"Sir, it appears she returned to the ship."
Felix clicked his well-maintained fingernails against the metal desk. Even the thought of her, alone, crawled underneath his skin and heated his rough flesh. His eyes followed each step she'd take, perusing the streets, aimlessly. It irritated him, to say the least, to see her so carefree. Glowing, even. And it was that one word the unsettled him the most and rocked him at his core. But he shook it off and continued to tail her.
"We should take them now, we have the advantage. They're practically vulnerable." Gruffed a hardy man to Felix's right. Felix rubbed at his chin and appeared to ponder on the mulatto, muscular man's words.
"Some etiquette you got there, Tank." Hissed a slender tall man, sipping on his steaming tea.
"He brings up a good point, Viktor." Interceded a stout man in a ball cap, looking up from his computer. Viktor bared his teeth and blew the blond wisps of bangs from his long face. "What do you say boss? You have the last word."
Felix remained silent for what seemed like ages. He massaged his aching temples and huffed. "I guess it's been decided." The three men caught his empty gaze. "Get her. But don't kill the others...just yet."
"Sir!" Affirmed the three in unison.
The Bebop was still and the soft hums emitting from the ship's machinery lulled the remaining crew to sleep. Or so Edie had anticipated. The wan hallways welcomed her as she crept through the first floor, passing up Jet's quarters and the common area undetected. She tiptoed down the stairs, using pure memory and physical touch to aid her down the pitch black corridors. If Edie assumed correctly, she'd say it was about 2 a.m. in the morning. Wednesday? Had she really been gone from the Bebop for two days? It was longer than originally planned.
As she reached for the switch to her quarters, her hand trembled furiously. Edie withdrew her hand and studied her delicate fingers. Her eyebrows furrowed and adjoined as she scrutinized the quiver flow through them. She shook them gently and her grasp, once more, made for the door switch. A sudden rumbling along with the deafening sound of an explosion ceased her action. Edie recoiled her touch once more and her eyes widened to search the surrounding darkness. Her legs waived below her and she struggled against the large dry mass accumulating at her throat. A loud buzzing sounded throughout the depths of the Bebop, and the once sable corridors bathed in a red glow. Edie caught her breath and her thoughts, arming herself with her desert eagle. She dashed up the stairs and panicked at the familiar rhythm of gunshots.
Jet! Her head screeched as she took cover behind neighboring walls. Her eyes could barely make out the figures floating past the space. Almost as if they were ghosts, or worst...the grim reaper himself. The flashing red light provided some sort of light for her, but did nothing for her nerves. On the contrary, it heightened them tenfold. The emergency lights never meant a good thing. It meant the power was cut off from the ship...in other words, there was a breach. And Edie knew damn well who was behind it all. It was the only person who harbored a personal vendetta against the Bebop, to her, more specifically. Felix.
More gunshots.
"Jet! Are you there?!" Even to her own self, her mousy voice sounded feeble and small. Anger boiled inside of her at that notion. "Answer me, damn it!" Edie demanded, this time with more force and aggression.
"Edie? What the hell is going on?" Spike snapped, pulling on his wrinkled collar.
"Spike? Can't you see, stupid. We're under attack." She growled and rested her gun close to her face.
"Let me guess." Spike sighed unapologetically.
"I heard her!" Cried one of the intruders, spraying gunfire across the room. Spike ducked and concentrated his vision.
"Looks like there's the two, maybe three of them. Doesn't he know it'll takes a hell a lot more than that to stop us?" Spike smirked and crouched toward nearby cover to get better insight.
"Shit!" The same voice boomed as distant gun fire rang through the air and pierced at the yellow couches of the common area.
"Let's split up." Voiced another perpetrator.
"I'll take the big guy!" Eagered the intruder with the bass tenor.
"Jet," whispered Edie. Terror slowly crept and settled back into her bones. She crawled closer and closer, toward Jet's quarters, aware of the stocky built man that surrounded it. The stranger shot in its direction and bullets bit back. Edie turned her head to check on Spike and watched as two figures danced about in the crimson-paned room. She leered. She did not once doubt Spike's capabilities. He had already tossed the intruder's gun aside and pursued him in hand to hand combat. It didn't surprise her none, rather it confirmed her faith in him.
Grunts and gunfire. That was the music of the scene. The smell was of rust and gasoline.
That didn't deter Edie though. Yes, her mind flashed to the thought of the life within her, but it also flashed of the lives of her makeshift family. Of Spike and of Jet. She couldn't see their limp bodies, swimming in a pool of blood. She couldn't see their lifeless eyes, once they glossed over. She couldn't and she wouldn't.
Time seemed to dwindle as the two men of the Bebop fought against their enemy. And with all their talents and training, to Edie, it did not seem like enough this time. Her eyes strained as she watched blood spew from the corners of Spike's mouth as he was roundhouse kicked in the face.
These guys weren't amateurs, bought off the street. They were trained and highly-qualified, according to their techniques. It almost appeared as if the lanky man and Spike mirrored each other's movements. It would be only a matter of time till one of them pulled a gun and changed the game. Edie's eyes searched frantically and unconsciously cradled her slightly swollen belly.
I'm sorry.
She revealed her cover, standing straight up with her slim fingers still caressing her lower abdomen. "Over here!" Edie bellowed as she lifted her hands into the air, signalling her surrender. The burly man turned his head over his shoulder and grimaced.
"Edie, no!" Jet charged towards the intruder, slamming into his body and tugging the gun from the man's hold. The two struggled for control over the gun until a single gunshot rang through the hazy air. Jet slouched against the broad shoulders of the man and in response, the man shoved Jet's languid and motionless body aside, till it slammed against the ship's floor. Edie's legs shook like a leaf and threatened to give out on her. Her mouth was gaping and cold sweat streamed down her soft features. This time she could feel it and it was about to erupt inside her. There was no stopping it this time. No dry throat or lump could deny her the release that she most desperately needed. Out of the silence of the moment, Edie finally let out an ear-splitting scream. It no longer subsided within her but made itself heard and felt. The men, including Spike, stood frozen in time. She pushed past the intruder who clung tightly to her arm, to bend before Jet. Tears now flooded her hysterical eyes and clouded her vision of the blood that seeped through Jet's shirt and stained her ivory hands.
"Get off me!" Edie gnashed her teeth at the man who held onto her and snatched her arm from his grip. She traced the hard lines of Jet's blotched face. He looked up at her and smiled weakly.
"Viktor, the girl." Commanded Jet's shooter, aiming for Spike next. Spike's posture tensed and clenched his convulsing fists. The named foe nodded his head and reached his hand out to the sobbing girl. She did not turn her head to face him, but instead placed her hand in his.
Viktor aided the girl to her legs, tears drenching her hair and the collar to her shirt. "Spike. I'm going with them." Was all she could make out between the heaves of breath and daunting sobs. Edie's hair fell to her face and shielded her eyes from his sight. Viktor turned to exit the Bebop, Edie trailing behind him along with the other man, whom she had learned he was referred to as Tank.
Spike tore a shred of his beheveled suit jacket and pressed the cloth against Jet's wound. Jet's eyes tightened at the stinging sensation and grabbed onto Spike's hand.
"What are you doing?" He gasped as Spike applied more pressure.
"What do you think I'm doing? Like hell you're dying on my watch." Spiked sassed back.
"Go after her, dumbass."
"How many times are we gonna do this, Jet? For the last time, she chooses her own path, okay? She chose it for herself."
"Tsk. Still as stupid as ever, huh? That doesn't surprise me one bit." Jet frowned and strained Spike's fingers with his suppressing grasp.
"I said go after her!"
Spike shook off his grip and scoffed. "What for? She made her own bed… I'm going to get some antiseptics and we're finding you a doctor." He turned from Jet and aimed for the medical supply housed in the kitchen.
"To hell with me, Spike. Go fucking after her!" Jet demanded once more, yelling with all the strength left in him that he could muster. Spike swatted him off and continued walking. "And that baby? You're going to let your own child die?!" He roared, causing Spike to stop dead in his tracks.
Spike forced out a laugh and peered back at him. "How desperate are you?"
"You think I'm lying?" Barked Jet. "She sure as hell didn't sleep with that, dillweed."
"Like I've said before, that kid could be anyone's. Could be yours for all I know."
Jet struggled to sit himself up, clutching onto the cloth soaking his blood. His eyes darkened as he stared intently at Spike's back. He chuckled lightly to himself. "What's with you? Why do you keep thinking there's something between us? She hasn't slept with me, but you and I both know who's she's really been sleeping with." His eyebrow shot up. "Whether you want to believe or not, that child in Edie's stomach is, regretfully, yours."
Spike remained still and squeezed his hands behind his head. "I'm going to get the kit." He continued for the kitchen.
