Title: Silence in Miami
Series: Bloody Roar III
Written by: Irvine Kinneas the Coyote
Plot: Trowa Crawford goes back to his Silencer Ways, this time his goal isn't the defend the Order, it's to defend his reporter husband from the dangers of the world. But when Brad's life is threatened by the corruption in Miami, the Silencer returns and silence falls on Miami.



Brad Crawford was in a news helicopter when they flew over the harbor. He was doing a report on the fish trade in Miami. Such a boring task. The news helicopter landed on the pad and Brad and his cameraman walked out. The dock supervisor told them not to enter Dock 88, that was the mayor's personal dock. Brad and Sam Yearlington walked to the fishing dock when Sam stopped Brad.

"Hey, Mr. Crawford! Check it out!" The hippy cameraman said.

"Those are slaves..." Brad said. "Quick! Get a reel!"

Sam got a good shot of the dock number... Dock 88. He filmed the slaves being whipped into submission and brought into vans labeled SWAT. Brad's eyes widened in abject horror. Then that's when the gunshots were heard and the camera went dead as Sam fell to the ground. Brad gasped.

"SAM!!!!"

"FREEZE!!!" A SWAT officer yelled.

Brad darted for the news helicopter, taking the camera with him. This was evidence! He jumped onto the copter.

"TAKE HER UP NOW, RANDALL!!!!"

"Where's Sam?"

"DEAD!!! MOVE!!!"

The helicopter flew up. Brad turned the news camera back on and he began to film everything going on. The mayor of Miami growled at the news footage.

"Someone kill Brad Crawford... Hire the best assassin money can't buy."

"Dialing Trowa Barton."



Trowa walked from the shadows and into the mayor's office. He was in full black trench coat, shades, katana holster, black stealth boots, and a black mask. He walked into the office and the door closed.

"You called?" Trowa said in a sullen, quiet voice.

The mayor shot the news footage at Dock 88. Trowa's eyes narrowed in a very dangerous way under his shades.

"That was Brad Crawford's stupid move on his behalf. He was supposed to be taping the fish industry's prized catch and that happened."

"So, he likes to walk on the dangerous side. That's what he does, he's a reporter."

"He taped my men beating on the slaves for the slave trade in Miami."

"My, I didn't know you got your jollies picking on innocent people. You should pick your expendables more thoroughly."

"I don't. The illegal slave trade is in jeopardy if Brad goes to the Governor of Florida with this. I want you to silence him forever."

The dangerous glint in Trowa's eyes intensified to rival the Flames of Hell. His face grew very grim and very evil. "Careful, Mr. Mayor. You should pick your allies a lot more carefully..." Trowa said in a very forbodding voice.

"I will pay you over 90,000 dollars to silence him. All expenses paid to keep your silence."

"My silence is golden." Trowa said, hiding his rage rather well. //But Brad is worth Titanium to me...//

Trowa walked out and left. He headed for the nearest hotel, the fanciest money can't offer. He had the mayor's okay, he was going to rape that privilege until it screamed. He dialed his cell phone.

"Brad-darling." Trowa said, entering the hotel. "Meet me at the Golden Swan Hotel..."

"That's a five-star hotel. How'd you get the money to stay there?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

"Mr. Barton?" The clerk said. "The mayor called. Welcome to the Hotel Golden Swan."

Trowa pulled out a thousand with his gloved hand. "I have a visitor coming. If you want to see more money than this, then keep your silence about him."

The clerk tried to snatch it but Trowa engulfed the thousand back into his hand. "You tell the mayor of my 'guest' then you will be the one silenced, got it?"

"Y-y-yes, Mr. Barton."

Brad Crawford snuck in, dressed in a black trench coat and carrying a laptop case. He walked up to the front desk.

"Trowa Barton."

"Room 998, ninth floor..."

Brad got onto the elevator and went up. He walked to Room 998 and walked in. Trowa was sitting on the very luxurious bed, completely nude and holding a bottle of champaign. Brad closed and locked the door and ran up to Trowa, hugging and kissing him.

"Mmmm.. I'll leave you to the silent espionage." Brad giggled.

"Brad-darling, we got to talk." Trowa whispered, leading Brad to the bed. "The mayor saw your news footage at Dock 88... he sent the best assassin to come after you."

"So? I got yo..."

"He sent me." Trowa said, sadness present in his usually stone cold voice.

Brad's eyes widened. Trowa hugged him tightly. "I'm not going to kill you. I love you so much..."

Brad hugged Trowa very tightly, kissing him left and right. "Trowa-love..." Brad said, kissing Trowa like no tomorrow while escorting him to the bed.

They have the most passionate sex...


The clerk picked up the phone and dialed the mayor's office. He was nervous and sweating, constantly looking at Brad sitting in the bar, drinking.

He began to explain to the mayor's men that Trowa and his so-called victim are doing things together when the red vorpal blade of the Ragnarok Crusher exploded out of his chest. Trowa pulled the blade out and then gently hung up the phone. He walked back to the bar and had a drink with Brad.


Trowa and Brad walked down the steps of movie magic expert, Gyrich Nostram. Gyrich is an old friend of Trowa's, since the careless days of the Order. Gyrich opened the door and saw Trowa and Brad standing there.

"Yo, Trowa..."

Trowa held out another thousand dollar bill.

"Yeowch! Hot mama! Come on in!"

Trowa and Brad walked in and looked around.

"The stuff's all set, just have a seat there, Craw-daddy."

"For starters... don't call me that." Brad said, sitting down.

"Point made." Gyrich said, looking at Trowa.

"I want you to fill the head with C-6 Explosives..."

"Wanna go out with a bang, Trowa?"

"A little gift for the mayor."

"Hallelujah!" Gyrich said, staring to work on making a fake head.

Brad sat still, watching Gyrich make a mold casting of his head, then start to work making an exact duplicate, making it look like he had a look of fright on his face when Trowa offed him. Trowa began to wire the C-6 explosives to the detonation switch. It took exactly 7 hours but the head was so lifelike that even Trowa was impressed.

"Good, stuff it with this."

Gyrich put the C-6 in and began to close it off with movie tissue to make it look like torn flesh. Brad smiled and folded his arms.

"Dramatics. Fancy, Trowa."

"Not really." Trowa said. "I called the Governor of Miami. She gave me the clear to clean house but I have my own reasons for his death."

Brad nodded, smiling.

Trowa grabbed the fake head and put it in a duffelbag. He grabbed an old pair of Brad's glasses and broke both the lenses and smeared movie blood all over it. He set 7000 dollars on the table and the Crawfords left.


Trowa walked to Dock 88 at the cover of darkness. He was carrying the fake bomb-stuffed head. Then the lights came on, Trowa was surrounded by half the police force. The mayor walked up, smiling. Seeing the head and thinking it was real, the mayor was quite pleased.

"Thank you for the trophy, Mr. Barton." The mayor sent a SWAT officer to retrieve the head.

The mayor looked at it and smiled even more. "Fascinating."

"What about my 90,000 dollars?" Trowa asked.

"Oh, that." The mayor said. "It's being wired to you right now. But you won't live long enough to enjoy it."

Trowa's eyes narrowed, then he licked his lips.

"Have a good day, Mr. Barton." The mayor looked at his chief. "Kill him."

"Oh, Mr. Mayor... I got something to say to you." Trowa said, secretly pulling out the detonation switch.

"Yes?"

"You need to get your files updated. The name's Trowa Crawford now. It has been for a year now. No one messes with my husband... and LIVES...." Trowa held up the detonation switch and showed it to the mayor.

The mayor's eyes widened, then he looked at the head. "YOU FUCKING SON OF A..."

"You should have listened to me when I said you should have picked your allies more often..." Trowa said, pressing the switch.

On a recording, Brad's voice popped up from the fake head. "YOU ARE THE WEAKEST LINK.... GOOD FUCKING BYE!!!" The head exploded.

Before the officers knew what hit them, they were all taken down with ease.

Trowa walked from the dock and vanished into the night.


In Tokyo, Brad and Trowa were kissing in the pale moonlight, thankful that this is all over and 90,000 dollars richer. Brad and Trowa parted in a romantic way and smiled at each other.

"I guess I got to go to work." Trowa said, looking at his garrotte-wire-hiding wrist watch.

"Don't get killed, k?" Brad said, kissing him.

"I can say the same for you." Trowa smiled, putting his shades back on, then kissing Brad.

Trowa walked into the shadows and vanished. Brad put his hat on and picked up his suitcase, then walked into the crowd.