HEY YA'LL!

Death Cyborg here, okay you know the drill, I do not own Cyborg 009 tear

Whispers so sad. Cough they belong to the dudes that made them, not me.

Albert: mockpray Thank the lord!

Oi! Shut. It.

Anyway, this story is about Jet going back to The Bronx and having to save his people (Yes he has people) from the Baddearts. An enemy gang family. Also the Gods Odin and Loki find their way into the affairs of the Links and Baddearts. This is a 002x013 (Aka Fire) fic, I LOVE that pairing! When you see some ones name in this writing its from their side of the story.

DC!

Ps. Thanks for the reviews for my last fic, The lost captain! Also there is some 003-hate ness here so if cho like her just skip those parts.

Remember R&R!!!

The crowd screamed his name; he looked out of the bulletproof window. His long spiky red hair flicked behind him as he turned his head to look at the Japanese boy next to him. The boy was wearing a black turtleneck top, baggy dark blue cargo pants. He looked at lot like a beat poet. Joe returned Jet's gaze, and smiled slightly.

"Good luck man, I hope that the Baddeart's aren't evil as you make them out to be." Joe said clapping Jet on the shoulder.

"Thanks dude, and yeah I hope that too but they, with no doubt from me at lest, that they still are. I mean they were when I was a kid so you know, can never tell."

(I know that it didn't make sense but we're with Jet here so what do you expect?)

Suddenly the car jerked violently, Jet looked at the TV in front of him, on the screen, only moments ago, the people out-side were waving and cheering for the man whom was meant to bring them hope and peace. Out- side the people were now being blown up, the crowd moving like water, side to side, in and out, the bloody bodies flying everywhere even onto the car.

"PYUNMA DRIVE!" Jet yelled.

The car slowly edged forward because Pyunma was too reluctant to drive over the people, alive or dead.

(I think that's cute)

A horrible screech reached the men.

"JOEY WHERE ARE YOU? DON'T LEAVE ME!!!" 003 screamed.

"Oh my god it's the bitch whose eyelashes are longer than the skirts she wears." Jet said sadly.

A tall man walked down the street he was well over seen feet tall, the bullets passing through him like he was some dark mist. He was wearing a deep brown cowboy hat, a long white coat, a red turtleneck, and black baggy cargo pants. His eyes were light sky blue and shone even though there was no light, his skin was dark brown. He wore steel-toed boots that came up to his knees; he had a short ginger beard. The man came up to the car, jumped onto the top and punched at the hutch. Dents moved across the roof as he hit the metal. Françoise suddenly smack against the glass, the man screamed and ran off like a little girl.

(She'll do that to ya mate)

He ran off yelling.

"THE HORROR, IT BRUNS! MY EYES, MY EYES!"

Then he suddenly hit the wall, fell on the ground comatose. Jet and Joe looked at each other surprise and horror for Françoise had somehow got into the heavily armoured Cadillac.

"Joey pooh!" she laughed hugging Joe.

Jet picked up his handgun and shot her in the head, she slumped on Joe. Jet opened the hutch and chucked her body out onto the ground. The car drove into a building; the building had a huge glass elevator shaft. In side the case black-faced bodies hung by their feet, which were nailed into the wall, at the bottom of the shaft the bones of long gone bodies were in a heap. Jet got out of the Cadillac, his black trench coat waving behind him as he walked over to a man the same height a GJR, his dog-tags clanked together as he quickened his pace. His completely black out-fit hung on just barely on his thin frame.

"I'm Marshall Baddeart." The man said; his voice had a New Zealand tinge to it.

"Jet Link." Jet said reaching his arm out to shake Marshall's hand, but Marshall just ignored it.

(Cat hissasshole.)

"Mr. Link, the Baddearts would like to have a treaty with you Links." He spat Jet's last name as if he said it he would die. "If you refuse, we will declare war." Marshall then bowed, long blonde dreads hung over his face. Marshall straitened up, and took off his black sunglasses. His eyes were big and oval shaped, one was sea green and the other was deep crystal blue. His skin was pale and freckled; his mouth was in a naturally formed smirk.

"What would the Links get out of it?" Jet asked, resting his hands on his hips.

(Giggle don't ask!)

"Your people will never have to fight for food, they will have homes, and they won't have to worry about the demon men." Marshall said cocking his head to one side.

Jet felt the old ganger inside yelling at him to drop it here, but his people needed him to make this deal. Jet felt the old ganger inside break down as he reached out his hand to shake on it. Back in the Cadillac, Jet broke down, he now hated himself, and he absolutely loathed himself for working with the Baddearts.

"Jet its okay, you did the right thing dude." Joe whispered.

"You can say its okay, you haven't seen what they can do Joe. They are evil, absolute evil."

Joe gave a dull laugh. "They can't be as bad as Black Ghost, can they?"

Jet laughed and smirked "That's what you think."