Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Cowboy Bebop or anything whatsoever, so don't sue!

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post this up, I spent a lot of time editing it because I wasn't satisfied with what I had from the beginning. I apologize for any mistakes, especially typos...Anyways, as usual, thoughts are in italics. I want to express my gratitude to those who reviewed this fic. You're all so sweet! ^_^






Death Angel


Chapter 3: A Vicious Smile






"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," began the priest, formally clothed in a chasuble.

It was raining. It was always raining in this part of Mars. A cold wind chillingly whispered laments in the air. Birds were harboring under the extended tree branches as the rain poured peacefully over them. The sky was painted with a woeful gray over the cemetery, droplets of rain pattering on tombstones of the departed and the muddy bogs of the wet ground. Black umbrellas were held by mournful souls, huddled around a black casket, grieving over the death of a loved one. Silence occupied the ambience around as a feeling of dejection took over everyone's thoughts. That is, those with hearts.

Jorel Matsumoto's demise sent shock waves throughout the Red Dragon syndicate. Matsumoto was among the few honored assassins in the mafia, and his absence lowered the mafia's defense. He was well-known in the crime syndicate, for his upstanding achievements, making him one of the Van's favorites. Jorel was remembered as a clever tactician, and a dedicated Dragon. He dutifully fulfilled all of his assignments the Van set for him. All of them except for the last two, the two unfathomable ones that led him six feet underground.

Matsumoto's casket was draped over with an extended red cover bearing the Red Dragon emblem embroidered with a royal gold. There were bouquets of white roses around the coffin, each one with its own message in gold Chinese characters. The deceased Dragon had no family; the mafia were his only kin. All the eminent Red Dragons were clustered around the coffin, including all three of the Van, Sau Long, Ping Long, and Wang Long. Jorel's former comrades and partners were present as well, including Julia and Han Zhang. All were dressed in black attire, wearing the Red Dragon cloak, everyone except Julia, who wore her own black trench coat, cradling the white wrap that clung to her right arm.

As the casket that held the burdened soul of Jorel Matsumoto was being lowered beneath the rim of Mars, the mourners each tossed a white rose, expressing their respect for Matsumoto one last time. In these last moments, Julia reminisced the last words Jorel spoke to her. His irate face and striking words echoed through her mind.

"Because of you, this mission might be blown to pieces."

It was true, The mission was blown to pieces. The Red Dragon mafia loss a great amount of lives that night at the White Tiger Headquarters. The Tigers proved that they were prepared for any martial acts, and even threatened warfare if the Dragons strike again. The sole purpose of the raid that night, assassinate Jun Tao, was never reached. Now the stakes were risen, and the number of spies from rival syndicates increased more than ever. Security was heightened, and the ISSP paid more attention to their guard they couldn't let down.

Was the mission an inadequacy because of her?

No, she told herself. Jorel was responsible for his own actions. He was supposed to murder Jun Tao, not her. She was assigned to kill Wen Lee and any White Tiger she saw, not Tao.

But how did he get caught up in the enemy's hands? If Matsumoto was caught red-handed trying to assassinate Jun Tao, Tao's sentinels would've ruthlessly shot him to death right there on the scene. Maybe they hung him on a lamplight in Crater City Avenue to show that a tiger can slaughter a dragon.

These thoughts relentlessly whirled throughout her mind. Suddenly, Julia felt something sharp stab her fingertips. She looked down, and saw that the tip of the white rose was now stained with her blood. She released the bloodstained rose she held, and bowed her head in sorrow, praying for the soul of Jorel Matsumoto.


***


A band of White Tigers stood before a dark office, awaiting orders. Jun Tao was seated in a high desk, with bodyguards surrounding every corner.

"You may speak, Zhou."

The leader of the group that stood before him spoke.

"The guns are ready. Sir Ziyi has already made reservations at the dock. Shipments will be in fresh from Tharsis by three ante meridiem."

"And what about the Ars Antiqua?"

"It is in good hands, Master."

Little did they know that those hands would end up six feet under.


***


The reception was being held in a brightly lit ballroom in the Red Dragon Headquarters. Shimmering crystal chandeliers hovered above, radiating the room with incandescent rays of light that danced ardently in the wonderfully adorned ceiling. The marble floors flourished light shades of pink as endless tables presented varied choices of food that left guests' appetites in awe. Beautiful caryatids decorated pillars as shafts of light glinted upon them. In the very back was where a manned, polished gold statue of a Dragon hung. It was massive in size and incredibly exquisite. The Dragon represented the dignity and superiorness the Red Dragon mafia possessed.

Julia mostly remained demure and absentminded the reception. She was standing alone by the elegant water fountain that had a sculpture of a frog in its center, representing good luck. She was in the same black dress that sunk to her ankles that evening. Her wavy gold hair fell past her shoulders as her bangs slightly hid her blue gem eyes. A white cloth enveloped her damaged arm. The same thoughts that plagued her at the funeral encircled her mind once more.

For some reason, I have a feeling that Jorel wasn't murdered the way everybody thinks he was...

She remained in deep thought, when a servant disturbed her concentration.

"Would you like a beef dumpling, Miss Julia?" the servant politely asked. His name was Norman, and he has served the Red Dragons for nearly 33 years. He was getting old and frail, but not in a condition such as the Van's.

"I'm not hungry. Thank you Norman," Julia answered bluntly. The inattentiveness in her tone worried Norman.

"My deepest sympathy Miss Julia," he kindly told her. The tone of his voice was so warm; she felt culpable that she was being so cold and distant. This time, she tried to sound more lenient.

"Thank you Norman. I really am appreciative of your consideration."

Norman nodded in respect and left to offer some more dumplings to the Red Dragons.

Julia leisurely walked over to a table where Han was eating. She sat down next to him as she continued her thoughts, abstractedly gazing around the room, hopelessly looking for any answer to her bewildering questions. Her eyes didn't lead her to a solution, but to another pair of eyes. She found herself meeting the stare of quite a handsome man. His eyes were dark and so mysterious...yet riveting. The man had snow-white hair, in long spellbinding strands and he looked so mystifying...like a mystery she wanted to solve...

"How's your arm?" a voice said.

"Huh?" Julia was caught off guard. She was finally back to reality.

"I asked you about your arm. Is it okay? Are you okay?" It was Han. The nineteen year old was eyeing her arm, with a fretful look on his face.

"Oh, that, it's okay. I'm fine, don't worry," Julia said, surprised at her detachment.

"Look, I'm sorry I threw a fit at you the other day. It's just that I didn't want to see anymore Dragons die. I could barely stand Jorel's death," Han sincerely apologized.

"No big deal Han, I know how you feel. There's no need to be sorry." Han smiled cordially at Julia's reassurance.

Julia abruptly changed the subject.

"Han, can I ask you something?" Julia spoke low, aware of the other Dragons listening at the table.

"Sure, what is it?"

"How did Jorel die?"

Han was surprised. Why she was so intent on this subject, he didn't know.

"I thought you already knew. White Tigers killed him, possibly when he tried to shoot Jun Tao."

"Did you witness it?" Han was getting worried about Julia. She sounded a little hysterical.

"Julia, are you sure you're alright? What's up with all the questions?" Han spoke loud, loud enough for everyone at the dinner table to eavesdrop. Julia, aware of this, sighed.

"I'm okay, Han. I'm going to get something to drink."

She got up, trying to avoid Han's nervous face and the stares of the other Dragons seated at the table.

So I guess Han doesn't know the real deal behind Matsumoto's death either...interesting...

She walked up to the table where drinks were served. She picked up a wine glass and eyed the red wine bottle. As she grabbed the red bottle, she felt a warm hand against hers. Apparently, another person was after the same drink she had wanted herself. She looked up and she gasped. It was the handsome man with the mysterious cold eyes, the eyes that made her shiver...with captivation.

"May I?" the man asked. She could tell he was a Red Dragon, for he was wearing the honored cloak with the edges embroidered with the hue of gold.

His voice is deep and distant...Did he just say something to me?

"Pardon?" Julia absentmindedly asked, slightly blushing, embarrassed. But the mysterious smiled at her benevolently. They were still holding the bottle, one hand over the other.

How warm for a cold-looking person...

"I just wanted to ask you if I can pour some wine," the nice-looking man stated with a puckish smile. Julia smiled amiably in return.

"Sure," she replied coolly. She finally let go of the bottle. Julia thought he was going to serve himself, but he took hold of her glass and filled it up with red wine. His hand touched hers, and Julia felt a fiery sensation wash over her. Her white cheeks were tinted red.

His touch is so enticing...wait, I'm not falling for this guy...is he trying to hit on me?

Julia, thinking about this, brushed these thoughts away. She would not let any man think she was an easy target. She hesitantly readjusted her mood, her cheeks turning back to its normal shade of white.

"Thanks, but I could've done it myself," Julia said, looking directly at him, hoping he was getting the message.

"It was my pleasure, Miss Julia." He pronounced her name so peculiar, which baffled her senses. She looked at him charily.

What is this guy up to...

"How do you know my name? Are you some kind of stalker?" Julia asked, astounded at the adverse tone in her voice. The white haired man chuckled at her vigilant question.

"No, I'm not a stalker. I just asked Han what your name is," the pale man pronounced straightforwardly.

"How do you know him?" Julia became more precautious, aware that he was up to something mischievous, even though he was a Red Dragon.

"I used to work with him. Don't worry, I'm not planning to do something to you if that's what you're thinking."

Is he some kind of mind reader?

Julia, tired of this little game he was playing, was turning red with anger. How dare he thinks that she is an easy shot.

"What do you want?" Julia callously questioned. Her mind was already thinking of reaching for the gun that lay in the holster attached to her side.

"Nothing." He still wants to play this game...

"You lie."

"I would never lie to a beautiful woman." He smiled impishly, placing his empty glass down at the table. Julia was sick of this. Her intense blue eyes struck with an infuriating flame that reflected in his dark, chilling eyes.

"Well , now you're lying to one."

His eyes turned serious. Maybe he finally got the message...

"Now you're the one who's lying," he remarked with a sly grin on his face. He still hasn't gotten the message!

"Women are all liars." Julia's rose-colored lips formed a smile. She decided to give up. If he wasn't going to get the message, she might as well just leave.

"Goodbye, I must go now." She placed her wine filled glass and put it into his lukewarm hands. As she tried to turn around and make her departure, he immediately set down the glass and grasped her hand. Her eyes widened in wonder.

"It was nice meeting you, Miss Julia," he commented as he kissed her soft perfume-scented hand. Julia was speechless. Clueless on what to say, she turned around and walked briskly out the room, her face turning into a pink tone again. I didn't even get his name...oh well. It's not like I'm going to see him again anyway...

The man who kissed her hand stared at her as she made her way out the room. He managed a devious smile, knowing that that wasn't the last time he'd see her again.


***


Julia walked among the wet sidewalks in the rain, her wet blonde wavy hair sticking to her dark leather jacket she wore. It's always raining... Her faded jeans were soaked to her knees and under, and the maroon shirt she wore under was the only article of clothing that was dry. She removed the white cloth that secured her arm that day, for it became a nuisance to her. Black sunglasses were fixed about her eyes, to keep a low profile, knowing that she was probably being watched. She sighed depressingly, the feeling of loneliness enclosed her mind and soul. Though she hated to admit it, she was lonely and she despised that.

She walked into the bar called Ars Antiqua. It was ran by a medium-sized man named Don. The Ars Antiqua was fairly small in size, and it was a favorite Red Dragon hangout, though the public wasn't aware of this, for the Dragons were often in regular civilian garments. Everyday Red Dragons walked in and out that door, stopping by for a quick drink or a game of pool. But tonight, the Ars Antiqua was going to be a battlefield.

Julia, soaked by the rain, sat down on a stool all the way in the corner. The bar smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol. She didn't bother to look up and greet any Dragons she knew. She just wanted to be in solitude. She reached into her pocket and lit a cigarette, exhaling dejectedly. She motioned for the bartender, Don, for a drink.

"Hey Don, the usual." He fixed her a Bloody Mary. The dark bartender looked at her, worried. He sighed.

"What's wrong?" he worriedly asked.

"Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

"I wasn't born yesterday, Julia. Every time you come in here and light yourself a cig, something wrong has happened." Don was right. Julia smashed the cigarette butt on an ashtray.

"A friend died. I don't even know how, but I can't do anything about it. He's already gone," Julia glumly said taking a sip at her Bloody Mary.

"I'm sorry, Julia," Don sympathetically said. Julia smiled sadly.

"A Bloody Mary please," someone said. Julia looked to her right and saw a man with a heavy trench coat sitting next to her. He grinned at her a cheesy smile. I wonder what's this man's deal...

"Hi, what's your name?" the man with a tacky smile asked.

"What's yours?" Julia casually asked.

"I asked you first."

"And I asked you second," Julia unflappably replied. She could see the man grew annoyed.

"When are you going to answer my question?" the stranger asked impatiently.

"When you answer mine," Julia stated, relaxed. Don couldn't help but laugh a little. The man smiled that cheap grin of his, trying to act sociable.

"All right, my name is Zee." Julia raised an eyebrow.

"Zee?"

"Yeah, what's yours?"

"I don't have a real name, I'm a vagabond," she lied. She could tell "Zee" had lied about his name, so why can't she?

"Really? Interesting. Then maybe I should just call you pretty, because you're a very pretty girl." Oh, please, how lame can this guy get? She felt like rolling her eyes, but she didn't want to seem rude to this "Zee".

"That's very sweet of you," Julia said, emotionlessly. "Zee" could tell she was bored by the tone in her voice. Obviously his plan to make a move on her was going downfall. Stressed out at this, he got hold of something in his trench coat. Julia felt something point at her back.

"Don't move at all, Juliet," Zee coldheartedly ordered with that tacky smile. "Did you think we would never find out who murdered Wen Lee? Well the tables have turned now, you little two-timing whore. Nobody can murder a White Tiger and get away with it, especially a lame Dragon like you, you stupid wench."

That was all that he had to say. The words "White Tiger" automatically had everybody in the whole bar pointing firearms at him. Lame Dragon...ha! He doesn't know who he's messing with.

Zee looked neurotically at the Dragons before him. Before he could yell in terror, he was swiftly gunned down.

"Are you okay Julia?" a Dragon asked.

"I'm fine, thanks." The sound of gunfire filled he air. About ten White Tigers with submachine guns burst into the bar and brutally opened fire. They hit at least three Dragons, but the rest were still standing, now defending themselves. Glass shattered as a shower of bullets flew through the once silent air. Julia ducked and took hold of her pistol. Not again... She hit one Tiger that was shooting in from the window, and took refuge behind a pool table. Her bullets met with the Tigers' flesh, blood splattering over the floor. A machine gun abruptly went off and she turned around to see who was shooting. It was Don, loyally protecting his bar.

"Get your Tiger asses out of here before I shoot all you fucking cats down!" he thundered.

The Tigers deliberately ignored him, and they paid for their insubordination. In two minutes, the Tigers were all gunned down, either met death while protecting themselves or cowardly retreating. The tavern was a mess, bullet holes everywhere, glass was shot down, blood pools on pool tables. Don was overwhelmed with incredulity.

"Those fucking Tigers," he wrathfully complained, as he and other Dragons including Julia started cleaning up the pigsty.


***


"We have concluded that the assassination of Wen Lee was remarkable, very outstanding, unlike the abysmal attempted murder of Jun Tao, whom Agent Jorel Matsumoto failed to execute. We decided that you deserve the utmost position in the syndicate that suits you. You are identified as a top assassin."

Julia listened intently as the Van eulogized her excellent performances. She was standing at the center of the dimly lit room where the Van issued their orders to syndicate members who are assigned to take part in a mission. The room was huge and very sophisticated. Spotless red carpet stretched throughout the room and the pedestals the Van reigned on were massive. A replica of the Gold dragon that dangled in the ballroom vibrantly hung high behind the Elders. Though Julia has been in this room all her life, she still gaped in admiration at the exquisiteness.

"You will be assigned to go on a mission with other top assassins. Unfortunately, one of them could not make it, but you'll be introduced soon. These top assassins will be your partners, you must always stick together. Will you obediently abide by the rules?" the elders before her instructed. Julia bowed her head in deference.

"Yes, I will tolerate and stand for the will of the Red Dragon Clan." The Van nodded in satisfaction.

"Very well then. Let us introduce you to one of the top assassins who will be working with you. You may come out, Vicious."

Julia turned to her left where the Van had their eyes fixed on. Her eyes enlarged as they met the same pair of dark eyes that belonged to the man who had wooed her at the reception earlier that day. He walked up to her, dressed in the formal Red Dragon attire, and bowed.

"I am looking forward to working with you, Miss Julia," Vicious said enchantingly. His lips curled into a smile.

A Vicious smile...








***


A/N: That concludes Chapter 3. Please Read and Review! ^_^


~Moontenshi