Big Trouble in Little Tokyo
A CAPOW fanfic>
By: Emiko's Agent (Ian Kim) & Ryan Matheuszik
[Site note: Sorry Ian & Ryan if it was a bit muddled when I first put it into the site
as "Unnamed" but that is how I got it!!! Fortunately, I was reminded and I seem to have
it still in my news downloads, so here it is, title restored. - Chika]
"You sure this is the place?" Eric leaned back against the car,
letting his hair catch in a passing wind.
"Hey, I don't doubt sources chum. Besides, he's _your_ informant.
This is the place alright. Look here come the players." Ryan finished
chewing up his gum and spat it out. It took three days of no sleep and
no showers, but they managed to find the place. The Neo-Yakuza of CAPOW
had not paid their dues in a long while, and it was time to collect.
Eric's ears twitched impatiendly, his eyes watching the limos and cargo
vans drive up to a warehouse in the valley below. It had been a while
since he was in Genesis and more familar territory...there was some
doubt in his mind as to whether spending this much time with a bounty
hunter was healthy. He had developed a go-tee, some rather disheveled
hair, and an affinity for shotguns, with one concealed snugly under a
black trenchcoat (the blue one was destroyed during a fiasco with an
assasin a few weeks ago).
As the doors of the warehouse swung shut, Ryan drew out his colt .45s,
admiring their shine in the moonlight. Primed and ready to dish out
punishment. "Okay, there's option number one: Enter though the roof,
sniper shot the ones on our list and retreat promptly" He held out a
list of members who had bounties.
Eric nodded. "Then there's option two, " he added. "Let me cast a chi
blast and level the place. They have no hostages, and they've all spent
too much time on the planet anyways."
"Hmph, yeah." Ryan agreed. "But that'd be no fun. So that leaves. . .
" They both grinned at each other, like school boys ready for a party.
"Option number 3!"
The smell of cocaine and every other type of narcotic in the alphabet
wavered through the room as two unwelcome gentlemen entered the room.
It was crowded. Eric's one eye-piece headset made a quick scan, the
green light of the LCD display matching the techno-noir atmosphere of
the black light and marajuana smoke. Ryan led through the crowd,
bumping to several tattooed figures on purpose.
"Nope!" yelled Eric. The beat of the synth sounds were enough to make
anyone deaf; it was twice as powerful on an elf's ears. Luckily he had
the necessary mufflers handy. "Everyone I see is marked with the tatoos
you have told me about, which means--!"
"There _all_ bad my friend!" Ryan grinned, barely able to contain
twinkling eyes under foggy shades. "Excuse me ladies!" he said, shoving
through the crowd. Eric tapped a man on the shoulder, and saw a
familiar face when he turned around. "Good work Akira," complimented
Eric. The ACD officer was dressed quite nicely in a snazzy get-up.
"Now get your ass outta here before the fireworks start."
"Hey, espionage is coo man," the short japanese man grinned, "I could
get into this Neo-Yakuza stuff."
"Ha, funny," Eric grinned, giving him a good wack on the back. "Now
get going." Eric knew Akira could take care of himself, so his eyes and
mind concentrated on the misty room ahead. Attitude in hand and jacket
on shoulders, Ryan walked confindently through the crowd, tapping a few
people on the shoulder. "Hey there Kiyoshi, long time no see." Ryan
winked. "Don't go too far, I want a clear shot at yah."
The japanese man merely snorted. "What you doing here Ryan-san? Go
back to your little hole before you get into trouble!"
"We'll see." Ryan knew quite a few of the drug lords here...all who
could make him very rich from their arrests. They were clearly
unconcerned about the hunger and the pretty boy that waded slowly
through the crowd.
The lady escorts had to be dealt with. "You, leave." Using his
charimsa to it's highest potential, Eric inflicted such a look of
concern and danger that the girls left for the doors without a word.
They moved onto the dance floor. There were several bars near by, a
catwalk above, scattered with people that just reeked the word illegal.
Eric could make out dim rooms in on the sides, undoubtedly where all the
serious dealing when on. Heart thumping with adrenaline, he asked the
question. "Now!?"
Ryan stopped in a clearing and shrugged. "Eh," he called back, "What
the hell!"
Whipping out the long barrel of his weapon in the air, the elf gave and
thumbs up and fired away. One two three four five times into the air,
slicing the thick smoke and wacking the metal ceiling with a satisfying
boom. The cha-ching of the reloader and the discharge of the shells
alone were enough to silence the people around them. After the fifth
shot, even the music stopped. It had begun. "Under codes 24133 and
23564 of the criminal code of the MPD, and codes 23521 and 28452 of ACD
law, you are all under arrest!!" boomed Eric's commanding voice.
Ryan continued, "Please resist so we can kick your sorry asses!"
In a prompt response, there was a huge clamour of metal on metal, the
distinct sounds of rustling coats and weapons being cocked. Some of the
remaining party "escorts" were leaving in a hurry, for in a matter of
seconds over a hundred firearms were pointed at their heads. "Thank
you." murmured Ryan.
"You ready?" Eric whispered under the silence, "'Cause I'm only gonna
do this once." His hands were beginning to burn battle aura.
Ryan pulled the shades closer to his eyes, and with a light tap to the
rim, turned the glass to opaque mode. "After you." he said, arms
folded.
That was all Eric needed to know. "SOLAR LIGHT!!!!"
(start Ryan's part)
Ryan dove as he heard the sound of thugs and goons crying out in agony from
an overload of their visual receptors. Firing a few shots off from memory, he
was pleased to hear the sound of .45 calibur slugs impacting with slow moving
criminals. Then suddenly the -=BOOM=- of Eric's shotgun kicked off the party.
Shots were fired wildly as the less well-trained bodyguards fired at random,
still blinded from Eric's Solar Flare. The ones that escaped Eric and Ryan's
firing were quickly put to rest by some of the better trained bodyguards who
didn't relish the prospect of "friendly fire". Ryan saw the Solar Flare
flicker and die, and quickly took up position between and overturned table
and a jukebox, as the various guards and drug lords regained their eyesight.
Eric ducked into a doorway, still firing steadily at the blinded thugs, and
waited for the real fight to start.
A gruesome sight greeted the drug runners as their eyesight returned. A
large portion of their forces had been cut down, and Ryan and Eric were
nowhere to be seen. Then suddenly, in the corner, the jukebox began to
play, and death rose up from the floor, carrying twin .45s.
Ryan smiled an evil smile as he rose up from behind his cover, Pantera's
"Fucking Hostile" playing on the jukebox behind him. The music had been a
last minute decision, and Ryan hoped Eric would take it as a cue that the
fun was about to begin. A shotgun blast and a scream told him Eric had
gotten the message.
Eric grimaced when the music started. What was with Ryan and heavy metal
music anyways. He stepped from the doorway to see every head in the joint
turned towards Ryan. Feeling left out, Eric decided to get some attention
10-gauge style. He fired into the crowd and was rewarded with several screams
of agony. Then all hell broke loose.
Ryan rolled as gunshots ripped apart the area he had recently inhabited.
He fired three times, and took three thugs out of action. Popping up from
behind some wrecked furniture, he scanned the room for targets. Most of the
remaining thugs were barricaded behind a number of overturned tables, getting
ready to swarm Ryan and Eric. Suddenly a shotgun blast rang out, and a
recently deceased (VERY recently) knife-weilding maniac toppled from a table
just behind Ryan. Ryan looked over towards the source of his salvation and
waved thanks at Eric, and then leveled one of his .45s directly at his head.
Eric looked stunned as the .45 spit out high velocity doom, but seconds
later he was still standing, unlike the thug who had gotten the drop on him
as he shot up Ryan's assailant. He smiled at Ryan, and made his way towards
him.
Fighting their way across the club, Ryan and Eric arrived at the remains of
the bar just as the collected antagonists opened up on their position with a
barrage of fire. Bullets pinged and whizzed off of the bar, and from their new
position behind it, both Ryan and Eric thanked what powers may be that the
interior decorators had decided to go with all steel construction for the bar.
Ryan reloaded his .45s as bottles and glasses disintigrated just over his
head. Eric grabbed a bottle of tequila and took a swig.
"So what do we do now?", he asked, turning to Ryan.
"Well, we could wait for them to reload and try to rush them," replied
Ryan, "Or...". And with that Ryan opened his coat to reveal 3 grenades
strapped to the interior. Selecting one Ryan pulled the pin and counted to
four. he then tossed the grenade over the counter and across the club.
"Nice", said Eric as Ryan threw the grenade, "now what?".
"On three." replied Ryan. The grenade exploded. "Three".
Ryan and Eric vaulted the counter just as the remaining bodyguards broke
from cover and rushed towards the bar. One fell as a solid 10-gauge slug tore
through his body. Another slumped over a broken chair as twin .45s traced a
pattern on his chest. Eric vaulted over a table and threw himself to the floor
as semi-automatic fire roared over his position. He drew a bead on the man
with the uzi and stopped him cold. Meanwhile Ryan waded deeper into the melee.
Half an hour later Ryan and Eric sat in the ruins of the club, waiting for
the local authorities to come by and clean up their mess.
"Well, we got Vinnie The Mook, and Robert Garcia for sure, so just counting
them we've made about 5000$ each..." commented Ryan, looking across the
destruction.
"Ya, well I should get more since I did most of the work." teased Eric.
"You did not!"
"Did too!"
"Liar."
"Anyways," finished Eric, "who do we go after next? I'm beginning to enjoy
this."
Ryan laughed. "You know Eric, I think I'm becoming a bad influence in your
life..."
THE END.
