GetBackers Fan Fiction / Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn to Danger ❯ Dilemma ( Chapter 7 )

Title: Drawn to Danger [7/8]

Author: Rubious

Series: Trigun & Get Backers

Rating: R

Warnings: angst, violence, humor, gunplay, AU-OOC.

Disclaimer: Trigun © Nightow. Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. All original characters including but not limited to Blaine, Lamassi, etc, are © Rubious and are not to be used without permission. This story is a work of fanfiction and is for entertainment purposes only.

Spoilers: Contains minor spoilers for both series.

Archive: fanfiction.net under "Rubious", mediaminer.org under "Rubious2", and my home page, Odango and Donuts, URL in bio info.

Notes: While on assignment with Ban and Ginji of the Get Backers, Meryl and Milly are drawn into danger as they meet old friends as well as foes in May City.

//thoughts//

* * * * *

As the two investigators resumed their task with a newfound urgency to detect a common bond among the myriad of reports, Milly paused and said quietly with concern in her voice, "I hope the guys catch whoever's responsible and that nobody ends up getting hurt."

To allay her associate's fears, Meryl replied pragmatically, "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll nab the robbers without any problem. Otherwise, Mr. Lamassi wouldn't have hired them for this job. Plus, Wolfwood's with them. We both know what he's capable of."

The brunette smiled at Meryl's reassuring words and got up to refill their mugs with hot coffee. Sitting back down, Milly picked up a file and briefly scanned it "Dunn Hill had a large cache of guns stolen from his business five months ago," she summarized.

Scribbling down names on a pad, her partner reasoned, "I think we can rule out small claims from homeowners and just concentrate on businesses and collectors." Separating the files to those criteria yielded a concise list, which she then planned to fax to the home office to see if they could provide any further information on the listed names.

She furrowed her brow as she stared at the sheet of paper, deep in thought. Reciting the names aloud, she found something oddly familiar about them. Dunn Hill was a town Deke Blaine had grown up in. Bo Fortune was similar to the name of a particular cologne that was favored by older men. Meryl smiled faintly as she recalled the memory of the masculine scent of Blaine as he taught her to shoot years before.

Shuffling the papers into an orderly stack, Milly glanced at a notation on the report on the top of the pile. "This is really interesting, Meryl. The stolen weapons from the Little Jersey robbery were linked to the massacre at the school where my sister taught. She was wounded in that attack. I definitely want to see the criminals who provided the guns caught and brought to justice for her sake."

"You haven't really talked about her lately. Is she doing better?" Meryl asked in a caring voice.

"She's back teaching, but the whole thing really traumatized her," the brunette answered.

Looking at her partner over tented fingers, the senior investigator hypothesized that there might be something more than just these robberies, which probably could be traced to a slew of other crimes. "You know, Milly, these are probably just the tip of the iceberg," Meryl said speculatively.

Staring at the list again, Meryl conjectured that most of the names were pseudonyms. They seemed to be connected to Deke Blaine in various ways, therefore, she reasoned that Blaine had submitted the claims using different aliases. Jumping up, she grabbed Milly and exclaimed, "Blaine's the man behind this! We gotta track him down before he tries to leave town!"

After furiously jotting down a note, Meryl hustled over to the hotel's front desk and had them fax the urgent message to the Bernardelli home office in December. Milly had gone to their suite to retrieve their weapons and coats before joining her in the lobby. The two women arranged for a hotel employee to drive them over to the Shooters Service warehouse across town.

* * *

While medical personnel tended to Ban's wounds in the rain and prepared to load him into an ambulance for transport to the hospital, Ginji thought he caught a glimpse of Akabane in the crowd. He had seen the casket warehouse truck parked nearby. The sense of knowing the mysterious Doctor Jackal was near yet remaining unseen disconcerted him.

Stealing up behind Ginji like an elusive wraith, Akabane whispered, "Ah, it is too bad Ban-kun was hurt. I'll have to wait for him to heal. When I fight either of you, it makes me stronger. I look forward to facing you in the future" His words surprised the Get Backer, who was shaken by Jackal's abrupt appearance.

When Ginji turned around to reply, the dangerous man had disappeared in the misty rain through the crowd. He regained his composure and accompanied his wounded partner on the ambulance ride to the hospital.

More ambulances had arrived to transport the other casualties, the most serious of which were the two bandits who had been burned and were in critical condition.

At that time, the Bernardelli agents reached the Shooters Service warehouse. They noted the damage that had occurred as a result of the aborted robbery and ensuing confrontation. It was comparable to the destruction wrought by greedy bounty hunters, who had trashed entire towns in their quest to claim the bounty on Vash the Stampede.

Viewing the devastation, Meryl knew that her employer would be liable to pay the damages. //If we can stop any future fraudulent claims and nab Blaine, then whatever cost is incurred in this case is worth it.//

"Now we need to find Wolfwood, Ban, and Ginji," Meryl said resolutely. She was eager to share her findings with the men and set out to capture the alleged culprit behind the series of thefts.

On the edge of the crowd, the man who had concocted the insurance fraud scheme felt drawn to observe the results of the failed robbery like a person gawking at the carnage of a deadly automobile accident or a train wreck. He felt an odd thrill because nobody-the insurance company or the police or anyone else for that matter-had connected him as the guiding force behind the crimes.

His confidence was at a high level. Though the robbery attempt by the Bad Lads had gone awry, it was a minor stumbling block in his bid to reap riches. The schemer knew it would be fairly easy to find gullible underlings to do his bidding by dangling enough money before them.

In an effort to keep from getting drenched from the rain and also to remain unnoticed, Blaine pulled his jacket over his head to act as a makeshift hood. He decided against adding his shades to his disguise since wearing the sunglasses would be conspicuous when the weather was overcast and stormy. Seeing the Bernardelli agents arrive in an excited state, the man decided it was time to make an undetected exit.

As he edged away from the vicinity of the warehouse, Blaine pondered the situation. Meryl was a crack shot. //She should be since I trained her.// He gloated inwardly. In conversations he had had with Neon, the outlaw had given him the rundown on a number of people who might be in May City for the tournament. The preacher the agents were talking to was an excellent marksman. Neon had mentioned the ruse Wolfwood and Vash had pulled at the previous year's Quick Draw Tournament, so Blaine figured that he would be a force to be reckoned with. The unknown was the second insurance investigator, the tall brunette.

* * *

At the same time when Blaine was watching the scene, the insurance agents had finally located Wolfwood, as he was about to leave to meet them. He had checked on Ban's status with Ginji before the ambulance transported the wounded teen to the hospital for treatment.

Milly gasped, "Mr. Priest, we're glad we found you. We've got some important news."

Meryl's blue-gray eyes brightened as she proudly made her announcement. "We figured out who the mastermind is behind all of the thefts. It was Deke Blaine." She watched the preacher closely for his reaction.

"Good work. That matches the information I picked up on the identity of the scumbag who planned all this shit," Wolfwood replied.

Her curiosity piqued at hearing the preacher's disclosure, the petite woman asked, "How'd you find out it was Blaine?"

"From him," the grinning blue-eyed minister said, gesturing towards the unconscious form of Brilliant Dynamites Neon being toted on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. The paramedics strained to carry the barrel-chested outlaw in his gaudy outfit, though the remaining dynamo had been detached from his shoulder to make it easier for the EMTs to lift him onto the stretcher.

Wolfwood lit a cigarette, took a drag from it and then continued, "I heard his confession before he fell unconscious. It was right after Ginji zapped him with a bolt of electricity."

"Ginji did what?' interjected Milly.

"You wouldn't believe that a gentle kid like him wields such enormous power," the preacher stated. He then recounted the events of the confrontation with the Bad Lads to the two women.

"How's Ban doing now?" Milly asked in a concerned tone.

"The paramedics told me he'll pull through; the wound wasn't life-threatening. I plan on stopping by the hospital later to visit him."

"I'm glad to hear he wasn't hurt seriously, but we have to turn our attention to nabbing Blaine quickly before he leaves town," Meryl said, shifting the topic of conversation. She went on to describe Blaine's appearance to Wolfwood and Milly

"So this old friend of yours has turned out to be a real slimy character," the preacher remarked.

"That seems to be the case," she replied.

"Let's nail that bastard to the wall," Wolfwood said as he proceeded to check the Cross-Punisher's ammunition supply.

While the other two conferred, Milly scrutinized the gathered onlookers for any sign of the wanted man. She observed someone walking away nonchalantly from the crowd and noticed that he fit the description of Blaine. The brunette said excitedly. "I think I see him leaving on the other side of the crowd."

Though the rain didn't give her a clear view, Meryl looked in the direction that Milly indicated and locked gazes with the man, confirming the identification.

Knowing that he had been spotted, Blaine realized the jig was up. His scheme had been foiled, so he decided to make a quick exit. //I better go before they're on my trail. Besides, there are pigeons waiting to be plucked in any town I go to and their money will pad my bank account.//

"After him!' Meryl yelled as the trio set off in pursuit

Quickening his pace, Blaine scanned the surroundings for a possible escape route. Rounding a corner, he stumbled and fell in the street. He regained his footing and continued running. Turning into an alley that dead-ended he thought would be a shortcut was a crucial mistake. Realizing his error, he backtracked and ended straight in the path of his three pursuers.

"There he is!" Wolfwood shouted, firing a warning burst above the fleeing man's head. He could have easily killed the target, but Blaine was of more use to them alive in order to provide some much-needed answers.

Hearing the bullets whiz by above him, Blaine paused for a second near a warehouse and glanced back over his shoulder at the trio. He saw the taller woman readying a bulky weapon from its holder and held it to her shoulder. Standing transfixed as Milly fired the stun gun, he was dumbfounded by the sight of the projectile spreading out on its flight towards him. The bracket's eight prongs surrounded his torso, his arms confined to his side. The impact from the collision knocked him against the building, pinioning him to the adobe wall where he was immobilized.

"Good shot, Milly." Meryl congratulated her partner.

"Thanks," the tall brunette replied, high-fiving Wolfwood.

"Let's go get some answers," Meryl said seriously as she moved towards the captured con artist, stopping about five feet away from him. Though the man was pinned against a wall, she wasn't going to risk being close enough where he could try to kick her or lash out with any hidden weapons. Out of respect to his mercenary background, Meryl was wary of the man and what he was capable of doing.

Water puddled on the pavement as the rain began falling harder. Glaring at her former instructor, whose neutral expression showed no indication of panic or worry, "Meryl demanded, "Why did you hire the Bad Lads to rob the warehouse?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled defiantly.

Infuriated, Meryl pointed at him and summarized the accusations, "You engineered a scheme to defraud the Bernardelli Insurance Society out of hundreds of thousands of double-dollars with false theft claims. Besides benefiting from the claims, you also split the ill-gotten gains from the sale of the stolen weapons with the thieves."

Blaine snickered, "That's ludicrous. You have no proof. You girls must've dreamed up these fairy tale explanations to impress your bosses at the insurance company."

Without his accusers being aware, the entrepreneur tested how tightly he was pinned against the wall by the projectile. Its prongs had become embedded in the soft adobe wall of the building, but the moisture from the drizzle had loosened them a tiny bit. If it continued to rain, he might be able to flex his muscles and free himself from his predicament. He decided to keep his opponents distracted from his attempt to free himself by keeping up a steady argument.

"You want proof? I'll give it to you," the petite investigator said angrily. She reeled off the list of aliases and their connection to him.

"Bullshit. I have no idea who Bo Fortune or Dunn Hill are," he chided.

"I'm looking at them right now," she said bluntly, staring at the accused man. The woman brushed away a strand of hair that had matted on her forehead by the rain.

"Prove it in court."

Stepping forward, the preacher declared, "We've got the goods on you, Blaine. Brilliant Dynamites Neon confessed that you were the mastermind behind the robberies and that you were going to split the money from the gun sales with him." Wolfwood spoke with the satisfied smile of someone who had just pounded a wooden stake into the heart of a vampire.

"Who'd believe a lowlife like Neon? He'd probably say anything to save his own neck from the hangman's noose," Blaine retorted. With his body pinned to the wall, he wished he could move his arms to relieve the irritation caused by the rough texture of the adobe bricks rubbing against his back.

"I'm sure the authorities will get a full statement from him while he's recuperating in the hospital," the preacher said matter-of-factly. "Face it, you've been caught dead to rights."

Wondering why such an upstanding member of the community would resort to an elaborate scheme, Meryl demanded, "Why would anybody do such a thing?"

Without weighing the consequences of his words, the man answered, "The high cost of success. I'm a wealthy merchant who owns several gun shops over the years, but I was leveraged to the hilt with debt in order to expand my business and to maintain the comfortable lifestyle I'd become accustomed to. The banks wouldn't extend me any more lines of credit and were demanding immediate payment or they'd begin to repossess my assets." Pausing, he blinked to clear his eyes of the raindrops trickling down his forehead. He continued his explanation in a confident voice, "So I concocted this ingenious scheme of faking robberies of my stores to collect the insurance money and then making scads of dough from selling the `stolen' weapons,"

Wolfwood rolled his eyes at hearing the dubious story. //Blaine's got an ego as wide as a canyon and an appetite for greed to match. He's so full of himself. I bet he didn't realize that he just put himself on a silver platter.//

Fists clenched at her sides, Meryl seethed at Blaine's braggadocio and hoped to see the braggart's ego deflated quickly.

The light rain had turned into a steady drizzle when Milly revealed, "We discovered that the weapons from one of the robberies had been linked to the Little Jersey school massacre. My sister was wounded in the attack. I hold you directly responsible for all of the misery that my sister has suffered through."

Wolfwood's face darkened to match the storm-filled sky above as he lamented, "What about all of the innocent children and teachers who were killed? And the survivors who'll be scarred forever, emotionally and physically? You don't give a damn about the victims. You only care about chasing after the almighty double-dollar." He restrained himself from pulling the trigger or Blaine would be a tattered corpse at that moment.

"I do care. I made a $$20 contribution to the memorial fund," Blaine deadpanned.

Milly felt disdain for him.//With all of his resources, he's not a very compassionate person.// She glanced at each of her friends and saw their angry expressions.

Hearing enough from the smug merchant, Milly screamed, "You bastard!" Wolfwood cast a quick peek over at the brunette upon hearing her curse.

Blaine chuckled at the outraged trio. "I'm not responsible for anyone's death since I didn't kill anyone. Why should I regret it?"

His eyes blazing with contempt, the preacher insisted, "If you knew what the punks were going to use the guns for, why didn't you try to stop them?"

Blaine retorted, "I'm just a businessman trying to get ahead in this world by whatever means possible. What a customer does with a firearm after purchasing it from my store is none of my concern. If people use my guns to commit crimes, it's not my problem." Guffawing, he added, "It's not my moral responsibility to legislate people's lives. I believe that's your area of expertise, Padre," referring to the preacher in a condescending manner.

Digesting the man's barbed remarks, Wolfwood muttered, "You don't care about the victims or anyone else. Just the money." He'd like to see the accursed man dead. The image of Blaine's limp corpse swinging from a gallows, twisting in the wind, popped into his mind.

Listening to the exchange between the two men, Meryl seethed at her former tutor's egotism. A man she once held in high regard had become a monster, only out for selfish gain at the expense of others. Glancing at her friends, she noted the fury etched on their faces from hearing the impact of Blaine's schemes had had on loved ones and innocents.

With a hardened expression, Meryl snapped, "I'll celebrate the day when the cops lock you up in prison and throw away the key. I despise you."

Through the rain, she couldn't discern the defiant gaze on Blaine's face. "You overlooked one crucial detail, how to work the system to your benefit. I'd only be in jail for a short time. Even if I was incarcerated, I'd be able to run my operation by proxy through some very capable attorneys." He took a breath and continued, "Don't you know it'd be futile for the authorities to imprison me? I'd be in a minimum-security prison since they'd only have me sentenced for insurance fraud. It's not like I'm one of those violent criminals like serial killers or rapists that the authorities should keep locked up."

Meryl contemplated Blaine's insolent attitude and what would be her next course of auction when her thoughts were sidetracked by his uttering in a hubristic voice, "Come to think of it, you've pointed out some of the things I've done wrong. I'll never make those same mistakes again; it'll be even less likely I'll be caught the next time."

As he spoke, Meryl, Milly, and Wolfwood stood speechless in the steady downpour. Blaine's words were laced with an arrogance that oozed like pus seeping from an open sore.

Blaine smirked as he imagined the expressions of his adversaries' faces. //That admission got the desired result. Now to keep `em talking while I wiggle loose from this damned metal bracket.// The poor visibility in the pouring rain benefited him because his opponents did not have a clear view of his hands as he tried to free himself.

Addressing his former student, Blaine tried a different tactic to win his freedom. "You know, I could make your life a lot easier. Name your price. I'll peel off a large wad of double-dollars from my bankroll and give it to you to make it worth your while if you set me free and allow me to go on my way."

Meryl fumed when she was offered the bribe. "How dare you! You have some nerve."

Blaine interrupted her by making his pitch to Milly. "I'm sure a secretary at Bernardelli doesn't make much more than minimum wage. How about it? Will you accept my offer?"

"No way. Nobody's sunk as low as you," she replied, firmly.

After Milly refused the bribe, the persuasive criminal switched his attention to Wolfwood. "Hey, aren't you the itinerant preacher who's been in town the last few days seeking donations for orphans?" Wolfwood grunted. `Perhaps I could make a sizable donation to the orphanage?" he asked convincingly.

The preacher declined the donation, "Besides being a man of the cloth, I'm also a man whose integrity can't be bought. I won't accept any damned blood money even if it's intended for a worthy cause."

"Just think of those poor kids going hungry and sleeping in a cold building," he said, trying to induce a guilt-ridden reply.

"To hell with you, Blaine," Meryl roared angrily. "You're scum of the earth with your dirty bribes." She no longer held any shred of respect for a man whom she had admired when she was younger. He was now a heinous crook, trampling others in a mad rush for greed. Prison was too good for him, but what could be done with him?

Blaine, clandestinely wriggling against the bracket in an effort to break free, decided to take a different approach now that his attempt at direct bribery had failed. He interrupted her thoughts. "You might not need the money for yourself, but what about your parents? I heard that their house was almost foreclosed upon because they fell behind on their mortgage and paying their medical bills."

Blue-gray eyes grew wide at hearing his words. "How did you know about their medical bills?" she asked anxiously.

"I overheard a loan officer at the bank say something about it when I was negotiating terms for a business line of credit," he said quickly.

"I don't believe you." Shaking her head in disbelief, the petite woman hadn't disclosed the full details about her parents or their financial situation to anyone. She found it unlikely that a loose-lipped banker would gossip about clients while others eavesdropped; it was a breach of confidentiality. Meryl deduced that Blaine must have had some inside information or a personal connection to the circumstances that had caused her family so much misery.

Meryl paused and reflected on her parents. Her father had suffered a coronary two years ago and had incurred huge medical bills from his long medical stay and subsequent visits to the cardiologist. The heart attack had incapacitated him, leaving him unable to work. As a result, he received a disability pension to subsist on. The circumstances forced her mother to seek work to help pay the bills. In the meantime, her father had shrived to a mere shell of his once vibrant self. [1]

Listening to the exchange, Wolfwood looked confused and asked, "What's this got to do with anything

Turning to Wolfwood, she remarked, "Dad mentioned he had invested their nest egg in a business that went bankrupt. He worked so much overtime to make up for the lost income, but he suffered a heart attack from too much stress and ended up in the hospital."

Laughing, Blaine replied smugly, "It's sweeter when you bilk your friends out of their life's savings. I did send your father a get well card when he was hospitalized."

The rain was falling in torrents. Meryl's fury matched the intensity of the thunderstorm overhead as lightning crackled in the distance. "Damn you to hell! I've had enough of you fucking bastard! In her agitated state, her sense of judgment had become clouded. Without thinking clearly, she pointed one of her derringers at him, her hands shaking unsteadily with rage.

Feeling the bracket that confined him loosening from the adobe wall unbeknownst to Milly, Meryl, and Wolfwood, Blaine decided now was the moment to break free and escape. His attempts to convince the others to free him had failed. He had the physical advantage over the small woman and could easily overpower her with his strength. He counted on the fact that the sight of him breaking free would stun her two friends and hence, they would be slow to intervene.

After taking a deep breath, Blaine flexed his elbows and pushed out his chest, bursting forth from his confined position against the wall; the metal bracket that held him clattered to the ground. Milly and Wolfwood were startled by the sudden noise and took a step backwards.

With an adrenaline rush, Blaine lunged towards the black-haired woman in an attempt to wrest the derringer away from her. The desperate man lost his footing on the rain-slicked pavement. As he slipped, his arms flailed about and his torso collided with the diminutive woman in a frantic reach for her pistol.

Meryl stood motionless, dumbstruck by the sudden attack. As she felt his bulk collide with her, she instinctively pulled the trigger of her derringer in an effort to protect herself.

The .22 caliber bullet passed through Blaine's chest and pierced his heart. He sagged against Meryl, his wound staining her sodden white cloak crimson as the vital fluid exited his body.

He tried to mouth words, but only gurgled an unintelligible mumble. One of his final thoughts was that the once infatuated girl he had taught to shoot actually had the audacity to shoot him. The last image Deke Blaine saw was a stray raindrop running down his former student's face before he crumpled lifelessly into a puddle of bloody rain.

As quickly as a lightning bolt arcing through the night sky, it was over in an instant. Milly had no chance to shout a warning to her partner. She had never seen anyone who had been captured in the bracket break free from its grip. In the moment that followed after the fatal gunshot rang out, their shocked reaction switched to concern while they rushed over to check on their colleague's safety.

Bending down, Wolfwood placed two fingers against the man's jugular and confirmed the nonexistent pulse. Nodding to the two women, the preacher stood up and stated flatly, "He's dead."

Hearing the succinct declaration of death combined with the images of the corpse before her and her drenched, blood-splattered cloak to strike Meryl with the cold impact of what had just happened registered on her mind. "What have I done?" she wailed as she collapsed against Wolfwood. Realizing that she had killed another human being, Meryl beseeched, "Please forgive me God."

"He will," Wolfwood said, consoling her. Milly hugged her distraught friend in a comforting embrace, whispering words of reassurance. In the distance, sirens blared from ambulances carrying the injured from the warehouse confrontation to the hospital.

Feeling the rain lightening up a little, the preacher glanced upward and prayed, "Look, Lord, I don't ask for much, but please let the rain wash away some of the pain." He then turned his attention to the sobbing woman in his arms.

* * * * *

To be continued

Author's Note

[1] Because Nightow never specified any information about Meryl's parents, their background has been created for this story.

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