CHAPTER 12:

“Merci beaucoup, monsieur.” Goku said, smiling, as he handed over his money to the taxi-driver. Stepping out into the wet, soggy evening he huddled the jacket around himself and walked straight into the motel.

His mind whirled with the events of the last twenty-four hours. Somehow, things had slowly begun spiraling out of control and he didn’t feel safe anymore. Looking around him consciously, he tried to figure out why Piccolo would want to have both he and Yamcha killed. ~ Kami! Yamcha….where could they have taken him to?~ Rubbing weary hands across his forehead, he swallowed against the lump that was stuck in his throat. He couldn’t lose Yamcha. His best friend, his companion, his partner…his life.

“I would like a room, please. For one night, thank you.” He spoke to the receptionist. He couldn’t go back to the hotel now. Someone might be there waiting for him and the last thing he needed was for himself to be in trouble. He figured he would stay at the motel for the night and get his head straight and try to find a way to get his friend out of there.

~ And kill that son-of-a-bitch, Piccolo. ~ He growled in anger, causing the young man in front of him to cringe in alarm.

Smiling, he accepted his keys from the flustered man and headed towards his room. Opening the door quickly, he slipped inside and locked it with more force than necessary.

~ You are too jumpy, Goku. Cool it. ~

Removing his coat, he took off his gun and placed it gently on the bedside table. He tried to favor his shoulder as he gingerly took off his shirt and pants. Completely nude, he strolled into the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the small mirror. He frowned as his mind raced to the story he had heard from Vegeta. He now understood the reason for the man’s hatred and quest for revenge. ~ Probably would have done the same thing, myself.~

Running fingers through his hair, he suddenly stopped his motions as sharp ears picked up the sound of someone trying to open his door. Ignoring the fact that he was in his birthday suit, he silently turned the shower on. Thankful that he had just the bedside lamp on, he crept slowly to where his gun lay. Cocking it, he tiptoed to the front door and pointed the weapon towards it. Sure enough, the doorknob seemed to have a life of its own, as it turned and twisted with an effort to be released. Feeling the seconds go by slowly, Goku held his breath. How the hell could someone have followed him? He had been extremely careful. No one knew he was here. Not even Vegeta. So who the hell…..

He jerked up as the door finally gave way and a dark shadow placed a foot inside the door. Moving swiftly, he placed the gun against the temple of the intruder, and speaking in icy tones, he spat out curtly,

“One more step and I will blow your fucking brains out.”

“Cool it, hotshot. It’s me, Dave. Your teammate.” The man replied, raising hands in submission.

“Fuck that! I don’t trust any of you guys anymore! So if you think you are going to come in here and try to bullshit me, you are in for a rude awakening, pal!” Goku said angrily, about to pull the trigger.

Hearing the click of the weapon, Dave began speaking in a hurry. “Look, Goku. I swear it. I am on your side. See, I have no weapon on me. You can frisk me if you like.” Which Goku immediately started doing. Seeing that the man did not have any weapon on him, he relaxed a bit.

“So what are you doing here? And why couldn’t you knock on the door? Were you following me? And where the fuck is Yamcha?!” Goku pelted out, not really giving the man an opportunity to get a word in.

Seeing that Goku was as nude as ever, the man blushed slightly and murmured out,

“Umm…Goku….don’t you think you should put some clothes on? I need to speak to you about something and I don’t think looking at your body…..nice as it is…..is going to help my concentration.”

Snorting in a mixture of irritation and amusement, Goku slid into his discarded pants. Turning around to stare pointblank at his former teammate, he asked curtly,

“Alright, Dave. Where is Yamcha?”

“Do you want me to do it?” Trunks asked, looking out the car window, as he smoothed the mask over his head.

17 kept silent for a minute as he contemplated the situation. Their first mission seemed easy enough. Vegeta had sent them to infiltrate the home of Mr. Yosho, a Hong-Kong businessman, who usually dealt with Bejita in the export of illegal alcohol and drugs.

“Sure.” He finally replied, leaning over to give his mate a quick, breathtaking kiss. “For good luck.” He said, smiling.

Trunks stepped out into the brisk, night air, shouldering his backpack. Giving a quick careful glance around, he gave the thumbs-up sign to his partner and then leapt lithely over the high fence surrounding the huge estate. Dashing in and out of bushes and trees, he made his way towards the side of the house that contained the offices of the rich man.

Moving with the agility of a cat, he climbed the smooth walls and reached the second level. Peeking into the darkened windows, he nodded in satisfaction as he realized he had found the right room. With quick efficiency, he opened up the glass partitions and slipped noiselessly into the large room. Walking up to the doors, he opened them quietly and sticking his head out, he saw that no one seemed to be coming to that particular floor. Closing the doors, he raced over to the computer that was on the office desk. Removing his own laptop, Trunks began his work.

In less than thirty minutes, all of Begita and Yosho’s illegal business files and documents would be transferred directly to the computer screens of Scotland Yard.

The men whistled in appreciation as the shapely woman entered the bar. She smiled and sashayed her way to an empty table, displaying her assets in a tight, black strapless leather dress and high leather boots. Smirking, she opened up her handbag and brought out her compact mirror. Pretending to put on some more lipstick, she carefully watched the customers in the bar.

~ Hn. Vegeta said he was supposed to be here. ~ She thought angrily.

“Hey, beautiful.” A foul breath muttered close to her ear.

Swallowing her disgust, she snapped the compact shut and plastered on the bimbo smile. She turned around to regard the ugly bastard that was trying to pick her up.

“Ooooh….baby…..you are sooooooo hot!” She crooned, as she raised her knees up and gave the man a sharp blow to his nether regions. She watched as the man turned pale and grabbed his crotch, speechless at the pain and then collapsed to the floor in a thud.

“Hey, the babe has got some spice in her.” One of the other men guffawed out in laughter.

~ Great! Just what I needed. A bar full of morons. Since he isn’t here, I guess I will have to leave. ~

Reaching into her purse, she slipped out the packets of gum. Opening them, she stuck two into her mouth and chewed on it for several minutes. Making sure that no one saw her actions; she removed them and stuck them underneath the table. ~ That should be enough.~ Rising up, she shouldered her bag and was about to head out when another loser came up to her. Grabbing her hands, the moron began to blurt out, drunkenly,

“Come on, sugar, you know you want some of ….” He never got to finish his sentence, as a leather boot was somehow wedged underneath his neck.

“Touch me again and I will stick this up your butt.” She answered coldly. The man released her slowly, shaking in fear.

~ Hmph. What a dump! ~

Spinning on her heels, she strolled out of the bar. Sheryl grinned in satisfaction as she heard the loud explosion. Vegeta would be pleased. She hadn’t found Zarbon yet, but another of Bejita’s establishments was no more.

Growling, Piccolo spat out in disgust as he glared at the quaking man in front of him.

“He hasn’t said anything yet?!” He shouted in both amazement and anger.

“Yes, sir. He says he would rather die than give out any information.”

Piccolo had heard enough. Jumping out of his chair, he stormed down the stairs and stalked angrily up to the bleeding man. Grabbing a hold of Yamcha’s neck, he raised his head up and stared at the barely recognizable face of his former employee.

“Look at yourself, Yamcha. You would gladly take all this beating just for that asshole who doesn’t really care about you?”

Yamcha remained silent.

“Speak up, you bastard!! Where is Goku? And who were you with at the Hotel?!”

“Fuck you.” Yamcha muttered out through bleeding lips as he glared at the green man with hate.

Gritting his teeth in fury, Piccolo buried a fist into the man’s stomach, watching in grim satisfaction as Yamcha howled out in pain. Leaning up to the man’s ear, he whispered harshly, “I do intend to kill you, Yamcha, no matter what happens. I will find your precious Goku and I will do the same thing to him, only it will be a worse punishment.”

Grinning smugly, he turned to his henchmen and barking out, he said,

“I want you all to search every fucking hotel, motel and whatever else you can find. I want Goku here by tonight! Do I make myself clear?!”

“Yes, sir!”

Yamcha groaned as he tried to work his bound wrists. ~Kami…I don’t know how much more I can take. Please, Goku. Where are you? Help me, please. ~

Goku shouldered the backpack and glanced at his companion. Dave was dressed in similar fashion. Both men wore matching black shirts and pants underneath large leather coats. Smiling grimly, Goku slipped on the sunglasses and peeked through the curtains again. Yeah….the car was still there.

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” Goku asked for the millionth time.

Dave sighed and answered tiredly, “I swear it, Goku. I was not followed.”

Goku gave him a look that clearly said, ‘I do not trust you.’

“Whatever. Let’s use the back window, anyway.” He turned around to head out of the room when he glanced back at Dave. “Oh and by the way, if you fuck up….”

“Yeah, yeah. I will be whacked.” The man smiled in reply.

“Hmph. Just reminding you.” Goku smirked. With the grace of a feline, the two men leapt out of the bathroom window and dashed off into the night, heading towards the seaport and Piccolo.

The pleasant sounds of ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ washed over the full opera house. The show was a hit and the main actors were giving the performance of their lives. So was the burly man that sat in the royal box. It was taking all of his acting skills to keep a very interested face, when his mind was racing with thoughts that were bound to set him mad in a few minutes.

~ Kuso! How can all this be happening to me? What the fuck is going on? ~

He had had to listen to yet another whispered message from Zarbon, as news of the destruction that was being wreaked on his various establishments was repeated to him. He gave a wan smile to the Lord and Lady that sat close by, as he clapped absentmindedly.

~ I am sure it is Piccolo. Yes, it must be Piccolo. Kami! I will kill that bastard!! ~

“Bravo! Bravo! Encore!” He yelled with the crowd, as he stood up to cheer. His eyes roamed idly through the people and then he felt the air rush out of his lungs, as his blood ran cold.

~ Kami! No…it can’t be! Marianne! ~

Cold, jet black eyes stared at him from the other royal box. The eyes he had fallen in love with over thirty years ago. Eyes that could see into his very soul. The eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts on a particularly happy day. Eyes that now stared at him with total and complete hate.

~ She is…is….alive!! She looks amazing!! ~

And so she did. Marianne was dressed in the finest of French couture. The velvet purple ball gown she wore, showed off creamy shoulders. She was still pale in complexion, but this was not the body of a sick, dying woman. Instead, she looked strong and healthy. A rosy glow flushed the pale cheeks and the full lips were still pursed in their usual stern position. There was no smile on her face as she stared poigniantly at her former husband. Snorting lightly, she turned around to whisper to her companion.

Bejita felt the blood drain out of his face as the man sitting beside her raised his head. Beneath the top hat, sharp obsidian eyes laughed at him. His family! His Kami-damned family! Vegeta and…and… Marianne!!

“Sir! Mr.Bejita, sir!” The usher tugged at his jacket.

Jerking around sharply, he snapped at the young man. “What do you want?!”

“I am sorry, sir. But, I was told to give you this note.”

Snatching the paper from the boy, he opened it with shaking fingers. Trembling violently, he read the scribbled words,

It’s been so long, Bejita.

Meet me at the Café across the street, immediately after the show.

I will be waiting.

Marianne.

~ Oh, Kami! Marianne. ~

He swiveled his head around to look at them again, but all he faced were empty seats and the lingering smell of his former wife’s scent in the air. ~ Jasmine. ~