THIRTY-FIVE: oddly like wranglers

In the dark of night, the Redtail sped over the desert. Faye Valentine leaned over the controls, puffing on a cigarette as she scanned the horizon with her infrared sensors. She was still thinking about Ed and her short conversation with the girl when she warned her that Jet was going to be angry. Well, damnit, Faye didn't give a shit.

God damnit! Can't a girl get some fucking privacy? If Jet wants something done, he can do it himself.

Faye was sick and tired of being his damn errand girl. Screw Jet. She had better things to do, after all. Like finding Vash the Stampede.

Lady Luck had scored again earlier in the day, when she snuck out. Spike had been sleeping and Ed was lost in her own private cyberspace. Jet was working his tail off trying to fix up the Bebop, but what the hell did he think she was trying to do out here? They needed money and she was the only one doing anything about getting some.

She ground the butt of her cigarette out against the steering wheel, tossing it into the back of the ship. Her stomach tossed and turned but she had begun to suspect it wasn't hunger when a small flicker appeared on the dark red glass of her infrared sensor. Frowning, she turned her ship toward the strange little blip. What the hell is that? she thought as she approached what appeared to be the ruins of a large city. As the Redtail slipped past the remnants of a tall building, she knew she was looking at a place that just didn't fit with what she knew about the people of Gunsmoke.

Leaning forward, Faye took the initiative to explore.

As she looked for a place to land, she wondered just what the hell was going down on this miserable excuse for a planet.

Quinn chose what he called the City of Yesterday as a training ground for his genetically altered army because it was nonexistent as far as the general population was concerned. After all, it lay two thousand iles away from the fringe settlements. The only thing of worry that lay closer was the Millennium Arc and the underground lake, and at the moment he was concerned with neither. He preferred to consider true threats before he would ever worry about his lesser troubles. The one threat he thought about a lot of these days was a threat that his prestigious team had failed to locate. Vash the Stampede was still out there somewhere. Where, they didn't know, and that pissed the hell out of Quinn.

As he reached the balcony overlooking the training field, Quinn was joined by Morgante and Ariel.

"Starks radioed," Morgante announced as he walked with his leader to the ledge of the balcony. Together they peered at the army, bathed in the spotlights that lined the expansive building.

"Oh he did?" Quinn said nonchalantly. He seemed quite uninterested, and unless there was good news, he really didn't want to hear it. It was too early for bad news.

"The Alpha Sample has been recovered."

"Oh really?" The old man lifted his brow. "That is good news."

"Indeed," Morgante replied.

"He was with Vash the Stampede?"

"No." The big man lowered his eyes, no doubt disappointed to have to reveal that much. They had anticipated capturing both men at the same time. "They have one of his young friends, though. They are taking them to the Millennium Arc."

"Your daughter?"

Morgante grunted. "Her partner."

Quinn smirked at the younger man's disappointment. "It will be all right, my friend. Vash is only a temporary setback, just like Knives."

He leaned out over the ledge to peer down to his army. The compound in which they stood was a vast, open arena, so expansive that it could encompass five Roman Coliseums. Standing there, on the bare field, were tens of thousands of genetically altered plant-spawn, each born of a piece of flesh of Vash the Stampede, or a clone of him. None were younger than ten years old, none older than twenty.

Quinn felt Ariel at his side, peering down on the army with a sense of satisfaction. He didn't blame her. After all, she was the one who led this army into battle. So long, at least, as there was a battle to lead. The slender woman lifted her jaw, casting a sidelong glance to Quinn. Those piercing emerald eyes scanned all before her with a cold, calculating intensity.

He clasped his arms behind his back, shifting his almond gaze to her. "I'm impressed. Are they as sharp as they look?"

"Sharper."

"So we can make our move."

Ariel smirked. Her long braid was swept by the wind.

"We can be ready at daybreak."

Quinn arched his brow.

"Excellent. Then get them ready."

"Holy shit," Faye murmured as she stumbled back. Her infrared goggles slipped to the ground and shattered on the marble steps. She slipped deeper into the shadows of the building seating, shaking with undeniable fear.

Those soldiers. There was something about them, and it struck an undeniable chord with the young woman. They all looked so familiar. Each and every one of them. And Faye knew why. They were all identical, standing the same height, with the same build. Thin and athletic. She was certain that if they were wearing that same old brown poncho or the same black outfit, they would all look identical—well, close—to Vash and Stryker. One difference was the hair and the thin black strips that covered their eyes.

It couldn't be. It was a ridiculous notion.

At the same time, it all made sense. At least, it seemed to explain the existence of two of them. Vash and Stryker.

Admittedly, Faye was no rocket scientist, but she could have quite a vivid imagination if she wanted to. Her one question: was it all possible? There was no indication that any of these people had the ability to do the odd things that she was imagining right now. A genetically enhanced army, created from a single individual? It seemed the type of thing nerds wrote about in their science fiction stories. This was impossible. There was no way any of this could be true.

Yet there was no doubt about it. The evidence was right before her eyes.

It had to be. There was no other explanation. It would at least explain how there were two of them, though she had assumed they were twins.

She picked up her radio and attempted to dial the Bebop. After a few moments, she cursed and nearly threw the thing. Absolutely nothing. Not even static. She shoved the damn thing back into the case at her hip and grabbed for her sidearm. She was going to have to get back to the Redtail. At this point, she had no other choice. If she was going to let the others know what she'd seen, she'd have to tell them in person.

Quickly, she backtracked until she reached the stairs and peered down into the darkness with her infrared goggles. Nothing. Faye worked her way down, poised to face whatever danger might meet her down here. Luckily, she had no trouble on the stairs. Soon she found the main hallway and raced back toward the exit. If she could get out of here and back to the building across the compound, where she had hidden the Redtail, then she could get the hell out of here.

She ran as quickly and quietly as she could down the dark hallway, using the infrared goggles to pick the best path and watch for any threats that might come her way. It was the same as when she had gone off to find Mao, she realized. She had gone after a big bounty, laid squarely on the head of the leader of the Red Dragon syndicate. In the end, she had found herself at the mercy of the viper's jaws, Vicious. A man who, as far as she could tell, was Spike's nemesis.

Spike had saved her ass back then, as much as she hated to admit it. He was a ruthless, determined bastard, hell-bent on beating Vicious, but he had come. His presence that day saved her life. Even if that moment hadn't centered around her own life, she felt somewhat closer to the man, even if it were a one-sided emotion.

She wouldn't let him know how she felt, anyway.

Outside, she raced across the street to the building where she had left her ship. She didn't see anyone as she slipped inside the building, dashed up the flight of stairs, three stories up, to the rooftop where she had landed. Escape was all that crossed her mind..

She came to a dead stop right there. Two sets of eyes turned slowly toward her. Men, dressed in black, both looking oddly like wranglers.

The man closest to her froze in place. She could see the whites of his eyes with the help of her the infrared goggles. "Hey! It's her!"

"Get her!" a third man shouted, blocked from her behind the aft of her own ship.

"You! Hold it right—"

Faye turned tail and shot back down the stairs. She could hear the three of them following her. The world around her was a blur as she leapt down the last six or seven steps, going into a violent roll at the bottom of the steps. When she banged her shin on the last step, she let out a cry of pain but found her footing quickly and ran outside. The men were only a few paces behind her.

"Hey! Stop!" one man shouted.

A gunshot echoed across the dark city. Faye cried out again, but she was unscathed. She ran away from the large building, heading for smaller buildings nearby. She barely had time to notice that all of these buildings appeared to be made of marble, and that few had sustained much damage at all. All she could think about were the men following her. A thousand terrible thoughts raced through her mind, all fueled by the unrelenting horror of what they would do when they caught her.

She darted down a dark alley and soon slipped into the silence of a small building. Her heart pounding in her ears, Faye immediately started to search for another door, a window, anything that could possibly lead her to another hiding place. She'd run from people who wanted something from her before. She was actually pretty good at it. Hell, she'd had plenty of experience.

After a quick investigation, she found a small window barely large enough to squeeze through. Considering her options, Faye tried the radio again.

Nothing.

She was on her own.

She drew a deep breath and started to shimmy out the window. Cringing, Faye realized just how tight of a fit it was going to be. She would fit, but only because she had been suffered from a lack of food back at the Bebop. With a groan, she paused, shaking her head.

"What a crock."

She heard a rush of air at her side. For a brief instant, Faye caught sight of something long and narrow coming at her face. The scantily-clad bounty hunter could only shout out in surprise. Her yell cracked into a quiet cry of surprise. Whatever it was struck her face in that same instant, and Faye's world went black.

"An intruder," Ariel replied as she guided Quinn down into the depths of his private coliseum, to the dungeon where the ruler of this land before man had come had once trained his version of gladiators. The two of them were flanked by Ariel's personal guards, who followed her everywhere she went, if she asked them to.

"Did she send word of our little operation?"

"She had this, but it is broken." Quinn took the devise, inspecting it with a grim frown. "I believe it to be a radio transmitter of some sort."

The old man nodded. "Yes. Good. You're sure she didn't send a message?"

"It's been broken for some time," Ariel replied. "Your plans are quite safe."

Quinn nodded. He agreed with her. And even if the bitch had reached someone on the outside, they would never have time to decipher whatever information they had received and deliver significant warning of the mysterious, genetically enhanced army. No one would be able to figure out what blueprint Quinn had used to construct his masterpiece. He still held the people of Gunsmoke firmly in his iron grip.

"And what does she know?"

"She suspects something, but I am unclear as to what she truly knows. It is difficult to say, really." Ariel glanced to him. "I suspect I can get more information from her if I can have a few quiet moments with her."

Quinn smirked. "Ah yes. I suspected as much."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Whatever she might know, I believe she is confused. All this is new information to her."

"Such as?"

"I don't believe she knows much about Vash the Stampede."

Quinn paused. "No one knows the whole truth. Not even me."

"No, I mean I don't believe she knew much of anything more than a week ago, and that includes the name. She's a bounty hunter and cocky as hell. That's about as much as I can determine about her."

"Odd. A bounty hunter who doesn't know who Vash the Stampede is."

"That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you."

Quinn scratched his chin, pausing in the dark corridor. "Hmmm. That is very intriguing."

"Glad you think so, sir."

"What does she look like?"

"A slut," Ariel replied without hesitation. He gave her a look. "The girl dresses like a prostitute."

Quinn smirked. "Such poetic whim."

"I speak the truth sir. No more or less."

"Fair enough."

The two came at last to the iron door that separated the coliseum from the dungeon vault. Two guards, identical to the two that followed Ariel everywhere she went, nodded at the silent stare she gave them and quickly opened the door. Quinn entered followed directly by Ariel. Just beyond the door were two different sets of stairs, separated by another door. The stairs, one leading down and the other up, led to the cells. Beyond the middle door was the interrogation chamber, and this was where Quinn had asked to meet all his prisoners.

He took a torch from the wall as he entered the dark room, holding the flame up to peer to the girl that hung by her wrists from the ceiling at the center of the room. She had been given only enough slack that her shackled feet touched the ground. He brought the flame close to her face.

One look brought a sudden grimace to the old man's features. She was beautiful, a trim, athletic woman with full breasts and a perfect, hourglass figure, and her scant, yellow outfit left little to the imagination. He fought to keep his personal desire in check. He wasn't supposed to be a horny old man anymore. "So?"

The girl glared back at him. "So what!"

"Explain yourself."

"Explain myself! Just who the hell are you?" she demanded. "Untie me, damnit! Is this your idea of courtesy around here!"

Quinn glared at her for a moment. "I don't recall sending an invitation."

"I'm a call girl, you idiot! My boss sent me here to give a someone a good screw. Hanging me here by the wrists really doesn't put me in a very good position to give a blowjob, let alone anything else."

"A whore, eh? I see." He gave her a look. He turned from her to the table where her equipment was strewn about. "I never saw a whore with such interesting assortment of accessories." Slowly he lifted her sidearm. "Tell me why you are armed."

"It's a dangerous world out there, old man. A girl's gotta have more than looks to get by in this day and age."

"True enough. But what about this?" He slowly held up her infrared goggles.

The woman didn't skip a beat. "What can I say? I'm in the business to satisfy. I've seen a lot of kinky fetishes in my day."

Quinn smirked. "You are a liar, my dear young lady. A very quirky, interesting liar, with a great body, but still just a liar."

"Yeah, I guess it was worth a shot."

"Oh yes, most definitely." He tapped the gun to his palm, gazing at her. "I'm not an easy man to please. Not even my friends are safe. I had a bounty hunter executed for failure only five days ago."

She swallowed. "What's that got to do with me?"

"I execute my friends, woman. Does that not bring you discomfort?"

"This is pretty uncomfortable as is."

"Tell me your name."

The woman smirked. "Lucy the Liar."

A hand snatched her hair and tore her head back; she cried out in surprise. Ariel's pink lips brushed against the young woman's ear as she hissed angrily at her. "Insolence will lead you nowhere save the grave, foolish little child."

"Ariel speaks true," Quinn said. "I am a very busy man whose patience is already stretched beyond its limits. I would just as soon have your throat slit than waste precious time sifting through your bullshit."

"That's not very nice. All I have is my bullshit."

Quinn was silent for a moment.

"You should let me kill her. She is nothing but a nuisance."

He look from Ariel to the strange woman, and shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"Sir…"

He held up a hand. "There are seven Gung-Ho Guns in this compound, none of whom have experience more than a moment of pleasure since they arrived here ten months ago." He gave the young woman a sly grin. "I believe I shall offer the nameless call girl a night of peace before I send you south."

The girl glared at him. "You wouldn't."

With a smirk, Quinn approached his young prisoner, drew his hand gently along the girl's thigh, tracing slowly to the crotch of her yellow shorts. He looked up to her and then squeezed her tender flesh in his fingers, giving it a violent twist. The girl screamed in agony, and the old man fixed her with a hateful glare. "Yes, I would."

Ariel watched in silence as the prisoner tried to twist away from his cruel touch.

"You don't have to ask," Quinn said gently as he released her. "I'm pretty sure my men would be less forgiving then I."

With that, he turned and stalked from the room. Ariel smirked, her hands behind her back. The girl hung there, suddenly defeated.

"That is the price of defiance," she said after a time.

Eyes filled with the tears of pain lifted to meet her gaze.

"I'm a defiant woman," she said, her throat dry and her voice filled with agony. "To the bitter end."

Ariel had to smile. "One tough cookie," she commented. "Admirable, at least. If not foolish."

Then, she too, was gone.

Alone, at last, the young prisoner began to sob quietly to herself, both at the terror of her disposition and the throbbing pain between her legs.