I hope none of you are sensitive to cursing. I think I set a personal record for curse words in this chapter. I've never been too comfortable using them in a story, but they were just perfect for their scenes.

Tien and Yamcha stood on opposite sides of the door, their backs against the wall and their pistols held up in front of their faces, the barrels pointing to the ceiling. The hallway was dimly light, pretty much leaving them surrounded by shadows. Glancing to each other, they both nodded their readiness.

Shifting from the left side of the door to stand in front of it, Tien holding his gun in front of his face as he quickly prepared himself for his next action. Lifting his leg up, he grunted as he kicked the door as hard as he could, causing the door lock to rip apart of the door frame with a loud crack, the door swinging wide open. Immediately his gun was thrust forward, the barrel staring into the room as the bald man took a step back.

Yamcha copied his action, peeking into the room at an angle from his position. A second later and he hurried into the room, searching for any possible threat. Tien was right behind him, looking in the opposite way as his partner.

They found themselves in a small hallway, a small table with various envelops and a set of car keys on it standing near the door way. There were a couple of paintings hanging on the walls, but nothing they paid attention too. The hall split into two directions, one ending in a darkened living room and the other leading down another small hall and a closed door.

"Yamcha," Tien whispered, nodding his head to the closed door. Yamcha immediately made his way done the hall, the the bald man staying at the hall entrance, keeping an eye on him. As soon as he got to the door, Yamcha copied his partner's earlier move and kicked the door in, using the momentum from the kick to move into what he found to be a bedroom.

Immediately, something moved around the corner of his eye, causing Yamcha to jerk back. That turned out to be a fortunate move as a baseball bat barely missed his head, colliding with the door frame with a loud crack. Instantly, Yamcha passed his gun from his right hand to his left, his right shooting up and grabbing onto the bat, pinning it to the frame. Lunging into the room, he found a man in only a t-shirt and boxers standing near by, both of his hands on the bat, trying to shake loose his weapon while Yamcha did his best to keep the bat pinned down.

With a growl, Yamcha leapt at the man and tackled him to the floor, the two men landing in a pile of body parts. Somehow the baseball bat went bouncing across the floor, which left Yamcha trying to disentangle himself from his attacker. However, he quickly realized the man was grabbing at him—or more specifically his gun, trying to rip it from his grasp. Swatting at the grabbing hands, Yamcha tried to move the gun away, holding it as far away as he could while the man practically climbed on top of him to get it.

"Alright, that's enough," a voice range out, a clicking sound being made soon after. This caused Yamcha to let out a sigh of relief as the man froze on top of him. Tien really had impeccable timing.

"Now get off of him and stand on your knees, hands above your head," Tien ordered, the man doing as he told. The moment Yamcha felt the man's weight lift off of him, he slid further way from him and sat up, pointing his gun at the man. A glance towards the door revealed Tien pointing his gun right at their target.

"Turn around and place your hands on the bed," Yamcha then ordered, the man doing as told. Once he saw the man's back and his hands pressed firmly onto the mattress, Yamcha holstered his gun and pulled out a set of handcuffs. Getting to his feet, he move to stand behind the man and reached down to grab his left hand, jerking it behind the man and cuffing him, the right hand following soon after.

"Do you know who I am?" the man demanded, turning his head to look at them. "Do you know who I work for? It's the fucking District Attorney, so what every bullshit charge you have against me won't stand up when he gets through with it. I hope you're ready to give up your jobs, you—"

Tien walked up to the man and slugged him in the face, the man's head slamming down onto the mattress as he cried out. To make sure he didn't get back up, Yamcha placed his forearm on the man's back and began resting his weight on him. "Quit resisting arrest," his partner said seriously. Yamcha was barely able to repress his snort. Reaching to his back pocket, Tien pulled out a folded piece of paper and slapped it down in front of the man's face before walking off. "Here's your arrest warrant. Read it and memorize."

"I'd do as he says," Yamcha advised. "But you should already know that, being a legal expert and all."

"I can't read it from this angle," the man complained, the force of his breath moving a nearby ruffle in his comforter.

"Is it the angle, or the fact that you've never read a single legal document ever?" Yamcha questioned.

The man sputtered at that. "How dare you! Of course I've read one! Hundreds of them in fact! I work at a law office, ya know!"

"What was his job again, Tien?"

Tien was standing by the man's closet, looking into it. "He's a gopher."

"Wow, impressive," Yamcha exclaimed. "Think he can show us how he goes for coffee and donuts? Maybe he can even tell us how Vegeta likes his coffee. I'm thinking black."

"Four sugars. He strikes me as a man that acts tough, but has a nice soft spot for sweets."

"You're both wrong!" the man cried out. "He likes cream in his coffee."

"Oh ho! We were both wrong," Yamcha exclaimed.

"Looks like," Tien replied as he pulled a pair of pants out of the closet. "Help him into these." The pants were tossed through the air and landed with a thud on the bed.

"I'm not putting anything on!" the man declared heatedly. "You can't take me anywhere I don't want to go!"

"That's where you're wrong," Tien said. "That arrest warrant says you're coming with us—and if you want to stand around in a jail cell in nothing but your boxers, that's your choice. Personally, I wouldn't want to have only my underwear as protection against possible sodomites, but then that's just me. So what'll it be?"

The man was silent for a moment before he whined "You haven't even read me my rights."

Yamcha rolled his eyes. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot obtain one, one will be appointed to you. Now, if you have nothing else to say, I hope you're ready to go meet your cellmates. They're quite eager to meet you and your underwear."

The only response he got was a muttered "Give me my pants."

"Wise choice," Yamcha smirked.

In short order, they got the man dressed and out of his apartment. Though he tired his hardest to stop moving, Yamcha and Tien kept him walking until they reached the street. There they marched him to the back of an armored truck, one the man was surprised to see.

Moving to the doors, Tien unlocked it and swung the doors open, revealing several men seated on benches and restrained. Some of them were still fully dressed in either suits or street clothes while others were wore only pants or some form of pajamas. However, all of them looked slightly roughed up. "I think you might recognize a few of your friends," Tien said out loud as the man stared into the truck in awe. "They said the same things as you did. As you can see, they weren't any more successful than you were."

Yamcha forced the man to climb into the truck, setting him down several seats away from the door and restraining him down, specifically with leg irons and a couple of chains that fell from the wall of the truck. Attaching the chains to the man's handcuffs, Yamcha then backed out of the truck, shutting the doors closed behind him and locking them.

"Another one down," Yamcha declared cheerfully. "How many do we have left?"

"Three, I think," Tien answered as he began walking to the driver side door.

Walking to the passenger side door, Yamcha opened it and climbed in. "And the others are getting the boss girl," the scarred man clarified as he shut the door behind him.

"That's the plan."

"Well then, to the next stop!"

The engine roared as the car sped through the streets. Videl grasped the wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

How did she miss it? All of those clues, hints, and gut instincts had been sitting right in her face. Hell, she had even been told everything about this sting operation and yet she completely missed that she was the target. Unforgivable; inexcusable! She should've picked up on this thing the moment it had been concocted in that brain of Vegeta's.

The man hadn't always taken her suggestions into consideration. In fact he had always snorted his derision at anything she had said. She had to have her guys higher up in the office get anything she wanted done. Then one day he had changed his tune. She had felt something was wrong, but that opportunist in her had blinded her to his ploy. And then that detective! She never knew how convincing of an actor he could be and he played her like fiddle.

The blaring of a car horn sounded off next to her as she flew through an intersection, ignoring the red light that shown. "Learn to drive!" she shouted in the car, aiming her impatience at that idiot of a driver. Didn't he see she was on the run here? For the love of Christ, his pathetic excuse for a life was an inconvenience that she couldn't afford at the moment. She had to get to her stronghold, the one place those guys couldn't reach—

Videl hit the breaks of the car, skidding to a stop in the middle of the street as her tires squealed in protest from the sudden action. A second thought a moment later made her turn the wheel and slowly edge the car to the side of the road, coming to a full stop on two side-parking spots. Fortunately no one had been driving fast enough behind her to come plowing into her backside when she had done that.

Swearing under his breath, Videl gripped the wheel harder as a few beads of sweat dripped down her face and neck. She couldn't go to her stronghold, not anymore. She had allowed herself to be played into this situation and that rotten detective and his team were expecting her to go there. In fact, they probably had those two police officers sitting outside of it right now, just waiting to arrest her. As blindly as she had been led, she refused to fall into that trap. There wasn't a place in the city she could honestly go without being caught.

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath. Holding it for a moment, she let out the air in a rush, her eyes flying open with a determined look appearing on her face. So if the city wasn't safe, Videl had no other choice other than to leave it. Hit the highway and never look back. This part of her operation was affectively shut down.

Considering how thorough these taskforce guys had been, it was likely they weren't just targeting her tonight. They probably had gotten most, if not all of her associates at the law firm by now. Anyone left would have to be abandoned because any call she made to them would only help them pinpoint her location, even at a pay phone. There was no telling what happened with Nappa, but Videl couldn't imagine any scenario playing out where Westingham would just let that big man walk out unscathed. Those other taskforce members she hadn't been told much about had to have been close by as backup.

And as for Shugesh and Borgos, they probably had met a similar fate to the others. Arrested the moment they reached Westingham's Manor and any trace of them removed before she had left. Indeed, this truly was an every-man-for-themselves situation.

Now that she was calm, she looked over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any nearby cars about to pass her before hitting the gas pedal and pulling back onto the street. Heading to the first intersection she came too, she made a right and gunned the engine, racing down the road as quickly as she could, ignoring any and all traffic lights regardless of color. She needed to get to the highway fast and—

Suddenly, glass from the windows shatter and shot all over the inside of the car, shards pelting Videl's face and body. The entire passenger side of the car caved in, the headlights of whatever car or truck hit her staring at her accusingly. Her head whipped around from side to side as she lost control of the car. She could feel herself spinning around, her hands slipping off the stirring wheel. Her skull came into contact with the window a couple times, each time sending a screaming jolt of pain throughout her brain. Faintly she could hear the screeching of tires and the blaring of car horns.

And in the middle of all that, Videl felt herself plunge into darkness.

"Son," a gruff voice spoke. "Son, come in."

Gohan picked up the walkie-talkie he had resting between his legs. It was the only place he could have put it where he had easy access to it. It wasn't like Vegeta was going to hang onto it. "This is Son."

The gruff voice—Piccolo's he recognized—responded with "We have a problem."

Gohan glanced to Vegeta, who was looking back at him questioning. "Copy that," the detective replied into the speaker. "Tell me what's going on."

"The target is not going to be making it to her destination. You need to head downtown."

Suddenly, the radio was snatched from Gohan's hand, Vegeta's glaring into the receiver. "Explain," he ordered.

"The target had an accident at 9th and Juniper," Piccolo said, not the least seeming put off by the change of speaker and tone. "She was broadsided while running a red light, heading towards the highway."

Gohan jerked his head up. The highway? Videl wasn't supposed to go that way, she was supposed to go to that warehouse of hers. While downtown was one way to get to it, the warehouse was nowhere near 9th and Juniper. In fact, it was almost as if she changed direction.

Oh, okay, that made sense. Videl must've realized that they were expecting her to go there and decided to hightail it out of town. A good and totally unexpected decision on her part—too bad she didn't quite make it.

Vegeta, on the other hand, didn't seem to care about that development. "That bitch totaled my car!" he roared with rage. "When I get my hands on her, I'll wring every last drop of blood out of her dying body for every dent I find!"

Yeeesh, compassionate Vegeta wasn't. Then again, Gohan had never gotten attached to a car that was stolen. Reaching over to the walkie-talkie, he pulled it out of Vegeta's grasp and replied "Thanks. We're in route." Pausing, he then said to Vegeta "Again, sorry about your car."

"Not as sorry as she's gonna be," Vegeta growled. "When I get done with her, not even that idiot she calls her father will be able to recognize her! I'll get her locked up in a cell so far underground, she'll have to become a mole just to see two feet in front of her!"

Gohan refrained from mentioning that moles couldn't see. It was best to just let Vegeta get all of his anger out of his system. Instead, he decided to offer a suggestion to help Vegeta in his plot for vengeance. "You know, you could add Grand Theft Auto to her list of charges."

"Say another word and that bitch is going to have company in that hole I bury her in."

Hmm, that didn't sound like a good thing. Perhaps it was best to go back to the original subject—the one that wouldn't piss his passenger off any more than he already was. Speaking to the walkie-talkie, he then asked "Do you know what hit her?"

A growl from Vegeta told him he asked the wrong question. Okay, he really needed to get away from the car subject for the sake of his continued health.

However, instead of getting an immediate response, Piccolo remained silence for several moments. Then a deep chuckle come from the receiver, making both men stare at the radio curiously. "You're not going to believe it."

To Guest 1: I originally had another role for Frieza actually, but I never got around to using it.

To Phill: It definitely would have been better if I had been in another person's POV, like an assistant or something and just stayed with them throughout. However, I'm pretty sure I did put something of Videl's thoughts in the current light during the Police Station scene. I could be wrong though.

To Guest 2: At least the second half I did lol.