Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Hymn for Cowboys Led Astray ❯ Crash and Burn ( Chapter 9 )

A/N: Here's chapter nine: where stuff goes down. As always, this is my not-particularly canon interpretation of How Stuff Happened, so my apologies if this particular narrative doesn't exactly seem like it follows the timeline. Hopefully I'll get this story over and done with by the end of the month...probably about two more chapters planned and in pre-production as of now, but this may change.

 

Chapter 9: Crash and Burn

 

Life in a large crime syndicate is never pretty. Sure the pay was good, but risking life and limb at the constant whim of the Elders was hardly worth it. The men and handful of women under their beck and call constantly lived as if every breath of air could and would be their last. For some, this was true. Within the first few months after Mao took me under his wing, several younger operatives had come and gone - put on goodwill transfer to our ally syndicates, Mao explained. I always complained that I was young, not stupid. He always answered this reply with a soft smile, which was my unspoken reprimand.

Now I understand that he was simply trying to protect me against one of the harsher realities of our lives, but at the time I had wished in not so many words that he would stop treating me like a kid. Death was not easy. Surviving the death of a comrade was not something anyone talked about. People who had been partners for years sometimes snapped, earning them whatever injuries the Elders' bodyguards decided to inflict on them as the survivor tried to take out their rage and hurt on the wrinkled old creatures who had ordered their partner - their friend - into death.

Gradually I was eased into this life of violence and death to the point where I learned to depend on no one but myself, because there was no guarantee anyone would be alive to stand with me at the end. Maybe I thought my dedication to Mao and my new life was enough to keep me safe...I was an idiot.

My blackout after the White Dragon shootout had lasted longer than my memory ran. When I woke up at the hospital that morning over two months earlier, Mao had filled me in on the fact that the loss of my eye hadn't stopped me from shooting my way out, and stumbling all the way to Julia's apartment before collapsing on her doorstep. Even now, I can't remember how I knew my way to her place. Somehow I got there that day, trusting my feet to lead me.

It was mid-March when I first died, still slightly cold, but warm enough to manage a cold drizzle rather than the shriveled snowflakes that characterized the dry Martian atmosphere. Since the first day I had admitted to Julia that I loved her, plans had been forming in my mind for our escape. A two-person transport off-world, maybe Venus. Earth was still too dangerous with the hourly meteorite showers. I wanted to be dead in the eyes of the Syndicate, not for real. There was still someone to live for.

Everything had been arranged. Our ship was set to leave in three hours. The tickets for a Mr. and Mrs. Luke Smith were booked, and a duffel of the few irreplaceable objects I owned sat near the door of my apartment, ready to go when I stopped by on my way to the graveyard.

God, these memories hurt sometimes. I could really go for a cigarette right now, but one of those wonderful cancer sticks in the Swordfish's cockpit probably would be the best way to burn up my oxygen and leave me a floating corpse before I've had the chance to land and face my old life.

The last job was supposed to be a small one. Lin and Shin were smart kids - they knew something was up by the way my fingers twitched over the holster of my new gun. Its unfamiliar weight was nonetheless a comfort against my palm as I reached inside my coat for a new cigarette. The Glock was gone, pawned for the transport tickets. My new weapon was a Jericho, the stylish equivalent of Vicious' sword, which he continued to thumb in and out of its sheath as he leaned against the wall across from me.

I took a long drag from the cigarette, hoping the damp paper would continue to burn as it threw my former best friend's angular face into pale view against the early evening rain. This waiting thing sucked. Behind me, I heard Shin give a soft sigh, and turned to give him one of my dazzling grins. The poor kid was dripping water from the tip of his nose all the way to the edges of his trench coat. He looked up as I snorted, offering me a small smile before resuming an apparently fascinating examination of his soaked shoes. His brother, positioned behind Vicious, shot us both a look as if we were two misbehaving children. I rolled my eyes at him, earning a frown. There was a soft shuffle outside the mouth of our alley. The target was finally on the move, and I was relieved to get away from my disgusting spot. In a flash I dumped my cigarette and slid the Jericho out of its holster, years of training guiding it to my hands as I focused on the five shadowy figures moving towards the edge of the pier.

The Red Dragon's latest target was this shrimp of a man surrounded by four beefy bodyguards. They made it about fifteen seconds away from their ship before Vicious used that creepy speed of his to take out two of the men with a few slashes before anyone was the wiser. He ducked out of the way as the survivors turned and began to fire, which was my cue.

I never felt bad for killing. It was what I was paid to do, and I justified it by deciding that they probably deserved it anyway. Maybe my near future will have me moving towards some divine being who will finally judge me on these acts, but I really don't care. Just about anything is better than living this life now.

One went down on my first two shots, and I was already calculating how many more bullets I'd have to waste on these assholes before reloading when one of them got a lucky shot through my cover, and there was a heavy grunt behind me. I spared a glance from my hiding place behind a bench to see who had been hit. Lin had fallen to his knees, his gun lying on the ground as the wounded arm trickled blood down the wrist from a hole in the upper bicep. Unlucky kid. Tough chance of me going to help him at this point, but a bullet in the arm wasn't fatal. He would be okay for a few minutes.

I turned my attention back to the action. Although worried for his brother, Shin was aiming for one of the last remaining bodyguards while Vicious crept up behind our target. Now was my chance to get out, and I planned to take it.

My legs almost gave out on me despite the adrenaline pumping through my system as I stood. "Hey, Dumbass." I called. The last of the bodyguards and the target whipped towards me as I raised my hands. "Sorry about your buddy." Behind me, Lin hissed my name. I ignored him and stepped out from behind the bench as the bodyguard raised his gun to the center of my chest. "So what did you do that the Dragons sent out some of their top operatives to take you out?" I let the Jericho hang on one finger, smiling slightly and moving forward as it swayed back and forth. "I'm just curious, you know. Thugs like us don't get to know the why of our jobs, y'know? Makes a guy wonder."

This had to be the stupidest trick in the book, and from his crouch behind the two, Vicious shot me a glare. Behind me, Lin was alternately sucking down air and clutching at his arm, apparently already given me up for dead. Shin was no where to be found, but that wasn't troubling. What might throw this whole plan off was if he or Vicious managed to distract their attention before I got to the edge of the pier. For once in my life, I prayed. Playing the part of the idiot buddy has always been one of my specialties, and I continued to yammer on as I edged around them, closer to the open water. Found out that the target had been some researcher who decided to jump ship when his new designer drug had attracted the Syndicate's attention. Not the brightest bulb, but at this point I didn't really care.

I could tell the last bodyguard had an itchy trigger finger, as even in the rain and fading daylight the only movement he made was to tighten his grip. 'Just watch me.' I thought. 'Just watch and learn, you asshole.' So attentive was he to me that he had failed to remember the silver-haired demon until the blade was against his throat. The man's gun discharged into the street as Vicious made a clean cut, his fingers entwined in the soaking hair as he held up the head and turned it towards the shaking target. "The Red Dragons do not take kindly to people who do not keep their promises." He said, holding the dripping head up next to his own and smiling that enigmatic smile of his. I had to grin. Ever a man of few words, Vicious still knew what to say when he had to. A telltale wet spot blotted out the remaining dry part of the target's otherwise soaking slacks, and he began to blubber.

The situation was breaking down. That bodyguard had been a part of my plans, and now he was a headless body lying on the street. Shit. I glanced over to where Lin lay, now under the careful ministrations of his brother. I stood with my back to the water and watched as the younger tore a strip off his shirt, eased the torn coat off his sibling's shoulder and carefully tied the cloth around the wounded arm.

Vicious continued to speak softly to the man behind me. I was glad for both distractions, as it gave me time to think. The bodyguard was supposed to shoot me, and now said asshole was dead. Inside my head, things were beginning to fall apart. A shuffle behind me, and I whirled to face a worried Shin. "Spike, are you an idiot?"

I managed a shrug. My body felt stiff, and I was already thinking of when I could get home and call Julia before crawling into bed and rethinking this whole thing. "Not as much as that guy." Shin had just opened his mouth to retort when I heard one of those desperate screams, the kind uttered in a good Jet Li film when the villain makes his last run at the hero even as he knows he's going to end up worm food. I felt as if someone had pushed me, and glanced at Shin to see if it had been him as some sort of weird joke. His eyes were wide and mouth agape as if in on some kind of universal joke I had yet to hear...and then the terrific bang I had heard made sense.

My attention went back to Vicious and the target. Funny, the one time in his life Vicious wasn't fast enough with that damn sword was when some random idiot unknowingly helped me to end mine. Never thought he had it in him. Sonofabitch. I had enough time to watch as the target turned the hidden gun towards his own skull, and then I was flying backwards out over the pier. Before I hit the water, there was one final gunshot, and then the water closed in over my head.

 

BANG BANG, HE SHOT ME DOWN...