Abel Townsend wasn't a big man. He topped off at 5'6" and 130 lbs, thick glasses over nearly blind green eyes. But the kid was smart, no doubts there. He helped run the books for Finnegan Cargo Management. Today was a busy day. 12 ships, 12 Captains, 1400 units to be moved and taken to 14 different locations. A logistical nightmare, especially since Gerry had taken a personal day.

Those magnified green eyes turned up as the front door opened. The man who stepped through was tall, clad in a black suit, white shirt underneath worn open at the collar. He walked up to a shelf of equipment, running his fingers over an oar. Something about him just flat out unsettled Abel.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to Finnegan Cargo Management. How can I help you?"

Cold blue eyes rolled toward the slight clerk, regarding him like a flea. "Looking for someone."

Abel swallowed but continued on in the friendliest, most professional voice he could muster. "Are...are you a captain?"

The laugh came out as a sniff, a bemused look on the stranger's face. "I look like a captain to you?"

And no, in fact, he did not. Most of the Captains Abel dealt with were scraggly, somewhat dirty, drunks. This man was composed. Every move deliberate. He moved like a predator. "Where's your boss?"

Abel felt his throat tighten and his face burn. "He's...I...I'm not at liberty to-"

The stranger looked away as he started talking, his hand wrapped around a club and pulled it up, staring as he interrupted the skinny clerk. "You know what I don't like?" He glanced of over slowly. "Disappointment. When I get disappointed, I lose my temper. You know what happened the last time I got disappointed?"

Abel stared at him wide-eyed.

"I grabbed a bat...kinda like this one right here." he held up the club. "And walk up to the little pencil neck refusing to talk...and I hit him." He reached out and touched the end of the club to Abel's jaw. "Right here." He tapped lightly. "I hit him. And I hit him. And I hit him." Tap. Tap. Tap.

"See, kid. He didn't have anything to tell me. When I was done with him, he had nothing to tell anybody ever again. Understand?" his voice never rose above a conversational tone.

Those cold blue eyes stared into Abel's, the smaller man trembling. "So, I'll ask you again."

Jameson leaned forward, pushing the club against Abel's chin, his voice lowering to near a growl. "Where is Gerard Finnegan?"

It seemed like a bad plan, but they needed food for their dog. Against Gerry's advisement, Keirra went out on her own. The little rogue moved slowly to the apartment, holding that favored sword at her side. Her "body guard", some beefheaded knob from Gerry's work crew was never more than a few steps behind her. She slipped up to the door, back pressed to the wall. "Damn it, Starscream..." she whispered. She should've brought the dog, but she hadn't thought of it. She moved slowly into the apartment. He certainly looked intimidating, that was for sure. As she went move in, he stayed behind.

Jameson's voice whispered from a corner, hidden in shadow. "You scream and both of you die." She could see the barrel of a pistol trained on her.

"Oh, look....The cross-eyed scrotum monger is here..." she mumbled beneath her breath. She turned and pointed her sword at him as if it were a gun, but when she saw his weapon, the blade vibrated in her hand.

"Put that thing down before your arm falls off." His barely visible smirk directed at her, he gestured with his gun to the bed. "Sit."

Keirra looked at the window, deciding on what to do. She was fast, but she knew she wasn't fast enough to outrun a bullet. "Yeah, *** you very much..." Keirra said, sitting on the couch. She'd sit, but she wasn't sitting on the bed.

"Ophelia. Nuts. That was the bull** name you gave me, right?"

"Actually, I got divorced and went back to my maiden name. It's Ophelia Cox now."

"Funny." He stared at her a long moment. "You're a smart woman. What's someone like you doing with a piece of *** like Finnegan?"

"Again, I don't know what you're talking about....He's just the guy I moved in after," staring him down. "...if I was with him, I would say he's twice the man you are, so you can just *** right off."

"Enough with that flimsy pretense. you and I both know it's bull***. I know you know him. I saw the two of you with your dark haired girlfriend the other night."

"Fine, I'm with him." Keirra smiled, "And he's twice the man you are, so you can just *** right off. Better?"

"You think he's a good man?"

"I know he is," Keirra said, her eyes locking onto his.

"That what he's got you convinced of? That man has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. You think he's decent' Why' Because he batted his pretty eyes at you? Put on that lovable dumb guy act' Finnegan's a time bomb. One of these Days, he's gonna go off, and you don't wanna be in his way when he does."

A bottom lip popped out, "You're still sore from that beating he gave you?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

Jameson's head tilted, as he stared at her hard. "You ever wake up on a rickety old raft, your face torn open, so weak you can barely move from the blood loss" You ever looked around and seen only ocean for hundreds of miles in every direction' You think this is about a fight' No. This is about justice. For every son of a bitch who left me to die on that raft. Left me to do horrible things to survive. I been workin' my way down the list. Now it's his turn."

"You're not going to make me feel sorry for you, Jameson....You're certainly not going to get me to lead you to him." Keirra said, keeping the sword in her hand.

"This ain't about you leadin' me to him. I'd rather there not be collateral damage. This ain't about you. This is between me and him. " God he had a hell of a poker stare. "This is me bein' kind. Walk away. Or die screaming with him."

Keirra smiled softly, "You don't know me very well," she told him. "I'm going to have to go with option 3....Where he and I take you down. I'm sorry that you went through that, seriously. But if you hurt Gerry, you hurt me. I won't walk away from that. I'll kill you myself."

Jameson nodded, a grim on expression on his face. That was when a knock cane on the door. "Mrs. Finnegan' Everything alright?" The dumb kid's voice asked through the door trying to sound tough.

Keirra winced lightly, "Everything's fine!" she yelled. "Just grabbing a few things."

Jameson rose to his feet slowly. He stared down at her, and cocked his head to the one side, A pop coming from his neck.

"He doesn't even know you're in here," she hissed. "...what about collateral damage" Just let it go..."

"You had the chance to stop this." He started toward the door, throwing a glance back at her.

"GET BACK!" Keirra yelled out. The kid, instead kicked in the door, Jameson calmly moved out of it's path and put a boot into his stomach, sending him stumbling back against the wall. Gripping the sword in her hand, Keirra began panting lightly as she tried to collect her head. She got up to her feet, and stared with wide eyes. The kid got his bearings and took a wild swing, Jameson leaning out of the path and coming back up, a vicious elbow thrown in the young bruiser's face. Jameson's hand reached back and was thrust, lightning quick, palm connecting with the kid's nose, red bursting forth in a spray as his head slammed back, cracking the drywall. Moving on light feet, Keirra moved behind the man. She couldn't swing in a deadly place, she wasn't a killer. That didn't stop her from trying to stab the man in the thigh. Jameson turned to one side just in time, the blade catching his pant leg. As her thrust went as far as it could go, he grabbed her by the wrist with his right hand. The second her wrist was caught, her leg was flying up to try and catch him in his beans. Jameson's left was coming at her face quickly in a close fisted back-hand. When his hand clipped her face, she squeezed her eyes shut, and uttered a soft cry through her teeth.

Her kick caught him behind the thigh, her toe going around and hitting its mark. He grit his teeth and the pain radiated through his abdomen. Still dazed, the kid tried to throw a wild punch that connected only with Jameson's forearm as he turned quickly. That elbow came back one...twice...three times into his face before the big meathead fell onto his backside, his face dripping crimson.

Keirra's face slowly went through the lifespan of a bruise as she attempted to spin and get her wrist free. That left hand was moving to snatch his gun. Jameson's body turned from her, free hand moving to grab her by the face as quick as he could. His foot hooked and pulled against the back her her ankle, his body moving into the motion of his thrusting arm. Keirra felt her weightless body hit the floor without much effort needed from the man. Her head cracked against the floor, and she limpined for only a moment, still squirming lightly.

He stared own at her a long moment...that was when he heard it. Click. His own gun pressed to his side. He glanced at the weapon in her hands and looked down at her. "Crafty little bitch."

Keirra looked up at him with cold eyes, "Thanks....Now get the *** off of me before I paint the wall with you..." Those eyes stared down at her a long time, deciding what to do next. But he decided his point was made. Slowly he stood, backing toward the door, his hands up. Even now, a gun trained on him, he had that arrogant swagger in his movements. The expression on his face almost daring her to pull the trigger.

"No," Keirra said, staring him down. "Stay right there....I swear on my ability to orgasm, I will shoot you in the head."

"Maybe. You think you could" Right now your head is probably swimmin'. Feelin' a little dizzy. Little woozy. Might hit me. Might hit the door. Might hit your little friend down here."

Keirra took a step towards him, "You notice how my face isn't even a little red right now where you hit me"....I heal very fast," she hissed her warning. Though it was a lie, the blood was wearing off. "I know I could, now sit the *** down."

"No. I don't think you got it in ya." He shook his biting the inside of his cheek. "Nah. You ain't a killer. I seen killers and you ain't one of 'em. You're a hardass bitch, but you ain't got it in you to take me down."

Keirra kept the gun trained on him, "You want to try me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He quirked eyebrow and kept his hands up, moving to sit wherever she wanted him to. Legs took careful steps so that she could keep the gun trained on him. "Good boy, now stay." Condescending as ever as she stared him down and reached into her pocket for her phone. stared up to her with a smirk.

"The *** are you smiling about?" she asked as she dialed a number without looking.

"Do you realize I could kill you before that call goes through' I could get to my feet, break your neck, crash through that door, kill the kid in less time than it's taking me to describe it to you?"

"Faster than a bullet?" she asked, because she hadn't taken the gun off of him.

His brows raised. "wanna find out?"

"I'll take my chances," she said, and pressed the phone to her ear.

The thumb and forefinger of his tapped together as he stared at her, a tap for every second. "Yeah, Ginny....He's here, at the apartment." She uttered into the phone, her attention directed away for a mere second. As soon as she said "apartment", his left arm swiped quickly, knocking the gun away from him, his body rising at the same time, moving forward. His right hand wrapped around her throat, his elbow planting against her sternum as he lifted her from the ground, driving her tiny form back, back, back into the wall of the hallway. A panicked Ginny screaming for Keirra on the other end of the phone as it clattered to the floor. Jameson stared into her eyes, his head tilting to the right slowly, his face inches from her's. irra choked out, the phone falling from her hand to grab around his wrist. Her knee came up almost immediately as the gun went off, a bullet sinking into the wall. Her knee slammed into his ribs, but he put her into the wall again, cracking the drywall, before dropping her in a heap. Keirra fired off another shot into the wall as her vision blurred lightly. Her head sank down to the floor, and she let her eyes fall shut.

He stepped back from her slowly, and straightened himself out. He wiped his mouth and started moving toward the stairwell. "You tell him I said hello."

"C'mon, Star....Do your business..." Keirra said, idly tapping away on her phone just outside of camp. The leash was held loosely in her left hand, her phone in the other. She wore her traditional black t-shirt, and hooded jacket, with skinny jeans tucked away inside of her boots. Hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail as dark bangs brushed her forehead. Star was extremely apprehensive, every now a whine escaping her as she looked around. It might appear to be something innocuous, but she could sense they were not alone. Eyebrows furrowed at Starscream, and she tilted her head. "Hey, what?sa matter Starscream' Are you cold"....I'm not getting you doggie boots..." she said with a smirk as she pictured their little pup walking around in boots. "Okay, that would be pretty cool, but it's not happening." She started growling then, her hair standing on end. The voice came from behind her, that low growl of a voice that she could never forget. "Nice dog. Probably woulda been smarter to walk her closer to your little camp."

Keirra froze at the sound of his voice, eyes blaring ahead. "Starscream..." the rogue said with a hard look, dropping the leash. "Go home," was commanded in perfect Russian, in hopes to keep her dog out of harm's way. "...Stalking now" That's just pathetic..."

Star snarled at the Jameson, his gun trained on Keirra. "Stalking" No. This is something else." Those cold eyes watched the dog slowly start to circle. "You better put this mutt in her place before I do." Not having bothered turning around, she looked at the dog. "You touch my dog, I'll cut off your beaver basher before you ever get the chance to use it, you psychotic ****.." Keirra hissed. "Starscream! Go home, now!"

The dog looked to her confused and barked at Jameson before taking off toward the campground. Jameson smirked. "Good girl. Hands behind your back."

"We getting kinky?" she asked with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not that kind of girl, Jameson.." Keirra spat, but slowly put her hands behind her butt.

"Somehow I doubt that." He grabbed her wrist and she felt a metal cuff go around it, clicking shut.

"You kidding me right now?" Keirra asked through her teeth. "You know I pick locks for a living. I'll be out of this and running before you can say Ophelia Cox..."

"A bullet travels 2,500 feet per second. Think you can beat that?"

"I'm willing to take my chances." Keirra spat, her little wrist already trying to get through the cuff even as he cuffed the other.

He clasped the other wrist. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I'm not afraid of you...If you wanted me dead, you'd have killed me."

"I'd rather not kill you. You got spunk. But your usefulness to me is coming to a close. Do not push me. Because I will not hesitate to take you and that little bastard from him in one shot." He grabbed her by the bicep, moving up close behind her, ready to get her moving.

"Yeah, well...I'm not really useful in general, but here's the thing....I'd rather die than have you use me to kill him. So you can get ***ed!" Keirra spat, and just as she finished that last word, her head impacted hard against his face, a small, satisfying crack as she nailed him in the nose, blood blossoming out, sending him stumbling back.

"Agh! You little ****!" He brought the gun back and brought the butt down against the back of her head. Eyes widened as the gun struck her, she immediately began to hear her ears ringing in her head. Her rhythmic heartbeat interrupted the chime as it pounded away in her chest. She took in a few breaths, feet fumbling to make up for the lack of balance she was now experiencing. Then her knees were buckling.

He scooped her up into his arms as she crumbled and threw her over his shoulder, blood pouring down his face as he glared ahead. Keirra's head lifted up as she looked back at the campground, her eyes watering lightly. It wasn't long before she completely limpened, losing all grasp of consciousness for the moment.

Darkness. That was her entire world. And then...ice cold water hit her, splashing her entire body. Setting every nerve ending on fire. Her arms and legs were strapped down tightly to a chair

Crystal blue eyes snapped open, and a sharp cry was uttered. It took her vision a moment to restore itself, and she immediately began struggling with the bonds. Dark bangs clung to her forehead, and her clothes to her body as the water soaked in. Jameson threw his bucket aside, his nose bandaged, the bruise spread across his face. spots of blood on his white button up shirt. He moved around her slowly.

"Evening."

Okay. Okay where was she" It smelled vaguely of salt water...fish...and smoke. The room creaked gently around them and not entirely still. There was a slight shift to the place...it could only be a ship. Those eyes rolled around in the thinned out slits that she allowed the light to filter through. "Nice face," she spat. Her nose sniffed at the air, and she looked around.

He gave a small laugh approaching her, those eyes rimmed with evidence of her attack staring down at her. "Yeah?"

Suddenly the back of his left hand lashed out and open hand cracked her across the face.

"You got a real f***in' mouth on ya, don't ya, kid?"

A sharp featured face jolted in the direction that he slapped it in, she immediately felt the heat building within her cheek. That eye sticking shut in pain. "Oh, wow..." she mumbled weakly. "We got a real detective here. How long did it take you to figure that out?"

"Yeah. Real tough. You ain't afraid of nothin' are ya" Bet that little bruise won't be around longer than an hour, will it?"

"You got a secret, don't you? Yeah. I bet I could put a bullet between your eyes and you'd bounce right on back."

Looking up at him with cold eyes, she rolled her lip around in her teeth. "Suck a dick, Jameson. I'm not afraid of you because you're nothing more than a cliche bully with mommy and daddy issues." She spat, "Seriously' Tied to a chair" How ****ing original!"

Jameson turned to her slowly, eyes predatory, his voice a low growl, "When I've killed him, I'm going back to that camp. And I'm gonna take your little dog...and I'm gonna bring that little mongrel here. Then I'm going to let you watch me beat it to death with a bat. Then I'm going to set this ship out to sea so you...your boyfriend, and your little puppy can spend the rest of your life rotting together." He stared her right in the eye. He meant every word of it.

The rogue stared right back, she thought of a response, but for once, she was at a loss of words. Opening her mouth to speak, and then closing it thoughtfully. Then she was spitting right in his face.

Recoiled a moment, then wiped her saliva from his face, flinging it to the wooden floor. With a smirk, he turned and walked away. He knew he'd gotten to her. And that was victory enough.

Gerry showed up alone. When he caught a glimpse of the ship docked in 93, his heart dropped. It was the ship he'd arrived to Rhydin on. She was older, battered, and looked heavily patched up. It had been a long time since he'd seen her. Never thought he would again. Gerry started up the gangway, slowly making his way up onto the deck. Keirra's chair had been moved, sitting out in the windy night. Gerry's heart dropped seeing her there. That was an obvious trap...so, time to look for the one setting it.

"JAMESON! I know you're here!"

Keirra's eyes shifted, and then lowered, pretending as if she didn't see him as she continued to struggle with her bonds. The wind blew her hair every which way, as she wiggled to free her hands, clawing at the chair and grunting loudly.

Footsteps came from the helm over Keirra. Jameson leaned over them, his sleeves rolled up, battered face smirking down at him. "Gerard Finnegan. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Keirra's nose crinkled as she struggled, her shoulders bucked against the chair, and her body continued to struggle and pull. Her legs kicked, and the chair scooted lightly on the floor.

Gerry stared up at him. "I should be. You should be dead."

Jameson let out a small, bitter laugh. "You left me to die. You and every rotten bastard on this ship. But I found 'em Finnegan. Tooms. Calloway. I found 'em all. I cut a bloody path to get to you."

Finally, Keirra abandoned her struggle, mainly because she'd almost tipped the chair with her flailing. Her head hung lightly, her face was slightly bruised from Jameson's earlier backhand. Which told the world one thing, she wasn't healing.

"It wasn't the way I wanted it to go down, Jameson." Gerry looked up to him as he walked down the steps. "I didn't want them to leave you."

"But they did. And you didn't lift a finger to stop 'em, did ya?"

"I was a child! You lost a fight and that sick son of a bitch threw you overboard! That's what happened!"

Jameson glared "You ALL left me to die! Do you know what it was like"! I was a kid! Do you know what I've done"! Do you know what I had to do to survive"!"

Gerry stepped toward him, placing himself between Jameson and Keirra. "You picked a fight and lost. Take responsibility for yourself you ***ing coward!"

That's what I said! Keirra thought to herself, but kept her mouth shut when it came to that. "Gerry, get out of here.." Keirra whispered weakly, her eyes watering lightly. It wasn't that she thought that he would lose, it's that Jameson's words were ringing in her ears.

Jameson narrowed his eyes and lunged, grabbing ahold of Gerry as he looked to Keirra, the older man's forearm slamming into his chest. Gerry stumbled backwards against the railing. Gerry grabbed him by the shoulders trying to push him back, but Jameson started throwing punches to his stomach. Gerry yelped and cocked back his fist. The punch that was thrown would have decimated a lesser man. Jameson took it full on the jaw, stumbling back in the follow through.

Keirra's eyes widened, and then squeezed shut. "Stop it!" she screamed, bouncing the chair again in her struggle. "Stop fighting!" she pleaded, and bit into her lip. The chair scooted about six inches to the right, and she was loosening herself up.

The two men threw each other around, throwing full-bodied punches, knocking eachother into some of the cargo on the deck. Gerry rushed at him but caught a boot to the chest. Jameson ran at him as he fell back, tackling him to the ground. His fist slammed into Gerry's face over and over again. Gerry caught the last one and threw a mean jab right into Jameson's broken nose, drawing a loud scream from the man as he fell to one side.

Staring at the two with wide eyes, Keirra watched Jameson pound her husband's face. "Jameson! Please stop!" it was weird to see the woman humble, even weirder to hear her say please. Then Gerry hit him in the broken nose and she winced, that had to hurt.

Gerry was just unavailable, in survival mode. He grabbed a heavy chain and swung it down at Jameson's face. He moved at the last possible second, the impact of the chain sending splinters flying.

Tears fell from Keirra's eyes as she watched the two fight in what surely would be a fight to the death. She let out a soft whimper and looked down at her hands. "Damn it..." she mumbled softly, rubbing her wrists raw to escape.

Jameson scrambled toward a barrel, crawling quickly. Gerry was hot on his heels, reaching to grab him from behind. Jameson's hand wrapped around a club and he suddenly whipped around. The club hit gerry on the temple and put him on the deck.

Again, she winced, feeling helpless as ever. "Damn these ropes!" she hissed, still wiggling and bucking her hips in struggle.

His head screamed and his vision blurred. Jameson stood slowly, his face a mask of red. He walked over to Gerry as he tried to get up and swiped the club up, catching Gerry in the jaw. Down he went again. But damned if he couldn't take a beating. He tried to get back up, but the club slammed against his back.

Jameson glared down at him, panting. "Not so easy this time, was it' Yeah. Big, tough Gerard Finnegan. I expected better."

"Stop it!" Keirra cried, out, she twisted and turned in the seat. Her head ached, and her body was sore...Her face was still hot where he struck her.

Jameson knelt down and looked up at Keirra, slipping the club against Gerry's throat. "Look at her! LOOK AT HER! I WANT HER TO SEE YOU DIE!"

Gerry's eyes stared into Keirra's as he struggled.

The girl looked pathetic, eyes watery, hair all a mess. They'd ***ing lost...."Please..." she whispered softly, eyes glancing up to Jameson's, before looking at Gerry.

He grit his teeth and with all his might, threw his head back into Jameson's nose. Jameson reeled back as Gerry gasped, grabbing the club, and swinging it backward's into Jameson's jaw.

Gerry rolled over and grabbed for his pistol...but spotted it on the other side of the deck. Jameson stared down at him and reached behind his lowerback and pulled his own, aiming it at Gerry. Gerry shut his eyes and heard the shot.