This wasn't what Krillin had imagined he'd be doing when he was promoted from uniformed patrol to junior detective.
He was in a studio-style hotel room in an expensive high rise, towering behind the police station precinct he and Bulma were assigned to. It was a gutsy choice for a safe house – right in the heart of corrupted West City, within walking distance from a police force that no doubt was infiltrated with Frieza's own men. Though Vegeta's cooperation with the police was a well-kept secret, in case someone did find out, they would never suspect the luxurious hotel suites in the high rise as the safe house location. Bulma, being a complete workaholic, had spent many a night at the hotel to be closer to work when cases demanded overtime. He was not much better, and often did the same, as did many of the other police officers they worked with. They could hide in plain sight, coming and going from the hotel, and no one else would suspect a thing.
Still, not taking any chances, he had chosen a room at the very top on the twelfth floor where there were no balconies near them. He had also barricaded the windows and installed newer, heavier duty locks on the door before Bulma and Vegeta arrived. Finally, Krillin had checked out the two adjoining rooms, as well as the rooms below them, for enhanced privacy and security.
What he had not counted on was Bulma tasking him with staying with Vegeta after she managed to sneak the man into the room. She had explained to her junior detective that Vegeta was still recovering from a concussion, thus he needed someone to stay and keep an eye on him. However, Krillin had worked with Bulma long enough to know better; he recognized that she was really asking him to make sure Vegeta didn't leave, and to offer him protection if necessary. Though the idea that the vigilante who had terrorized West City needed protection from anybody was laughable, he had reluctantly agreed.
Krillin was uncomfortable, but Vegeta had hardly looked like the terrifying vigilante he'd shot in the diner. His disguise, combined with his left arm in a sling and the bruises and stitches on his face, made him seem more like an exhausted and beaten man than a terrifying vigilante.
Vegeta hadn't acknowledged him at all that first day, preferring to lay down and sleep, which he promptly did. Krillin had then watched, first in curiosity, then in fascination, the way that Bulma had removed Vegeta's cap before running her fingers through his freed, upswept hair. She then took his face in her hands as she gently examined his stitches, turning his head slightly while Vegeta easily slept through her touch. Krillin wondered if the tenderness he saw was real, or just in the moment.
Krillin's panic had returned though when she went back to work. He knew that the detective taking point in finding the vigilante needed to be seen on the front lines, if they were to maintain the ruse that Vegeta was still on the loose. Still, despite the vigilante being in a deep sleep, there was a small part of Krillin that was afraid to be left alone with him – especially since he was the one who had shot him in the first place.
Don't worry, Bulma had said before she left him to his fate. He won't hurt you.
To her credit, she had been right. Vegeta had slept that entire first day, not moving an inch. He was still out like a light when Bulma arrived later that night, swapping places with Krillin as she dismissed her junior detective for the night. She ordered him to return the following morning to resume his post, and thus, they had begun a routine where he stayed with Vegeta during the daylight hours, with Bulma taking over watch at nightfall.
It was during Krillin's second day at the safe house that Vegeta had finally woken up. Krillin remembered being tense as he watched Vegeta stir in bed that day, while he himself sat near the kitchenette as far away as he could from the man. Despite Krillin appearing calm as Vegeta slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting, and despite knowing that Vegeta was unarmed, he had still been sweating profusely from his anxiety.
Vegeta had then looked at him and scowled, his dark eyes laser focused as he examined the junior detective with an intensity that made Krillin want to look away. He had refused to do so though, staring back at the man who had single-handedly brought an entire criminal organization almost to its knees.
"You the asshole cop that shot me in the shoulder?"Vegeta had roughly demanded.
"…Maybe?"
"Your aim is shit."
"Who said I missed?"
Vegeta had then snorted, a smirk teasing at his lips.
The two had been just fine ever since.
A week had passed now since they had taken over the hotel room and converted it into a safe house. Krillin had his police-issued rifle taken apart on the table in front of him, diligently cleaning the pieces. The junior detective was eyeing Vegeta who was across the hotel room. Though they were on fine enough terms, Krillin had quickly learned that Vegeta was a man of few words, preferring to spend most of his time exercising in the space available to him. In this way, he kept himself mentally engaged on his own in what Krillin could only assume was a routine he had mastered in juvenile detention.
That day was different though. Vegeta seemed restless, pacing more than usual, like a caged, angry lion that wanted to unleash its fury on the nearest prey. Having abandoned his arm sling, his exercising was the most aggressive it had been, as though he was desperate to burn energy. At the angry, brooding look on his face, Krillin hadn't even tried engaging him in small talk. He had instead just turned on the TV to some mundane cooking channel so there would be a little background noise.
Finally, Vegeta sat on the bed. He leaned forward, his back to Krillin as he faced the wall. His bare back was sweaty from an insane series of one-handed push-ups with his good arm; Krillin frowned as he regarded the other man's tense body posture.
"Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?" Krillin ventured, the silence growing unbearable. "Bulma should be leaving work soon, she can pick up something on the way. You kinda cleaned out the rest of the f-"
"I don't give a fuck," Vegeta snarled.
"Alright," Krillin quickly said, taking out his phone to text Bulma, through the app Vegeta had forced them all onto for better security.
K: What's your ETA? He is really moody today, more than usual.
B: Leaving soon. I finally got us the rendezvous for tonight. I'll update you when I get there.
K: Great. Can you also pick up some food? He ate everything, so we've got nothing left.
B: Ok, no problem. What does he want to eat?
K: He said, and I quote, "I don't give a fuck."
B: Oh boy. Alright. I'll message him myself.
Krillin lowered his phone, picking up the pieces of his rifle as he began to reassemble it. He watched as Vegeta's cell phone vibrated on the bed next to him. The phone was quickly snatched up, and then Krillin grinned knowingly when he saw the tension visibly ease in Vegeta's back and shoulders while he looked down at his phone.
B: Hey there. I'm heading out soon. How are you?
V: I'm fine.
B: You hungry? How about some wings for dinner?
V: Fine by me.
B: Good. I'll see you in a bit.
Vegeta hesitated as he stared down at his phone, his fingers twitching as he contemplated. Finally, he sent one more message.
V: See you soon. Be careful.
Bulma's response was immediate.
B: Always am.
He then tossed the phone aside, and sighed, running one hand up through his hair. He was frustrated and starting to feel claustrophobic being trapped in the hotel room. He had lived a majority of his life outdoors, from his criminal life as a youth roaming the streets of West City, to his military life in other countries as a Marine, to his civilian life working outside in construction; he had always thrived with the freedom only the outdoors could bring. As it was, he hadn't felt so trapped since he was locked up in juvenile detention as a kid. It was starting to feel suffocating. But unless he backed out of his deal with the police, he could not leave the hotel room…though at the moment, his biggest problem was that there currently was no deal with the police.
It was not for lack of trying. When not pretending to be hunting for him, Bulma was working with the DA on fleshing out a deal behind the scenes. It was taking longer than he had hoped. Though Bulma said it was because they were still ironing out the details, Vegeta suspected that the DA's deal was one Bulma wasn't comfortable with – which, he figured, probably meant that the DA wanted him to do jail time. It was definitely not his personal preference, but so long as Frieza died beforehand, then he cared little for what was left of his own life afterwards. Fortunately for him, Bulma cared enough for the both of them.
Bulma kept stressing patience; she insisted that time would let things quiet down, let him recover more from his injuries, and let her hash things out with the DA. But the more the days passed, the more cynical he became, as Vegeta bitterly brooded that he likely could have ended everything by now on his own. He was not a patient man, and without tangible progress, he was nearing the limits of what he could tolerate.
It was only at night when he was alone with Bulma in the safe house, when they enthusiastically made love for hours before inevitably falling asleep in each other's arms, that he could briefly forget about all of it. She soothed him with her touch, with her kiss, with her softness. She took the edge off, allowing him to hold on longer, giving him patience when he thought he had none left. She always renewed his strength, letting him get through one more day.
And so, he continued to wait, forcing himself to give the police a real chance – only for her.
He sighed again. His current situation was not ideal, but it was not the only thing plaguing him that day, prompting him to snatch his phone back up. Fortunately, it had not taken much to convince Bulma to let Goku be "in the know", which Vegeta suspected she had allowed for both his sake and Goku's. Although Goku only knew that Vegeta was under Bulma's protection, and did not know where he was, it still helped keep Vegeta sane to have someone else to talk to during the day. It was something he took advantage of now.
V: How are you?
G: Hey! I'm doing much better. I should get discharged soon, thank goodness! Chief is suspending me for a while for not coming forth about the vigilante, but it conveniently lines up with the time off I was gonna take off to recover at home anyway. So I think it'll be alright.
V: Good.
G: What about you?
V: I'm fine.
G: Yeah? I know this date has always been tough, because of your mom's passing.
V: No harder than any other.
G: Do you want to talk about it?
Vegeta briefly thought about it, scowling. Some part of him could never help the grief that always flared every year on this day. Still, he had more pressing concerns, and thus he bottled down the emotion with expertise.
V: That won't be necessary.
G: Alright. I'm here though if you change your mind.
Vegeta scoffed, tossing the phone aside again. He was scratching the back of his head, contemplating another round of exercise to rid the frustration that was steadily mounting inside, when he heard the custom knock that Bulma used.
Krillin stood up, drawing his loaded handgun. Vegeta didn't move, watching over his shoulder from his bed. Krillin moved to the door, looked through the peep hole, then began unlocking the series of locks they had put on the door. He then pulled the door open for Bulma, who walked right in, carrying several large paper bags in her arms. Krillin promptly closed the door, redoing all of the locks.
"Oof, it's coming down out there," Bulma breathed, putting all the paper bags on the small, round dining table in the room. She looked over towards Vegeta, making eye contact with him, before smiling. "I got us a call tonight with the DA to finish the terms of the deal, as he is ready to talk to you now. But first – you hungry?"
Vegeta regarded her for a couple of seconds as he frowned. Finally though, he nodded as he stood. "Fine, but I'll shower first," he gruffly said, and then disappeared into the bathroom.
"How's he been?" Bulma whispered once the water was running, as she and Krillin unpacked the food and served it on plates the hotel had provided.
"He seems antsy and wound up today, like something is bothering him," Krillin replied, serving himself a plate of wings. "But you got through to the DA, finally, huh?"
"Yeah, finally," Bulma sighed. "He did not want to budge from Vegeta serving 5 years. Then we got it down to 1 year, then 6 months. Now he's saying he is willing to waive jail time and agree to Vegeta just being immediately placed on probation. But first, he wants to talk to him directly and see what intel he can really offer…he also has an approach for how to move forward against Frieza, but I don't know the details on that yet. We will go over it tonight."
"Oh man, that's all fantastic," Krillin said, grinning as he took a seat at the table. "No jail time, huh? I'm surprised. The DA seems the type to make someone like Vegeta an example. They don't call him The Destroyer for nothing."
"We probably have the people to thank for that. The public is showing crazy support for Vegeta through social media. I saw a poll just this morning that said 90 percent of West City considers him a hero…with elections coming up later this year for the DA, I think it's in his political interest to show leniency."
"Makes sense. He wants to keep his job, after all. So, do you want me to stay for the phone call?"
"No, the call is not for a few more hours. You can eat here with us, then go get some rest," she said, also taking a seat while looking at her watch. It was just past 7pm. "I'll fill you in when you come back in the morning. I really appreciate you helping keep an eye on our guy in the meantime, by the way. I know he can be a little intimidating."
"It's alright," Krillin shrugged. "He's actually not so bad, once you get past that intense look of his."
Bulma looked over as Vegeta emerged from the bathroom in black cargo pants and a white tank top while he towel dried his hair.
"Yeah, I think so too," she quietly agreed with a smile.
Finally, after they had all eaten and Krillin had taken his leave, Vegeta sat with a hard scowl on his face as he drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. Bulma sat down next to him, and he instantly shifted his hard gaze to her. Unfazed, she smiled at him and covered his hand with her own. She squeezed his hand with reassurance, making his fingers stop.
"Ready?"
"Tch. I've been ready," he scoffed with annoyance. Despite his tone, he moved his hand just enough to squeeze hers back.
"Alright, let's do it then."
She set her phone down after dialing, then put it on speaker. Vegeta didn't loosen his grip on her hand the whole time the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Beerus, is that you?"
"Yes, Bulma, thank you for calling."
"Beerus, we are here with the man I will refer to only as the 'Vice President', or 'Vice' for short," she explained, using a code name that had Vegeta's real initials. "Although we are making this call through a secured and encrypted app, for additional safety, we will not be using his real name. Now, Vice, this is West City District Attorney Beerus on the line. We have been discussing details for an immunity deal for you. Beerus, can you explain?"
"Yes, thank you, Bulma. First of all, Vice, I want to thank you for your cooperation with us. It is much appreciated, and is the right thing to do. Now then…I have a deal for you. Assuming you have useful intel to share, I am willing to overlook jail time, in favor for immediate probation for one year. You will also have blanket immunity for anything and everything that may come out of the investigation into Frieza's criminal organization. Considering the sheer magnitude and violence of your crimes, this is extremely generous, for there is a large portion of the law enforcement community that wants to see you serve time. No one is above the law, and favoritism does not help repair our image of corruption."
Vegeta's nose twitched, his eyebrows drawing together. Bulma squeezed his hand a little more.
"However…with that said, what do you have to offer us? Keep in mind that the deal is based on you giving us useful intel. If you cannot do that, then I'm afraid I cannot guarantee that you will avoid a jail sentence."
"Tch." Vegeta stretched his neck a little, closing his eyes and frowning in thought. "What do you want to know?"
"Can you give us all the moles in the police, and in my office, for starters?"
Vegeta picked up a cold beer with his free hand that Bulma had given him before the call, leaning his head back to chug it for a few seconds. He finally lowered the bottle and grunted.
"I cannot guarantee that I can give you all of them, as I have been out of Frieza's ranks for a long time, so I will not recognize the newer names…however, give me a list of everyone who works there, and I will identify the rats I know."
It took only a few minutes before Bulma and Beerus provided him with the lists. One by one, they ran the names by Vegeta, who easily identified those who had been working for Frieza for over a decade. His knowledge sent both Bulma and Beerus into a frenzied state as they both made notes on who needed to be fired and prosecuted in the near future. They did not want to alert Frieza just yet though, so the two agreed to sync up again the next day with Chief Kai to formulate a plan on how to clean out both offices.
"What else?" Vegeta gruffly demanded, once Bulma and Beerus had agreed on a time and place to meet the next day.
"Can you give us more information on where he does his operations?" Bulma asked, making him look over at her while raising an eyebrow. "We can't ever seem to pin this guy down, even when we manage to put surveillance on him. He owns too many properties, and is always on the move. Plus, his security is tight. He only lets himself be seen when he wants to be seen…"
"Get me a map of the city," Vegeta ordered.
A few minutes later, he was standing, a large map of West City spread on the table in front of him. Bulma got him a black marker, and he immediately began circling several locations.
"The circles are his offices, where he works legitimate businesses. He only ventures there when there is media spotlight on him, or on occasion to keep up appearances."
He then drew squares around a few other locations.
"The squares are for places he frequently visits, to run his criminal organization. It's where the decisions are made. This one in particular is like his headquarters," he said, drawing a square several times around one compound for emphasis. "There is a tunneling system that leads here from his legitimate banking business over here," he explained, drawing a line to one of the circles.
"On top of that, the stars are where the real criminal activity takes place…you've got 12 locations all over the city. Abandoned warehouses, shipping containers, meat packing stores, you name it," Vegeta explained, starring different locations fluidly. "Frieza almost never visits these places himself, it's quite rare. However, this is where his soldiers are trained, where his top men meet with the rats in the justice system for intel, where bribes happen for high politicians, judges, and journalists…and also where his enemies are taken to be beaten, tortured, and murdered. The locations are too isolated for anyone to hear you scream."
"How recent is your information, Vice?" the DA challenged. "As you say, it's been some time since you were in his ranks."
"My results speak for themselves, don't they?" Vegeta challenged. "The patterns are all the same now as they were back then. Why change what isn't broken, after all? The police have been completely ineffective for years," he growled, making Bulma flinch a little at his words. He glanced at her and amended, "Well, most of them, anyway. So, what more do you want?"
"This alone is worth the deal, Beerus," Bulma cut in, taking a picture of the map that Vegeta had drawn on. She then texted it to the DA.
"Indeed…" Beerus mumbled, looking at the picture on his end when it came through. "Very well. I want to know more, but this is a great start. I am willing to offer you the deal. I will prepare the paperwork tonight, and you will have it tomorrow."
Vegeta nodded. "Fine."
"Now then, as far as moving forward with Frieza…" Beerus started. "What do you think about confronting him, while wearing a wire, to help us get the incriminating information we really need? If you can get him to admit to ordering the hit on your brother-"
Vegeta stiffened at that as Bulma heatedly cut in, "Absolutely not. We did not go through everything we did to find Vice and help him, just to serve him up on a silver platter to Frieza. You know that Frieza will kill him if he gets his hands on him."
"You can prevent that though, Bulma," Beerus calmly said. "You can set up an operation with the police to have eyes on Vice, and come in at once before any harm comes to him."
Bulma frowned at that as Vegeta slowly commented, "So…you want to use me as bait."
"He wants you. You have dealt a significant blow to his operations as of late. I believe he is willing to make himself vulnerable if it means getting to you."
"He wants to kill him, you mean," Bulma clarified, anger in her blue eyes. "It's a no go. Vice is not bait-"
"I'll do it," Vegeta gruffly agreed, making Bulma whirl to face him.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she cried out, her emotion overwhelming her. "Even if we DID monitor you the entire time, it would only take a second for Frieza to kill you!"
"Good," Vegeta roughly said, making Bulma's mouth drop in shock. He shrugged carelessly, looking away from her to make it easier on himself as he methodically commented, "If he killed me and all the police were watching, you all would be able to put him away for life-"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Bulma yelled, making Vegeta look back at her in surprise.
Everyone was silent for a few seconds, with Bulma and Vegeta staring each other down, until Beerus cleared his throat.
"Let's reconvene tomorrow after we have all had time to sleep on it," the DA finally said. "In the meantime, I will draft the documentation for the immunity deal. I will also invite Chief Kai to tomorrow's phone conversation, so that we may discuss a strategy moving forward as it pertains to Frieza. High level only of course, details to be worked in person for more security."
"Thanks, we'll talk more tomorrow," Bulma said, swiftly ending the phone call. She then turned her sights on the man with her. "Really, Vegeta? We go through all of this to keep you safe, and you're in a rush to put your life on the line?" she asked in exasperation.
"There is no guarantee that I would die in such an operation, assuming things are set up appropriately. In addition, although you as law enforcement want to bring Frieza in alive, my aim is to see him dead. If he tries to kill me, I will kill him first," Vegeta swore.
"What is this? Are you suicidal?" Bulma asked, making him glare at her. Today of all days was not the day for him to field such a loaded question, but she did not seem to remember the date from her background research. His expression eased when he saw her genuine concern as she examined him, and he swallowed heavily. "It's okay if you are, but the answer is to get you help, not to feed you to the worst criminal this side of the country."
"It's not that I'm suicidal, woman. It's just that my only focus is to see that bastard die in front of me. Whatever happens to me as a result, I don't care about. He dies, because he has to, because this all has to fucking end. And if it costs me my life in the process, then so be it, I don't give a shit," he sneered, turning on his heel and heading towards the bathroom. He didn't need to use it, but it was literally the only place in the hotel room where he could get a little distance to think.
"Well, I do give a shit," she angrily responded, hands on her hips. "So tough, because I WON'T authorize an operation that will get you killed, and you better believe that Chief Kai will listen to me!"
"It's my life, Bulma!" he yelled, spinning back to face her. Bulma's breath caught at the blazing emotion in his dark eyes as he furiously ranted, "It's not up to you what risks I take and don't take! I lost EVERYTHING because of him! My mother couldn't handle seeing me working for him, and my brother died on the fucking street like he was trash because of him! So don't presume to tell me what to do, when you don't even know how I fucking feel!"
"I would if you would just talk to me!"
"Why the hell do you even care?!"
"You selfish bastard, I care because I love you!"
Bulma nearly choked when she realized what she said, her face aghast. In her mounting anger and frustration, the words had flown out of her mouth without any thought or hesitation. Regardless, the trigger had been pulled, and there was no going back now. Standing several feet away, Vegeta stood, the anger on his face gone over her admission. She let out a shaky breath as she watched the emotions rapidly change over his face – he looked shocked, then dumbfounded, then finally, something akin to hurt.
Vegeta licked his lips, and then hoarsely said, "You…I'm not…" His face fell with anguish. "Bulma, you barely even know me."
"I know enough," Bulma countered, walking over to him. Vegeta felt like he lost some strength when she put her arms around his neck, making him sigh. She kept her eye contact with him as she continued, "I know it's fast, and intense, and crazy. But I know how I feel. And I know you. Not every last thing about you, but enough to know that you're good. Despite everything he tried to turn you into, you're a good man, Vegeta."
She then pulled him into a hug, which he immediately returned. Her confession, along with him missing his mother all day, overwhelmed him and had him almost in tears as his chest burned. Absently, he heard two brothers in his mind having a quiet discussion in a closet.
Boys cry too sometimes.
You don't.
I have, you just have never been around to see.
His vision swam, before he pressed his face against her neck. He shuddered as she kissed his neck and his shoulder while rubbing his back. Vegeta tightened his grip around her, as though he never wanted to let her go.
They stayed that way for some time, holding each other close, until Bulma finally broke the silence.
"I know you're still hurting over your mom and your brother, especially because it hasn't been long since Tarble died, and that's okay," she whispered. Vegeta did not respond, but he did hold her a little tighter. "I didn't mean to tell you this way, and I don't need you to say or do anything back. But I'm here, and so is Goku, who loves you like a brother. You haven't lost everything, Vegeta. So can you please promise that you won't put your life at risk unnecessarily? I'll figure out a better way, because I can't lose you now."
Vegeta took a deep breath, before nodding against her.
"Thank you. Now, let me change the dressing on your shoulder, and then we can go to sleep," she suggested.
Vegeta numbly nodded again as he pulled away, prompting her to kiss him on the cheek. He watched her as she walked off into the bathroom with the kit she had retrieved from the medic, exhaling in surrender.
He knew, deep down, that he did not deserve her. If he was truly a good man like she thought he was, he would let her down now and end this.
Instead, Vegeta roughly brushed at his eyes before pulling off his tank top, tossing it aside. A moment later, and he sat down heavily in a chair at the table where they had eaten and spoken to the DA. He then waited for Bulma to check his bandaged shoulder, like she did every night.
Ten minutes later, she was putting antibiotic cream on his cauterized gunshot wound while Vegeta worked on a second bottle of beer. She was cleaning his exit wound a short while later, checking the staples her father's medic had put in, when their comfortable silence was suddenly interrupted by her phone ringing. It was still on the table, so Vegeta grabbed it and handed it to her.
Bulma was going to answer it, when there was suddenly urgent knocking at the door, matching Krillin's usual knocking code. They both froze; Krillin was not due back until early morning.
Without even asking her, Vegeta stood and swiftly lifted the loaded gun right out of Bulma's holster she had on her hip. Bulma opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when he raised an index finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. He moved silently closer to the door, making Bulma inwardly curse; she was supposed to be offering the protection here. But Vegeta was already at the peep hole, having disarmed her in more ways than one. Even so, her eyes went over to the small closet in the room, where there was a loaded rifle hidden in case of emergency.
Vegeta instantly undid all the locks and opened the door, with Krillin rushing inside.
"Bulma," he panted, as Vegeta quickly closed the door again and redid the locks. "There's been an incident on the north side of West City."
"What? What kind of incident?" Bulma demanded.
Instead of answering, Krillin picked up the remote and turned on the TV, putting on the news.
All three of them looked on, stunned, at the breaking news. The news anchors were frantically informing viewers about an explosion, right in the heart of a massive movie theater. The rain had unfortunately passed before the explosion, and there was a sea of fire and smoke rising. Panicked people were screaming and running, with firefighters, police, and paramedics arriving on the scene, all behind the journalist who was reporting on site.
"Coming to you live this evening from a gruesome scene here at one of the biggest movie theaters in West City," the journalist reported, a tall and lean blond man with a huge microphone. "Casualties of innocents are being counted as we speak after a bomb went off. It is being reported through tips to the police that the vigilante, Vegeta Prince Jr., is responsible for this violence."
"Oh my god," Bulma whispered, horrified, as the color drained from Vegeta's face. "It's a set up, they're trying to frame you!"
"Yeah, and because hardly anyone knows he's actually with us, we can't clear his name right now," Krillin grimly said. "Chief wants you there ASAP. You're the lead detective on the vigilante case, so maybe you can help with the story being fed to the journalists. And, you know, see if you can get clues as to who really did this."
"I think we know who really did this," Vegeta growled. "He wants to change public opinion about me."
"This is not Frieza's usual strategy."
"He must be getting desperate." Vegeta turned, eyeing the lead detective with him. "You shouldn't go right now, Bulma."
"It's all hand on deck. It's much more suspicious if she doesn't go," Krillin argued.
Bulma took out her phone from her pocket, sighing when she saw that the missed call was indeed from her boss.
"I have to go over there," she muttered, putting her phone back in her pocket. Vegeta scowled as she turned to him, extending her hand. He put the gun in her palm, handle facing her, and she instantly holstered it. "You two stay here. Krillin, finish his bandages, please. I'll be back later."
Krillin nodded, but Vegeta looked uncomfortable, eyebrows rigidly drawn together as he stared at her.
"It'll all be fine, don't worry. I'll text you later when things settle down, okay?" she assured him.
Vegeta's nose twitched. "Fine…just be careful."
"Always am."
Twenty minutes later, Vegeta and Krillin were sitting side by side on the small sofa in the room, watching the TV coverage of the explosion. Vegeta was leaning forward, frowning as he scrutinized the reporting that was coming in. There had been casualties, but less than 10; the bomb had gone off after hours when the theater had already run its last showing. He was grateful because it could have been a lot worse, but he was sickened at the thought that anyone would associate him with such action. Even when he worked for Frieza, he had never harmed anyone who wasn't also involved in criminal activity. Civilians were off-limits, and always had been.
He was brought out of his thoughts when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Vegeta took out his phone instantly, seeing that it was Goku calling him. He frowned in puzzlement, for they had agreed not to make phone calls and stick to messaging. He figured it must have been important. Standing up, he moved over towards the far wall past the bed and answered the call.
"What is it, Kakarot?" he demanded as the line connected. "You know we are not supposed to be making phone calls."
"Kakarot, hm?" a familiar voice said on the other line, making Vegeta freeze in shock. "Oh, your police officer friend. Why, Vegeta, I'm so disappointed you never introduced me to such an upstanding officer."
"Frieza," Vegeta snarled dangerously, making Krillin look over at once. "Why are you calling me on Kakarot's phone? Where is he?" he furiously demanded.
Frieza chuckled. "Oh, that's no fun to give everything away all at once, Vegeta. But I sure did get your attention now, didn't I? And with that little explosion, the police will be preoccupied for some time."
Vegeta looked over his shoulder at Krillin, who was standing and pulling out his phone to text Bulma. He lifted a hand though, silently asking the junior detective to hold on and making Krillin pause.
"So that was you behind that explosion?" Vegeta said aloud, making Krillin's eyes widen. "You used to be more subtle, Frieza. Your old age must be catching up to you, resorting to framing me," he sneered, his dark eyes fuming. His left hand was balled up into a tight fist, spreading pain throughout his arm, but he did not care.
"Oh, I have no interest in framing you, Vegeta, don't be so dramatic. You won't live long enough to make it to jail anyway," Frieza laughed. "I just did not want us to be interrupted, that's all. Though I do admit that I was getting a little tired of the sheep blindly supporting you, so I figured I'd give them a different bone to chew on for a while.
"Now then, pay attention to me, Vegeta, if you want to see your friend alive again and in one piece. One wrong move from you – and I mean it, one wrong move – and your police friend will be dead. His wife and his son too. I am not playing games with you anymore, boy," Frieza sneered, his voice deadly. "Do you understand? Say that you understand."
Vegeta was practically shaking with rage as he turned to face the wall again. It felt like his very blood was boiling with wrath. Just like that, he felt like a child again, having to bite back his hatred, lest Frieza take it out on someone he cared about.
It took him several seconds before he could manage to grind out between clenched teeth, "I understand."
"Good. I want you to come to Devil's Point, alone, so that we may have a conversation about all the headaches you have given me over the last month. Do not engage the police or anyone else in the process. If I get even an inkling that you have gone to the cops, Vegeta, I will destroy your police friend's family, then kill him last so he watches every minute of their deaths. Oh, and I have another friend of yours too."
"Vegeta!" someone called from the distance, and Vegeta grit his teeth harder when he recognized it as Nappa's voice.
"You have thirty minutes, Vegeta."
The call then disconnected. Vegeta lowered it to his side, breathing hard as his mind spiraled. Was it a trap? It couldn't be, he rationalized; he had heard Nappa, and Frieza had called from Goku's phone. Nappa, his friend, and Goku, the only brother he had left – they were in danger, and he needed to respond.
Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Vegeta expertly settled his rage so he could think clearly. The location was one of the starred locations on the map behind him, and he knew it intimately. It would take him about twenty minutes to get there. He looked over his shoulder as Krillin came up next to him.
"Vegeta, what the hell! That was Frieza that just called you?" Krillin demanded.
Vegeta nodded, then narrowed his eyes. "Did you contact Bulma?"
"No."
"Good," Vegeta gruffly said, walking back around the bed. He snatched up his white tank top and pulled it down quickly over his head, before sitting and hauling his black military-style boots over. He rapidly began putting them on. "I have to go."
"What?! What the hell is going on?"
"Frieza has Kakarot – or Goku, as you like to call him. He called me on Kakarot's phone," Vegeta answered matter-of-factly, tightening the laces on his boots. He then stood and walked over to the closet. To Krillin's utter shock, Vegeta opened the closet door and easily pulled out the rifle that he and Bulma thought they had hidden well underneath spare pillows on the top shelf. "He also has another friend of mine, Nappa," Vegeta muttered, expertly checking the ammunition on the rifle. "If I delay, he will kill them."
"I have to tell Bulma," Krillin anxiously said. Vegeta eyed him out of the corner of his gaze as Krillin subtly moved between him and the door.
"No. Not yet," Vegeta ordered, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. "No cops, those were his orders. Bulma will either call it in, thereby alerting Frieza that I broke his rule and got the cops involved, or the crazy woman will just go try to find me herself, thereby putting herself in danger. I can't have either situation. You can tell her in 30 minutes after I leave. He is at Devil's Point, it's the most southern starred point on the map. By the time Bulma gets there, though, this will be over."
"Vegeta," Krillin desperately said, moving so his back now was against the door leading out. Vegeta paused in front of him, scowling at him. "I can't let you leave. I have to call this in. Goku is a cop, and if he's been taken, I can't-"
"Krillin," Vegeta stated firmly, making the junior detective blink at the use of his name. He had assumed Vegeta didn't even know what it was. "I would rather not force you to move out of my way, but I will if I have to."
Krillin did not miss the slight shift of the man's rifle that was slung behind his back. All of a sudden, he remembered Vegeta using the heel of a rifle to knock him out cold when he had launched his assault on the police precinct. He hesitated a couple of seconds, before deciding to let Vegeta go; he rationalized that he could immediately let Bulma know the situation once Vegeta was gone.
Krillin hesitated just a moment longer, but when Vegeta shifted his rifle slightly again, the junior detective turned to unlock the door.
He was therefore completely unprepared for Vegeta instantly seizing him from behind in a sleeper hold, wrenching him backwards. Krillin tried to gasp for air as he struggled valiantly to free himself, but Vegeta was taller and stronger, and far more experienced with grappling. He easily outmaneuvered Krillin, his grip hard and tight, though it did make his left shoulder flare with pain.
"Sorry, but I can't let you contact her too soon or it will jeopardize everything," Vegeta muttered, as Krillin's struggling started to lose steam. Vegeta swallowed, his earlier emotion burning in his chest as he thought of Bulma while Krillin started going limp in his hold. It hurt him immensely to break his promise to her, but he had no choice.
"Tell her that I'm sorry," he whispered, just before Krillin passed out.
Vegeta then lowered the smaller man to the floor, took Krillin's loaded handgun, ammunition, and holster, and left the safe house.
Twenty minutes and a stolen car later, Vegeta was on his feet and moving in the darkness as he approached a warehouse by one of the abandoned docks. His rifle was up in front of him, firmly planted back against his right shoulder as he strained his hearing. He moved carefully around the stray half-dead bushes that littered the wet concrete while he finally made it to the rear corner of the brick warehouse. The air was still moist from the earlier rain, feeling thick in his throat.
Vegeta lowered his rifle then and checked around the corner; the windows were dark and broken, shattered by neighborhood kids over the years. Some dim street lighting was illuminating the side of the warehouse, but still, he saw nothing and heard no one. The entire place looked abandoned.
Squatting now, Vegeta pulled out his phone, and dialed Goku's number. He raised the phone to his ear, holding the rifle up in front of him with one hand.
He could hear the phone ringing from inside the warehouse, making him look up. It was close by. He let the call go, but no one answered, until Goku's voice immediately kicked in with his voicemail.
Vegeta hung up, putting his phone back in his pocket. He peeked around the corner again, saw it was clear, and then quickly got up and moved out along the side of the building where there was lighting. Once he reached the first door, he grabbed it and pushed it open roughly with his good shoulder. He ducked inside right away, raising his rifle and sweeping the area from left to right; he was in a broken down, old, abandoned office.
And in the center of it, Nappa was sitting with his hands tied behind him with rope, duct tape across his mouth. He raised his head when Vegeta came through the door, a look of regret coming over his face.
Vegeta instantly slung his rifle over his shoulder when he realized there was no immediate threat. He moved fast, going over and none-too-gently tearing off the duct tape from Nappa's mouth, making the larger man growl with pain.
"Quiet, stay quiet," Vegeta whispered, moving behind Nappa to work on his restraints. "Are you alright? Where is Kakarot?"
"I'm not sure," Nappa confided quietly, bringing his wrists in front of him once Vegeta had freed him. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't have come-"
"Frieza forced my hand and gave me no choice," Vegeta snapped in a hushed tone, slinging his rifle so it was right in front of him again. "Can you fight? I could use the backup."
Nappa nodded, taking Krillin's handgun that Vegeta extended to him. Vegeta then raised his index finger to his lips, then pointed to the door leading out of the office and towards the main warehouse floor. Nappa nodded again, letting the former Marine take the lead. Vegeta moved quietly, his boots silent, his heart rate and his hands all steady as he lowered one hand to the doorknob.
He quickly opened the door and instantly pushed his way through, raising his rifle again, with Nappa moving closely behind him.
"What the hell do you mean he left?!" Bulma yelled as she spun away from another police officer, who was taking down her analysis of the chaos at the movie theater. She quickly stalked away so that she could have some privacy as she angrily demanded, "What the hell happened?"
Krillin was sitting up, alone in the hotel room, rubbing his throat. "He got a phone call from Goku's phone, but it was Frieza, so he said he had to go – he said Frieza has Goku and Nappa. He said they were being kept at the most southern star on the map that he drew on, and that's where he was going…he said he wasn't allowed to involve cops, so he wanted me to wait to tell you," he miserably admitted, hating that Vegeta had once again slipped out of his grasp. "He uh…said to tell you that he was sorry. That's the last thing I remember before he knocked me out."
"Shit!" Bulma hissed, running her hand through her hair as she tried to think. She unconsciously turned towards the direction of the hospital where Goku was, her mind in overdrive. Frieza had never gone so far as to blatantly kidnap a police officer – if he was willing to do such a thing, then he was likely willing to harm Goku's family as well. But Chi-Chi had texted her not even twenty minutes ago from the hospital, saying that Goku was getting ready to be discharged…
"I gotta go, I need to make a phone call right now; you text me the address where Vegeta said he was going. You tell John, to meet you at a place a short distance away from there, right now!"
Bulma then hung up before Krillin could say a word, and instantly dialed Chi-Chi. Her heart was in her throat, each ring of the phone feeling like it was taking years.
"Bastard," she cursed Vegeta under her breath while she waited.
Finally, Chi-Chi answered. "Hello?"
Relief overwhelmed Bulma so much, she could have cried. "Chi-Chi, oh my god, are you alright? Are Goku and Gohan alright?"
"Yes, everything is fine, we are all fine, Bulma. What is going on?" Chi-Chi demanded, bewildered over the raw panic in her friend's voice.
"Where is Goku?" Bulma pressed urgently.
"He's here, right next to me."
"Put him on."
A second later, Goku's worried voice came on the phone. "Hello? Bulma? What's going on?"
"Goku," Bulma sighed, finally allowing herself to relax. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I was just going through the discharge process with Chi-Chi and the doc here."
"Where is your phone?" Bulma demanded, her anxiety for him and his family now shifting entirely back to Vegeta as her stomach churned with nausea. "Vegeta apparently got a call from him, on your phone, and now he's gone after him alone!"
Goku was silent for a few long seconds as her words sunk in. "I think I lost it, or someone stole it, because I looked everywhere and can't find it," he finally said, his voice serious. "I didn't think much of it, but actually, I had a visitor earlier and…the phone's been missing since…"
Oh my god, it was ALL a fucking set up, Bulma realized as her heart sank. "Who was the visitor, Goku? Who?!"
Nappa moved quietly behind Vegeta in the warehouse as they worked past dusty aisles of old boxes, hardware, and machinery. Vegeta was methodical and tactical , checking each aisle as they slowly walked past, his movements silent and untraceable if it wasn't for the footsteps he was leaving in the dust marring the floor. The entire time, Nappa's eyes were on Vegeta's bandaged left shoulder under the white tank top he was wearing.
"I don't think Kakarot is here," Nappa finally whispered as Vegeta checked another aisle. "You should go now while you can, Vegeta," he urged.
"Not without him," Vegeta growled, determined. "I never leave one of my men behind."
"Well, isn't that honorable of you, Vegeta," Zarbon's voice said from up ahead, in the darkness.
Vegeta instantly ducked into one of the aisles, leaning against some thick and heavy metallic shelves. There were so many boxes of all kinds of different tools, that the shelves may as well have been a wall for how much visibility he had. Nappa quickly got into the aisle with him, and from far away, Vegeta heard Zarbon laughing.
"Vegeta, you've had an impressive run, but it ends now. Frieza wants you alive, so just come on out and turn yourself in, and you needn't suffer just yet."
Vegeta leaned up close to the end of the aisle, raising his rifle straight up as he tried listening for others who may have been with Zarbon.
"Where the hell is Kakarot?" Vegeta demanded, shifting slightly so he was giving Nappa his back.
Zarbon laughed. "Stupid boy, he was never even here."
Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could make any sense of that, he felt a needle jam hard into his neck. He instantly reached up and yanked a syringe out, but Nappa gave him no time to recover as he seized Vegeta's injured left shoulder between his arms, hauling him backwards into a brutal arm lock. The pain and betrayal both made Vegeta cry out as he dropped his rifle, but he instantly recovered, spinning into Nappa and using the larger man's backwards momentum to take Nappa's legs out from under him.
A wave of dizziness made Vegeta sluggish and unable to capitalize after landing on top of Nappa, like he normally would have. He was too slow, and Nappa punched him hard in the face, forcing Vegeta off him and sending him tumbling back to the floor.
"Sorry, Vegeta, but you should have left when I told you," Nappa sighed as Vegeta slowly rolled over in the dust, shaking his head and trying to fight off whatever drug they had given him to slow him down.
"Worthless son of a bitch," Vegeta whispered furiously as he forced himself to his hands and knees. He looked up, and Nappa shrank back a little by the pure hatred in his eyes. "I will fucking kill you," he venomously swore.
"Frieza…he threatened my family. I had no choice, Vegeta," he borderline pleaded, regret temporarily flashing across his face.
"In the end, we all have a choice, Nappa," Zarbon chuckled as he finally walked over. "And it's time you answered for yours, Vegeta."
Vegeta stubbornly forced himself back up to his feet, all while favoring his left arm. He staggered a little before raising both fists, blood running from his opened stitches on his face as he backed up until he was against the shelves – Nappa on his left, Zarbon on his right. They were both armed, and he wasn't. Not only that, but he was getting dizzier by the second. Speed was of the essence, and he had to capitalize before the drug left him too weakened to defend himself.
Of the two, he desperately charged Zarbon first. Zarbon's eyes widened in surprise over the ferocity of Vegeta's attack as he raised his hands to block and defend himself. When Vegeta managed to kick him hard enough in the ribs to break a couple of them, Zarbon staggered backwards and shouted for help, his words cut off by a hard right hand from Vegeta straight to the face which broke his nose.
Nappa immediately stepped in, bringing Vegeta's own rifle down around his neck and hauling him backwards away from Zarbon. He then flung Vegeta, sending him airborne through an open air loading dock and tumbling down a ramp until he finally rolled onto the concrete outside.
Panting and horribly dizzy from Nappa's move, Vegeta stubbornly kept moving as he rolled over so he was facedown, bracing himself with his hands against the cold concrete still wet from the rain as he tried to find the strength to push himself back up. All he wanted to do was collapse and welcome the darkness that was threatening the edges of his vision courtesy of the drug Nappa had injected him with, but he absolutely refused. He had to fight; he had to, for his mother, for Tarble…
For Bulma.
"Stay down, Vegeta," Nappa implored, his voice sounding far away.
Taking a few shallow breaths, his muscles strained and all flexed as Vegeta slowly pushed himself up one more time to his hands and knees. As soon as he did, he felt Zarbon attacking him, kicking him hard in the head and in the ribs until Vegeta was hacking up blood on the concrete, blood trickling into his eyes. There was no end to the beating, and finally, all he could do was try to shield himself from the blows to no avail until they mercifully ended. He was left gasping and shaking on the ground. After a few seconds, he slowly started to turn over again.
"Vegeta, stay down!" Nappa yelled.
Stubbornly, Vegeta tried doing the opposite, his body trembling and soaked in sweat as he once again pushed himself up to his hands and knees. His body was begging for relief from the pain, begging him for mercy. However, his mind could only think of Bulma, which fueled him to keep going.
Vegeta weakly looked up, only for Zarbon to pistol whip him hard across the face. He collapsed again, groaning as he rolled onto his back, blood running across his face.
"That's enough, Zarbon."
Vegeta swallowed hard at the sound of Frieza's voice, though he was too dizzy to tell where the voice was coming from. He closed his eyes, unable to bear their weight anymore as he weakly drew up one knee, trying hard not to pass out.
"Vegeta, Vegeta, Vegeta. So stubborn, so strong-willed, ever since you were a boy. And what a specimen you have turned into now - the Marines made you tougher than ever," he heard Frieza laugh from above him. Vegeta grunted, half-conscious, until Frieza kicked him hard in his now broken ribs, making him cough and choke. The top half of his white tank top was now almost entirely smeared with his own blood. Shaking, Vegeta unconsciously tried to roll to his side to protect his ribs, but Frieza forced him on his back, one expensive white leather boot planted firmly on his throat. Vegeta sputtered, cracking his eyes open enough to see the blurred image of the man triumphantly standing over him.
"You caused much damage to my enterprise, Vegeta. You cost me good soldiers, which will take time and money to replace. And for what? Because of your brother? If your goal was to join him, then dear Prince…" Frieza then took out one smooth silver handgun from his white jacket, a sinister smile creeping on his pale face. "All you had to do was ask."
"I'm sorry," Vegeta whispered; not to the man above him, and not even to his mother or brother. But to Goku, the only brother he had left…and to Bulma, for not being brave enough to tell her how he really felt about her when he had the chance.
Frieza then lowered his gun over Vegeta's face, and pulled the trigger.