Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Duke ❯ Betrayed! ( Chapter 42 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: okieday17 
Will Vegeta catch up to Frieza? Just what has Bulma been up to this whole time?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.09.2015 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.3K | Visits: 312 | Status: Work In Progress
Will Vegeta catch up to Frieza? Just what has Bulma been up to this whole time?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.09.2015 | Pages: 3 | Words: 7.3K | Visits: 312 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. But if I did own DBZ well, it would have needed way more filler episodes than it has now.
Warnings: Cussing. Violence. All the good stuff you would expect from Frieza.
A/N: Guys, we are so close. I'm writing the last few chapters as we speak. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me, whether from the beginning of this story, or the beginning of this year. I write this for you!
Kattastropi, I could not do this without you. You know that.
Chapter Forty-One: Betrayed!
As Vegeta and Goku had burst into the tunnel, going their separate way down the sides of the narrow passage, Vegeta had moved at lightning speed focusing only on his intended kill. He ignored the other soldiers, instead running up the left side of the tunnel, his dagger thrown before he realized it. The man in front of him was taken down before he had even realized he had been under attack. Vegeta did not stop though, not even to pick up the dagger--his only focus was on Frieza. Frieza, who unlike the slow moving soldier Vegeta had just killed, had realized what was happening right away and was now disappearing down further into the tunnel with a foot soldier. Vegeta ignored everything that was happening on the other side of the tunnel, knowing he could trust Kakarrot to take care of the other Russian's, instead speeding up as he followed the path the Tsesarevich had taken. Vegeta rounded the corner just in time to see Frieza and the soldier splitting up as the tunnels curved--Frieza to the left, the foot soldier to the right.
Vegeta did not waste a second even thinking about the foot soldier--he was heading towards the docks--no doubt to rouse the army that Frieza thought was still there. Vegeta charged to the left, pounding against the ground, willing himself to run faster to gain speed on Frieza. Frieza used the twisting of the tunnels to his benefit, trying to disappear around corners--but Vegeta had an advantage over Frieza down here. Vegeta knew these tunnels like the back of his hand, and as he saw Frieza hook another left down another long tunnel, Vegeta did not follow him, knowing he was heading down a dummy tunnel that had only one entrance and exit. Unless, well, unless one knew about the trick door Vegeta just so happened to know how to open.
Vegeta ran quickly, putting energy into his speed so he could circle around and catch Frieza before he had time to realize he was heading down a dummy tunnel. He hit the latch of the door that was made to look like a rocky cave wall, pushing with his might, bursting forth into the dummy tunnel--to see Frieza ready, waiting for him with a cocked gun pointing right into his face. Vegeta stopped short, still in the secret doorway, still hunched over, the gun momentarily confusing him until recognition set in.
Frieza only laughed as he saw that realization dawn on Vegeta, lilting out that annoying giggle that would always raise Vegeta's hackles as it reminded him of his time being tortured at the hands of this monster. The physical scars that Frieza had given him still littered his body, the mental ones long since entrenched in his brain...well, except--damn. He only now realized as he stared in the barrel of a cocked gun how much Bulma had helped him get over them--with her the years of torture and pain faded, the memories of that teeth-grinding chuckle replaced with her sonorous and busty laugh that always had his lips quirking up in his facsimile of a smile.
Why was it one only faced certain clarity about their life when it was about to end?
Vegeta pushed that thought from his head, knowing it was not over yet--Frieza had made a grave mistake in not shooting Vegeta the second he had his gun trained on him--a mistake he had yet to realize if the victorious look on his face was any indication. Vegeta forced the blood that was rushing through his ears, that boiling in the pit of the stomach that belied anger, down--he needed to focus now, not lose an opportunity because his focal point was clouded.
Frieza took a step back motioning with his other hand for Vegeta to follow, his English accented with that heavy, aristocratic Russian Vegeta knew so well, "Come now, I don't want to kill you crouched down like the monkey you are. Up on your two feet Vegeta."
Vegeta obeyed, coming out of the fake door, ignoring Frieza's favorite slight against him ('monkey') as he stood up straight. Vegeta made sure his stance was proud as he stared into certain death, unable to let Frieza see him weak or afraid. He forced himself to show bravado, even as his eyes swiveled and swerved, looking for any opening, but at the moment there was none.
Well if he had learned anything from his time in the Russian dungeon it was that Frieza loved to gloat about having the upper hand. Maybe that would prove his downfall? Vegeta's hand reflexively tightened on gold handle of the sword he was carrying with pride, wondering when he would get the chance to use it.
"Drop your sword Vegeta, you won't be needing that."
Vegeta let it go without protestation, ignoring the loss of protection he felt as it fell to the ground with a clang. He needed time, time for Kakarrot and Nappa to catch up with them, time to think of a plan--and he did not want to lose that time because he refused to let go of a sword.
Frieza let out another chuckle as he observed the man in front of him, before shaking his head as if he had just heard a funny joke. "Oh Vegeta, I overestimated you, truly. I had not expected you to fall for that." Frieza's eyes went upward, as if looking at an audience that was watching them from above, before he looked back down, those almost purple lips pulled into a sinister smile. "Did you truly underrate me and think that I would not have these tunnels memorized before I let myself get lost in the maze of them? Do you not think I know exactly which tunnel would lead me to the castle? And which would lead me to a manhole covering not too far from your own Mayfair residence?"
Vegeta bared his teeth, but did not answer, knowing Frieza's penchant for talking that needed no prompting to continue. Indeed, Frieza was already speaking, putting the finger of his free hand to his chin, as if he was thinking. "Maybe you think I've grown soft since we last saw each other?" Frieza let out a laugh, shaking his head at even the notion of that happening. "No, not even you, a dumb monkey, could be that stupid." As Frieza's eyes clashed with Vegeta's again, that smile turned into a smirk as he drawled out, "Have you forgotten what I did to your own brother just two years ago?"
Vegeta's fist clenched at Frieza's mention of Tarble, though he tried his damndest not to let his emotions show--glad he had years of practice under the dowager's thumb and watchful gaze to know how to keep his face stony. He knew Frieza was toying with him, trying to make him snap, but Vegeta was not going to give him the pleasure.
Despite Vegeta's best efforts, though, Frieza had noticed the hand movement, his smile growing wide across his face as he recounted, "Oh the pleasure I felt upon receiving a note that your brother, your baby brother, was in the custody at one of our prisons. Oh the absolute delight I got from seeing him--he looked so much like you at that age it felt like I was getting my favorite toy back." Frieza paused as if he was in fact savoring the moment, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Vegeta felt his lips twitch up in a snarl, but he managed to smooth his face by the time Frieza's eyes opened, still talking, "The only problem was he was so much smaller than you--he did not have your strength, you know that, don't you?"
Frieza waited fruitlessly for an answer before he frowned, "Really Vegeta, it is rude not to answer when someone is talking to you." Frieza waited another second before giving a 'why me' sigh as he theatrically rolled his eyes, "Oh very well. You were never very good at playing along were you?" There was a malicious glint in his eyes as Frieza continued, "Your brother--oh he did anything I asked. He hated being tortured, absolutely hated it, and did not have the stomach for it like you did. He did not take to it as well as you did. His screams were some of the loudest I had ever heard. Knowing it was your brother making them made it all the sweeter. "
Frieza gave a dramatic sigh, his eyes locked with Vegeta's as he taunted, "When father told me that I would have to give him up, that he had been ransomed and that we had to let him go--I just about lost it. I killed fourteen different servants at that, one after the other--but it did not make letting him go any easier." Frieza's hand came up, a fist, as if to show his anger, though he soon opened it up in supplication as he continued to speak, "You can understand the horror my father felt when we received word that one of the murderer's your brother shared space with in the dungeon sliced his throat right open as Tarble slept." Frieza giggled at that, drawing his own fingernail along his throat to emphasize his point. "I heard he did not even make a sound, his eyes open as the blood gushed out of him, looking for help, though none came as the dagger I supplied took the life from him. Oh that was a sweet moment." His giggle turned into a full on laugh, his head thrown back at that--and Vegeta took the opening to move.
But he did not make it a step before Frieza let a shot off to the left of Vegeta's ear, a bullet whizzing past him. The mirth was gone as Frieza glared at him, "I did not say you could move, monkey. Stay where you are--I am talking and you are being rude."
Vegeta only narrowed his eyes, but he returned to the position he had been in before he had tried to move, saying nothing. Frieza only huffed, the gun cocking in his hand again as he held it leveled at Vegeta. Frieza shook his head, looking off put as he continued, "Oh now, where was I?" He paused as if thinking, tapping his foot as his finger tapped his chin before that smile was back on his face, frightful glee on his face as he remembered. "Oh yes, your dear brother. Tarble." His eyes grew larger as he leant forward, "Tell me Vegeta, tell me what it was like to open that body bag to find your brother dead, with my seal burned into him. Did you like how I preserved him? I wanted to make sure he was nice and fresh for you when you opened that bag." Frieza waited, an expectant look on his face as he searched Vegeta for even a minutia of emotion, before his smile dropped. "Oh you're being such a bore Vegeta. I asked you a question--answer it. What was your reaction on seeing your brother?"
Vegeta knew the signs of Frieza well, especially his anger, and Vegeta knew if he did not answer or speak soon Frieza would likely to grow bored and just shoot him. Vegeta did not want that yet, he was still looking for an actual opening, so he forced himself to finally speak, his words coming from between gritted teeth, "Kill me already. Be a man and shoot me dead."
Frieza tutted then, shaking his head as the gun stayed level. "Oh Vegeta, really. I will not kill you this quickly. You must know I have plans for you--you were always such a favorite play thing of mine." He let out a giggle at the childish term he used to describe gruesome torture victims. Vegeta remembered he had always been like that, always talking about how much 'fun' Vegeta was to play with right before he would do something horrible--such as rip his fingernails off one by one.
"No, I'm afraid you are going to stick by my side. I know your Generals upstairs think they have taken the upper hand now that they have taken the cabinet room back--but I have a much larger army waiting for them downstairs. Once my runner has gone to them, they will once again take Westminster, and this time there will be no hostages held. I will be the new ruler of the English Empire. And you will have a permanent home in the dungeons, well until I grow bored with you that is." Frieza waited for a response, and was surprised when he finally got one. Not verbally--no. Vegeta had let a smile grace his face, and Frieza was unable to stop himself from asking, "Why on Earth are you smiling monkey? Do you enjoy the thought of me torturing you?"
Vegeta took small pleasure in finally being able to be the one to chuckle, knowing it might cost him his life but finding he could not care as he spoke. "No, you inbred idiot. I'm smiling because I already took care of the longboat you had waiting under Westminster. Your men are done, either burnt to a crisp, or sunk to the bottom of the Thames in their heavy armor."
Frieza hesitated, doubtful, his eyes scrunching before he said, "You are lying."
Vegeta only shrugged, trying to look as if he did not have a care in the world as he continued, "Believe me or not. Your runner will be back to tell you they are gone any second now."
Frieza's eyes narrowed, but then the smile was back on his face, "No matter then. He will run back to Dodoria and tell him to blow the place sky high." Frieza used his other hand, closed in a fist to illuminate this point as he opened it, punctuating it with a, "Boom." He giggled, "Oh I stole the idea from your own history. That Guy Fawkes, he was on to something. Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder should be more than enough don't you think?"
Vegeta looked at him, unbelieving, "You would blow yourself up as well?"
Frieza laughed, "Oh heavens no. If my runner returns with the news that my soldiers are somehow dead--we are heading up and out. I have a hired carriage waiting to take me back to my ship in the dock--where we shall sail to France and meet up with Zhelonie."
Vegeta could not help himself from flinching this time, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Zhelonie was not by your side?"
Frieza shook his head, his malevolent merriment back in place as he admitted, "Oh heaven's no. He had another mission--a side mission he begged for."
Frieza waited expectantly, smirking, before he rolled his eyes again, "Oh come now Vegeta. Ask me what it his side mission is, please do."
Vegeta wanted to do nothing more, a growing pit of dread opening in his stomach as he thought about just where and what Zhelonie could be doing, but he asked a different question instead, trying to stall Frieza as Vegeta grew frantic on the inside with worry. "Who is Zhelonie?"
Frieza shook his head, that gut wrenching smile still on his face, "That's not the right question, you dumb monkey." Frieza paused for a moment before he conceded, "But it is a good one. You never figured it out, did you? No one did."
Vegeta shook his head, begrudgingly, and Frieza laughed, "Well he was right under your nose the whole time. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, he carried quite the torch for your wife." Vegeta could not help the widening of his eyes that time, and Frieza let out a jovial snigger, "Oh this is too delicious. You had your suspicions, didn't you? That Zarbon...I'm sorry, Zhelonie as you know him, was Viridian, didn't you?" Frieza closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring the moment, "I love this. I truly do. You thought you had him all checked out--his back-story completely checked out, didn't it? Well why wouldn't it? The real Viscount Viridian is his cousin--and a total shut in. Zarbon could easily take his place for the season here, and sow doubt in the King's adviser's ears. How do you think I gained entrance here? Or knew these tunnels inside and out? More than half of his advisors were more than willing to turn on King William--oh but you are getting me distracted from my earlier point."
Frieza's grin spread, growing crueler, "Now ask me what his mission is--the one he begged me for. Come on, please do." Frieza waited only a second before he added, "I'll give you a hint. It involves your wife."
Vegeta could not help himself from reacting, the growing pit in his stomach opening up as dread rushed through his system as he heard Frieza mention Bulma, his face pale, his arms going to his stomach as he pitched forward though nothing came out as he gagged, dry heaves wracking him. Vegeta's head bounced back up, fighting the trepidation as his eyes met Frieza's, his voice a low whisper as he asked, "What is his mission?"
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
~~&~~
Two Hours Earlier
Bulma sat, still as stone in the secret office, wrapped around herself, unconsciously hugging her unborn child as she forced herself to not move. She knew if she moved--well she knew she was likely to go into the main office and escape through the window and head to Westminster herself if that meant she could help her brother and her husband. But she had made not one, but two promises that she would not leave the secret office, and though it went against every fiber of her being, she forced herself to sit completely still.
Every now and then an errant thought about how she could help the two men she loved most in her life would cross the landscape of her mind, and she would find herself leaning forward as if to move--but then she would remember the promises, and the child she carried in her belly. For the first time in a very long time--Bulma cursed her womanhood. If she were a man she would not be in this condition, and she could actually help the men, contribute something more than just her brains and schemes.
Though, she also realized, if she were a man she would not be married to Vegeta, and she was sure she would not care even half as much about him as she currently did.
So instead she would lean back. She would draw her legs up to her belly, holding on to them, forcing herself to sit there and only repeat prayers that she only remembered from lessons long ago. The more thoughts of escape flitted across her mind--the more she forced herself to pray, hoping against all hope that Kami was taking care of her family.
She was unsure of how long she had sat there since Goku had left her, how long her eyes had been screwed tightly shut, her prayers becoming more of a mantra than actual prayers--before they popped open as a loud bang forced her eyes open. By the time the second loud crack rented the air, Bulma recognized the sound. Gunfire. What the fu--
She did not get to finish that thought as the crash of the outer office door hit against the wall on the other side of the secret office, Bulma leaping from her seat as she moved closer to the wall. She moved so she was against the door that looked like a bookcase on the other side, looking to make sure it was locked as she held herself entirely still against it, trying to discern what was happening. Had someone tried to come in, and the guards were looking for her to move her? She strained to hear, hoping they would be wise enough to say her name so she would know it was them--but instead she heard loud stomping and the familiar clack of a cane. Not long after, the voices filtered in loud and clear, and Bulma's heart thumped as she realized it was not the servants who had been posted to protect her.
The first one was French, male--and so familiar, "Where is she you old hag?!"
The second one was British, older and female--and though it shook with unusual emotion, Bulma knew right away it was the dowager, "I don't know! I assumed in here because of the guards--I don't know--," The dowager broke off, an uncharacteristic sob escaping her as she said, "Please! I don't know where Bulma is. I've been in my quarters all day--she must be gone with the rest of the servants."
The dowager was crying, and begging? Bulma had always thought her unflappable, inhuman--so whatever situation she found herself in must truly be terrifying to wrench emotion from her like so. Bulma felt something in her stomach twist--she hated the old woman dearly, there was no doubt about that--but to hear her reduced to tears? Bulma would never wish that on anyone. Not even someone as callous as the Dowager.
The male spoke again, "Are you trying to tell me those two men were guarding AN EMPTY ROOM?! You expect me to believe that?" There was the heavy sound of flesh meeting flesh, and Bulma flinched, knowing that the dowager had just been smacked, and hard, "Now try again--where is she?!"
The dowager let out a low moan, followed by a sob as she only said, "I don't know. I don't--please, you have to believe me."
There was a calm, the only sound the whimpers of the dowager for a long moment. Bulma felt her breath hitch as the French accented voice spoke again, "Oh I believe you." The dowager's whimpers stopped then, replaced by a large gasp and a cry, as the French man continued, "Which means you are useless to me."
Bulma felt the cold drip of fear down her back as she realized what those words meant. The drip turned into a torrent as she heard the Dowager's resumed crying, her pleading, "Please no. Please don't kill me. I'm just an old woman--I don't deserve--." Another smack, this time something hitting the ground. Bulma could only assume it was the dowager.
The male spoke again, "I don't care. You are useless to me, and you have seen my face. My only option is to kill you."
Bulma's heart stopped as she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking--and before she knew just exactly what she was doing, she had burst from the secret office--two guns held out as she entered the room, finding the dowager on the ground and... Viridian--no, Zarbon--wait, Zhelonie?! Fuck!
Bulma could have smacked herself for missing the obvious, her mind rushing back to that first night they had met, her detection of a slight French accent--but she did not dwell on it as she saw Zarbon grab the dowager from the floor, holding her in front of him as a human shield as he put the gun to her temple. His accent was not the one she knew from being companions over the season, but rather that of an actual French aristocrat--and (she assumed) what was his real voice as he spoke, "That's quite far enough Bulma. Unless you want the old woman's brains all over the room."
The dowager's face was red, tear stained, her eyes wild as she met Bulma's own, "Help me! He's going to kill me! Help me Bulma!"
Bulma spoke directly to the Dowager, her tone soothing, "Do not worry. I will get you out of this." She turned towards the man she thought she knew, the man who had danced with her, escorted her--hell, courted her in what felt like another lifetime as her eyes met his. Her tone was pure ice as she only said, "Zhelonie, I presume."
Zarbon's lips turned up in a simile of a smile, "Ah, Bulma, so good of you to join us." He held the dowager tighter to him, the gun pushing into her forehead as he said, "Be a dear and drop those guns--or else I will not hesitate to kill this woman."
Bulma, who had never truly seen death in her life, felt her knees tremble at the thought of the dowager's head being blown off. She was grateful her full skirts hid this though, as she forced herself to stand tall, steel in her spine. She made sure to keep her face blank, her hands steady as she only asked, "What guarantee do I have from you that you will not kill her?"
Zarbon snorted, looking bored, "I did not come here for the hag, Bulma. I came for you--you must know what sort of leverage you are against your husband. Here, look." He took the gun, pulling the hammer back, uncocking it, as he uselessly held it at his side, though he did not drop the dowager or the gun, "I have no need to kill her. I am here for you. If you put the guns down and come with me--I will not harm her."
The dowager spoke again, holding his arm that was tight against her throat with both hands, her eyes pleading even as tears streamed from them, "Please Bulma, do what he says. Please."
Bulma thought only for a moment, weighing her options. There was no love lost between her and the dowager--but Bulma knew, deep down, that she would never let another human being die on her account. No matter how horrible they were. So she followed Zarbon's lead, uncocking the guns, dropping them from her hands before she raised her hands, "Take me then. Let the woman go."
Zarbon's smile became feral as he pushed the old woman out of his way, grabbing Bulma instead, binding her hands with some rope, smiling at her, "That's my girl."
Bulma felt her stomach turn at the thought of ever being his girl, but before the thought could really process, the sound of the dowager's tones--so unlike what they had just sounded like, rang through the room. Dulcet, calculating and...triumphant, "I told you she would fall for that." Bulma's entire stomach dropped as she heard the dowager's normal tone back in place, the simpering, pleading voice gone, confusion setting in.
Zarbon looked past Bulma, smiling in the direction where the dowager was, "Oh you were right. An absolute pleasure to see you in action, you are quite the actress." Zarbon looked back at Bulma, smirking at her as he said, "I don't think she even suspected you were acting, did you Bulma?"
Zarbon turned Bulma then, to face the dowager who looked much more like her usual crone self, leaning on her cane with both hands as she leered at Bulma, the triumph that had been apparent in her voice written all over her face, no sign of the distress or the tears that had just been there. "You really are as stupid as you are a whore, aren't you bitch?"
Bulma's mouth went dry, and for the first time in a very long time Bulma felt stupefied and downright. She could not stop herself from dumbly asking, "What?"
The dowager let out a smirk, a cold one that sucked the air from the room as she only repeated in a high pitched whine, "What?" The dowager pointed to her, locking eyes with Zarbon, "Can you believe how stupid she truly is?" The dowagers eyes swiveled back to Bulma then, the ice behind them chilling Bulma right down to her soul, "I knew you would take pity on me, and I set up this whole thing. When Zarbon came to me a week ago with a proposition for how to finally rid myself of you, and that bastard that you are trying to pass off as my grandson's for good." The dowager's eyes flickered down to Bulma's stomach before they met with Bulma's again, her usual smirk a full on grin as she continued, "Do you think me stupid enough to be taken captive? No dear. That would be you."
The dowager shook her head, laughing, a cold sound that chilled Bulma to her bones. "And to think--I thought I was going to have sneak Zarbon throughout the house looking for you--but then you help us by sending all of the servants away and leaving only two--right here. You could not have made it more obvious that you were hiding in here somewhere." The dowager let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, "You really are that dim-witted."
Bulma's whole world shattered at that--she had fallen for it. She had fallen for the ruse of the dowager being in danger--Bulma Briefs had fallen for one of the oldest plays in the book. Right about then she really did feel as dull as the dowager thought she was. Really--she should have known the old crone would never cry or plead for her life. Still, knowing that did not stop her from whispering, "But I did it to save you."
The dowager shrugged, "Your problem. Not mine. You should have learned like I had to not to trust anyone but yourself." The dowager looked past Bulma, to where Zarbon was standing, smirking, "Take her away. I shall have an appropriate story about how you ransacked the place and knocked me unconscious by the time the men return."
Zarbon's voice was thick and compliant as he spoke, "An honor to work with an actress such as yourself, Your Grace. Truly--I could not have asked for a better partner." Bulma started as Zarbon raised the gun he had been holding at his side, cocking it next to her ear, as his voice turned honeyed, "But someone as smart as you can appreciate that I can't leave any loose ends." Before the dowager could even really register what was happening, or Bulma could scream--he pulled the trigger, and the dowager collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Zarbon's hand covered Bulma's mouth before the scream in her throat could leave her, as he whispered, "Don't fret Bulma, you won't ever have to see that wretched woman or her grandson ever again." Before Bulma could comprehend the fear she felt from that thought, Zarbon used the butt of the gun he had just shot to knock her against her head, the black nothing of unconsciousness claiming her.
~~&~~
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
The words echoed through Vegeta's mind, over and over, faster and faster like some sort of sick ride he could not get off--and before he knew it, or Frieza could grasp it, Vegeta had moved. Faster than he ever had, or ever would, in his life.
Vegeta went on instinct, needing to get out of the range of the gun, dropping to the ground, his leg shooting out as he turned, knocking Frieza off of his feet. Frieza was no fool, and was definitely not physically slow. He had been expecting this, jumping out of the way of Vegeta's outstretched leg.
Vegeta followed him back up, springing up to a standing position, before doing a high kick to knock the gun from Frieza's hand. The gun went sailing, flying to the mouth of the dummy tunnel. Frieza snarled as he looked back, "You will pay dearly for that," before he lunged for Vegeta, his hand open before he wrapped it around Vegeta's throat.
Vegeta could easily move out of the grasp--but before he went to do so, he felt the bite of metal against his flesh. Vegeta realized that Frieza had either razor sharp claws, or five little knives at the end of each of his fingers--all of which were now digging into this flesh. "Move and you tear your own throat out you stupid Monkey."
Vegeta hesitated for only a tenth of a second, formulating a way out of this. He took a calculated risk as he grabbed Frieza's hand at the wrist, Vegeta's other hand grabbing his arm, before he threw all of his weight back hitting the ground with Frieza on top of him. The move shocked Frieza enough that he let go as they both tumbled to the ground, Vegeta throwing his weight to this side this time so that t he was on top of Frieza. Vegeta quickly moved his legs up, pinning the monarch to the ground as he wrapped his own hands around Frieza's neck. Still, Vegeta did not squeeze, just looking into the man who had stolen his brother's life and was trying to destroy his own with an almost detached scientific evaluation, observing the flailing man underneath him, carefully weighing his action's here.
Frieza must have read his mind, because he let out the deplorable chuckle, even as Vegeta tightened his hand around the man's throat, "Go ahead. Kill me. You shall have the full weight of the Russian army against you and your country then. You will do me a favor and provoke my useless brother and father into a war I have long been urging them to wage."
The taunt flew over his head, Vegeta's steely resolve stopping him from responding to it. Frieza wanted him to react, and at that moment--Vegeta was beyond reaction. He needed to be. This was no longer about him or his life. So instead Vegeta stood, holding Frieza to him so he could not move, pinning his hands behind him, wishing he had some way of binding the man, but knowing he needed to keep moving if what Frieza had said about Bulma was true. Vegeta needed to get to her, he needed to find her and protect her.
He leant down only long enough to grab his gold plated sword, feeling the weight of it in his hand before he placed it in his scabbard, going for the gun Frieza had thrown next, holding it into Frieza's back, resisting the temptation to just cock it and pull the trigger--to kill the man right there and then to pay him back for every injustice done against Vegeta and his family. Instead Vegeta just used it to push Frieza forward as Vegeta started to walk.
"Move."
Frieza laughed as he was pushed forward, recognizing the feel of a gun muzzle at his back, "You are a bigger coward than I thought Vegeta. You should know that your government cannot imprison me--they would then have to admit to my killing the king. When they do that, your people shall see how weak your monarchy truly is, especially with no named heir--and before we know it, your whole country will up rise, and weaken itself just enough so I can have it. Or your people shall return me to my father, where I will be left to plot out my next plan for how to overthrow your government." He let out that cruel chuckle, "Really--there is no way for me to lose here."
Vegeta ignored the ache in his stomach, the gnawing anger that rushed through him, wanting him to kill, to maim, to murder, instead leading Frieza back to the main tunnel, where he found Kakarrot and Nappa searching for him. Nappa's eyes grew wide as he saw an alive Frieza being pushed ahead of Vegeta, but he only moved forward, taking the still talking monarch from Vegeta, a question in his eyes as he simply asked, "My lord? Where are we taking him?"
Vegeta sighed, rubbing his eyes, ignoring the gnawing blood lust in his stomach, the ignored beast clawing to be let free, "I don't know. I want to take him upstairs back to the brass--."
Frieza let out another laugh, cutting off Vegeta then, "You fools. They will have to let me go. You might have won today Vegeta--but I will be back. You will ensure that by taking me to the men upstairs." Frieza stopped then, his eyes large as he only said, "And by that time your wife shall be pregnant with my babe. Oh won't it be delicious. I know where she is--and you do not. Zhelonie might think he gets to keep her, but I've already decided that since you so obviously care for her I must have her. To break. Just like I did with your brother."
Kakarrot spoke then, looking at Vegeta as his hands fisted, "Vegeta--what is he talking about? Why is he speaking about Bulma like that?"
Frieza answered Kakarrot himself, that arrogant smirk still on his face despite being outnumbered three to one. "You must be the cousin I have heard so much about. You are as dumb of a monkey as he is--I have taken your sister hostage, and I plan on making her my new bride. Well, just long enough for her to birth me an heir or two--then I think I will return her to Vegeta much in the same way I returned his brother. I wonder if she shall scream and beg for her life as much as Tarb--."
Vegeta could not help the way his arm cocked back, or the way it swung, connecting right with Frieza's jaw. Frieza's head snapped back with the impact, Vegeta's hurting first well worth it as Frieza's body crumpled in Nappa's arms, completely unconscious.
Nappa looked at Vegeta, his trepidation clear as he tentatively put two fingers to Frieza's neck, breathing a sigh of relief after a second, "He is still alive." Nappa's whole hand flexed then wrapping itself around Frieza's neck, "But he doesn't have to be. Let me do it."
Vegeta waved his hand, rubbing the space between his eyes, "No. We must have him alive."
He could hear the frown in Nappa's voice, "Well we can't take him upstairs. He is right about them having to release him to his father."
Vegeta's eyes snapped open, the path ahead of him clear, "We cannot. We have to bring him with us. We need to go right now. He was not jesting about having Bulma, I fear. We need to get to the docks as soon as possible--I am not sure where in France Zhelonie is heading with her, but every second we waste down here is a second they have to disappear into France. Perhaps when we are on the Saiyan Lady we can persuade Frieza to talk--or use him to barter for Bulma."
Vegeta turned towards his cousin then, "You have been invaluable today--but you do not need to come with us now. I will use my men on the ship. Who knows how long we will be gone, and I need you here."
Kakarrot snapped then, his eyes moving from the knocked out monarch to his cousins, fire blazing in them. "With all due fucking respect you need me with you more than you need me here. Bulma is my sister. If what Frieza was saying is true--that Bulma has been taken, then it is just as much my job as it yours to save her." Kakarrot started to move then, authoritative and so unlike him as he spoke over his shoulder, "Now come on. I think I know a way we can catch up to them before they get to France."
Vegeta started, staring at the man with incredulity, "How?"
Kakarrot smirked then, stopping as he turned, looking so much like a Saiyan as he spoke with that cocky look on his face, "My sister's steam engine."
~~&~~
A/N: A few of you have been asking me about Bulma and what she has been up to. I've missed her too in these last few chapters, but she didn't fit into the action until the big reveal of her kidnapping. In all honestly, I do think if Bulma was not pregnant that she would be trying to fight Frieza and his men with Vegeta and Goku. But since she is...well, maybe in the next story? Still, I hope you have enough faith in me (and Bulma) to know she will never be the usual damsel in distress, or the expected hostage Zarbon thinks she will be.
Until next time!
Warnings: Cussing. Violence. All the good stuff you would expect from Frieza.
A/N: Guys, we are so close. I'm writing the last few chapters as we speak. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me, whether from the beginning of this story, or the beginning of this year. I write this for you!
Kattastropi, I could not do this without you. You know that.
Chapter Forty-One: Betrayed!
As Vegeta and Goku had burst into the tunnel, going their separate way down the sides of the narrow passage, Vegeta had moved at lightning speed focusing only on his intended kill. He ignored the other soldiers, instead running up the left side of the tunnel, his dagger thrown before he realized it. The man in front of him was taken down before he had even realized he had been under attack. Vegeta did not stop though, not even to pick up the dagger--his only focus was on Frieza. Frieza, who unlike the slow moving soldier Vegeta had just killed, had realized what was happening right away and was now disappearing down further into the tunnel with a foot soldier. Vegeta ignored everything that was happening on the other side of the tunnel, knowing he could trust Kakarrot to take care of the other Russian's, instead speeding up as he followed the path the Tsesarevich had taken. Vegeta rounded the corner just in time to see Frieza and the soldier splitting up as the tunnels curved--Frieza to the left, the foot soldier to the right.
Vegeta did not waste a second even thinking about the foot soldier--he was heading towards the docks--no doubt to rouse the army that Frieza thought was still there. Vegeta charged to the left, pounding against the ground, willing himself to run faster to gain speed on Frieza. Frieza used the twisting of the tunnels to his benefit, trying to disappear around corners--but Vegeta had an advantage over Frieza down here. Vegeta knew these tunnels like the back of his hand, and as he saw Frieza hook another left down another long tunnel, Vegeta did not follow him, knowing he was heading down a dummy tunnel that had only one entrance and exit. Unless, well, unless one knew about the trick door Vegeta just so happened to know how to open.
Vegeta ran quickly, putting energy into his speed so he could circle around and catch Frieza before he had time to realize he was heading down a dummy tunnel. He hit the latch of the door that was made to look like a rocky cave wall, pushing with his might, bursting forth into the dummy tunnel--to see Frieza ready, waiting for him with a cocked gun pointing right into his face. Vegeta stopped short, still in the secret doorway, still hunched over, the gun momentarily confusing him until recognition set in.
Frieza only laughed as he saw that realization dawn on Vegeta, lilting out that annoying giggle that would always raise Vegeta's hackles as it reminded him of his time being tortured at the hands of this monster. The physical scars that Frieza had given him still littered his body, the mental ones long since entrenched in his brain...well, except--damn. He only now realized as he stared in the barrel of a cocked gun how much Bulma had helped him get over them--with her the years of torture and pain faded, the memories of that teeth-grinding chuckle replaced with her sonorous and busty laugh that always had his lips quirking up in his facsimile of a smile.
Why was it one only faced certain clarity about their life when it was about to end?
Vegeta pushed that thought from his head, knowing it was not over yet--Frieza had made a grave mistake in not shooting Vegeta the second he had his gun trained on him--a mistake he had yet to realize if the victorious look on his face was any indication. Vegeta forced the blood that was rushing through his ears, that boiling in the pit of the stomach that belied anger, down--he needed to focus now, not lose an opportunity because his focal point was clouded.
Frieza took a step back motioning with his other hand for Vegeta to follow, his English accented with that heavy, aristocratic Russian Vegeta knew so well, "Come now, I don't want to kill you crouched down like the monkey you are. Up on your two feet Vegeta."
Vegeta obeyed, coming out of the fake door, ignoring Frieza's favorite slight against him ('monkey') as he stood up straight. Vegeta made sure his stance was proud as he stared into certain death, unable to let Frieza see him weak or afraid. He forced himself to show bravado, even as his eyes swiveled and swerved, looking for any opening, but at the moment there was none.
Well if he had learned anything from his time in the Russian dungeon it was that Frieza loved to gloat about having the upper hand. Maybe that would prove his downfall? Vegeta's hand reflexively tightened on gold handle of the sword he was carrying with pride, wondering when he would get the chance to use it.
"Drop your sword Vegeta, you won't be needing that."
Vegeta let it go without protestation, ignoring the loss of protection he felt as it fell to the ground with a clang. He needed time, time for Kakarrot and Nappa to catch up with them, time to think of a plan--and he did not want to lose that time because he refused to let go of a sword.
Frieza let out another chuckle as he observed the man in front of him, before shaking his head as if he had just heard a funny joke. "Oh Vegeta, I overestimated you, truly. I had not expected you to fall for that." Frieza's eyes went upward, as if looking at an audience that was watching them from above, before he looked back down, those almost purple lips pulled into a sinister smile. "Did you truly underrate me and think that I would not have these tunnels memorized before I let myself get lost in the maze of them? Do you not think I know exactly which tunnel would lead me to the castle? And which would lead me to a manhole covering not too far from your own Mayfair residence?"
Vegeta bared his teeth, but did not answer, knowing Frieza's penchant for talking that needed no prompting to continue. Indeed, Frieza was already speaking, putting the finger of his free hand to his chin, as if he was thinking. "Maybe you think I've grown soft since we last saw each other?" Frieza let out a laugh, shaking his head at even the notion of that happening. "No, not even you, a dumb monkey, could be that stupid." As Frieza's eyes clashed with Vegeta's again, that smile turned into a smirk as he drawled out, "Have you forgotten what I did to your own brother just two years ago?"
Vegeta's fist clenched at Frieza's mention of Tarble, though he tried his damndest not to let his emotions show--glad he had years of practice under the dowager's thumb and watchful gaze to know how to keep his face stony. He knew Frieza was toying with him, trying to make him snap, but Vegeta was not going to give him the pleasure.
Despite Vegeta's best efforts, though, Frieza had noticed the hand movement, his smile growing wide across his face as he recounted, "Oh the pleasure I felt upon receiving a note that your brother, your baby brother, was in the custody at one of our prisons. Oh the absolute delight I got from seeing him--he looked so much like you at that age it felt like I was getting my favorite toy back." Frieza paused as if he was in fact savoring the moment, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Vegeta felt his lips twitch up in a snarl, but he managed to smooth his face by the time Frieza's eyes opened, still talking, "The only problem was he was so much smaller than you--he did not have your strength, you know that, don't you?"
Frieza waited fruitlessly for an answer before he frowned, "Really Vegeta, it is rude not to answer when someone is talking to you." Frieza waited another second before giving a 'why me' sigh as he theatrically rolled his eyes, "Oh very well. You were never very good at playing along were you?" There was a malicious glint in his eyes as Frieza continued, "Your brother--oh he did anything I asked. He hated being tortured, absolutely hated it, and did not have the stomach for it like you did. He did not take to it as well as you did. His screams were some of the loudest I had ever heard. Knowing it was your brother making them made it all the sweeter. "
Frieza gave a dramatic sigh, his eyes locked with Vegeta's as he taunted, "When father told me that I would have to give him up, that he had been ransomed and that we had to let him go--I just about lost it. I killed fourteen different servants at that, one after the other--but it did not make letting him go any easier." Frieza's hand came up, a fist, as if to show his anger, though he soon opened it up in supplication as he continued to speak, "You can understand the horror my father felt when we received word that one of the murderer's your brother shared space with in the dungeon sliced his throat right open as Tarble slept." Frieza giggled at that, drawing his own fingernail along his throat to emphasize his point. "I heard he did not even make a sound, his eyes open as the blood gushed out of him, looking for help, though none came as the dagger I supplied took the life from him. Oh that was a sweet moment." His giggle turned into a full on laugh, his head thrown back at that--and Vegeta took the opening to move.
But he did not make it a step before Frieza let a shot off to the left of Vegeta's ear, a bullet whizzing past him. The mirth was gone as Frieza glared at him, "I did not say you could move, monkey. Stay where you are--I am talking and you are being rude."
Vegeta only narrowed his eyes, but he returned to the position he had been in before he had tried to move, saying nothing. Frieza only huffed, the gun cocking in his hand again as he held it leveled at Vegeta. Frieza shook his head, looking off put as he continued, "Oh now, where was I?" He paused as if thinking, tapping his foot as his finger tapped his chin before that smile was back on his face, frightful glee on his face as he remembered. "Oh yes, your dear brother. Tarble." His eyes grew larger as he leant forward, "Tell me Vegeta, tell me what it was like to open that body bag to find your brother dead, with my seal burned into him. Did you like how I preserved him? I wanted to make sure he was nice and fresh for you when you opened that bag." Frieza waited, an expectant look on his face as he searched Vegeta for even a minutia of emotion, before his smile dropped. "Oh you're being such a bore Vegeta. I asked you a question--answer it. What was your reaction on seeing your brother?"
Vegeta knew the signs of Frieza well, especially his anger, and Vegeta knew if he did not answer or speak soon Frieza would likely to grow bored and just shoot him. Vegeta did not want that yet, he was still looking for an actual opening, so he forced himself to finally speak, his words coming from between gritted teeth, "Kill me already. Be a man and shoot me dead."
Frieza tutted then, shaking his head as the gun stayed level. "Oh Vegeta, really. I will not kill you this quickly. You must know I have plans for you--you were always such a favorite play thing of mine." He let out a giggle at the childish term he used to describe gruesome torture victims. Vegeta remembered he had always been like that, always talking about how much 'fun' Vegeta was to play with right before he would do something horrible--such as rip his fingernails off one by one.
"No, I'm afraid you are going to stick by my side. I know your Generals upstairs think they have taken the upper hand now that they have taken the cabinet room back--but I have a much larger army waiting for them downstairs. Once my runner has gone to them, they will once again take Westminster, and this time there will be no hostages held. I will be the new ruler of the English Empire. And you will have a permanent home in the dungeons, well until I grow bored with you that is." Frieza waited for a response, and was surprised when he finally got one. Not verbally--no. Vegeta had let a smile grace his face, and Frieza was unable to stop himself from asking, "Why on Earth are you smiling monkey? Do you enjoy the thought of me torturing you?"
Vegeta took small pleasure in finally being able to be the one to chuckle, knowing it might cost him his life but finding he could not care as he spoke. "No, you inbred idiot. I'm smiling because I already took care of the longboat you had waiting under Westminster. Your men are done, either burnt to a crisp, or sunk to the bottom of the Thames in their heavy armor."
Frieza hesitated, doubtful, his eyes scrunching before he said, "You are lying."
Vegeta only shrugged, trying to look as if he did not have a care in the world as he continued, "Believe me or not. Your runner will be back to tell you they are gone any second now."
Frieza's eyes narrowed, but then the smile was back on his face, "No matter then. He will run back to Dodoria and tell him to blow the place sky high." Frieza used his other hand, closed in a fist to illuminate this point as he opened it, punctuating it with a, "Boom." He giggled, "Oh I stole the idea from your own history. That Guy Fawkes, he was on to something. Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder should be more than enough don't you think?"
Vegeta looked at him, unbelieving, "You would blow yourself up as well?"
Frieza laughed, "Oh heavens no. If my runner returns with the news that my soldiers are somehow dead--we are heading up and out. I have a hired carriage waiting to take me back to my ship in the dock--where we shall sail to France and meet up with Zhelonie."
Vegeta could not help himself from flinching this time, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Zhelonie was not by your side?"
Frieza shook his head, his malevolent merriment back in place as he admitted, "Oh heaven's no. He had another mission--a side mission he begged for."
Frieza waited expectantly, smirking, before he rolled his eyes again, "Oh come now Vegeta. Ask me what it his side mission is, please do."
Vegeta wanted to do nothing more, a growing pit of dread opening in his stomach as he thought about just where and what Zhelonie could be doing, but he asked a different question instead, trying to stall Frieza as Vegeta grew frantic on the inside with worry. "Who is Zhelonie?"
Frieza shook his head, that gut wrenching smile still on his face, "That's not the right question, you dumb monkey." Frieza paused for a moment before he conceded, "But it is a good one. You never figured it out, did you? No one did."
Vegeta shook his head, begrudgingly, and Frieza laughed, "Well he was right under your nose the whole time. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, he carried quite the torch for your wife." Vegeta could not help the widening of his eyes that time, and Frieza let out a jovial snigger, "Oh this is too delicious. You had your suspicions, didn't you? That Zarbon...I'm sorry, Zhelonie as you know him, was Viridian, didn't you?" Frieza closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring the moment, "I love this. I truly do. You thought you had him all checked out--his back-story completely checked out, didn't it? Well why wouldn't it? The real Viscount Viridian is his cousin--and a total shut in. Zarbon could easily take his place for the season here, and sow doubt in the King's adviser's ears. How do you think I gained entrance here? Or knew these tunnels inside and out? More than half of his advisors were more than willing to turn on King William--oh but you are getting me distracted from my earlier point."
Frieza's grin spread, growing crueler, "Now ask me what his mission is--the one he begged me for. Come on, please do." Frieza waited only a second before he added, "I'll give you a hint. It involves your wife."
Vegeta could not help himself from reacting, the growing pit in his stomach opening up as dread rushed through his system as he heard Frieza mention Bulma, his face pale, his arms going to his stomach as he pitched forward though nothing came out as he gagged, dry heaves wracking him. Vegeta's head bounced back up, fighting the trepidation as his eyes met Frieza's, his voice a low whisper as he asked, "What is his mission?"
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
~~&~~
Two Hours Earlier
Bulma sat, still as stone in the secret office, wrapped around herself, unconsciously hugging her unborn child as she forced herself to not move. She knew if she moved--well she knew she was likely to go into the main office and escape through the window and head to Westminster herself if that meant she could help her brother and her husband. But she had made not one, but two promises that she would not leave the secret office, and though it went against every fiber of her being, she forced herself to sit completely still.
Every now and then an errant thought about how she could help the two men she loved most in her life would cross the landscape of her mind, and she would find herself leaning forward as if to move--but then she would remember the promises, and the child she carried in her belly. For the first time in a very long time--Bulma cursed her womanhood. If she were a man she would not be in this condition, and she could actually help the men, contribute something more than just her brains and schemes.
Though, she also realized, if she were a man she would not be married to Vegeta, and she was sure she would not care even half as much about him as she currently did.
So instead she would lean back. She would draw her legs up to her belly, holding on to them, forcing herself to sit there and only repeat prayers that she only remembered from lessons long ago. The more thoughts of escape flitted across her mind--the more she forced herself to pray, hoping against all hope that Kami was taking care of her family.
She was unsure of how long she had sat there since Goku had left her, how long her eyes had been screwed tightly shut, her prayers becoming more of a mantra than actual prayers--before they popped open as a loud bang forced her eyes open. By the time the second loud crack rented the air, Bulma recognized the sound. Gunfire. What the fu--
She did not get to finish that thought as the crash of the outer office door hit against the wall on the other side of the secret office, Bulma leaping from her seat as she moved closer to the wall. She moved so she was against the door that looked like a bookcase on the other side, looking to make sure it was locked as she held herself entirely still against it, trying to discern what was happening. Had someone tried to come in, and the guards were looking for her to move her? She strained to hear, hoping they would be wise enough to say her name so she would know it was them--but instead she heard loud stomping and the familiar clack of a cane. Not long after, the voices filtered in loud and clear, and Bulma's heart thumped as she realized it was not the servants who had been posted to protect her.
The first one was French, male--and so familiar, "Where is she you old hag?!"
The second one was British, older and female--and though it shook with unusual emotion, Bulma knew right away it was the dowager, "I don't know! I assumed in here because of the guards--I don't know--," The dowager broke off, an uncharacteristic sob escaping her as she said, "Please! I don't know where Bulma is. I've been in my quarters all day--she must be gone with the rest of the servants."
The dowager was crying, and begging? Bulma had always thought her unflappable, inhuman--so whatever situation she found herself in must truly be terrifying to wrench emotion from her like so. Bulma felt something in her stomach twist--she hated the old woman dearly, there was no doubt about that--but to hear her reduced to tears? Bulma would never wish that on anyone. Not even someone as callous as the Dowager.
The male spoke again, "Are you trying to tell me those two men were guarding AN EMPTY ROOM?! You expect me to believe that?" There was the heavy sound of flesh meeting flesh, and Bulma flinched, knowing that the dowager had just been smacked, and hard, "Now try again--where is she?!"
The dowager let out a low moan, followed by a sob as she only said, "I don't know. I don't--please, you have to believe me."
There was a calm, the only sound the whimpers of the dowager for a long moment. Bulma felt her breath hitch as the French accented voice spoke again, "Oh I believe you." The dowager's whimpers stopped then, replaced by a large gasp and a cry, as the French man continued, "Which means you are useless to me."
Bulma felt the cold drip of fear down her back as she realized what those words meant. The drip turned into a torrent as she heard the Dowager's resumed crying, her pleading, "Please no. Please don't kill me. I'm just an old woman--I don't deserve--." Another smack, this time something hitting the ground. Bulma could only assume it was the dowager.
The male spoke again, "I don't care. You are useless to me, and you have seen my face. My only option is to kill you."
Bulma's heart stopped as she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking--and before she knew just exactly what she was doing, she had burst from the secret office--two guns held out as she entered the room, finding the dowager on the ground and... Viridian--no, Zarbon--wait, Zhelonie?! Fuck!
Bulma could have smacked herself for missing the obvious, her mind rushing back to that first night they had met, her detection of a slight French accent--but she did not dwell on it as she saw Zarbon grab the dowager from the floor, holding her in front of him as a human shield as he put the gun to her temple. His accent was not the one she knew from being companions over the season, but rather that of an actual French aristocrat--and (she assumed) what was his real voice as he spoke, "That's quite far enough Bulma. Unless you want the old woman's brains all over the room."
The dowager's face was red, tear stained, her eyes wild as she met Bulma's own, "Help me! He's going to kill me! Help me Bulma!"
Bulma spoke directly to the Dowager, her tone soothing, "Do not worry. I will get you out of this." She turned towards the man she thought she knew, the man who had danced with her, escorted her--hell, courted her in what felt like another lifetime as her eyes met his. Her tone was pure ice as she only said, "Zhelonie, I presume."
Zarbon's lips turned up in a simile of a smile, "Ah, Bulma, so good of you to join us." He held the dowager tighter to him, the gun pushing into her forehead as he said, "Be a dear and drop those guns--or else I will not hesitate to kill this woman."
Bulma, who had never truly seen death in her life, felt her knees tremble at the thought of the dowager's head being blown off. She was grateful her full skirts hid this though, as she forced herself to stand tall, steel in her spine. She made sure to keep her face blank, her hands steady as she only asked, "What guarantee do I have from you that you will not kill her?"
Zarbon snorted, looking bored, "I did not come here for the hag, Bulma. I came for you--you must know what sort of leverage you are against your husband. Here, look." He took the gun, pulling the hammer back, uncocking it, as he uselessly held it at his side, though he did not drop the dowager or the gun, "I have no need to kill her. I am here for you. If you put the guns down and come with me--I will not harm her."
The dowager spoke again, holding his arm that was tight against her throat with both hands, her eyes pleading even as tears streamed from them, "Please Bulma, do what he says. Please."
Bulma thought only for a moment, weighing her options. There was no love lost between her and the dowager--but Bulma knew, deep down, that she would never let another human being die on her account. No matter how horrible they were. So she followed Zarbon's lead, uncocking the guns, dropping them from her hands before she raised her hands, "Take me then. Let the woman go."
Zarbon's smile became feral as he pushed the old woman out of his way, grabbing Bulma instead, binding her hands with some rope, smiling at her, "That's my girl."
Bulma felt her stomach turn at the thought of ever being his girl, but before the thought could really process, the sound of the dowager's tones--so unlike what they had just sounded like, rang through the room. Dulcet, calculating and...triumphant, "I told you she would fall for that." Bulma's entire stomach dropped as she heard the dowager's normal tone back in place, the simpering, pleading voice gone, confusion setting in.
Zarbon looked past Bulma, smiling in the direction where the dowager was, "Oh you were right. An absolute pleasure to see you in action, you are quite the actress." Zarbon looked back at Bulma, smirking at her as he said, "I don't think she even suspected you were acting, did you Bulma?"
Zarbon turned Bulma then, to face the dowager who looked much more like her usual crone self, leaning on her cane with both hands as she leered at Bulma, the triumph that had been apparent in her voice written all over her face, no sign of the distress or the tears that had just been there. "You really are as stupid as you are a whore, aren't you bitch?"
Bulma's mouth went dry, and for the first time in a very long time Bulma felt stupefied and downright. She could not stop herself from dumbly asking, "What?"
The dowager let out a smirk, a cold one that sucked the air from the room as she only repeated in a high pitched whine, "What?" The dowager pointed to her, locking eyes with Zarbon, "Can you believe how stupid she truly is?" The dowagers eyes swiveled back to Bulma then, the ice behind them chilling Bulma right down to her soul, "I knew you would take pity on me, and I set up this whole thing. When Zarbon came to me a week ago with a proposition for how to finally rid myself of you, and that bastard that you are trying to pass off as my grandson's for good." The dowager's eyes flickered down to Bulma's stomach before they met with Bulma's again, her usual smirk a full on grin as she continued, "Do you think me stupid enough to be taken captive? No dear. That would be you."
The dowager shook her head, laughing, a cold sound that chilled Bulma to her bones. "And to think--I thought I was going to have sneak Zarbon throughout the house looking for you--but then you help us by sending all of the servants away and leaving only two--right here. You could not have made it more obvious that you were hiding in here somewhere." The dowager let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, "You really are that dim-witted."
Bulma's whole world shattered at that--she had fallen for it. She had fallen for the ruse of the dowager being in danger--Bulma Briefs had fallen for one of the oldest plays in the book. Right about then she really did feel as dull as the dowager thought she was. Really--she should have known the old crone would never cry or plead for her life. Still, knowing that did not stop her from whispering, "But I did it to save you."
The dowager shrugged, "Your problem. Not mine. You should have learned like I had to not to trust anyone but yourself." The dowager looked past Bulma, to where Zarbon was standing, smirking, "Take her away. I shall have an appropriate story about how you ransacked the place and knocked me unconscious by the time the men return."
Zarbon's voice was thick and compliant as he spoke, "An honor to work with an actress such as yourself, Your Grace. Truly--I could not have asked for a better partner." Bulma started as Zarbon raised the gun he had been holding at his side, cocking it next to her ear, as his voice turned honeyed, "But someone as smart as you can appreciate that I can't leave any loose ends." Before the dowager could even really register what was happening, or Bulma could scream--he pulled the trigger, and the dowager collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Zarbon's hand covered Bulma's mouth before the scream in her throat could leave her, as he whispered, "Don't fret Bulma, you won't ever have to see that wretched woman or her grandson ever again." Before Bulma could comprehend the fear she felt from that thought, Zarbon used the butt of the gun he had just shot to knock her against her head, the black nothing of unconsciousness claiming her.
~~&~~
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
"Why you stupid Monkey--he has gone after your wife. If I am right in my timing--they are already halfway to France by now."
The words echoed through Vegeta's mind, over and over, faster and faster like some sort of sick ride he could not get off--and before he knew it, or Frieza could grasp it, Vegeta had moved. Faster than he ever had, or ever would, in his life.
Vegeta went on instinct, needing to get out of the range of the gun, dropping to the ground, his leg shooting out as he turned, knocking Frieza off of his feet. Frieza was no fool, and was definitely not physically slow. He had been expecting this, jumping out of the way of Vegeta's outstretched leg.
Vegeta followed him back up, springing up to a standing position, before doing a high kick to knock the gun from Frieza's hand. The gun went sailing, flying to the mouth of the dummy tunnel. Frieza snarled as he looked back, "You will pay dearly for that," before he lunged for Vegeta, his hand open before he wrapped it around Vegeta's throat.
Vegeta could easily move out of the grasp--but before he went to do so, he felt the bite of metal against his flesh. Vegeta realized that Frieza had either razor sharp claws, or five little knives at the end of each of his fingers--all of which were now digging into this flesh. "Move and you tear your own throat out you stupid Monkey."
Vegeta hesitated for only a tenth of a second, formulating a way out of this. He took a calculated risk as he grabbed Frieza's hand at the wrist, Vegeta's other hand grabbing his arm, before he threw all of his weight back hitting the ground with Frieza on top of him. The move shocked Frieza enough that he let go as they both tumbled to the ground, Vegeta throwing his weight to this side this time so that t he was on top of Frieza. Vegeta quickly moved his legs up, pinning the monarch to the ground as he wrapped his own hands around Frieza's neck. Still, Vegeta did not squeeze, just looking into the man who had stolen his brother's life and was trying to destroy his own with an almost detached scientific evaluation, observing the flailing man underneath him, carefully weighing his action's here.
Frieza must have read his mind, because he let out the deplorable chuckle, even as Vegeta tightened his hand around the man's throat, "Go ahead. Kill me. You shall have the full weight of the Russian army against you and your country then. You will do me a favor and provoke my useless brother and father into a war I have long been urging them to wage."
The taunt flew over his head, Vegeta's steely resolve stopping him from responding to it. Frieza wanted him to react, and at that moment--Vegeta was beyond reaction. He needed to be. This was no longer about him or his life. So instead Vegeta stood, holding Frieza to him so he could not move, pinning his hands behind him, wishing he had some way of binding the man, but knowing he needed to keep moving if what Frieza had said about Bulma was true. Vegeta needed to get to her, he needed to find her and protect her.
He leant down only long enough to grab his gold plated sword, feeling the weight of it in his hand before he placed it in his scabbard, going for the gun Frieza had thrown next, holding it into Frieza's back, resisting the temptation to just cock it and pull the trigger--to kill the man right there and then to pay him back for every injustice done against Vegeta and his family. Instead Vegeta just used it to push Frieza forward as Vegeta started to walk.
"Move."
Frieza laughed as he was pushed forward, recognizing the feel of a gun muzzle at his back, "You are a bigger coward than I thought Vegeta. You should know that your government cannot imprison me--they would then have to admit to my killing the king. When they do that, your people shall see how weak your monarchy truly is, especially with no named heir--and before we know it, your whole country will up rise, and weaken itself just enough so I can have it. Or your people shall return me to my father, where I will be left to plot out my next plan for how to overthrow your government." He let out that cruel chuckle, "Really--there is no way for me to lose here."
Vegeta ignored the ache in his stomach, the gnawing anger that rushed through him, wanting him to kill, to maim, to murder, instead leading Frieza back to the main tunnel, where he found Kakarrot and Nappa searching for him. Nappa's eyes grew wide as he saw an alive Frieza being pushed ahead of Vegeta, but he only moved forward, taking the still talking monarch from Vegeta, a question in his eyes as he simply asked, "My lord? Where are we taking him?"
Vegeta sighed, rubbing his eyes, ignoring the gnawing blood lust in his stomach, the ignored beast clawing to be let free, "I don't know. I want to take him upstairs back to the brass--."
Frieza let out another laugh, cutting off Vegeta then, "You fools. They will have to let me go. You might have won today Vegeta--but I will be back. You will ensure that by taking me to the men upstairs." Frieza stopped then, his eyes large as he only said, "And by that time your wife shall be pregnant with my babe. Oh won't it be delicious. I know where she is--and you do not. Zhelonie might think he gets to keep her, but I've already decided that since you so obviously care for her I must have her. To break. Just like I did with your brother."
Kakarrot spoke then, looking at Vegeta as his hands fisted, "Vegeta--what is he talking about? Why is he speaking about Bulma like that?"
Frieza answered Kakarrot himself, that arrogant smirk still on his face despite being outnumbered three to one. "You must be the cousin I have heard so much about. You are as dumb of a monkey as he is--I have taken your sister hostage, and I plan on making her my new bride. Well, just long enough for her to birth me an heir or two--then I think I will return her to Vegeta much in the same way I returned his brother. I wonder if she shall scream and beg for her life as much as Tarb--."
Vegeta could not help the way his arm cocked back, or the way it swung, connecting right with Frieza's jaw. Frieza's head snapped back with the impact, Vegeta's hurting first well worth it as Frieza's body crumpled in Nappa's arms, completely unconscious.
Nappa looked at Vegeta, his trepidation clear as he tentatively put two fingers to Frieza's neck, breathing a sigh of relief after a second, "He is still alive." Nappa's whole hand flexed then wrapping itself around Frieza's neck, "But he doesn't have to be. Let me do it."
Vegeta waved his hand, rubbing the space between his eyes, "No. We must have him alive."
He could hear the frown in Nappa's voice, "Well we can't take him upstairs. He is right about them having to release him to his father."
Vegeta's eyes snapped open, the path ahead of him clear, "We cannot. We have to bring him with us. We need to go right now. He was not jesting about having Bulma, I fear. We need to get to the docks as soon as possible--I am not sure where in France Zhelonie is heading with her, but every second we waste down here is a second they have to disappear into France. Perhaps when we are on the Saiyan Lady we can persuade Frieza to talk--or use him to barter for Bulma."
Vegeta turned towards his cousin then, "You have been invaluable today--but you do not need to come with us now. I will use my men on the ship. Who knows how long we will be gone, and I need you here."
Kakarrot snapped then, his eyes moving from the knocked out monarch to his cousins, fire blazing in them. "With all due fucking respect you need me with you more than you need me here. Bulma is my sister. If what Frieza was saying is true--that Bulma has been taken, then it is just as much my job as it yours to save her." Kakarrot started to move then, authoritative and so unlike him as he spoke over his shoulder, "Now come on. I think I know a way we can catch up to them before they get to France."
Vegeta started, staring at the man with incredulity, "How?"
Kakarrot smirked then, stopping as he turned, looking so much like a Saiyan as he spoke with that cocky look on his face, "My sister's steam engine."
~~&~~
A/N: A few of you have been asking me about Bulma and what she has been up to. I've missed her too in these last few chapters, but she didn't fit into the action until the big reveal of her kidnapping. In all honestly, I do think if Bulma was not pregnant that she would be trying to fight Frieza and his men with Vegeta and Goku. But since she is...well, maybe in the next story? Still, I hope you have enough faith in me (and Bulma) to know she will never be the usual damsel in distress, or the expected hostage Zarbon thinks she will be.
Until next time!