely out here. Mind if we sit?"
"My apologies," the boy replied politely. "Please, come in."
All of them sat down, with Harry closing the door behind them. Revy immediately pulled out a pack, sticking a cigarette between her lips.
"Revy!" Chang barked out. "This isn't your room. Ask for his permission if you want to smoke."
"Aw, come on, man!" Revy objected out of startlement.
"Ask for his permission... Revy," Chang ordered, an edge to his voice.
"All right, all right. Young master, you mind if I light up?"
"There are no ashtrays up here, so please refrain," the boy answered politely, causing Revy to fume.
"So, why exactly are we here, gentlemen?" Harry quietly asked.
Chang's eyes narrowed slightly, and Harry knew that Chang was measuring the only unknown in the room: Harry.
"A bit of history, then," Chang began. "A few months ago, supporters for a political platform were bombed at a rally. Garcia Lovelace's father was among them," he continued, gesturing to the boy. "Since then, the Lovelace household Head Maid has disappeared. She is a former F.A.R.C. guerilla warfare expert, known in local legend as the Bloodhound of Florencia, Rosarita Cisneros. As the Lagoon Company can tell you, when she's on a mission, she is implacable, unstoppable, and absolutely not something anyone wants in their city.
"Some years ago, the senior Lovelace took her in as a favor to a friend when she'd had enough of protecting cocaine cartels. He disguised her as a maid named Roberta working in his household, and she's been there ever since. Until the bombing.
"Since then, she's led a wave of violent interrogations across South America that led her here, to Roanapur. Why she's here, what led her here, we're entirely not sure of."
"I can fill in some of the details. Thank you, Mr. Chang," Garcia stated, nodding to the older man. "Soon after the bombing, the police and military began investigating it as a terrorist attack. The para-military group Bravo Pueblo Alliance emerged as a suspect. They were detained soon after the attack. One of them was released for lack of evidence, the other two continue to deny involvement."
"A terrorist attack by a bunch of right-wingers unhappy with a left-wing party in power," Dutch commented. "Makes too much sense."
"And that's why it's suspicious," Mr. Chan confirmed. "Continue."
"Yes. We too... No, Roberta also had the same doubts. That it made too much sense. She also said they didn't have the skills to carry out such a bombing, as Roberta herself had swept the stage for explosives. On top of that, they had no reason to have such skills.
"But the police are acting as if the case has been solved. We haven't heard from them since the arrests. We almost gave up and accepted the official statement. Until a certain person paid a visit. This individual was an officer of a paratroop unit aligned with the MVR. The MVR also had their doubts, and began their own investigation."
"The MVR," Benny commented, "was originally a movement started by a general of the Venezuelan Paratroopers. He has a lot of fanatical sympathizers within that unit. It's probably best to look at it from that angle."
"You are exactly correct," Garcia agree. "He obviously has strong ties to the Venezuelan Department of Defense. He came to inform us what he discovered up to that point in his investigation. The re-examined the backgrounds of all of the staff involved with the rally. They ran a search on who suddenly disappeared a few days after the bombing, and on those with suspicious backgrounds.
"Bingo, huh?" Dutch asked.
"Yes. These six men also showed up on a certain document belonging to the DGIM, Venezuelan Intelligence. Their names were forged, but the photos were the same as the photos on the staff list. They intentionally participated in the rally. These six men left the intelligence bureau two months before the bombing, as if it were prearranged. And on the day of the bombing, they were in charge of security for the stage."
"Fuck, is that it?" Revy asked in a mocking tone. "You guys are scared of those small timers? Against Four-Eyes, they're not even a piece of cake, just twinkies. Just stay home plucking your nose hairs and she'll put 'em all away and come right back. You got nothing to worry about, kid."
Garcia sighed. "I wish it were as easy as you say. But the story doesn't end there, does it Fabiola?"
"Yes, young master," Fabiola quietly, politely replied, pulling out some photographs.
"Please take a look at this," Garcia continued. "It is a photo I received from the general in question. It was taken six months ago before the bombing at the Bolivar Grande in Caracas. Coincidentally, it was taken by a military police officer investigating a separate corruption case. The hispanic man on the far right is Major Jose Luciendez of the DGIM. The five men at the scene were his men. Of the other four men, we only know the name of one.
"So Roberta... The day after we received that report, she disappeared from the mansion. A body was found a the scene of a fire at a motel outside Caracas. It was Colonel Simon Dickens. He was an active officer of the United States Army.
"According to the paratroop officer who brought this to me, the main suspect was a woman who was seen fleeing the scene just before the fire was reported. She had a ticket to Thailand from Caracas, via Miami. They also discovered that she had reserved a long distance ticket to Roanapur from the airport."
"You're certain," Chang asked, "that he was an active officer?"
"Absolutely," Garcia stated. "He was one of the military attaches."
"I don't like where this is headed, kid," Revy piped up. "So, what do you need us for?"
"The young master is very concerned," began Fabiola, "about the Head Matron's disappearance- no, about her attempt at revenge. As we mentioned, our only wish is for the Head Matron to return to the mansion as soon as possible. This is a strange land for us. We cannot find what we need without assistance. The only people here we can ask for help from are you. No... No, only that Japanese gentleman, to be precise.
"Please," Fabiola continued in the face of Rock's shocked face, "lend us a hand in the search for our family's Head Matron. We understand that this request is different from your primary business. Therefore we are prepared to pay appropriate compensation. Please."
"I see," Dutch said in a calm tone. "Mr. Chang, I understand why you're so concerned. This is a great big Pandora's Box with enough trouble to fill up all the shelves at Sears. It's not about the money. We don't want any part of this," Dutch informed Fabiola, who looked shocked that he would refuse.
"But... why?!" she weakly exclaimed.
"Why?" Revy asked, a trace of hostility in her eye. "Because your Head Matron's planning on taking on everybody's friend Uncle Sam with her bare hands. It's absolutely crazy. Who'd want any part of that mess?"
"Exactly," Mr. Chang agree. "She's up against the United States' Unconventional Warfare Forces. Perhaps more than that."
"That is all the more reason to stop her," Garcia inserted, his head bowed. "Knowing that she's killing people, pains me as much as the loss of my father. She is family to me," he continued, as Harry spotted the first drops of tears falling on the boy's hands, "and the only person in this world who can save her is me. She-she also told me that she would be with me forever. She said we would always be together!"
"Aw, cut it out," Revy snarked out with a grin. "What's up with you? You came halfway around the world to start bawling? Fine, then cry me a river. Maybe a hero will pop up out of a Marvel comic. Go ahead, try it. It might be worth a shot."
Fabiola was about to shout at Revy when Garcia laid a hand on her shoulder. "No, Fabiola. It's alright. Miss Revy, I'm sorry. You are right. If you absolutely will not accept the task, we will not insist any further. We will continue our search for help on our own. I thank you for coming."
"You've changed quite a bit since the last time I saw you," Rock commented, a gentle expression on his face. "Almost like an adult."
Garcia gave out a small sigh, saying, "My father passed away and Roberta disappeared. I've had to grow up faster than I should have. That's all."
"Rock, is that all you have to say?" Dutch asked. Harry could almost see the wheels spinning in Dutch's head as he said, "I don't think letting these two kids run around in a town like this is a smart idea." Harry's eyebrows rose at the comment, especially given that he himself had been running around Roanapur for almost three months without any objection from Dutch. In fact, as he recalled it was Revy that had commented on it all those weeks ago.
"This whole thing is breaking my heart," Mr. Chang cut in, leaning back in his chair with a smile. He clearly saw the direction that Dutch was going. "If I had my way, I'd love to see them leave this matter to us, and return to their mansion in Venezuela."
"Yeah, right, Mr. Chang. I know you don't think that in the slightest."
"Was it that obvious, Dutch? Well," he continued, his expression darkening, "like Senor Garcia, the Colombians are after the maid. It's obvious they'll clash with this little boy sooner than later. That's not good for this town, or for us. That maid is something else. Everyone knows Fry-Face mobilized her commandos the last time she was here."
"Explains the nervousness across the city," Harry dropped in. "Every shop keeper I came across this morning was on edge."
"Exactly, Potter," Mr. Chang agreed. "So it's better to pluck the seeds of their worry early."
"This hasn't got anything to do with us," Dutch commented. "Running this town is your concern, Mr. Chang. Why don't you two partner up? It'll make things easier."
"C'mon now, Dutch. You should know better," Mr. Chang shot back. "We're too big to move around like that. But... you're thoroughly familiar with this town, with all kinds of access due to the nature of your business. Plus you're in a neutral enough position that it won't complicate matters further. And you," he said, moving his hand to point, "are harmless.
"Bringing you in to help is just what we needed, Isn't that right, Rock?
"Of course, I can't force you," Mr. Chang admitted. "It's all up to you. If you say you won't do it, we'll search for her in our own way. And of course, those two over there can go about it however they want as well. But, if a problem does occur, we can't have anything to do with it. We have a reputation to uphold. We can't agitate a cartel without a reason," he reminded the room.
Rock paused, before saying, "This town wants the maid out of here as soon as possible. Garcia wants her back as soon as possible. If we can catch up to her before she finds those soldiers," he continued, his voice growing more determined, "we'll have everything wrapped up nice and neat. Isn't that right, Mr. Chang?"
"There's still one loose end, Rock," Dutch interjected. "The soldiers are still on the shelf."
"Dutch is right," Revy commented from her seat on the floor next to where Harry was standing, leaning against the same wall. "You really think you can take Four-Eyes with a smile on your face? She's as cross-eyed as the road runner on speed. You come across her lookin' stupid, and she'll fill you full of holes before you can even open your mouth."
"Uhh, hold on a second, guys," Benny urged. "It's not like we have to decide right now, yeah? We can come back when we make our decision. Either way, arguing about it now only troubles Garcia."
The people in the room looked at each other, subtly glancing at a very disturbed looking Garcia.
"He's absolutely right," Mr. Chang said, standing up. "Take some time to think it over. And if you can't secure his assistance, you two need to get out of town quick. The Colombians will be here sooner than later. A sneak attack won't work anymore. You should listen to what the adults have to say," he ended in a serious tone.
Turning, he laid a hand on Rock's shoulder. "Rock. That boy'll have gray hair before he turns twenty. Think hard about it, will you? he asked softly.
Dropping the hand, he headed for the door, saying, "Let me know when you make up your mind. Good day, Young Master," he called out in a cheeky tone.
Once the door closed, Dutch turned to Harry. "Harry, I want you staying out of this no matter what, you hear me? No matter which way it's decided. You're too close to getting to Hong Kong, and I don't want you fucking that up by pitching in against the Terminator Maid."
"Understood, Dutch," Harry replied. "I'd kind of figured that anyways. The only reason I plan to get involved is if it's an emergency, life or death stuff."
"Best I can ask for, Harry. Will you need a ride?"
"Nah, I can get where I need to go. Garcia? Fabiola? It was a pleasure to meet you. Good day," Harry remarked on his way out the hotel room door.