Disclaimer: Why the hell put a disclaimer when you know from the prologue that I own nothing that doesn't belong to me by right!  o.O  This disclaimer stands for the rest of the story; I own nothing!! NOTHING!  Well, 'cept maybe the idea of the underground weaponry thing and such...*shrugs*

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Chapter 1: Gathering For the Race

            A week had come and gone far too quickly for the four bar rats.  They'd spent the past week doing nothing but intense martial arts training.  All of them were pure masters, who competed in the World Martial Arts Tournament, whenever they could.  However, much to Vegeta's displeasure, Goku was the strongest of them all.

            Gohan, the least suspicious looking of them, headed into the park earlier to scope it out.  He soon came back to report to his father. 

            "Yamcha's there.  Those two strange looking lackeys are there, too."

            "Anyone else?"  Vegeta inquired while taking a drag on a cigarette.

He didn't normally smoke, but under the circumstances he decided it would calm his nerves.  Sadly, the lit health hazard didn't calm him in the least. 

            "Yeah."

            "Who?"  Goku asked.

            "People who are just 'normal citizens'.  They're sitting on park benches, jogging...they're all over the park,"  Gohan reported.

            "Yeah, I went to get a hotdog...even the damned vendor had the Rat-Pack's tattoo on his arm,"  Krillin added.  "Although, it just shows Yamcha's stupidity.  It's 11 something at night.  You'd think that normal citizens, and a hotdog vendor would be at home, or...anywhere but the park.  Heck, I think some of the bums are working for the Rat-Pack."

Vegeta nodded and looked at his watch; 11:58 P.M.  "Alright, I'm going."

"Hey wait a minute, Vegeta," Krillin began.

"What, Chrome Dome?" 

"Why even go into the park?  Why didn't you just out of town?"

            He threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out.  Vegeta said with a smirk, "It's a matter of principle.  Besides, I never turn down a challenge."

*****

            "Ahhh, Vegeta; the man with my goods!  How good of you to show up here at exactly--" Yamcha snapped his fingers, and Tien shoved a watch in front of his eyes, "--11:59 and 58 seconds.

            Vegeta shrugged.  "I have good timing."

            "The goods," Piccolo said coldly. "And you had better hope that it's in a dino-cap."

            "Oh, it is.  I would never cheat the Rat-Pack."

            "Well, I guess you're smart after all,"  Yamcha said smugly.  "Let's have it then, Vegeta."

            Vegeta reached into one of the pockets of the tan slacks he was wearing.  Before Vegeta could make a move to pull his hand out, Tien had a gun pointed at him.

            "Slowly, Vegeta.  I swear I'll strip the dino-cap from your dead hands if I have to,"  Tien said.

Yamcha chuckled to himself.  For, unbeknownst to Vegeta, he was going to be dead whether or whether not he produced the goods.  He was a liability risk. 

Vegeta scowled at Tien, but slowly produced a dino-cap from his pocket.  He pressed the top and tossed it in the gap between himself and the Rat-Pack.  It, as all capsules do, expelled it contents for all to see.

            What appeared from the capsule was not money, or weapons, but a gas mask and billowing smoke.  Vegeta quickly snatched the gas mask and strapped it on.  He thanked Kami for the new versions. 

            With his mask in place, he kicked the guns away from Tien and Piccolo's hands while they coughed.  He leapt into the air and delivered a quick kick to Piccolo's head, which snapped violently to the side.  Before the lackeys could focus, he sent a knife edge kick to Tien.  He flew backwards and landed with a sickening thud.  Yamcha, who had been incredibly surprised, fled the smoked area. 

            Vegeta went after his disappearing back, vaguely noticing the three other warriors taking out Yamcha's men behind him.  He soon caught up to him and a stand off initiated.   

            "This seems familiar, eh Vegeta?"  Yamcha called with a sick smirk on his face.  They circled.

            "Heh, yes it does," Vegeta spoke.

Soon after, he lunged at Yamcha.  A fierce flurry of kicks and punches flew between the two.  To the untrained eye, it was in unspeakably fast.  Vegeta, however, was holding back.  He knew he could kill Yamcha fairly easily for his skill was far greater.  However, he didn't know what was holding him back, but he figured he just wanted to add a second scar to his ugly mug. 

            Vegeta stood in his perfect fighting stance.  He was ready for any sort of attack; from Yamcha, that is.

            A grotesque crack was heard from the sound of a rifle butt connecting with flesh and bone.  Another one of Yamcha's minions had just struck Vegeta from behind!  Yamcha could be heard chuckling in the background.

            Hundreds of colors danced before Vegeta's muddy vision, and the acute pain of the blow seeped into his mind.  He was becoming more lightheaded and disoriented by the second.  It was quite surprising that he hadn't passed out cold by then.  He knew he was close to reaching the black abyss that was unconsciousness, though.

            "Well, well, Vegeta...it would seem that you won't get to add a second scar to my flesh today," he said cruelly. "Or any day for that matter.  Good riddance to bad rubbish as they say!"

            However, Yamcha's last few words were lost to Vegeta, for he had reached the point where his vision was gone and his mind was swimming in the throbbing pain.  'And that's too damn bad...' was all he could manage to think before he passed out.

*****

            Vegeta slowly opened his eyes to see nothing at all.  Quickly, he blinked his eyes, and his previously failed vision slowly returned.  A few colors still danced before him.           

            "Hey Vegeta!  Glad your awake, Buddy!"  Goku called happily.

            "What the hell?"  he murmured as he sat up.

Sadly for Vegeta, sitting up was not the thing to do after suffering from such a blow as he had.  In turn, his head fell back on the pillow as a slur of curse words came from his mouth.

            "Vegeta must be awake," Krillin said to Gohan as they walked into the room.  "Yep, I was right."

            "Walk in front of a bus, Shrimp,"  Vegeta told him.

            Krillin frowned.  "Can't you ever call me by my name?"

            "No."  Krillin sighed, but let it go.

            "So Vegeta, how're you feeling?"  Gohan asked as he secured some gauze to a wound on his arm.

            "Like I was hit with the butt of a rifle."

            "Coincidently, you were!"  Goku said cheerily, grinning like the idiot he was.

Vegeta just scowled.  "Where the hell are we?  And how come I'm not dead?" 

            "We're in the basement of my house.  You're not dead because we took care of as many of Yamcha's men as we could and hauled ass with you on Goku's back.   Yamcha got away and so did those two strange minions of his.  Like fifty of his men are looking for us, or something,"  Krillin informed him.

            "Well that's just fucking wonderful...What happened to you, Kid?"

            "Oh, I got hit in the arm by one of the damn Rat-Pack members,"  Gohan replied.  "Hey, Vegeta?"

            "Wha?"

            "What did Yamcha mean when he said something about a second scar?"  Goku jumped in.

            Vegeta shrugged off their question.  "He's just a nut case."

            "Uh-huh."  The antagonizing looks that he was receiving broke down his resolve.

            "Fine.  One time, Yamcha had this girl and pretty soon I came around.  I had no interest in her, but she was lusting after me.  Yamcha got pissed when she dumped him and came after me.  I got him with my blade on his face, and he got me across the chest and arm." 

            "How come you never told me this before?"  Goku asked, sounding a little offended.

            "'Cause it was none of your damn business,"  he sneered.

            "Huh...Hey Vegeta, how come Yamcha didn't just kill you instead of hiring you?"  Gohan inquired.

            Reluctantly, Vegeta continued in his tale.  "Back then, the Rat-Pack was being run by someone else.  We were both high on the chain.  Yamcha took over soon after and couldn't kill me because I was too damn good at my job."            "So, who was the girl?"  Krillin asked with a devilish smirk.

Gohan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

            "I dunno.  Some accident happened when Yamcha and I got into our brawl.  I don't remember anything about the girl.  As far as I know, Yamcha doesn't either.  I heard that the woman lost a year's worth of memory.  She completely disappeared about a day after the accident happened,"  Vegeta concluded.

            "Gosh, sorry Vegeta,"  Goku said sympathetically.

            "Who cares?  It wasn't that important to me.  I've just got to worry about how the hell I'm going to live through this with a fucking concussion!"  he touched his head gingerly. 

            "Hmmm...Do you think that your setup drop-off was set up by Yamcha?  To get rid of you by making it seem like a deal gone bad?"  Gohan questioned.

            Vegeta looked shocked.  "That damn well may be it!  The bastard's been trying to get rid of me for a while...I should've seen it coming!"

            "Ahh, don't be so hard on yourself, Vegeta!"  Krillin attempted to sooth, but Vegeta just gave him a death look.

            "We should probably get the money and weapons and skip town,"  Goku said seriously.

            "That's the smartest thing you've said all day, Kakarot," Vegeta retorted.

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A/N:  I hope you've all caught on to the humor (or just stupid pun) of Yamcha being the leader of the Rat-Pack and Vegeta once working for him.  Anyway, Yamcha may seem OOC, but however vulgar sounding the name of the weaponry; it's a very organized and sophisticated organization.  Yamcha has to have a rich, well-educated demeanor.   Oh well...Ja ne!