SESSION 5

The metal coil whipped back into the ruined corridor carrying the metal bracket like an improvised trebuchet. Spike hunkered down as the entire north second-story creaked before it cascaded into the lobby in a thunderous plume of choking dust. A series of alarmed cries accompanied the collapse. They quickly died, replaced by thready moans.

Spike led with his gun, peeking over his improvised concrete blind.

Bang! Bang!

He whipped back around as the bullets picked off bits of crumbling stone. Well, that almost worked.

From behind his pillar, Jet edged around and squeezed off a shot. He was rewarded with a pained scream. "We'll have to do this the hard way."

Spike huffed. "Hard way? This is a walk through a casino for me with the odds heavily tipped in my favor." He chanced a quick double tap. The first bullet smucked a partially collapsed column. The second thumped as it struck his intended target in the neck. Light glinted off the man's glasses as he staggered back and fell out of sight.

The shadows shifted. One … two … three … four, five … six … oh, seven. Two to seven odds in a rubble strewn terrain. He'd seen worse.

"Spike! Do you see her?" Jet tried to get a look, but a shot forced him back.

"Topaz isn't a moron." He pulled off three shots. Two went wide, the last one struck a brace and cornered behind the rubble. Shrieks echoed in reply. He ducked back down as a shower of fire pummeled the block from a different angle, pebbles rained down on him. "She won't be here."

Jet tried to bolt to a better angle behind an avalanche of stone. A curtain of bullets prevented him. He snarled and slid back down to one knee. "They've got us pinned down. We can make it back to the tunnel … Try a different way."

Bracing himself, Spike narrowed his eyes. "I said she's not here. That doesn't mean we're backing down."

"What are you—"

Jet didn't finish before Spike darted from the side of his blind in a flat out run toward the closest targets, two men hiding behind a slab of concrete. Vaulting over the twisted metal steps, he aimed a mid air shot at the one on the right. It sunk into the man's forehead who fell backward with a shocked yelp. Spike's left foot carried him straight into the chest of the second, knocking the pistol from his hand. The collision sent the man's head onto the edge of rough broken stone with a sound like a melon dropped from a rooftop. Bullets rained everywhere in the confused melee.

Over his left shoulder a gunman popped up. A second later his chest bloomed bright red with a solid THWACK!

Spike spared a swift glance, Jet's smoking barrel vanished behind the pillar he had been trying to get to. A second shot rang out and pinged at a target overhead. Chips of stone rattled down. "Watch it, will ya!"

There was no time to chat. His rebuke cut short as a man charged him, swinging a piece of rebar. Spike dropped his gun and ducked out of the way, letting the heavy piece of metal swipe over his head. The path clear, he rammed his left fist up into the guy's chin with his full body behind the uppercut. The rebar hung suspended in the air for a moment, no longer held by the assailant.

"Thanks." Spike snatched the make-shift weapon before it fell and swung it hard into the side of the man's rib cage with a satisfying crack. The air rushed out of his lungs as he crumpled to the ground.

That's only five. Where are the other two?

A shot grazed his cheek from behind. Spike spun around to face a man charging him from the collapsed rubble. He barely had a chance to duck. Another shot wizzed over his head and connected in the center of the man's shoulder with a solid thud. He rolled to the side and toppled down on his face with a groan, a pool of blood collecting in the debris.

"Do you mind?" Spike snarled over his shoulder. But his words caught in his throat. Jet waved to him from behind the pillar … the last shooter drew a bead on him out of sight. Jet couldn't see the threat on his own life. No time to grab his gun.

Spike pulled the rebar up, wielding it like a pool cue, he struck a rock on the top of the debris pile about the size of a billiard ball. The metallic clink echoed in the lobby. The gunman turned his head, eyes wide. The rock cracked into his face a split second later. "Hah. Seven-ball in the corner pocket."

Silence. At last Jet's footsteps filled the void. "Where did you learn how to do all that, kid?"

He smirked and turned to retrieve his gun from between the bloody bodies. "Been around a bit. And for the last time, I'm not a kid, pal."

Bending over the seven-ball, Jet clicked his tongue. "This is easier if they are alive."

"A matter of opinion." He slipped the gun back home. "These are small fries. Not likely to have a bounty. We did them a favor by ending their pointless lives."

"Pointless? Huh. Let me tell you—"

"Piangi. Piangi. Did Jeeters make the drop?" The tinny, female voice issued from beside the last victim. "I saw some dust rising up from your direction. What's going on?"

Topaz. He'd know that voice anywhere. Spike swept over the rest of the carnage. Those who were alive wouldn't be for long. The syndicate probably wouldn't even collect them. Except perhaps to make sure they were silenced.

Jet picked up the communication device. It illuminated his face. He smiled and waved at the video. "You must be Topaz."

"Who the hell are you?" She snapped back venomously.

"We have a common friend. Jeeter's says hello." Jet could have been chatting with an old partner with that tone of voice.

Spike cocked his head. What was he playing at? Topaz wasn't someone to be trifled with. Either Jet didn't know that, or he was tougher than Spike had calculated.

"Jeeter's who? I have no idea of what you're talking about," she replied smoothly after a pause.

"Oh, that fancy dressed mule with the briefcase. Nice piece of machinery inside. Must be worth a lot to you."

"So, it appears you intercepted him. Do I have that right?"

Jet nodded. "Sure do. And if you want that jumble of wires back I'm sure we can work something out."

Spike slouched against a pillar and frowned. If he thought that kind of bait would work on a shark like Topaz he truly was out of his league. Well, he said it was his bounty, sooo. Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he idly examined the collateral damage. So much for this being a future swap point. One good quake and the rest of the roof would come down.

Topaz's laughter crackled over the link. "Back? What did Jeeter's tell you? Clearly you found the rendezvous. But it appears he left you with the impression he was bringing it to me?"

"For money, I assume." Jet nodded. "You want it back?"

"Not really. That wasn't the point."

Spike narrowed his eyes. Why else would he come here with the case?

"I suppose it really doesn't make a difference after all. He did his job, even if slightly botching it. Good help is so difficult to train now a days."

That remark triggered a rude snort from Spike, typical syndicate executive. Jet didn't even look up.

"Whatever, lady. The point is, I have your man and his little toy. You can have them back on my terms."

"Your terms? I think you fail to comprehend what's going on. I don't want it back. Wherever it is now is fine with me. And Jeeters? Well, he is of no use anymore with his face all over the net. No use except as a distraction."

Distraction? Spike pushed up from the wall he'd been leaning against. Wait a minute, what did this thing do?

"Wherever it is will serve as a message of my devastation. So be it. Three … two … one."

Wherever it was? It was on … "The Bebop!" Jet yelled the precise moment Spike tore for the tunnel!

See you, Space Cowboy!