Chapter Five

First and Cass. Near the entrance to Joe Louis Arena, an old relic of the late 1990's, early 2000. ANCIENT thing. Gotta love it. I went down to Cobo's Bar, and asked around. What I found was a slum drunk. But he seemed to know something.

"Alright old man. Whaddaya know?"
"I.. I shaw wa man.. big, BURLY man.... brown, shvivled hair, all crashee an' mushed up... An' you ain't hear'n nuttin from me until I gitsh me anutter DRINK!"
"Give im another drink, here."
"Sure thing."
"Na, ash far ash I remimber it, he wash tall an had shree clawns falla'n 'im aroun, shoun'ed li'a hyena whin 'e laughed. Clean, crishp, deep ital'n voish. Tink he shed 'is name w's Gerrard 'r sumpin."
"Thank you, sir. Get this man another drink."
"Yessir."

I'd found what I needed. . . Sort of. It was a cold night, nothing unusual. But it was unusually quiet. An UNNERVING quiet. Too quiet... I knew something was wrong. Some nasty shit was gonna go down. It was up to me now to find out when and where. And how, for that matter.

Nights like that night are the kind when something really huge happens. I didn't like it, it made me nervous. I headed back to the bar, probably because I didn't know where else to go.

"Hum... Joe, gimme a drink."
"Usual?"
"Nah. Short n' straight up."
"You got the feelin?"
I took the shot.
"Me too."
"Say, where's that red goon?"
"Plastered. I propped him up in the corner. God was he ever WASTED. After you left, some guys came starting trouble, and he was too drunk to do anything. The PAS got the guys off of him, but he just kept getting drunker'n drunker'n drunker."
"You finally used the pump-action?"
"Pump Action Shotgun is a VERY good friend of mine Tracer. You know it. Matter of fact, didn't you GIVE it to me when the bar first opened?"
"...God damn... I did! 'Nuther shot."
"Yeah, sure. Jezzuz Christ, Haven't you come here ever'day since the place opened?"
"Yep." I drank the shot, and stared over to the reploid. "Ya know, as I was out and about, I found who stole this guy's sword 'r' whatever."
"Yeah? Who was it?"
"Well, a drunkard told me, so I gotta piece it all together."
"Was it the CSD?"
"Cobo Slum Drunk?"
"Yeah."
"Yup."
"Well damn man! He's like an oracle!"
"Well, the man is tall, big and burly, crazy and messed up brown hair, sounds like a hyena when he laughs, had three 'clowns' followin' 'im. Had a clean, crisp italian voice, and he recalled amazingly the name that sounds sorta like Gerrard."
"Hmm... I know who he means."
"Wha?!?!"
"George Capashen. Calls 'imself Gerrard for some reason."
"Hmm..."
"I'm s'prised you ain't remimb'rin him. You had the biggest damn barfight in here wi'thim, and that was the first time I used the PAS."
"HIM?!"
"Yup. 'Nuther shot?"
"Yeah."
I took the shot, and walked over to the reploid.
"Ya know, Joe."
"Hmm?"
"I was thinkin, while I was out."
"What?"
"Maybe this guy is fer real. Maybe we can trust 'im."
"YOU'VE GONE INSANE!"
"No. Think about it, Joe. YOU are the kin of the Black Bomber, Joe Louis. YOU have a kid named Joe Louis. And in the future, who knows, Joe Louis may still have blood goin out and about. And the technology of this guy... it's incred'ble. I think he's fer real."
"You've gone plum nuts."
"Have I Joe? Have I REALLY?" That question spurred a puzzled look on his face. He was debating it, I knew he was. So as he was doing so, I left.


I was in the heart of the downtown area. I stood in front of a good restaurant that'd been here for a long time, 'The Golden Fleece'. I saw a young girl walking down the street, but I'd had no clue why she was wearing what she was. It was NO fashion of these times.
"Excuse me sir!"
"Huh?"
The dame had long, blonde hair too, but she had green eyes that just made you crumble to pieces. But she wasn't trouble if she ever bothered to say 'Excuse me'.
"Sir, can you help me?"
"Yeah, sure. What'r you lookin fer?"
"*huff huff* I've come here... *cough* This is gonna sound *huff puff* wierd, but from the year 22XX."
"I've heard wierder in my day. Matter of fact, heheh... I've SEEN wierder TODAY!"
"Heheheh... thank goodness..."
"So what brings you to the prosperous times?" What a wierd f**king day.
"I was searching... in 22XX for a ... guy named Zero..."
"What's 'e like?"
She handed me a photo. I looked for a minute and nearly died of a heart attack. The dame was gonna be pushy if she knew that I knew where he was. But I couldn't tell her, NOT just yet. But maybe I could use this situation to my advantage...
"Hm. I think I saw this guy today."
"Oh really? WHERE?"
"Settle, settle. I said I THINK."
"oh..."
"But what do you know about him?"
"He's a Maverick Hunter, he was the defender of Earth against Sigma, along with Maverick Hunter X."
"Mmmmhmmmm...."The dame was freakin hysterical. "That all?"
"There's a lot more. Need I continue?"
"...No, not really. You hungry?"
"Oh my, yes I am... I haven't eaten in two days..."
"Well, come in to this here restaraunt, it's good eatin. Greek food is good for ya, too... usually."
"Thank you very much uh... what's your name?"
"Tell me yours first, you lovely little creature."
"My name's Ciel. I'm a scientist."
"Oh?" I flipped out my badge. "Tracer Bullet. Reploid Detective."
"Wow! A detective... in 22XX, those really don't exist anymore..."
"Pity. Shall we get out of the rain?"
"What ra---"
CRAAAAACCK! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Rumble rumble bumble rumble bumble rumble bum
"Yes, let's get out of the rain."
Thank god I've lived in this city my whole life...

We sat down at the bar.

"So, Tracer, what do you do?"
"Uh, hold on. Two gyro specials, Zikakis."
"Zikakis?" Ciel asked.
The guy at the bar looked at Ciel. "My name's Plamen Zikakis. Long time friend of Tracer. He's been comin to my restaurant for... god, how long now?"
"Since I was 13... that makes 15 years now."
"See? LONG time friend. And you're about to ask about my name, I know you are. My dad is Armenian, my mom is from Greece."
"oh..."
"Hey, cheer up! What's wrong, li'l lady?"
"It's just... ah, nevermind, I'm just hungry."
"HUNGRY? Why, I'll fix that!"
"So Zikakis, hows the family?"
"Oh, we've been doin great! Ever since you got those blackmailers offa me, the money's been goin to the right places. How's business been with you?"
"Same old, same old. Just solved another bank heist."
"Eh, good to hear."

Two large gyros came out, and I picked mine up, and looked at Ciel.

"Hey, ain'cha gonna eat?"
"Oh, foods here already?"
"Heheh, sure is young lady! WHere'd you find this cute lil number, Tracer?"
"Tourist that got lost."
"heh, and you prolly said to go inside cause it was about to rain?"
"Isn't that what ALWAYS happens this time of year?"
"Hahaha! So true..."

My cell phone went off.

"Hello."
{Tracer? It's me, Joe. GET OVER HERE NOW.}
"Got it."

I hung up fast, and threw my hat back on.

"Watch her. If she wants more, put it on my tab. Joe's in trouble."
"Alright. You got it, but here! Catch!"

He threw me some tear gas.

"Thanks, Plamen."
"Anytime.

I bolted as fast as I could down to the bar. I opened the door to find NOTHING good...