[Ranma][Fanfic] Biker 1/2 book 2 chapter 6
Doghead Thirteen
I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, you have no proof I did it, I
wasn't even in the country at the time.
Previous chapters of this monstrosity (including the entirety of book 1)
can be found in several places - the TASS/RAAC archives (for some reason
their bots didn't put book 2 in the Biker 1/2 folder) fanfiction.net and
Studio Asynjor (a.k.a http://www.asynjor.com/fanfic/index.html) which
for now can be counted as the official Biker 1/2 webpage until I finally
manage to get something more personalised written. Don't get onto me as
to what the heck everything's arranged like on the above sites - the
only involvement I have in them is A) guy who posts stuff on RAAC and B)
satisfied user.
I'd advise first-time readers of Biker 1/2 to go to one of the above
sites and read book 1 since I sincerely doubt you'd be able to work out
what the heck's going on if you didn't; this is the second of a series
of 100,000+ word books.
Words in "{this}" kind of brackets are spoken in Cantonese. Those in
"[this]" are in wolf-speak. Not that there's been much of either turning
up lately.
Biker 1/2 Cycle 1 - Birth of a Modern Legend, book 2: Severed.
Chapter 6: Here come the Men in Black.
"You try to rule my world / and hurt me every day / I want to live my
life / you want to take my soul away" - Apoptygma Berzerk, 'Soultaker.'
"I can't believe th' shit th' 12 gave Summers. It's totally sick - they
wuz usin' her, same way as Akira tried ta use Ukyo." - Ranma Saotome.
***********************************
Minnie-May Hopkins was the definition of the term 'jailbait'.
A sixteen year old blonde bombshell with an impressive line in revealing
clothing and a fixation on explosive devices (thus the term 'bombshell')
May was presently sitting in the passenger's seat of her elder
partner-in-crime Rally Vincent's favourite toy. This toy being a 'boss
hoss' Shelby Mustang which Rally had purchased several years before and
spent the intervening time repeatedly trashing, getting repaired and
getting souped-up.
Rally had walked into that bar looking for trouble.
The things that were presently giving cause for the mildly concerned
expression on May's face were threefold, all of them vehicles. A black
Dodge van. A spiky wasp-striped turboed Honda CB250 with a machine gun
clamped up under the side of the fuel tank. Another turboed Honda CB250,
this one camouflage painted and mounting two RPK's where the other had
an M60.
The presence of a pair of bikes that had just crawled out of Road
Warrior definitely had May worried, mainly because she was all too
familiar with a gang who rode that style of machine.
At that point Rally swaggered out the bar, her leather jacket slung
across one shoulder thus revealing her paired crossdraw shoulder
holsters and her massive Clan Saotome tattoo. She was followed by the
biggest woman May had ever seen; said woman was carrying two unconscious
people like they weighed as much as a rolled-up sleeping bag. The giant
was followed by a tight group of armed persons, all of them Asian. One
of them - a slightly stocky albino with a long purple ponytail, Chinese
BDU's and an AK47 - said something to Rally before climbing onto the
camouflaged bike and roaring off. Rally nodded, said something to the
giant and headed for the car.
May waited until the door was closed before asking the pressing
question.
"Rally, what the hell's going on?"
"The Clan leadership are in town."
"You mean Akira's *dead*?!?!"
"Yeah, he got his head eaten by a werebear." Rally fired the Mustang's
engine and went after the black Dodge.
***********************************
"Fucker that damn witch got away."
Tiger shrugged. "Hey, any witch worth her broomstick is gonna have a
string of contingency spells set up in case she gets captured or KO'ed,
and I reckon that redhead is a case in point. Ah well, if what Vincent
reckons is correct we got the ringleader and her number one barking
dog."
Lin-Lin snorted. "True, but that witch is sure to be able to track
blondie there down. And before long we're going to have the pigs on our
case."
"Oh, come on. There isn't a Japanese consulate building in Miami for
nothing."
Akane sighed. "Girls, if we don't watch it we'll get Honda in some major
shit with Foreign Affairs, so let's try to avoid getting the police
involved in this one."
Tiger shrugged again. "Don't worry. We're supernats, so is this Summers
girl. If there's one thing the Miami pigs know it's not to get involved
in supernatural affairs - it tends to be bad for their health."
"True, but we'd better prep the consulate for an assault. I'll have that
embassy guy call in as many local Saotome clanners as possible, there's
enough firepower in that basement to equip half an army."
Tiger gave her a funny look. "Embassy guy? You'd mean Lieutenant
Amachi?"
Akane nodded "Yeah, that's the name."
***********************************
Willow woke up. There was no transaction between unconscious and fully
alert, she just snapped from one state directly to the other.
She scanned round her surroundings, swiftly recognising them as her
bedroom. So her contingency spell had worked perfectly. Well, apart from
the fact she was sprawled across the floor, face down with her feet on
the bed and her head on a chair, that is. She'd have to refine that a
bit.
She grabbed the phone. At least someone had got away to warn the others.
And at least she lived alone so nobody was going to end up asking her
how she got back without them noticing.
***********************************
Ranma Saotome was pissed off.
This had been his usual state for the last two weeks; pissed of, looking
for a fight and probably drunk. The arrival of his pal Spike didn't do
much to alleviate his state of pissed off; when Ranma was drunk the
English vampire really got on his nerves. And since he'd been drunk for
a week now...
"So, trying to give yourself liver cirrhosis again are you Saotome?"
"Cut th' shit an' tell we what ya found out, Spike."
Spike snorted. "Now now Saotome, that's no way to address an old friend.
But enough of the bullshit. Angelus, your turn."
Spike's pal Angelus sauntered in and leant against the doorframe; he
grinned and Ranma and dumped a sheaf of papers on the table.
"So what's that?"
"That, Saotome, is the address and architectural plans of a house a
certain witch all three of us have a bone to pick with lives in."
"Yer meanin' that red-haired bitch wiv th' silly grin an' more
contingency spells than is necessary or even sane, right?"
"Exactly. So, why don't we pay her a little visit?"
"Then what?"
"Well, it's easy enough to set the whole lot off since her target's
probably her home. That way we can uplift her once we've set all of them
off."
"Rockin'. We'll roll in at eleven o'clock sharp."
"Are you going to bring Tendo and Herb?"
"Nah, us three can handle this easy."
***********************************
"Left a bit... left a bit... about two degrees more... right, now three
degrees up... Gotcha." Stingray nodded his satisfaction and began
drawing with his usual swift, firm strokes. He held the sketch up.
Linna nodded.
"That's her, Ken. Some sort of summoner - mage type and she's got a
serious bone to pick with our gun-toting werewolves. I saw her priming a
double-hand trash crab summon when that Musk girl clobbered her - it
would have ripped the damn bar in half and completely set the damn
Saotomes off."
Jeff chuckled. "Okay, Doc. Feed her into the gizmo then."
"It's called a wideband scanner Sarge. This little toy will compare
Linna's image of this witch to college files, police records, CIA Known
Supernat lists and so forth. The-"
"Get on with it Doc, you know I'm winding you up."
Ken snorted, glowered at the rest of the squad who were busy sniggering
and slotted the drawing into the adapted flatbed scanner.
After a few seconds of whirring his laptop bleeped.
"Gotcha. College records, our kid's Willow Andrayov. There you go Sarge,
it's all there - home address, vehicle registration... Whoa, she's got a
police record in Daytona area... hmm, assisting a Ms. Buffy Summers in
an act of grand arson of school property? Oh, I get it - her and her
pals torched their high school for Halloween high-jinks."
"Watch it, Ken. The name Buffy Summers rings a few alarm bells if you
get my drift. Hey, run a full check on the blonde girl those Saotomes
kidnapped." Jeff tapped Stingray's earlier sketch.
"You can put a name to the image, Ken. If blondie was being honest her
name's Buffy Summers."
"Hang on two ticks, I'm just rollin' a smoke."
"Right. Well, while you're busy reading up on our two young ladies I
will be paying this Andrayov girl a little visit. T-Bone, Junkers,
you're with me. Linna, help Ken chase up anyone he tags in this mess."
Everyone nodded. "Gotcha Sarge."
"Right - let's do it."
***********************************
Nabiki slouched round the van, absently kicking it's tyres as she went.
There was something on the edge of her mind; she'd had it before. Just
before the three times she'd blown a deal and just before both battles.
It was her trouble feeling and she didn't like having it back.
"So, has blondie come round yet?"
Tiger snorted. "As if. I really lathered her one, she's gonna be fast
asleep for hours. Well, unless she's tougher than she looks. And by the
way she went down that doesn't seem likely."
Nabiki grunted.
"Hey boss." Shan Li commented. "You've been going round like a cat on a
hot roof for two hours now - what the hell's wrong?"
"You think I know? I've just got this nasty feeling about this whole
situation. And i get good nasty feelings."
Tiger nodded gloomily. "Yeah, I'm getting it. The trouble feel."
"Good a name as any for it. How about that barkeep, I don't suppose he's
come round either?"
"Nah. Even though I only tapped him, humans tend to splat kinda easy if
you really leather 'em."
"Say, have you heard back from that Vincent woman yet?"
"Yes. She's gotten a bunch of her clanner pals together, they'll be with
us in about a quarter of an hour. Specialist criminals, survivalists,
gun fanatics and hot-rodders. Though the way one of 'em tooled his
wheels up it's more like a four-wheeled tank, so I heard. All of them
Grade A maniacs."
"They sound like your kind of people."
"I figure they are."
"Good. What about the consulate security staff?"
"They're not much to look at. Only three supernats out of the lot of
'em. One Moroboshi who went military, one Skel clanner and one of ours."
"That makes two of ours. Remember who Ranma's mum is?"
"OK, two of ours from the guard team, rest of 'em all bodycounts. At
least twenty of Vincent's pals. Our team. Something like forty real
fighters at the very most. Not good."
"Shut it Tiger, you're talking like we're up against the Conservative
Amazons again. So what the hell is it about this town that's gotten you
all so spooked?"
Tiger snorted.
"The trouble feel."
***********************************
It was getting dark. Ranma was leant casually against a wall, a
cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He was still pissed off; a hangover
three days in the making tends to do that to your average nutter boy.
Angelus nodded at him; that meant Spike was in position, covering the
back of the house. Ranma held up four fingers.
Four seconds later he sprinted up the steps and calmly flicked the lock
out; there was a muffled crunch as it hit something. He smirked and slid
round the doorframe, his Desert Eagle preceding him.
He noticed the muffled chanting immediately; he headed towards it's
source. A dull crunch from the back of the house told him Spike was in;
another crunch from the side would be Angelus making an entrance through
the garage.
The three of them - two vampires and one werewolf - headed rapidly
towards the basement door, from behind which the chant was coming.
Angelus smirked to himself and sprang back out the window; he poised
himself at the coal hatch, waited for the splintering crash that told
him Ranma had just taken the door off it's hinges then smashed through,
coming to a neat rolling halt in the middle of the floor. Willow froze
for two seconds when she saw him.
"Angel!"
Ranma's hand closed on her hair.
"Gotcha bitch." He shoved his Desert Eagle up against her chin.
"Behave an' this don't go off. Any shit an' yer brains hit th' ceilin'."
Spike sauntered into Willow's line of vision.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here... about time things started
going our way, huh Saotome?"
The words were hardly out of Spike's mouth when some instinct sent Ranma
cartwheeling sideways, dragging Willow with him. A pair of taser spikes
smacked into the ground where he'd been standing. Willow screamed. Ranma
sent a hail of .44 Magnum rounds through the smashed coal hatch.
"Shit!"
Spike groaned and pulled his Ingram MAC10 out of his pocket. "Shit, we
were followed! Angelus - take the left! Ranma - get the brat outta
here!"
Ranma snorted. "Yeah, catch ya-" A 5.56 NATO bullet interrupted him by
blasting it's way through his guts, catching Willow just below the
ribcage.
"FUCK!" Ranma spat out a mouthful of blood, dropped the empty clip and
reloaded; halfway through the answering string of shots he sent through
the trashed coal hatch he noticed the the damp stain oozing out of
Willow's stomach. He clamped the injured girl against his side and
shapeshifted to battle form; the Desert Eagle looked like a toy in his
now much enlarged hand.
"Spike - Angelus - get outta here. Meet me at Spike's car, I'm gonna
blast my way there. Got it?" He pocketed the Desert Eagle and drew his
AK47. The two vampires nodded and rocketed out through the roof,
trailing splinters behind them. Ranma snapped the AK's fire selector to
cyclic and started running.
***********************************
Through the haze of pain and shock Willow could hear and feel the
stuttering report of Kalashnikov rifle fire, the deeper bark of M16's
and the large furry armpit she was held in. Everything seemed to have
gone into slow motion; she could make out each bullet as it leapt
spinning from the werewolf's gun, each cartridge case gracefully arcing
over the werewolf's shoulder and each incoming round as he dodged
between them. She could feel the hot, wet stain slowly travelling down
her belly; she was sure she was going to die.
The only other sound she could make out was the roar coming from the
werewolf's throat; it slowly shaped itself into words.
"NO YA DON'T YA FUCKERS!"
The werewolf's foot sailed up, blurringly fast even from her
perspective, and found it's mark on the barrel of one of the attacker's
gun; the M16A3 bent nearly double and spun away into the bushes. The
werewolf's jaws clamped on the attacker's throat and ripped a huge chunk
of flesh free; then his other foot flashed out, sending the corpse
flying after it's wrecked gun.
A line of trees flashed past underneath her; a slight jolt as her captor
touched down, still running.
Her vision started to dim.
***********************************
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Ranma laid the profusely bleeding girl gently
on the sidewalk; he could see Spike's car just off down the street. He
ditched his AK and ripped part of her blouse loose.
Soun's words came back to him in a flash.
"Don't try to do it - do it. Don't think you can - know you can."
He placed his hand over the hideous wound; he could see her eyes trying
to focus on him.
"Sorry, kid - this is gonna hurt like hell."
He pressed down; he could feel skin and muscle parting before his
fingers. He found the bullet, buried deeply in her stomach. Willow
screamed.
The wound squeezed shut behind his hand. Ranma watched her vision clear,
watched the stunned realisation in her eyes.
"Who... who are you?"
"Th' name's Saotome. Ranma Saotome... let's get outta here."
***********************************
"I'm telling you Saotome, we can't trust her."
"Look, shut th' fuck up willya Spike? She owes me bigtime an' she knows
it."
Spike snorted and extracted a strip of webbing from his pocket. It had a
few metal hasps and a pair of small satchels attached firmly to it.
"Saotome, the only way I'm going to trust that brat is if we've got a
killswitch on her. Such as this."
"So what th' hell is it?"
"Some semtex, a remote detonator, an audio bug and some tamper-proofing
in a collar. Oh, and a bunch of epoxy resin - when the fittings are
tightened the epoxy oozes out and seals the whole thing into place."
"That's just plain fuckin' sick, Spike."
"So? It works."
Willow shuddered slightly.
"Look... Ranma... who were those people back there?"
Angelus answered for him. "CIA. That geezer with the mullet and tache
leads their pet supernat assassin team."
"You mean that guy Ranma ate?"
"Yeah. He'll probably walk away from it - he's Amerai. Not sure what
clan." Angelus turned his attention back to Spike and Ranma's argument.
"At any rate Saotome, Spike's right. Our mutual friend Buffy Summers has
this kid wrapped round her little finger. Call it insurance."
"Ya two are dickheads. I saved her life, don't ya think someone's gonna
give a guy th' benefit o' th' doubt that way?"
"More to the point Ranma Saotome, I sincerely doubt Willow Andrayov is
going to give someone the 'benefit of the doubt' as you so succinctly
put it." Spike grabbed Willow, threw her on the table and calmly
fastened the collar round her neck.
"So I'm not giving *her* the benefit of the doubt."
"Dickhead."
Spike smirked. "Cool down, Saotome. If she behaves herself that won't go
off. And when we're all getting out of here - what kind of idiot plants
a bomb he can't defuse? I'm not stupid."
Ranma sighed.
"Okay, Spike. I give up. Yer not gonna cut it out no matter what I say,
are ya?"
Spike shook his head. "No." He turned and glared at Willow. "You. Cook
up a misdirection spell. We don't want anyone tracking us back here -
cloak the whole place. You're a better magi than me; there's all the
gear you'll need in the backroom. Surround the whole place with
misdirection spells right out to the property line."
Willow nodded shakily. Spike grabbed her shoulder just as she was
heading through the door.
"Oh, and by the way - the wire mesh in that collar is a tamper-proofing
circuit. Cut it or cross the circuit and your throat will go straight
through the back of your neck. There's about a quarter of a kilo of C4
in there; plenty enough to turn your neck inside out. Have fun."
***********************************
"SHIT!" Rally nearly put her fist through the dashboard.
May groaned.
"Oh, great. Someone beat us to her."
"No shit Sherlock." Tiger remarked, feeling very cramped in the back
seat. "May, come with me - let's check it out."
May popped the door and stepped out; Tiger flipped the seat forwards and
unfolded, cracking her stiff back as she straightened up for the first
time since getting in the Mustang.
"Damn, why do they have to make these cars so fucking cramped?"
"Tiger, you're over six foot six. That's well above average for a *guy*.
Plus you're about three foot across the shoulders - you'd need a truck
to fit comfortably."
Tiger shrugged and pulled the .50 Browning out of the back seats. "Shut
up, runt. Vincent, you cruise round the block - we'll be done in two
minutes. Let's go."
The two of them stalked off towards the bullet-scarred house that
belonged to Willow Andrayov.
Six down, Fuck-knows-how-many to go.
NOTES
Next - Let the merry-go-round begin...
Laters,
Calum J. 'DogHead' Wallace
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Alternator - Higher tech version of a generator.
Artic - The UK term for a semi truck. Short for 'articulated lorry'.
Astro-Creep 2000 - The title of a White Zombie album.
Binned - crashed. Normally means written off. Derived from 'bin' as in
'rubbish bin' (the British term for a trash can)
Chain lube - Motorbike chain lubrication oil. Comes in a spray can and
looks a bit like snot.
Conrod (connecting rod) - The bit of metal that connects the piston to
the crankshaft. Shaped approximately like a flat dumbbell.
Engine clicking - An internal combustion engine heats up when run. Run
it hard and it heats up more, then when you switch off the engine will
start emitting a series of sharp clicks as the metal cools and
contracts.
Final drive - the drive chain that goes from the gearbox to the back
wheel and the cogs (final drive sprockets) that it runs on. Not to be
confused with the primary drive - the chain/sprocket or belt/pulleys
between the engine and gearbox.
Gasflowing - trimming off excess metal from inside the cylinder heads to
aid the burn rate of fuel within the engine. Gives a small horsepower
boost.
Gixer - Slang for a Suzuki GSXR (one of the craziest bikes they make).
Header tank - Tank that contains the spare water for the radiator on a
sealed cooling system as found in most cars and some high performance
bikes.
Honda CG125 - Small single - cylinder 4-stroke road bike. Not very much
of anything but supremely reliable and dirt cheap. It's reliability
stems from having very little to go wrong and a low - revving 4-stroke
engine.
Honda 250 Superdream - CB250. The next up the Honda model range from the
CG125 and just a bigger version of the same.
Honda 500 Superdream - CB500. A CB250 with a bigger bore and heavier
frame.
Honda Fireblade - Insane Honda sportsbike. Mad but beginning to show
it's age.
Kill switch - The engine's 'off' switch. Turns off power to the
ignition.
Kuso - As far as I know this is the Japanese translation of the word
'Shit'.
Lid / skidlid - Slang for a crash helmet.
Nitrous oxide - Laughing gas. A petrol - nitrous mix burns faster than a
petrol - air mix therefore produces more horsepower and more wear in the
engine.
Ratbike - A motorbike made to look as fucked up and unroadworthy as
possible while still being street legal. Normally painted flat black.
Steering damper - a long, thin shock absorber that fits between the
forks and the frame. Helps steady the steering. A steering damper is
essential for disabled bikers who have lost the use of one arm as
without it there's no way you'd be able to steer at low speed or pull
away one armed.
Stocker - unmodified factory-built vehicle; I think this comes from the
term 'sales stock'.
Supercharger - A pump driven off the crank that forces more air into the
engine thus forcing it to run faster.
Toby - An Inverness Collegeism; slang meaning something along the lines
of widget, gizmo or thingy. Derived from angling parlance (toby = a
small wooden fish used as a lure.) May be related to the epithet 'Toby
Tishbein' and can be said 'Tobyracho' for no apparent reason. (I'm not
making this up! Honest!)
Top yoke - The yokes are two pieces of metal that hold the front forks
together and to the bike. The top yoke is the upper one. Known as
triple clamps in the US.
JASDF - Japanese Air Self Defence Force. The Japanese air force.
JGSDF - Japanese Ground Self Defence Force. The ground forces arm of the
Japanese military.
JSDF - Japanese Self Defence Force. The collective Japanese armed
forces.
What likes - Slack Scottish grammar. Means something along the lines of
'please could you explain that'. Only considerably less posh.
Wheelie bin - a square green plastic trashcan about the size of a normal
bin, with a flip top and two wheels.