Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Drive Free

A sleek black sports car got off at Exit 60 towards a small roadside no tell motel that was located in the quieter parts of New Palm City. The lot was spacious and sparsely populated, with only three or four other cars parked in their designated spaces. Rapier drove while Jasper sat in the front passenger seat and Chanel sat in the back, all three of them wore black mirrored shades and matching leather gloves. It was the break of dawn, with the sun barely rising over the horizon, leaving the sky a blend of blues and oranges, like a summer flame. Jasper lit his cigarette with his zippo and pocketed it, looking out the tinted windows at the vista before him. A lone palm tree stood beside the motel, giving it that distinct NPC feel, but the motel looked unkempt and rundown, as if it had not been renovated for decades. Rapier pulled into the parking lot, slowly and quietly and cut off the engine. He let out a shallow breath as he reached for the glove compartment and took out his pistol, holstering it within his black sports jacket.

"Winnie is in there," Rapier said, adjusting his shades, "Shouldn't take more than five minutes to get the stuff."

"Iight," Jasper said, giving him the 'ok.' Rapier nodded and got out the car, popped open the trunk and got out an attaché case. He moved the toolbox and first aid kit aside, hiding it underneath the tarp and closed the trunk, making his way to the motel. Jasper looked at his watch once Rapier entered the motel.

"How you and him doin'?" Jasper asked Chanel, partially teasing.

"We still just friends my guy," she answered, "I was thinkin' 'bout what you said tho."

"Hmm?"

"Ay there's a lot of interracial couples these days and inter-species is becomin' more common. A lot of mixed species couples here in New Palm City. I ain't all about it really…some shit…we be too different to reconcile. Niggas gon' do what they always do, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jasper said, taking a drag.

"Ain't like he even like me…" Chanel whispered.

"Well that a fuckin' lie," Jasper said, laughing, "The way he follow yo ass around like a lil' puppy? If he don't like you then he gay, word on my moms."

"Ay he could be," Chanel said.

Jasper saw a black car pull into the motel parking lot, just a few spots down from them. He took a drag and continued talking.

"Ion think so, I think he like you," he said, checking his watch. He saw Rapier come out of the motel, but something was clearly wrong. He was stumbling out as if he'd been hurt. Jasper peered for a moment and Chanel screamed when she saw Rapier collapsed onto the asphalt, bleeding from his side. Leaving the motel shortly after was Winnie, rushing towards the black car that had just parked. She was carrying the attaché case and a duffle bag, throwing it into the back seat and hopping in. The car hurriedly pulled out. Jasper zipped over to Rapier, helping him up, seeing that he'd been shot in the abdomen. He zipped back to the car and helped him into the backseat. Chanel popped the trunk open, got out and grabbed the first aid kit and got back in, while Jasper jumped behind the wheel. With no time wasting, he cut on the engine and hit the gas, swerving loudly out of the lot and onto the freeway, going after the black car.

"What the fuck happened!" Chanel shouted, trembling as she opened the kit, slipping off her leather gloves for plastic ones. Rapier spat up some blood and it drizzled down his mouth onto his sports jacket.

"S-set up…" he weakly wailed, "F-fucking…set up."

"Keep him awake," Jasper told her. Chanel listened, ripping his shirt open and pressing against the wound as she checked if there was a bullet inside of him. There was—and the shell had shattered: several pieces embedded in his cream color flesh, making the wound look worse than it was. She got out a scalpel, forceps and medical tweezers, delicately removing the pieces. Rapier snarled in pain, letting out a piteous moan. Jasper kept up after the black car, weaving through the sparse early morning traffic as he began speeding, doing seventy in a fifty MPH zone.

"Guess she hates yo ass," Chanel said to Jasper, "Damn nigga, how many bitches you did dirty?"

Jasper shot her a look through the rearview mirror and then continued on, pressing down hard on the gas, following the car closely. It began swerving in an attempt to shake him off, but he continued driving expertly, doing his best to keep up and not lose sight of them. Chanel managed to remove all the pieces and started disinfecting the gunshot, earning earsplitting howls from Rapier. Jasper spun the steering wheel when he saw a steep curve was coming up, drifting smoothly to the bend of the road. Chanel dabbed the wound clean and sprayed the full restore on him, almost emptying the bottle. The pain would linger, but right before her eyes she saw the gunshot starting to rapidly regenerate. She placed a bandage over the shrinking wound, just in the case it would randomly degenerate and start bleeding again. Rapier was half conscious now, leaning languidly in the backseat as Chanel jumped in front. She reached under her seat and began assembling the AR-15 and loaded it up. She briefly checked the sights and rolled down the window. She popped in ear plugs and gave a pair to Jasper. She then leaned out and began firing at the car. Other cars swerved out the way and crashed, but her aim was precise. She shot out the tires of the black getaway car and watched it lose control. It flipped over on the road but landed perfectly back on its tires and continued to speed. Chanel shot another tire out and watched as it spun, bashing into another car and sending it careening over the edge of a steep drop. Jasper now was going at the car's top speed, accelerating as much as he could. He slowed down when he began closing the gap, spinning the steering wheel once more as Chanel kept the assault rifle trained on the car. He slowed down and slammed the brakes, coming to a screeching halt. Winnie was climbing out the car, her face covered in blood. Her getaway driver was also getting out, stumbling as it was clear that he must have hurt something. He limped, trying in vain to escape but Chanel shot him multiple times. The bullets ran through him like butter, leaving gaping holes in his chest and torso. He collapsed, bleeding out and trembling, as if he was having a seizure. Jasper got out and zipped over to Winnie, grabbing her by the arm while Chanel went to collect the merchandise. She got the duffle bag and the attaché case and popped open the trunk, throwing it in the back as Jasper dragged Winnie to the car. After Chanel was done loading up the import, she kept the gun trained on Winnie while Jasper wrapped her wrists with wire. He opened the back seat and shoved her in there, next to Rapier who was gradually recovering and regaining full consciousness. Chanel hopped back in the front passenger seat and Jasper got back behind the wheel, driving off, leaving the busted car and dead body behind.

They returned to the motel and dragged Winnie through the back entrance. Chanel stood watch with Rapier, who was now feeling better and armed with his semi-automatic pistol. He attached a silencer accessory to it. Jasper manhandled Winnie, pushing her through the room door (as this motel only had six active rooms) and locked it behind him. He shut the blinds and took a deep breath, clenching his fists. Winnie was weeping softly now.

"The fuck is yo' problem bitch?" He snarled at her. She was shaking, trying to make herself look small.

"I-it's good to s-see you again Jasper," she whispered, trying to sound sexy despite the fact she was bawling. Jasper wasn't impressed or interested. He roughly backhanded her, leaving a red mark on her cheek. He grabbed a handful of her white hair and yanked her head back.

"My niggas say that you's a reliable contact and now you…you shootin' and runnin'? I oughta shock yo stupid ass—the fuck kinda game is you playin'?"

"N-no game," she cried out, "P-please."

Jasper slapped her again and dragged her to her feet, pinning her to the wall. He slipped out his phone, texting Rapier to get to the toolbox. He responded affirmatively and walked towards the car, looking left and right and over his shoulder, before popping open the trunk and grabbing the aforementioned toolbox. He closed it and strolled back over to the motel, walking up the chain link stairs and to Winnie's room. He knocked on the door and Jasper bolted towards it, opening the door and taking the toolbox. He relocked it and turned his attention to Winnie, who was struggling against her wire restraints. Jasper had the strength of an average fully grown human man, give or take a few points and so, he wasn't particularly strong, but still strong enough to maul someone if they'd been playing games. He set the toolbox on the cheap, springy child-sized mattress and opened it up, taking out pliers. Winnie stared in abject horror as he made his way towards her. He cut the wire restraints for her, much to her surprise, but he didn't let her go. He shoved her against the wall again, his arm to her throat as he pointed the pliers to her mouth.

"Ay bih, you gon' tell me the truth, or I'ma start yankin' out yo tongue."

She stood still, not saying anything.

"Yo ass almost got my boy killed," Jasper stressed, "So I'm givin' you to the count of three."

"You've changed," Winnie said, "You was never this ruthless when I knew you."

"Bitch… we ain't here for no small talk and catchin' up. One."

"Please don't…please—"

"Two."

"Jasper! PLEASE!"

"Three." He squeezed her cheeks with his gloved hand, forcing her mouth open as he took the pliers and clamped down on her tongue. She began panicking and through sobbing chokes, she relented.

"Alright, alright," she managed to garble out, "T-they got my son. Please."

Jasper let go of her tongue and stared her down, "Who got yo son?"

"Mikhailovichs…" she whimpered, looking back at him. Her eyes were big and brown, full of tears and fear.

"Which one?" Jasper said softly.

"The brothers…Sergei…Dimitri," she cried, "On my way here…they accosted me, they said I was to bring the money and the shipment to them. They have my son…he's only seven…please…Jasper, please."

Chanel was right…these niggas would be sniffin' around. They here a lot faster than I thought…

"If you lyin' to me, I'ma kill you," Jasper said flatly.

"I-I'm not lyin'…please…" Winnie sniveled. Jasper let her go and put the pliers in the toolbox, closing it. Winnie slumped down onto the ground, fully breaking down in tears, crying uncontrollably.

"Where these niggas at?" Jasper asked, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. Winnie slowly stood up, not bothering to fight back or flee. She knew Jasper would catch her even if she tried running. She wiped her eyes.

"Sergei is staying at Outrun Hotel," she said, "Dimitri…I…don't know for sure…but I know he's often in these strip clubs. H-he s-said he's gonna v-visit Babylon Nights…some local club in the Palm Area."

My fuckin' club, Jasper thought, wondering if Sergei knew this or not.

"Take out yo phone…show me a picture of them."

Winnie listened and got out her smartphone, scrolling through it carefully as Jasper watched her like a hawk, just in case she was texting for help. She brought up Dimitri's profile on Poke/Gram first. He was a pale, skinny, young man with a brown buzz cut. He wore a tracksuit and ostentatious jewelry, iced out in gold and diamonds. He looked a lot like Natasha to be honest, without the makeup or the fillers. Winnie then scrolled down, showing him the profile of Sergei, who, to Jasper's surprise, was a mon.

"Is…Sergei adopted?" Jasper inquired.

"I-I think so," Winnie said.

He looked at Sergei. He was also pale, with dark eyes that looked almost black, ink colored, gelled back hair with a violet chinstrap beard. He was tall and slender, like Dimitri, but well-built, instead of possessing Dimitri's, lankier frame. He was of the Drapion lineage, having the tail. The extra spring-like arms were hidden away and he must have gotten the signature mandibles of someone of that line removed, for aesthetic reasons.

"Call him, right now," Jasper said, "And I swear to Arceus, if you say some fuck shit, I will rip yo eyes through yo socket, bitch."

"I w-want my son back," Winnie cried, "Please…please…if I do this, please get my son back. He's with Sergei."

"Wha'ever bih. I'ma get yo son back. Call Dimitri."

Winnie did exactly that, making sure she sounded normal and not like she had been crying. In a minute or so, Dimitri picked up.

"What is it?" He said sharply. He hummed happily, getting a massage.

"I have the package…we're coming to you—can you remind me…where you are right now?"

"I am at the massage parlor, just off the freeway," Dimitri said, "The girls know what's up. Just come through the back, I'll be there."

"Yes Dimitri," Winnie said as sweetly as possible.

"I love your voice Winnie," he teased, "Come quickly, you'll get your son back."

"Yes Dimitri," she repeated, hanging up. Jasper's ears twitched and he grabbed her phone, holding onto it for safe keeping.

"You gon' come with me," he said, taking her by the arm and pulling her out of the motel room. He walked down the rickety metal stairs with her and towards the car, Chanel and Rapier now following. She tied up her hands with some extra wire and made her sit in the back with Rapier, while he got behind the wheel. Chanel sat in the front. The Rapidash man pointed his gun at her, giving her a look that read 'don't try anything stupid.' She sat quietly and still, tears still falling down her face.

"Ayo what's the plan?"

"Call the rest of the crew, tell 'em to wait for me by Outrun Hotel. We gon' to…" he looked up the massage parlor that would be at the first exit off the freeway on his phone, "Ladybird's Nails."

"We gon' run up on these niggas?"

"Yep," Jasper said, putting the address in the GPS and pulling off.

"You sure 'bout that?" Chanel asked, "They wildin' out here."

"He got armed security with him at all times?" Jasper asked Winnie, looking at the rearview mirror as he drove.

"Sergei does, Dimitri likes to be low key…" Winnie said, "Especially since he visits brothels and shit. He does have one guard that be keepin' a lookout, though."

"I got that nigga," Chanel said, "What that guard be lookin' like?"

"Shaved head, tattoo on the back of the neck," Winnie whimpered. Jasper drove quickly on the freeway, going over the speed limit and not caring what drivers he scared off the road. Winnie sat still, wiping her eyes.

"I used to be a teacher..." she said, "But…that doesn't do shit for me."

Jasper glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"I had to take care of my son," Winnie explained, trying to garner sympathy, "His father was killed and the killer…who might actually be the real father…is in jail."

"Ay," Chanel put her feet up on the dash, "Save yo sob story for someone who gives a fuck, bih."

Tears fell down her face and Jasper sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette, "Yo ass got into traffickin' drugs to provide fo yo son. I get you."

"Yes…I used to just be a teacher," Winnie said, wiping her eyes, "But that was a long time ago."

"Iight Winnie," Jasper said, "I know yo ass is all sorts of fucked up…but let's see how deep this shit goes."

With that, he pulled out of the freeway and onto Exit 60.

Ladybird Nails was a small nail salon was sandwiched between a money transferring spot and a hole in the wall casino. It was more or less a front for trafficked girls from Kanto to be sold for cheap to less than desirable patrons. The exterior was shabby, with the neon lights not fully working and the awning half torn down. The interior was that of a typical nail salon, with rooms in the back for massages with happy endings. The walls were a lemon yellow and the tiles were made of cheap polyester material and were the color of rotted eggshells. The light fixtures hung uneasily from the ceiling, flickering in and out, sometimes working, sometimes not. A lot of the patrons to this nail salon were men, not women as one would expect—but there were some young women in the front actually getting their nails done. Several young girls, mostly teens and girls in their mid to late twenties were often around here. Dimitri, was in the back room, sitting with five or six almost naked girls, all of them brunette, with their drapes matching the carpet. He was smoking with his shirt off and relaxing, scrolling through his phone as one of the girls took their turn to massage him. He took a quick drag and turned onto his back, gesturing for that same girl to go down on him. As this happened, the girls gasped as Jasper walked into the back room, pistol in hand. The girl who was about to give Dimitri head lurched back, startled.

"Huh—what!"

Jasper grabbed Dimitri and pulled him off the massage table and threw him to the ground, kneeling over him. He pointed his gun at his head.

"…The fuck is this?" Dimitri scowled.

"Moffucka ion got time for none of this," Jasper growled back at him, baring his tiny fangs. The girls in the room sat silently, none of them moving an inch.

"Who are—ah…it's you," Dimitri said, "The man who's been moving up in the world. You're quite old."

"I'm fifty one moffucka, what's yo excuse, lookin' like a forty-eight yo old man in a thirteen year old's body."

"I'm only twenty-nine," Dimitri argued, "But of course…"

Jasper glared at him, "You got me all the way fucked up. Yo gon' fuck with one of my contacts…iight, then…I'ma ask once." He clicked off the safety, "Where is you keepin' her son?"

Dimitri gave him a nasty look, "And why the fuck would I tell you that?"

"Cuz I got a gun pointed at yo head and I'ma blow yo brains right out if you don't say shit."

"Then kill me," Dimitri dared. Jasper stared at him and he stared back. He tried reading his face, but Dimitri/s expression was indecipherable. With that, Jasper holstered his gun and pulled Dimitri to his feet, throwing him against the vanity. Dimitri reached for one of the nail tools: a cuticle scalpel. He swung at Jasper, feinting first and then tried to gore him. Jasper avoided him easily and grabbed him before he could fall over from his slow attempt at stabbing him. He slammed him back, his ears flat against his head as he snarled at Dimitri.

"You mons are just animals in human bodies," he taunted.

"You damn right," Jasper said, his eyes growing gold. The lights in the nail salon began to flicker violently and surge into an impossible brightness, earning gasps and cries from the girls who instinctively took cover. Dimitri screamed—a cry so earsplittingly horrific that Jasper flinched. The electricity ran through his veins and his skin, frying the hair on his arms and caused blood vessels in his eyes and ears to burst. Jasper let go, but Dimitri couldn't, the electrocution causing him to grip him hard, leaving a mark on Jasper's arm. Eventually, he released him and started to shake, seizing up for a few seconds before going into brief cardiac arrest, crumpling to the ground. Jasper kicked him roughly in the ribs and he cried out, clutching his chest.

"Shit hurt, don't it?" Jasper ridiculed, "You stupid ass cracker, start fuckin' talkin' or I put a bullet in the back of yo skull."

"Ugh, ugh, ugh…" he could barely speak. Jasper withdrew his gun, clicking off the safety once more and pointed it at him.

"Nigga…tell me where is this bitch's son."

"H-he's b-being held at O-Outrun H-Hotel," he wheezed. Jasper nodded.

"Iight," he said, pulling the trigger anyways. The bullet tore through his brain stem and he fell dead onto the ground, a pool of blood rapidly forming underneath his blown out skull. The girls watched with dull surprise. He looked around at the girls and they looked at him, eyes wide but jaded.

"We won't say anything," one of them said, pulling a towel around her.

"Yeah…we…won't say nothing."

Jasper smiled at them, "Good looks." He walked out through the back and out of the salon, seeing that Chanel had killed Dimitri's guard. He was on the ground, his brain matter splattered against asphalt. He walked towards the black sports car, getting behind in the wheel. Chanel got in the front and Rapier was still in the back, his gun trained on Winnie. She was still crying, albeit softly now. Jasper called Haze as he began pulling out.

"Yo."

"Y'all on yo way to Outrun?"

"Yep," Haze said, "We almost there."

Jasper put in the address to Outrun Hotel in the GPS. It would take thirty minutes, if traffic was minimal, "We gon' be there soon. Wait somewhere inconspicuous."

"The fuck does inconspicuous mean," he heard Parker say in the background.

"Means wait somewhere where nigga's ain't checkin' for," Haze answered, "Iight Jasper, we gon' see you soon."

Jasper hung up and lit a new cigarette, going straight to Outrun Hotel.