Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic] [BGC] VIGILANTE'S RUN - Chapter 4
From: TrboTurtle
Date: 4/13/1998, 2:14 PM
To: ffml@fanfic.com

Hello again!

This is the Fourth chapter of a sequel I am writing. I have just send Chapter
19 of the the first story in this series, "Black Knights, Steel Hearts", to
raac, and will be archived at the raac archive site. I hope to continue these
stories under the heading "Bubble Gum Crucible" (Assuming it hasn't been used
already). The third story in the series, "Storm Warning" is still being
written at this time,
and is a BGC/Highlander Crossover. Please read and enjoy!

============================================================
Bubble Gum Crisis is copyrighted Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am
just borrowing the characters for a little while, and promise not to
bend, fold, or staple them - unless I can come up with a good reason
to do so. I can be contacted at the Email address above. C&C will be
accepted, out and out flames will result in a Boomer or two being sent
after you.

Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe......

============================================================

Chapter 4
     
DelNotre's Restaurant
February 10, 2036
12:49pm

     Nene and Alan were seated comfortably in a corner booth near
the back of the restaurant. The decor reminded Nene of an
Italian villa, with white stucco walls, arched doorways, and
marble tiled floors. The table that sat between them was real
wood, covered with a white tablecloth, fine dishes and cutlery
were set perfectly in place. There were only four or five tables
occupied, and their conversations added a low hum to the sounds
of music playing in the background. It all made Nene feel like
she was a little girl eating out for the first time.

     Alan's actions when he and Nene entered the restaurant were
unusual as the decor. When the man standing next to the door saw
them, he shouted something in Italian, and hugged Alan like a
long lost relative. They had a short conversation in Italian,
with both of them glancing at Nene for a second, leaving Nene
compleatly in the dark for the entire conversation. Then, the man
showed them the corner booth. When the pair seated themselves, he
presented them each with a menu, then left them alone.

     When the man was strode away, Nene whispered "What was that
about?"

     "What?" asked Alan, without looking up from his menu.

     "The greeting at the door, and the conversation."

     "Ah. That was the owner. He's a second cousin of mine. He
speaks English and Italian fluently, but Japanese is beyond his
skills." He shrugged. "I eat here regularly, and he makes a big
production out of it."

     "What about the conversation dealt with me?"

     Alan looked at her blankly. "How did you know we talked
about you? I thought you didn't understand Italian?"

     "I don't, but I know that look when I see it."

     "He asked if you were my girlfriend, and I told him you were
a coworker, nothing more."

     "Where does he get the idea I'm your girlfriend?"

     Alan chuckled. "I come from a big family, Nene. I have six
brothers and four sisters. Right now, I'm the only one of the
eleven not married, and the entire family is trying to remedy
that situation as soon as possible. So, anytime they see me with
a girl, their hopes go up."

     "Sounds like a pain."

     "It's not that big a deal. I know they want me to be happy,
and we are a close knit family. What about you?"

     She looked down at her menu. "I'm an only child."

     "Sorry to hear that. I can't imagine growing up alone."

     "We'd better order," said Nene, looking to change the
subject. "Or we'll be late back to work."

     A waiter took their orders, and disappeared into the kitchen.
After a short period of time, a steaming plate of pasta was
sitting before each of them, along with a salad and freshly baked
bread. They ate slowly, savoring the meal, and kept the discus-
sion centered on computers and related subjects. Nene was
surprised at the richness of the lunch, and she said, "Isn't this
going to cost you a lot for this meal?"

     Alan shook his head. "I'm paying for your lunch. Mine's
free."

     "Huh?"

     Alan shrugged. "I'm family. My cousin would be insulted if I
tried to pay for my meal." He smiled at her. "So, I make it a
point to recommend this place to everyone I can. In fact I -" He
stopped in mid sentence and stared at the three men entering the
restaurant. "Are you armed?" he asked quietly, his smile gone.

     She nodded, suddenly worried. 

     "With what?" he asked.

     "A SIG Sayer ten millimeter my boyfriend gave me for
Christmas."

     "I like your boyfriend's taste in guns. How good a shot are
you?"

     "Fair. What's wrong?"

     "Time for the weekly payoff to the local Yakuza."

     "This close to ADP headquarters?"

     "Why not? The Yakuza are everywhere."

     "Are we going to stop it?"

     Alan shook his head. "We'd have a hard case to prove from
the start. My cousin wouldn't talk, and the bagman wouldn't talk.
But I still don't like this. I think the Sleeping Dragon Yakuza
is nervous."

     "How can you tell?"

     "They usually send one fellow, a real nice guy, considering
he's Yakuza, by the name of Yawata. My cousin hands him a bag
with the week's payoff, and Yawata's out the door. No muss, no
fuss."

     "I take it that's not Yawata," said Nene, motioning to the
smallest of the three men with her head.

     "Not by a long shot." He watched the trio approach his
cousin. "That's the Oyabun's son, and heir apparent. The other
two are bodyguards. All three are bad news."

     Nene watched the three out of the corner of her eye. They
glared at the other customers, and they took the hint, paid
quietly, and left. Another glare cleared the room of the staff
with the exception of Alan's cousin. Soon, only the three
Yakuzas, Nene, Alan, and the cousin were left in the dining room.
Sato started talking quietly to Alan's cousin, and the cousin was
responding with a lot of gesturing. Suddenly, Sato reached out
and grabbed the cousin by the lapels, pulled him forward, and
tossed him onto the floor. 

     "Cover me," said Alan, sliding out of the booth, followed by
Nene. While Alan directly headed for the trio, Nene drifted a
couple of meters off to the right, and stopped. She pulled out
her pistol, aware of its weight and hardness. Gripping it with
both hands, she released the safety, and kept it pointing down at
the floor.

     "Sato!" shouted Alan, pulling out his own pistol. Like Nene,
he kept it pointed at the floor. 

     The two bodyguards moved to impose themselves between Alan
and their boss, but Sato said, "I will speak with him."

     Sato turned and glared at Alan, who had stopped a meter
away. He was short and slim, with slicked back hair, and a pock
marked face. "Stay out of this, officer Tremolini," he said with
a nasal twang. "This concerns a business matter between the owner
and my father."

     "And that is my cousin you have on the floor, Sato. That
makes it my business. I suggest that you let Vito get up and
maybe we can discuss this."

     "And why should I do that?"

     "Because I might get excited, and you wouldn't like that."

     Sato snorted. "A brave statement, considering the source."

     Alan slowly brought up his pistol until it pointed at Sato's
forehead. "I asked you nicely once, Sato," he said calmly. "I'm
not the best shot in the world, but I can't miss at this
distance. And since this is a fifty cal Desert Eagle, the bullet
won't leave a lot intact when it goes through your head."

     "And my guards would kill you."

     "Not before my partner takes then out with her brand new
pistol." He motioned with a slight gesture of his head in Nene's
direction. "She's on the ADP shooting team, and the best shot in
her class three years running."

     Sato looked undecided. Alan continued. "Your father has had
a lousy day already with what happened at pier 234. I doubt
losing his son will improve his day."

     "What are you prattling on about? I don't know anything
about what happened at some pier."

     "Be sure to tell Hoshi that when you visit him in the
hospital."
     
     Sato's eyes narrowed. "For a desk officer, you seem to stay
current on certain subjects."

     "Bad habit." replied Alan with a shrug. "Like I told my
partner earlier, I'm an informational packrat."

     Suddenly, Vito started speaking to Alan in Italian. Alan
replied back in Italian, his eyes never leaving Sato's. For
several minutes, the two cousins conversed in rapid fire fashion.

     Nene gripped her pistol tightly in her hands. <What is Alan
trying to do, get him and me killed?> She didn't know if she
could actually fire at anyone. <Rampaging Boomers are one thing,
there nothing wrong in destroying them before they can kill you.
But can I shoot a human being in cold blood?>

     She was broken out of her worrying by Alan's incredulous
cry. "You can't be serious! A 50 percent rise in the protection
fee? Is you father crazy?"

     Sato looked worried now, as Alan's pistol had moved closer
to his face. His bodyguards continued to glance from Alan to
Nene, wondering who was the more dangerous one. "It is a
temporary measure," Sato said with raised hands. "As there has
been a sudden drain on the local community's resources."

     "How much did you father loose in the attack last night?"
asked Alan calmly. "Half a billion Yen? Three quarters of a
billion?"

     "A significant amount of resources were lost a short while
ago, but we are taking measures to recoup our losses."

     "Is your father preparing for a war?"

     Sato took a deep breath. "I believe he is tighting security
at several locations in response to some perceived threats."

     "Perceived threats? You're in the wrong line of business, my
boy. You should be a politician. Your father lost over thirty men
last night, and you call it a `perceived threat'." Alan sighed.
"Tell you what, Sato. I'll tell my cousin to give you the usual
amount he pays you, plus another twenty five percent to assist in
recouping your losses. This time only, though. Next week, he pays
the same amount he's been paying. Understood?"

     He spoke to Vito in Italian again, and the man scrambled to
his feet, and went over to the cash register. He opened it and
counted out a fair number of bills. He withdrew a small bag from
under the counter, dropped the pile of bills into the bag, and
walked over to stand next to Alan.

     "My Father's orders were clear on this point. I can not
leave with less then the full amount."

     "You could leave on your back with a lot less brain matter,
Sato." said Alan coldly. "I think your father would prefer three
quarters of a pie and a intact son, then to get nothing and lose
his son in the bargain."

     "Your point has some merit," replied Sato, looking wilted.

     "I was hoping you would see it my way." Alan spoke to his
cousin, and Vito handed over the money to one of the bodyguards.
The man glanced inside, and nodded to Sato.

     "I think it's best you leave now, Sato," said Alan. "Someone
is out to take your father's outfit down, and I rather my
cousin's place not be at ground zero should they come after you."

     Sato glared at Alan, then turned and walked out of the
restaurant, trailed by his bodyguards. Nene felt relief wash over
her, followed by a flash of anger. She put her pistol away and
stalked over to Alan.

     Alan murmured something to his cousin. Vito, after glancing
at Nene, quietly slipped away. Alan slowly holstered his own
pistol, and stood there with his hands behind his back.

     "All right, Mister," said Nene angrily. "Do you want to
explain why you pointed a pistol at a civilian, and threatened to
shoot him? Not to mention participation in a felony by giving
said civilian protection money? What happens if he decides to
complain to the ADP internal affairs? You're a computer officer,
not Leon!" Now on a roll, she continued to forcefully tell him
everything he'd done wrong.

     Alan listen in silence as she read him the riot act. "Is the
sargent finished?" he asked formally.

     Nene glared at him. "I'm waiting for answers."

     He nodded. "First, Sato won't complain to ADP - he would
lose face with his father if he did. He will handle the insult to
his honor himself."

     "And when he kills you, will his honor be satisfied?" asked
Nene, feeling some of the anger fade.

     "It will be. Though it will be some time until he can act on
it." 

     "And the rest?"

     "As to pointing my handgun at him, I knew he would back off
if I showed I was willing to kill him. Had it been his father or
one of his senior lieutenants, I could not have risked using the
same tactic. Giving Sato the money was a way for him to save face
with his father. It also shows the elder Sato that I understand
his current problems, but I wouldn't allow it to act as an excuse
to squeeze more money out of my cousin's business."
      
     "And what about telling Sato I was on the ADP shooting team,
and being the best shot in my class three years running? I'm not
that great a shot."

     "I lied about you being on the the ADP shooting team because
I wanted the bodyguards to think you were a threat, and thus
treat you with respect. As to the best shot in her class three
years running statement, exactly how many redheaded computer
security officers does the ADP have? Since they have only one,
namely you, you're in a class by yourself."

     "I see." Nene thought for a minute. <What am I suppose to
do?> she thought. <Granted he broke rules, but no one was hurt.
But I can't let him get away with it. He is my subordinate, and
I'm responsible for his actions.> "What is the worse job that the
computer security office has to perform?"

     "A physical check of the entire computer system wiring
structure. Checking it for wear, or signs of intruders. It's
long, tedious, but necessary."

     "And how long would it take?"

     "Around two weeks, working full time." 

     "In that case, for the next month, you will spend half the
work day performing such a check, starting at the bottom, and
working up. I want the entire wiring system carefully checked. Do
I make myself clear?"

     "Yes, sargent," Alan replied meekly. "Do you want me to
start today?"

     "Tomorrow morning is soon enough."

     "Yes, sargent. Anything else?"

     Nene sighed, all the anger gone from her. "Not for now. We'd
better get back to work."

     Vito reappeared and handed Alan a couple of small bags and
embraced him again before he and Nene left. As they walked back
towards the ADP headquarters, Nene asked, "What's in the bags?"

     He handed her one. "Cookies. One bag's for you, one for me."

     "You're not trying to bribe me, are you?"

     He chuckled. "No, sargent. The thought never crossed my
mind."

     **********          **********          **********
     
Ri-san Bar
District 3
February 10, 2036
1:52pm

     The Ri-san Bar was a hole in the wall located in a rough
section of the district. Well known among the local police
officers as a place to avoid, it was a haven for those in the
criminal world. Which is why Leon, Daley, and Anderson were now
entering the bar. 

     Leon looked around slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to
the darkness of the bar. Daley stood beside him, and behind
Daley, Anderson stood with a look of distaste on her face. "Nice
place, McNichols," she said quietly. "You come here often?"

     "Only to talk to Skeeter," replied Leon in the same quiet
voice. "Stay close, and don't let them know you're a cop."

     "Why? They don't look like they care one way or another."

     "Let me tell you a story about this area of town that you
might now be aware of, detective," said Daley, his tone light but
low. "A Boomer went on a rampage through this section of the
district about three years ago. When we responded, we found the
smoking remains of the Boomer in the street outside this bar.
>From the number of spent shells we found in the street, we figure
someone used more ammo in ten minutes then the ADP uses in a
month."

     Anderson shrugged. "So they don't like Boomers."

     "They like cops even less."

     "Quiet, children," said Leon. "Skeeter's here. Table near
the back door." 

     "See him," replied Daley.

     "He's all right, but watch out for the other patrons.
They're not so friendly."

     Daley noted several of the individuals in the bar staring at
them in open hostilely. Several of the patrons were sitting along
the long wooden bar off to their right, while others were scat-
tered among several booths along the left wall. Several more
occupied a couple of the tables in the center of the room.

     The three of them moved quickly through the tables, and
approached the two men sitting at the table Leon had indicated.
One was a giant, muscles rippling under a tight shirt. His hair
was nonexistent, and his skin was the color of old hickory. His
face had the flattened apparence of someone who fought with their
hands.

     The other man was short, slim, with a neat apparence and
manner, quietly drinking from a wine glass. He looked up at the
trio approaching the table, but said nothing. Leon took the only
other chair at the table, leaving Daley and Anderson standing.

     "Leon," said the neat man quietly. "Nice to see you again."

     "Likewise," replied Leon casually. "How's business?"

     The man shrugged. "Steady. You know how things are today."

     "I do."

     They continued to talk for several minutes on mundane
matters, much to Anderson's irritation. Out of the corner of his
eye, Daley saw the detective start to fidget as the conversation
continued. <Any moment now....>

     Finally, Anderson leaned forward and snapped at the neatly
dressed man. "Look, Skeeter. Unlike these two, I don't have time
to waste with talks about the weather. We need some information,
and we need it now."

     "Excuse me," said Leon calmly. "You're making a mistake -"

     "No, Inspector," she snarled in a low voice, making Leon's
rank sound obscene. "I'm not about to stand here, while you play
happy time with a gun runner!"

     "But Dect -"

     "Listen, McNichol." Her anger was channeling itself into her
words. "This isn't your usual Boomer hunt, where you can wreck
huge sections of the city just to satifiy some deep seeded need
to demolish things. This is real police work here, so why not let
the real detective work, hm?"

     Leon looked at the smaller man. "What do you think, Ham?"

     Ham shrugged. "Not bad. A bit of a firecracker though."

     Anderson turn to stare at him. "Listen, Skeeter," She
snapped. "I don't have all this time to -"

     "Detective, you are laboring under a misapprehension. I'm
not Skeeter."

     " - sit around and...." Her voice trailed off as the man's
words made an impression. She looked at Leon. "Is he telling the
truth?"

     Leon kept his face calm. "Detective Anderson, may I
introduce Ham Mayfair, MegaToyko's top criminal defence lawyer.
Ham, this is Detective Anderson of the N-police."

     Ham tipped his hat. "Charmed, I'm sure."

     Anderson face went blank. "So where's Skeeter?"

     "That is me," replied the giant.

     Anderson turned to look at the giant. "You're Skeeter?"

     Skeeter sighed, and looked at Leon. "Quick off the mark,
isn't she?"

     Anderson straighten, her face a mask of anger. "You did that
deliberately, didn't you?" she hissed at Leon.

     "I thought you were a detective." replied Leon easily. "Ham
is Skeeter's lawyer, here to make sure we don't try to entrap
Skeeter."

     Skeeter sighed again. "I see the N-police are still behind
the times."

     Leon shrugged. "I tried to tell her, but she wouldn't
listen."

     "I know. What can I do for you, Inspector?"

     "You heard about what happened on Pier 234 last night?"

     The giant nodded. "Sato is not happy, to put it mildly. He
is been moving men and firepower around, and most of his
important operations are well on their way to becoming
fortresses. Word on the street has it that MegaTokyo is graced
with the presence of Nemesis."

     "That's what we think." Leon pulled out a small clear
plastic bag from his pocket and passed it over to Mayfair. The
Lawyer looked at it, then passed it over to Skeeter. The giant
picked up the bag and stared at the three shell casings in it.

     After several seconds, Skeeter said, "Fifteen millimeter,
Teflon tipped, hydroshock specials. From a mini gun, probably a
GMMA Wirlwind-III." He handed the bag back to Leon. "Not very
common ammo."

     "I know." Leon pocketed the bag. "Who in MegaTokyo would
have a supply of this ammo?"

     Skeeter leaned back in his chair, the seat creaking under
the strain. "It would have to be Chogomiga, Narsh, or Gamble.
They're the only three who are big enough to bother handling this
type of ammo. Of course, this assumes that Nemesis is buying
local. He could have his own supply, or he could be stealing it."

     "Have to start somewhere, Skeeter. You know Sato not going
to be open with us."

     "A piece of advice, Inspector. Sato is preparing for war,
and he is not going to be considerate of those bystanders who get
in the way. And the other major gang leaders are also gearing up
for battle. So, either find Nemesis real quick, or expect a full
scale war that makes the Boomer uprising of two years ago look
like a tea party."

     Leon nodded, and stood up. "Are you ready, just in case
things go to hell?"

     Skeeter nodded. "My people are taking care of business. Just
try and take care of your end of things."

     "Oh, we will. Stay loose Skeeter." 

     "That's what I'm good at. Take care, Leon."

     Leon turned and strode away, trailed by Anderson and Daley.
The other bar patrons, with unfriendly gazes, watched the trio
leave. No one said anything until they walked out of the bar. The
strode over to the marked police car and opened the doors.

     "What next?" asked Daley, sliding into the front passenger
seat. His breath was a cloud in the cold air.

     "We've got a starting point," replied Leon. "We have three
names - Heio Chogomiga, Gram Narsh, and Kelly Gamble."

     "We've wasted time here," grumbled Anderson, who had to ride
in the back. "We should be pressing Sato, not chitchatting with a
mentally challenged hulk."

     Daley chuckled, and Anderson turned to glare at him. "What's
so funny, Inspector?" she asked harshly.

     "Should I tell her?" Daley asked Leon, as Leon slid in
behind the wheel.

     Leon shrugged. "You should." he replied. He started the
engine, and guided the car out onto the street. "She's not going
to be happy until you do."

     "All right." He turned in his seat to face Anderson.
"Skeeter's many thing, but a mentally challenged hulk isn't one
of them. He's the most powerful non Yakuza gang leader in
MegaTokyo, and runs this district as his own private kingdom."

     "So," replied Anderson. "He knows how to crack heads. So
what?"

     Daley smiled at her. "He's got three different Master's
degrees, including an MBA from Yale. He speaks at least seven
different languages fluently, written several well respected
books on medieval Japan, and he knows more about what's going on
in MegaToyko then anyone else, with the exception of Quincy."

     "You're not serious."

     Daley held up a hand. "Scout's honor. You can check his file
when we get back to the station."

     "So why does someone with so much intelligence hang around
down here?"

     "He grew up around here," replied Leon. "And when he came
back about ten years ago, this place was a war zone. There were a
dozen gangs fighting for turf, and more crime in this district
then the rest of the city combined."

     "So how did he stop it?"

     Leon turned his head and smiled at her. "He took over as a
gang leader and consolidated power. He keeps the gangs in line,
the Yakuza out, and peace in the district."

     "Which is why the local police give him a lot of slack,"
finished Daley. 

     "I thought the police were suppose to put men like Skeeter
away."

      "If something happened to Skeeter," said Leon, his eyes
back on the road. "This district would go up in flames quicker
then you could say `Boomer rampage'. No one wants that,
especially the local police. So, they overlook a lot of the small
stuff, and Skeeter lets them know if someone's poaching on his
turf."

     Anderson leaned back and frowned. "I beginning to wonder
who's running this city."

     "You just beginning to wonder at that?" said Daley. "Me and
Leon here have been mulling over that for years now."

     "Any answers?"

     "Nope."