This story is based on the 'Gunsmith Cats' manga by Kenichi Sonoda, with a few elements from the 'Riding Bean' OAV (1989). It is set after the last published manga in English as of March 2005.
Tell me what you thought of it, no matter what you have to say. I'm a big girl. :) I always welcome reader reactions, especially ones that go into detail. Please email me at MmeManga "at" aol dot com (address spelled out because this site strips all email addys and URLS) or leave your comments here.
NOTE: The complete version of this story is housed at my Livejournal, which is linked on my main page on this site. I have removed large sections of chapters Two, Eight and Thirty from the postings here because of the current site rules, although this story existed on the site long before those rules went into effect. I am sorry for any inconvenience to readers; this factor is unfortunately not under my control. The complete version will also be posted at Mediaminer. My former dedicated Gunsmith Cats site no longer exists.
DISCLAIMER: Characters of RALLY VINCENT, BEAN BANDIT, MAY HOPKINS, ROY COLEMAN, KEN TAKI copyright Kenichi Sonoda. All other characters, and story, copyright 2000--2005 by Madame Manga. Contact by email at MmeManga Do not sell or print for sale without the express written permission of the author. Do not archive. Permission is granted to circulate this text in electronic form, free of charge and with this disclaimer and the author's name attached. Do not plagiarize, alter, or appropriate this text in any way. This story is intended for personal entertainment purposes only. No infringement of any copyrights or other rights is intended.
ADULT CONTENT WARNING IN BOLD CAPS!
This story is not for kids or the easily offended. It contains explicit violence and extreme profanity. If you object to reading such things, do not read this story.
Chasing the Dragon
by Madame Manga
Chapter Twenty-One
"Ohh…oooh," moaned May. "Oh, my God…Kenny, I think I'm going to have an org—"
"Not NOW!" hissed Rally, her cheeks flaming. "There are FBI agents watching!"
"But, Rally!" protested May. "How can I help it? It's so…so…" She gestured at the walls of the Federal Building's armory. Boxes of ammunition, racks of grenades, piles of folded body armor and trays of fuses and detonators crowded every shelf. Smith gave her a strange look as Roy followed him into the armory. "So many beautiful explosives! And the sexy smell…" She fell gracefully backwards into Ken's arms. "Oooh, Kenny, I'm so WET! Feel how hard my nipples—"
"Please don't!" begged Rally, for Ken's face looked flushed and avid as he cradled May and cast his eyes over the shelves. "We're only in here to pick out some stuff!" She turned and spied a Heckler and Koch 11A1 light machine gun in an open cabinet. "Oh, look at THAT!"
Dashing across the room, she seized it in her arms as if it were a long-lost child. "You little darling! Mama has one just like you at home!" She planted a smooch on the stock and rummaged through the cabinet. "Do you have any brothers and sisters in here with you? How about a cousin? I just adore your whole family…"
"She always talk to her guns?" said Smith aside to Roy.
"'Fraid so," said Roy with a sigh.
"And, uh…what's up with Miss May?"
Both of them watched her run her hands along the shelves and grab various items, fondling the grenades with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Every few seconds, she let out a sensual little squeak and wriggled her body.
"I gather she enjoys her equipment."
"You really don't want to know…"
"I think you may be right about that." Smith shook his head. "You want to check out the HK11?" he asked Rally.
"Oh, could I? I mean, I don't know if it's actually going to come in handy, but it's so cute!"
"That looks like an assault rifle," said Roy. "I thought you had one already."
"My SIG! I wouldn't change that for anything, but this is a real machine gun! See, it's got the quick-change barrel and the belt feed instead of a box magazine. It's based on the G3 assault rifle."
"You don't say," said Roy, rolling his eyes.
"Heckler and Koch do a lot of modular design, so there's a whole family—this is the coolest one in the lineup, I think! It's more accurate than the HK21 military version, since it was made for police use."
"Yeah," said Smith, grinning. "The GSC9 anti-terrorist unit in Germany uses that baby. It's the machine-gun equivalent of a sniper rifle. You got good taste, Miss Rally."
"Naturally I do! I'm so happy to find one here!"
"Planning on mowing down a few phalanxes of Dragons? I don't think there are that many of 'em left on the streets."
"No, it sounds like we're down to 426 and maybe one or two lieutenants." Rally peered down the barrel of the HK11. "But he's damn hard to hit. We are going to have to approach him as if he were a whole squad, not one man."
"You got a point there. That baby is at your disposal."
"Thank you! I'll have to sight this in," said Rally. "Where do you keep the 7.62 belts?"
"Right here." Smith unlocked a cabinet and hefted an ammo case. "I'm taking you down to the firing range myself, because I need to talk to you."
"While I'm sighting in a machine gun? It's bound to be noisy!"
"It's important." Smith looked uncharacteristically sober. Roy's expression darkened. "It's about a mutual acquaintance of ours."
She flicked her gaze to theirs. "Oh."
"Bean Bandit, huh?" BRAAAAAP! Rally squeezed the trigger a little harder than necessary and blasted twenty rounds through the target in a heartbeat.
"That's right." Smith cupped his ear protectors around his head and stood off to the side with Roy to avoid flying pieces of the disintegrating ammo belt. "Is there any chance that Bean may show again? We sure could use him right about now."
"I suppose we could." Rally fired off another burst to finish off the hundred-round belt. Her well-punctured target tore in half and fell to the floor. Roy's face twitched; she could imagine that he hoped to see Bean in a similar state someday.
"Come on, girl, you can tell me where he is. You know I won't arrest him. I'd be grateful—"
"So would I, Pete." Rally folded back the bipod stand and laid the gun down to change barrels. "He is the best at what he does. Of course…so am I."
"Sure you are." Smith made a half-apologetic smile and put up his hands. "I'm not saying we're screwed without the Roadbuster—hell, this is the FBI. What I meant is, in these peculiar circumstances—"
"Do you know how to find out where he is?" said Roy with the suggestion of a growl.
"Other than calling him up and saying, 'Hey, Bean, mind filling me in on your plans?' No, I don't," said Rally with emphasis. "That is the truth. I don't have the right contacts in the Bay Area, and the local information brokers wouldn't necessarily be tracking an out-of-towner…though Bean's made himself pretty conspicuous out here. In any case, there's probably no information to buy."
"Then you don't know if he's going to show?" prompted Smith.
"I really doubt it."
"Why is that?"
She paused with the spare barrel in hand. "He's finished here. There's nothing more for him to do in San Francisco..."
Roy pulled down his ear protectors. "Bean's heading home to Chicago. No doubt about it. He's my problem again, not yours."
"You know that for sure?" Smith glanced from one to the other.
"Well…I can deduce it." Rally fiddled with a bit of belt metal.
Roy nodded in grim agreement. "He's not interested in helping her or the FBI. He's a mercenary, and there's no profit in it for him. Certainly he doesn't have any personal interests at stake."
Smith's eyes narrowed. "You can deduce it from what?" he said to Rally.
"That's just the way he is, Pete." Rally flipped the bit of metal into the air and let it fall to the floor. "He doesn't hang around unless there's a job to do. He doesn't know that Wesson isn't on the case any more, so he probably thinks the FBI is still after him."
"Not to mention," Roy put in, "the whole San Francisco PD wants to roast his hide."
Smith snickered. "And he's aiming straight back into the welcoming arms of the Chicago PD? What would that tend to tell you about his opinion of Cook County law enforcement, Detective Coleman?"
Roy showed his teeth and clenched his fists. For a moment, Rally was sure he meant to sock Smith in the jaw, but he folded his arms and only stared at him. "Maybe it's got more to do with his opinion of how well the San Francisco FBI office is going to brief their counterparts in Chicago," he shot back. "I hear there's special information on the Roadbuster that you and Wesson never showed anyone else! Maybe because of its dubious source?"
Rally jumped. Did he mean Brown's dossier on Bean? What else could he mean?
"Well now, where did you happen to hear that?" said Smith softly.
"I've been hanging out in this stinking Federal Building for what feels like half my goddamn life! Word gets around…even to a plainclothes Chicago cop. You people have some pretty damn specific info about Bean's origins and operations! Were you ever planning to share that with the rank and file on the street?"
"I gave you some info," said Smith defensively. Obviously Roy had deduced the existence of the black folder just as she had.
"Yeah, that he was half Japanese! What the hell do I care about that?" Roy began to turn red around the temples. "You have a big file folder on the man, you have all the dope on his connections and his family—did it ever occur to you that ordinary cops could take the bastard off the streets with that information?"
Smith spread his hands. "Now hold on just a moment. I don't have a big file folder on Bean. You want to search my desk? It's not there."
Of course it wasn't there—May had stolen it! Smith was telling the literal truth as far as that went. Rally rolled her eyes.
"What, Wesson filed it? Don't chop logic with me, you son of a—"
Rally stepped between them. "Boys, boys! I thought we were after 426 and the hostages?" She pointed at Smith. "Forget about Bean. I have, and I'm sure he's done the same for me. He's not showing up to help, and that's all I've got to say."
Roy let out a hiss and turned to the door, obviously still too angry to continue the discussion. Rally looked after him, unsure what to do. Roy was her friend, but the subject of Bean set him off like white phosphorus meeting oxygen. Should she follow him and try to get to the bottom of this?
Smith scowled. "Wasn't Bean shadowing you around town after he got back from Vegas, Miss Rally? Because 426 allegedly wanted your hide, and is an expert at killing people in painfully creative ways?"
"So Bean said. That was before I almost…got him killed." To her dismay her voice wobbled.
Roy stopped where he was.
"You putting that one on your own shoulders?" said Smith. "Sounds to me like Bean brought it on himself."
"What?"
"What kind of idiot would jump into 426's car with a dislocated shoulder, outnumbered three to one?" Smith drew a finger in a slash below his chin. "Bean knew what a wizard that man is at hand-to-hand combat. Naturally he ended up with a cut throat! It was his own damn fault!"
Rally glared at Smith, real anger welling up. "Bean was trying to rescue Tiffany! Of course he'd do everything possible!"
"Why?"
"Because he'd promised me that he'd fulfill the job, and he always protects children!"
"Children? Even the daughter of his worst enemy? All he ever agreed to was driving the rescue car. Remember, I was there."
"What's your damn point?" said Roy. "You're not trying to claim that Bandit—"
Smith gave a harsh smile. "According to everything I know—from a variety of sources—Bean has always fulfilled his obligations to the letter. No less…and no more. He doesn't give freebies, he's not a bodyguard, and even if he does like to protect kids, he's never before risked his life that way to do so."
"Well, adrenaline can do—" Rally began.
"You told me he didn't quit until he was stuck full of holes, bleeding to death, and with 426 threatening to blind the kid on the spot! Bean is a cool head, and he doesn't get carried away even in the middle of a hot fight. He calculates his angles and he always leaves an escape route. As you've both been telling me, he's interested only in his own survival and profit. The man is a professional to the bone marrow. Right?" Smith raised his brows and looked directly at Rally.
"Uh, well…"
"Except where you are concerned, Miss Rally." His intense expression suddenly gave way to something resembling sympathy. "Look, I'm not trying to trick some admission out of you the way Brown did. I apologize if I started sounding like that son of a bitch just now. But either Bean decided he wanted to do Sly a great big favor all of a sudden, or he just couldn't bear to let Rally Vincent down. Now be honest with me, girl. What sounds more plausible to you?"
"Shit," said Roy.
Rally's lips threatened to quiver, so she clamped them tightly. "I…I just don't want to get anyone's hopes up."
"Whose hopes?" Smith pressed her. "Yours?"
"What about the money Bean stole from you?" said Roy suddenly, as if he had just stumbled on a gold mine. "There's an obligation he hasn't taken care of yet! If it does turn out that he's still in the city, that has to be the reason why!"
"The suitcase with the five hundred grand?" Smith put his hands in his pants pockets and nodded. "He owes Miss Rally a quarter mil, according to her agreement to split the dough fifty-fifty. Then it's even more likely he'd stick around until the money's paid off! That's a real man's way."
"The money," said Rally, her heart suddenly plummeting. Yes, she had allowed her hopes to rise. Every moment she changed her opinion of Bean, bad memories and new developments swirling in her head like blood mixing with clean water. He was a jerk, he was a hero. He was a foul-mouthed braggart, he was a passionate lover. He was a low-class criminal, he was a—
"Real man?" muttered Roy. "Ask me about my definition of a 'real man'."
Rally sighed and reached into her jacket. "Bean gave me this during the rescue operation."
"That looks like a key for a safe-deposit box," said Roy.
"It is." Rally held it out between finger and thumb. "He told me that he had put all the money that was left from the five hundred thousand into the Bank of America's vault. I haven't had a chance to pick it up yet." Actually, she had nearly forgotten about it. When she had believed that Bean was dead, the money they had chased for days hadn't seemed important in the least.
"How much was left?" asked Smith.
"About fifty-eight grand." Rally cocked her head and scanned the ceiling, recalling their conversation in the Charger. "Something like that. I think I had it figured it out to the last dollar, but I don't remember the exact amount right now." She checked her watch: 6:30 A.M. "I'll go get the money out of the safe deposit box when the bank opens and bring it back here. The moment he gets the rest of it to me, it's going straight to you. I know the FBI will make good use of it!"
Smith shook his head in mild disgust. "Peanuts. Nickel and dime stuff. That quarter mil isn't going to make me happy at all."
Rally's jaw dropped. "Pete, I worked like crazy to get the FBI that dough! I went through hell! That's what the whole operation was about! What do you mean, it won't make you HAPPY?"
"You know what I want? I want the Dragon treasure." He nodded significantly. "Their whole stash locked away in a government safe would make me very, very happy. Drugs, jewels, gold, securities and cash—a real stack. I estimate that at a cool fifty mil."
"Wow!" Roy's eyes opened wide.
"Well, gee!" Rally snorted. "I wish someone had told me before I knocked myself out that the FBI didn't give a crap about a measly quarter million bucks! Not when there's fifty million for the taking!"
"But I ain't gonna get it." Smith sat down and let out a deflating breath. "Manny told me it was all loaded on a boat that used to belong to Brown. He gave 426 the keys himself. They'll have taken it out of the harbor and met a ship out past the two-hundred mile limit. All that stuff is on its merry way to Macau as we speak."
"So no dice." Rally rolled her eyes.
"No dice. I'm afraid they were too quick for us. That's a lot of Brown's dough, plus the Dragon's cash on hand and everything they had in the vault at their HQ. With that, the Dragons can start afresh anywhere in the world. Without it, they're well and truly screwed. If I could pull in that loot for Uncle Sam, I'd probably get a medal!"
"You'd get a medal? What about me?"
"Miss Rally, I'd recommend anyone for a nice fat reward if he could pull in that money somehow. You know, they have a finder's fee for some drug busts, and it only applies to private citizens, not government employees." He winked at her. "You are definitely eligible."
"Oh, cool!" Visions of riches temporarily obscured her vision. Roy groaned and shook his head. "But I'd better think about 426 before I think about his money! No point in getting overconfident."
"Sure. You've seen the man fight, which I haven't."
"That was one of the scariest things I have seen in my life." Rally shivered.
"I'd imagine it was. He's got a big reputation among the Triads and it's spread far and wide on the West Coast. Of course, the rumors tend to involve black magic and that kind of crap—" A wall phone rang. "Excuse me—I'm expecting a call from Veterans Hospital." He picked up the phone and turned slightly away to speak. "Smith."
Rally grimaced. "I'm not so sure I'd call it crap," she said to Roy. "He was uncanny." She put a hand on the stock of the HK11. "That's why I picked out this little beauty."
"I hope it does you good."
"So do I. I think he'll be even more dangerous now that he's alone." She glanced at Roy as she changed barrels and fed in a new ammo belt. "He let his lieutenants do all the work when the Dragons had us surrounded on the street. He didn't make a move until they were all inactivated, and then he took us apart. He seemed to be in two places at once and he kept coming up with new attacks. We couldn't get our balance. If he had really wanted to waste us, instead of get away with his hostages, I wouldn't be talking to you now."
"Yeah, I got the dope from Agent Wojohowicz. She seems to be a very capable woman, but she looked like she'd seen a ghost."
"So did I, Roy. So did I."
A shadow passed over Smith's face and he hung up the phone. "Shit."
"What is it, Pete? Was it about the agents that 426 put in the hospital? How are they?" She recalled that one had been killed, two wounded, and one was hanging on to life.
"Yeah." He briefly put a hand over his face. "I talked to one of the two he left alive, and a doctor."
"Two left alive?" Rally felt her heart sink. "Then the agent who was unconscious…?"
"Beretta. He's not quite dead yet, no. But they just told me he's not expected to survive. Internal bleeding—the transfusions can't keep up. He's sinking fast." Smith turned to the door. "I have to go. I'm going to have to talk to his family. Maybe I'll get there in time to—well, you know."
"Wait a minute. Internal bleeding?" Rally's eyes scanned back and forth.
"Yeah. His wounds don't really warrant it—he just has bruises on the torso. But he's bleeding like a goddamn hemophiliac. Some people claim 426 can cause that just by striking in the right places with his martial arts witchcraft mumbo-jumbo."
"You mean a ruptured spleen?" said Roy skeptically. "Can't they operate?"
"No, they opened him up already, but they haven't been able to stop the bleeding. Beretta's in a coma and his vitals are fading." Smith's mouth tightened. "No matter how 426 did it, that's another agent cut down in the line of duty. That makes four of mine that the bastard has probably murdered."
A near-explosion went off in Rally's mind and she almost dropped the gun. "Bean!"
"Huh? Now what about Bean?" said Roy.
"426 poisoned Bean with an anticoagulant! Wouldn't a high dose make someone bleed internally?"
"Yeah, it might." Smith stared at her, the same thought obviously forming in his brain.
"And he's in a coma! Doesn't this sound familiar?"
Smith's eyes opened wide. "But how would he have gotten the poison—oh, holy crap! 426 had a knife, and maybe Beretta got a scratch!"
Rally's mouth opened wide. "Call San Francisco General!" she yelled. "Ask for Doctor Gage!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Smith fumbled out his cell phone and punched buttons. "Gage? G-A-G-E? OK, I met the guy at the hospital!"
Rally dashed for the elevator with him, Roy on her heels. "Yes! He's the one who operated on Bean. I gave him a couple of 426's poisoned throwing stars, and he ordered a toxicology analysis. Maybe he's gotten back some results by now! He was really interested in what made Bean come back to life!"
"Damn!" Smith yelled into the phone, asking a switchboard operator to get him the emergency department at San Francisco General. He hung up and gestured to the door. "My office. Come talk to the docs at Veterans while we wait to get hold of Dr. Gage. Tell them what happened with Bean!"
On Smith's speaker phone with Agent Beretta's doctor, Rally quickly described Bean's apparent death and revival, trying to leave nothing out.
"Yes, the machines all showed flatline…they did CPR and gave him shocks. His blood pressure went to zero and he stopped breathing…" She bit her lips, remembering her grief and fury in the operating room. Smith had been there with her—he knew how deep her feelings had been. Was that why he kept trying to nudge her opinions in a certain direction? As a matter of fact, he had been doing that for quite a while now…
"I've got Dr. Gage on the conference call now," said the doctor. "Let me just confirm some things with him, and I've got a few more questions for you."
"OK, I'll hold." Rally listened as the doctors shot medical terms back and forth for several minutes, her palms sweating. Was this going to do any good?
"Right," said Agent Beretta's doctor. "Got that. Now, Ms. Vincent, how exactly did Mr. Bandit revive?"
"Well…uh, I kissed him." Her cheeks flushed. Smith's eyes widened and Roy looked nauseated. "I talked to him for a while when they left me alone with him, and then I was going to leave, and I kissed him on the mouth. He responded…"
"Yes, she told me that at the time," said Doctor Gage. "I listened and got a faint pulse. We resumed transfusions and oxygen, and the subject was breathing on his own in a few minutes. No sign of brain damage, and he walked out of the hospital on his own later that night. It was as if he had been in suspended animation the whole time. I still don't know exactly what the hell was going on—I said she must be his magical fairy princess or something." Both doctors snorted. "I can fax you the toxicology results right now—I only got them last night, but we have a complete profile on the poison. It's warfarin, with some Chinese herbal ingredients. Weird stuff—probably home brewed."
"We'll call you again if we need more information," said the other doctor. "Thank you very much, Ms. Vincent. I have a patient to save!"
"You're welcome." Rally hung up and let out a deep breath. Smith hid a smile with one hand. Roy looked heartbroken, his face working as he stared out Smith's office window.
"Man, oh man," laughed Smith. "Good work! Keep listening to those instincts, girl! I guess you're the only one in the position to put all the bits and pieces together, since you stayed with Bean through the whole business."
"I suppose I did."
Smith leaned forward and grinned. "And if the docs get into a panic again, I'll send you down there to give Agent Beretta a big ol' smooch!" He cackled and slapped his thigh as Rally blushed. "The fairy princess's kiss brings 'em back to life, huh? Sounds like you've got a little magic of your own, Miss Rally!"
Roy banged the door on his way out of the office.
"Where is he hiding? The devil only knows. Their former HQ is emptied out and under guard. Not a chance. Every property Brown ever owned is also under surveillance, as are about a dozen warehouses around the Bay Area. We checked the garage that Manichetti told us about—the one where Miss May was held for a while with the kid. Looks like he was there, but he isn't anymore. Someone made a big bonfire of boxes and computers and so on in the middle of the floor, and it's still cooling. Guess he didn't need any of his stuff wherever the hell he was going." Smith threw up his hands and sat back.
"What about the pier?" May fiddled with her new collection of grenades.
"What about it?" snorted Smith. "It's a wreck. Forensics went over it with sticky tape and a microscope. The company the Dragons leased it from got a demolition permit posthaste since it's such a hazard. Their structural engineer said it could collapse into the bay and damage the pilings of the next pier, the owners might be liable, blah blah. I hear the wrecking crews already went to work, so it'll be history in a week or so. Anything else you want to know? Where the hell is Coleman?"
"I don't know." May gave a shrug. "He told me to get my butt out of the armory and get to work. He looked pretty unhappy and he left right away."
"All right, not the pier," said Rally, feeling somewhat unhappy herself. Had she really let Roy down so badly? Bean wasn't around, and he wasn't going to appear again. Was he that much of a hazard in Roy's opinion? He seemed afraid of Bean in a way, his anger taking on an edge of guilt. Had he taken some step to keep them apart that he didn't want Rally to know about? "Maybe we can't track 426 down directly. If I talk to Manichetti again, maybe I can get a clue out of him. He might have heard something while he was with the Dragons."
"He's at your disposal. I've got him in a secure room two floors down."
"A holding cell? Is he formally under arrest?"
"Actually, no." Smith chuckled, obviously in a better mood. Agent Beretta was now out of danger, an antitoxin devised by Dr. Gage flushing the poison from his body. "We have a few rooms here for keeping witnesses safe, short-term. They're just bed and bath like a motel room. Mrs. Brown and her daughter are staying with us too, since we sure don't want 426 to get to them again. We sent a detail over to pick them up from the hotel as soon as we got word that he'd taken Larry Sam."
"That makes sense. Manichetti's being treated as a witness, not a perpetrator?"
Agent Wojohowicz came in with a pile of file folders and put them on Smith's desk, then sat down and began to page through one of them.
Smith pursed his lips. "That's under negotiation still. I assume you're pressing charges over the attempt O'Toole made to kill you and Miss May. Manny was an accessory to that, so there's one count. He worked for Brown. That's seven years' worth of aiding and abetting conspiracy, drug trafficking, extortion, tax evasion and so on. I could pick from a good long list of federal crimes, and several counties in California could pick from another long list. Going back a little further, New York and Jersey could probably pin some stuff on him from when he was with the Gambinos in the '80s."
"Sounds like he could pull a lot of years." May whistled.
"He could, though in my opinion it's more likely that he'll cut a deal and testify instead. He's never been a triggerman, so they may go light on him. Since he hasn't been arrested yet, I don't have to find him a lawyer and file all the goddamn paperwork. He sings like a bird. Why put a cork in him now? I'll get around to the actual arrest if he threatens to run dry." Smith gave a tight smile. "You run along and talk to him. I'm going to cover some other leads with Wojohowicz."
Rally's cell phone rang and she quickly pulled it out. "Rally Vincent here."
"It's Vanessa Sam," said a teary voice.
"Oh! Vanessa, I'm so sorry about what's happened—"
"Oh, man, Larry's family!" whispered May. Wojohowicz looked sympathetic.
"Are you still working with the FBI? My parents wanted to know if you're on the job."
Rally's throat clenched. "Yes, I am. I'm doing everything I know how to do. We'll get him back."
"He's my big brother, Rally." Vanessa fell silent for a few moments, her sobbing breaths audible through the phone. "He…he was talking to me yesterday afternoon, after you saved him from that hit man at the hospital. He told me some things that surprised me…about you." She paused again, seeming to choke back tears. "I probably shouldn't betray his confidences, and I don't want to get into heterosexist assumptions about alpha females—oh, the hell with it. Rally, my brother really cares about you. I mean, big time. He's counting on you."
"Thank you, Vanessa. That means a lot to me."
"So I'll hang up and get out of the way so you can do your job. We believe in you, Rally. Every one of us Sams. We know you're the best at what you do."
Rally felt something cool flow through her as she said goodbye put down the phone. A clean sense of energy and resolve. It was a little strange, though not entirely unfamiliar. When she had been chasing rewards and credit, she had never felt this way. Excited, yes; filled with adrenaline and the joy of combat.
But also a little dirty, a little guilty or morally compromised. Were money and some measure of fame ever worth what it took to get them? When the goal was so far above personal gain, the feeling was equally elevated, something close to transcendent.
She was doing the right thing. She was saving lives and stopping evil acts. This, perhaps, was what she was meant to do. Her destiny. Often she had tried to accomplish similar things; never before had it been so clear to her exactly why they had to be accomplished.
Could Bean have also felt this way, just before the knives had met his flesh?
Manichetti proved to be more than cooperative—he seemed friendly and jovial, often cracking a smile. In the situation, Rally wondered at his happiness. 426 was still on the loose! Two men were hostages and in mortal danger! Every minute counted—the sooner they got some leads, the better were the chances of survival for Larry Sam and Agent Bui.
Manichetti couldn't give them much more information about 426's possible lairs, however. Freely admitting his ignorance, he told her he wished he could help.
"I'd love to see that bastard put away, Ms. Vincent. He might've killed the girls."
"Yes, that's exactly what he was going to do." Rally drank the remains of her third cup of coffee. It was 8 A.M., she had been up since 4 A.M., and she still hadn't had breakfast. Food seemed unimportant right now, and her stomach felt tied in knots—of course, three cups of coffee with two sugars each might have had something to do with that. "OK, I believe you. You'd tell us if you knew."
"I'd shoot him myself, and I ain't no gunsel." Manichetti's eyes darkened and slid away from hers. "Yeah, I guess I could do that," he said almost to himself. He ran a beefy hand over his unshaven chin.
"Because 426 threatened Tiffany, huh?" Rally watched him carefully; she had some suspicions about Manichetti. Before she put all her trust in his word, she would like to have those suspicions cleared up.
"Sure, and Sarah too. I, uh, I guess you know about that."
"Agent Smith said you and she had been having an affair for a while," May remarked. "Just how long…?"
Manichetti blushed and looked down. "A while, yeah. She married Mr. Brown six years ago. I, uh, kind of fell in love with her the first time I saw her. But I didn't say nothing to her or anybody. I wasn't that dumb."
"Yeah?" Rally wondered for a moment if he would have any insight into a man's motives for keeping quiet about his attachment to a woman. "But you obviously got around to it sooner or later."
"You know what?" Manichetti smiled at his thick fingers. "She said it to me first."
"Oh, really," said Rally dubiously. May pursed her lips, obviously trying not to laugh.
"Mr. Brown was always going out of town, or out of the country, and he didn't generally take Sarah along. He'd leave me in charge of her all the time, like keeping an eye on her and driving her everywhere she went. I tried to be a gentleman to her. He didn't treat her good, you know? I'd hear him screamin' at her even though I was at the back of the house. I never thought that was right, you know, to yell at a woman that way or hit her. It ain't the manly thing, in my personal opinion."
"Make love, not war," said May, nodding in approval. "I guess I can see why she thought you were a better deal than her husband was. So when the baby came along, did he ever realize that she wasn't his?"
Manichetti jumped out of his chair and halfway across the room. "Mother of God! H-how'd you know that?"
Rally gasped. "Tiffany is HIS daughter? Not Brown's? How DID you know that?"
"Oh, it stuck out like a sore thumb once it occurred to me!" May giggledin triumph. "I got to know the kid while we were held together at the Pink Pearl. Manny was so concerned about her welfare that I got an inkling, and then I started paying attention! She's got her daddy's big brown eyes, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, she does." Manichetti grinned shamefacedly and shambled back to his chair. "Lucky she got the rest from her pretty mama."
"Aw, how sweet." May patted him on the arm. "You were taking care of your own little girl all along!"
"Yeah. Thank God Mr. Brown never figured it out."
"What would he have done to you?" Rally's skin prickled. "Killed you all?"
"Not himself," murmured Manichetti. "He had people for that kind of job. Like Tom O'Toole. I figure he'd have told Tom to cut off my balls and feed 'em to—"
"Never mind!" Rally held up her hands. "Damn, what's happened to him? The last time I saw him, he was trying to kill me and Larry at the hospital. I was surprised as hell to see him alive!"
"Your guess is good as mine, Miss. If Tom ain't dead, he could be anywhere."
"Did you ever see the mark 426 burned on his chest?"
"A mark on his chest? No, I didn't." Manichetti looked at her. "426 burned him?"
"I was told that it was a Chinese character meaning 'retribution'. This would have happened before you hooked up with him after Brown's escape. I saw it during the attempt he made to kill me and May…the one you helped with."
"Oh." Manichetti blushed.
"Is there any way he could still be with 426?" mused Rally. "If he was being supplied with drugs to keep him on his feet…or at least keep him going, considering that he's lost a leg, he might still be useful." She looked at May. "That would mean that 426 isn't entirely on his own."
"Useful how?" said May skeptically.
"Well…maybe not by now!" Rally laughed. "He's so full of holes he must be leaking like a government sting! How much ammo have I wasted on that one guy?"
"Plenty, I guess." Manichetti looked a little pale. "You busted his jaw and tore him up some—he was yelling even with the morphine. Tom ain't so good about pain."
Rally glanced at him, her laughter subsiding. "Uh…whatever." For a moment she thought about the suffering O'Toole must have endured since she had first shot him, but she pushed the thought away. He deserved every moment of pain he got! "Well, OK, I guess that's all we need from you now. Thanks." She pushed her chair back and got up.
"I'll buzz the guard to let us out." May reached for the intercom button by the door. "Hi! We're done!"
"So you heard from Bandit yet?" asked Manichetti.
"What do you mean, yet?" Rally gave an irritated shrug. "He's gone back home by now."
Manichetti grinned at her, his good mood resurfacing. "Oh, yeah? I bet he's waiting around for—"
"STOP IT!" yelled Rally, making May jump. "Will everyone just STOP IT RIGHT NOW! Bean is NOT GOING TO HANG OUT IN FRISCO TO KEEP AN EYE ON ME!"
"Geez, warn me next time!" expostulated May, fanning her face. "I just about had the baby right here!"
"Everything OK in there?" called the guard, opening the door.
"It's fine! Sorry!" Rally grabbed her jacket and brushed past him. A moment later, she turned back and jabbed a finger at Manichetti, who was still grinning at her. "I don't care what you think, you hear me? I don't care what anyone thinks! Even if Bean walked up to me right now and handed me fifty million bucks in Dragon drug money, I still wouldn't believe that he—"
"You know he saved your ass on the road, back on I-5," said Manichetti with a sly wink. "I saw him in the rear-view."
"What?"
"Oooh!" squealed May. "Tell, tell!"
Manichetti looked at her. "You heard what happened when Bandit was chasing us up here from L.A.?"
"Some of it! He and Rally got tangled up with a couple of trucks when they caught up to Brown's Lamborghini on I-5. O'Toole shot out Bean's front tire. Rally ran into him when he swerved and they both went down the embankment. Bean's Corvette got smashed to bits and caught on fire, but the Cobra was OK."
"Yeah, like that." He looked back at Rally. "You ever wonder why it happened that way? Why you didn't get hurt?"
"What the hell?" spluttered Rally. "How could Bean have done anything about it? He was out of control and I crashed into him doing sixty! It was dumb luck, that's all."
"Nope. Like I say, he saved your ass." Manichetti sat back and shook his head. "I saw it all."
Slowly Rally came back into the room, eyes fixed on him. "Saved my ass how?"
"Well, you recall you hit him at an angle? He was going right, you were going left, and you collided like that." He demonstrated with his hands. "If he'd kept going the way he was going, he'd have curved round and gone straight down the embankment—just skied down, and you'd have spun out over the edge and done a few barrel rolls."
Rally sat down and frowned, trying to reconstruct the scene in her mind. "Yes...I remember that far. I was spinning left. But I didn't roll—he did."
"Yeah, exactly. He made it happen like that."
"Huh?"
"Like this." Again Manichetti spread his hands and angled them. "The instant you hit him, he pulled hard left. That whipped his rear end to the right, and he pushed your front along with him, so you curved right and ended up straight-on to the edge just as you went over. He had his right front tire shot out, so he rolled over on the road because of that stunt. Back end first, even, and at the speed he was going, he catapulted direct over the edge." Manichetti jerked a thumb over his shoulder and made a whistling sound. "Quite a sight, I'm tellin' ya."
"You're kidding."
"Nope." Manichetti slowly shook his head. "Never seen the like of it. That man's one hell of a driver."
Bean had thrown all his skill towards ensuring her safety? That impulse had almost cost him everything he had, not just his favorite LS-7 Corvette. He had ended up in a terrible position. Upside down in a burning car, legs trapped under the dashboard, the flames licking at the open back window— "Oh...my God."
"Yeah, thank God, or thank that SOB's instincts. He couldn't've saved both himself and you, so he picked you and went for broke."
Without a word, Rally got up and left the room. May trotted after her, for once wise enough to hold her tongue.
"I want something to eat," said Rally grimly. "I am going to the cafeteria, and I am not going to discuss this!"
"I didn't say anything." May nibbled her lower lip with a suggestive air. "But, uh—"
"Don't say it! He saved my life—again! He did it before I was his partner on the job, before I'd promised to split the money! Before we ever got into—oh, be quiet!" She broke into a run.
"Before you ever made love?" Rally whirled on May and she ducked and covered. "You said it, not me!"
"I HATE THIS!" shrieked Rally, pounding the wall and jumping up and down. Just then, Smith came around the corner with Agent Wojohowicz. Both of them stared at her.
"Uh…something wrong?" asked Smith. "We were just coming to see what you got from Manny."
"He didn't have much on 426." May shook her head. "Mostly a waste of time."
"Too bad. Miss Rally, what's the matter?"
"Nothing!" Rally turned away and huddled against the wall. Not going to cry, she told herself. Not going to cry. It's only low blood sugar and fatigue…
"Uh…I think she's tired," said May.
"Maybe she ought to take a break," said Wojohowicz in a diplomatic whisper.
"If she's going psycho, I think she'd better," replied Smith in a less tactful manner.
"No!" Rally moaned from under her arms. "I have to work…take my mind off…"
Wojohowicz stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, don't exhaust yourself with this stuff. We're going to need your work on tactical, obviously. Save your strength. The investigative end may take a while if we don't hear from 426, and you've been a lot of help already. So go take a break. We've got it covered."
"But…"
Smith sighed. "That's not an order, because the FBI is not your boss any more. But it's a sincere request. Four hours off, at least. Got that?"
"Oh…all right, Pete."
"There are some spare beds. Get some goddamn sleep if you can." Smith patted her on the back and left with Wojohowicz.
Sleep? That was utterly out of the question, but all of a sudden she was starving. May took her hand and led her through the hallways to the cafeteria.
"Hi, May!" yelled Tiffany from across the room. Accompanied by a female agent, she sat with a tray full of pastries and chocolate milk cartons on the table in front of her. She took a big bite of jelly doughnut and waved at them. "Hi, Rally Vincent! My mommy's still asleep! Did you talk to Manny?"
Rally groaned and shoveled down more scrambled eggs. She wasn't in the mood for small children, though she was beginning to feel better with some food in her stomach. "Pass the pepper, May."
May passed her the pepper and got up to give Tiffany a hug as she ran over to their table. "Hi, kiddo! Looks like you have a good appetite!" She picked her up and kissed her on the cheek. Rally grunted, her mouth full. May looked very motherly with a child in her arms…she was going to have to get used to that in a few more months!
"I'm really happy." Tiffany spread jelly and powdered sugar all over May's shirt. "My Daddy called me last night!"
May nearly dropped her. "Your Daddy?"
Rally spat eggs across the table. "WHAT?"
"You're messy!" said Tiffany.
"When did your Daddy call you?" asked May, sitting Tiffany down on a chair. The female agent came over to listen; Rally wiped the table with a napkin and sat up straight.
"Last night before I went to bed in the hotel," said Tiffany in a whispered giggle, then drew back and covered her mouth as if she were confiding a secret. "He used his funny voice."
"His funny voice?" May slid an incredulous look over to Rally.
"He calls me when he's away. He makes me laugh with his funny voice. I love my Daddy!" Tiffany got up and whirled in a dance. "I want my Daddy to come back!"
"How would she have gotten a call from…?" hissed Rally.
"Most hotel rooms have telephones!" May hissed back. "Hey, Tiffy, what did your daddy say to you?"
"He said he loves me and told me he was OK! He even sang me a lullaby!" Tiffany did a cartwheel, her dress flipping down to show her thin childish legs. "Then he talked to Mama and then she put me to bed. Where's Manny? I want to talk to Manny and tell him about it!"
"I don't know if you can see him, honey. Let's go find out, OK?" May got up, and as Tiffany scampered out of the cafeteria and down the hallway with her escort, she turned to Rally. "How about that, huh? Finally remembered he has a daughter…or at least he thinks he does!"
"I don't know." Rally's face worked. "There's something weird about this. How would Brown have been able to get the number of the hotel? Or know which room they were staying in? That was all supposed to be secret!"
"Search me, but I'll bet the FBI had the phone monitored. Better ask Agent Smith!" May raised her brows and followed Tiffany.
Rally ran to find Smith in his office. He listened intently to her account, his eyes scanning back and forth, then shook his head.
"Call from Brown, huh? Wojohowicz, check the phone log."
Wojohowicz went to another office to get a printout and came back frowning at it. "Not a chance. Mrs. Brown placed some calls to Southern California, all to her mother's number. Two incoming calls—one was me, and the other was also from the Federal Building. Was that you, Pete?" She put the printout on the desk.
"Wasn't me." Smith shrugged. "But if it was from here, it was FBI business. So unless Sly Brown disguised himself as an agent and sneaked in here to use the phone, he hasn't called his daughter."
"She says he did." Rally frowned in thought. "She didn't have any reason to lie that I know of."
"It was definitely him?"
"Apparently it was. But you know, Pete, she said he used his 'funny voice' and made her laugh."
"Sly's a comedian? Ha, ha. He'll be laughing out his ass when I catch up to him!"
"Uh-huh. Did it occur to you that the caller might be disguising his voice?"
"Why disguise his voice when talking to his own daughter?" said Wojohowicz in confusion.
"We'd better get it out of Mrs. Brown," said Smith. "She's been claiming he's dead for sure. Come on, we'll wake her up and give her the third degree!" He slapped the desk and got up.
"Shouldn't we listen to the tape first?" said Wojohowicz, rolling her eyes.
"There's a tape?" said Rally.
"Naturally," Wojohowicz replied.
"Naturally! If you'd put a recorder in my car, you'd put a tap on Mrs. Brown's hotel phone!"
"Bob Wesson bugged your car?" Wojohowicz blew out her cheeks with an air of disgust.
"Oh, you bet!" Rally glanced at Smith. "Were you hoping to catch anything important from her calls? Wasn't anyone listening in on the tap last night?"
"No, because there are enough damn things to do without putting someone full-time on Mrs. Brown's line. I told her she could talk to her mother." Smith sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "I think forcing a trained agent to listen to five hours of that woman's chatter would be grounds for immediate resignation." He picked up his phone.
"She stayed up all night talking to Mama, huh? No wonder she's still asleep!"
"Get me Surveillance," said Smith into the phone. "I've got to pull a tape for review."
"Speaking of the bug on my car, Pete…" Rally began.
"Eh? Just a sec," he said, breaking off his conversation and putting a hand over the mouthpiece. "What about it?"
"That recording Wesson played for me. The one in which Bean and Roy were having a slobberknocker argument. Apparently he picked the worst part and left out the rest."
Smith chuckled. "Apparently so."
"No cracks, Pete." She pointed at him. "I want the whole thing. I need to find out what Bean really said before Wesson took it out of context. Not to mention, I want to know what kind of dirt you got on me and May when we didn't know there was a recorder in the car! How about it?"
He shrugged. "Why the hell not?"
"May, do you HAVE to listen to this with me?" Rally jammed on a pair of headphones. "I don't want any smart remarks!"
"Yes, I do!" May picked up another pair and sat on a stool next to Rally. In front of them stood a huge bank of audio lab equipment, with computer stations and speakers arranged along the walls. They were using a Mac with an audio CD player and a full complement of digital sound enhancement software. "You got so bent out of shape hearing it the first time that I know you are going to need an unbiased opinion!"
"Unbiased? Don't make me laugh." Rally stopped the fast-forward to see how far the playback had advanced. "This sounds like us chasing Bean through San Francisco."
"He's rammed them all," said May on the playback. "I don't know if anyone's hurt—" SCRAAPE!
"Oooh! He's messing up my CAR! You're gonna pay for that!"
"Man, you sound pissed!" giggled May.
"I WAS pissed! Damn that man—he nearly took off the whole side of the Cobra when he drove Buff into me! He jammed me into a building and then he bashed me off the road! How am I ever going to afford to fix that?"
"If we get a taste of that fifty million, it would be pocket change!"
"Yeah, but we are not going to see a cent of it," sighed Rally. "It's on its way to the other side of the world!"
"He's going to 280 again, then," said Wesson on the playback. "South, or east?"
Rally's face twitched; Agent Wesson's malice was the reason she needed to listen to this thing for herself. Perhaps he had edited Bean's voice and manufactured the conversation. There was enough equipment and software in this lab for him to have played a lot of tricks with the raw material. But she remembered his expression of sly triumph as she had listened to Bean's obscene diatribe, and had a sinking feeling that he had not had to change a thing. Bean spoke for himself.
"What's he doing?" said Wesson on the playback.
"He…he just got eastbound, on the wrong side of the freeway! I can't follow him!" Rally sounded shaken and excited. "How the hell do I get on 280 east?"
"You're past it! Get off the freeway and turn around!"
"Shit! I'll be ten miles behind him!"
"That was kind of a thrilling day," said May with a smile.
"A little too thrilling!" Her heart beat rapidly just from her memory of the chase and its aftermath. Rally reached for the keyboard and prepared to fast-forward again.
"Somebody say he's going the wrong way?" broke in Smith's voice. "Yeehaw!"
"Pete!" said Wesson.
"The guy's got balls, at least! Man, this is getting interesting!"
"I think Smith likes Bean," commented May.
"Of course he does. They are both car nuts and they are both cowboys at heart. What's not to like?" Rally rolled her eyes and fast-forwarded, then played another section of the recording. She heard herself have a phone conversation with Vanessa Sam right after she had let Bean escape on the road east.
"So Bean just slipped out of the net?" asked May. "There sure were a lot of cops looking for him that day!"
"I let him go," Rally confessed, fast-forwarding. "I saw him on Highway 92 heading to the San Mateo Bridge and I didn't call it in."
"Well, well, well," said May, waggling her brows. Rally rolled her eyes and pressed Play again.
"You...had SEX with him?" May's voice was a shrieking whisper. "With BEAN BANDIT? You lost your virginity with HIM!"
"Aaack!" gasped Rally, quickly pressing the fast-forward once more. "This is too far ahead! Oh, wait, I have to run it backwards!" She tried to stop the recording and hit Play by accident. "Oh, shit!"
"Hee, hee! Are you a little discombobulated?"
"Oh, shut up!"
"I should've been goddamn grateful I ever got the chance. OK, I am."
"Is that Bean?" May adjusted her headphones.
"Yeah, I think it is." For a moment Rally couldn't recall what this conversation was. "What's he talking about…?"
"I'm never gonna forget what you... I keep thinkin' about how sweet it was. I went and ruined it like the dumb asshole I am."
"Oh." Rally hit Rewind, groaned and put her face in her hands.
"He's apologizing to you for taking the money and calling you a whore." May raised her brows.
"Yes, that's what he was doing! I ripped him a new one and then I forgave him...that's the story of my life where Bean is concerned!"
"You think you're going to forgive him for this one? Describing everything you did with him on the night of the fire, in front of all the guys?"
"I don't know." Rally's face contorted. She pounded on the keys and stopped the rewind. "It made me physically sick. I could have killed him…and I mean that literally. I raced back to the hotel, and if he had been there, I think I would have taken a shot at him! Thank God he had already blown out of there."
"Why did you think he was going to stay? Roy was right down the hall and dying to have him arrested! Say, I was going to ask—was Bean in bad shape the whole time he stayed in your room?"
Rally flushed bright red. "Well, not totally."
"Oh?"
"He, uh, he kissed me right before he split."
"No kidding?" crooned May. "Like a friendly peck on the cheek to say thanks?"
"No…"
"Woohoohoo! So if you hadn't heard the tape, were you going to go back and let him take a shot at you, so to speak?"
"Yes," groaned Rally, head on the keyboard. "Thank God I didn't!"
"Okaay!" May rocked back and smacked her palms together. "You know what, girl? You sound seriously conflicted about this guy."
"Geez, tell me something I don't know!"
"Try it now," said May. "I bet you're in about the right place." Rally played the recording.
The first speaker was Gonzales, sounding as if his voice was coming from a radio. "There's someone approaching in my rear-view, damn fast."
"Dragons?" said Smith, sounding the same way.
"Poor Gonzales…" May sighed and shook her head. "Rest in peace."
"No, it's a black—make that dark blue—some joyrider in an old Corvette."
"Well, let him through. We aren't on traffic detail here."
WHOOOOSH!
"This is it," said Rally. "They are tailing Roy on the decoy operation while I check the addresses to find the Dragon hideout. Gonzales and Bui are in the trailing car, Smith and Wesson are in the middle car, and Roy is out front in my Cobra. They're all in radio contact, but the recorder is in my car. They were fishing for Dragons and hooked Bean instead."
"Man, he's doing about one-twenty—wait a MINUTE!" shouted Smith.
"What? What?" That was Roy, sounding clearer than the first two.
"Coleman, step on it! You've got pursuit!" said Wesson.
"What—who was it?" said Roy.
"I saw that car right when we got started. But he faded back and I didn't give him a thought. He was watching the hotel, sure as shit—"
Roy's voice broke in. "I see him. He's riding up on my ass—"
"Give that fucker the gas! It's BANDIT!"
"What the FUCK!"
"Christ, Coleman, if he thinks it's her driving that car, he's going to—"
"I'm stepping on it! I'm—YOW!"
"Look at that Cobra fly! Yeehaw!" whooped Smith.
"Ack! I think I about snapped my neck!"
"Dig that 429!"
"Pete!"
Roy again. "I'm gaining on him, a little. He's about ten carlengths back and we're both accelerating—I'm doing about one-forty now, oh holy name..."
"We're losing you, can't stay in position. Can't see you now that you passed those trees..."
"If I crash, I'm going to be chunky salsa..."
"Coleman, just hang onto that wheel. It's like driving to Sunday school, only faster."
"Agent Smith, you are no fucking help at all. God, what does this thing top out at?"
"Guess you're going to find out!" Smith laughed. "Man, I wish she'd let ME do the driving!"
"One-fifty-five at least and he's sticking with me. Oh, shit, here's a curve..."
"Don't brake going in! Just take your foot off the gas! Those old cars are easy to lock and spin out."
"You are no fucking help either, Agent Wesson. Aiiigh!" screamed Roy.
"What is it, Coleman?"
"He's right up my tailpipe. One moment he was way back, and then—"
"Can you get any more speed? He may be trying to force you off the road!"
"I'm going faster than I've ever gone in my blessed life. He's still on me!"
"What's he doing? Trying to bump you?"
"No. He's...he just flashed his brights at me. Now he's pointing. Like asking me to pull over. What? He's giving me a peace sign!"
"Sure he isn't flipping you off?"
"He did a 'cross my heart'. Flashing his brights again."
"Can he tell it's you and not her?"
"He's gotta realize she hasn't grown a beard in the last two days! Oh shit...that turn ahead looks wicked..."
"Pull over, Coleman," said Wesson. "We're coming. We might be five-six miles behind you now. Keep the line open."
"No shit. I've got my .38, but that isn't going to stop him unless I get a very lucky shot." Roy could be heard braking and grunting. "I'm aiming for a pullout above a cove. Sign says 'Hazardous Cliffs and Surf'."
"Good. Talk to him. Stall him. Find out what he wants."
A grind and clatter of gravel under the car, and the Cobra came to a stop. The engine still rumbled. Another car braked and a door slammed.
"Keep it right there, Bandit. Hands out to your sides!"
"Where's Rally? Put that damn gun away—I ain't here to fight you."
"I'm keeping it right on your damn nose—"
"Why in hell are you driving her car? She's OK, ain't she?" Bean sounded tense, even worried. "Oh, fucking hell! You ain't going to tell me the Dragons got to her already!"
"And what if they have? You give a good goddamn about that?"
"Hell, Coleman, I'm here, ain't I? WHERE IS SHE!"
"You think I'm going to tell you that? You threatened to KILL her, you piece of SHIT!"
Bean let out a long hiss through his teeth. "She gone to find O'Toole? Or the Dragon HQ?"
Roy's door opened and his shoes hit the gravel. "What the FUCK are you doing here, Bean? Haven't you done enough to her?"
A pause. "What'd she tell you?"
"She doesn't have to tell me anything! I KNOW! Getting her into this mess in the first place, and then running off at the worst possible moment—what the hell made you scamper like that? I never thought you were some kind of paragon, Roadbuster, but I hadn't taken you for a goddamn coward! Leaving a girl to take your murder rap? Where the hell do you keep your balls?"
"It ain't my rap, Coleman. I don't even carry a gun. I just drive, remember?"
"You really don't give a shit about her, do you? You used her for your purposes, used her to get you your ill-earned cash, and maybe even—God! You were about to fool her into thinking you're worth wasting herself on, weren't you? Now at least she knows what a rat's ass you are! I'd almost rather you had some principles, or that you deserved even one of the looks I've seen her give you. What a waste of her affection—"
"Of her affection?" Bean spat. "You joking?"
"You piece of shit, you didn't even know it, did you?" Roy's voice trembled and cracked with anger. "Or did you? I could tell the moment I saw the two of you together! She liked you a whole hell of a lot better than any man deserves, and YOU could only take advantage—"
"Man, you serious?"
"Do I sound like I'm trying to pull your leg? You unmitigated asshole!"
"GODDAMMIT, COLEMAN!" Bean roared. "You want to know why I took off? Because when I found that suitcase I thought she'd hated me every damn minute I'd been with her! I couldn't figure out what the hell she thought of me and I was hoping it wasn't as bad as the names she calls me! She gives me the eye and then she keeps threatening to blow my head off—"
"I goddamn well wish she had! You trying to claim you're in LOVE with her? What a LAUGH!"
"Oh, God!" whispered Rally, heart beating rapidly as she listened.
"Claim nothin'! I came back here for HER! Will ya listen to me? There ain't no other woman—"
"SHUT UP!" Roy's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "If you feed her that line, I will personally come after you with the full weight of the Chicago blue, and let me tell you, Bean, up 'til now you have been lucky and that is all. Percy's been on your ass in his abundant spare time, but he's an incompetent hothead. I am not. You try to jerk her around, and I will have your scalp nailed to the door of City Hall inside of a month. Try me."
"What the hell is up your ass, Detective? I come back here to cover my obligations and all you can do is point a gun at me? Listen, I need to KNOW WHERE SHE IS! I know she didn't take that dough, but the Dragons think she's got it, and ol' 426 is real upset about his boy Huang. If she's operating on her own, I gotta go back her up before it's too LATE!"
Roy cocked his .38. "That girl's precious. She is not for the likes of you. I am not going to let you hurt her again."
"Hah! So that's it. Don't want her knowing I keep my promises, copper?"
"Shut up! You arrogant asshole—you KNOW what you've done, and you think she's going to do anything but SPIT on you? It was as obvious as the jaw on your face, you criminal slime!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Roy took a deep, furious breath. "You RAPED her when you found that money! DIDN'T YOU!"
"Oh, boy," remarked May. "I'm afraid it was kind of my fault he thought that!"
"Geez…" muttered Rally, snuggling the headphones closer to her ears and straining to hear every word.
A trembling, volcanic silence. A seagull screeched and a car passed on the nearby road.
"Is...that..." Bean sounded like he was being strangled with wire. "Is that...what she told you?"
"She didn't HAVE to tell me! May figured it out from the evidence you left in the car, and I KNOW your filthy kind!"
"...Figured...evidence?" A loud thump, as if someone had stumbled heavily against the side of a vehicle. "She said—?"
"It was OBVIOUS! You hit her so hard you stunned her and then you held her down and assaulted her in her own car! THIS car! She's covered with bruises and scrapes and every time your NAME gets mentioned, she shakes! I'm a COP! I've seen it a thousand times! The worst thing a man can do to a woman! I KNOW you raped her! God knows what else—"
"No—wait—did she TELL you that? Did she s-say that's what I did?" Bean sounded bewildered and aghast, his voice shaking.
"YES, SHE TOLD ME!" screamed Roy with a note of hysterical certainty. "Finally got caught, huh? How many other poor girls have you inflicted yourself on, big man?"
"Oh, NO!" gasped Rally, clapping a hand over her wide-open mouth.
"Uh-oh." May seemed to remember something. "I don't think he's going to take that very well…"
"Oh...shit..." Bean took a deep gulping breath, almost a sob. "Rally..."
"What's with the kicked-in-the-balls act? You pathetic coward, that's even worse than I took you—AAAGGHH!" POW! Roy's revolver discharged and there was another loud thump and scuffling noises.
"OH FUCK—you're going to break my wrist—OH BLESSED JESUS! HEEEELP!"
Rally leaped up. "What's he doing to Roy?"
"Threatening to throw him over the edge, according to Smith. Bean must have hoisted him up and dangled him over the cliff." May looked at her. "Calm down, girl. This happened three days ago, and Roy's fine!"
"NO—oh, please, God, no!" Roy whimpered. "I've got a wife and three dogs—"
"You answer one question before I throw you to the seagulls, Coleman. WHERE IS SHE?"
Roy gasped twice. "Never. I'll never tell you where to find her. Go ahead and toss me over the edge! There's two carloads of FBI agents right around the bend. At least that way they'll have you dead to rights. Here they come, cop killer! You know they've repaired the gas chamber at San Quentin?"
Two more sets of tires screeched to a halt on the road, car doors banging open. "Put him down! Move away from the edge, Bandit!" Smith roared. "You see this twelve-gauge?" A shotgun pumped and three automatics cocked."I can take your fucking head off with one fucking buck load! Move-away-from-Coleman! GET THEM UP!"
"Fine." A body thumping on gravel, and a whimper of relief. Apparently Bean had dumped Roy on the ground. "If she's gettin' sliced up by the Dragons, you can rest easy knowing I didn't use my filthy hands to help her!"
"What?" said Rally in confusion. "He still wants to rescue me?"
"I said GET THEM UP! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
"You got to be Smith. Look, they're up. I ain't got a gun."
"He's not even trying to escape," said May, equally surprised. "Man!"
"Drop and spread 'em!"
"Now that's where I draw the line. Coleman, you listen—"
"I will shoot, Bandit. I'm fucking SERIOUS—"
"PUT A LID ON IT, SMITH! I'm tryin' to carry on a conversation here!"
"...Well, ain't HE got muy cojones..." muttered Gonzales.
"Get one damn thing straight, Coleman! I…DIDN'T…RAPE…HER! If she said that, she's a goddamn two-faced—OK, I admit she's got a right to be pissed off at me! But not because I screwed her that night!"
"What?"
Smith spoke again. "Wesson, get him cuffed—Gonzales, you and Bui cover the bastard. Remember, that jacket's Level III-A resistant or better. Get your piece, Coleman!"
"Here's your damn gun. Pick it up!" A kick and a skidding sound. "I busted her cherry right in the front seat of that Cobra. By REQUEST! Going to shoot me for it? I doubt the Feds will stop you!"
The sliding click of handcuffs, first on one wrist, then the other. "Get him down on the car hood. Here, take this and cover him—I'll frisk him." A thump and rustling of clothing and zippers. "Christ, look at this pigsticker. Wesson, check that 'Vette."
Bean laughed with a queer edge, muffled against bodywork. "Still wondering where I keep my balls, Detective? Right where they belong."
"I...I don't believe you—"
"Yeah? Which part don't you believe? Either I did her or I didn't, huh?"
"If you did, you limb of Satan, it has to have been by force—"
"Fortune cookies?" said Wesson in snide amusement, crumpling a bag.
"Yer drivin' in circles, dude. She liked me too much, so I had to beat her up to stick it to her? Yeah, sure. She wasn't just willing. She was crawling all over me and BEGGIN' me for it!" The raw edge to Bean's voice had intensified.
Rally stopped the recording, her face flaming. "Oh, boy! This is the part Wesson played to me! Maybe I should just fast-forward—"
"No way! I want to hear this!" May fought her to press the Play key.
"May, listening to this with Wesson in the room was the most embarrassing thing I've ever gone through in my life! If you are going to sit there and giggle while Bean's in front of five men describing having sex with me, I'm going to DIE, you understand?"
May looked at her with an expression that smacked of reproof. "Give me a little credit, huh? I actually know when to be serious…even when Bean's blabbing about how hot you are in bed, sweetie!"
"Aigghh!"
"Relax. Try to listen to this with a fresh ear. Wasn't that the whole point of doing this?"
"I guess it was." Rally clenched her jaw. "OK, roll it. I can take it."
May started the recording again.
"You lying bastard—"
"Gospel truth, Coleman. She wanted it bad and I let her have what she wanted. I played it cool for a while and then I jumped her. She got down on her knees to pray and it took me only half a minute to baptize her tonsils. I spewed like a fountain, man, and she swallowed! She was afraid I'd shot my whole wad—not a chance, not with that randy lady pantin' for more! So I finger-fucked her and I ate her out—man, she's a sweet screamer—and then I rammed it so far up her juicy little pussy she was thinking she had a stuffy nose."
Someone coughed and cleared his throat simultaneously, and someone else whistled low. "Shut up..." moaned Roy. "If you've got any sense of honor..."
"Oh, yeah. But I ain't in love with her, AM I? What a hot little angel she is, and it was only her first time. A fuckin' heavenly lay, lemme tell ya. Great bod, gorgeous tits, and does she love cock!"
"Wow," said May. "He's really on a roll!"
"Oh, my God…!" moaned Rally. Lacking context, she had missed the real emotion in this diatribe. "He thought I'd lied to Roy! He wasn't bragging—he was FURIOUS! He had to force Roy to listen to him SOMEHOW, and he went off the deep end!"
"Yeah, I guess he did. I know he doesn't like being accused of things like that!"
"Stop! Shut your vile mouth! How can you say this in front of them!"
"You oughta see her eyes light up when she gets a look at a—well, at mine, anyway! No, she never let ol' Coleman into her drawers, did she? That what's really eating you?"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! That girl's like a daughter to me—!"
"Yeah, I knew a guy used to mess with his daughter." Bean laughed with a coarse snigger. "Though he don't do it any more since I found out! Well, lucky for you, you ain't her dad, copper, but you ain't ever going to pick that sweet dark cherry, 'cause I got there first!"
"Why would he hate an accusation of rape so much?" said Rally. "I mean, of course he'd be angry, but why THIS angry? And what is this crap all about? Why was he bragging about—"
"Your virginity? He does keep mentioning that, doesn't he?"
"No kidding! He brought it up to me a couple of times too—has he got some kind of complex, or…"
"You know what, Ral?" May paused the recording. "Didn't Brown say something about how you must have had a lot of opportunities? The cream of the crop? I know that's true! But you turned everyone down flat—no matter who, even a great guy like Larry Sam or a handsome bastard like Brown. You chose Bean Bandit, and he doesn't know why."
Did she know why herself? Rally remained silent, her face scarlet.
"Frankly, it seems like it was a little much for him—you told me he stopped the first time when you told him you were a virgin. He didn't think you really meant to give him something…so priceless, and that you might regret it. He wouldn't take it. It was too much of a responsibility."
"Responsibility?" echoed Rally.
"Uh-huh." May nodded. "If you'd kept it that long, it wasn't something you treated lightly, and obviously he's not the kind to take it lightly either. I guess that's why he needed a lot of convincing the night it happened."
"He said he was thinking that it was nothing but trouble…"
"I can see why he'd think so! But he eventually decided not to waste the opportunity, or he was just overcome—any man might have been, and a man who cares about you the way he does…well, as I said, I'd bet the earth moved!"
"B-but what did it mean to him?" Rally bit her lips so hard that they stung.
"Just listen to him. Get beyond the dirty words and the fact he's rubbing Roy's nose in it, and LISTEN to him!" May started the recording again.
"KEEP YOUR FILTHY MOUTH OFF HER! HOW DARE YOU! I'm going to KILL YOU!"
"Why? 'Cause you know I'm tellin' the truth? I wasn't the one who started it, but I got to say I didn't mind gettin' the invite! She told me to fuck her good, and I fucked her real good! I worked it hard in that slick box—she's so nice an' tight I was seein' crosseyed, but I kept it going 'til she sang like a choir, and she was prayin' for more! I gave her all the cock she ever dreamed of gettin'! Took it on top, took it on the bottom, wrigglin' and humpin' all the way—"
"Yee-owza," said Smith.
"Pete, you coarse…" spluttered Rally.
"Well, you did say he was fantastic," grinned May.
"Does EVERYONE have to know it? Arrgh!"
"God damn you to hell..." Roy cried.
"Oh, I was in fuckin' paradise. I thought my cock was gonna explode and my head along with it. Never got so blue-steel rigid in my life, I don't think, and that sweet lady drove me out've my fuckin' mind. And somewhere in the middle of it, I got kinda drunk on...her, and when it was over, I made a twenty-four-carat FOOL of myself slobberin' all over her! Then I got the biggest kick in the balls I ever got in my life and I said some really stupid things and I took off. That's all. Do I make my point? Or did ya want some corroboratin' DETAILS?"
"Get him out of my sight," said Roy, sobbing. "Before I forget I'm a cop."
"What's that got to do with it? If you ain't shot me already, it ain't because you wear a badge."
"Well, now." May pressed the pause key again. "Doesn't that answer your question?"
"It does? Uh, well, maybe, but it's so CRUDE!"
"Oh, girl…" sighed May.
"I know, I know—he just TALKS like that! I told him—"
"He talks like what?" May leaned forward and looked her in the face. "He tells you how wonderful you made him feel? He tells you how helpless he was to resist you? You loved it with him, you let him know it, and because of that he…" May closed her eyes for a moment, apparently deeply moved, and Rally looked at her in confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
"God, girl! I can't translate this word for word! It's plain four-letter Anglo-Saxon English! You have to understand it for yourself or you're not even going to believe anything I might tell you, OK? I think we'd better listen to the rest..."
"I don't know why," said Roy, his voice thick with tears. "After hearing that filthy little story, I want to kill you right now. For robbing and defiling that precious girl you aren't worthy to raise your eyes to, and for throwing it in my face like that, you inhuman incubus."
"What the fuck is that?"
"A limb of Satan. But I am going to take you down right, Bandit. You're going to regret what you just said to me. I am going to let her know just what you are and why I know it, and then she is going to help me get that scalp. You seem awfully proud of that head of hair. I'll see you with a prison shave yet."
"Oh, I get it now," said Bean with a long, breathy laugh. "She never told ya no such thing! Imagined it all by yourself, hey? You tellin' me I got a filthy mind, copper?"
"Uhh... Put Bandit in the car, Gonzales," said Wesson.
"Not before Coleman tells me where the hell she's gone! I happen to know the Dragons are layin' for her."
"What, you're working for them now?" said Roy. "That doesn't surprise me one--"
"Hey," said Smith, his voice harsh. "ARE you working for them now? That half-million was your signing bonus?"
"Not in a thousand years, Fed. How the hell did you know what they said to me in Vegas? Hey, Coleman! Rally may be a cat, but she ain't got nine lives. Are you gonna let me help her, or is she going home in a box?"
"In case you hadn't noticed, Bandit, you're under ARREST!" sneered Wesson.
"So fucking what?" said Bean.
"Hey!" shouted Gonzales. "He broke the cuffs!" The shotgun went off, and a confused welter of sound scraped and pounded at the microphone. "Ohhh fuck—shoot, dammit! Shoot!" A staccato crackle of semi-automatics broke off into yelling and loud thumps, punctuated by rattling gravel.
"The shotgun's gone over the edge—" KRAK KRAK KRAK!
"Here's the carbine—AAGGHH!"
"Watch it, he got his knife!"
"Don't kill them!" howled Roy. "You're CRAZY!" BOOM! Glass broke.
"Oh God oh god oh god..." KRAK KRAK SMAASSHH!
"Kill him, fucking KILL HIM! OWWW!"
"Ahhggkk!"
"Aiiigghhh...oh Christ it hurts..."
"Goddammit, Bui, you shot my fucking WINDSHIELD out!" yelled Smith."What the hell do you think you're—ow—doing, you can't get away with this—stop slashing my TIRES! That's a Bureau car—!"
"I'm leavin'. Call a fuckin' tow truck, why don't you?" Moans of pain, loud and soft, from several voices. "One more chance, Coleman. Where is she, before I tear the whole town apart lookin'?"
Roy made no sound other than half-sobs of breath.
"Rather see her dead than thinking I ain't a limb of Satan? Fine, suit yourself." A scrape of boot on gravel and the sound of a car door opening.
"Goddammit," Roy gasped. "She's looking for the Dragon HQ. Checking out addresses in the business district. I don't know where she is right now, because she hasn't called."
"Did she get anything from Sam?"
"Larry Sam? No. You know he's in the hospital and his place is all shot up?"
"No. But it don't surprise me. Well, thanks for nothing. I got to make me a phone call..."
"Whatever you've got! You're going to have to hurry."
"No shit." Bean's door slammed and the Corvette ground out to the road, then roared away.
"What the hell did you just tell him?" groaned Smith. "Did you tell that fuckwad where to find her? What the hell did you do that for, Coleman?"
"God help me," said Roy, almost inaudibly. "I just begged Bean Bandit to save that girl's life. Oh, God help me…"
"We're going to die," said Agent Bui.
"No, we're not," said Larry stubbornly. "Rally Vincent is going to rescue us."
"I saw my partner die," said Bui in a hollow tone. "Gonzales. He took a long time to die. 426 tortured him to death."
"Oh, my God," said Larry, squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to shift on the broken concrete to find a more comfortable position, but since the two of them were tied back to back, he could barely move.
"I was put on the shock bed too. But he didn't want to kill me. He said I was the spare and he'd keep me alive for now. Ronnie was tortured instead, because he wasn't Asian. He's dead because he's not Asian. I don't think that's fair."
"Hell no, it's not fair. But it's not your fault, Bui. It's 426's."
"Is she really going to rescue us? What time is it?"
"I think it's morning," said Larry, squinting up at a narrow shaft of sunlight that had broken through the roof. "It's early Monday morning, July 12."
"I ought to be at work. I'm going to be late."
"Tell me about it," sighed Larry. "Look, Bui, try to sleep or something, OK? Everything's going to be all right."
"I don't want to die," said Agent Bui.
"Rally Vincent," said Larry. "Think about Rally Vincent."
"Trust me, she's on me mind every wakin' moment," said a voice out of the darkness, accompanied by a creaking noise and a laugh. "And in me best dreams, she's screamin' me name with all her heart and I've got her brown nigger titties spitted on me knife, along with both her pretty eyeballs."
"Silence," said 426 with an air of infinite patience.
