Chapter 12 - "Going away from New Sadala

"Home. I'll go home. And I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day!"

(Margareth Mitchell – Gone with the wind)

Bulma Briefs' right foot beat nervously on the ground in front of Officer Hitto, whom she faced ambushed and impatient. He sighed deeply. The woman didn't want to collaborate at all. He was sure she had been with the guy for two days, and if he had run away, he was a criminal. But she refused to turn him in.

"I'll ask you one more time, Mrs. Briefs... what was the man's name?"

"Rogers. Rogers Prince, something like that. He had one more name, but I don't remember."

"And you really didn't see which direction he took after he left the hotel?"

"I have no idea where he went. He left me waiting in the restaurant and disappeared. Can I leave?"

He snitched.

"Your brother-in-law said the guy looked like the criminal known as 'the hawk' of the gang of Freeza" he extended to her a wanted poster showing a man with half his face hidden by a handkerchief. She frowned, and he asked, "Are you sure you don't see any resemblance between that man you met and this portrait:"

"Frankly, officer, how can I find someone who only shows two inches of the face?"

He was almost sure she was lying. She was close enough to recognize those eyes and the shape of his hair. Hitto knew Jaco and knew that the military was a damn eagle eye after all. If he realized the resemblance, it was because it was real. But the girl was pretending to know nothing about the man.

"So... at no time did he tell her his real name? Not once?"

"I told you, he said his last name was Prince."

"Which is, coincidently," said Hitto, "the same name of the son of King Vegeta, who disappeared twenty years ago. Are you sure it wasn't him? There is a rumor he is in the Freeza's pack."

"How can I know if a guy I saw just passing by the hotel is a boy kidnapped twenty years ago, sir?"

"Mrs. Briefs, if you are protecting the man because he flirted with you..."

"How dare you, Officer, make that kind of insinuation? I'm a respectable, widowed, coy woman! I'm not protecting him, I've said everything I know. We had lunch together at most twice; he was just kind and cordial."

"But you were seen dancing at the popular ball with him by several witnesses."

"Is it a crime to dance, even being a widow, Officer? It's only a miserable month before my mourning ends. And I've been using it for almost two years!"

"Madam, I understand that you want to protect the man who was kind and polite to you... but I don't think that you should..."

"And I don't think you should judge poor widows as accomplices of bandits and murderers."

Bulma couldn't even know why she was protecting that man. He had confessed to being a criminal. And he had asked her not to turn him in. He was probably a long way from New Sadala if he was smart. And the damned Hitto, what a tireless man (and very handsome, she couldn't help noticing). Wouldn't he ever be convinced?

What she couldn't imagine was that the Officer had already seen dozens and dozens of women and a more than a hundred men shamelessly lying as she did at that moment. He had methods to get to the truth, and asking exhaustively was only one of them, but usually, this was not the purpose of the endless interrogations.

What he wanted was to know Bulma. His reasons for protecting a scumbag like that with such insistence. In an ideal world, she would have opened her mouth and handed him at the first minute the identity of the damned bandit who had been robbing stagecoaches for more than nine years... but they didn't live in the ideal world. People needed encouragement to speak the truth. He didn't shy away from using violent stimuli with men, primarily criminals.

But she was innocent and, worse, woman. He would never use some directly cruel method against a woman, even more, a rich, educated (ok, not so refined, most of the laundresses in New Sadala seemed more polite than her) and well-born. The encouragement there should be different. He should break her loyalty to the criminal. Even there, he tried to do it without needing to appeal to a game that he considered a little dirty. But she didn't give him a choice.

"I know, Mrs. Briefs, that he must be very gallant and polite, and, maybe, that's why you must have been led to a mistake to think that he had some consideration for the lady..."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well... there is a man who has been acting here in New Sadala eventually. He takes advantage of the ingenuity of ladies of society... of course, most of them are not looking for us. Still, there are indications that there were several of them... widows, preferably not all as young or as pretty as you, and most of them, you can imagine, with a reputation to watch over. Just like you."

Bulma didn't know what the man was getting at, but the truth is that she didn't like the direction that conversation was taking; in fact, she didn't like it at all. She stirred uncomfortably in her chair, and the Officer noticed and continued.

"I would say that the lady did not fall for his blow, but others fell. And one of them, well, one of them came to us, obviously asking for the most secrecy possible, because... how would you say that to such a respectable lady... she lay down with the guy."

"And why would that interest me, Officer? We don't even know if it's the same person..."

She didn't know why, but she felt restless as if she was approaching something very horrible, something she wouldn't like to see. She remade in her chair, uncomfortable.

"Well, Mrs. Briefs, we have a good portrait painter, and he does portraits with great precision. He's the one who made the one you have in your hands, which really shows little because the totality of the victims of the stagecoaches never saw the face of the damned assailant. But, I would say that there is another portrait you should check, supposedly it portraits another man."

He took a paper out of the drawer. It was a very well-drawn portrait of a man who had the same face, the same penetrating black eyes, and the same pointed hair with a beak in his forehead as Vegeta. She knew it was him looking at her in the paper exactly how he looked her in the hotel, with a malicious gaze. And Hitto put it next to the other portrait. The eyes were identical. She swallowed dry and bit her lips. Did he...?

"This guy," said Hitto, "he deceived a girl who complained to us, although she asked for secrecy, so we didn't disclose this portrait. And she was young and beautiful like you... After one night, well, people make mistakes, who are we to judge them no? But she was with him, and he stole several things from her. Jewelry, money, and a valuable silver watch."

It was like getting punched in the stomach. Bulma immediately remembered him taking out of his pocket the elaborate silver watch, with the lid covered with beautiful filigrees. She remembered thinking that maybe it was a little feminine, but not giving any importance to the suit. By the time she realized it, the words were already coming out of her mouth:

"I saw this watch," said Bulma coldly, squeezing his lips, remembering the silver watch, "and he is the man, really." She felt a cold rage inside her chest, the miserable one had almost fooled her, "and I remembered that he said his name was Prince Vegeta, Officer. And I believe he is this 'Hawk' guy. The resemblance is, in fact, remarkable."

"Are you sure?" He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. She had handed him the man on a silver platter. He would never tell her that, in fact, the complaining widow was old and ugly, and not a beautiful young woman, the trick that had made her indignant, making her wonder if she was not just another one. She would leave no doubt that for that criminal, she had nothing special.

"May I go now?"

"You are dismissed, Mrs. Briefs."

She was getting up when an assistant came from prison saying:

"An inmate is insisting on talking to this girl, Officer... he swears he knows her and recognized her by her voice, after all, she doesn't speak very quietly...

"An inmate?

"Yes, one of those two who were caught trying to sell a miraculous elixir to impotent old men, remember? The tallest."

"I don't believe he knows her... let's ignore it, said Hitto."

"For God's sake, no! "A voice came from inside the prison "I swear I know her!"

Bulma rolled her eyes. She knew that voice. She looked at the Officer and, without waiting for any authorization, got up, and went to jail. Whistles and screams from the other prisoners accompanied her. She advanced to a cell almost at the end of the prison. There were two men there: One short, with thin whiskers like a cat, and another boy, tall, strong and handsome, with black hair tied on a ponytail and with two scars cutting his face, one on each cheek. Bulma faced him, livid, and said:

"Yamcha... are you still alive?"

He smiled, dull, and said:

"Yes, honey... how have you been?"

The room was small, stuffy, utterly different from the one where he had stayed until the day before. But Vegeta was not in a position to complain because she knew that there, at least, he would not be discovered. He looked at a black spot on the ceiling, thinking about nothing specific, just wondering if Bulma would denounce him. He had hope that she wouldn't.

If she didn't tell anyone who he was, the foolishness he had done by speaking her his name in a rupture would have no consequence. But, if she confessed to someone who he was, if she denounced him over to the police, the next day, his face would be scattered all over New Sadala and beyond, all the way to Fierce's Landing and maybe even to Vegetown, which was almost 200 miles away.

"She won't turn me in." he roared to himself, "I made her feel special..."

Because it was. Bulma had been remarkable for him. He couldn't deny that even before the danger, he had decided that that would be a woman he wouldn't steal. He wouldn't treat her like he treated all the others because she wasn't like all the others. Or maybe it was and he who was playing the fool this time, thinking that a rich widow would be interested in him, a wanted and dangerous bandit. A man with a price on his head. A thief. A murderer.

And he was in trouble, really, or he wouldn't be wearing a cassock. He looked at the small table, filthy, a bowl of water, and a clerical hat with three beaks, very worn by the Catholic priests. Nappa, after all, thought about everything. Fathers were not too disturbed in blockades, and that hat, buried in his head, would disguise him and hide his forehead, the peculiar shape of his family that denounced him so much. He imagined only how one of those clothes had ended up inside a brothel, although he thought he knew. He gave half a laugh. Fathers, pastors, police, and military. All of them hypocrites full of morals, whoremongers just like his father.

It was only a matter of time until Nappa and Raditz solved the 'issue' with Boter, then they could go away, and he would forget that it had happened, and he would never have to think about Bulma, with his blue hair, his bright eyes, and his perfect smile, ever again. She would be just a stumble, a mistake in an almost impeccable career of crimes.

She looked at the silver watch. It was ten o'clock at night, and he thought if Nappa and Raditz had really kicked Boter's ass when he heard the door open and Nappa rushed in, followed by Raditz, who was wearing a T-shirt, no shirt or coat, his muscles stretched expanding the fine mesh, stained with fresh blood. He had his hat melted on his back, and his eyes shining as if he was absurdly excited. The most shocking was that he had blood covering his arms up to his elbows, and his shirt soaked in blood, bright red against the immaculate white.

Vegeta was cruel, many times. She knew how to be mean and make enemies scream in pain when she needed to make them confess something at Freeza's command... but he had never seen Raditz in that state. He looked like pure rage. Nappa told him:

"Wash yourself. And get out of those clothes, good God, I'm glad he has a change of clothes for you."

"What have you done with Boter?" asked Vegeta disbelieving.

Raditz laughed, dipping his arms in the water and seeing it dyeing with blood.

"I don't think there is enough water here."

"I'll get more," said Nappa, taking the jug and leaving.

An uncomfortable silence fell on both of them. Vegeta repeated the question:

"What did you do with Boter?"

"I took some blood from him, as you can see," said Raditz, still with the grief smile on his face. "I said I was angry, didn't I? But I didn't even think about you... I didn't need to," he said, "but he did say something that made me angry."

"Did he offend Hime?" asked Vegeta, who knew about his attachment to the dancer.

"No more than I would offend." Raditz said, "I'm not at ease with her."

"So, what did Boter do?"

Raditz looked at Vegeta for a long time. They didn't like each other, they didn't trust each other, but he needed to say it aloud.

"They say that my mother was a gorgeous woman, you know? Many people were jealous of Barddock. Nappa himself told me that once."

"Boter offended your mother?"

Raditz smiled again and said:

"I had the knife, you know? I just wanted to stab his heart, like I like to do with traitorous bastards. But he called my father a traitor, which I usually put up with, and my mother a bitch" he stared Vegeta, his eyes very black because of her dilated pupils of hate "and said she was a whore."

"Boter was an asshole. The kind that talks any bullshit."

"He's now an asshole with no arms, no legs, and no head." Raditz laughed, "and he was alive until I finished. But first, I ripped out his tongue. And while he was trying to scream, he was suffocating in blood... he deserved it. He never calls anyone's mother a whore again, that scumbag."

At that moment, Nappa came in, with a towel and more water and said:

"Quickly. Very fast. We changed the plans, and we have to run as fast as possible."

"Why? "said Vegeta, standing up.

"Because there are posters with your face all over the city."

Raditz laughed, and Vegeta faced him, full of hate.

"It seems that your pretty rich widow gave you up, short boy."

Yamcha received all his belongings at the police station. Next to him, his friend Pual avoided facing Bulma, who seemed extremely angry. Officer Hitto had finished his duty and had gone home. The replacement was a goofy guy, a little bit headstrong and extremely slow called Monaka. He would invent Yamcha's assets with the speed of a slug:

"A copper whisker. a cowhide... a lighter... a leather saddle... a rope..."

Yamcha was picking up her belongings with a radiant smile that contrasted directly with Bulma's wrinkled face. When the other one finished, he asked:

"What about our horses and the wagon?"

"The wagon is in the courtyard... the horse in the municipal stable. You were lucky. You were sentenced to pay for the crime against the economy, but the girl there paid the fine. That's why you're being released, you know..." said Officer Monaka with his dragged voice.

"Can I get the wagon?" said Yamcha, still smiling.

"Do you want an agent to accompany you?"

"No, no!" he said, "I'll go alone."

He went to the courtyard where there was a closed wagon with an extravagant painting that said, 'Miraculous Elixir of Doctor Yamcha's virility!' Bulma looked at it and was absurdly embarrassed. She no longer contained herself and said:

"I received a letter saying that you had died, Yamcha."

"Yeah, I know, baby... it was a strategy. I intended to come back in a few weeks" he disappeared inside the carriage, and she stayed outside, outraged.

"But what the hell was you up to?"

He put his head out of the wagon and said:

"Is there a cop around?"

"No, Yamcha, answer my questions!"

"Then we can leave... I said, Pual, they wouldn't find it!"

"Guapo!" said Pual, finally looking happy.

Yamcha left the wagon carrying a box full of bottles, apparently full of liquid. Then he turned to Bulma and said:

"There was no gold in that mine, and I didn't want to go back to the city poorer than I left... so I got some means to get money... none of them very honest but none as dirty as stealing. Come on, I need to get my horse from the municipal stable."

"What do you mean..."

"I was on a casino ship with Pual, and we were able to triple our money... before they threw us in the river. Fortunately, all the money was in our vests, and we swam very well. Then I had the idea of the elixir... and Pual disguised himself as a satisfied old man, he has no idea how much money we got, Bulma, it was better than a year in that horrible mine!"

They walked to the municipal stable, and Yamcha recovered his beautiful horse, grey with small dark spots, and Pual's, which was brown and common.

"Are you telling me that you lived the last two years as a con man?"

"Not all the time. I also competed as a roper in some rodeos... what matters is in here." He had tied the box with the bottles in the loin of Pual's animal and offered her his croup, which he mounted, still with a frown in her face. "Shall we go to your hotel?"

"Not at all! You will stay at the warehouse with Yajirobe. And when we arrive in West Sayan, I decide what to do with you! I think I'll ask Sheriff Satan to hang you!"

"But sweetie, you paid the fine, I'm no longer a crook, thanks to you!" he said, with a radiant smile. And I profited horrors with the miraculous elixir. I can open a business in West Sayan, now, you know?

"None of this changes the fact that I spent two years grieving for a dead husband who actually was alive. Consider yourself lucky because I didn't leave him there, moldy while waiting for the horse auction to cover you're fine," she said coldly. "Frankly, not if what's worse, being a widow or being married to you!"

He swallowed dry. It wouldn't be that easy to win back his wife, he thought.

Raditz was riding his horse and would leave town on his own. He was not wanted and did not take risks. Nappa had got a wagon for him and Vegeta to leave town and another cassock, this one for him. He had towed their horses to the wagon, and brought a wooden coffin, made some holes in the sidewalls for Vegeta to breathe.

"Come in," he said, "and be very quiet. There's a block at the town's exit, and hopefully, they won't open the coffin. If they do, play dead. And be convincing if you don't want to end up dead in a suit. When we get to Freeza, we understand each other."

He didn't say anything. He just went into the coffin and was very quiet, waiting. There was nothing else to do. He would lose track of time in there. And it was complicated because he would only think about Bulma's betrayal. He could have sworn that she wouldn't turn him in.

"Well, it's the last one," said Yamcha. "He had broken each of the bottles in the crate. They were painted inside to look full of liquid, but they contained, in fact, a lot of money, a small fortune in crumpled, and little musty notes that he displayed proudly.

Bulma looked at him, with his hands on his waist and said, outraged:

"No matter how much money, it's not worth the two years I believed you were dead, Yamcha!"

"But sweetheart... I was ashamed!"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD."

"But I'm alive!" he smiled, "and you can take away the grief, dear."

She looked at him indignantly and said:

"I don't know if I can stand the shame of having been cheated by you. Sleep there, and soon we'll talk. I don't want to see your face before Wednesday when we left on the couch."

He stared as Bulma walked away. Yajirobe and Pual looked at him and, suddenly, Yajirobe said:

"If I was a woman, this money would have convinced me. But Bulma is a little more stubborn."

"Well, shut up," he said irritated."

Nappa was relieved when they were approached at the barrier. Still, he convinced the policeman that he would bury Brother Benedict in an abbey outside of New Sadala, at his brother's will. Then, when they thought it was safe enough, they abandoned the wagon, the priest's clothes, and rode the horses, running to Raditz, which was waiting for them near Oozaru. They went to the Paozu canyon towards Freeza's hideout on the outskirts of Vegetown, where they arrived at dawn.

Freeza couldn't stand being woken up, much less with bad news, so that, only at noon, they managed to report everything that had happened to the boss, who looked at them with that stern and indecipherable look. He looked at Raditz and said:

"He did a good job. You can go get your reward ... and a jewel to take to your Hime."

That left Nappa and Vegeta. He looked at them both and said:

"Nappa, Nappa... you always protecting your little prince... but from the evils, the lesser. Not being able to walk freely anymore seems to be a punishment enough. You should have been more prudent, Vegeta..." he shook his head, regretting. "And didn't even steal his widowhood, I hope he didn't fall in love."

Vegeta faced Freeza. He knew it was a test, and he wouldn't have new chances. He thought of Bulma. She had betrayed him, and it was only fair to pay in the same coin.

"I got nothing from her... but I got the information."

"Hohohoho. Is it anything useful?"

"Remember when you wanted to steal dynamite from the copper mines but gave up because the distance wasn't worth it? Because we will soon have a lot of dynamite to steal and sell to those crazy people in the South. They will start dynamiting the stones between Paozu and Mount Sayan to open a tunnel for the railroad to pass through. It will be in less than two months."

"Interesting, interesting... hohoho," Freeza said, "but it's not much information for such a vacillating size, don't you think?"

"And I discovered the new route of the stage. The route is through the Indian lands and stopping at Vila Pinguim. The guy who pulled Kiwi's finger is the new guard; he suggested this route. The coach leaves New Sadala next Wednesday."

"This is relevant information."

"We can make a good assault," said Vegeta, thinking about seeing Bulma once again, but this time, not with such goodwill.

"We can, but not you. I'll give this mission to Zarbon because of your mistake. Maybe next time I'll send you, Vegeta. When there are no beautiful widows to try your spirit."

He felt indignant but said nothing. He knew why he was being punished. And, deep down, it was not very good to think that he had betrayed Bulma, even if she had also betrayed him.

Notes:

1. Hitto is not necessarily a king of ethics when it comes to obtaining information. And that puts Bulma and Vegeta on a collision course. I told you it wouldn't be that easy, remember?

2. And in the equation comes the young and not so ethical husband (in every sense) of Bulma, Yamcha. I told you that there would be surprises and twists and turns in this fic... and this is just one of them.

3. Raditz is really a killer, but not the cold killer. As you can see from what he did with Boter, it's the emotions that command him, not the reason, really.

4. The double betrayal, Bulma delivering Vegeta's identity and Vegeta delivering the information he got with Bulma only happened because of the misunderstanding. As you can imagine, the opposite of passion is not anger, but indifference. Keep hope, my dear VegeBuls.

5. The thing I like the most about this chapter is the talk of Yajirobe, hahaha.

6. In the next chapter, Goku will prove if he is the right stagecoach guard.

7. The quote of this chapter, as it couldn't be otherwise, is from Bulma. She now, like Scarlett, only wants to go home.