The characters Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, Faye Valentine, Edward Wong, Ein, Antonio, Carlos, & Jobin are creations from the Cowboy Bebop TV series and movie. They do not belong to me.
The characters Dr. Billie Vaughn, Margaret Jones, Seymour (a.k.a. Ferret- face), Alexander 'Randy' Vanderhorn, Argo Kuzmin, Biko, & Police Detective Booker are my creations.
"The incident is starting to impact the hospital, Doctor Vaughn. Should I get supplies?"
For a moment, Doctor Billie Vaughn stared at the ferret-faced orderly outside the door to a room in the intensive care unit. "Yes, get more supplies. Get more of everything you can think of: bandages, legitimate painkillers like morphine not that backroom garbage."
"Even blood?"
"Especially blood. Check with Head Nurse Jones; she knows what we need."
The orderly went to round up some help for his supply run. Billie was just glad the guy left so she could finish her rounds in peace. She shook her head as she pushed open the door.
"Incident," she thought, "massacre would be the better description." It had been a week since that massacre, but to Billie it felt like one endless night. Over 100 men were sent to this hospital. Some men were dead on arrival; others had various degrees of wounds mostly caused by bullets and from what Billie could only assume to be explosion debris. "Too many lives were lost, but for what reason?" The young doctor knew better than to dwell on such a question.
She entered the room where, as far as she was concerned, her only patient lay. Due to his injuries, her patient looked as if ancient Egyptians priests did a shoddy job of wrapping their nobleman; his legs and parts of his head, arms, and chest were bare. His green hair stuck out of the wrapping making him comical in appearance. He was half dead when he was brought in. Somehow the men who brought him in figured out a way to stop his insides from falling out of what could only be a sword slash across his torso. Between stabilizing him and putting him back together, her patient almost single-handedly cleaned out the blood supply. Under normal circumstances, Billie would have given up on him because it would be more merciful to let him slip away, but Shin's men brought him which meant the Syndicate wanted this guy badly, so she had no choice but to help bring him back to the living.
The young doctor walked towards her patient, who occupied the bed farthest from the door. Standing on the far side of the patient's bed was Head Nurse Margaret Jones, a portly, salt-and-pepper haired, middle-aged woman whose face was scarred with years of worry lines. The head nurse furrowed her eyebrows. "Billie, have you eaten anything today?"
"Yeah, I did. Ferret-face smuggled in two cheeseburgers for me. I ate them in the morgue."
"That's just wrong," clucked the head nurse.
"Why? Because I found the one place 'round here no one likes going to?"
"No." Maggie rolled her eyes. "Because there's at least two corpses that have parts that resemble ground meat."
"Really? I was too hungry to notice. And besides," said Billie as she leaned over her patient and used her stethoscope to listen to his heart, "considering what I've seen over the past couple of days, those bodies wouldn't bother me. His heart is growing stronger."
"And you used Seymour's crush on you for your own purposes."
Billie stood up and faced the nurse. "Don't start blaming me for this. Is it my fault I'm the first woman round his age to treat this guy decently? Just because he can't figure out the difference between like, love, and common decency isn't my fault." She took a deep breath and turned away from Maggie's angry eyes.
"Also it's not my fault he does look like a ferret," Billie added.
Maggie lost her motherly indignation over the orderly and chuckled, causing the worry to vanish. "I know, but you don't have to refer to him that way. Suppose he overheard you talking about him that way? You'll ruin him for life with women."
"Maggie, I think I've already ruined him for women; I hugged him when he gave me the burgers." Billie looked at her friend, and the two women busted out laughing.
"You're hopeless," Maggie said.
"Maybe, but it was worth those burgers." Billie stretched and took a deep breath. "By the way, he's looking for you."
"Why?"
"Fe ... I mean, Seymour wants to do a supply run, and I told him you'd know what this place needs."
"So that's who you were talking with. Looks like that hug really did ruin him," chuckled Maggie.
"Yep. So, is everything ready?" asked Billie as she sat down in the chair that was in between the two beds and next to the blood transfusion machine.
Maggie crossed her arms as worry returned to her face. "Are you sure you want to do this? There are other people here on staff with his blood type. You're just asking for trouble by doing this."
"I'll be fine, Maggie," she smiled. "This will give me a legitimate excuse to leave this place for a while or claim a bed for a bit. Is the machine ready?"
"Yes, but—"
"But you still think this is a bad idea, so noted, Nurse." Billie removed her doctor's coat. She wore scrubs, so there was no need to roll up her shirtsleeve.
Maggie scowled. She hated when Billie pulled rank during these moments because it was the doctor's way of ending the discussion. "It'll just be a little prick," she said as she inserted the needle into Billie's left arm. Blood started flowing into the connecting tube as Maggie connected the patient to the machine then turned it on.
"I'll be back in a few to check on you," she said as she made her way to the door.
"Don't worry," Billie replied with a smile, "this guy won't let anything happen to me."
Billie waited for the door to close and sighed. "If you play your cards right, you may just get a roommate today, assuming you don't mind me as company." She removed her watch from her wrist and tossed it onto the bed closest to the door. A few seconds passed in silence. "I didn't think so."
Using her free right hand, she released her pony-tailed, shoulder-length black hair, then shook her head. She closed her eyes. Too tired to realize what she was doing, Billie began to sing Nina Simone's Come Ye and kept the beat by tapping her right hand against the chair's sidearm to pass the time. Halfway through the song, the door opened and two sets of footsteps entered.
"How are you doing, Doctor Vaughn?" Maggie announced as she positioned herself in front of the machine. Billie gave a low moan of despair because thanks to Maggie she knew who the other person was.
"Doctor Vaughn," Seymour said in his slightly nasal tenor voice, "I found Head Nurse Jones and will get the supplies including blood just like you requested." He stood right in front of Billie, oblivious to the tubes sticking out of her arm.
"Thank you, Seymour," Billie said. Maggie arched her eyebrow at the doctor.
"Is there—"
Maggie interrupted, "Seymour, can't you see that Doctor Vaughn is in no condition to go over inventory with you." The nurse moved from the transfusion machine to firmly place her hands on Seymour's shoulders. "This can all wait until tomorrow. Doctor Vaughn is no longer on call. Go ask Doctor Jin if there's anything else needed." She pushed the eager-to-please orderly out of the door and locked it.
"Thanks, Maggie. I appreciate it."
"Don't thank me yet; you still have to face Seymour when he returns with the supplies," Maggie replied as she walked back to her friend's side.
Billie groaned.
Maggie leaned over the machine. "Let's see how this is going. Hmm, everything seems to be going well, but I'm going to stick around just in case ... and to get an answer to a question."
"A question? I can promise an answer, but it might not be the one you want. Pull up a chair," smiled Billie.
The nurse moved a chair to face Billie. "Were you singing just before we came in?"
"Singing?" the doctor chuckled, "I guess so. It's an old habit; I sing to relax."
"Considering what we've been through recently, I'm surprised no one else has caught you doing this. You have a lovely voice."
"Thanks."
As several minutes passed. Maggie got out of her chair to monitor the procedure.
"Got any requests, Maggie?" Billie asked.
"What?"
"Is there a song you want to hear?"
Maggie smiled. "No."
"Wonder what I should choose?"
"How about a lullaby?"
"I thought you didn't have a request."
"I don't," Maggie turned off the machine, "but it's time for you to get some sleep, Doctor." She removed the transfusion tube from Billie's left arm and bandaged it.
"The procedure isn't over."
"Yes, it is. I got some people to donate blood earlier today and now Seymour is getting more blood, so you don't have to complete this procedure." Maggie replaced the empty blood bag with the full one she hid in her apron pocket then connected Billie's patient to it. "Now, get into bed."
The look on Maggie's cobalt blue eyes made Billie realize that her friend was not going to take no for an answer. Slowly she got out of the chair and walked towards the other bed in the room.
The head nurse turned down the blankets and helped the doctor into bed. "Wait a minute," she chided as she removed her friend's shoes. "Now, you're not to leave this room; understand?"
Billie yawned, "Yes."
"Good." Maggie walked to the door. "I'll lock the door so no one can enter," she said, as she turned off the overhead light then left.
Billie muttered, "Sweet dreams, Mr. E," then fell asleep.
"Billie, wake up. You're needed," urged Maggie as she shook the sleeping doctor.
"Wha?" Slowly sitting up, she asked, "How long was I out?"
"Six hours. I'm sorry I have to wake you, but Randy is on the phone. He says it's urgent."
"Six? Didn't I say wake me up in three."
Wrapping her arm around her sleepy friend's waist for support, Maggie replied, "No, you didn't. I wouldn't be waking you up at all if it weren't an emergency. Randy needs you; he's on the phone."
Billie squinted her eyes as they left the intensive care unit and walked down the florescent-lit hallway towards the Pit, the only area in the underground hospital that functioned as a nurse's station and doctor's office. Billie leaned heavily on the counter and picked up the phone receiver.
"This better be good, Randy."
Randy's tenor voice replied, "Argo is demanding to see you."
"Nice to know I'm wanted," she scoffed.
"Not funny, Billie. This time he's different, and it's a difference I don't think I'd survive. There's something in his eyes. Something that... he's threatening to cut my throat if you don't show soon."
"Where did you tell him I was?"
"In the shower."
"Good, that will buy me a little time. Tell the brute I'll be there in ten minutes. See ya soon." Billie hung up the phone and walked behind the counter towards the locker room. "Maggie, if Randy calls again tell him to put on music; music supposedly calms the savage beast, right? I'm going to have a quick rinse off; can't have the folks up in the bar learn what's happening down here."
Grabbing the front of the slight bartender's shirt, Argo demanded, "Where's Billie?"
Randy, trying to pry the brute's meaty hand off his shirt, replied, "She's coming. You know how women are: it takes forever for them to get ready. She'll be here as soon as she's done primping."
Argo Kuzmin was six feet three inches tall and pure nasty attitude. He dressed in military fatigues and maintained a military buzz cut for his black hair. Whether Argo was ever in the military, no one knew, but then everyone was too afraid to ask him.
Several people moved from their barstools to vacant tables for their own safety. The other patrons of the bar kept their distance. Partly because they were scared and didn't want to become that hulking drunk's new victim, and partly because they were tired of Argo's weekly fix to see the charming beauty who ran the place. She was the main reason they kept coming to the Camouflage Bar; the other reason was though the place looked like a dump the food was terrific.
"She don't primp," spat Argo. Randy felt a little faint thanks to the stench of stale whiskey on Argo's breath. Argo pulled Randy closer in hopes of finally scaring out of the bartender what he really wanted: Billie's home address. In a low growl, the drunk insisted, "Tell me where Billie is. I'll get her myself."
The only man who hadn't moved from his barstool was calmly drinking. This bald and black bearded man was new to the bar. Some thought the new guy stayed at the bar was because he thought Argo wasn't a threat; they were about the same size and build. Some thought it was because the new guy was ignoring the whole thing. Either way people didn't want to get close enough to the bar to advise the new guy to move for his own good.
The kitchen door creaked as it opened. Everyone, except the new guy, turned his head to see who was coming. Out walked a woman wearing a long sleeved, denim work shirt that was tied in a knot just below her breasts and black leather hip-hugger pants accentuating her hourglass figure. Her damp black hair was up in a loose bun with a few loose strands falling into ringlets around her face. Her lips wore a hint of pale pink lipstick, while the sparse black mascara didn't disguise the anger in her storm grey eyes. "Let go of him, Argo." Billie said as she walked behind the bar.
Argo released Randy. Many sighed with relief. The color returned to Randy's face as he walked past Billie straight to the kitchen. The new guy took a handful of pretzels.
She grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee. "Why are you raising hell in my bar? Lose another cargo run?" She passed one mug to Argo, then turned round to get some milk out of the mini-refrigerator to add to her coffee.
In a voice that was a cross between a man's moan of desire and a junkie's plea for a hit, Argo asked, "What took you so long?"
"I was in the shower. A woman needs to pamper herself once in a while, and a long, hot shower is one of the ways I do this."
Several of the patrons' eyes glazed over at the image of Billie in the shower.
Argo, however, wanted the real thing. "Don't do that again."
She stirred her coffee while adding the milk. "What? Don't shower? Trust me, everyone here will be sorry if I don't. My b.o. would stop everyone from coming here, and no amount of perfume, incense, or scented candles would help." The new guy smiled and signaled for a refill.
"You know why I'm here, Billie."
The new guy pointed to the El Presidente. Billie poured some for the new guy and replied, "You're here for the same reason everyone else is here, Argo: you want good food, good drink, and witty conversation." Some people chuckled under their breath at the remark. Billie returned to Argo.
He clenched his teeth. "That's not why and you know it."
"Obviously, I don't." Billie took a sip of her coffee and made a face. "Bitter, too bitter." She ducked under the bar to find some sugar, added a heaping spoonful then stirred.
"Quit playing around with me, woman." Argo seized the mug and lifted it to his mouth to drink.
The new guy noticed that while the hulking drunk was using his left hand to hold the coffee mug, he slipped his right hand into a pocket of his cargo pants.
Billie sipped her coffee and looked Argo straight in the eyes. "You come in here once or twice every week, drink several Rattlesnakes on top of whatever you've had before you get here, and expect me to be your personal servant, regardless of the fact that there are other customers or that I might have a day off from this place. I am not your personal property, Argo." She took another sip of coffee.
Argo sat silently and stared into his coffee. His grip tightened on the mug, causing it to tremble.
Billie went in to the kitchen and returned with a tray of cleaned beer glasses. She began to stack them behind the bar. Her back was to Argo. "Also I don't date customers; it's bad for business. If I did, the guy would think since he's dating me all his drinks and his friends' drinks are free, running up a helluvah tab. Then when we break up because he's a drunk or becomes a drunk, he'll refuses to pay. Like I said it's bad for business."
Argo's body shook with fury. "No one has ever spoken to me that way and lived. Not even a beauty like you, Billie." As he started to pull out what was hidden in his cargo pants pocket, Argo felt the muzzle of a gun on his right temple.
"I suggest you let me have that," said the new guy.
Billie turned around to see Argo hand the new guy a gun. The sight stunned her.
The new guy moved Argo's gun out of harm's way as he got up from his stool. "Now get up and walk with me." He slid the muzzle of his West-German Walther P99 to the back of Argo's head to insure Argo's compliance as he moved behind Argo.
Argo did as he was told. The two men walked towards the door.
The other patrons watched dumbfounded. No one thought Argo would have been crazy enough to pull a gun on Billie; then again no one thought anyone would be brave enough, or dumb enough, to stop Argo if he did.
When they reached the door, the new guy said, "Open it slowly. If you try anything, this will be you're last visit." He cocked the trigger to prove he'd make good on his word.
"Wait a sec," said Billie. She grabbed her camera she hid under the counter and ran out from behind the bar. Billie looked through the lens and focused on Argo's face. "Smile for the camera, Argo." Everyone knew what that meant: Argo was banned from the Camouflage Bar now.
The new guy pushed Argo out the door then locked the door to insure Argo wouldn't try to re-enter the place. He stood behind the closed door with his gun clearly in sight to make sure Argo understood his presence wasn't wanted. Once he was sure Argo wasn't going to return, he unlocked the door. As he returned to his stool, the other patrons broke out in applause and cheers. Some went up to the bar to shake the new guy's hand.
Billie went behind the bar and put her camera away. "I'd like to know the name of the man that just saved my life," she said as she poured herself a drink.
"Jet Black."
"Well, Jet Black," she raised her mug, "thank you for not only saving my life but for taking care of a thorn in my side." She took a swig then removed Argo's gun from the bar.
Jet sipped his drink, then remarked, "You know he'll be back."
"Yep, but I'll worry about that another day. Right now, I'm more interested in the story behind this" She gently traced the scar that vertically bisected Jet's right eye.
Jet smiled. "Bartenders don't learn that story on my first visit."
She laughed. "Fair enough. By the way, call me Billie; everyone does." While topping of Jet's drink, Billie called, "Randy, it's safe to come out now. Argo is gone for good."
The slight bartender from before poked his out the kitchen door. "Really?"
"Really. His picture will join the others on the 'banned for life' wall. This man took care of Argo."
Randy, a slight but wiry man with a mop of blonde hair, sat down next to Jet. "Thanks," he said as he shook Jet's hand. "Today was the worst I'd ever seen that behemoth. He's never been this aggressive when asking about Billie."
"Maybe it was that time of the month for him," Billie commented.
"If it was only that simple for men," Randy replied, "I think he had an itch that needed scratching. What do you think, Jet?"
"About what?"
"About why Argo acted the way he did."
"Leave Jet alone," Billie interjected, "he's had more than enough to deal with today. I don't need you scaring him off with your inquiring mind."
Randy rebuked, "When was asking a question a scare tactic?"
She replied, "It depends on who's asking the question."
Jet smiled. Billie's answer reminded him of his comrade Spike, the guy he was looking for.
Randy gave her a dirty look then hopped off the stool to check on the patrons at the tables behind them.
"Would you like some more?" she asked as she reached for El Presidente.
"No thanks," answered Jet as he stood up and reached for his wallet. "What do I owe you?"
"Nothing. By the way, the next time you come, you'll have a meal on the house. It's the least I can do to repay what you did."
Jet didn't know what to say, so he nodded his head. He walked out of bar and headed back toward the Bebop. The street was bustling with shoppers, three-card Monty dealers, and sidewalk vendors. As he walked, Jet noticed a few kids were following him. They were no older than eleven. The tall one seemed to be the leader and signaled to the other boys to walk on either side of Jet. Being a former cop, Jet knew what these kids were up to: they were going to pick his pocket. To avoid the attempt, he ducked into a pet store and watched the kids keep walking. While in there, he looked at a couple of Welsh Corgies dogs then left. As he got closer to the dock where his ship the Bebop was, Jet stopped off at a grocery stores and bought some food. He just hoped that the ship's other occupant, Faye Valentine, wouldn't eat all the food before he had some.
Jet boarded the Bebop and was relieved to find Faye was out. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her or her bottomless pit of a stomach. The visit to the Camouflage Bar gave him enough to think about. Jet put the perishables in the refrigerator in the kitchen where Faye couldn't find them then walked to his sanctuary on the ship: his bonsai room. Thinking about how the small trees should look always helped Jet focus his thoughts. After carefully studying and trimming a bonsai for an hour, he was ready to work with what he's learned.
According to his connection in the Mars division of the Inter-Solar System Police (ISSP), it was rumored that due to conflicting interests within the Red Dragon Syndicate, one of their generals created a hospital for his own safety, but no one knew where it was. The few undercover agents that tried to learn its location ended up dead. However, one of these doomed agents was able to send the word "camouflage" before meeting his end. No one exactly knew what the guy meant by it, especially since it was obvious to many in the ISSP that the hospital wouldn't be out in the open for all to see.
The Camouflage Bar was a dive within walking distance the docks that was frequented by locals, cargo haulers, and bounty hunters. From his visit, Jet didn't learn much about the place. The bar itself was what you'd expect from a dive: a bar counter and furniture that shows its age from years of abuse, a couple of pool tables, a few dartboards, and a clientele that lived in the bar in hope. The bartender and the owner, however, were a little more interesting. Randy seemed out of place: clean cut, manicured nails, nice clothes like a satin shirt, a little flirty with the customers, and a coward when confronted by a drunk patron. Not what you'd expect to find behind the bar. Billie, on the other hand, was exactly what you expect: a no-nonsense woman who doesn't back away from a fight or allow a fight to happen while she was around. Jet was willing to bet that she also flirted just enough with her customers to make them glad they came by but not enough for them to believe they had a chance with her. He certainly was impressed with how she handled Argo. Not many women, or men for that matter, would have been brave enough to joke with a belligerent drunk. Then again, from what she said, Billie had practice dealing with Argo, that is, until today. The look on her face when she saw the gun told Jet that she never expected Argo to do something like that. Jet made a mental note to keep an eye out for Argo on his next visit to the bar.
Jet sat in front of his computer and started his search for information on Billie and Randy when a vid window popped up.
"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Bebop!" said the little redheaded girl.
"Ed? What have you been up to?"
"Teaching chess to Empu." Ein, a Welsh Corgie, barked in the background.
"Empu?
"
"Ed's friend."
"Why is that name familiar?" asked Jet, then he realized where he heard that name before. "Ed, isn't that the name of–"
"Ed sees your searching for bountyheads," Ed interrupted.
"What?" Jet shook his head. "Ed, don't you know it's not nice to put a trace on your friends' computer to see what they're doing."
Ed just laughed. "Ed can help."
"I don't have much to go on, Ed, so search for information about a man named Randy. He's 5'8" and has blonde hair. A woman named Billie; she's 5'7, black hair and grey eyes. She owns the Camouflage Bar in New Arcadia on Mars."
"Okey dokey!" said Ed as she saluted and signed off.
"Wait!" Jet shouted then groaned and wondered how long it will take Ed to find information. All he could do now was wait. Jet pulled a cigarette out of his vest pocket and lit it. "Kids," he muttered.
Just then the door leading to the cargo bay corridor slid opened; Faye was home. "Find Spike yet, Jet?"
"No," he lied. He didn't see the point in getting her hopes up.
Faye flopped onto the yellow sofa. "If I had only gotten there sooner, we'd know where Spike is."
"You don't know that, Faye. If you got there sooner, you could have been killed."
"Maybe, but I do know Spike is dead."
"We don't know that." Jet took a long drag on his cigarette.
Faye sat up and looked Jet straight in the eyes. "I saw Vicious' body getting taken away. He's not the kind of guy that would have let Spike walk away, so Spike is dead."
Jet returned the look. "Have you seen Spike's body?"
"No."
"Then we don't know if he's dead. No body means Spike might be alive."
"You believe what you want, Jet, but I know what Vicious is capable of. Spike couldn't have survived." With that said, Faye got up and walked away.
Jet was in the kitchen making bell peppers and beef (minus the beef) when he heard Ed's voice.
"Jet-person! Ed calling!"
Jet turned off the flame and ran to the screen in the common room. He was greeted by Ed's big goofy grin that had taken over the screen. "Ed, what did you find?"
"Ed found lots of things." She held up an old Gameboy Advance, then placed a disheveled cowboy hat on her head, then held up a box of piyokos. "Ed loves piyokos!" The little redhead girl opened the box then stuffed a piyoko into her mouth. Ed giggled with delight as she tossed one to Ein.
"That's nice, Ed, but did you find any information on those people I described to you?"
Ed's torso started to rotate and she said, "vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrroom," as the sugar from the piyoko just kicked in. Then she stopped suddenly and hit a key on her keyboard. A data screen with Randy's arrest record and mug shot popped opened on Jet's monitor. Ed started reading aloud in what she thought was an upper class accent what she found. "Alexander 'Randy' Vanderhorn was arrested for smuggling artifacts stolen from the Europa Capital Museum, which the Europa government thought were lost for good. He was also disowned by his family and cut off from the Vanderhorn family fortune, but it doesn't say why." Another data screen popped open. "Doctor Billie Ella Vaughn graduated Deimos University School of Medicine summa cum laude with a specialties in surgery and venoms and poisons. Several big Mars hospitals were fighting over her, but she vanished. Scary!"
Jet learned about Randy's arrest from his own search, but Billie's degree was new. "Have any luck with the Camouflage Bar?"
"Ed still working on that. Lots of encryptions on it."
"That makes sense, if the place is what I think it is."
"What is it? Tell Ed."
"A place where you can get a good drink, good food, and a smile," he replied as the image of Billie refilling his drink crossed his mind's eye.
"Huh? Would Ed like it there?"
"Maybe ... I don't know, Ah never mind, Ed. Thanks for the information. Why don't you call back when you've got something on the Camouflage Bar."
"Camouflage Bar; camouflage car. Will do." Ed signed off.
"Was that Ed?" Faye asked from behind Jet.
Jet turned around to see Faye eating the bell peppers and beef he made. "Damn it, Faye, can't you cook for yourself?"
"Why should I when you leave cooked food for anyone to take?" She stuffed another forkful into her mouth.
Instead of getting into a fight with Faye over her eating habits, Jet answered her original question, "Yes, that was Ed. She's doing some research for me."
"Related to a bounty or Spike?"
"A bounty," he lied. "Spike would consider them small fry and not bother with them. Their combined worth is under a few thousand woo long."
Faye maneuvered her slim frame between Jet and the screen for a better look. "What they do? Knock over a candy store?" Faye moved away from the screen and placed the empty plate on the coffee table. "They're all yours, Jet. Call me when you learn anything about Spike." She headed towards her room.
Relieved that Faye left, Jet was able to study the information Ed sent him. Faye was right about one thing: Randy and Billie looked too clean cut to be bountyheads. However, if Faye really looked at the files on the screen, she could have figured out these two might be smuggling medical supplies. But then Jet knew Faye wasn't acting like herself. Hell, Jet knew he wasn't acting like himself. How could they? They were hurting. Their friend Spike was missing because he went off to settle the score with a psychopath from his past in the Red Dragon Syndicate called Vicious. Though he knew Spike for the past three years, neither man told the other about his past. It just wasn't their way. Now Jet hoped they might have the chance to rectify this.
Jet understood why Spike went. If the roles were reversed, Jet knew he would have done the same thing. It was hard to spend your time running from your past sins and wondering about the woman who changed your life only to find her and lose her in the same instance. The only thing left for a man to do was to stop running and confront his past.
Jet consulted an acquaintance of Spike's, a Native American chief called Sitting Bull. He said it was Spike's time, but Jet refused to believe the old chief. Jet believed, he wanted and needed to believe, that Spike had a greater will to live than to let himself die by Vicious' hand. He always thought of Spike as a survivor and refused to think that Spike would give up because Julia was gone. From the description Spike gave of Julia ("There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. That's what I believed. She was a piece of me I had lost. She is my other half that I had longed for."1), Jet thought Julia would want Spike to live also, but who knew what a grieving man thought.
The ex-cop shook his head to clear his thoughts to concentrate on the information in front of him. He read Randy and Billie's files over several times. Randy was easy to figure out: he was the black sheep of the Vanderhorn family and the family couldn't take him anymore so they kicked him out. Because the money stopped, Randy fell on hard times and all he could manage was a bartending job. Billie, however, was a mystery.
"Why would a young woman with such a promising future give it up for a dive?" Jet muttered. He believed his answer was connected to the Camouflage Bar.
Faye stood outside her room, but she didn't want to go in. The videotape of her younger self was there, and she knew she'd destroy it if she walked in because that life didn't exist for her anymore. That life went on without her. She kicked the door then headed towards an exit to get some air.
Once outside, the chill of the oncoming night air didn't change her mood. Faye started walking, not caring where her feet took her. Jet's blind optimism about Spike being alive was more than she could handle. Jet never had the dubious pleasure of meeting Vicious. He never looked into those cold grey eyes. Faye shuddered at the memory. She picked up her pace as if that would help her to outrun the memory.
The streetlights turned on, illuminating closing storefronts. The hustle and bustle of the evening made no imprint on Faye. To her, these people were all trying to get to where they belonged. Faye knew where she belonged now, but she was questioning if Jet knew where he belonged.
"Men are such idiots," she muttered to herself as she tried to kick a stray soda can but kicked a streetlamp instead. "Ow!" she screamed. She leaned on the damned lamppost so she could rub her foot and see if she ruined her shoe.
"Are you all right?" asked a tenor voice.
Faye picked up her head to see a blonde haired, wiry man wearing a green silk button down shirt, black jeans and black loafers looking at her. "Yes," she replied.
"If you say so, but my place is just a little farther. I could help you get there," Randy remarked.
Faye gave Randy a dirty look, but before Faye could speak he held up his hands as if to fend off an attack and said, "The place where I work, not live. I'm not trying to picking you up figuratively; I'm trying to pick you up literally, so you won't hurt your foot while walking."
She smiled at Randy's successful save. "How far is it to your place?"
He scooped Faye up in his arms like she was a princess. "Like I said, it's not far." Randy carried Faye for a block and knocked on the Camouflage Bar's door. A tall, dark mocha-skinned, muscular man opened the door. Randy walked straight to the bar and placed Faye on a stool. He went behind the bar, grabbed a clean dishtowel and filled it with ice. "Here, this is for your foot," Randy said as he passed the ice-filled towel to Faye.
"Thanks." Faye removed her shoe and placed the cold compress on the ball of her foot. She winced at the cold.
The kitchen doors swung open. Billie walked out carrying a tray laden with food precariously balanced on one hand. She made her way to a table with three old men and rested the serving tray on part of the table. "Okay, the steak burger with lettuce, tomato, onions, and a side of fries for Jobin." She placed the meal in front of the old man in a baseball cap. "The turkey club with cranberry sauce and a side of onion rings for Carlos." Billie placed the plate in front of the old man in the straw hat. "And last but not least, a Caesar salad for Antonio." She leaned over the table and placed the salad in front of the salivating old man with a mustache wearing a pale yellow shirt. At that moment Jobin and Carlos hated Antonio because of his view down Billie's shirt.
Antonio's jaw slackened as he hoarsely said, "Thank you, Billie."
She smiled at Antonio. "You're welcome. Enjoy, guys," Billie said as she turned to return the tray to the kitchen.
Faye didn't bother looking up the first time the kitchen doors opened, but she looked this time as Billie walked through them. She watched Billie go behind the bar and give Randy a hug. There was something familiar about her.
"I thought you went out to do some shopping?" Billie asked.
"I did, but I got sidetracked," he replied and pointed at Faye.
Billie faced Faye and noticed her icing her foot. "Hello. What did you do to your foot? Is it serious?" she asked as she leaned over the bar for a better look.
"It's nothing. I banged it on a streetlight."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Faye replied in a slightly annoyed tone.
"Relax, it was just a question," Randy said, "Billie was just asking because she was concerned."
Something clicked in Faye's mind: that woman is the one Jet was looking at on the screen.
"By the way, the name's Randy; and your is?"
"Faye." She couldn't believe her luck. What were the odds of stumbling onto two bountyheads without even trying? They may be worth chump change, Faye thought, but she should hit a casino with the reward money, hoping this luck was last.
The man who opened the door for Randy sat two stools down from Faye to keep an eye on her. His instincts were telling him she was trouble.
Billie walked over to him. "The usual, Biko?"
A smile softened his severe demeanor. "Yes, please, Billie," he replied in his deep bass voice.
"Big, strong, and polite? That's a rare combination to find in a man," Faye commented.
"Not as rare as you might think, Faye," responded Randy as he walked over to a table to take an order.
"Oh, really?"
Billie said, "Really." She served Biko his usual: a club soda with freshly squeezed limejuice. "There are plenty of polite men in the world. It's just a matter of meeting them. From the sound of it, you haven't met enough."
Randy went into the kitchen to place the order.
Faye put on her shoe. "Maybe I should hang around you, Billie, since you seem to be the expert." She stood up and feigned pain in her foot. "Damn! Maybe I didn't just bruise it."
Billie sat on the bar, swung her legs around to the other side, and slipped off. "Faye, take off your shoe, so I –" She was cut off by the Austrian Glock 30 muzzle to her forehead.
"Now be a good little bountyhead and put your hands on the stool in front of you," Faye said as she slid the muzzle to the back of Billie's head to insure Billie's compliance and moved behind Billie. "Don't move, big guy, or she gets it."
Biko scowled and sat like a cobra waiting for his chance to strike.
Billie muttered, "Twice in one day."
"What did you say?" Faye asked.
"I said, 'Twice in one day.' You're the second person to come after me with a gun; the first guy didn't get a chance to draw his gun though."
Faye pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her inside jacket pocket and slapped one cuff on Billie's wrist. "Don't try anything and put your hands behind your back." Billie did as she was told.
"Miss, what did Billie do?" asked Antonio.
Billie smiled impishly. "I didn't pay my tab at a restaurant, so she came to collect." Faye secured the other cuff.
The three old men turned crimson because they hadn't paid their tab at the Camouflage Bar for the past two months.
"Now that I have you, I can come back for Randy."
"Are you sure about that?" Randy whispered in Faye's ear as he placed a knife to her throat.
"Cut me and I'll shoot her," Faye said coolly.
He smiled at her bravado. "Bountyheads are worthless if they're dead, so I know you won't shoot Billie." She was pissed he called her bluff and won.
Biko removed the gun from Faye's hand, then emptied it of its bullets. "Where's the key to the cuffs?" he asked.
Faye grinned evilly. "Where do you think?"
Biko groaned.
"Smart move, but do you honestly think that would stop me from getting them?" inquired Randy as he put his free hand down Faye's shirt to find the key.
"Hey!" Faye yelped.
Randy removed his hand and tossed the key to Biko. "Sorry about the cold hand."
Biko released Billie, placed the cuffs on Faye then leaned over the bar to place a call.
Billie rubbed her wrists. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She walked behind the bar.
Randy removed the knife from Faye's neck. Faye slumped on to the stool next to her. Biko hung up the phone and watched the door.
"There's a bounty on your heads, and I need the money," Faye said matter-of-factly.
"Really? For what?" asked Randy as he sat down next to her.
"I don't know."
"You don't know? What kind of bounty hunter are you?" roared Billie. She picked up her camera and focused it. "You should be grateful this is all I'm doing to you. Now smile for the camera." The shutter clicked. "This will go next to Argo's picture."
Randy arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit drastic?"
"Would you want the person who put a gun to your head for no reason to be allowed back?" She took the camera to her office to print out the new additions to the Banned for Life wall.
Randy knew there was no point in arguing, especially since he saw Billie's point. He turned to Faye. "Is there anything I can do to make your wait more comfortable?"
"You can remove these handcuffs," she replied.
He smiled. "Nice try."
Faye turned to face Randy. "How were you able to sneak up on me?"
"No shoes," he said as he raised one foot, "and a squeak-free door and floor. I was ready to return with an order when I saw you pull the gun on Billie. I removed my shoes and grabbed a knife." He placed the knife of the bar top.
"You'd think a place like this would have one squeaky floorboard." Faye was mortified; a pair of socks and dumb luck beat her.
"We have squeaky boards, just not by the bar. So what's a nice girl like you doing in a rough profession like bounty hunting?"
Faye couldn't help but laugh at the question. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
"Life couldn't be that bad for you."
The door to the bar opened, and a baby-faced man wearing a grey linen suit walked in. "Biko, you said you apprehended a troublemaker?" asked police detective Booker.
Biko got up to greet him. "She's over at the bar with Randy. You're here rather fast."
"I was headed over here to grab some dinner when I got the call."
They walked over to where Randy and Faye sat. "She pulled this," Biko handed Booker the Austrian Glock 30, "on Billie because there's a bounty on her head."
"You're not pulling any punches with this baby, are you lady?" Booker admired the piece. "Nice, but where's the ammo?" Biko handed it over to Booker. "Thanks. By the way, I've checked: there are no bounties out for Billie or Randy. Whoever told you that they were is smoking the wacky tobaccy too much." He slid Faye's gun into the back of his pants.
Billie returned from her office holding two photographs when she noticed the detective.
"Booker!" she said. She placed the photos on the bar and hugged him. "So, Biko called you in, huh?"
He returned the hug. "Like I told him, I just happened to be in the neighborhood when the call came in. Are you pressing charges?"
Jet groaned. Another old contact had no information for him about the Camouflage Bar. He collapsed onto the yellow couch and rubbed his eyes. "That's the sixth one. At this rate I'll be calling in all my old debts with nothing to show for it. Hope Ed is having better luck than I am."
A vid window popped opened on the screen.
"Jet Black?" asked Booker. "Are you there, Mr. Black? This is the Mars Police."
Jet sat up and turned the screen towards him. "What did Faye do?"
"How did you know this is about Miss. Valentine?"
"I haven't done anything to warrant the Mars Police's attention."
"Miss. Valentine walked into a bar, believing that the owner and bartender had prices on their heads. Know where she got this idea?"
Jet replied, "I don't know and have no opinion."
"Figured as much." Booker chuckled. "Come down to the 29th Precinct on the corner of Broadway and Houston."
"How much will it take to pay her bail?"
"She's being arraigned in an hour. You'll find out then."
"Why can't that woman leave anything alone?" Jet muttered to himself as Faye's case was called.
A tall, bald, gangly looking bailiff announced, "Docket number 3094683: the People versus Faye Valentine. Her charges are assault with a deadly weapon, false imprisonment, and reckless endangerment."
"How do you plea?" asked the portly judge.
Faye proclaimed, "Innocent. I was given rotten information. I-"
The judge interrupted, "I'll take that as a not guilty." He swings his hammer down. "Bail is set at 60,000 woolongs."
"I ... I ... don't have that sort of money," sputtered Faye. "I could kill him."
The judge arched his eyebrow. "Bailiff, take that woman into custody. She just made a death threat.
"What?!?!"
Jet spoke up. "You honor, I know Miss Valentine doesn't mean what she said." He shot Faye a stern look and hoped she understood to keep her mouth shut. "She was just shocked by the day's events."
"Is this true?" the judge asked.
In her sweetest voice, Faye replied, "Yes, your honor."
Reluctantly the judge said, "Miss Valentine is free to go once her bail has been paid."
Jet left the courtroom and headed to the clerk's office when he sensed someone behind him.
"Mr. Black," Booker said, "I'm impressed with how you handled the situation in the courtroom."
"I'm an old dog when it comes to the courtroom, Detective Booker."
"So your ISSP record says."
Jet stopped in his tracks.
"After what happened at the Camouflage Bar, I thought I should run a check on the two of you. Impressive record you have there."
"That was another life."
"So I can see," chuckled Booker. "I would have thought that a man with your experience would have better taste in a partner."
Jet looked thunderstruck. "Partner?"
Booker was pleased that he caught Jet off guard. "Yeah, your partner. Why else would you be bailing out Miss. Valentine?"
"She's not my partner. My partner is ... "Jet couldn't finish the sentence. If he did, then he would be admitting Faye was right and Spike was dead.
Intrigued, Booker asked, "If she's not your professional partner, then is she your partner in another capacity?"
"No! Faye is just a friend."
"Who happens to live with you."
"What's your point?" asked the former ISSP detective with a slight snarl in his voice. He wondered what Booker was trying to learn with all his questions.
"My point," said Booker, "is either Miss Valentine is one helluvah friend to you or you feel responsible. I'm just trying to figure out which it is."
"Faye happens to owe me money, and the only way I'll get my money back is if she's out of jail doing her job." Jet didn't wait for a response from Booker and started walking towards the Clerk's office.
Booker didn't mind. His little conversation with Jet gave him all the information he wanted and planned to use, if necessary, some time in the future.
An hour later, Jet and Faye left the police station. As they walked out, Jet asked, "You okay?"
Faye snarled, "What do you think?" Jet knew he was in trouble.
"I've just spent the past four hours in jail because of your wrong information."
"I never told you to go after them."
"Since when did I need your permission to hunt bountyheads?"
Jet turned to face Faye. "You think with what happened to you when you went after Mao Yen Rai you'd think twice about chasing people I'm in the middle of investigating."
Faye froze in her tracks for a moment; Jet's words had their desired affect. He didn't know what happened to her, but he knew the experience left its mark on Faye.
To Jet, that experience was the beginning of the end: the end of everyday same old same old, the end of common sense on the Bebop, the end of ...
Another thought he couldn't finish. Jet knew that was the beginning was of many things that bothered him about this situation. A part of him wanted to blame Faye. He knew that was wrong, but he couldn't help it. If she hadn't run off and got caught, maybe Spike would have asked Jet to back him up when he finally faced Vicious. Spike should have listened to him:
Vicious. Julia. To me, those names sound ominous like a magic spell that unlocks an old door ... a door that should stay closed.2
However, from what Jet learned about the Red Dragons and from how Faye described Julia, he knew that door could never have stayed closed. Those were the sorts of things that haunted a man for the rest of his life. A part of Jet hated Spike for not being able to escape his past. He hated Spike for that because Jet realized when he had spoken with Alisa again that there are some parts of your life you can't close the door on until you truly know you can lose the key to that door.
Faye's voice broke into Jet's reflections. "Jet, are you listening to me?"
"Is there a reason I should?" Jet retorted.
Faye stormed off ahead, furious, but she wasn't sure what annoyed her more: Jet's bad info and its resulting incarceration or Jet's silent act and his annoyed response. "Where did he get off being angry? I'm the one who went to jail," she muttered. Faye didn't pay attention to the people she propelled herself through to reach the Bebop. When she got inside, Faye realized why Jet was investigating those nothings and waited, patiently, for Jet to return.
1 Quote from the dubbed version of Cowboy Bebop Session #25 – the Real Folk Blues Part 1
2 Quote from the dubbed version of Cowboy Bebop Session #25 – the Real Folk Blues Part 1
