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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.....
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Chapter 8

District 8
Febuary 10, 2036
10:01pm

     "Ugly sucker, isn't it?" asked Leon. They were standing
across the street, looking at the the Fu-Shui nightclub's gaudy
outside.

     Priss shrugged. "It's suppose to be the hot spot in the city
these days. I've been wanting to check it out for a while, but -"

     "You couldn't afford it?"

     "No, stupid. Because they only let couples in without a
hefty cover charge."

     "So I'm supplying you the other half of the equation, so you
can get in." He looked skyward. "A hansom, brave memeber of the
AD police, reduced to being nothing more then a way to get into a
nightclub free. What has the world come to?"

     Priss elbowed him in the ribs. "Will you shut up?"

     "Why should I? I -" He stopped talking and looked around
carefully, his face taking on a calculating look. "Shit," he
breathed.

     "What?"

     "This place is one of Shikichi Sato's places." 

     Priss looked around carefully. "How can you tell?"

     Leon motioned towards the front enternce of the night club.
"Besides the four overdressed hoods at the door?" he asked
quietly. "He's got this place covered like a blanket. There's at
least three on the roof, and there's a carload of them parked
half a block down on this side of the street. There's several
more of Sato's men stationed in several of the doorways on both
side of the streets."

     Priss looked at he places Leon indicated with his words. He
was right, there were Yakuza everywhere. "Do you want to forget
this?" she asked, taking ahold of his arm. "We could hit Hot
Legs, I haven't been there in a while."

     Leon gave her a smile and a shake of his head. "Oh, no you
don't. You wanted to get in, and I have this sudden intrest in
seeing this place myself. Come on." With that, Leon led Priss
across the street.

     As they approched the door, two of the doormen move to block
their way. Both were large, bulky men with hard faces and cold
eyes. "Good evening," one of them said in a horse voice.

     "Is there a problem?" asked Leon easily.

     "We have to check for firearms," replied the horse voiced
doorman. "Club rules."

     "Oh?" replied Leon. "Matter of fact, I am armed." He opened
his jacket to show them his pistol sitting in a shoulder holster.

     Both hoods opened their eyes wide at this sudden
announcement. But before either could say anything, a new voice
said, "Hijo, Kusa, let Inspector McNichols and his guest pass."

     The two doormen turned away, and a smaller spry looking man
with salt and pepper hair walked towards Priss and Leon. He gave
them each a small bow. "Forgive my employee's manners," he said
smoothly. "I'm afraid there has been some problems recently at
several of my employer's business, and we are a bit on edge."

     "That's understandable, Satoru," replied Leon with a shrug.
"The problem wouldn't happen to be called Nemesis, would it?"

     Satoru's smiled slipped slightly. "I am not at liberty to
say."

     "I'd be lying if I said I was upset at what has happened
lately to your employer."

     "I realize that you have some...problems with my employer."

     Leon shrugged. "The only problem I have with Shikichi Sato
is the fact he's the Oyabun of the Sleeping Dragon Yakuza, and
the biggest crook in MegaTokyo, outside of Quincy."

     "Please, Mr Sato is a simple businessman. There have been
criminal charges against him in the past, but they have been
proven to be without merit."

     "Only because several witness who would have testified
against your boss suddenly disappeared."

      It was Satoru's turn to shrug. "If they decided at the last
minute that lying about my employer was the wrong thing to do,
Mr. Sato cannot be held responsible." He stepped back and waved
an arm. "Please, enjoy you visit to my employer's humble
business."

     With Priss's gentle tug, they passed the still smiling
Yakuza leader and entered the club. A blast of music and noise
assaulted their ears, making any conversation impossible. Using
hand signals, they made their way through the packed crowds
lining the narrow, dimly lit, entrence hall. The hall was as
garish as the outside of the building, with strange and bizarre
looking masks hung on the wall. Priss made a face, and Leon
nodded his agreement. 

     After about five meters, the hall opened into a massive, two
story tall room. The noise was overwelming now, and the only
light was coming from several dozen flashing globes rotating
slowly in the ceiling. There were several platforms suspended
from the ceilings, packed with dancers wearing close to nothing
swaying to some unknow beat. 

     The place was packed with people, most writhing on the large
dance floor in the center of the room. There was a long bar
against the far wall, with people packed around it two and three
deep. There were at least four bartenders behind the bar serving
drinks, but they could bearly keep up with the demand. 

     Against the wall to the right, a live band was playing a
loud, screeching song that made Priss's tastes in music cringe in
distaste. Leon didn't bother to speak, but motioned towards a
glass enclosed, second floor lounge to the left that overlooked
the dance floor. Priss nodded, and the pair threaded their way
through the enthusiastic crowd.

     As they came abrest of the short corridor leading to the
bathroom, a short, broadshouldered man with a graying crewcut
rapidly emerged from the corridor and plowed right into both of
them. The only thing that save Priss from being knocked down was
Leon's grip on her arm. The man mouthed "Excuse me,", and headed
for the front door.

     "Watch where you're going!" shouted Leon at the retreating
man. The sound level made it impossible to hear his shout from
farther then two meters away, and Priss doubted the man heard
Leon. Muttering to himself, Leon quickly checked for his wallet
and gun, and relaxed as he detirmined that he still had both.

     The rest of the walk to the lounge was without incedent. The
staircase was wide enough for both of them to walk to together,
but one they reached the lounge door, Leon beat Priss to it and
opened for her. Giving him a nasty glare as she went by, she
entered the lounge, trailed by Leon.

     Inside the lounge, the sound level was reduced to more
manageble levels, as the thick glass elimanated most of the
club's noise. A smaller bar was up against the far wall, with
tables and booths taking up most of the space in the lounge. An
open booth overlooking the dance floor was spotted and quickly
occupied, and a human waitress took their drink orders. After the
drinks were delivered, they watched the dancers on the floor
below them.

     "What do you think of this place so far?" asked Leon.

     "The band sucks," she replied, after taking a sip of her
drink. "They sound like they're strangling cats."

     "Critic."

     "I know music, and that isn't music." She thought for a
minute. "Who was that guy you talk to at the front door? He
seemed to know you."

     Leon looked grim. "That's Satoru. One of Shikichi Sato's
right hand men. He's an oily bastard who is almost as smart as he
think he is. Don't let the good looks and smooth manner fool
you - he's a cold blooded snake."

     Priss nodded. "I know the type. But what has you uptight?
And don't say nothing, because you were perfectly alright until
we came in here."

     Leon place his fingertips against his temples and looked at
Priss. "Word is out on the street that there's a big drug lab
somewhere in this part of town. New and exotic types of drugs are
now popping up, and the N-Police Narcotic Unit has been trying to
locate the lab for the past three months."

     "You think it's here."

     Leon gave her a small smile. "Either that, or all this
security is to keep armed music critics from storming the stage
and finishing off the bad reviews with gunfire."

     "You humor hasn't gotten any better." But Priss gave him a
small smile anyway. "But you're not going to investigate to find
this lab tonight, are you?"

     Leon shook his head. "I'll pass along my thoughts to a
friend I have over in the N-police, and they can handle it.
Besides, it's going to take more then a possible drug lab to keep
me from your glowing presence tonight."

     "Are you sure?"

     "Scout's honor."

     **********          **********          **********

District 8
Febuary 10, 2036
10:11pm

     From the rooftop of a twelve story office building, Nemesis
watched the building below and across the street from his
position. He crouched in the darkness, his hardsuit blending into
the shadows. He was only thirty meters away from his last target
of the night, and his most important one.

     After the destruction of the basement casino, the other two
strikes had gone like clockwork. The brothel on Ja-sia had only a
quartent of guards who had taken one look at the hardsuit, and
decided that they weren't going to commit sucide. The'd followed
the Madam, her girls, and the customers out the front door as
fast as they could go. The scattering of incendiary charges had
quickly turn the brothel into a raging firestorm. 

     Nemesis glance in the direction of the the Byjang toy
factory. There were police cars, lights blazing in the darkness,
all around the factory. That had been more a more difficult
target for several reasons. They guards there had decided to
fight, and with all the potental explosive power of several tons
of ammo, he had been forced to more careful. A well time phone
call had brought the N-police roaring onto the scene in time to
discover a dozen dead members of the Sleeping Dragon Yakuza, and
a large cache of military grade weapons. 

     <Enough of the past. The present needs my attention now.>
There were four guards patroling the roof of the building that
had the drug lab. They were grouped into pairs, patroling the
flat roof, each armed with a heavy barreled rifle. Every so
often, one of the pairs would speak into a small communicator.
<Sato's not taking any chances. He's expecting trouble. I think I
should let him know he was right.>

     The roof itself was mostly flat, but far from being an easy
place to land. A series of large solar panels occupied most of
the rooftop's center, glinting dimly in the city's lights. Most
of the rest of the roof had air conditions, heat exchangers,
pipes, and other equiptment designed for use by the building. In
the far corner of the roof, a small structure protected the
stairs leading to the roof from the wims of the city's weather.
<I'll have to land in that stretch behind the Panels - it the
largest cleared area on the roof.>

     Seeing nothing new, he refocued his view on several of the
nearest rooftops, and noted the other guards. <Good. They looked
cold and tired. The last thing they would expect is to see me.
That should give me a advantage.>

     "I'm in place," said Sarge over the radio. "The smoke and
stink bombs should go off in two minutes."

     "Underestood," replied Nemesis. "Any problems?"

     "A possible one. I ran into one of the ADP inspectors -
McNichols - as I was coming out of the bathroom."

     "Did he look he was there for business or pleasure?"

     "Pleasure, I guess. He looked like he was on a date, good
looking brunette."

     "I'll keep an eye out for him. Any last minute changes?"

     "None that I could see. I thought I saw Satoru when I came
out, but I only caught a glimpse of him."

     "Understood. Start jamming when I give the signal."

     "Roger that. Standing by." 

     The next minute and a half crepted by slowly. Nemesis spent
most of that time watching the area surrounding the building,
looking for any hidden traps. He saw none, and he tensed for the
opening move in this raid.

     A muffled thud was audible came from the building, followed
by two more in rapid succesion. "Bombs have been detonated," said
Sarge.

     "Start jamming."

     "Jamming now."

     Nemesis took two running steps and launched himself into
space. As he cleared the edge of the building, his thrusters
launched him into the air. He reached the top of his arc before
he cut the thrusters, and allowed gravity and momention to carry
him the rest of the way.

     He saw the guards turn and stare up at him, the shock in
their faces clear even at this distance. It took several seconds
for the idea to register that they were under attack, but by then
it was too late. Several pointed their rifles at him, but their
first shots were wild.

     Nemesis fired the railgun twice, hitting one of the hardmen
in the chest and arms with several spikes. As the hardman went
down in a bloody heap, his partner dropped his rifle and started
to run. Nemesis didn't bother to fire at the running man, instead
devoting all his attention to the upcoming landing.

     At the last second, he activated his thrusters, slowing down
just enough to prevent him from slamming into the solar panels.
Clearing the panels by only centimeters, he landed in the
darkness behind them, throwing himself into a forward roll as he
landed to absorb his momentum. He came out of the roll ready to
fire at the first target he saw.

     He heard shouts and running feet, but no one challenged him
immediately. He leapt for the door leading downstairs, his leap
carrying him most of the distance. He landed on an air
conditioning unit hard enough to buckle the component, then made
another jump that put him with an arm's length of the door - and
into the gunsights of the other pair of roof guards.

     Only the combat instincts of a veteran warrior save Nemesis
from being killed or severely wounded right then. He saw the two
raise their rifles to fire at him out of the corner of his eye,
and he threw himself back and away from the door. He heard the
guns fire, the crack of the projectile as it broke the sound
barrier just above his head, and the tearing sound as the slugs
slammed into the steel door with incredible force.

     <Railguns,> Nemesis thought, as he came out a forward roll
and fired his own railgun at the two guards. <Sato armed his
people here with railguns. That's not good. If both of those
rounds had hit me in the same place, I could be dead.>

     He turned and fired all three HE grenades he'd carry at the
sagging steel door, finishing the job the guard's railguns had
started. The heavy door flew off into the night, and most of the
wooden structure that had been attached to it ceased to exist.
Without waiting for the results, Nemesis turned and fired a pair
of smoke grenades in the direction of the surviving roof guards.

     As soon as the dense smoke was sufficent to shield his
movement from Sato's men, Nemesis headed for the open doorway at
a full run. Not bothering to aim, he fired twice into the black
smoke with his railgun to keep the guards back.

     He jumped down the stairs, hitting the small landing at the
base of the stairs with enough force to crack several of the
wooden boards. To his left, a shorter flight of stairs led down
to the sixth floor proper.

     A trio of gang members charging up that flight of stairs
faltered at the sudden apperence of the vigilante. Two aimed
their assault rifles at the black hardsuit, while the third
turned and dove back down the stairs. 

     <No time for finess.> The vibrosword shot free from its
housing in the left arm, and Nemesis lept forward, slamming into
the startled pair of hardmen. The gangster on the right scream as
the vibrosword buried itself in his chest. His partner wasn't
able to cry out; an armored forarm had broken his jaw and nose at
the same time. Both rifles went flying as the vigilate's weight
sent the three of them crashing down the stairs.

     Because of his charge, Nemesis landed on top of the two
gangsters. With the vibo sword still burried in the one Yakuza's
chest, two took the brunt of his fall. He heard several of the
luckless guards' bones breaking under the weight and momentium of
the sudden assault. <Two more down for the count.> 

     As soon as he landed, he looked up and around him for the
next threat. The entire floor was one large room, longer then it
was wide, with only the outside walls and twin rows of meter wide
brick columns remaining. Large windows ran the lenght of the two
longer walls, allowing some light to enter the room. A flight of
stairs at the far end of the room lead downstairs. <That's where
I have to go.>

     There were also several lamps scattered around the room,
their light showing the overtuned cots, tables, and chairs of the
Yakuza members who had been stationed on this floor. It also
showed the dozen Yakuza members scrambling for their weapons and
cover.

     <Damn! Sato must have beefed up his forces more then we
thought he would! I can't get bogged down in a firefight here, so
I'll have to blast my way through.> The vibro sword snapped back
into it's housing, leaving a trace of blood on the hardsuit's
forearm. Nemesis looked at the two he'd laded on. Satified that
neither would be a threat anytime soon, he rolled forward to take
cover behind a brick pillar. 

     As he did so, Nemesis felt the floor and piller shudder
under the impact of several streams of bullets. He leaned around
the pillar and fired off a flacette grenade, quickly followed by
a flash bang grenade. He pulled back behind the pillar just as
the grenades exploded. The flacette grenade sent sixty, needle
like projectiles tearing into the unarmored hardmen. Those that
managed to avoid the first grenade were simultaneously blinded
and deafened by the bright light and loud bang of the second.

     As soon as the second grenade exploded, Nemesis charged out
from behind the pillar. Without slowing, he stormed through the
crowd, striking out at anyone unluckly enough to get in his way.
He fired his railgun only once, that at a half blinded hardman
who tried to bring his machine gun up to fire. The Yakuza went
down hard, his chest a mass of red.

     Nemesis reached the stairway, and lept down the stairs. As
he landed at the foot of the stairs, he heard shouts, screams,
and several shots ring out around him. He fired at a charging
Yakuza, the railgun flachettes punching through the man's face
and upper chest easily.

     The drug lab was just like upstairs, only the windows on
this floor had been painted over to prevent light from spilling
out. Four large fans attached to crossbeams above spun slowly to
generate some airflow. The ceiling also had a heavy duty Halgen
system installed, ready to elimante the threat of fire. 

     Several dozen tables were neatly arranged in different areas
of the room, each area a step in the drug making progress.
Several tables had chemical equipment sitting on them, while
others had bags of colored powder neatly stacked on them, ready
to be shipped out. He noted his chemical sensors listed several
of the more expensive and popular drugs on the black market.
<Street value of all this? Upwards of three hundred million Yen,
I guess. Should make a nice bonfire before I bring the building
down on it.>

     Half of the people in the room wore white lab coats, the
other half somber suits. The lab people took one look at the
hardsuited vigilante, and fled for the stairway at the far end of
the room, and temperary safety. The suits produced weapons and
opened fire.

     Nemesis ducked to the left, the grenade launcher spitting
out three smoke grenades. As the black smoke spred throughout the
room, he moved quickly to a series of pipes running up the wall
to the left of the staircase. He quickly traced the one he
wanted, and the vibrosword popped free of its housing. With a
quick slash, he cut the pipe in two, releasing a small cloud of
halgen gas before he could grip the lower half of the pipe and
bent it away from the wall. He crushed the pipe until it was
flat, then folded the flatten part of the pipe double. <That
should take care of the fire supression for this floor.>

     He heard the shouts of men, followed by several sets of
heavy tread on the stairs. <They've gotten their act together
quicker then I thought.> The smoke filled most of the room now,
and Nemesis could hear the shouts and coughing of the hardmen,
accented by the occasional shot. <Time to even the odds a bit.>

     He tapped a button on his forearm, and the room took on a
errie blue glow. He spotted the two nearest Yakuza in the smoke,
visable against the blue background as two yellow and red man
shaped outlines. He fired his railgun twice, and was moving in
their direction even as the bodies fell.

     The shouts and coughing became louder, any coheasion lost in
the thick rolling smoke. Deciding that he needed a distraction,
Nemesis grabbed a table and threw it at a small group of
gangsters several meters away. The makeshift missle smashed into
the unsuspecting men, sending them crashing into several other
tables. 

     As the others closed in on the screaming men, Nemesis
reached into the armored compartment at his belt and slapped an
incendiary charge high on a piller. He contiuned to move truough
the room, towards the staircase leading down, pausing to add two
more charges to other pillars he passed. 

     He reached the stairs leading down before someone shouted,
"There He is! He's by the stairs -" 

     Nemesis fired off a round at the shouting gangster that
silenced him permantely, then followed it up with a flachette
grenade into the largest group of forms standing together. Before
the grenade exploded, Nemesis was already halfway down the flight
of stairs to the fourth floor.

     He hit the floor hard and did a forward roll to his right,
clear of the staircase. There were suprised shouts and a flurry
of slugs striking all around him. As he came up on one knee, he
pressed a small red button on the hardsuit's right forearm
control panel.

     The charges he'd set on the floor above detenated, sending
shock waves through out the building. A sheet of flame rolled
down the stairs and out into the room, catching several Yakuza
members who were standing too close to the stairway and turning
them into human torches. Nemesis felt the fireball pass over him,
too weak to do serious damage to the hardsuit, but still strong
enough to kill unprotected men.

     He heard shouts, and the sounds of men running away. There
was the sound of a large number of people racing down the stairs,
then nothing. <They must have pulled back, and are setting up an
ambush for me below.>

     He shot to his feet and started moving towards the far end
of the room. The tables on this floor were mostly stacked with
with small neat bundles of money, a King's ransom in human misery
and suffering. <You won't be getting any of this, Sato.>

     Several charred bodies laid close by, while a couple of
other writhed in pain. Nemesis gave the badly burned, but still
alive, victims a mercy round from his railgun, and moved on.

     "What's your status, Sir?" asked Sarge.

     "I'm on the fourth floor now," Nemesis replied, slapping
another explosive charge against a piller. "Resistance is heavier
then expected."

     "It's about to get worse. Someone got word out. There are
three responce units heading your way, two of them Yakuza. The
ADP has a single unit to investigate, but the two Yaks teams will
beat any real ADP responce by at least ten minutes. ETA for the
first Yak group is six minutes."

     "Any more good news?"

     "The Yaks have armored suits on the way. ETA for them is
eight minutes."

     "Fallback to Point YANKEE. I'll meet up with you there."

     "But -"

     "Do it."

     "Understood, Sir. Good luck."

     "Thanks, I'll need it."

     Two gangsters who'd been crouched behind a table stacked
with bundles of Yen decided this was the time to make their move.
The both reared up and opened fire on Nemesis at point blank
range. Sparks flew as the bullets bounced off the armored suit. 

     But while the armor protected Nemesis from the actual
bullets, it did nothing to cusion and protect against the
hydroshock. Nemesis staggered back and crashed into a pillar. His
chest and abdomen were on fire, and the sudden impact of slamming
into the pillar dazed him. He slumped to the ground, his vision
blurry and unfocused. <Not now, Damn it!>

     Just then, the magazines on both assualt rifles ran dry. In
desperation, both men struggled to reload. Neither had experence
in changing magazines in combat conditions, and the process was
far from easy.

     Meanwhile Nemesis struggled against the growing darkness.
Part of him wanted to give in to the sweet release of uncon-
sciousness. But another part of him struggled to push him back
onto his feet. Slowly, his torso throbbing with every breath, he
climbed onto his feet.

     Through his blurred vision, Nemesis saw the two hardmen
slamm fresh magazines into their rifles. Faster then he thought
possible, Nemesis lifted his left arm and fired the grenade
launcher. The flachette grenade slammed into the bundles of money
and detonated, shreading both bills and the two mobsters with
chilling efficiently.

     He took a deep breath slowly, and winced as he felt a sharp
pain in his side. <At least one broken rib, maybe more. Not
good.> He tapped the suit's autodoctor, which quickly confirmed
his thoughts. He ordered the autodoctor to administered a shot of
local painkiller and a stimulant. <I'll pay for it later - if
there is a later....>

     After he finished setting the last of his charges, he
disabled the fire supression system for this floor. Several
bundles of the larger denomination bills went into the pouch at
his waist. Once that was done, he used the flamethrower to start
several fires among the other piles of money, and tossed in as
many of the bundles as he could. <I'm glad this suit is
airtight - the last thing I need is to get high on all the drugs
floating around this place!> 

     Twice, the hardmen on the floor below tried to charge up the
stairs, only to run into railgun needles and a flash bang grenade
that forced a hasty retreat. It wouldn't take long for them to
try again, from the shouting he was hearing from below. And he
was running low on ammo for the railgun and grenade launcher.

     <I've got four minutes to get the hell out of here before
the Yak calvary arrives.> The fire in Nemesis torso was dying
down, but there was still the sharp pain of the cracked rib. His
head seem clearer and more focused. <Now how do I get out of
here?> He looked at the windows and a plan formed in his mind....

    **********          **********          **********