An hour had passed, and Marcus was on his twelfth bar. The previous eleven had all been the same. He'd chat with the bartender, ask about mayflower, and the bartender would immediately bring up the ship.
His investigation was becoming tiresome, and it left him drained of conversation skills.
As he entered the twelfth bar, he walked straight past the bartender, and towards a far back table in the corner. There Marcus sat down and laid his head on the table.
He sat there for a while, around three minutes or so, until eventually, a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts approached his table.
He had long gray hair and a well-trimmed beard. The man was clearly aged, yet his body was toned and well-defined, leading him to look younger than he probably was.
"Not interested," Marcus said almost on instinct, having to reject several people who had approached him already.
"Well, ain't that strange." The man said with a soft chuckle. "And here I was told a little birdie was flapping its wings in my nest." The man said with a chuckle as he sat beside Marcus.
"What does that even mean?" Marcus asked as he played with a straw, rolling it across the table with his breath before catching it.
The man smirked as he crossed his arms, "Well, have you heard the saying good things come to those who wait?"
"So you're a preacher?"
The man chuckled, "Nah, I think god abandoned this old soul a long time ago." The man then glanced at Marcus, "I'm more like a ship, floating wherever the wind takes me."
Marcus sighed, "If I hear the word ship one more time I'm going to explode."
"Even if it was the mayflower?" The man asked.
Marcus quickly sat up, his chair sliding around the floor and creating a loud scraping sound. "What do you know?" He asked desperately. "Please."
The man chuckled heartily, it was a deep laugh, one from the chest. "Calm down lad." He said as he stopped laughing, "and tell me why you're looking for him."
Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as he scooted closer to the man. "He's affiliated with this group calling themselves Kiba, a mercenary group. Marcus explained, "Well during one of their attacks on the organization, this woman, dressed in tactical gear, gave me this card telling me to find Mayflower, and all evidence pointed to Mayflower being here, but this guy or girl or whatever, is so hard to find, it's impossible."
The man nodded his head. "You're with our mutual friends lad?" The man asked, "That organization you mentioned…"
Marcus nodded. "Yeah, I'm an office…." Marcus paused mid-sentence. Was he supposed to reveal that much information to a stranger?
He hadn't mentioned anything about anomalies, so he should be fine, right?
But Mayflower was technically working with the Kiba mercenaries, and Marcus was an officer of the organization.
So they would be enemies.
Marcus glanced at the man, who sat there with a soft smile. "It's strange that they'd send a rookie to search me, but it's even stranger that one of our operatives told you to find me." The man said, his tone calm as ever.
Marcus slowly began to rise from his seat, he went looking for this man, and he found him.
The man noticed then and gestured towards his pocket, "It's loaded." He said with a calm voice, his smile never leaving his face.
Marcus looked to the man's pocket, only to notice what looked to be the imprint of a pistol.
"I see," Marcus said softly, an unknowing smirk growing on his lips.
"Take a seat, and I'm going to tell you how this will play out." The man said, gesturing towards Marcus's seat.
Marcus obliged, settling back into his seat and giving the man his attention.
They noticed Marcus grin and raised an eyebrow, "You got a few screws loose don't ya?" He said with a chuckle, "I think I'm starting to understand why you were sent."
Marcus chuckled unintentionally, "Sorry, bad habit." He explained.
The man nodded. "Well, let's get this situation set straight." He said, crossing his arms as he sighed. "The way I see it, this talk can go two ways, either we talk like civilized men, or things get messy…"
Marcus smirked, "You can't kill me." He taunted, "Your bullets will go straight through, and I'll heal within seconds."
The man nodded, "But what about everyone here, can they heal themselves too?" He asked challengingly, his voice still calm and confident.
Marcus nodded, his smirk never fading. "Guess not."
"Exactly." The man replied. "Now, you mentioned one of our operatives told you about me, describe her."
"She was toned, short black and blonde hair, Caucasian, I can't remember for certain, but I think had different colored eyes gray and blue…"
The man chuckled. "CJ." He said with a reminiscent smile, "That brat always had a soft spot for idiots." He then sighed, "Still, I guess if she gave you that information she saw something in ya, the question is what exactly did she see."
Marcus shrugged, "you looking to find out?" He asked.
The man sighed as he nodded his head, "Well, given that you work for the opposition, there isn't much I can do for you." The man began, "However, I can repay a favor."
"I'm listening."
"First, I need to see if you're worth my time." The man said as he rose from his seat with a groan, "Come on lad, let's take a trip.
Marcus hesitated, but he quickly rationalized that if things grew out of hand, he was strong enough to make his way out.
Marcus followed the man out of the bar, and towards an old two-seater coupe. It was beat up and rusted around the edges, but it was still a nice-looking car.
"Get in." The man said as he slid into the driver's seat.
Marcus obliged and climbed into the passenger seat.
Entering the car, Marcus was met with the strong scent of cigarettes and booze. The leather interior of the car was peeling, revealing the white stuffing underneath it.
Marcus settled into the passenger seat, and the man subsequently turned the ignition, causing his car to roar to life, it now shook gently with power and drive.
The man then placed his foot on the gas pedal and pulled forward onto the busy city streets. Driving with one hand, he used the other to pull his phone out of his pocket and call someone.
"Who are you calling?" Marcus asked.
"Marisa, she's my right-hand gal." The man said with a smirk.
The phone rang for a few seconds before an irritated voice spoke out. "For fuck sake Paul, you pick the worst times to call."
The man, now known as Paul, chuckled. "Marisa, you know that 'problem' we have with subduing our merchandise?"
"What the fuck do you think I'm dealing with!" Marisa shouted.
Paul glanced over at Marcus, "I think I've found a solution, but I need to see if he can handle himself in a fight first, can you get a squad of ten… no twelve guys together, we'll meet at the usual spot."
"Paul I swear to god, if this is plans for another raid–"
"Hey!" Paul said loudly, cutting Marisa off, "You're on speaker love."
The voice on the other end fell silent, followed by a deep sigh. "Fine Paul, but this better be worth it." She then hung up the phone, followed by Paul tossing it on the dashboard.
"So what is this about exactly?" Marcus asked. Crossing his arms as he eyed Paul skeptically.
"We managed to swipe something pretty valuable from your organization, but it ain't cooperating as well as we need it to." Paul explained, "So I'm hoping you'll be the solution to that little issue, but first I need to see if you can fight."
Marcus sighed, "And why would I help you with this, we're enemies, remember?"
"Oh, that's rich coming from you lad, because if my memory serves me right, isn't it you who expects me to rat out my friends?"
"I just want information on your group," Marcus replied.
"And I want you to help move organization equipment, see how that works?" Paul said with a grin.
Marcus knew Paul had a point, this was a back-scratching situation, if Marcus threw his group under the bus, Paul would do the same.
An eye for an eye…
The rest of the drive was silent.
Marcus was filled with a growing sense of anticipation and excitement. He was practically itching for the upcoming fight.
He was also curious, about Marisa, about the 'merchandise', and about the problem, Paul was facing with moving it.
After a while, Paul finally arrived at what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Its walls were covered in graffiti and worn. With broken windows patterned out throughout it.
Outside the warehouse, were three black SUVs. They were parked near the entrance, with several armed men standing around them. There was also a short, black woman with a large afro and narrowed eyes.
"Marisa," Marcus whispered to himself.
Paul glanced over at Marcus with a curious expression, he then looked back at who Marcus assumed was Marisa. "Huh, I guess you people are connected spiritually." He commented as he turned the car off.
"Huh?" Marcus said in disbelief, "What do you mean 'you people'?" Marcus asked.
A wry smile played on Paul's lips, "Americans, obviously." He said with a chuckle as he stepped out of the car. "Come on."
Marcus couldn't help but smirk as he followed Paul out of the car.
As the duo walked towards the entrance, Paul waved at Marisa. "Hey, love." He said with a warm smile.
Marisa ignored Paul and focused her gaze on Marcus, studying him from head to toe. "This is your 'solution'? You're joking."
Marcus frowned, "Tch, I could kick your small ass any day." He quipped.
"Ohhh." Paul said as he raised a fist to his mouth, "Marisa, me personally, I wouldn't allow such disrespect, that's just me though." He said, clearly attempting to instigate the situation.
Marisa sighed deeply, "I'm gonna kill this kid." She said coldly.
"Unfortunately…." Paul said, rubbing his chin, "I need him alive, at least until we get our use outta him."
Marcus rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, he then looked over at the twelve armed and armored mercenaries, "so I'm fighting them?" Marcus asked.
"Yes," Paul said as he grabbed Marcus's shoulder, his grip tight.
Marcus nodded as he began to power a ball of ether in his left hand. The silver energy swirling in his hand and growing rapidly.
The mercenaries, who were clearly caught off guard, quickly aimed their weapons at Marcus, however, they didn't fire. They were looking towards Paul of Marisa to give the order.
Marcus wordlessly raised his hand and aimed it at the armed men. His ether blast was completed and ready to fire.
Marisa looked unimpressed, yet she too glanced at Paul. "Did you seriously waste my time for this mess?" She asked.
Paul smirked, then tightened his grip on Marcus's shoulder, causing him to look back with a raised eyebrow. "What?" Marcus asked.
"There's one thing I forgot to mention, you have to subdue them, without killing."
"What?" Marcus said as he lowered his hand towards the ground, shooting the ether blast into the dirt. It hit the ground with a hard smack. Leaving behind a small crater that burrowed deep into the dirt. "You're joking."
Paul shook his head, "Nope, if we needed people killed, trust me, you wouldn't be our first pick."
Marcus scrunched his face in annoyance. "Right, because fighting twelve guys with guns gives off the message of no killing," Marcus said sarcastically.
Paul smirked. "Hey, you have a healing factor, stop crying and use it."
Marcus rolled his eyes, but he didn't want to argue any further. Taking a deep breath he focused on the twelve men before him, they all had their weapons aimed with their fingers off the trigger.
Paul then crossed his arms as he and Marisa backed away. Once they were far enough back, Paul began to shout, "You guys can start when ready!"