15: Loopholes
"They're all fine," Kuririn announced, beaming. "Master Roshi wouldn't leave the island, and Umigame agreed-- seems they aren't too worried about any old army. Oolong wasn't back, though."
"Is that... Android 18?!?"
Kuririn paused at the doorway of the Briefs' living room, and his face reddened to roughly the shade of a half-ripened plum. Behind him, the statuesque blonde woman didn't even crack a smile.
Arrayed out before him in the living room was as pretty and as poorly planned an interrogation room as has ever been seen. The sounds of noisy, hysterical children playing wafted down from above, accompanied by bumping noises rather larger than those normal children could be expected to make. The zombie-faced nurse lay on the couch like a psychiatric patient; Piccolo loomed over her looking strikingly out-of-place as usual; Gohan stood with his jaw still on the floor in surprise, Tenshinhan's eyes were bulging (all three of them), Chaotsu was for some reason clutching his head as if in pain, and in one dark corner Yamucha was nursing alkaseltzer like he'd just come off a three day bender.
They were all staring at the pair framed by the doorway.
"So, guys," Kuririn ventured, tentatively. "How's it coming along?"
At that moment the nurse let out a horrible scream, and shot bolt upright on the couch.
"Get out of my mind, you repulsive, horrible, china doll freak! Auughhh! HELLLP! POLIIII--nph."
Piccolo threw an arm around the woman, muffling her, and Chaotzu hit the floor with a thump. Tenshinhan rushed to his side, and the woman struggled frantically and Chaotzu gradually pulled himself to a seated position, looking dizzy. He shot a murderous glare at Kuririn.
Kuririn reflexively grabbed his stomach-- then realized what he was doing and forced his hands down to his sides.
"Look what you made me do," Chaotzu said. "I've lost my concentration!"
"Going well, I see," said Android 18, impassively.
THUNK, said the ceiling.
"Ehh... Goten and Trunks," Gohan explained, pointing at the ceiling. "Just playing around."
"Are you here... to help us?" Piccolo's upper lip twitched slightly, revealing fangs.
Android 18 did not deign to give a response. Of any kind. In fact, she didn't move at all. A worried pall fell over the room
"S...so, Chaotzu, you... you were hypnotizing this... nurse?"
"I was," Chaotzu frowned, wide-eyed face eerily menacing, "until you broke my concentration."
"Can you enthrall her again?" asked Tenshinhan.
Chaotzu shook his head. "She broke out from under my hypnosis. Now she knows what's coming, she can protect herself."
"We got her to admit she was reporting to a colonel in the real army," Gohan said, attempting to fill Kuririn in. There was no point letting the conversation wander into more accusations when people's lives were on the line. "But the contact information was all temporary-- when I tried to call in, they ran a trace. I had to hang up, or they'd know we were on to them."
"Maybe it's about time they do know we're on to them," Piccolo grimaced. This was about as close as he ever came to sulking, and by the expression in his eyes, he wasn't proud of it.
"I don't think she knows where they took Vegeta," Gohan went on, "but that was as far as we'd gotten."
"Took Vegeta?" Kuririn exclaimed, coming forward. Yamucha hid his face in his hand. "What happened?"
At the mention of Vegeta's abduction-- comatose, from a hospital ward, helpless to defend himself-- the briefest of smiles crossed 18's face. Kuririn was eyeing Yamucha's fizzing glass suspiciously as Tenshinhan filled him in on the events he'd missed, when there was an earth-shaking yell, as of an enraged bull elephant. The windowpanes shook; a lamp fell over.
In the silence that followed, the shrill sound of Goten wailing emanated from the upstairs-- and everyone turned incredulously towards the couch, where an extremely enraged Piccolo stood, his hand dripping blood. Below him on the couch, the nurse sat, trying to cover her ears and massage her jaw at the same time.
"I wow't tehw you anytig," she said. Then: "Wai does it take five minuh's ahd a bwoken jaw to bite youw hand?"
"Hmph," said 18, breaking the silence at last. "Let me talk to her in the kitchen for a while."
Shocked, the warriors watched as the nurse looked up, first in hope, then with increasing trepidation as she noticed the varying expressions of disgust, concern, and complete terror on their faces.
It was Yamucha who broke the silence. "Are... are you sure that's a good..."
"I just want to look at her jaw." 18 walked over to the couch, and somewhat roughly helped the captive to her feet. The poor nurse seemed to relax onto the android's arm as she was helped to the kitchen, the others watching them go in shocked silence, as if worried that speaking would provoke 18 to try to help THEM to the kitchen... or send them to join Vegeta, for that matter. In any case, they held their peace.
As the swinging door shut behind her, they just barely heard her parting shot:
"Foolish life forms."
As the others began to tell Kuririn the story of Yamucha's battle in the hospital ward, Gohan kept glancing furtively at the door. He more than half expected yells, sobbing, the sounds of torture-- but the only noise coming from the kitchen was a low, soothing drone of a comforting female voice. It seemed 18 really was seeing to the nurse's jaw! Gohan shook his head. Perhaps they really had misjudged 18 from the start-- all of them but Kuririn, that is. All she had needed was time to adjust to the world-- but no. Gohan shook off the idea. She had blown up cities. He was getting off track.
It seemed like almost no time had passed, but already the kitchen door swung again, and the two women re-emerged, Android 18 still supporting the nurse on her arm-- although now it looked more like 18 was grabbing the nurse to hold her captive.
"Betty has something she'd like to say to you all," 18 informed them.
"I... uh..." the nurse glanced furtively at 18, shuddered, then spoke as quickly as possible: "the soldiers gossipped in the hall. They worked under a general named Gao. That's all I know, I swear!" At the last word, her voice jumped upward to such a high, frantic pitch that Gohan and Piccolo both covered their ears, the latter wincing.
"Is it enough?" 18 said, flatly.
"G... good enough," Kuririn smiled, laughing nervously. 18 relinquished her grasp on Nurse Betty's arm, and the woman fled back over to Piccolo, as if for protection.
"All they did was talk," Tenshinhan said, wonderingly.
Gohan sat quietly, but his mind was moving quickly. Gao-- the name was familiar. A middle aged general-- his mother had forced him to study military history along with everything else, and he recalled a young general from one of the exercises-- perhaps something in there would prove useful... "I'm going home," he announced; then added hastily, "to get a book-- I'll be right back!" And ran to the back door. It was a slim shot-- but it might be enough to find the department Gao was most often associated with, the locations that department had access to, even any information about military protection areas under his authority. He jumped high, feeling the burn of wind on his face, his mind already soaring ahead.
* * *
The helicopter was several hundred feet behind them; with her dark green parka pulled over her hair to avoid the chill, Bulma Briefs was almost unnoticeable for one of the only times in her life-- were it not for the minor oddity of a floating cat.
"How much further?" hissed Puar.
"We should be there by now," Bulma said, pushing the brush away from her path. Roughing it was so distateful-- brambles in her hair, feet turning on slippery leaves, the danger that one might be killed. She almost missed it.
"Sshh," said Puar, then dove into the bushes ahead, hissing, "duck!"
Bulma's heart raced as she dropped into a crouch. At first she heard nothing; then the muted sounds of heavy footfall in a forest. The smell of the wet leaves here was distinct and pungent. Bulma found herself focusing on it as the boots approached, measured in their tempo, inexorably slow-- or perhaps just from very far. She was grateful for Puar's ears; she might have blundered noisily on right into the patrol without them! There were definitely two men, soldiers by the cadence of their march-- almost on them now--
A sudden inspiration sprang into her head. Opportunities were not to be missed. Stretching her arm, she could just reach Puar's tail-- she nudged it. The cat turned, incredulous that Bulma could be risking communication just at the crucial moment.
net, mouthed Bulma silently. Puar looked confused, then suddenly her eyes widened in comprehension and fear-- at just about the same moment that Bulma reached out, grabbed her tail, and in one graceful moment stood up at flung her willy-nilly at the two soldiers.
Whirling in the air, Puar's flesh seemed to stretch and bind itself strong, wider and wider until gaps formed in it, and it was not a cat, but a net of thick rope that flew over the soldiers, entangling them before they could cock rifles, stretching to gag them at their mouths. Clearly terrified, as well as suddenly hampered by rope, the men fell in a chaotic tangle of man, metal, and rope.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" shouted the net.
"Hush," Bulma said, striding forward to take the guns from the soldiers. Too late she saw the flash of a more primitive tool-- Puar cried out as the knife slashed her form, then Bulma's foot was on the man's forearm, and she had the knife. Bulma pressed it to his neck, watching his chest rise and fall quickly, panicked. She could feel herself reddening.
"How dare you hurt her. How dare you?" She demanded, and pressed her new blade to her throat, where she thought the artery would climb. She could see blood pumping in his throat there. "When we take the gag out, you will not scream. You will not scream or I will cut you like you cut her, but I will cut you here. Do not test me-- you are expendable here." She indicated his patrolmate with her head, then turned, and slowly, slowly pulled the wide section of net from his face.
"M- m- monster--" the soldier chattered, eyes flicking left and right to the strange net that held him.
"Enough 'm- m- monster'," Bulma mocked him. "Which way to your base? Where are you holding Son Chichi?" She pressed the knife closer. "Show me with your hand. That way?" She nodded as the free joint of his hand indicated a northwestern direction, up the side of a small mountain. "Inside the mountain?" she guessed, and he nodded quickly. The blade cut his throat, and he said,
"a- a- a--",
then she put the gag back into his mouth.
"Do not try to escape, or we will kill you," Bulma said, stepping back and dropping the knife-- it was time to trade for some bigger ammo. She hefted a rifle. "Puar, let them go," she said. "Both of you-- strip."
Five minutes later, two blue-haired women stood in the forest in army fatigues in front of two very frightened, very naked men. The shorter woman had a thick bandage wrapped around her thigh.
"Is this body all right?" Puar asked, surveying herself.
"Very soldierly," Bulma said. "The blood's a nice touch. Me?"
Puar frowned critically. "You'll pass, I guess."
"What about us?" said the second soldier, rapidly becoming more annoyed than frightened.
"Oh for..." Bulma rolled her eyes; then, quickly, so that she wouldn't have time to second guess herself, she squeezed. The report of the rifle impacted her shoulder, and her eyes closed; she didn't see the second shot, only heard the cries.
"Bulma!" Puar cried in horror. "You didn't!"
Bulma turned her head, trying to avoid the blood that was spread around the clearing. "What was I supposed to do? They would have told their superiors about us. They're military men, and I don't have any way to tie them up effectively!"
Puar's newly human face darkened. "You really are his mate."
"This is war, cat," Bulma said, her voice shaking. Behind her, one of the men was gasping in pain. "We can't afford to not be ruthless. Goku knew that. How many soldiers in the Red Ribbon Army did he kill?"
"Don't you bring him into this!" Puar pointed accusingly at the clearing. "We don't even know if they were involved! We just followed a helicopter, hoping for a break! These are just soldiers on patrol, doing their duty!"
"I never expected to hear such nice sentiment coming from an outlaw!" Bulma shrieked, her chest heaving. She felt sick. The clearing smelled of blood, and Puar just looked at her, shaking her head. The cat was right-- they didn't even know if these soldiers were involved; every minute spent on this diversion was a minute Vegeta languished in a hospital, waiting for them to summon Shenlong and save him. But she couldn't abandon this diversion, not just yet; every adventurous bone in her body-- and every bone in her body was adventurous-- was telling her to go to this base. Opportunity didn't give her Capsule Copter a flyby every day. She knew her decision to kill these men had been right, and that now for time's sake she also had to walk away from them. But Puar's eyes on her face, the warm light filtering through the treetops onto a disgusting, havoc-filled clearing-- she found she couldn't just do that. She couldn't walk away after all.
At times she had felt that as Vegeta softened to the world, those in close contact had hardened around to support him-- or perhaps had always been that way, that she was never soft like the others. But that didn't mean she had to be as ruthless as he was, all the time.
Bulma reached into her purse, pulling forth two beans.
"Senzu..." Puar marveled. "Did..."
"Filched them from Chaotzu for us," Bulma said. "Only two." She knelt gently beside the battered men. One she'd only got in the thigh, although he was bleeding heavily; the other had been hit in the stomach, and was barely breathing. The man hit in the thigh shied away from her, but was too weak to prevent her putting the bean into his mouth. She stroked his throat, forcing him to swallow.
"Then that means..."
Bulma stood up, her work done. Already their wounds were closing. "Now we're really on our own." She cocked her head. "Although I don't see what you're worried about; you can just fly back to Dende if you want to. I'm the one who's Earth-bound."
The soldier who had been wounded in the stomach patted his unscarred flesh, wiping the blood from it. "Wh.. what are you?" he said.
Bulma turned, cocking the gun. "Ghosts and witches," she said. "Get out of here and never come back! Next time we won't be so merciful!"
As one, the men fled, shivering in the chill breeze, leaving the women to their claim: directions to a secret base, disguises, two rifles, and two miracle cures the less.
"Was that your plan all along?" Puar asked, looking slyly at her companion. "To let them go, just scare them by shooting them in the guts?"
Bulma shot a blank look at Puar, then kept walking. Some things a girl had to keep to herself.
Forty minutes later, they arrived at a door in the ground.
Small, only four feet high, and set at a 45 degree angle in a sloping rock face, it was guarded by two soldiers, two padlocks, and a complicated-looking keypad security device.
"We're here to relieve you," said Puar, saluting.
"We were expecting Shiu," said the shorter soldier, a woman.
"Ah, no matter-- you guys are late!" said her companion, stretching his arms in a wide yawn. "I'm for barracks. About time I got a little break for sleep and grub."
"You guys knock yourself out, all right?" said the woman. "Watch for ghosts."
As easily as that, the shift was turned over; and as the backs of the fatigues vanished mistily into the night, Puar and Bulma turned their attention to the locking systems.
"The code box is mine," said Bulma. She pulled a small screwdriver from her purse-- at last, here was a challenge up her alley! Enough of this running around with guns and soldiers and shapeshifters.
"And these are mine," said Puar, to Bulma's distress shrinking abruptly into nothingness, the clothes dropping to the ground. Bulma started back in horror.
"Here, Bulma," came the squeaking familiar voice. She wheeled-- there was a set of iron keys, with Puar's bandage hanging from the ring, floating in midair. Bulma laughed.
"I'd forgotten that trick," she said. "But it will take me a little longer with mine. This is a pretty sophisticated system here... but we should be able to get in with... heh, I guess it wasn't as sophisticated as I thought," she frowned, a little disappointed, as the lock fizzled, the red light flicking to green, and there was a clicking noise. "No challenges today, I guess," she gloated, grabbing Puar out of midair.
"I mmmph-- think we've had about enofphh-- challenges for one day-- whew!" Puar popped back into human form, pulling her uniform around her. Both padlocks were open. "Better stay in costume for now," she whispered, and they cautiously pushed the door open.
A dark hallway greeted them, curving away into the depths of the hillside. Somewhere ahead, far ahead, the noise and bustle of a military base echoed in contrast with the forest noises that surrounded them.
"Well," whispered Bulma as she pocketed her tools, "it looks like we've found the back door."
"Quick, before they notice," hissed Puar; and they slipped through the door and pushed it shut behind them, softly, crouching there, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dark.
"They're all fine," Kuririn announced, beaming. "Master Roshi wouldn't leave the island, and Umigame agreed-- seems they aren't too worried about any old army. Oolong wasn't back, though."
"Is that... Android 18?!?"
Kuririn paused at the doorway of the Briefs' living room, and his face reddened to roughly the shade of a half-ripened plum. Behind him, the statuesque blonde woman didn't even crack a smile.
Arrayed out before him in the living room was as pretty and as poorly planned an interrogation room as has ever been seen. The sounds of noisy, hysterical children playing wafted down from above, accompanied by bumping noises rather larger than those normal children could be expected to make. The zombie-faced nurse lay on the couch like a psychiatric patient; Piccolo loomed over her looking strikingly out-of-place as usual; Gohan stood with his jaw still on the floor in surprise, Tenshinhan's eyes were bulging (all three of them), Chaotsu was for some reason clutching his head as if in pain, and in one dark corner Yamucha was nursing alkaseltzer like he'd just come off a three day bender.
They were all staring at the pair framed by the doorway.
"So, guys," Kuririn ventured, tentatively. "How's it coming along?"
At that moment the nurse let out a horrible scream, and shot bolt upright on the couch.
"Get out of my mind, you repulsive, horrible, china doll freak! Auughhh! HELLLP! POLIIII--nph."
Piccolo threw an arm around the woman, muffling her, and Chaotzu hit the floor with a thump. Tenshinhan rushed to his side, and the woman struggled frantically and Chaotzu gradually pulled himself to a seated position, looking dizzy. He shot a murderous glare at Kuririn.
Kuririn reflexively grabbed his stomach-- then realized what he was doing and forced his hands down to his sides.
"Look what you made me do," Chaotzu said. "I've lost my concentration!"
"Going well, I see," said Android 18, impassively.
THUNK, said the ceiling.
"Ehh... Goten and Trunks," Gohan explained, pointing at the ceiling. "Just playing around."
"Are you here... to help us?" Piccolo's upper lip twitched slightly, revealing fangs.
Android 18 did not deign to give a response. Of any kind. In fact, she didn't move at all. A worried pall fell over the room
"S...so, Chaotzu, you... you were hypnotizing this... nurse?"
"I was," Chaotzu frowned, wide-eyed face eerily menacing, "until you broke my concentration."
"Can you enthrall her again?" asked Tenshinhan.
Chaotzu shook his head. "She broke out from under my hypnosis. Now she knows what's coming, she can protect herself."
"We got her to admit she was reporting to a colonel in the real army," Gohan said, attempting to fill Kuririn in. There was no point letting the conversation wander into more accusations when people's lives were on the line. "But the contact information was all temporary-- when I tried to call in, they ran a trace. I had to hang up, or they'd know we were on to them."
"Maybe it's about time they do know we're on to them," Piccolo grimaced. This was about as close as he ever came to sulking, and by the expression in his eyes, he wasn't proud of it.
"I don't think she knows where they took Vegeta," Gohan went on, "but that was as far as we'd gotten."
"Took Vegeta?" Kuririn exclaimed, coming forward. Yamucha hid his face in his hand. "What happened?"
At the mention of Vegeta's abduction-- comatose, from a hospital ward, helpless to defend himself-- the briefest of smiles crossed 18's face. Kuririn was eyeing Yamucha's fizzing glass suspiciously as Tenshinhan filled him in on the events he'd missed, when there was an earth-shaking yell, as of an enraged bull elephant. The windowpanes shook; a lamp fell over.
In the silence that followed, the shrill sound of Goten wailing emanated from the upstairs-- and everyone turned incredulously towards the couch, where an extremely enraged Piccolo stood, his hand dripping blood. Below him on the couch, the nurse sat, trying to cover her ears and massage her jaw at the same time.
"I wow't tehw you anytig," she said. Then: "Wai does it take five minuh's ahd a bwoken jaw to bite youw hand?"
"Hmph," said 18, breaking the silence at last. "Let me talk to her in the kitchen for a while."
Shocked, the warriors watched as the nurse looked up, first in hope, then with increasing trepidation as she noticed the varying expressions of disgust, concern, and complete terror on their faces.
It was Yamucha who broke the silence. "Are... are you sure that's a good..."
"I just want to look at her jaw." 18 walked over to the couch, and somewhat roughly helped the captive to her feet. The poor nurse seemed to relax onto the android's arm as she was helped to the kitchen, the others watching them go in shocked silence, as if worried that speaking would provoke 18 to try to help THEM to the kitchen... or send them to join Vegeta, for that matter. In any case, they held their peace.
As the swinging door shut behind her, they just barely heard her parting shot:
"Foolish life forms."
As the others began to tell Kuririn the story of Yamucha's battle in the hospital ward, Gohan kept glancing furtively at the door. He more than half expected yells, sobbing, the sounds of torture-- but the only noise coming from the kitchen was a low, soothing drone of a comforting female voice. It seemed 18 really was seeing to the nurse's jaw! Gohan shook his head. Perhaps they really had misjudged 18 from the start-- all of them but Kuririn, that is. All she had needed was time to adjust to the world-- but no. Gohan shook off the idea. She had blown up cities. He was getting off track.
It seemed like almost no time had passed, but already the kitchen door swung again, and the two women re-emerged, Android 18 still supporting the nurse on her arm-- although now it looked more like 18 was grabbing the nurse to hold her captive.
"Betty has something she'd like to say to you all," 18 informed them.
"I... uh..." the nurse glanced furtively at 18, shuddered, then spoke as quickly as possible: "the soldiers gossipped in the hall. They worked under a general named Gao. That's all I know, I swear!" At the last word, her voice jumped upward to such a high, frantic pitch that Gohan and Piccolo both covered their ears, the latter wincing.
"Is it enough?" 18 said, flatly.
"G... good enough," Kuririn smiled, laughing nervously. 18 relinquished her grasp on Nurse Betty's arm, and the woman fled back over to Piccolo, as if for protection.
"All they did was talk," Tenshinhan said, wonderingly.
Gohan sat quietly, but his mind was moving quickly. Gao-- the name was familiar. A middle aged general-- his mother had forced him to study military history along with everything else, and he recalled a young general from one of the exercises-- perhaps something in there would prove useful... "I'm going home," he announced; then added hastily, "to get a book-- I'll be right back!" And ran to the back door. It was a slim shot-- but it might be enough to find the department Gao was most often associated with, the locations that department had access to, even any information about military protection areas under his authority. He jumped high, feeling the burn of wind on his face, his mind already soaring ahead.
* * *
The helicopter was several hundred feet behind them; with her dark green parka pulled over her hair to avoid the chill, Bulma Briefs was almost unnoticeable for one of the only times in her life-- were it not for the minor oddity of a floating cat.
"How much further?" hissed Puar.
"We should be there by now," Bulma said, pushing the brush away from her path. Roughing it was so distateful-- brambles in her hair, feet turning on slippery leaves, the danger that one might be killed. She almost missed it.
"Sshh," said Puar, then dove into the bushes ahead, hissing, "duck!"
Bulma's heart raced as she dropped into a crouch. At first she heard nothing; then the muted sounds of heavy footfall in a forest. The smell of the wet leaves here was distinct and pungent. Bulma found herself focusing on it as the boots approached, measured in their tempo, inexorably slow-- or perhaps just from very far. She was grateful for Puar's ears; she might have blundered noisily on right into the patrol without them! There were definitely two men, soldiers by the cadence of their march-- almost on them now--
A sudden inspiration sprang into her head. Opportunities were not to be missed. Stretching her arm, she could just reach Puar's tail-- she nudged it. The cat turned, incredulous that Bulma could be risking communication just at the crucial moment.
net, mouthed Bulma silently. Puar looked confused, then suddenly her eyes widened in comprehension and fear-- at just about the same moment that Bulma reached out, grabbed her tail, and in one graceful moment stood up at flung her willy-nilly at the two soldiers.
Whirling in the air, Puar's flesh seemed to stretch and bind itself strong, wider and wider until gaps formed in it, and it was not a cat, but a net of thick rope that flew over the soldiers, entangling them before they could cock rifles, stretching to gag them at their mouths. Clearly terrified, as well as suddenly hampered by rope, the men fell in a chaotic tangle of man, metal, and rope.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" shouted the net.
"Hush," Bulma said, striding forward to take the guns from the soldiers. Too late she saw the flash of a more primitive tool-- Puar cried out as the knife slashed her form, then Bulma's foot was on the man's forearm, and she had the knife. Bulma pressed it to his neck, watching his chest rise and fall quickly, panicked. She could feel herself reddening.
"How dare you hurt her. How dare you?" She demanded, and pressed her new blade to her throat, where she thought the artery would climb. She could see blood pumping in his throat there. "When we take the gag out, you will not scream. You will not scream or I will cut you like you cut her, but I will cut you here. Do not test me-- you are expendable here." She indicated his patrolmate with her head, then turned, and slowly, slowly pulled the wide section of net from his face.
"M- m- monster--" the soldier chattered, eyes flicking left and right to the strange net that held him.
"Enough 'm- m- monster'," Bulma mocked him. "Which way to your base? Where are you holding Son Chichi?" She pressed the knife closer. "Show me with your hand. That way?" She nodded as the free joint of his hand indicated a northwestern direction, up the side of a small mountain. "Inside the mountain?" she guessed, and he nodded quickly. The blade cut his throat, and he said,
"a- a- a--",
then she put the gag back into his mouth.
"Do not try to escape, or we will kill you," Bulma said, stepping back and dropping the knife-- it was time to trade for some bigger ammo. She hefted a rifle. "Puar, let them go," she said. "Both of you-- strip."
Five minutes later, two blue-haired women stood in the forest in army fatigues in front of two very frightened, very naked men. The shorter woman had a thick bandage wrapped around her thigh.
"Is this body all right?" Puar asked, surveying herself.
"Very soldierly," Bulma said. "The blood's a nice touch. Me?"
Puar frowned critically. "You'll pass, I guess."
"What about us?" said the second soldier, rapidly becoming more annoyed than frightened.
"Oh for..." Bulma rolled her eyes; then, quickly, so that she wouldn't have time to second guess herself, she squeezed. The report of the rifle impacted her shoulder, and her eyes closed; she didn't see the second shot, only heard the cries.
"Bulma!" Puar cried in horror. "You didn't!"
Bulma turned her head, trying to avoid the blood that was spread around the clearing. "What was I supposed to do? They would have told their superiors about us. They're military men, and I don't have any way to tie them up effectively!"
Puar's newly human face darkened. "You really are his mate."
"This is war, cat," Bulma said, her voice shaking. Behind her, one of the men was gasping in pain. "We can't afford to not be ruthless. Goku knew that. How many soldiers in the Red Ribbon Army did he kill?"
"Don't you bring him into this!" Puar pointed accusingly at the clearing. "We don't even know if they were involved! We just followed a helicopter, hoping for a break! These are just soldiers on patrol, doing their duty!"
"I never expected to hear such nice sentiment coming from an outlaw!" Bulma shrieked, her chest heaving. She felt sick. The clearing smelled of blood, and Puar just looked at her, shaking her head. The cat was right-- they didn't even know if these soldiers were involved; every minute spent on this diversion was a minute Vegeta languished in a hospital, waiting for them to summon Shenlong and save him. But she couldn't abandon this diversion, not just yet; every adventurous bone in her body-- and every bone in her body was adventurous-- was telling her to go to this base. Opportunity didn't give her Capsule Copter a flyby every day. She knew her decision to kill these men had been right, and that now for time's sake she also had to walk away from them. But Puar's eyes on her face, the warm light filtering through the treetops onto a disgusting, havoc-filled clearing-- she found she couldn't just do that. She couldn't walk away after all.
At times she had felt that as Vegeta softened to the world, those in close contact had hardened around to support him-- or perhaps had always been that way, that she was never soft like the others. But that didn't mean she had to be as ruthless as he was, all the time.
Bulma reached into her purse, pulling forth two beans.
"Senzu..." Puar marveled. "Did..."
"Filched them from Chaotzu for us," Bulma said. "Only two." She knelt gently beside the battered men. One she'd only got in the thigh, although he was bleeding heavily; the other had been hit in the stomach, and was barely breathing. The man hit in the thigh shied away from her, but was too weak to prevent her putting the bean into his mouth. She stroked his throat, forcing him to swallow.
"Then that means..."
Bulma stood up, her work done. Already their wounds were closing. "Now we're really on our own." She cocked her head. "Although I don't see what you're worried about; you can just fly back to Dende if you want to. I'm the one who's Earth-bound."
The soldier who had been wounded in the stomach patted his unscarred flesh, wiping the blood from it. "Wh.. what are you?" he said.
Bulma turned, cocking the gun. "Ghosts and witches," she said. "Get out of here and never come back! Next time we won't be so merciful!"
As one, the men fled, shivering in the chill breeze, leaving the women to their claim: directions to a secret base, disguises, two rifles, and two miracle cures the less.
"Was that your plan all along?" Puar asked, looking slyly at her companion. "To let them go, just scare them by shooting them in the guts?"
Bulma shot a blank look at Puar, then kept walking. Some things a girl had to keep to herself.
Forty minutes later, they arrived at a door in the ground.
Small, only four feet high, and set at a 45 degree angle in a sloping rock face, it was guarded by two soldiers, two padlocks, and a complicated-looking keypad security device.
"We're here to relieve you," said Puar, saluting.
"We were expecting Shiu," said the shorter soldier, a woman.
"Ah, no matter-- you guys are late!" said her companion, stretching his arms in a wide yawn. "I'm for barracks. About time I got a little break for sleep and grub."
"You guys knock yourself out, all right?" said the woman. "Watch for ghosts."
As easily as that, the shift was turned over; and as the backs of the fatigues vanished mistily into the night, Puar and Bulma turned their attention to the locking systems.
"The code box is mine," said Bulma. She pulled a small screwdriver from her purse-- at last, here was a challenge up her alley! Enough of this running around with guns and soldiers and shapeshifters.
"And these are mine," said Puar, to Bulma's distress shrinking abruptly into nothingness, the clothes dropping to the ground. Bulma started back in horror.
"Here, Bulma," came the squeaking familiar voice. She wheeled-- there was a set of iron keys, with Puar's bandage hanging from the ring, floating in midair. Bulma laughed.
"I'd forgotten that trick," she said. "But it will take me a little longer with mine. This is a pretty sophisticated system here... but we should be able to get in with... heh, I guess it wasn't as sophisticated as I thought," she frowned, a little disappointed, as the lock fizzled, the red light flicking to green, and there was a clicking noise. "No challenges today, I guess," she gloated, grabbing Puar out of midair.
"I mmmph-- think we've had about enofphh-- challenges for one day-- whew!" Puar popped back into human form, pulling her uniform around her. Both padlocks were open. "Better stay in costume for now," she whispered, and they cautiously pushed the door open.
A dark hallway greeted them, curving away into the depths of the hillside. Somewhere ahead, far ahead, the noise and bustle of a military base echoed in contrast with the forest noises that surrounded them.
"Well," whispered Bulma as she pocketed her tools, "it looks like we've found the back door."
"Quick, before they notice," hissed Puar; and they slipped through the door and pushed it shut behind them, softly, crouching there, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the dark.