Chapter 3: Not What It Seems
On board the Bebop Spike and Jet sat in the lounge, sulking. Their injuries turned out to be less severe then originally thought. Spike had several bruised ribs and his jaw had swelled up. Jet's back was a mass of bruises and was speaking in a hoarse voice because of bruising on his throat. To be beaten was one thing. To be beaten by one guy who wasn't even trying, that was embarrassing. They were discussing if they should go after the mystery bounty again when the door hissed open and Faye walked in carrying several large bags.
"While you two were sitting on your butts all day I actually …." She stopped as Jet and Spike glared at her and she saw their bruised faces. "What happened to you guys?"
"We ran into some trouble." Spike answered.
"Looks more like trouble ran into you." Faye replied. Jet grumbled something and Spike shot her a nasty look, knowing how right she was. "Well while you two were busy getting your asses handed to you I managed to find a prime bounty, worth three million." Spike and Jet exchanged looks.
"This bounty," Jet said. "wouldn't happen to have brown hair, be about six foot eight and built like a tank would he?" Faye gave him a surprised look.
"That's right. How'd you know that?"
"Because he's the one that, as you put it, handed our asses to us." Spike said. "This guy is a lot stronger then you'd think, and there's something else you should know about him."
"What? The body armor he wears?" Now it was Jet and Spike's turn to looked surprised.
"And how did you know about that?" Jet asked.
"The same way I found out about the bounty." Faye answered. "I was having a drink when someone told me that a new bounty had shown up. He said that in addition to the bounty he offered a bonus if I agreed to take it. So I did, they even told me where and when to find him. I just came back to drop off a few things then collect the easiest three million I've ever seen."
"You're going after him alone?" Jet asked.
"That's right." Faye answered as she checked her handgun.
"Then you know that he won't even feel that." Spike said, pointing at her gun.
"That's why on my way back I got this." Faye responded. She reached into one of the bags and brought out a sawed off shotgun.
"Nice try Faye but he's about as likely to feel that buckshot as he was to feel that bullet Spike put into him."
"That's why I did my homework." Faye replied, smiling. She took a small box out of the bag and tossed it to Jet, who examined it.
"Slug ammo?" Jet said. Faye nodded and smiled again. Instead of being hit with numerous, small lead pellets the person would be hit by several lead slugs the size of a thirty-eight-caliber bullet.
"Even someone wearing the best body armor is going to feel that." Faye said confidently. She took the box back, opened it and began loading the shotgun. Because it was cut down it would only take five shells. She pumped the gun, chambering a round, and inserted another shell, bringing the total up to six. She put the gun into one of her larger bags, effectively hiding it. She then took a handful of extra shells and put them into her pockets.
"You want backup on this?" Spike asked.
"Not a chance." Faye replied. "You big tough bounty hunters had your chance and you blew it. This three million is all mine." Spike and Jet watched her leave.
"Think we should follow her?" Jet asked. Spike shook his head.
"If she thinks she can do this let her. She can't do any worse then we did."
An hour later saw Faye walking into Red Eyes, one of the many dives in the city. It was a small bar and almost empty when she got there. Just some regulars sitting at the counter, one slumped over onto it. She got whistles from the ones still sober enough to see straight but ignored them and approached the bartender.
"Evening Miss." He said in a friendly tone. "Don't get many people who look like you in this place. What can I get you tonight?" Faye smiled.
"Just a beer." The bartender nodded and gave her one. "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend here and I was wondering if he had arrived yet. Big guy, with brown hair, you can't miss him." The bartender shook his head.
"Sorry Miss but I haven't seen him."
"Oh that's alright." Faye assured him. "I'll just wait." She went over to a booth and sat down, setting her bag within easy reach. She checked her watch. Eight fifteen, if her contact was right he should be here in fifteen minutes. About ten minutes later a man in a wrinkled suit and disheveled face stumbled in, obviously drunk.
"Hey Mike." The bartender said. "Rough night?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." Mike answered. "Give me the usual." He moaned and clutched his stomach. "Be right back." He said as he rushed to the bathroom. The bartender shook his head and laughed.
"What's his problem?" Faye asked.
"Been down on his luck lately." He looked around to make sure no one was listening that shouldn't be. "You know that Blue Snakes building that exploded the other day." Faye nodded. "Well he used to work there. Money laundering I hear. If he hadn't been here getting wasted he would have been blown to kingdom come with the rest of those poor saps. In fact…." The bartender stopped as he heard the door open. He and Faye looked and saw a large man in a trenchcoat enter. Seeing his picture was one thing, seeing him in person, that was another. His size and air that he carried himself with told everybody around not to mess with him or they would be very sorry. He said nothing and looked at the patrons. Not finding what he was looking for he walked up to the bar.
"I am looking for Michael Jones. Is he here?" The man said with no preamble. The bartender seemed stunned at the man's bluntness and Faye decided to make her move. Deciding to try cunning instead of force she walked up beside the stranger.
"Hey stranger. I don't think I've ever seen you around before." She said in her sexiest voice. The man's head turned, almost seemed to swivel, in her direction, which Faye found slightly unnerving. He looked her up and down.
"I am here on important business." The man responded emotionlessly. "I do not have time to consort with prostitutes." The bartender snickered and one of the drunks started laughing. Faye was furious about the remark but what enraged her was blunt and deadpan way he had said it.
"AND JUST WHAT THE HELL MADE YOU THINK I WAS A PROSTITUTE!?!?!" She roared. The bartender and the drunks cringed at the outburst but the man's face remained impassive.
"Your cloths, your mannerisms. All are consistent with women who prostitute themselves." He said in the same voice that sounded almost like a recording. He sounded like he was describing characteristics of a car! The bartender was now laughing and the drunks were roaring. Faye's face had turned solid red and her eye began to dangerously twitch. Everyone in the room could tell what was about to happen and backed up, still laughing, except the man who just continued with his alert but blank stare. Temporarily forgetting why she was there Faye wound up and slapped the man as hard as she could. Not only did the man not react to the slap but her palm was really starting to sting.
"Pig." She mumbled under her breath as she massaged her hand to get some feeling back into it.
"For your own safety do not do that again." The man warned. Faye turned another shade of red and was about to do a great impersonation of a volcano when the men's room door opened and Mike came stumbling out. The man turned, forgetting about Faye, to see what had caused the noise.
"Michael Jones?" He asked.
"Yeah. What of it?!" Mike answered in an alcohol-induced haze. As soon as those words left Mike's mouth the stranger reached into his coat and pulled out a very large handgun that Faye recognized. It was a Desert Eagle, fifty-caliber. A hand cannon by anyone's account. Normally guys who carried that gun were just trying to show how macho they could be when they really weren't. Not this guy, unlike everybody else she had seen he looked like he could actually use it. As he took aim Mike stood still like a deer in headlights. A loud roar came from the gun and a portion of Mike's head was blown away. He dropped to the floor, dead before he had even hit it. The action had taken everyone, including Faye, by surprise. Slowly she worked her way to her bag so she could grab her shotgun.
"Nobody saw anything here." The man stated. "If you go to the police or try to follow me you will receive the same. Is that understood?" He set his dead stare on everyone individually until he got a yes from all of them. No one was willing to say no after he had just killed a man without blinking. Faye faked being sick so she would be able to grab the shotgun without being conspicuous. He took her getting sick as an affirmative. The man lowered the gun to his side but did not put it back in his coat. He then turned and started to walk out as casually as if nothing had happened. With his back turned to her she took out the shotgun, set her feet and aimed in one fluid motion.
"Hold it right there asshole!" She commanded. The man froze in his tracks and Faye wasn't about to question why he decided to obey. "I'm not some hooker, I'm a bounty hunter and you just happen to be my next paycheck! So just turn around and drop your gun!!" The man did turn, so quickly Faye almost lost her concentration. He did not, however, drop his gun. He glanced at the shotgun Faye had pointed at him then back at her face. What he did next was unheard of. He didn't curse her or insult her; he didn't say anything. The silence made Faye nervous and her fears were justified. The man calmly raised his pistol but before he could get it into firing position Faye, out of reflex, squeezed the shotgun's trigger. The man jerked back as the blast hit him in the chest but he didn't lose his balance or his gun. In fact he again raised his gun and tried to get a shot. Faye pumped the handle and fired again, this time forcing the man to step backwards but he still would not go down. Again Faye pumped and fired. This time the blast lifted him off his feet and into the door, tearing it off its hinges. The man landed on his back and remained motionless. Inside Faye exhaled loudly, thinking the excitement over.
"Nice shooting Miss." Faye turned and saw the bartender brandishing his own shotgun taken from underneath the counter. "Sure was a tough bastard wasn't he?"
"Almost too tough." Faye answered. This wasn't right, the man should have been dropped by one blast at close range even if he was wearing steel plates. But he had taken three blasts from almost point blank range and had barely gone down. While Faye was puzzling over this the drunks wandered over to the man's prone form and began to examine it.
"Sure took a licking didn't he?" One slurred. They failed to notice that the man's fingers were twitching and his other hand still held his pistol.
"Yep." The other one agreed. He then pointed at the areas hit by the shotgun slugs. "Hey would you get a load of this. It looks like…. " The drunk never got a chance to say what he saw as the man grabbed his throat with his free hand and crushed it like a straw. The drunk fell to the ground, clutching his throat and desperately trying to inhale. His face began to turn blue and he went limp as his oxygen-starved brain gave out. The other three drunks stepped back cautiously as the man got to his feet, none the worse for ware after his experience. The drunks turned around and began running. The man raised his gun and fired three quick shots. All three of the drunks fell and did not move. As this was happening Faye and the bartender stood frozen in wonder and horror as the man that should have been too wounded to sit let alone stand up, get to his feet acting like he had never been shot in the first place. Faye also noticed something else. The front of the man's coat had blood all over it. That meant he wasn't wearing any armor!! But that was impossible! If he wasn't wearing any armor he should be dead. What scared her the most was the man's face was still blank. It didn't register pain, fear, or even anger over shot. She had no time to think about that as the man swung his pistol back towards her, it's barrel seemed to become as large a train tunnel. Before the man had a chance to fire he jerked back again as the bartender's shotgun roared.
"MURDERING BASTARD!!" He shouted as he advanced, rapidly pumping and firing. The bartender forced the man into the middle of the street and was about to shoot him again when the pump on the shotgun slid back and locked. The bartender looked down at his now empty weapon and then back up at the man, who was steadying himself. Before he could fire Faye stepped forward and fired, knocking the man back further but he remained on his feet. She pumped and fired again but the man still wouldn't drop. As she chambered her last shell she had a decision to make, to kill the man or risk him surviving another blast to the chest.
[Screw that!! There'll always be other bounties.] She told herself. She set her feet and took careful aim. The shotgun again roared and the man's head snapped to one side but he remained standing. She had only grazed him. [How?!? I had him dead in my sights!!] The man turned his head back and she found out, to her horror, that she hadn't missed. The slugs had struck the side of the man's head and ripped the skin almost clean off, but the skull was still intact. What was exposed still had blood on it but Faye could see the gleam of a bluish metal. What happened next almost made her faint. The man nonchalantly reached up to the mangled flesh that was around his left eye, grabbed a handful of it and tore it off, not showing any emotion as he did. Beneath the ruined skin was an eye, not a human eye but a glowing red eye that had all the life of a camera lens. The inhuman way it focused on Faye made her more afraid then she had ever been her entire life.