The Peacemakers

by Jim Roberts

  Orchid's eyes caught a large party of people in a darkened corner of the rave hall, relatively untouched by the bright illumination lasers blasting ad nauseum across the dance floor. Half a dozen large bodyguards, well dressed in black suits stood watch in the corner. Their professional attire contrasted with their elaborate neck and hand tattoos. Each man wore reflective sunglasses as they kept their vigil over the rave. As Orchid closed in on the group, she could see several men behind the barricade of security, cavorting with a multitude of Russian call girls. One of the men, dressed in an outlandish pink and turquoise suit, was the exact match for Orchid's target.

  "Found him. East corner. I'm approaching now."

  "Watch yourself."

  Orchid walked the stairs from the rave floor. As she approached the line of bodyguards, one of them raised his burly, tattooed hand to stop her.

  "This is a private party Miss. Ostavlyat." The man said curtly, obviously wanting her to get lost. Orchid noted that none of the men appeared armed, at least with visible firearms.

  "I thought this was a party?" She said in a sotto voice. "Vassili put out a call for the best in the business. That is why I am here."

  The bodyguard was scrutinizing her. His head was bald and heavily tattooed as well. Baldy looked over to one of the gangsters watching the party with a bored expression on his face. He gave a rather tired nod back. Baldy motioned for Orchid to raise her arms and give up her purse for a search. He quickly patted her down, taking a few extra seconds to run his hands down her hips before waving her through. Orchid smiled her most sincere smile while trying to avoid breaking the scumbag's windpipe.

  The man, Vassili Kutsenko, saw the devastating Asian woman approach. He quickly tossed the far too young girl he had been playing with to the side.

  "Ah, my friends at agency send a new girl I have not seen yet!" He grinned a toothy smile, showing several gold teeth. "What is your name?"

  "Mariko." Orchid answered, picking the simplest name that came to mind.

  "Mariko...nice." Kutsenko grinned even wider, his lusty eyes moving over Orchid's form. "They finally got some foreign girls for me! Come and sit here!"

  Orchid moved to sit in between the slimy Russian and the young girl. Orchid noted the girl was practically out of her mind on some sort of barbiturate; barely comprehending where she was. The Russian instantly put his hand on Orchid's naked leg. It took everything in her not to slap it away and break his neck.

  "You are beautiful. Most beautiful woman I have seen in weeks! Why I not see you before?"

  "I'm new. Just got in the country a week ago."

  "Ah!" Vassili said, smiling at his crew. "A new shipment! Of course." He reached for his glass of vodka resting on the transparent table in front of them. He downed it in a moment before tossing it as hard as he could towards the dance floor. "This is my city now. I make rules, I am king here!"

  Orchid smiled, patiently. "People respect you?"

  "Oh baby, people worship me! I can get anyone anything−only man in Chelyabinsk who can do that." He poured another glass of high quality vodka and raised it for a toast. His crew brought their drinks up as well.

  "To capitalism, huh?" He laughed wildly as he guzzled the beverage. Slamming the glass back down, he grabbed a small container the shape of a pill dispenser and raised it to his nose. Taking a long snort, he put his head back and howled.

  Whisper's voice came through the comlink, "I don't know if we're gonna get anything out of this guy."

  Orchid didn't respond. She knew this was the perfect way to get a man to talk. His inhibitions were completely gone. Time to push. She placed her hand on Vassili's knee.

  "I heard from the other girls that you work with dangerous men."

  "I am dangerous!" Vassili replied. He was sweating profusely. The stink of the man almost made Orchid gag.

  "Tell me about them." She moved her hand up his thigh. The information-broker's eyes bulged.

  "Worked with all sorts. Killers, gangsters. Military. They want anything: guns, drugs, women, children, I get it!"

  "Military," Orchid coaxed, "Sounds risky."

  "You have to play cards right. Make them trust you." He drunkenly swooped in to try and kiss her. Orchid flinched for a second but made it seem like she was playing hard to get. Once she had had what she needed, she could break away and make a fast exit.

  "So what else do you do for these people?"

  "You ask lot of questions for call girl." He said, his mood breaking somewhat.

  Orchid had to up the ante. She moved herself closer, allowing her nearness to make the drunk mobster forget his doubts of her honesty.

  "You're just an interesting man. Can you make someone...disappear?"

  Vassili laughed, forgetting his suspicions. "Of course! I can make anyone vanish. Off face of earth if need be!"

  Orchid moved her face closer to the gangster, her eyes seducing him. She placed a hand against his chest. The hard feel of a gun holster told her the man was armed.

  "Did you do these vanishings for the military?"

  "Not Russian military. Other...Private one."

  "Private?"

  "Yes...large PMC. Olympus I think."

  "You vanished people for them?" She moved her lips closer to his. Vassili was lost in her tempting eyes.

  "Yes...moved many for them. Some I even..."

  Suddenly he pushed Orchid off him. Everyone in the crew surrounding them jumped.

  "You are no call girl! Trying to use me!"

  The bodyguards became alerted, spinning around to see what was the matter. Vassili leapt up, screaming.

  "She is spy or something! Take her!"

  Whisper's voice came through the comm. "Get out of there Orchid! Now!"

  Orchid had seconds to act. She could see Vassili reach for his sidearm. She lunged forward, aiming a open-handed thrust at the drunk's throat. He was bringing a small Tokarov pistol to bear when she connected hard, smashing his windpipe and momentarily dazing him. The gun fell from Vassili's nerveless hand as he grasped at his throat−trying to breathe. The weapon fell below the table, temporarily out of sight. Orchid grabbed one of the half full vodka bottles on the table in front of her and swung around to face the first bodyguard unlucky enough to attempt to mess with her. A tall creep leered toward her, preparing to rend his enemy apart. Orchid easily side-stepped his slow attack and brought the bottle down hard on his head, smashing it in a shower of glass and liquor. She followed through with a reverse hand chop to his throat. The bodyguard dropped to one knee gasping for air.

  The remaining five bodyguards were bearing down upon her fast. She had to level the playing field.

  She sprinted towards the first unlucky bastard closest to her and delivered a spinning back kick into his solar plexus with enough force to send him sprawling end over end into the rave floor. Baldy was next, pulling a wicked curved linoleum knife from his jacket; ready to carve this obvious spy to shreds.

  Orchid never gave him the chance. With lightning grace, she spun out of the way of the knife thrust and grabbed the goon's arm. Taking his forward momentum and reversing it, Orchid bent Baldy's arm back like a bow. The satisfying sound of bones cracking told her she'd snapped the man's forearm. Not finished with him, she delivered a powerful punch into the goon's arm. Another snap told her she'd given the bastard a compound fracture. Baldy would never again be able to use the arm at full mobility. The bodyguard groaned in pain before a quick backhand on his neck dropped him to the floor, unconscious. The linoleum knife dropped from his nerveless hands.

  The crowd on the rave floor barely noticed the tussle. To them, it was all part of the night's entertainment.

  There were still four enraged bodyguards moving towards her. In one smooth move, Orchid crouched and picked up the linoleum knife springing towards the next bodyguard: a thin, rather unimposing goon with horrible teeth and spiked black hair. Orchid languidly arched her back and brought a devastating reverse-roundhouse kick towards the man's face. It con
nected perfectly−her high heeled shoe smashing into the scumbag's temple. The power of the attack sent the man sprawling into one of the pillars scattered throughout the rave hall. His jaw smashed against the hard gypsum, splattering blood and teeth everywhere.

  Two muscled arms grabbed Orchid from behind, holding her momentarily immobile. She reacted to this by jamming the linoleum knife into the creep's thigh. The man screamed in pain as his grasp on Orchid loosened enough for her to wriggle out of his arms. She placed a Silat open fisted strike across the bodyguard's face, connecting with his nose and breaking it utterly. Blood sprayed in a geyser from the crushed appendage and the man toppled to the ground.

  The final two bodyguards hung back for a moment, unsure whether to continue to attack so confident a foe. The creep on the right, a tall and well limbered man in his late thirties, reacted first. He charged Orchid with his own knife at the ready. He thrust forward, trying to catch Orchid in the face with the razor sharp tool. With perfect accuracy, Orchid dodged aside and grabbed the outstretched hand of her foe. In a quick move, she broke his wrist with a fast akido follow through. For the finish, she pushed the man's hand−still holding the knife−into his own neck. The man gasped in horror as the tool stuck into his throat. He fell to the rave floor, gasping for breath and trying to staunch the flow of life's blood from the wound.

  The final bodyguard took one final look before fleeing in the opposite direction.

  "You bitch!"

  The voice came from the darkened den Orchid had just escaped from. Vassili was standing at the edge of the dark den area, holding his throat. Orchid became aware of a multitude of additional bouncers and bodyguards streaming towards her from the side doors of the rave hall. Apparently, the owners of the club didn't take kindly to those picking fights with its honored members. She counted nearly twenty men in total, wielding everything from baseball bats to sharpened kitchen knives.

  She had stirred up a hornet's nest.

  The dancers in the rave floor started to realize this was getting real. They began to disperse, moving into the corners of the hall or out of the club altogether. Orchid didn't wait around. She jackknifed over the separating barricade and onto the rave floor. The assorted Russian bouncers and bodyguards streamed down into the dance pit, weapons ready to transform this upstart woman into mulch.

  "Kill her now!" Vassili screamed from his place atop the dance floor.

  A thunderous explosion from the skylight made every occupant of the rave hall look to the ceiling. A figure plummeted from above to land in the center of the rave floor, accompanied by a shower of glass.

  Whisper crouched for a few seconds before standing to his full height. He pulled his Mantis Staff from its resting place on his thigh and extended it to its six foot length. Orchid moved to join her backup, arms outstretched in a Silat stance of readiness.

  "Miss me?" Whisper said in his ghost of a voice.

  "I was handling it."

  "I can see that."

  The crowd of the rave hall were absolutely floored by the sight of the heavily armored soldier standing with the young Asian martial artist. They began to cheer bor'ba bor'ba, or 'fight' in Russian. The twenty or so bodyguards organized themselves in a circle around Orchid and Whisper, not sure what it was they were facing, but more than prepared to take these interlopers down no matter what.

  "Need a weapon?" Whisper asked.

  "No."

  Someone in the rave hall cranked the eurotrance music to full decibel.

  It was on.

  "KILL THEM!" Vassili screamed.

  All the bodyguards rushed at once. The two Peacemakers exploded into action. Whisper neatly took two men down with a well placed sweep attack of the Mantis Staff−knocking the creeps off their feet and onto their backs to lay painfully on the multicolored floor. Orchid disarmed one man; breaking his arm in three places before delivering a vicious kick to the man's genitals.

  For the next few breathless minutes, the two warriors created a scene of mass destruction, taking apart their enemies in an entrancing ballet of martial arts skill and technique. Orchid spun and danced nimbly, taking down her enemies with brutal kicks and forward combos. Every so often she caught a glimpse of her partner. Whisper utilized the Mantis Staff in wide arcs, scything through his enemies like reaping barley. In less than a minute, he had laid waste to ten of the bouncers, suffering no ill effects in the tussle. One bodyguard managed to grab Callbeck from behind, enfolding the armored soldier in a massive bear hug. Whisper's response to this was to bring his helmet back into the man's nose, breaking it. As the goon stood dazed, Whisper gripped him by the arm and heaved him across the dance floor like a shot put. The man crashed against the side of the dance arena, breaking God knows how many bones.

  It wasn't long after before the remaining bodyguards had had enough, realizing they were woefully overmatched. They dropped their weapons and bolted for the exits. The rave dancers cheered at the two victors as they stood together in the open area of the dance floor.

  "Guess this town loves a winner." Whisper said, retracting the Mantis Staff.

  Orchid looked towards the last location of Vassili. As she had expected, the information-broker had taken off as soon as he saw his bodyguards were losing the fight. Frantically, Orchid searched the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fleeing scumbag. She thought she saw the man's loud suit near the northeast exit. She grabbed Whisper by the shoulder and pointed. Danny understood immediately and the two rushed after the fleeing criminal. The rave crowd applauded enthusiastically as the Peacemakers disappeared out the back door.

  * * *

  VASSILI KUTSENKO burst out of the rear exit of the War Zone club. Losing his balance, he toppled into the foot of snow that had collected in the alley. The sight of the two skilled warriors carving through his bouncers like turkeys on Thanksgiving, had sobered the crook up enough to gain the sense to get the hell out of dodge. He managed to pull himself onto his feet and took off down the alley, running as fast as his flimsy legs could go.

  Something struck him hard in the back and he was sent sprawling to the ground. He heard the sound of sirens coming towards the club from around the corner, just out of his reach. Whatever had hit him had been enough to render his legs practically useless and he could only barely manage to pull himself along. His only hope was to reach the street and call the police to help him.

  He never got the chance.

  A heavy boot slammed down on the sleazy Russian's back, pinning him to cold concrete.

  "Mister Kutsenko. We need to talk."

  The voice was so quiet, it was almost alien−as if filtered through a voice box. Vassili could see nothing from his point of view, with his head practically buried in the snow. He did manage to see a pair of high heeled feet walk up to stand over him as well.

  "Maybe this time, you'll be a bit more courteous."

  The woman.

  "Fuck you, sooka! I say nothing!"

  The foot on his back pushed down hard. Vassili gagged in agony.

  "I'd speak to the lady with a little more respect if I were you, sir." The armored man spoke with absolute assurance.

  "Sosi Hui!" Vassili swore again.

  "Maybe you didn't hear me−" The weight on his back lifted. He felt a powerful hand grab him by the collar of his jacket and hoist him to his feet. He was spun around to face the man in the armor. His shell-like helmet stared blankly into Vassili's eyes. The armored man leaned forward until his helmet was practically touching Vassili's face. "−you will cooperate, right?"

  Vassili spat on the helmet. "Go to hell!"

  The iron soldier looked at the Asian woman for a moment. "This will just take a second."

  Before Vassili knew what was happening, he was pulled into the air by the unbelievably strong man. With powerful leaps that seemed impossible for any mortal to accomplish, the iron soldier leapt up the side of the Rave building, jumping from handhold to handhold while hauling Vassili roughly up with him. The Russian screamed as hi
s world went topsy turvy. In the blink of an eye, they were on top of the four story concrete building. The armored man reversed his grip on Vassili, spinning him upside down with almost no effort at all. Gripping the Russian by the ankle, the iron soldier held Vassili steady over the alleyway.

  "Now listen and listen good, comrade." The man's electronically filtered voice was laced with cold menace. "You aided a group of Olympus Private military scientists several years ago in changing their identities."

  "I don't know what you are−"

  "Shut up!" The man loosened his grip on Vassili's leg. The Russian screeched, but quickly fell silent. "Now these men were placed all over Europe by your associates. All but two are dead−Doctor's Hans Mobus and Alexi Kiselyov. Tell me where you sent him and I'll let you go."

  Vassili seemed confused at the question. "Kiselyov is dead! Did you not hear?"

  The iron soldier seemed taken aback by the news. "What? When?"

  "This morning! Heard on TV news!"

  "Where is Hans Mobus?" The raspy voice sounded like it was losing patience.

  "Never! I can't tell you! Olympus would kill me!"

  "What the hell do you think I'm gonna do?"

  Vassili was out of options. This man had his number and he was going to cash it in.

  "Tell me soon, Mister Kutsenko. This is my weak arm."

  "Alright, alright...just don't kill me!"

  "You have my word. Talk!"

  Vassili did his best to speak as the blood began to rush to his head. "Ah...as you say I gave these men assumed identities. Mobus didn't want anything nice or comfortable. He just wanted a place away from any prying eyes. I had good idea for that."

  "Where is he?" The metal soldier gave Vassili a good jerk to persuade him.

  "He is in Ukraine! Pripyat, Ukraine! I swear. Small farmhouse, about one mile north of city proper, in the no man's land! Please let me go!"

  The armored man seemed to hesitate, as if seriously considering taking Vassili literally. But after a few agonizing seconds, he relented.

  "Good. Hold on."

  "What−"

  Vassili's next word was drowned by his own scream as the man leapt off the wall. Vassili was roughly shoved under the man's arm as they plummeted down eighty feet to the ground below. The iron soldier put an arm out and grasped the brick wall of the Rave; digging his hand into the brick mortar. He scraped down the side of the building, slowing his momentum as he went. The two men hit the ground safe and sound. The iron soldier dropped Vassili into the snow.