Well here I go again, hopefully I can get some feedback on this story so I can apply that advice and criticism to my other story which seems immune to reviews.

The basic idea was to see what would happen if the Lagoon Co. met some kind of version of their west side alter egos.

I don't own Black Lagoon, but that would be sweet.

Engage

Thailand's blazing midday sun flashed against a brilliant white BMW as it slid onto a busy downtown street. The clean and well kept M5 sported barrage of freshly made bullet holes, courtesy of the vehicle's pursuers three S-Class Mercedes. The BMW's driver huffed as he shifted gears and pulled the E-Brake drifting the vehicle through a right hand turn, skillfully dodging traffic as the machine glided into the oncoming lane. Attempting to keep chase the Mercedes drivers followed, the forward most car colliding with a truck and bursting into flames upon impact. Spanish expletives were shouted as remaining two Mercedes maneuvered around their fallen comrade.

"Hey, I think one of 'em just bit it." said the person sitting the M5's front passenger seat. The driver quickly peered into the rearview mirror to confirm the update.

"Thank god. It's about-" "Take the next left." the passenger demanded before the driver could voice his relief.

"Damnit!" The M5 driver tapped the clutch and gave the emergency brake a brisk tug causing the machine to drift wide into the sharp left turn. The sound of the rear bumper lightly scrapping the curb was drown out by the sound of bullets connecting with the back of the car.

"Jesus Christ! You gotta tell me that stuff sooner." the driver complained, trying to once again widen the gap between him and their pursuers.

"You know this probably won't be so bad if somebody were shooting back." the passenger emphasized the statement by swiveling around in the seat and glaring at their third compatriot. The passenger occupying the back seat of the sedan only glared back from beneath their sunglasses, answering the suggestion with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"'Nothin' stopping you from doing that..." the driver muttered under his breath.

"I heard that." the passenger snapped, "But it looks like I'm goin' have to since Marty doesn't wanna get that pale ass in gear."

From the back of the BMW, Marty gave a loud grunt of disapproval then extracted two red LAR Grizzlies from their shoulder holsters. The front passenger did the same removing a PPC style revolver from a thigh holster.

"Crap." the driver blurted out at the sight in his rearview mirror.

"What? What is it?" the front passenger asked, cocking back the hammer on the revolver.

"Here we go!" yelled the M5 driver immediately before making an abrupt right turn. The rear tires squealed as they etched a path of spent rubber on the ground, the second Mercedes tried to follow suit but its traction control robbed it of precious over steer. The German automobile flipped over the curb and slid upside down into brick building. Bullets peppered the surrounding area as the last Mercedes passengers sprayed their Uzis, another hard turn left by the BMW would have been optimal for the pursuing Columbians had it not been into oncoming traffic. The remaining Mercedes driver swerved onto the sidewalk to avoid a fatal collision and instead ended their pursuit by running into a fire hydrant. Pedestrians cheered as a geyser of water erupted from city street, children and adults alike danced in the water as they escaped the sweltering heat of the afternoon.

Unfortunately the occupants of the white Beemer were far from paradise. The fall of the last Mercedes revealed red Audi Quattro and white Porsche 944 closing the distance on the BMW. The passenger of the Audi shouted more Spanish expletives before sticking an AK-47 out the window. The BMW driver made another evasive left turn, entering the street with an aggressive power slide. But unlike the Mercedes pilots of late, the Audi and Porsche drivers traced the M5's line with the utmost precision.

"Oh shit, those guys can drive." the front passenger of the BMW commented.

"Yeah, I know." the M5 driver complained, "But I think I got a plan."

"Well yo-" the passenger's command was cut short as a volley of assault rifle rounds tore through the back window. Time seemed to slow down as sound and light were muffled.

"Marty? Po? You guys okay?" the driver asked, still in a bit of a daze. Marty gave a thumbs up from a semi-prone position on the back seat, Po only nodded.

"Your plan?" Po asked anxiously, "Oh, um...let's see." the driver said hesitantly.

"Really?" Po said with glare of dissatisfaction

"I got it, it got it. I know this will work." the driver tried to respond reassuringly.

"It has to work Carson, driving is you thing, not ours." Po said while looking at the revolver, preparing it for combat.

"Uh, thanks, I think." Carson replied unsure of the statement. "Marty, underneath the seat to your right I think there some grenades."

As Marty dug underneath the seat, Po swiveled around and began firing at their assailants.

"Found 'em" Marty said quickly. Below the seat was a little under a dozen cylindrical explosives labeled with different colored tape.

"Grab all the yellow ones." Carson grunted while shifting gears and sliding the car through a fast right turn.

"Carson! If your gonna do something, do it now!" Po barked still firing at the now tailgating cars.

"Hold on!" the M5 driver yelled back, "I hav'ta-, oh shit, here we go! Marty! Toss 'em high!"

Marty pulled the pins and sent three grenades sailing toward the Audi. For a second there was nothing, the next, a second sun was born.

Three flash grenades detonated in front of the red vehicle blinding and deafening both the driver and passenger. The driver instantly lost control; the car ran up the median and rolled twice before colliding with another car. The Porsche seemed unfazed by the fatal accident behind him, but was taken aback by the sight that greeted him. The driver blinked his eyes and looked again; he was looking at the BMW, the front of the BMW. The rest of the scene looked as if it were from a movie. An extremely pale but very shapely woman armed with two 10 inch LAR Grizzlies protruded from the M5's sunroof. Another woman who was blindly beautiful but of unrecognizable decent leaned out the passenger side window aiming a large Dan Wesson Revolver on par with the Grizzle gunner. The M5's driver, a young and clearly athletic African American male only offered his middle finger to the Porsche's occupants; while periodically looking backward to adjust his driving. Since the Beemer was indeed moving in reverse at somewhere past 60 miles per hour.

"Marty! Light 'em up!" yelled the revolver toting gunwoman. With the pale gunwoman's arms gaining full range of motion from being outside the car, she accurately placed multiple .50 caliber rounds into the driver and passenger of the Porsche. Po gave a dark laugh as her last round hit its mark. The trio watched as the bullet damage from the revolver locked the front left tire of the Porsche causing it to flip and roll to a stop.

"Hell yeah! I told you that would work!" Carson yelled with glee.

"Yeah not bad, not bad at all." said Po as she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "But just remember Carson, this is still my car."

"Fuck" said Carson under his breath

The Lagoon Company city side office was deadly quiet as it's only two residents lay slumped over the furniture rendered immobile by the heat. The last working source of entertainment, the radio, had long since been shot by Revy. In all fairness, it had been a slow week, no one to shoot at, it didn't help that business had been slow as well. The radio had just broadcast one weather report too many.

"Rock...throw me a beer." Revy demanded slowly.

"The fridge to broken Revy, are you-"

"Beer. NOW" she growled

"Fine." Rock said as he got up and walked toward the kitchen. He couldn't blame her, it was way too hot to do anything.

Unknown to Rock she was doing something, listening. While shooting the radio was a rash decision, she could now clearly hear the gun shots that echoed outside. She was certain the shots were getting closer, only for the sound to retreat again. She tensed up again when she heard the familiar shots followed by the pitch of a new gun being fired. Back and forth she threw together new ideas and speculation of the fire fight going on outside. The interval of the gun fire was moving too fast for the shooters to be on foot. Plus the majority of the fire had been one sided suggesting a car chase of some sort. What bothered Revy was the distinctive clap of a flash bang grenade exploding, an explosion that occurred much to close the office for comfort.

Revy tapped her Cutlass; perhaps the approaching gun fire would finally bring the fight she'd been craving for days now.

"Here, Revy." Rock tossed the warm beer to his partner to which she turned and caught.

She opened it with one hand and took a slip, "FUCK!"

"I told you." Rock said.

"Shut up." she spat, but Revy's retort was cut short when a sound from the office entrance was heard. Rock tensed, while Revy instinctively placed a hand around her 92F.

"Shit, feels like death in here." said a dark, muscular man sporting his trademark sunglasses.

Dutch walked in wearing only his boots and combat pants, "I can see you guys moved pretty far." commented.

"Save it Dutch, are you gonna fix the fucking AC or what?" Revy asked impatiently

"In time, Two Hands, just-" Dutch walked further into the room and took a closer look a the radio, "Fuck Revy, you shot my radio?"

"Uh, no?"

"Rhetorical question, that's coming out of your pocket, just so you know."

"Whatever Dutch, just fix the god damn air conditioning."

Dutch only shook his head as he headed into the kitchen. He began sifting through the items in the box when a loud screech was heard from outside.

"What the hell was that?" asked Dutch as he quickly stepped out of the kitchen.

"Whoever won that shootout downtown..." Revy replied as a blood thirsty grin made its way across her mouth. "They're probably lost, I'll go give'em some directions." She cocked the hammer on both Cutlasses for emphasis and headed toward the office entrance.

Rock got of his seat to go stop her, "Revy, wait! You dont-"

"Shut up Rocky baby," she snarled, "I'm just gonna go say hi, so stay there."

Rock hesitated at the ferocity in Revy's eyes, she was looking for an excuse to shoot anything at this point.

"Good boy." she purred the darkest voice imaginable.

The speedometer of the white BMW M5 danced around 90 as the bullet ridden vehicle flew down the streets of Roanapur. The driver sighed as he surveyed the damage he would have to repair later.

"Hm, how did bullet holes get on the hood?" he thought aloud.

"You were driving backwards, Carson." Po replied, "I'm not even sure why."

"Okay, first: it was cool." From the back seat, Marty nodded in agreement.

"Second: I wanted to give you and Marty a clear shot without wrecking more of our car."

"And driving in reverse down a busy street achieved that?"

"We got'em didn't we."

Po gave an exaggerated sigh, "Yes, yes we did. Here, Carson make the next right."

Carson slowed down and swung the M5 around the corner with a neat and controlled drift.

"Are we close yet?" Carson asked

"Yeah actually it's right there." Po quickly answered, pointing to a building that was about 35 feet ahead of the car.

"Oh shi-" Carson yanked the E-brake, the tires screeched as the Beemer slide/spun 180 degrees. The car stopped next to the curb, parallel parked perfectly in front of a GTO.

"Crap, what did I tell you about giving me a warning?" Carson complained

"Whoops, I guess it slipped my mind." Po said sarcastically, "Alright children, these people we're about to meet are by no means new to our type of profession. In fact I'd consider them our seniors."

"So that means?" Carson asked nervously.

"They know we're here, but they don't know why we're here. If this city is still the shithole I remember it's better to let the hired gun go first. Marty go knock on the door."

Marty rolled out of the car and dusted herself off before checking to make sure her guns were locked and loaded.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Po demanded as she made a beckoning motion with her pointer finger, indicating for Carson to get of the car.

"Why do I have to go?" Carson whined

"Because you're not an incompetent fighter, and last time I checked your weapons of choice limited you to close quarters anyway."

Carson gave a large sigh of discontent, as he followed Marty to the entrance.

He anxiously watched as Marty knocked on the office door.