Second chapter of my fic lets see how this goes shall we?

I do not own cowboy bebop or anything affiliated with it.

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Three mile sprint

Yesterday, today, tomorrow.

Bikes sped by, whizzing down a narrow street, cars going every which way people yelling rudely to one another.

"Just another boring day." Anthony grumbled sitting back on the stoop of a decent looking apartment complex, "Mars, why here of all places I could be on Jupiter but no, how the hell did I get on Mars."

The teenager glanced at few people walking by until his eyes settled on a man with an odd haircut and blue leisure suit 'And who is this?' he wondered as the man made his way across the street towards him, not really wanting to find out he got up his fingers brushing against the antique Taurus revolver in his belt, Shaking his head at the idea he turned breaking into a dead sprint down the sidewalk.

"Son of a bitch." Spike groaned as he took off after him, skidding around the corner frustrated he saw the boy enter a convenience store, 'Smart kid, lots of cover here, too bad only one exit.' Drawing his pistol he fired a few shots into the air causing the other occupants of the store to exit past him.

Hearing the gunshots Anthony's eyes widened, 'Jericho 941, NATO spec 9 mm, .40, .41 no longer in production, or .45 sidearm used by the Israeli military and produced by Ta'as formerly Israeli Military Industries, based on the CZ-75 pistol produced by Česká zbrojovka (CZ) of the Czech Republic. Caliber 9 mm Para, .40S&W, .45ACP, .41AE Weight 920g, Length 192 mm, Barrel length 96 mm, Capacity 16 (9 mm), 12 (.40), 10 (.45) rounds.' The sudden unexpected rush of information made him jump up from his concealed location holding his head in pain.

Spike smirked for a moment thinking that his assailant was finally giving up; only to be surprised as the boy raised his gun faster than he could react a loud crack followed by chips of plaster hitting his shoulder, the bullet punching a large whole in the wall centimeters from his head, "Shit." Spike growled ducking low and pointing his gun in the general direction of the boy squeezing out several rounds,

Anthony was blank; his mind focused on one thing, killing his attacker whatever the cost.

Hearing the loud whiz of bullets zooming past him he fired another round the .454 Casull cartridge missing his attacker by centimeters once again, tearing through a rack of soda products the multi-colored liquids spraying out in different directions, 'Do you think product twelve will be victorious?' Anthony suddenly dropped his gun gripping his head in pain. 'You fool! You're tampering with his neural interface!' Falling to his knees he cried out, white foam starting to bubble at the corners of his mouth tinged pink with blood, 'No it isn't me! he's using a manual override somehow!' 'Shut down main systems, do it!' 'I can't main systems are off the charts, were losing him!' Falling forward onto his chest Anthony twitched lightly before losing consciousness.

Spike stared at the boy, gently prodding him with his foot. "Adrenaline too much for you huh?" he asked aloud lifting him up onto his shoulder crouching to grab the gun also, turning he walked out of the store tapping the ear bud Ed made for him and Jet with his left hand, "Jet, I got our boy here, coming back to the ship now."

"Oh wow he's in one piece?" Jet's voice asked from the other side.

"Oh ha ha ha, shut up old man." Spike grumbled cutting the connection, making his way to his ship he sighed lightly the sky becoming dark casting long gloomy shadows along the dank city block, 'Maybe I will regret this.'

In a dark room at an undisclosed location two aging men in white lab coats conversed with one another, "Don't worry this has happened before, we'll send out a team and the problem will be taken care of in no time." The other man nodded reassured before glancing at a large fogged up storage tank, "Incredible isn't it?" he asked, wiping the condensation off of the glass he stared at the contents within, light blue eyes staring back at him.

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