Session Twenty Eight

Leon stood on the balcony overlooking Tharsis. He'd been left to himself after Villanova talked to him yesterday. Although he'd scoured his room several times, he hadn't been able to find any of the cameras Draugh alleged. Despite that, he felt watched - like a bird in a gilded cage, a curiosity, a prize. He hadn't seen Villanova or Draugh today and there was only one guard posted outside his room. The guard didn't seem to care if Leon left his room. He'd ventured out on three different occasions to explore. He spent a good bit of time in the library reading about the history of the Dragon, especially Yenrai's days and any mention he could find of his father. He'd been surprised to find there wasn't much on Spike, but most of what he did find spoke of him favorably - as one of the Dragon's best men, right beside Vicious. However, a later addition to some of the history, probably on Villanova's authority, painted Spike as a demon, hell-bent on destruction.

He'd gone lower in the Tower, but eventually he'd reached a floor where he'd been met by a couple of security guards and escorted back to his room. He ventured out again and tried to go up to the fifteenth floor, but he'd been met by guards again. And the one time he'd gotten within ten feet of an outside door, he'd been set upon by about eight armed guards in body armor. After that, he stayed in his room, mostly pacing. An orderly had delivered food to him throughout the day, and he'd taken his dinner out on the balcony to eat. He knew he was probably still being watched by Dragon cameras, but at least out here he felt like he could think without being overheard. The remains of dinner sat on his plate behind him and he stood at the rail, wishing for a cigarette. He still had his lighter, but no one bothered to leave him anything to light with it.

The sun was setting behind the skyline in a brilliant display of color. Flashes of liquid gold ran down the sides of the towering Tharsis skyscrapers. Blood-red fingers of light reached through the buildings and Leon shivered, feeling like they were reaching for him. He looked down as he felt the beginnings of a headache center around his right eye again. His headache had come and gone throughout the day, aggravated by sudden changes in light or his position. And while he no longer felt like puking every time he turned around, he still felt like his balance was off if he moved too fast.

He frowned as he watched people hurry by eleven stories below. This far up, they were hardly more than dots on the pavement. He doubted they'd even see him if they looked up. How many times had he walked by the buildings like this and never looked up? How many buildings had he walked by with someone like him standing on the balcony, wishing they were anywhere but here? Leon chuckled. If he'd looked up at a building like this a few months ago - when he was living on his own, stretching his money between bounties - he would assume that anybody in it was happy and rich and content. He definitely wouldn't think that they were a prisoner standing so close to freedom they could taste it, but too far away to reach it.

Leon slammed his hand into the balcony railing with a curse. He shook his head and cradled his hand as the railing resisted in the usual metal fashion. The only way out of this whole mess that he could see was down. A quick jump over the railing, a few heart-stopping seconds of free-fall, and one bone-shattering impact on the street below. It was the only sure way to stop the Dragon from killing him first. But the idea repulsed him. If he jumped, he'd be giving up. If he jumped, he'd be turning his back on the Bebop. If he jumped, Villanova would get the death she wanted. And he had no doubt she'd be just as thrilled to show the Syndicates his dead body as she was to present him alive and then kill him.

Jumping meant admitting defeat. And, much as he didn't want to admit it, he was his father's son. Defeat just didn't run in his blood. He'd be damned if he let Villanova win this one without a fight. Besides, Jet was smart. He'd expect Villanova to lay a trap for him. He'd come prepared, maybe he'd even call ISSP in on this one. Maybe...maybe...maybe. Everything was so unsure. Was this how Spike felt before he fought the Syndicate? Leon thought he was beginning to understand why Spike did it. But God, did it have to be so confusing?

Leon sighed and hung his head. His headache had increased to a steady pound again, and his right hand throbbed from where he'd slammed it into the railing. He closed his eyes. The stabbing pain on the right side of his skull lessened somewhat. He needed answers. He needed some sort of assurance that somebody...anybody...was coming for him.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the street again. A flash of white caught his eye and he casually followed it as it traveled down the street, absently wishing he could see it better. At about the same moment, he felt a twitch in his right eye and suddenly he was looking at the world through an overlay, like he was watching a HUD on a phone or computer. He grabbed the balcony railing to keep his balance and covered his left eye so he wouldn't get conflicting images. As he followed the flash of white on the street, his vision zoomed in like a camera, until he could see a woman in a flowing, glittering white pantsuit, her arm wrapped though the arm of a young man in a pinstripe suit with a matching fedora. Despite the blond wig and the beauty mark painted on her face, Leon recognized the woman.

Faye!

Leon did a double take. He felt his heart pound in his chest and took a couple deep breaths. What was Faye doing at the Dragon Tower? And why the heck did this eye act like a sniper's scope? He watched Faye for a few moments longer, then he blinked and the overlay was gone and his vision returned to normal. Leon sat down in a nearby chair, feeling a little unsteady. He blinked a few times and waited until his heart stopped racing. Then he looked up at a building across the way and he concentrated on a flag hanging off its top floor. He thought about wanting to see it better and again, something triggered his right eye and he found himself with a close-up view of the flag. Leon blinked and the binocular vision disappeared. Why would the Dragon give him such an obvious tactical advantage? Then again, he chuckled darkly, he didn't see how enhanced vision was going to get him out of this mess.

His thoughts strayed back to Faye and he wondered for the second time what she was doing here. Did this mean she was part of a rescue? Was she trying to make up for her behavior at the casino? Leon shuddered as a worse thought suddenly struck him. Or did this mean she was actually working for the Dragon? She'd seemed very upset back at the casino, but maybe that was just because Ed had became a casualty. Did she really care about the Bebop crew? Jet had eluded to a rocky past with Faye on more than one occasion, but Leon never did get full details out of him. Just how deep did her loyalties lie? And on whose side?

Leon staggered back to the railing and looked down, but he didn't see the tell-tale flash of white this time. He thought about magnifying the street and summoned his eagle-vision again, desperately scanning the street below for any sign of Faye or her companion. But the only thing he succeeded in was spiking his headache as his enhanced vision blurred images in an attempt to keep up with his frantic searching. Leon blinked and sank to the floor of the balcony, his back to the short wall that ran around it's edge. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him, wishing he had more answers than questions for once in his life.

Faye took a deep breath and walked down the street towards the Dragon tower. It wasn't like she hadn't done this kind of mission before. In fact, she'd often gone into crime nests in disguise. Granted, the amount of times she'd also been found out was fairly high. But at least there was no Vicious this time. Faye gave a brief shudder. Her companion, a young ISSP officer who'd managed to infiltrate the Tiger's highest ranks, gave her a concerned look. Faye shook her head and gave him a smile.

"If you say so," he said, brown eyes watching her closely from under the brim of his fedora.

"I do," Faye murmured, turning on all her feminine charm.

He focused on the street again, but not before Faye caught his appreciative once-over. Faye chuckled. She was probably close to ten years older than the young officer (30 if you counted her time in deep-freeze), but it was somewhat satisfying to know she hadn't lost her charm.

But despite any attraction he might find in Faye, Jet had been right when he'd pegged the young ISSP officer as a sharp one. After calling an another favor with Bob, he'd gotten in touch with the officer, Malcolm Redd, for help in rescuing Leon. As it turned out, Malcolm owed Bob a favor or two, having had his humble beginnings in Bob's Ganymede ISSP division. On Bob's recommendation, the boy had been promoted and moved to Tharsis and from there, he'd been sent to infiltrate the White Tiger Syndicate, in a somewhat weak attempt to eradicate Syndicate activity. He'd managed to work himself into the good graces of the Tiger higher-ups, and now held a position as one of the mob bosses in the Tiger Syndicate. Which meant he knew about the Dragon gathering and he'd been invited. ISSP naturally, told him to go, because, as it turned out, they were hoping to set a potential sting on this gathering of the Syndicates. And when Jet told Bob about what had happened to Leon, Bob suggested they get in touch with Tharsis ISSP to see about a partnership.

As it turned out, ISSP was slightly less enthusiastic about the situation than Bob thought. They weren't really setting up a sting, more like a surveillance mission, but they didn't have any problem with Faye tagging along as Malcolm's plus one. And they had promised that they'd be around for backup should the opportunity to catch the Syndicates present itself, but Faye wasn't holding out hope.

Malcolm, on the other hand, seemed like he'd probably be good for his word and get her into the Dragon's event without a hitch. So, she found herself draped on his arm in the midst of a group of White Tiger cronies, heading into the one place she vowed she'd never set foot, to rescue the son of the man she swore she'd never forgive. Not once in a million years. Well, everything happens at least once in a million years, doesn't it? Faye reflected ruefully. Why did it all have to happen now? Faye sighed. Her life was just one big coincidental mess - circumstances that never happened to anybody happened to her all the time. But Jet was right. She was responsible for the consequences of those circumstances she tipped with her own hand, whether she'd intended those consequences from the beginning or not. And Leon was in Dragon hands as a direct result of her actions, so it was only fair that she lent a hand in getting him out.

You know, Spike, she thought, looking up at the brilliantly setting sun. If you're out there, watching, somewhere, I hope you see what I'm about to do for your son. Maybe then, you'll see me as more than just a selfish gambler with a big mouth and a habit of hanging you out to dry when the going got tough. Maybe then, you'll see me more like her.

"Faye."

She felt a gentle elbow in her ribs and suddenly realized that Malcolm had called her name a few times now.

"Faye."

"Hmm?" Faye looked back over at Malcolm, her vision somewhat dazzled by the last of the sun's rays.

"What are you doing, daydreaming?" Malcolm asked.

"Something like that," Faye admitted as she realized that they stood at the front steps of the Dragon tower.

"Well keep your wits about you, darling," he said, gesturing up at the Dragon tower. "Because tonight, we're sleeping in the Dragon's lair."

Faye resisted the urge to crane her neck and look up at the tower. Instead, she settled on looking a fraction bored, as she expected a rival Syndicate's girlfriend probably would be. She giggled coquettishly as they walked up the front steps and put her arm even more closely through Malcolm's.

"Oh, Maverick," she breathed, using the code name that the Tigers knew Malcolm by. "Isn't this all so exciting?"

She saw the Dragon guard stationed at the bottom of the grand staircase leading up into the tower roll his eyes at her obvious frivolousness and she nodded. Good. The more ostentatiously silly she could be, the more she'd fade like a bad dream when she disappeared from the crowds tomorrow. Malcolm had told her there was supposed to be a feast tonight for the gathered Syndicates with gambling and drugs and all the alcohol money could buy. She was planning to use her time tonight to grease a few palms, souse a few guards, and hoard information like poker chips. This was what Faye Valentine was good at.

Finally, Faye allowed herself a smile. Something that my years of gambling and bad habits has prepared me for.