[b][u]Python at Port-au-Prince, Part 2[/u] - An Ames Sond scene, by Amethystine[/b] ~ You should read Part 1 first: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/29387442/ ~ The young draconic woman nearly hit at least one worker as she sped through the dockyard. She curved the bronze electric-gas hybrid Ford rapidly into a free space near the waterfront, mere metres away from the beginning of King's Quay itself. She burst out of the car and only barely managed to remember to reach out and shut its door as she quick-stepped toward a gated section of the pier that abutted directly against the water of the Port-au-Prince bay. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and it beat down on her as she tromped forward through the gate, ignoring the guard, his dark cap, his flowery shirt and the Uzi he clutched. Evidently, the guard knew her, for he called out in Creole for the girl to be allowed through, past the other guards. They all could have easily blocked her way along the long, secure section of the run down area of the centuries-old port. As the dragon-girl strode along, fury in her eye and in her heart after what she thought had been an assassination attempt by the serpent, she did not think about how quickly the guards could also then prevent her from leaving. Perhaps she didn't care any longer. In reality, it was all or nothing. She would salvage her cover, or it was over, and her chance was gone. - At the same time, her male counterpart coasted through the docks on the dirt-bike, having mostly caught up to the girl. He was too late to stop her from going inside, though, he saw. The girl could be plainly seen walking with a determined gait, into the belly of the beast. He cursed under his breath and revved the bike past the gate, then slowed down to come to a gentle stop half-way along the dock, amongst a few pallets of cargo here and there, where the gate's guard could not see him, but he could view the secure stretch of waterfront to his rear and side. He tried not to appear as aware as he was of the several armed guards his partner was putting between herself and him. The farther the woman got from him, the more concerned he seemed to be, but he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the heavily guarded part of the pier. The draco-human remained astride the bike and scanned around the area for anyone he knew, or could pretend to know. Lady Luck was on his side in one small instance that day, after so many bad twists of fate thus far: He spotted a longshoreman he had both talked to and worked alongside before and struck up a conversation. Many words were exchanged, but he said very little of substance; he was stalling for time and blending in, appearing as though he belonged. He had evidently been around the area long enough to do so convincingly, talking about things that - typically - only a local labourer would know, and asking about more potential jobs to make a quick buck as a stevedore, loading or unloading ships. - A number of meters away, but far out of earshot from the other red-scaled hybrid, a German-accented voice piped up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa-whoa!" cautioned a tall, lanky donkey, putting his arms up and out to try to block the dragon-girl. The incensed individual slapped the equine's hand out of the way without slowing down. "Touch me and I'll break your wrist, Elvis." The slim donkey sputtered and tried to turn and follow, clumsily pulling off his sunglasses. If he couldn't stop her from going in, he would at least do his job of announcing the intrusion to his employer. His hooves tapped alongside the dragon-woman's claws as he just barely got ahead of her as she rounded the corner into a building that used to serve as customs-house. "Dom, nous avons un visiteur," he called to the flamingo who was hunched over a desk, analyzing the collected physical remnants of Haiti's vintage bureaucracy. The pink-feathered fellow replied, "Pas maintenant, je suis occupe." From the amount of stamped marks there were upon the roll of paper in front of him, one could imagine he had been at it for hours. Was there some great importance to the differing shapes of the aged rubber stamps, or was he merely appreciating the old fashioned wooden-knob-handled tools. Busy, indeed. The girl had not broken her stride, and her claws raked against the stone floor as she scratched herself to a halt directly next to the avian's chair. Her tail snapped back and forth a few times in agitation before it settled, as if it had been keen on continuing the swing it had been set to while its owner had moved so quickly. The donkey put his hands on his hips, not sure how the situation would play out. He wondered if he would be blamed, but knew it would be worse if he tried to slink away in that moment. Sitting up somewhat, the flamingo - in a white ruffled button-up of sheer cotton and thin, light beige slacks - cocked his head and clicked his long, curved beak softly. "Indrys." He shifted in his seat to turn slightly toward her, but his long, snake-like neck did most of the twisting to face her. "How nice to see you," he said as though the opposite was true. "Alive, you mean?" she accused, clenching her fists at her sides, trying to hold back from punching the pink, feathered filth. Her tail lashed around behind her, unable to keep her agitation hidden. Despite the obvious anger in the young woman, the bird was blasé: "I knew we shouldn't have slept together," he said, the corners of his mouth beyond his beak starting to twitch upward before he added with a chuckle, "I was actually starting to like you, so I was so sad to have to..." he made a vague gesture with a pink-scaled, black-clawed hand. "--Rearrange your schedule," he murmured, with a grim undertone below his francophone accent. "So you [i]did[/i] just try to have me killed," Indrys stated, with a touch of disbelief, even with the truth laid bare by the avian's nonchalant revelation. With a sigh, Dominic dipped his beak and raised his gaze to peer into her golden, furious stare. Unconvincingly, he lamented, "I was devastated to think I would never see you again." He got up slowly, his slim, long-legged and lengthy-necked form just barely matching the naturally larger dragon-woman's impressive height. "But, here you are--" he began, picking up the strip of paper he had been rubber-stamping, moving toward slinging it over Indrys' head, as if he might rope her in and embrace her with it. "Damn it, Dominic!" the woman yelled, snapping an arm through the paper with ease before it had even gotten above her neckline. "I was trying to help you." She didn't believe for one moment that the wading-bird had any true intimate intent. She knew he was truly incapable of loving anyone but himself to begin with, but after trying to kill her, such a thing was even more preposterous. Given her size and strength, she would have liked to believe the bird was afraid of her, and was attempting to woo her to avoid a very physical repercussion. They both knew she could have reached out and snapped that gangly neck of his, but they also both knew she would be dead shortly after him, cut down by the donkey's pistol or any one of the many submachine gun carrying guards outside. No, any romantic gesture from Dominic at a time like this was part of whatever twisted game he was playing within his own head - games where only he knew the rules. Shaking her head and softening her stance, lowering her head to peer pleadingly into the black eyes of the avian, Indrys explained: "I was trying to uncover a leak. And you," her voice quaked, "you sent someone to kill me?" By the last word, it sounded like she was on the verge of crying, aiming for maximum sympathy. "Please don't talk to me like I'm [i]stupid![/i]" Dom shouted the last word, surging taller with his legs and neck at their most outstretched, his feathers ruffling. Indrys did her best to look appropriately cowed, but internally, the brightly-coloured, over-grown chicken looked ridiculous when he attempted to be tough. She had to strongly remind herself how much power he wielded, the many men he commanded. "It's unattractive," Dom finished, smoothing out his plumage once more, relaxing his stance. After an uneasy silence wherein the two gazed at each other, uncertainty floating between them, the bird began again. "Come. I wanna show you something." Turning on one webbed foot, Dominic took a step toward the open entryway, where the sea breeze fluttered into the old edifice. He turned back to the immobile Indrys and extended a hand for her to take. "Come." The girl was reluctant to go back out, nearer to the collection of guards and their guns, unsure of whether or not she could ever convince the flamingo of her innocence. As it was, she knew he didn't trust her at all, despite having sown the seeds of doubt just by returning to him at all. As the pair walked out together followed by the donkey, Dominic said, "There's nothing that makes me more uncomfortable than friends talking behind my back. It feels like--" he paused, lifting the hand that wasn't grasping the woman's, looking as though he would scratch at his narrow chest and the base of his neck. "--ants under my feathers. It's been that way forever." They strode closer to the water, the straight, stone, man-made border between land and sea that existed as a 10 foot drop from the surface of the dock, to the tropical water below. "I remember when I was 15, I had a crush on one of my mother's piano students." With a hand on Indrys' back, the bird urged his 'girlfriend' up onto the massive, weather-worn blocks that were the lip-like edge of the quay, before stepping up himself. "Somehow, I overheard her saying very nasty things about me." Together, they looked down into the water - it came naturally, for one's natural inclination upon reaching the top of a precipice is to gaze down, to gauge the potential fall, and to guard against the possible plummet. There in the water of the bay, was a man, or more accurately, a very recently deceased human body, the image of which rippled calmly in the undulating surface of the seawater. "I got so angry," Dominic said, continuing the tale from his past. "--I took an iron..." the avian trailed off, as his scaly, webbed grip seemed to grasp around nothing. It was as if he could clearly remember the iron, the heat radiating off of it, and how he had used it on the object of his young frustration, for mere gossip. Though she glanced at Dom as he mimed hefting the iron, Indrys' gaze was drawn inexorably back to the dead eyes of the body in the water. Despite their dullness, they seemed to glare directly at the girl, accusing her of his death. "Is that your so-called 'leak'?" asked the avian. "I..." Indrys said, and swallowed. "We only spoke on the phone. Though I suppose the texts today, telling me he was a snake, were clearly your friend." A simple "Mmm," came from the black-tipped beak. Both of the figures up on the edge of the quay remained looking downward at the dead man. One of them was uneasy, the other uncaring. "It's such a shame, because he's one of my best geologists," Dominic said, as if speaking about an unlucky spot of weather rather than the death of a valued colleague. "He said you asked to buy information." "No." Indrys said, finally ripping her eyes from the macabre submerged tableau and turning to address Dom with as much authenticity she could summon up from within herself. "He called me and [i]offered[/i] to sell me information." The avian paused, beak partially parted, puzzling over the draco-human's statement. She took the chance to gamely and amicably throw an arm around his shoulders, smiling winningly as she asked: "Why would I come back here if I was lying?" With a chuckle and a roll of his slight frame that dislodged Indrys' arm, Dom replied, "Because you love me." It was almost a question. As if he wanted her to prove her love for him. "I was doing it for you," Indrys implored, slipping into the embrace that the bird pulled her into. "To stop him from betraying you," she explained, cradling the back of his head and neck in her hands, stroking it in the way that she knew he liked. She couldn't believe she might actually salvage her cover, until the flamingo's next words made her heart drop out of her chest. "You know what burns more than all your bullshit?" he asked, placing his hands on her sides to push her away from himself. His much lighter weight and slightness of build made it so he was more pushing himself away from her unmoved form, though. "I always got the feeling that you were only sleeping with me to get something you wanted." Tipping his beak out toward the vast bay, he whispered. "General Medrano, perhaps?" All at once, the avian's suspicions were confirmed, thanks to the way he saw the girl's eyes light up and dart out to scan the water for where the aforementioned man might be. The throaty hum of a motorboat was approaching, and Indrys peered at the handful of males that stood atop it. "Is that him?" she asked, all pretense gone, with Dominic's own dropped layers of deception. She no longer made any secret of her clear and present murderous desire for the general. "You know how these deposed dictators are, jealous of their safety," Dom reflected, thoughtfully. All the while, Indrys glared in the direction of the shining watercraft. Already, the male grew bored of the draconic woman, now that their little game was over. He had won, for his opponent would surely die soon, but the way she seemed unafraid to meet with her fate made the flamingo feel as though he had lost. But what else could he do? He wanted to be rid of the 'red menace,' and he knew she might still have one last use. "Stick around. I'll introduce you," offered the pink-feathered one. A faint smile brushed at the corners of his otherwise beak-structured mouth as the bird brushed over the girl's cheek with one hand, then turned and walked away. ~ Ames Sond slithered into King's Quay and soon spotted the bronze Ford. It was near to a gate guarded by an uzi-holding guard, so it was clear where she had gone. She seemed the type of girl to rush headlong into danger, after all. With his most friendly smile, the snake approached and held out his business card. Or rather, the card of one R. Sterling who worked at Universal Exports in London, one of the cover businesses MI6 had created for its operatives to act as though they were employed legitimately. He asked the guard to pass his card along to the draco-human girl, to get her to call him. As the guard pondered if he should actually do it, Sond glanced up at a security camera. The naga had never intended to stick around and chat, but the camera gave him all the more impetus to leave. He muttered a 'thanks' and slid away, before anyone had a proper chance to ask him anything, or even clearly remember him. Elvis plodded over to take the card while the serpent flowed away into the bustle of the docks. Hearing that the reptile had wanted to get in touch with Indrys, the equine grew suspicious, scrutinizing the card and calling the number upon it, doing his due diligence. A monotone, recorded female voice informed him the offices of Universal Exports were currently closed. With a sigh, he pointed the card at his lackey in French: "Don't waste time on crap like this." He tore up the card and clopped away. Meanwhile, Sond smirked down at his phone, seeing a real-time view of MI6's tracking software having hooked the donkey's mobile for constant monitoring and location updates. He saw the number was attached to a company called 'Greene Planet,' which was headed by a man named Dominic Greene. He idly wondered if whatever foul business this employee of the organization was up to would link all the way up to Mr Greene himself. Time would tell. One small victory, but Sond still had to see about properly talking to either of the draconic pair. He had not seen where the semi-red-scaled male had set himself up, down the length of the nearby dock. The python presumed the male could have gone through the gate not long after the girl, but he only saw the car, so had erred on that side of things when speaking to the guard. Ames set himself to the task of finding a means of entering the secure portion of the port. ~ Within the guarded area of the docks, Mr. Dominic Greene had received one General Luiz Medrano - and his small retinue - into his temporary base of operations. The flamingo and the spectacled bear had been chatting and were sharing a laugh as they walked along the edge of the port. The bear, whose spectacle-markings were beginning to grey, showing his age, wore aviator sunglasses, a lightweight white shirt, burgundy slacks, as well as chains, rings, and a watch, all in gleaming gold. All that he wore was custom-made for his immense ursine frame, and his accessories and the edges of his clothes were almost lost, swimming in his thick sea of brown fur. Returning to the matter they had been discussing, the general's deep baritone rumbled up and out of him: "And you can do all of this for me?" "Well, look at what we did to this country," the avian replied. "The Haitians elect a priest, who decides to raise the minimum wage from 38 cents to $1 a day--" "Whoa!" interjected the bear, sarcastically. Continuing, the flamingo nodded a little, "-it's not a lot, but it's enough to upset the corporations who were here making T-shirts and handbags." The bird began to come to a stop as the pair reached the end of the dock. "So, they called us, and we facilitated a change," he said, simply. His words were cryptic, but his tone implied just how easy it was for his organization to manipulate the course of an entire nation. He stood looking out over the water, while the large bear had turned to face the other way next to the slender pink-coloured figure. Unimpressed, the ursine exiled general leaned to one side and dipped his head to respond in a slightly hushed tone. "The difference is, my country's not some flyspeck in the middle of the Caribbean." At the word 'flyspeck,' Greene smirked and jerked his head a little further away from the bear, as if he knew his companion would say just that. Turning back to be side-by-side once more, he began to speak as soon as the last word was out of Luiz' mouth, even verbally stepping on the 'n' in 'Caribbean.' "But we've already begun destabilizing the government. We'll supply the private security. We'll pay off all the right officials, and we have 26 countries ready and waiting to officially recognize your new Bolivian government." He emphasized the last four words in his little speech and stepped back just a touch to twist his lithe self in front of the thick bear, looking up into the dark sunglasses. "You want your country back," he said with a slight smile at the corners of his beak, with every smug assurance that it was the most true thing about the other man. It was as if he could see the burning fire within the mammal that was his desire to return to the power he once held, the control he had originally seized in a well-planned - albeit bloody - coup d'etat. Still staring up at Medrano, Greene finished: "My organization can give it to you within--" he paused to shrug slightly and flick his tail-feathers, gauging the amount of time it would take for everything to come to fruition. The short break - only a half of a second - in the flow of his sentence was designed to give the general time to imagine that it might take months or longer to do what the bird proposed. He then finished with what he knew would impress: "--the week." Medrano was quiet for the briefest of moments; he was taken aback, but he didn't let it show, save for a twitch in his ears and a tightening of his eyes that was hidden behind his aviators. He started to walk back the way they had originally come. "You've been busy." Greene remained where the bear left him. "And in return, you want what?" Luiz asked. Looking out over the Port-au-Prince bay, Greene answered, loud enough for the larger man to hear as he plodded away: "A desert." Both men turned to look at each other, facing one another fully and properly once again. Medrano gave Greene an appraising look, pondering what the pink male was up to. Greene strolled over on his long legs, smiling faintly around his beak. Having heard mention of the all-important payment, Elvis sidled up to the two, handing his boss a map. Greene took it with a dismissive, "Merci." Unfolding it, he held it up in one hand, facing the water once more while the general looked on from a touch beside and behind the bird. The flamingo's other hand traced a circle around a clearly-marked square of Bolivian desert land. "This part." On King's Quay, the male dragonfolk watched the situation closely, attempting to glean all that he could, as well as keep an eye on his partner, Indrys, who stood out in the open, also watching the flamingo and bear as they observed the map. Neither of them were close enough to hear what was being said, unfortunately. "This land is worthless," Medrano spat, as if he was also applying the insult to Greene or the bird's intelligence. "Oh!" Greene chirped, feigning surprise. "So you're getting a great deal." "You won't find oil there," the bear advised with an air of superiority, thinking he had seen through Greene's scheme. "Everyone has tried." He suddenly found the bird and his organization to be far less enigmatic than he had once imagined. If all they wanted was oil, they were hardly as inscrutable as he had heard. "Maybe, maybe not," Greene said slyly, smiling and tipping his head back and forth a little on his long neck. "But we own [i]whatever[/i] we find," he said firmly, flapping the refolded map in front of Medrano's broad furry chest, holding it out between two fingers for the ursine to take, if he accepted the terms. With a large rolling shrug of his huge shoulders, the bear took the map, nodding his agreement. He didn't know what Greene wanted with that land, but he could see no reason not to give it to him, when the offer was as good as it was. He would be back in power of his beloved country: there appeared to be no downside at all. He knew it was too good to be true, and that Greene's people would likely build some sort of base there, but he could deal with that once he had control of the Bolivian military once more. The flamingo's eyes lit up and his beak parted a little as the small flexible parts of his mouth turned into a wide grin. He patted the general on the arm, as if commending him for making the right choice. He turned to face back toward whence the pair had come, and the statuesque figure of the draco-sapien woman caught his eye. She was glaring down in his direction, but her dagger-like stare was directed at the general, of course. Guiding the bear into walking alongside him once more, Greene asked, "Did you know Jago and Adria Fyrre?" "Hmph, of course," Medrano growled softly under his breath, "They were a thorn in my side during my ascension toward the rank of general. Lucky for me, they weren't around any longer when the time came." Greene nodded, strolling slowly alongside the plodding pace of the heavy, muscular mammal. He knew 'the time' the general referred to was that of the bear's coup, the power-grab that placed him in power for the better part of a decade. "Well, their daughter works for me--" "Their daughter?!" snapped Luiz. "I was told--!" "I'm sure that in such circumstances, certain fabrications become important to security. In any case, as I said, their daughter works for me. So many of our people are from broken homes, you see. I've had to terminate her employment, though. Just today." As the bird spoke, it became clear to the bear that the draconic woman in the orange top and brown skirt they were both approaching was surely the woman under discussion. The crimson scales and hair were unmistakable now that Medrano had taken note of them. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses to gaze upon her. Medrano had always had an eye on Adria Fyrre, coveting something he could not have. The ursine found that same want blossoming within himself once more as he looked up on the younger, more appetizing approximation of Adria that Indrys was. "She's lovely," Medrano murmured, as they were getting close enough to the girl that she might hear them. "I definitely see the resemblance." "Why don't you consider her as something to-" Dominic's soft words halted momentarily as he paused, pondering his choice of words, then finished: "--sweeten the deal?" With that, he waved Indrys over, then added to Luiz before the tall girl's long legs brought her within earshot. "Just promise me to drop her over the side when you're done." All thoughts of what Greene's secret plans for the desert land might have been, flew from Medrano's mind as the captivating dragon-girl sauntered up, peering at the bear with a piercing golden glare. She had never met the man, but was beyond well-acquainted with him, and with what he had done. She had been working to be face-to-face with him for years, had gone through so much. She had trained long and hard, cheated, lied, and killed to get to where she was at that moment. And she would kill again. "Indrys Fyrre, meet General Medrano." Greene introduced them formally. "General, mucho gusto," Indrys said in her native Spanish, with all politeness. She wasn't exactly lying. It really was nice to meet him, even if she might die while executing her long-held wish to rid the world of the likes of him. "Mucho gusto, senorita," Luiz replied, taking the young lady's hand to lift and kiss the back of it softly. Indrys steeled herself, fighting down the instinct to shudder at the touch of those reviled lips, or even the feel of the fat, furry fingers and their wicked claws. She wished to draw her hand away and slap at him, claw his eyes out, anything. She restrained herself. She knew she'd never be sure of finishing the job there, in the midst of all the guards. In Spanish, the bear spoke with a sympathetic tone: "I knew your family." As he continued, his voice twisted into something more sinister, despite his words being superficially those of condolences. "What happened to them was a true tragedy. Fire is such a horrific, painful way to die, I am told." The agonized echoes of her loved ones' screams from that fateful day flickered through her mind. The wide swath of burn-scarring upon her back flared with pain. It was as if she was back in that inferno once more. "Si," was all Miss Fyrre could say, her eyes burning with unconcealed hatred for the bear. Since it was clear he had no intention of hiding his past deeds from her, she made no effort to obscure her own seething rage. Smirking, Greene piped up, breaking the two Bolivians out of their murderous tete-a-tete. "Be careful what you wish for, my dear," he said smugly. Before she could react to the teasing from the pink-feathered male, Medrano's bodyguard, who was also his lieutenant and his brother, Ramon, snapped a paw around Indrys' arm. The general gestured in a grand and inviting way at his speedboat, prompting Ramon to escort the girl down onto the watercraft. Seeing the retinue and the woman making to leave, the draconic male revved his stolen dirtbike's engine and left the Quay. On the edge of the port, Greene called darkly after Medrano and Miss Fyrre: "Have fun, you two!" - At the same time, Vygo Fyrre, brother of Indrys, was darting through an open-air market near the port, still on the dirtbike. He had seen the yacht from which the General's speedboat had come, and to which it would now return. More importantly, he had spied a long line of fishing vessels of varying sizes, moored together and stretching out into the bay. Standing up on the bike's footrests, he scanned around, seeking a way to drive to said line of boats, for they formed a long arm near which Medrano's motorboat would need to pass. He knew his time was short, the bears who had his sister must already have been pulling away from Greene's portside base, alongside the small escort zodiac boat he had seen following the larger, sleeker craft. Revving the bike faster, Vygo sped through the marketplace, much to the dismay of a number of shoppers who were almost caught in his accelerating path. Finally, he broke free from the cluttered grouping of stalls and turned back toward the water once more - he did so assuming there would be a way through, not knowing there would be. He would not have slowed down, even if a fence was in his way, he couldn't spare even a moment of delay. Lucky for him, there was a clear path forward-- or clear enough! The draconic male surged forward, pushing the bike to its utmost in the short space he had before he would hit a discarded pallet that happened to be propped up at an angle in front of the fishing trawler that was the beginning of the line of boats. A couple crab traps were crushed under the spinning wheels of the bike just before Vygo ramped off the pallet and sailed through the air, his tail whipping around behind him in a vain attempt to stabilize his flight. The crew of the trawler in his path leapt out of the way as dragon and dirtbike landed atop crates and were almost instantly gone - the trawler had been side-on to Vygo and with the speed of the jump, his time on the crab boat was fleeting. Down he crashed onto the next watercraft, a longboat piled high with supplies. The owners of the goods either shouted in alarm and anger, or fell flailing into the bay as the red-scaled male used their property as a landing and stopping strip. Careening bodily forward and off the bike as it tumbled into the bow of the longboat, Vygo managed to get his long legs under him and running forward in time to jump to the next boat, and the next. Aside from his pursuit of Medrano and his sibling, it was doubly good he did not falter or tarry at all, given the irate locals behind him. He swung by his arms under the roof of another and paused long enough to spot Medrano's motorboat some distance ahead of him, which was just then passing the end of the communal mooring of fishermen. With target in sight, Vygo ran and vaulted his way from boat to boat, nearer to the end of the lazily curling merchant flotilla. He came to a stop upon an unoccupied, rusty rowboat that had been fitted with an outboard motor. He knew he could not run all the way to Medrano, of course, and he quickly worked to cast off the ropes that moored him to the larger fishing boat adjacent. The general's speedboat - puttering slowly forward due to being unaware of their pursuer - drew ever closer to the yacht, which may as well have been a floating fortress. If Indrys was taken aboard there, Vygo reasoned, all was lost. Just as Vygo was about to tug the starter cord on the rowboat's motor, he heard a gun cocking and a sharp yell in French. It seemed the owner of the boat had noticed his livelihood was about to be stolen. Raising his hands, looking up at the feline fisherman and cursing inwardly, Vygo's mind raced until his thoughts were interrupted by a loud and vaguely sibilant remark. "It helps when you're less disruptive before attempting theft." Looking toward the source of the familiar English-accented voice, Vygo only just had time to see the stack of bills flying at his face. He only barely caught the money. "That should help grease the wheels," said Sond, glancing at the irate Haitian, whose eyes were on the money, instead of Vygo's head. More importantly, his finger was off the trigger. "Pour votre bateau!" Vygo said, tossing the cash at the cat, who fumbled with his gun to catch it. At the same time, Vygo was starting the boat and moving to catch up with the snake, who had glided past. The snake was aboard a motorboat with a metal shell of a hull and a crudely constructed wooden interior, which seemed rough-hewn at best, with a strange single control podium in the middle of its deck. He began to accelerate forward in earnest as Vygo drew up alongside him. Not wanting to be spotted before they got close, they knew to keep their engines at half speed for the time being. "Do you have a plan?" Sond called over at Vygo. "Not at all! Do you?" the dragonfolk yelled back. The python grinned. "I was hoping you did!" He looked over Vygo's boat while glancing toward Medrano's across the water. They had to come up with something before they ran out of bay between them and their quarry. "I know one thing: Yours makes for a better missile than mine," noted the naga. The time was upon them: Medrano's speedboat was just about to pass in front of the two smaller vessels piloted by python and dragon. "You might be right," grumbled Vygo, with a hint of reluctance, then snapped: "Just make sure to grab her!" Despite his trepidation, Vygo accelerated the Yamaha outboard, shooting forward toward the enemy's broadside. Sond shifted to cut over Vygo's wake, heading toward the rear of the long, sleek target vehicle. As his motor roared and with mere seconds before impact, the draconic male wound a rope from the rear of the rowboat around his arm to help brace himself against flying headfirst into the hull of the slightly taller, gleaming vessel. With a terrible wrenching screech of metal on metal, Vygo's boat harpooned itself into the side of Medrano's. Indrys, the general, his bodyguard and the boat's pilot were either knocked to the floor or onto hands or knees with the great sideways lurch of their transportation. At the same instant, Vygo was launched off his crossbeam seat and into the air-- before the rope anchoring his arm jerked him back, onto the next bench-like beam forward. He groaned, and simultaneously untangled the rope from his forearm and rolled into the water. He reasoned a number of men with guns would soon be peering into the rowboat, and he did not fancy being found immobile. An even greater number of men with guns upon the yacht - who had been monitoring their leader's return to them - scrambled to reach their other escort zodiac boats, to assist and repel the apparent attack with the quick interceptor crafts that were so often used by various militaries. Upon the speedboat, Indrys had found her feet, as well as finding herself standing above a prostrate former dictator. Her heart leapt into her throat and she ripped up the right side of her skirt to access the concealed holster upon her right thigh. Just as she drew it out, she felt a whisper of sensation against her side. She ignored it, entirely focused on the despicable bear's ugly visage, and how she would soon fire as many bullets as she could into it. The gun flew out of her hand and bounced into the water as she herself was snatched mightily backwards, clean off the speedboat. A thick brown tail had rapidly hooked around her middle - that had been the soft sensation upon her. She landed heavily in a pile of coils and heard a motor kick into high gear as Sond, her 'rescuer,' accelerated away from the chaos of the speedboat and the motorized rowboat impaled into its side. Clawing his way back onto his feet, Medrano's claw jabbed at the boat being driven by the naga in the black jacket, shouting in Spanish at his men, and the men he could see approaching from the yacht on their zodiacs. "There! Them! After them! After THEM! NOW! GET HER!" As they passed by the floundering speedboat, he waved the tactical vessels on frantically, cursing and adding: "RAPIDO!" The black boats, manned by Medrano's men dressed in white and wielding submachine guns, were more nimble than Sond's vessel, quicker, and he knew it. He glanced back, and began to turn slightly. Never run away in a straight line, he reminded himself; marksmen and bullets love straight lines. Clamouring up out of his coils, Miss Fyrre clutching onto the central control podium where the snake stood, looking at him, aghast. The last she had seen him was the alley where her brother had jumped out of the car to deal with the naga. She shouted over the engine: "[b]You[/b]! What the hell are you doing? Where's my brother?!" Ignoring her questions - as he knew she couldn't and shouldn't believe anything he said about the fate of the absent sibling - indignance rose in the reptilian male. She [i]should[/i] have seen that he had pulled her out of a situation that could never have ended well for her. "You're welcome!" "You idiot! Take me back!" "You know, maybe I'll do that later," he scowled, piloting the boat back into the more populated area of the bay, aiming to hopefully lose their pursuers in the numerous other watercraft that dotted the water's surface. Without warning, a clawed hand whipped up to slap-slash at Sond's snout. 00S was struck, but he twisted away before her talons could catch anything. When her other arm came at him, he was ready: He leaned back, snatching her limb out of the air and forcing it down in the same motion. He twisted it and she was forced to shift with the torsion, spinning and slamming her back against his front. They stood together in front of the control panel for a split-second in what could have been an intimate position for a leisurely boat trip, where they shared the controls. Instead, Sond was wrenching the girl's arm around her own front, attempting to hold her with one arm while his other hand clutched the wheel. Quickly, he swapped hands, trying to grab her bicep from the other side, while his hand that had been upon her went for the wheel. His aim was to more securely hold her while he continued to steer. It almost worked, but Indrys would not be so easily contained, twisting further back, flexing the whole of herself to squeeze her head down and out of the lock Sond had almost made out of her own arm. Grunting, she pressed up on his hold with her other arm - which created just enough room for her to worm down and out. She was left behind the naga's upper half, with his arm still half attempting to hold her; she grabbed it and flexed it hard up against his back, shoving him forward and down against the wheel in an arm lock restraint. She pressed in tight against him, her other hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. All the while, Sond steered as best he could, focusing almost entirely on escape, instead of on the draconic woman. But now, she was becoming more than just a nuisance. "You're not one of Greene's," she reasoned loudly, into the back of the serpent's neck. By way of response, Ames wound his tailtip quickly around the girl's head and pulled her partially away from his boat-piloting fore-portions. She cried out in muffled alarm, her mouth covered by snake-scales and the sinuous muscle beneath them - and still her claws clutched his clothes, his collar, his neck. They careened past stationary boats, and the zodiacs grew ever-closer. The snake and dragon had reached a stalemate of sorts, and Sond glanced back to ask, "Dominic Greene?" So the whole company was corrupt. That solved that. The sound of peppering automatic gunfire ripped across the water as the hired hands in the zodiacs gave up on simply chasing the evasive fishing boat Sond was manning. "Get down!" Sond ordered, shoving the girl floorward with his tail next to the erect wooden control panel. Her claws were ripped out of his jacket after gouging furrows through the lightweight fabric. He didn't mind, given it was never his to begin with. With her safely lowered, he let go of her head, trying to show he wasn't intent on holding her captive. Out of nowhere, another zodiac appeared on 00S' port side, aiming to ram him. The metal-shelled vessel's speed was such that the offending inflatable-framed craft clipped Sond's back end, forcing the snake into a counter-clockwise spin. Only Ames' grip on the wheel kept his torso from flopping entirely to one side at the violent exchange of momentum. With their throttle still wide open, Sond and Indrys' boat ended up speeding directly back toward the zodiac that had been chasing them all along. The bullets came all the faster now, both from the gunners letting loose at an advancing target and from the combined speed of the two vessels hurtling toward one another. Sond ducked down behind the upright control panel, while the female Fyrre took shelter just behind the front of the boat, which was angled upward with their great velocity upon the water. Splinters of wood exploded outward and pangs of ricochets off the metal outer hull rang in a discordant staccato as the sustained machine gunfire hit their craft. Though it seemed counter to the aim of escape, Sond did his best to aim directly at their attackers, to keep his shield viable. Also, if they passed directly next to one another, the gunmen would need to turn completely around rather than smoothly follow a more distant passing target. At the same time, Indrys found a fishing gaff. Seizing it in the heat of the moment, she leapt up at the last second as the two boats scraped past each other and swung wildly at the white-shirted body of one of their foes. The maned wolf tried to lean away, but his gun was caught by the hook: it was wrenched out of his hands, but the gun's strap around his frame was the real issue. He was rotated painfully in place, twisting his legs into an impossible, unsustainable stance. The scant moment of the boats passing one another ended with the gaff slipping out of Indrys' hands as the wolf tumbled over the edge of his vessel. Indrys collapsed back into the bow of the fishing boat, and Sond looked approvingly down at her, then back at the zodiac, which was quickly spinning 'round to give chase once more. In his momentary distraction, Sond found they were close to running into a trawler, and swung around it before continuing away from the zodiac, which gave the little black boat time to close the distance. Hopping up to grip the control podium once more, Indrys shouted: "Give me the wheel!" as she had seen Sond's almost-accident. Retorting, Ames snarled, "Navigate!" while both zodiacs once again drew closer behind the fishing boat. Indrys acquiesced and kept an eye open for any potential vectors of escape as Sond zigzagged through the bay, betwixt larger, unmoving hulls. After a moment, Indrys screamed, "Left!" over the rush of water and the constant engine rumble. Sond turned before he even saw what she was directing him toward. Then he saw it: a pair of dinghies moored together within a long line of otherwise impassable, strung-together boats. The tiny boats were easily smashed through and over at the last second, leaving the smaller zodiacs behind, as they missed the turn or were too cautious to attempt to mount the dinghies. The zodiac pilots waved at each other to continue to the end of the line of communal-moored boats, seeing Sond speeding along on the other side. Swinging around at the end of the line, the snake shoved the throttle fully open once more, heading directly toward the two chasers. Seeing the possible chance to flee in the other direction vanish, the Fyrre girl yelled in confusion, "What're you doing?!" "Hold on to something!" Sond commanded, slipping the last few feet of his tail around her middle once more as they accelerated madly at the twin noses of the black boats. He hunkered down behind the tall control panel once more and the dragon-damsel darted down to the deck as gunfire sprayed in their direction again. Sond adjusted the steering slightly without looking, heading toward the sound of the guns. As the occupants of the attacking zodiac saw the snake's boat veer into a direct collision course with them, the gunfire stopped and the pilot tried to turn. This turning was their downfall as it exposed the pliable underside of the lighter boat. A heavy thundering ram that saw the zodiac approaching a 45 degree angle above the water juttered the pair of males off their feet. The gunman dropped his weapon and the pilot fell far away from the controls, his hand on the throttle yanking it back down to naught before his fingers were dislodged by his falling form. They were dead in the water, metaphorically speaking. Sond swung around, to see if he might make that assessment more literal. As the two thugs got back to their feet, the python's boat quickly bore down on them. The one with the gun struggled with the bolt, panic gripping his body, while the other hopped to the controls and gunned the motor. But it was too late for them to move out of a dead stop; the naga's metal hull shot inescapably forward, pointed nose spearing through the water toward the zodiac's vainly struggling engine. There was just enough time for the crew of two to dive out of the way as the rusted metal monster smashed through the outboard motor, setting off a small explosion, the entire contents of its gas tank erupting in a ball of flame through which Sond's vessel shot. While they continued nearly unslowed forward across the water, the snake smirked at Indrys who gaped at the carnage in their wake. The woman had the last say, though, as she saw the other black boat giving chase, its remaining gunner lining up a shot at Sond's back. "Get down!" she shouted, grabbing the snake's shoulder to tug him earthward and to one side, just as countless new wood-chips sprang from the control stand - right where the naga's upright area had been a split-second before. The two boats sped through a jumble of sailboats, giving much-needed cover. Sond sprang back up and slalomed himself and his companion through a few turns, letting their pursuers get close. Close enough for aiming to be all the easier, if not for the constant swerving the zodiac pilot needed to do, to keep following the dent-riddled boat. With his foes immediately behind him, Sond cut all power to the engine, and his speed died away. The nose of the still-speeding lightweight craft behind them ramped up the rear of the ramshackle vehicle, striking a shocked Indrys hard enough to send her sprawling onto the floor of the boat, knocking her out. Sond, who was mostly underneath the zodiac's front half as it bobbed and swayed above the rear half of the snake's vessel, looked around for the second half of his spur-of-the-moment plan. Surely there had to be one here somewhere! The zodiac, mounted as it was upon the fishing boat, was a steep, slippery environment: the gunman who had been perched in the bow had tumbled back into the central control column and lost his gun entirely, while the pilot had nearly fallen away from the controls. The throttle full open, propelling both boats forward - albeit slower, due to one engine pushing two boats. The mercenary pilot struggled to pull himself up by the boat's wheel and reverse the throttle, to hopefully dislodge the two watercraft. There came then the fresh roar of another engine as a new boat joined the aimlessly speeding conjoined fray. "Snake!" shouted someone on the other boat. Expecting to look up into the barrel of a gun, 00S risked a look out from under the bow of the zodiac. Upon the new boat was the draconic male, holding knotted rope and what looked like a giant four-pronged fishhook made out of a quartet of bent shafts of rebar welded together. "Here!" Vygo yelled, tossing over the heavy knot to Ames, who lunged upward to catch it and begin tying the rope to the nearest available mooring upon the little black boat's nose. Dropping the makeshift anchor he had found, Vygo made sure to stand clear of the coils of rapidly unspooling rope. Able to hear the splash and the whipping loops of dwindling slack, Sond knew he had mere moments to finish securing the other end of the anchor's line to the zodiac, lest his fingers get caught and pulled clean off. The gunman on the zodiac had recovered his firearm and was trying to lean out from the side of the boat to shoot underneath it, at the python. The upturned craft he rode wobbled and shook, and did him no favours in attempting to lean out, but he inched closer to where he could begin to see a clear shot. As soon as Sond was done, he threw himself backwards, away from the curved nose. For a infinitesimal instant, he saw the line go slack. The rebar anchor had reached the bottom of the bay some distance back, where it had been dropped, and had securely caught a rock. After that tiny moment in time, the zodiac was suddenly gone. It stopped so suddenly that it appeared to disappear from the situation. The submachinegun-holding thug, leaning on the cylindrical side of the boat was suddenly in mid-air and flailed his limbs before hitting the water. Yards behind him, his boat had gone from 45 degrees nose-up to the same inclination, nose-down. Its momentum carried it through to being entirely perpendicular to the surface of the bay, which was when the pilot started to tumbled over and off the controls he had been clutching. By the time he was falling through open air and into the water, he was below a now upside-down boat, which was also spinning slowly to one side, its flight and orbit in utter chaos. The now harmless black boat slapped back onto the water with a hearty clap, just as Vygo's own craft butted up against the side of Sond's. Upon his foot, the dragon's talons clutched both edges of the two boats together as he stomped from one to the next. He wore a smug expression for having saved the day. Scowling back was the naga who had done almost all the work up to that point. But his ire was lost on the draco-human, whose eyes had fallen onto the form of his sister. He gasped and snatched her up. "She's okay! Just took a zodiac to the head," Ames reassured over the sound of the engine, and with a touch of humour. "Leave it to my sister to get hit by a whole boat and be just fine," muttered the rather tall Vygo, shifting his smaller sibling in his arms until her knees were over one arm and her upper back atop the other. As the naga piloted out of the bay, he glanced over at the half-unconscious pair. "So now you believe me when I say I'm not out to kill you two?" The stoic male grunted what sounded like an agreement. "Even if I helped save her, you're not going to tell me anything about Greene, are you?" Sond asked, looking between where he was going, at the siblings, and back over his shoulder, checking for any further pursuers. Thankfully, none appeared. After a moment, Vygo said, "I don't know you." While piloting the boat up a wide tributary that feeds into the bay, the serpent twisted to offer his hand, and his name, to the dragon. "Sond. Ames Sond." The hand was not taken, given that Vygo's were full of his sister. Sond returned to steering the craft toward a hotel he knew, one with its own dock for its guests. it was just upriver from the bay. "I'm Vygo Fyrre, and this is Indrys. Now we know each other, but that's all." "Fine," said Sond tersely. He was thinking about his phone, which was tracking the donkey who had appeared to be an assistant to the flamingo. Following him suddenly seemed a better idea than trying to get anything out of the taciturn drake-man. - Soon, Ames and Vygo reached the resort, and began to disembark amid a crowd of gawking tourists. By way of explanation, both of the dripping wet men - inadvertently simultaneously - announced: "She's seasick." With that, the python left the twins behind. ~ Soon the serpentine spy would leave Haiti as well, on the trail of the flamingo and his mysterious organization. Nevertheless, this would not be the last time he saw the Fyrre twins. ~ Amethystine as Ames Sond (c) to his owner. Indrys and Vygo Fyrre (c) to WhiteMantis. James Bond 007 and related IP (c) to Ian Fleming, Albert R Broccoli's EON Productions and MGM.