Rin decided she just would have to go back to basics and keep it simple. Matches and a knife would do. Men were so easy to question; all their nerves were in one place. First things first, though.
The man awoke to a musty smell, and it took him a moment to realize he was dripping wet. An empty coffee pot sat on the kitchen counter. Rin was surprised this actually worked outside of movies. She figured she would have to rely on asphyxiation or pain to do the trick, and was tempted to clock him over the head just to see if it worked a second time. Maybe later.
No doubt the police had been called already, so there was no reason to gag the man. Rin began removing his trousers before realizing her mistake. He was drenched in coffee. It would be challenging to burn his balls while he was wet. She supposed she could try holding a lit match under them anyway. The coffee would boil off quickly enough. But that felt like a chore. Everything had gotten messy, and Rin's enthusiasm began to wane. This really wasn't her day, and she wondered whether she was losing it. She sighed. Of course not. She couldn't lose anything. That was the whole point.
With time growing short, Rin faced a difficult choice. A knife would work well but may take too long, especially since the man seemed well-trained. He probably wouldn't blurt out everything he knew at the mere sight of a blade. If she rushed, he almost certainly would die before she learned anything useful.
Rin decided that torture would have to wait. The smart thing would be to move him. Now that he was awake, it wouldn't be as difficult to do so. But she would need his cooperation. That meant she had to play nice. If she was persuasive enough, maybe she even could find out what she wanted the easy way. The easy but much more boring way, she sighed. Then again, there always was afterward. She could torture him to her heart's content or kill him or leave him for the cops. Rin lit a cigarette and took a puff. Then she smiled and placed it in the man's mouth. He spat it out in disgust.
"Don't you know those things will kill you?"
Really? Were his first words really going to be a cliche? Still, his voice was deep and confident. Even now, he wasn't scared. Rin quickly distanced herself. Did he know something she didn't? It had been so long since she experienced physical fear that she had forgotten the sensation. It felt good, but she was ashamed of herself. Was this why mortals were such cowards? Would she have been one too? Rin laughed and suddenly wasn't annoyed anymore. She calmly walked over and untied the man, warning him not to do anything stupid. Did he understand? Yes, he understood.
"I'd offer you a seat but, well, it's your fault I don't have one," Rin began. "Besides, I'm the woman, so you'd be a jerk to leave me standing anyway."
Exhibiting a politeness incongruous with his earlier actions, the man smiled. "My apologies."
With some effort, he rose to offer her his seat on the bed. It was an absurd gesture because the bed easily could accommodate them both, and it was obvious that he would have an easy avenue of escape if Rin accepted. Given his condition, she doubted he would make it far or that was his plan. She took it as a well-intended courtesy and smiled back.
"Why don't you begin by telling me what this is about." Rin waved at the damaged room. She lit another cigarette.
With a wince of pain, the man plopped back onto the bed. Rin sat next to him. He still appeared to be a bit dazed.
"Never mind me, you know you probably killed a sleeping baby downstairs," she admonished while he caught his breath.
The man looked horrified.
"Well, you probably did everybody a favor. The mom's screams weren't nearly as loud as the brat's."
This didn't seem to help. Rin shrugged. If understanding people was critical to her mission, she would have to try to understand people. On the other hand, if she still didn't after this many years, what hope was there? She wondered if she had it backward. Even if she didn't change, people would. Maybe she just needed to wait long enough. Eventually, they would come to fit her understanding. She probably could move the process along ...
The man said, "I'm truly sorry."
"For what? Some baby? I'll let you in on a secret --- that baby would have died anyway."
The man raised an eyebrow.
"Eventually," Rin added.
She adopted a more serious tone. "What's your name, young man."
"I'm older than you," he objected.
"What's your name, old man?" Rin took a deep drag on her cigarette and blew it in his face, gleefully conscious of the man's revulsion.
"You don't recognize me?" He seemed surprised, but Rin was relieved. It was some personal vendetta. That meant Vivvett remained blissfully unaware of her pursuit.
She regarded him with disdain. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that memorable."
This actually wasn't true. Despite his bruises, the man was stunningly handsome. Rin was pretty sure she would have remembered him, and wondered whether he had mistaken her for somebody else. Of course, everybody mistook her for somebody else. Which made this all the more surprising.
If he was looking for Rin, how had he found her? And why didn't she remember him? People often imagined themselves grander than they were, which to Rin was not at all. She was sure she would have recalled the man if they had met in any meaningful capacity.
More likely, he tangentially had encountered her in some way which changed his life, and assumed that this significance was reciprocal. It never was. It couldn't be. How could there be reciprocity between the permanent and ephemeral? But Rin was not offended by such impertinence. It was flattering in a pathetic sort of way.
The man didn't respond, apparently still shocked that he hadn't proved a more defining presence in her life.
"Let me guess ..." Rin took another puff. "I killed somebody you liked. Maybe your dad or your wife or your third-cousin-once-removed."
She gave him a dry look. "Do you know how many people want to kill me?"
"No," he replied uncertainly.
"It was rhetorical," Rin snapped.
"Rhetoral?" he asked. Rin felt like she was talking to a child. At least that explained the accent.
"English isn't your first language is it? What do you speak?" Rin demanded, as if she were prepared to bandy wits in any tongue he should propose. He answered, but it wasn't a language she was conversant in.
"We'll stick to English," she replied.
The country he named rang a bell, though, and it took a few moments to remember her past connection with it.
"Oh, yeah, Karkov," she muttered to herself.
"Karkov? Who is that?" the man asked.
"He was the target ...," Rin began before stopping herself. "Never mind that. Who are you?"
The man identified himself as something which sounded like Darryeel.
"Ok Daryl, what has this got to do with me? And hurry up, we're short on time." Rin tapped her watch for emphasis.
"It's Darrouil," the man began to object, but Rin backhanded him hard across the face.
"It's Daryl, because I goddamn say it's Daryl. Now what does this have to do with me?"
Rin saw a glint in the man's eyes. It wasn't a cruel glint, just one of anger or maybe defiance. No, that wasn't it. There was something else in there. Ah yes, she thought, there was something else. She remembered him now. It must be the same one.
"You're that kid I left alive."
Daryl nodded gravely.
Rin leaned in and smiled sweetly. "I did more than that, didn't I?"
Again, Daryl silently nodded.
"Were you upset that I left you alive? Do you wish me to fix that? Is that why you came here?" She absentmindedly picked up and stroked a knife from the kitchen. Then she knelt in front of him and gently caressed his cheek with it, leaning in to whisper, "or did you hope for something more?"
Rin was impressed that the man showed no fear. Did he underestimate her? It struck her as unlikely. Even if he was tied up in the guardhouse through most of her incursion, he surely had seen the carnage afterward. Nobody in their right mind would seek her out. Which meant that he wasn't in his right mind. But then, no man without fear was. Rin decided there were two possibilities: love and hate.
She hadn't been able to tell whether he was traumatized or titillated by their little encounter. It had been fun toying with the boy, and no doubt she left quite an impression on him. But she didn't buy that it had spurred him to a lifelong search for something more, whatever that something may be.
People did do stupid things, and maybe the boy was in love or lust or whatever he imagined it to be. But a guy like this? Rin simply couldn't believe he would have gone far without women throwing themselves at him.
Whatever his boyish infatuation, he soon would have forgotten her. Even if he immediately set out on a quest to find her, quests never go where you want them to. Rin could attest to that better than anyone. Surely, a man like him had no shortage of lovers over the years.
Had he? Maybe she left him unable. Maybe he imagined she was the only one who could satisfy him. On the other hand, would a love-sick puppy unload two magazines into the woman of his dreams?
She stood briskly. "You knew that this," she pointed at the gun, "couldn't kill me. Yet you tried."
Daryl nodded. "I had to make sure it was you."
"You mean you don't remember?" Rin teased as she straddled him. She didn't do this just to fluster Daryl. The police were at most ten minutes away, and she would have to shield him should they arrive prematurely and attack without warning. She wouldn't risk losing him, not after fate had relieved her boredom. Rin's day definitely was looking up.
Ignoring the provocation, Daryl answered succinctly. "They said you were a witch. Witches can change appearance."
Rin couldn't argue with that. She never had met one, but if there were witches they probably could. Wasn't that a theorem of logic? From one false premise anything can be proved. She marveled that Daryl had come to the right conclusion for completely ridiculous reasons. Well, almost the right conclusion, but she wasn't going to correct his misconception.
And were those reasons truly ridiculous? They were the reasons he had given, not necessarily the ones he had been given. Or maybe he really didn't know. That was more likely. There was no way he could have found her on his own. Nobody was that clever, were they? It didn't worry Rin that she could be found, but it did embarrass her. Was she that obvious? There wasn't much point to being unrecognizable if she clumsily declared herself in other ways. But something else bothered her more.
Forgetting her concern for Daryl's safety, Rin stood and paced around the room. "Yet, even knowing all this, you still came here to kill me."
Daryl nodded. Suddenly, Rin was sad. She didn't resent him for trying, but she couldn't abide an idiot. The police would be there soon, and it wouldn't be worth dragging a nitwit all over in the vain hope he may prove informative. She already had what she wanted. This had nothing to do with Vivvett. Leaving him for the police would be foolish and cruel. Best to end it now. Rin grabbed her knife and strode toward him.
"But not yet," he explained.
Intrigued, Rin paused and fondled the knife. "Go on."
"I know I cannot kill you easily, but maybe I can find a way if I study you."
Well, that was novel. She had to admit the guy had balls. Rin laughed, and stuck her face in front of his. "Got a close enough look, boy? Good. Now go the hell home."
Daryl shook his head, and Rin jiggled the knife meaningfully.
"I have to find a way to kill you," he insisted.
"Men were so easy to question; all their nerves were in one place." Nice. :)
Really like the dialogue in this section; also glad the young soldier is back. He seems to be the only worthy adversary for Rin.
Questions are increasing... When and how she became so? What she feels exactly phisycally I mean when she is hit with bullets or tanks round?