Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, Bandai/Sunrise does. If they are going to sue, they should remember that they are dealing with a person who was seriously considering giving tube socks as Christmas presents (or that processed meat/cheese log thing that only turns up in Malls only during the holidays). You've all been warned.
Author's note: Remember, this is an Alternative Universe…things have changed…
OTHER CHOICES (Part 6)
The alley by the Blue Quetzal Casino was now littered with only ordinary trash. The last of the Blue Snake enforcers had been bundled into the police cruiser, and Spike watched nervously as the police officer placed the cash card into the reader for the transfer. There was a flash, and a beep as the card slid out. The officer handed him the card with a small flourish. "Thank you Mr. Black. Tijuana can sleep a little safer knowing that these guys are behind bars." The plan was an extremely simple one: let the TJ police do their jobs by collecting the bounty on the Blue Snake small fries. The card's true owner, one Jet Black, on the other hand, was hidden behind the dumpster.
"Thank you, officer," Spike smirked, as he made a show of checking the new balance; he knew that the Blue Snakes would be out of jail within the next two hours. He placed the card back into the bounty hunter's wallet. The officer was getting back into his car when he stopped.
"Is there someplace we can drop you off, Mr. Black?" Spike shook his head in order to hide his irritation. Some people just never knew when to leave. Of course, if they were in the Blue Snakes employ, they would probably want to keep tabs on him.
"Nah, I think I'll go into the casino and give them a few of my hard earned woolongs. Besides, I hear that the band is really good," he winked at the officer. "But thanks for the offer." The officer nodded knowingly, and with that got into the car and drove off. Spike sighed with relief, running his hand through his hair. He went to the dumpster and retrieved the bounty hunter, who seemed to be waking up. Spike propped him against the wall and left his wallet beside him. He sat on the opposite side of the alley, lit a cigarette, and studied the man, while waiting, with the man's gun in hand, for him to revive.
"Oooh, what hit me?" the bounty hunter groaned, running his robotic hand over his bald head. Spike had wondered about that arm; medical science could have easily replaced it.
"If I had to guess, I'd say a size 14 ½ boot," Spike answered getting the man's instant attention.
"Why are you still here? And where are the Blue Snakes?" Spike took note of the fact that the man was awake enough to not only notice the empty alley, but also that he didn't have his gun. He inwardly applauded.
"The Blue Snakes are on their way to jail for a few hours; you are now 300 thousand woolongs richer; and I have some questions for you. By the way, I should ask you for 80% of those woolong's, since I did most of the work."
"Keep dreaming, kid," the bounty hunter growled. "What do you think to gain from this?"
"Some answers. Like, who put a bounty on me, and what I've supposedly done to deserve it?"
"Try the murder of four syndicate members: Zumiko Ogawa, Dylan Lynas, Ryokan Jensen, and Muhammad Spinoza. From what I gathered, it was some internal syndicate politics. Not that they will be deeply missed." Spike felt a rage so deep that he maintained his outer calm by force of will alone
"You don't approve of the syndicates? That's kind of unusual for a former ISSP officer, considering that you are all on the take," Spike said, as he blew smoke in the bounty hunter's direction, trying to goad the man. He watched as the barb hit its mark; the metal fingers twitched ever so slightly.
"I was never on the take… wait a minute, how did you know…" the man started.
"That you were ISSP? I had to look in your wallet in order to receive the bounty. Not on the take, huh? That explains 'former,' then." The man frowned as he finally noticed that his wallet was on the ground next to him. He picked it up and went through the contents, noting that nothing was missing, and checked the cash card with some surprise. The entire 300 thousand woolongs was indeed there. He harrumphed.
"You seem a pretty decent sort for a Mafioso. So tell me, why'd you murder members of your own Clan?"
"You don't know anything about it. They were members of my cohort and my friends. There is no way I would have murdered them."
"There are a couple of things that I do know. One, I know that I have yet to meet the bounty-head who doesn't claim that he's innocent. Two, I know that it seems that you are here on TJ hiding. Although you aren't doing it very well, considering how you've pissed off the Blue Snakes." Spike grimaced at that.
"That in and of itself should prove that I wasn't exactly in hiding. Well, that and the fact that I'm sitting here talking to you at all. By all rights, I should've just left your ass in the dumpster."
"Yes, you should have. So, kid, if you are so innocent, why is there a bounty on your head?" Spike thought for a moment.
"Not that I owe you any explanations, but it's like you said: politics. My mentor, Mao Yenrai, wants to take the Red Dragon legit. There are those in the Clan who would do anything to stop that, and my cohort and I became pawns. Simple." And all of a sudden, it was simple to Spike. Whoever it was that had placed this bounty on him wanted to use him against Mao, and Spike would be damned if he was going to let that happen. He had to find this person or persons and stop them.
"Want to know something strange? I actually believe you," the older man laughed. "Not that my belief will help you in the long run. There are at least 300,000 bounty hunters in the system, and 8 million woolongs is a mighty tempting haul. So what do you plan to do now?"
"That's none of your concern," Spike said shortly, "I just need to know who placed the bounty."
"I take it you're going to do something stupid, huh? I really couldn't tell you who placed that bounty, but I could find you that information. Tell me why I should though. After all, you're a criminal." Spike narrowed his eyes.
"Never mind, I'll find it myself," Spike said, unloading and pocketing the clip of the Walther P99, while placing the gun on the ground. He stood, and dropped the half smoked cigarette, crushing the embers with his toe. "You should probably leave soon. For some odd reason, the Blue Snakes and the TJ police have the mistaken impression that I'm you. And we both know how notoriously corruptible small fry police are." Spike smiled down at him. Jet Black smirked back at him.
"Some advice kid, before you go: if you ever do decide to go into 'hiding,' you should at least try to disguise your hair." Spike chuckled at that, people had been trying to change his hair forever.
"You're just jealous," he said over his shoulder. "See you around, Jet Black." Spike walked, hands in pockets, down the alley. He stopped in the shadows and flattened himself against the wall upon hearing voices in the street proper.
"How the hell did that scrawny little twerp get the jump on all of them?" Scrawny?! Spike thought angrily, as he motioned down the alley for the bounty hunter. He placed his finger on his lips as Jet Black got up and started to ask something. "The boss is really starting get pissed off at this guy. He said that instead of just the regular ass kicking we should make an example of him. You know, like what we did to that Venusian guy." The other voice chuckled. Jet Black reached the mouth of the alley and crouched in the shadows.
"According to the cops, he's just some random cowboy, and his hunk of junk ship is parked near the gate. Our best bet to get our money back would probably be to catch him there. Speaking of money, the cops want us to reimburse them for that bounty, too."
"Screw the cops, they should have picked the guy up in the first place…" the voices faded into the background noise of Tijuana City as the Blue Snakes moved away form the alley.
"Well, that just can't be good," Jet Black drawled in a bemused tone. Spike grinned at the understatement. "And my ship is not a hunk of junk. I paid good money for that ship," he began to grouse.
"Whatever," Spike said to stop the man in mid-tirade. "I really don't care if your ship is the latest model Bentley zip craft or some long assed hoopty. We need to figure out a way to get out of this alive and unhurt."
"Well, this is all your fault. If I had the sense that God gave little green apples, I'd give you over to them. That would sure solve my problems." Spike had to laugh: that would solve the bounty hunter's problems.
"You wouldn't do that. Your sense of honor is too well developed, besides, you hate the syndicates, remember?" Jet Black harrumphed again. Spike was glad that he pegged him right. "If I can get us out of this, will you find out who placed that bounty on me?"
"So, I take it you have a plan to get us both out of this unscathed?"
"Don't you trust me?" Spike smirked. Jet Black didn't look amused.
"As far as I can pick you up and throw you, but I don't seem to have a choice about this, now do I?" Spike nodded at the assessment, the bounty hunter was sharp.
"Decency, ain't it a bitch?" The bounty hunter narrowed his eyes, and Spike decided not to push him too much further. "How's your acting?" Spike asked, thoughtfully. Jet Black raised an eyebrow at him.
A little while later, Spike, in full Dragon regalia, and Jet in a black suit carrying a black briefcase, swept past the startled guards and secretary and into the offices of one Joshua Van Pelt, leader of the Blue Snake Clan of Tijuana. "I hear you've been looking for me," Spike said coldly. Jet closed the door behind them and looked menacing. The office, in the local strip mall on main street, was tacky, with a western motif that tried much too hard: pink and orange pastels and cacti and an actual cow skull on the wall. Van Pelt reached his gun, but Jet already had his drawn. "I wouldn't try anything if I were you," Spike said quietly. "My man here never misses at this range." Jet frowned ominously.
"Who…" Van Pelt started, but Spike cut him off with a frosty look and a small gesture.
"Who I am is not important, who I represent is. The Red Dragon is planning to expand its operations in the outer planets, and TJ is one of the possibilities for a…strategic holding area that we are looking at."
Van Pelt looked nonplussed. "TJ has always belonged to the Blue Snakes, there is no room for the Red Dragon here. I should have you killed just for the affront you've caused me."
Spike smiled coolly down upon him as he took the seat in front of the bleached wood desk. "Did I give you permission to speak, Mr. Van Pelt? You would be perfectly within your rights to kill me, of course. But if I miss certain appointments with certain people, well, my Clan would not hesitate to wipe yours off this pitiful rock," Spike put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers together. "And think about it like this, one person, me, can come in here and break four of your casinos in less than a week, place six of your enforcers in jail, and sweep my way into your office just for the hell of it. What do you think the whole Clan would do if we are at war with you?" Van Pelt actually blanched. Spike smirked at him. "The way I see it, Mr. Van Pelt, you have three options. One, you can kill me, try to scare me or rough me up, or whatever, and the Red Dragon makes it so no one on TJ utters the words 'blue' and 'snake' within three sentences of each other." Spike watched as the Blue snake leader broke into a sweat. "Two, I go on my way, make a report to the elders, and the Red Dragon and Blue Snakes become allies. Of course you know that it could never be an alliance of equals. Or three," Spike smiled knowingly, "I make a report to the elders saying that we want no part of TJ." He paused, watching the Blue Snake leader absorb the words that offered some sort of hope for his clan. "Now, Mr. Van Pelt, which option works best for you?" he asked, leaning forward on the desk.
"What does option three cost me?" Van Pelt asked in a strangled voice. Spike rubbed his chin in thought.
"That depends on whether I'm dealing with a person of honor, Mr. Van Pelt. Am I?" The man could only nod weakly. "Good. In that case, there may come a time when I ask a favor of you. You will do it without question and without seeking an advantage over me. In return for this small promise, I will tell my elders that TJ is unsuitable for our purposes. And to show you that I myself am a man of honor," Spike motioned Jet forward with the brief case, "I'll return most of the money that I won from your casinos. The rest I'm keeping as a souvenir of my time on sunny Tijuana. By the way, you really should teach your dealers to cheat better."
***
"Wow! That's your ship? You really are a brave man. Boy, am I glad we didn't try to shoot our way out of it." Spike said as they flew, in Jet's unarmed tug, toward a beat up old fishing boat.
"Don't push your luck, kid. Don't forget, I'm already helping you against my better judgment. Besides, going into that office with you had to be the bravest or stupidest thing I've done in a while. Bluffing the Blue Snakes like that took some great big cojones. I especially liked the part where you gave him absolutely nothing that you didn't have in the first place. You are one very scary person, Spike Spiegel."
"Nah, it's the coat," Spike said as he shrugged out of it. "Small fries like the Blue Snakes tend to believe what they see. And you should see it when my friend Vicious does that, it truly is scary." Spike smiled to himself. "I believe some old Earth philosopher once said something to the effect of 'Things are entirely what they appear to be and behind them…there is nothing.'"
"Well, that was certainly true today. Hmmmm… that was Sartre…actually, that's kind of Zen."
"Of course it's Zen, I belong to the Chinese Mafia, remember? So, do you have any food on this tub? I'm starving."