Diamond Waltz
By: Michelle Ulmer
The trumpet echoed loudly through the red brick walled room. Upon the walls where posters of past and present Jazz bands, artists, each with a unique name that fitted only them.
In the center of the room a band featured on one of the many posters played a tune that could easily catch anyone's eyes onto them and make people tap there fingers to the beat. Though one pair of amber eyes was not on the band, rather yet a tall, slender, black haired man appearing to be in his mid thirties.
"I found him." the owner of the eyes said into a communicator loud enough to be heard over the roar of the trumpets, bass, and other musical instruments. This man appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, upon his scalp was a mass of deep green hair that looked as if it was washed well but never brushed.
After he took a glance at the man he glanced down at the communicators screen. There upon it was a slightly older, well muscled, gentleman, a black beard pointed near the joint of his jaw. He had a grin on his face as he spoke, "Alright, Spike, after the show is over, follow him until I message you. I will be waiting on the intersection of Elm and First. I will be in the Hammerhead for you to come with Warren in your hands. Got that? And remember we have one-hundred million woolongs counting on this bud."
Spike's grin grew slightly as he turned his attention to the band playing, "Oh don't worry Jet, I got this under control. "
"Well you better," and after Jet's words the communicators screen flicked off only to leave a few moments of static till any picture was gone. Afterwards Spike placed the communicator into one of the pockets of his cobalt toned suit. Underneath this suit he wore a plain banana yellow work shirt, and black tie, each fitting well with this suit, which one collar of the coat was over turned, while the other seemed to never even been there in the first place.
In only a half an hour the Jazz bands performance was over. Many people stood and many people clapped. Spike though had is attention on something other then the Jazz band.
He soon began to follow the tall male's steps out the door. A cocky grin upon his face as he began to stride steadily through the crowd that was beginning to poor form there seats and out into the open air.
After the slight struggle Spike reached the outside world .Glancing for his target which he was following earlier. He quickly found him wavering into an alleyway between an unnamed building and the nightclub where he just arrived from. His only choice was to follow and that is what he did.
As he walked, his steps where not silent, nor careful. His strides where long though as he tried to keep up with the surprisingly swift paced target.
Then both came to a dead end. Spike was only a silhouette against the light from the streets from the bounty's eyes. And just as luminous as he looked, his movements where not faltered as he swiftly grabbed his gun from the hostler hidden beneath his suit. He held it forwards, aimed perfectly with the man's head.
"Alright, Warren, we can end this easily, or we can end it hard." Spike said with the cocky grin still placed firmly on his face.
Afterwards the man titled Warren seemed to get the sure grin as well. His hands went smoothly into his pockets; yet little worry where seen in his emerald eyes.
"You bounty hunters are all alike." he said with a menacing chuckle, "Looks through your eye always fade out the truth."
Abruptly with Warrens words sudden clicks sounded throughout the alleyway. Afterwards a light was placed on Spike, easily allowing him to be seen through the darkness.
As the light was placed on himself, he recoiled his arm upwards, hoping to block as much of the blinding light as possible. Afterward what he saw where black cloaked figures, each strategically placed around spike, and each holding guns to his cranium. Then he turned back to Warren, his menacing emerald eyes locked on Spike, his grin fitting perfectly with the rest of his expressions. There was only one thing Spike could do at this moment and that was run.
The explosions of gun shots resounded through the alleyway. The light following Spike as his long quick strides began to carry him away from the line of fire. He rolled forward once, evading a line of bullets that sped past but as he resumed his sprinting, another gun shot was heard and a bullet flew through his right shoulder. Spike cringed as the blood began to flow from the injury but he kept running, experience taught him if you stop, you will die.
He soon erupted from the fire of bullets and gunshots, his one hand clenching his wound as he ran. In only moments he reached the road nearest him, the bullets still flying past his swift movements. Afterwards he leaped over an old car and onto the black top road, the road clearly labeled Elm. His eyes darted to the street sign, which beside Elm was labeled First St. Spike, soon ran to his originally specified destination. He glanced back once only to see men of different hair tones darting from the alley, guns in hand. He then returned back to running.
There a little away from the intersection he spotted Jet's craft and his stride became quicker as he made to life or death dash.
Inside Jet spotted his partner, and the three guards, holding guns that followed. Immediately he started the engines up, the flares from the booster causing the surrounding air to appear like the surface of pond water. Then the hammerhead lifted upwards quickly and at that moment Spike reached the craft and leaped upon it. His fingers clenching, trying to get a hold upon the smooth metal surface. His legs lifted upwards and he climbed fully onto the front of the craft. The three men still holding the holding guns watched the two bounty hunters rise far above them. A look of achievement on there faces.
An over agitated look was upon Spike's face back on the old fishing space craft, The Bebop. He sat there upon the yellow couch. His upper arm and right chest where covered tightly in plain white bandages. A slight amount of blood stains seen around the area where he was shot earlier.
Coming smoothly in the room was Faye. In her usual yellow, reveling cloths, and red coat that covered only her arms, the rest dangling behind her. A casual grin soon curved her lips till she came around the couch to look at Spike from the side. At that time, some of her dark hair falling forward.
"Well.how many times have I seen this?" she said with a mocking tone that matched her grin, "Poor baby."
"Can it Faye!" Spike said with a yell blended with his words. After that Faye came around the metallic table in front of the injured Spike and sat limply onto the chair in front of him, easily sipping a drink.
"So the almighty Spike Spiegel got beaten up by a puny thing like Warren," she said with a smirk glancing at Spike.
"Like I said Faye! Can it! Besides he had an group of body guards waiting for me!" Spike soon turned his attention to Jet slowly who was walking into the room. Then back to Faye whose smirk seemed to fade with curiosity.
"Why would a runt like him have body guards?" Faye asked slowly now glancing up to Jet who soon sat down next Spike with out a sound.
"It is simple, he gave them something the syndicate wanted and for return, he got protection." Jet announced as he began to type swiftly on the computer before him. Then a screen familiar to them appeared with data on there bounty, "Warren Carisoné, thief for the finer arts and priceless items. A while back he smuggled a rare gem and along with many other rare and priceless items. The gem is called the Dragons Eye, it was created during the gate disaster a while back. It is still by this day the largest ever found and the renowned Black Phoenix, a large syndicate wanted as well."
"So Jet, you are saying that this guy sold it to the syndicate or what?" Faye grumbled as she leaned lazily into the chair, legs crossed in a usual fashion. She took another quick sip of her soda as she glanced over to Spike, "So you where shot by his little friends?" Her grin was holding a laugh which one could easily see could come out at any moment.
"Warren Warren near Bebop Bebop!" a young voice called out through the ships hull as a red head no older then thirteen came storming in, a corgi, which was obviously a puppy at heart followed her with the utmost enthusiasm.
Immediately as the child known as Ed came storming in Spike, Jet, and Faye turned to look at her, each following her hyper, aimless child movements.
She then turned to the bandaged Spike, "Lunk-head got shot again didn't he?" after those words she scurried up near Spike. "Kiss Kiss will make hurt go away!" Ed said as she soon lifted the corgi to Spikes face. Once the canine was at eye level he opened his mouth and let his tongue roll out, afterwards licking the bush haired man in the face a few times before he recoiled.
"Ed, that is disgusting!" Spike and turned away but soon turned back to the child, "What do you mean he is near the Bebop?!"
"Ed was curious on Warren and searched up his data files why you where away! After that Ed found where he sleeps at night! It's an old syndicate owned apartment at the edge of city!" the child said with an overly large grin on her face as she did a few cartwheels towards Faye. She then climbed up the edge of the chair the women sat upon and went up and over, now peering at Faye upside down, "Did Faye Faye have fun at the casinos? Did Faye bring Ed presents?"
Immediately after those words Faye lifted her hand and tried to latch onto Ed's white T-shirt collar but the young girl just leaped from her place onto the ground. Soon the women turned to peer at Jet then Spike, each of them had an angered look upon there faces.
"Faye.where did you get the money for the casinos?" Jet asked in a frighteningly calm tone.
"Yes Faye do tell." Spike mentioned as a grin curved his lips yet in his eyes anyone could see the fire of anger.
"Well.boys, I think I have to go.you know people to meet places to see." she said with a fake grin on her face. She stood her hands locking behind herself as she jumped from her chair hastily and she raced towards the hangar.
The work which becomes a new genre itself will be called COWBOY BEBOP
"How much did she loose us at the casino this time?" Spike asked as he slipped on his Jacket. Cringing as he put his injured arm through the sleeve.
"Five thousand woolongs," Jet growled as he scratched the corgi, known as Ein, behind the ears, "so have to bag this guy got it? Otherwise that bitch is going to cost us more then she is worth"
Spike smirked as he soon sat and began to load his trusty gun, "Don't worry Jet, when have I let you down?"
"That is what I am worried about. Alright anyway, he is at the top floor, so obviously you are going have to run through an army of guards. But I suspect when you reach the top floor you should be home free and be able to grab our one-hundred million woolongs." Jet sighed lightly, "Remember he is no use to us dead."
"All this for some money?" a feminine voice said in the background, "I doubt you will make it out of this one Spike.I know you too well you are to. reckless."
"Well if I don't make it out Faye, will you come to my funeral?" Spike gave an amused smile as he stood up and head towards the refrigerator. He opened the door, in there he pulled out a bag which he carried back to his place onto the couch. There he let it loose and about five grenades toppled out.
"Yah like we could afford one," Faye grumbled as she turned away, lifting her hands and putting a lit cigarette between her lips.
"Well whose fault would that be?" Jet asked in hardly mused tone.
"Not mine.," Faye retorted as she took a drag form her cigarette, "After all I am not the one who has not been grabbing the bounties lately." After those words she breathed out, letting a cloud of smoke erupt from her lips and glide through the air.
Jet grumbled and turned to Spike who had already stood and placed his tan trench coat upon himself. Spike blinked as he put his hands in his pockets, without a word he began to walk.
"Good luck kid." Jet mentioned as he leaned into his chair.
Spike stopped briefly only to continue on. He soon passed Faye on the way but the women said nothing, only blowing smoke in the air from her cigarette as he made his way to the hanger. Spike was now out of sight from both Jet and Faye.
The hanger opened slowly. The evening Martian light swept through the hanger only to reveal a light red, one man, space craft which was currently rolling out to the take off point on The Bebop. With its aerodynamic shape, one could easily see that this craft was built for speed and maneuverability.
Inside its cockpit sat Spike. He leaning forward, hands covered in brown leather gloves that would easily grasp the steering. He lifted one hand and pressed a few buttons on the control panel and soon let his hand once again rest on the steering of the ship he named the Swordfish. Moments Later the wings unfolded from above and locked firmly into place. Then two panels at the rear engine lifted slightly and a blast of light blue and white flames erupted out. Then moments later the ship took flight, the wheels lifting into there own compartments.
His destination was clearly seen off in the distance. A fairly tall building, which its peak towered above the much smaller buildings and homes near it. As soon as he saw this, Spike had a sudden feeling lurch inside his stomach, but he only covered it up with his grin.
Spike landed the Swordfish at the nearest space he could, although this space was where a car would be parked, this was an obvious traffic blocker, but Spike only started to whistle a tune when he leapt from the cockpit. He stopped abruptly before entering the doors, his hands burying deep in the pockets of his trench coat. He peered up at the top of the stone and glass building, and smirked, "So, the very top Jet?"
Then after those words he walked forth, pushing himself through the doors with very little care in his eyes. Immediately he caught the attention of those about. Mainly those who where dressed formally in black coats, pants, and white shirts. There eyes narrowed and a few pulled there guns out slightly.
Spike noticed this sudden change in expression and braced himself yet nothing happened as he walked towards the elevator. Not even a whisper caught his ears. He pressed the upwards button, eyes and ears alert yet still all he got where stares. He questioned this but soon walked forth into the elevator as its doors opened.
The doors soon closed and he looked at the panel of buttons. He noticed the highest number of one hundred and twenty two, so he fully expected this to be his target level and soon pressed his index finger against the circular button.
He felt his stomach drop as the elevator lifted. Eyes watching the numbers that passed with each moment as he continued up onto other floors.
Abruptly the elevator stopped without warning on level one hundred and twenty. Alarms where clearly heard outside its door and Spike glanced around only to try and pry open the doors, but with no avail. He peered upwards and noticed the emergency door as his escape route. Spike lifted himself up, smashing through the door. Immediately afterwards he felt the pain from his injury that he received from this same group earlier and cringed, kneeling over slightly. He though straightened himself and took a deep breath. The bounty hunter then glanced to his side, noticing the doors that led out to this level.
Spike pried the doors open and soon leapt out, bringing his hand guns up from there hostlers, and then he fired as a bullet flew past his already scratched face. The sound of ones in pain was heard as a man dressed in the black syndicate garb dropped to the floor, bleeding, and his gun dropped from his hand. The bounty hunter turned abruptly and fired his guns and again like before another man fell to the floor, blood pouring from his wounds. Spike turned glancing from side to side yet seeing no one that appeared from the corners. He ran, following the signs that clearly said stairs.
Another few moments passed and more gunshots where heard behind him through the wide hall way. He swiftly moved around the corner, the bullets grazing against the dry wall. The repeating sound of many foot steps where soon heard Spike brought out grenade, his only choice at the moment. His teeth bit and pulled the ring and he tossed the explosive around the corner and ran. His legs carrying him far and the grand explosion which was heard behind him. Flames then slashed through the air and made there way toward Spike far faster then he could run. In only a brief second he was carried with the flames and slammed against the wall, back first. The man slid down and landed slowly on his head.
He fell back onto his knees, pain from both old and new injuries where easily felt but he stood; constantly reminding himself that there is one-hundred million woolongs on the line for this.
The heat of the flames engulfed the surrounding area but Spike once again began to run, soon making it to the steps. He hears nothing through the constant cackle of fire and for brief moment halted his running, taking a breath of the non smoke engulfed air. As he did his right hand held limply at his side, the slight trickle of blood now falling down to his index finger, beads of sweat following the same motion down the side of his face. He took another deep breath of air and walked at a fast pace up the stairs, his hand guns still held tightly in his hands.
The bounty hunter reached eye line with the top of the stair case and he saw many waiting for him there. His eyes narrowed as he fired his gun, his shots missing many times from there trajectory. Many fell to the ground yet a few stood still firing there guns at there opposition. He lifted his hands and fired at the remaining few who remained. Then the last one remaining pulled the trigger of his gun at the last seconds of his life, the bullet puncturing the side of Spike's stomach.
Spike soon lurched over from the pain and looked up, himself cringing heavily, the blood from the new wound felt on his hand. He growled and continued forward, now taking deep breaths as he began to walk now. The pain was intense but he nor wished to die at the moment, but rather wished the bathe in the woolongs that where his payoff.
He walked up another flight of stairs slowly, and noticed his target room at the end of the hallway. All he could see was a door well carved by some person which was quite experienced. Near the door his sharp eyes noticed a pair of men, each holding there guns outwards at Spike. There eyes far from amused as they fired.
Spike ducked, the bullets missing his hair by inches. He took a deep breath and held his gun outwards, and fired many times, three of his shots embedded themselves in the ones who opposed himself, the others where completely off target and went straight into the oak wood door.
He stood and walked forth, soon passing the guards. He looked down at each and then pushed himself through the bullet smashed doors. He looked forward into the room, it was lavishly decorated with rare paintings and other rare artifacts. The bed made out of pure oak and its sheets where made form the finest silk and other comfortable materials. There sitting before Spike on a bench was his target throughout this whole excursion.
Warren appeared to be like demon, only his silhouette and emerald green eyes seen through the growing shadows of the room. Then a familiar click was heard against Spike's ears. Warren now stood before Spike, his gun held outwards towards the mans head head. The bounty figure then pulled the trigger, the crash was heard and Spike moved out of the way, the bullet streaming through the side of his head and bringing a few strands of his forest toned hair and some flesh form his cheek along with it .
"Yes, you are the Spike Spiegel, "he laughed menacingly, "Isn't it amazing what one crime syndicate will do for a single gem stone and a few priceless paintings?" With his words he held out his hand, his attention placed upon the entire room.
"What is my name to you? " Spike asked as he clenched a hand over his stomach injury.
"Quite much you see, I always enjoy knowing the names of the ones who hunt me down" once again he released a mere chuckle and pulled the trigger of his hand gun. Spike noticed the finger twitch and dipped to the ground, suddenly feeling the sudden sting of bullet grazing his back. Once he hit the ground his guns where held outwards and he too pulled the triggers. The bullets flew through the air and one landed directly in Warren's leg, the others had obviously missed the designated target by feet and inches.
Warren growled and kneeled over slightly, tears beginning to fall from his eyes as quickly as the blood had from his legs yet he still held out his gun and began to fire without aim towards the bounty hunter.
Spike seemed to blink for each of the four bullets his catch was firing where completely missing him by feet and even meters, and once he looked up he could only see that Warren did not have the greatest of pain tolerances.
At that moment Spike saw his chance and he ran forwards, himself seemed to by like one of the many bullets Warren fired at him earlier.
The bounty figure's eyes suddenly flew open as Spike sent his leg crashing into Warren's with great speed, and he fell to the ground, completely taken off balance. The tall man landed into a glass window. For a brief moment the glass expanded but soon shattered into many pieces, leaving the black haired man hanging halfway outside, only holding on by the mere curtains that used to cover a floor to ceiling window.
He pulled himself back in slowly. His eyes expression turning into panic as a weak smile crossed Spikes lips. At the moment Spike's gun was aimed perfectly at Warrens head, point blank range.
Warren began to scoot back, a lapse of sanity falling over him as he continued until he felt nothing underneath his palms. He fell, his anguished scream rattled through the air as his body fell limply to the ground far below.
Spike ran forward swiftly to grab the one-hundred million woolongs but it was already too late. Spike looked down in horror as Warren fell to his death, at that moment he felt he could do nothing. He lowered his hands slowly and he kneeled, the sudden rush of pain form his injuries where not felt more then ever, as well as the blood.
He sighed lightly, glancing downward to only see crowd of people gathered in a particular spot, he easily knew what they where doing and he stood slowly. His head turning as he made his way out of the room.
He then spoke, sighing lightly, "Jet, is going, to kill me."
See you Space Cowboy.
By: Michelle Ulmer
The trumpet echoed loudly through the red brick walled room. Upon the walls where posters of past and present Jazz bands, artists, each with a unique name that fitted only them.
In the center of the room a band featured on one of the many posters played a tune that could easily catch anyone's eyes onto them and make people tap there fingers to the beat. Though one pair of amber eyes was not on the band, rather yet a tall, slender, black haired man appearing to be in his mid thirties.
"I found him." the owner of the eyes said into a communicator loud enough to be heard over the roar of the trumpets, bass, and other musical instruments. This man appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, upon his scalp was a mass of deep green hair that looked as if it was washed well but never brushed.
After he took a glance at the man he glanced down at the communicators screen. There upon it was a slightly older, well muscled, gentleman, a black beard pointed near the joint of his jaw. He had a grin on his face as he spoke, "Alright, Spike, after the show is over, follow him until I message you. I will be waiting on the intersection of Elm and First. I will be in the Hammerhead for you to come with Warren in your hands. Got that? And remember we have one-hundred million woolongs counting on this bud."
Spike's grin grew slightly as he turned his attention to the band playing, "Oh don't worry Jet, I got this under control. "
"Well you better," and after Jet's words the communicators screen flicked off only to leave a few moments of static till any picture was gone. Afterwards Spike placed the communicator into one of the pockets of his cobalt toned suit. Underneath this suit he wore a plain banana yellow work shirt, and black tie, each fitting well with this suit, which one collar of the coat was over turned, while the other seemed to never even been there in the first place.
In only a half an hour the Jazz bands performance was over. Many people stood and many people clapped. Spike though had is attention on something other then the Jazz band.
He soon began to follow the tall male's steps out the door. A cocky grin upon his face as he began to stride steadily through the crowd that was beginning to poor form there seats and out into the open air.
After the slight struggle Spike reached the outside world .Glancing for his target which he was following earlier. He quickly found him wavering into an alleyway between an unnamed building and the nightclub where he just arrived from. His only choice was to follow and that is what he did.
As he walked, his steps where not silent, nor careful. His strides where long though as he tried to keep up with the surprisingly swift paced target.
Then both came to a dead end. Spike was only a silhouette against the light from the streets from the bounty's eyes. And just as luminous as he looked, his movements where not faltered as he swiftly grabbed his gun from the hostler hidden beneath his suit. He held it forwards, aimed perfectly with the man's head.
"Alright, Warren, we can end this easily, or we can end it hard." Spike said with the cocky grin still placed firmly on his face.
Afterwards the man titled Warren seemed to get the sure grin as well. His hands went smoothly into his pockets; yet little worry where seen in his emerald eyes.
"You bounty hunters are all alike." he said with a menacing chuckle, "Looks through your eye always fade out the truth."
Abruptly with Warrens words sudden clicks sounded throughout the alleyway. Afterwards a light was placed on Spike, easily allowing him to be seen through the darkness.
As the light was placed on himself, he recoiled his arm upwards, hoping to block as much of the blinding light as possible. Afterward what he saw where black cloaked figures, each strategically placed around spike, and each holding guns to his cranium. Then he turned back to Warren, his menacing emerald eyes locked on Spike, his grin fitting perfectly with the rest of his expressions. There was only one thing Spike could do at this moment and that was run.
The explosions of gun shots resounded through the alleyway. The light following Spike as his long quick strides began to carry him away from the line of fire. He rolled forward once, evading a line of bullets that sped past but as he resumed his sprinting, another gun shot was heard and a bullet flew through his right shoulder. Spike cringed as the blood began to flow from the injury but he kept running, experience taught him if you stop, you will die.
He soon erupted from the fire of bullets and gunshots, his one hand clenching his wound as he ran. In only moments he reached the road nearest him, the bullets still flying past his swift movements. Afterwards he leaped over an old car and onto the black top road, the road clearly labeled Elm. His eyes darted to the street sign, which beside Elm was labeled First St. Spike, soon ran to his originally specified destination. He glanced back once only to see men of different hair tones darting from the alley, guns in hand. He then returned back to running.
There a little away from the intersection he spotted Jet's craft and his stride became quicker as he made to life or death dash.
Inside Jet spotted his partner, and the three guards, holding guns that followed. Immediately he started the engines up, the flares from the booster causing the surrounding air to appear like the surface of pond water. Then the hammerhead lifted upwards quickly and at that moment Spike reached the craft and leaped upon it. His fingers clenching, trying to get a hold upon the smooth metal surface. His legs lifted upwards and he climbed fully onto the front of the craft. The three men still holding the holding guns watched the two bounty hunters rise far above them. A look of achievement on there faces.
An over agitated look was upon Spike's face back on the old fishing space craft, The Bebop. He sat there upon the yellow couch. His upper arm and right chest where covered tightly in plain white bandages. A slight amount of blood stains seen around the area where he was shot earlier.
Coming smoothly in the room was Faye. In her usual yellow, reveling cloths, and red coat that covered only her arms, the rest dangling behind her. A casual grin soon curved her lips till she came around the couch to look at Spike from the side. At that time, some of her dark hair falling forward.
"Well.how many times have I seen this?" she said with a mocking tone that matched her grin, "Poor baby."
"Can it Faye!" Spike said with a yell blended with his words. After that Faye came around the metallic table in front of the injured Spike and sat limply onto the chair in front of him, easily sipping a drink.
"So the almighty Spike Spiegel got beaten up by a puny thing like Warren," she said with a smirk glancing at Spike.
"Like I said Faye! Can it! Besides he had an group of body guards waiting for me!" Spike soon turned his attention to Jet slowly who was walking into the room. Then back to Faye whose smirk seemed to fade with curiosity.
"Why would a runt like him have body guards?" Faye asked slowly now glancing up to Jet who soon sat down next Spike with out a sound.
"It is simple, he gave them something the syndicate wanted and for return, he got protection." Jet announced as he began to type swiftly on the computer before him. Then a screen familiar to them appeared with data on there bounty, "Warren Carisoné, thief for the finer arts and priceless items. A while back he smuggled a rare gem and along with many other rare and priceless items. The gem is called the Dragons Eye, it was created during the gate disaster a while back. It is still by this day the largest ever found and the renowned Black Phoenix, a large syndicate wanted as well."
"So Jet, you are saying that this guy sold it to the syndicate or what?" Faye grumbled as she leaned lazily into the chair, legs crossed in a usual fashion. She took another quick sip of her soda as she glanced over to Spike, "So you where shot by his little friends?" Her grin was holding a laugh which one could easily see could come out at any moment.
"Warren Warren near Bebop Bebop!" a young voice called out through the ships hull as a red head no older then thirteen came storming in, a corgi, which was obviously a puppy at heart followed her with the utmost enthusiasm.
Immediately as the child known as Ed came storming in Spike, Jet, and Faye turned to look at her, each following her hyper, aimless child movements.
She then turned to the bandaged Spike, "Lunk-head got shot again didn't he?" after those words she scurried up near Spike. "Kiss Kiss will make hurt go away!" Ed said as she soon lifted the corgi to Spikes face. Once the canine was at eye level he opened his mouth and let his tongue roll out, afterwards licking the bush haired man in the face a few times before he recoiled.
"Ed, that is disgusting!" Spike and turned away but soon turned back to the child, "What do you mean he is near the Bebop?!"
"Ed was curious on Warren and searched up his data files why you where away! After that Ed found where he sleeps at night! It's an old syndicate owned apartment at the edge of city!" the child said with an overly large grin on her face as she did a few cartwheels towards Faye. She then climbed up the edge of the chair the women sat upon and went up and over, now peering at Faye upside down, "Did Faye Faye have fun at the casinos? Did Faye bring Ed presents?"
Immediately after those words Faye lifted her hand and tried to latch onto Ed's white T-shirt collar but the young girl just leaped from her place onto the ground. Soon the women turned to peer at Jet then Spike, each of them had an angered look upon there faces.
"Faye.where did you get the money for the casinos?" Jet asked in a frighteningly calm tone.
"Yes Faye do tell." Spike mentioned as a grin curved his lips yet in his eyes anyone could see the fire of anger.
"Well.boys, I think I have to go.you know people to meet places to see." she said with a fake grin on her face. She stood her hands locking behind herself as she jumped from her chair hastily and she raced towards the hangar.
The work which becomes a new genre itself will be called COWBOY BEBOP
"How much did she loose us at the casino this time?" Spike asked as he slipped on his Jacket. Cringing as he put his injured arm through the sleeve.
"Five thousand woolongs," Jet growled as he scratched the corgi, known as Ein, behind the ears, "so have to bag this guy got it? Otherwise that bitch is going to cost us more then she is worth"
Spike smirked as he soon sat and began to load his trusty gun, "Don't worry Jet, when have I let you down?"
"That is what I am worried about. Alright anyway, he is at the top floor, so obviously you are going have to run through an army of guards. But I suspect when you reach the top floor you should be home free and be able to grab our one-hundred million woolongs." Jet sighed lightly, "Remember he is no use to us dead."
"All this for some money?" a feminine voice said in the background, "I doubt you will make it out of this one Spike.I know you too well you are to. reckless."
"Well if I don't make it out Faye, will you come to my funeral?" Spike gave an amused smile as he stood up and head towards the refrigerator. He opened the door, in there he pulled out a bag which he carried back to his place onto the couch. There he let it loose and about five grenades toppled out.
"Yah like we could afford one," Faye grumbled as she turned away, lifting her hands and putting a lit cigarette between her lips.
"Well whose fault would that be?" Jet asked in hardly mused tone.
"Not mine.," Faye retorted as she took a drag form her cigarette, "After all I am not the one who has not been grabbing the bounties lately." After those words she breathed out, letting a cloud of smoke erupt from her lips and glide through the air.
Jet grumbled and turned to Spike who had already stood and placed his tan trench coat upon himself. Spike blinked as he put his hands in his pockets, without a word he began to walk.
"Good luck kid." Jet mentioned as he leaned into his chair.
Spike stopped briefly only to continue on. He soon passed Faye on the way but the women said nothing, only blowing smoke in the air from her cigarette as he made his way to the hanger. Spike was now out of sight from both Jet and Faye.
The hanger opened slowly. The evening Martian light swept through the hanger only to reveal a light red, one man, space craft which was currently rolling out to the take off point on The Bebop. With its aerodynamic shape, one could easily see that this craft was built for speed and maneuverability.
Inside its cockpit sat Spike. He leaning forward, hands covered in brown leather gloves that would easily grasp the steering. He lifted one hand and pressed a few buttons on the control panel and soon let his hand once again rest on the steering of the ship he named the Swordfish. Moments Later the wings unfolded from above and locked firmly into place. Then two panels at the rear engine lifted slightly and a blast of light blue and white flames erupted out. Then moments later the ship took flight, the wheels lifting into there own compartments.
His destination was clearly seen off in the distance. A fairly tall building, which its peak towered above the much smaller buildings and homes near it. As soon as he saw this, Spike had a sudden feeling lurch inside his stomach, but he only covered it up with his grin.
Spike landed the Swordfish at the nearest space he could, although this space was where a car would be parked, this was an obvious traffic blocker, but Spike only started to whistle a tune when he leapt from the cockpit. He stopped abruptly before entering the doors, his hands burying deep in the pockets of his trench coat. He peered up at the top of the stone and glass building, and smirked, "So, the very top Jet?"
Then after those words he walked forth, pushing himself through the doors with very little care in his eyes. Immediately he caught the attention of those about. Mainly those who where dressed formally in black coats, pants, and white shirts. There eyes narrowed and a few pulled there guns out slightly.
Spike noticed this sudden change in expression and braced himself yet nothing happened as he walked towards the elevator. Not even a whisper caught his ears. He pressed the upwards button, eyes and ears alert yet still all he got where stares. He questioned this but soon walked forth into the elevator as its doors opened.
The doors soon closed and he looked at the panel of buttons. He noticed the highest number of one hundred and twenty two, so he fully expected this to be his target level and soon pressed his index finger against the circular button.
He felt his stomach drop as the elevator lifted. Eyes watching the numbers that passed with each moment as he continued up onto other floors.
Abruptly the elevator stopped without warning on level one hundred and twenty. Alarms where clearly heard outside its door and Spike glanced around only to try and pry open the doors, but with no avail. He peered upwards and noticed the emergency door as his escape route. Spike lifted himself up, smashing through the door. Immediately afterwards he felt the pain from his injury that he received from this same group earlier and cringed, kneeling over slightly. He though straightened himself and took a deep breath. The bounty hunter then glanced to his side, noticing the doors that led out to this level.
Spike pried the doors open and soon leapt out, bringing his hand guns up from there hostlers, and then he fired as a bullet flew past his already scratched face. The sound of ones in pain was heard as a man dressed in the black syndicate garb dropped to the floor, bleeding, and his gun dropped from his hand. The bounty hunter turned abruptly and fired his guns and again like before another man fell to the floor, blood pouring from his wounds. Spike turned glancing from side to side yet seeing no one that appeared from the corners. He ran, following the signs that clearly said stairs.
Another few moments passed and more gunshots where heard behind him through the wide hall way. He swiftly moved around the corner, the bullets grazing against the dry wall. The repeating sound of many foot steps where soon heard Spike brought out grenade, his only choice at the moment. His teeth bit and pulled the ring and he tossed the explosive around the corner and ran. His legs carrying him far and the grand explosion which was heard behind him. Flames then slashed through the air and made there way toward Spike far faster then he could run. In only a brief second he was carried with the flames and slammed against the wall, back first. The man slid down and landed slowly on his head.
He fell back onto his knees, pain from both old and new injuries where easily felt but he stood; constantly reminding himself that there is one-hundred million woolongs on the line for this.
The heat of the flames engulfed the surrounding area but Spike once again began to run, soon making it to the steps. He hears nothing through the constant cackle of fire and for brief moment halted his running, taking a breath of the non smoke engulfed air. As he did his right hand held limply at his side, the slight trickle of blood now falling down to his index finger, beads of sweat following the same motion down the side of his face. He took another deep breath of air and walked at a fast pace up the stairs, his hand guns still held tightly in his hands.
The bounty hunter reached eye line with the top of the stair case and he saw many waiting for him there. His eyes narrowed as he fired his gun, his shots missing many times from there trajectory. Many fell to the ground yet a few stood still firing there guns at there opposition. He lifted his hands and fired at the remaining few who remained. Then the last one remaining pulled the trigger of his gun at the last seconds of his life, the bullet puncturing the side of Spike's stomach.
Spike soon lurched over from the pain and looked up, himself cringing heavily, the blood from the new wound felt on his hand. He growled and continued forward, now taking deep breaths as he began to walk now. The pain was intense but he nor wished to die at the moment, but rather wished the bathe in the woolongs that where his payoff.
He walked up another flight of stairs slowly, and noticed his target room at the end of the hallway. All he could see was a door well carved by some person which was quite experienced. Near the door his sharp eyes noticed a pair of men, each holding there guns outwards at Spike. There eyes far from amused as they fired.
Spike ducked, the bullets missing his hair by inches. He took a deep breath and held his gun outwards, and fired many times, three of his shots embedded themselves in the ones who opposed himself, the others where completely off target and went straight into the oak wood door.
He stood and walked forth, soon passing the guards. He looked down at each and then pushed himself through the bullet smashed doors. He looked forward into the room, it was lavishly decorated with rare paintings and other rare artifacts. The bed made out of pure oak and its sheets where made form the finest silk and other comfortable materials. There sitting before Spike on a bench was his target throughout this whole excursion.
Warren appeared to be like demon, only his silhouette and emerald green eyes seen through the growing shadows of the room. Then a familiar click was heard against Spike's ears. Warren now stood before Spike, his gun held outwards towards the mans head head. The bounty figure then pulled the trigger, the crash was heard and Spike moved out of the way, the bullet streaming through the side of his head and bringing a few strands of his forest toned hair and some flesh form his cheek along with it .
"Yes, you are the Spike Spiegel, "he laughed menacingly, "Isn't it amazing what one crime syndicate will do for a single gem stone and a few priceless paintings?" With his words he held out his hand, his attention placed upon the entire room.
"What is my name to you? " Spike asked as he clenched a hand over his stomach injury.
"Quite much you see, I always enjoy knowing the names of the ones who hunt me down" once again he released a mere chuckle and pulled the trigger of his hand gun. Spike noticed the finger twitch and dipped to the ground, suddenly feeling the sudden sting of bullet grazing his back. Once he hit the ground his guns where held outwards and he too pulled the triggers. The bullets flew through the air and one landed directly in Warren's leg, the others had obviously missed the designated target by feet and inches.
Warren growled and kneeled over slightly, tears beginning to fall from his eyes as quickly as the blood had from his legs yet he still held out his gun and began to fire without aim towards the bounty hunter.
Spike seemed to blink for each of the four bullets his catch was firing where completely missing him by feet and even meters, and once he looked up he could only see that Warren did not have the greatest of pain tolerances.
At that moment Spike saw his chance and he ran forwards, himself seemed to by like one of the many bullets Warren fired at him earlier.
The bounty figure's eyes suddenly flew open as Spike sent his leg crashing into Warren's with great speed, and he fell to the ground, completely taken off balance. The tall man landed into a glass window. For a brief moment the glass expanded but soon shattered into many pieces, leaving the black haired man hanging halfway outside, only holding on by the mere curtains that used to cover a floor to ceiling window.
He pulled himself back in slowly. His eyes expression turning into panic as a weak smile crossed Spikes lips. At the moment Spike's gun was aimed perfectly at Warrens head, point blank range.
Warren began to scoot back, a lapse of sanity falling over him as he continued until he felt nothing underneath his palms. He fell, his anguished scream rattled through the air as his body fell limply to the ground far below.
Spike ran forward swiftly to grab the one-hundred million woolongs but it was already too late. Spike looked down in horror as Warren fell to his death, at that moment he felt he could do nothing. He lowered his hands slowly and he kneeled, the sudden rush of pain form his injuries where not felt more then ever, as well as the blood.
He sighed lightly, glancing downward to only see crowd of people gathered in a particular spot, he easily knew what they where doing and he stood slowly. His head turning as he made his way out of the room.
He then spoke, sighing lightly, "Jet, is going, to kill me."
See you Space Cowboy.