Sitting in the very darkest corner of the bustling restaurant with his back to the wall, the rugged Stalker carefully observed the people around him. There were several tall tables set up around the room, and not a single one was left empty. At many places in the room, people stood with their drinks in hand, as the population of the place proved to be more than there were chairs available.
Eating his supper of pork with mushrooms quickly, he glanced at his watch to check the time. He liked to go to different places in between patrols, as there was always something going on and always an opportunity to gather intelligence. Things in the stations, especially those of the Greater The Subway, changed swiftly, and the Stalker had lately been particularly interested in the current state of affairs between the warring bandit clans. From Venice to Kitai-Gorod, there were no less than four different factions of organized criminals who were constantly plotting their next scheme. Although the Stalker had never bothered to involve himself in their plans or strike against them, he had taken up eavesdropping on the lesser bosses as somewhat of a hobby; perhaps also every now and then giving an anonymous tip to a rival clan, just for his own entertainment.
Tonight, there was definitely the pressing sense that something interesting would be happening at any moment, and so he cast his wary gaze at the crowd once more. This is when he spotted it; the building arrangement for a potentially lively display, a private performance for him to revel in. His senses never failed him. Amongst the usual disheveled and scrawny men with shaved heads and embellished pigskin jackets, there was a young woman wandering about the room in a leisurely manner. She wore a long patchwork dress under a dark gray jacket, which upon closer inspection seemed to be refashioned from an old military sweater to fit her slim figure perfectly. Her long reddish brown hair fell around her pale pink face like the picture frame on a masterpiece and although he had at first noticed her for her unusual presence, he was halted by her beauty.
Without question, the loudest table of men was sitting near this girl; they had been laughing and drinking heartily even before the Stalker had entered the establishment. From their outward appearance he could identify that they were members of the leading party of this station, and obviously enjoyed their free time without interference. Two of the men seemed to be boasting about some recent conquest, although he hadn’t heard what their gains entailed. The others at the table praised and goaded them on, giving a noisy toast and slamming their mugs together.
This was the setup that would prove eventful. The Stalker quickly downed the rest of his tea in anticipation, not wanting to miss a moment once it had begun.
“Ey krasotka, why don’t you come over here and sit with us, huh?” A stout man with a double chin cackled lustily to the girl, slapping his knee as if to invite her to sit on it and taking a swig of brew that then dripped from the corners of his mouth and into his beard.
“Do I look like a common whore to you?” The girl spoke in a crystal voice and sported a fierce glare, standing up straight and squaring her shoulders as if preparing for a fight.
“Not common, no! Definitely easier on the eyes than those career girls in Madrid.” The man guffawed again, his buddies joining him and slamming their mugs together in another toast. “But every one of you females has a price.”
The stout man narrowed his eyes and his smile faded, he seemed to be staring her down, like a challenge. The Stalker was watching carefully for the girl’s reaction, finding his grip had tightened on the edge of the plywood table. For a moment, he thought the girl might strike, or possibly even cry and run off to her tent to get her father or brother to settle the score. But she remained firmly rooted in place, her expression softened a bit and she took a step forward so the stout man could hear her as she began to speak again in a low voice.
“Alright then, we can make a deal.” She showed a mischievous smile.
The Stalker was surprised by her statement but for the wrong reasons, he was sure that he had sensed something different about her, yet she had given in so easily. He sighed, sinking back against the wall and folding his hands together to rest his head against.
“Haha! I told you!” He toasted with his buddies once more. “Ten bullets? Twenty?”
“Your life.” She spoke flatly, narrowing her eyes.
The Stalker perked his head up sharply and didn’t take his eyes off her again, completely bewildered by her response.
“What the fuck kind of deal is that?” The stout man immediately flew into a rage, not wanting to be made a fool of.
“You heard me. I will go in that room over there with you, for whatever you like… but afterwards, I get to slit your fat throat.” She spoke with distaste, nearly spitting as she laid out her terms.
The Stalker couldn’t believe his ears. Was she simply toying with the man? Or did she truly have a blood lusting price for her services? Who would ever take her up on such an offer? Surely she wasn’t serious. This girl didn’t look like the sort who would sell themselves to any useless scum that turned up at the local bar. No, this one was far too clean and sharp-witted, he thought, but what was her game?
“Just what the fuck are you on about, bitch?” The man slammed his hand on the table, his friends looking angrier by the minute and each was heckling their supposed leader to teach her a lesson.
“Not worth it to you? No matter.” She turned to walk off with a contented smile, waving the man away with her hand.
“Hold on a minute!” The man yelled angrily, standing up abruptly and reaching inside his jacket, assumedly for a weapon.
The Stalker flinched, getting to his feet instantly and reaching for his Stechkin. But there was no chance for him to intervene, as the girl proved to be more agile than anyone could have guessed. Just as the stout man with the beard was pulling out his gun, she slid one foot backwards and turned her body around, closing the distance between them and twisting his arm outwards with one hand. The swift but powerful motion forced him to release the grip on his pistol and she managed to catch it with her free hand and point it back at him with perfect form in a matter of seconds.
“Change your mind already?” She said in a sing-song voice, giving an unsettling smile as she clicked off the safety.
“Uhh, uhh! Fuck!” The fat bandit murmured as his friends swiftly abandoned him at the table. “Let’s get out of here!” He yelled as he wriggled his wrist from her grip and turned to run after his companions, stumbling over another group of people at an adjacent table as the alcohol had stolen away his balance. Knocking over a chair on his way out of the enclosure, silence prevailed in the small place for several minutes. The other patrons in the bar weren’t sure if they should applaud the girl or go running off in the same manner. Each inhabitant eyed this nimble girl warily, trying to judge her temperament as she looked over her prize with pride.
The Stalker was completely astounded, sinking back into his chair for one bewildered moment and examining her movements as she strolled away without a care, carrying her new weapon carefully with both hands and ejecting the clip to count the ammunition left inside. He replayed the event in his mind, and only now was asking himself why he’d been ready to come to her rescue at all. After a few seconds in awed silence, he quickly gathered his knapsack and helmet and went after her into the station.