Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Play Me Some More of that Old Blues ❯ Chapter 18 ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter 18

The light in the cavernous room was muted by the drawn curtains. Behind a large desk, Jet could make out the form of a seated man. With a short nod, the guard behind Jet acknowledged his superior before closing the door behind him. A puff of smoke rose from the chair.

“Have a seat Mr. Black.”

Jet crossed his arms. If it's all the same to you, I'll stand thank you.”

Mr. Caulder sighed as he too rose to his feet. “I certainly wouldn't want to force you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” As he spoke, Caulder stubbed out his cigar in a crystal dish. Rounding the desk, he came to stand near Jet. “As it is, we have a bit of a problem.”

Jet huffed. “Is that a fact.”

Caulder waited for a moment. Then, realizing nothing more would be forthcoming, continued speaking.

“You see Mr. Black, my company has recently experienced a bit of a… loss. A member of my staff betrayed us and stole something that is of great value. Finding this individual is not difficult. Regaining my merchandise intact, however, may prove to be more of a challenge.”

Jet cocked his head. “That's too bad. It doesn't explain, however, why you felt the need to arrest me.”

“As to that, the laws of Pandora should have been explained to you… and as a former member of ISSP, you should have known the regulations anyhow. No one is permitted to walk the streets of Pandora without proper clearance. Why you chose to do so is beyond me.”

Jet flexed his fingers. “I wasn't exactly planning on leaving by… `legal' means. An imbedded chip that can track the movements of its wearer is not exactly a good thing to have when you're trying to elude capture.”

Caulder surprised himself with a quick laugh. “Touché! Though that didn't help you in this case I'm afraid. Unfortunately, the person I'm seeking had the same idea.” Walking back to the giant window, Caulder clasped his hands behind his back. Jet followed. Caulder glanced at him as he walked up. “Why are you here?”

Giving the man a long look, Jet sighed. “Because I lost something valuable to me too, and I was hoping I could find it here. No, not a something, a someone. She's one of the few people in my life that matter, and I've already lost too many friends as it is. You can lock me away for trespassing, but understand that doing so may destroy any chance I have at finding my friend.”

Caulder didn't respond at first, only stood by the window and stared at his own reflection in the soft light. The receiver on his desk gave a muted beep. Half a minute passed before Caulder finally turned to acknowledge the page. Returning to the desk, he pressed down the flashing button.

“Yes.”

A scratchy voice responded. “Sir, we seem to have a situation! We tracked Mathis to the East shipyards. Upon nearing the complex, we suddenly experienced heavy fire. My team and I fell back and are attempting to determine the source before proceeding.”

Caulder set his jaw. “Any sign of Mathis?”

There was a slight pause before the reply came. “Negative, as yet, we have not made visual contact. We are preparing to advance on the structure now.”

“Alert me the second that Mathis is apprehended.”

“Acknowledged sir, Hendricks out.”

Releasing the switch, Caulder sat down at his desk and relit his cigar. Through the rising smoke, he studied Jet.

“You can see what I'm dealing with.”

Jet stared back intently. “And I've explained what I'm dealing with. Frankly, I couldn't give a damn about your problems right now.”

Caulder nodded, holding his cigar between two fingers. “I hope you believe me when I say that I understand. I too have a loved one I'm trying to save.” He turned to the window again. “I just hope it isn't already too late.”

Previously-

“It's not her temperament I'm concerned with, Mr. Mathis, but her regenerative capabilities. How quickly does she heal from an abrasion, a gash, or a deep wound? How much damage can her body endure before it fails completely?”

Mathis didn't give Faye a single glance as he responded.

“I'll show you.”

She tried to move away as Mathis approached, but was inhibited by the metal boots on her feet. When he was within four feet of her, he pulled a pocketknife from his jeans.

“Observe gentlemen.”

With a swift move, he gripped her bound arms with one hand and scored her bare skin with the small blade.

“Ahh! Damn it, bastard!” She cried as he released her. The cut was shallow, and the bleeding didn't last long. Stepping closer, the man dressed as a military officer watched her for any reaction. Pursing his lips in annoyance, he was about to call of the whole deal when he suddenly gasped. The cut was closing. In seconds, no trace of the injury was left.

“My god.” The officer gave Mathis a startled look. “Absolutely amazing!” He rubbed a hand over his bushy mustache. “She seems to have incredible regenerative abilities. Still, I'd like to see a demonstration of something a little more… debilitating.”

Mathis nodded. “Of course.”

Faye looked up from her fascination with her newly discovered talent. Her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and astonishment as Mathis leveled a gun at her chest.

“Let's see just how amazing you really are shall we?”

Faye screamed as the bullet tore into her body, just above the navel. Pain like she'd never felt before grasped her body in an icy grip. She immediately began shivering.

Lying on the floor, she could dimly make out the sound of Mathis's voice as he assured them she'd be just fine. If she wasn't in so much pain, she would've kicked his ass.

It was as she was contemplating various methods of killing him that she first heard what sounded like gunshots. Before she could think about what it meant, men started running everywhere, shouting and ignoring orders. And then it all came crashing down as the world exploded around her.

Spike's gaze was locked on the ship before them. Without looking at Hollis, he lifted his pistol. “New plan. Gun's blazing.”

Darting from behind their cover, he began firing.

Shocked, Hollis sat frozen as Spike leaped out to face the army before him. Saying a quick prayer, the older man prepared to follow… and suddenly realized what Spike was shooting at.

The row of fuel storage tanks exploded in a deafening fireball.

Soldiers scattered as other tanks let go, spilling flames in the air. Ducking to avoid the spraying shrapnel, Hollis franticly looked for any sign of Spike. Finally, through the growing haze, he spotted the slim figure crouching near the hull of the ship the soldiers had been guarding. As soon as it was clear, Spike slipped through the hatch.

Mentally slapping himself from his stupor, Hollis grabbed for the communicator at his belt.

“Sandy! Yeah, Hollis here… no time to chat. Grab your boys and get down to your place ASAP… something big is going on!”

Almost before the words left his mouth, a new round of gunfire broke out. Turning, he grunted in surprise as a new influx of uniformed men began filling the hanger.

Caulder's men had arrived.

The interior of the ship was chaotic, but blessedly dark. Several smaller explosions shook the deck plates beneath Spike's feet. Pressing close to the bulkhead, he kept in the shadows until the immediate area was clear of bodies. Overhead, red emergency lights cast a dim aura, serving little help in the imposing blackness.

Checking his rounds again, Spike limped towards an open door. His previous exercise was doing a number on his legs, and a dull ache had settled into his knees and calves. Ahead, through the gloom, he could see what appeared to be another passageway. Without knowing exactly where he was headed, he made for the passageway, hoping it wouldn't lead to a roomful of armed men. Outside, the fighting and sounds of gunfire seemed to be escalating. Spike hoped Hollis was alright, but figured the man was probably fine, he seemed resourceful enough.

Footsteps echoed just ahead, and Spike flattened himself against the bulkhead. At the last moment, he spun into the hallway, using fists instead of bullets. The two men bounced off the walls and onto the grating without a single cry. Spike straightened slowly, gritting his teeth against the strain. He probably shouldn't have resorted to a roundhouse kick for the second guy.

Passing through the far doorway, Spike emerged into a spacious room. It looked like some sort of makeshift medical lab. Several broken bottles and vials lie scattered across the floor, spilling their contents across the smooth surface. The lighting in here was little better, but it was enough for Spike to see the smaller door at the opposite end of the room. Limping along the wall, he moved towards the door, his pistol held loosely in his right hand. Straining his ears as he approached, he searched with his eyes for any movement within.

Something was in there. Spike raised his gun, preparing to fire.