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Antidote	By : MadameManga Category: +G to L > GunSmith Cats Views: 4906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own GunSmith Cats, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
********VERY STRONG ADULTS ONLY WARNING!!********

This story is not for kids or the easily offended. It deals with rape and contains explicit sexual words and descriptions, explicit violence and extreme profanity/blasphemy. If you object to reading such things, do not read this story.
This story is based on the Gunsmith Cats manga by Kenichi Sonoda. This is set after the end of the manga, but was written in 2000, before the complete series had been published in English.
I love feedback. All kinds! Please review, or write me at MmeManga@aol.com.
Characters of RALLY VINCENT, BEAN BANDIT, MAY HOPKINS, ROY COLEMAN, BECKY FARAH, GRANNY HAO copyright Kenichi Sonoda and Kodansha Ltd. All other characters and story copyright 2000 by Madame Manga. Do not sell or print for sale without the express written permission of the author. Do not change, plagarize, or distribute this story without the author's name and email address. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only.

Antidote

by Madame Manga

Part Three

"Wouldja get off the damn computer? I can find his office easy�let's go!"
"It's not that simple, Bean," said Rally, tapping keys. Bean stood with both fists on the counter of her gun shop, glaring impatiently at her while she did searches in her bounty-hunter's database. "I like to keep things tidy�that is to say, at least nominally legal." She clicked the print icon. "He have any aliases?"
"Naw. Keeps up a legit front and runs his scams nice and careful."
"Then I think I have everything I can get from this. I called Becky on the way here and she's on it, and Roy was very cooperative." She stood up and retrieved the printout she had made. "Just let me get a box of shotgun shells, and we can carry all this out to the car. Mine, since he'll recognize your Corvette."
"I'm drivin'."
Rally looked at him while she unlocked her ammunition cabinet and took out a box of ten-gauge buck loads. "Fine, we can go by your place and you can get a different car. Two cars might be a good idea."
"No, I mean�" Bean stopped. "OK, two cars." He scooped up the burglary kit and rifle bag she had put on the counter. Rally adjusted the armored vest she had donned under her professional outfit, pulled on her suit jacket and followed him outside with a sawed-off shotgun in hand.
"We'd better go by your place anyway, so you can change."
"Change into what?" Bean glanced down at his jeans, now even grubbier and more wrinkled. "Shit, I guess I need a shower..."
"You've got some outfit that looks like it belongs in an office complex, right? A suit? I'd like us to pass as wage slaves, even if it's only for a few minutes." She took her car keys out of the little purse she had brought along.
"I ain't got no neckties, but I got a suit. Armored, but it looks sort of normal."
"That'll do."
The wind whipped up dry leaves along the street as they loaded the equipment into Rally's GT-500. The sky had gone grey and unsettled, rain threatening for the afternoon, though it was not yet noon. "I wish May were here," said Rally half to herself, opening her driver's door.
"Think we're gonna need some explosives?"
"For the shock value, perhaps. I brought a couple of flash-bangs from her stash. I'm not out to kill his people�you think there's about half a dozen?"
"Yesterday, yeah. Today, who knows?"
"I've arranged for some interesting news for Mr. Henry, so we can probably take him by surprise. Bean, there's still a lot of Kerasine in your system. How are you feeling?"
"I'm standing, ain't I?" He put on his sunglasses, though the light wasn't strong. She thought his face looked a little pale.
"If you aren't up to a hundred percent, I need to know before it matters."
"Babe, me at less than a hundred percent is still A-1 grade, so don't get yer tail in a knot." Bean got in his car and slammed the door. When he pulled away from the curb, Rally fell in behind him, and they took off. Bean led her out to the freeway, speeding all the way. Her phone rang.
"Becky?"
"Hey, Ral. This is going to run you about two grand, hon. Rush job, but I got the info."
"Hit me."
"Nick Henry has been operating in Chicago for about four years. Milwaukee before that. He's been a small-scale con man, like you said. But eight or nine months ago he started throwing his weight around. He made a bundle on get-rich-quick scams on the Net, and he's gone upscale. Hired an army of thugs, leased a whole floor in a high-rent building. His speciality is getting retired people to invest their IRA withdrawals with his company. They get great returns for a few months, then it dries up. Of course it's a pyramid scheme, and he's getting ready to make a big move�probably to South America, if I don't miss my guess. The Feds have gotten wind of him and they are getting close."
"No kidding. That's great news, Becky�it means I probably won't get slapped on the wrist for this... You think he's getting out of town soon?"
"He gave notice on the office space and he's been settling old scores. I had to do a lot of cross-referencing to link these cases, but it's solid, and it jibes with gossip. And�this is interesting�" Becky chuckled. "Most of them seem to involve Kerasine."
A prickle ran down Rally's spine. "Involve Kerasine? How?"
"One enemy of his walked into a police station and confessed to a long list of crimes. Tested positive for K. He's doing fifteen-to-twenty. Another enemy pissed on a crime boss's limo, with Mr. Big's bodyguards standing right there. Paralyzed for life, positive for Kerasine again. 'Proud Mary' Cunningham�you know the vice queen? She got nabbed soliciting a police officer. In uniform, sitting in his squad car. This guy's got a nasty sense of humor."
Rally blew out a deep, hard breath. "I gather that."
"He's obviously got access to a stash of the stuff. No indication that he's dealing, so he probably bought a supply and has been using it as he sees fit."
"He didn't kill the rest of them...why try to kill Bean?"
"Bean beat the crap out of him just a little while ago. The story's all over the street. He's hated Bean's guts for years anyway, and he's probably humiliated and furious. No one seems to know how it started, but apparently it was something small and Henry's escalated it over time. And�this is just a theory�Henry's been practicing for the big operation. All the others were warmups to today."
"Interesting. Why would he have picked me to kill Bean?"
"Probably on reputation. I couldn't find any connections between him and you. I think he turned up your name while he was investigating Bean. The word on the street�well, it links the two of you in more ways than one. The rape scenario might appeal to Henry's sense of...humor."
"I am definitely going to extract that for him..." muttered Rally. "How about the doctor? The one who administered the Kerasine to Bean?"
"Haven't tracked that one down yet. He might not be a real doctor, of course. He's probably got some medical training, to ensure the victims don't die from OD before the performance. The playout seems to be important to Mr. Henry. He'll be aching for news by now. Man, it was lucky you talked Bean out of it! Eeek!" Becky let out a girlish squeak. "I can't imagine anyone even going on a date with that big monster!"
"Yeah, lucky," said Rally. "Any surveillance on Bean? Would he be tailing him to make sure he did as told?"
"Not likely. He's been careful about anything that will link him to these incidents. He'll lay low and keep the TV on."
"What's the address?"
"4013 Greenpark, in Wilmette. CyberNet Associates."
"Thanks, Becky. I'll send that two grand as soon as we finish up."
"Good luck, girl. Um...on second thought, it's free."
"You feeling all right, Becky?"
"Ha, ha," said Becky sarcastically. "Better take me up on it before I change my mind. Honestly, though, I'd stomp the guy's balls for you if I was there. It's on the house."
"Thanks, Becky."
Rally clicked the phone off and sped up to keep on Bean's tail. Her phone rang again, and she let it go for a few seconds as she changed lanes and took an off-ramp after him. Bean glanced into his rear-view mirror, but he didn't smile. Rally picked up her phone.
"Hey, Rally? It's Roy."
"Thanks, Detective! Is the word out yet?"
"Sure is. It'll probably run on the twelve o'clock news in thirty minutes. What the heck is this all about, anyway?"
"It's complicated, Roy. But the collar depends on it�I'll tell you more later. With luck, I'll have something big, and you can take all the credit."
"Am I going to want credit?"
"Sure you will. It's going to one-up the Feds, if that makes any difference."
"Heh," said Roy. "That has a good side and a dirty downside..."
"Just smile and nod mysteriously. You'll get a citation."
"Oh, boy..." muttered Roy, and signed off.
Bean took a few turns and slipped into a street that ran under the El, a run-down district with more than its share of abandoned buildings. The grey sky seemed to merge with the cracked concrete walls.
The Corvette stopped at a driveway, Bean hit a remote, and a rusty steel door slowly rose to reveal an underground garage. Bean drove down with Rally following, and they parked next to a line of cars�Bean's large collection of vintage muscle machines.
Rally wished she was in the mood to admire them, but she got out and followed Bean up the stairs to the first floor. His quadruple-locked door on a bleak uncarpeted hallway opened with a big ring of keys, and he gestured her inside.
"Ain't much. Have a seat, I won't be long."
Rally sat on a black leather couch that faced a king-size platform bed. The place looked about the same as it had when she and Misty had broken in, but she wasn't about to comment on that. Untidy but spare, and a little depressing, the windows sealed with cement blocks.
A big clock hung high on the wall, but he had no pictures or even an illustrated calendar. Bean's apartment held a minimum of furniture, except for steel storage cabinets that took the place of closets. She noticed a stack of pizza boxes and occasional takeout burger bags among the scattered beer cans.
Bean opened a cabinet and took out a grey suit, throwing it on the bed, then found a dress shirt and bolo tie. He took an armful of clothes into the bathroom with him and shut the door.
He hadn't made his bed and the sheets looked as if he'd thrashed all night. Rally got up and pulled the spread up to the head, then picked the pillows off the floor and tossed them where they belonged. She then found a trash bag and collected all the beer cans and fast-food detritus. His kitchen sink hadn't been scoured in months, so while she was on a roll she hunted around for a can of cleanser and a brush.
What was she doing? Trying to stake a claim on him? When Bean came out of the shower with slicked-back hair and clean clothes, the place actually looked decent, if still like a bachelor pad.
He stopped short and looked around with a confused frown, then shrugged and turned to her, jingling his keys. "I'm gonna take the C4. That jibe with the image?" The suit fit him well, obviously custom-made with a Kevlar lining, and lent him a different air, even more formidable than leather and denim, if possible. He still didn't look like a man with a desk job.
"More or less. It's the least conspicuous car you own, but that isn't saying much. Need anything else from here?"
"Nope, I'm set. Unless you want to stick around and clean up behind me some more." He cast a skewed look at her. "You're gonna do enough of that today without pickin' up my trash."
"No charge. I like things tidy." Somehow she had been trying to tidy up the whole situation, clean it up into something ordinary and stereotypical. It made no sense, but she clung to the illusion as if she could make it come true.
Bean laughed, and she laughed with him, if only with relief to see him smile. A barrier seemed to open for a moment. Their gazes met across his bed, Bean's expression changing until he looked soberly into her face, his eyes direct but guarded. Rally stood still, waiting. Her mind drew pictures of herself on Bean's bed, and when he didn't speak she looked down to keep him from reading them too plainly. Bean cleared his throat.
"It's in Wilmette. I'm gonna take the Edens north." He turned to the door.
Rally looked up again, her throat constricting. "Can't you say anything about it? Are you really going to forget it ever happened, once this is over?"
Bean stopped, a small jerking movement of his head his only obvious indication of unease. "What's to say?"
She could feel an edge creep into her voice. "While we were making love. You said...well, what you said wasn't the important thing. It was the way you said it." She felt dangerously close to tears. Bean stood with his back to her and one hand on the top of the closed door.
"Yeah?" said Bean with studied unconcern. "I don't remember. Kinda fuzzy."
"You said you remembered everything."
"Heck, my mind was kinda screwed up, Vincent. Don't pay any attention to what I said."
"You are still toked to the gills on Kerasine, I guess."
"I ain't feelin' that now. It's gone."
"Gone?" Her voice cracked.
Bean made a fist against the door, still not looking around. "What the hell you want to hear? I got the monkey off my back, and I guess you didn't hate it too bad."
"Well, I'm glad you remember that, at least."
He made an exasperated gesture, flinging the door open. "Just an antidote, like you said. Nothin' at all! You didn't want it to mean nothing, remember?"
"I didn't mean�"
"Come on, lady. It ain't the time to rehash. We've got a job to do!"
"I'm not arguing. Let's go," said Rally, and walked out and down the stairs again.
She got into her GT-500, turning on the radio to the all-news station, and Bean revved up his red C4 Corvette, a less powerful car than the black Shark, but still a sleek, mean-looking vehicle with a serious engine rumble. They roared up the ramp to the street and Bean took the lead. Out on the freeway again, and then into Wilmette, an upscale area of offices and malls. Her cell phone rang.
"Hey," said Bean when she picked it up. "There's the construction site the guy left my car in. He drove this way, and I remember the turns, so I bet I can find it."
"I got the address�it's�"
"Don't tell me, huh?" He laughed shortly. "I just want to prove how dumb that bastard is."
"Go ahead." Rally changed lanes to follow the red C4. "Um...Bean, while we're on the line..."
"What?" he said impatiently.
"How did this feud with Nick Henry start? Specifically."
"Why?"
"I don't know. It might be important, or it might be trivia. Tell me, please."
"I dunno. He tried to hire me for a job. I get there and he wants to talk the price down. I tell him I don't work on a sliding scale. He keeps trying to negotiate. I was gonna leave and I lit a cigarette. He went through the goddamn roof. Starts squeaking about carbon monoxide and consideration for his breathing space and the welfare of the frickin' planet. Then he hauls car exhaust into it�I think he told me I was a traitor to my mother earth for drivin' anything without a damn smog choke."
"Uh-oh."
"Yeah, I didn't cotton much to that. I blew a lungful in his face, and I left. Next thing I know someone slashes a tire on my Boss when I'm running late on a job and it's raining buckets. I had to give a ten-thousand dollar discount, and I was wet clear through to my shorts. Pissed me off. Didn't know who it was until later. Two or three times since then, he's pulled something like it. Last month I kinda lost my temper, because he cost me fifty grand by tellin' lies. I paid ten grand more to find him on his own, and I whipped his ass."
"How badly did you hurt him?"
"Enough. He's probably still feelin' the bruises. I didn't break any bones."
"You're so sure about that?"
"Yeah. I know how hard I'm hittin'. I wasn't tryin' to kill him or nothin'."
"Good."
On a tree-lined street stood a new six-story granite and glass complex, surrounded by parking lots. Bean pulled in and stopped the Corvette in a space some distance from the buildings. Rally drove a hundred feet past him and also parked, getting out with her burglary kit and jogging back to Bean where he stood by his car.
"That building, the closest one. What's the procedure?" He pointed with his chin, watching several office workers getting into their cars.
"It's lunch time, and it's Friday, so everyone's going out. The offices will be pretty empty in another ten minutes, but I'd bet Henry's staying by the phone. He wants to hear about it as soon as it happens, and he doesn't want to be in public when the news comes in." She reached into Bean's car and switched on the radio.
"...WCBX news at noon. I'm Cynthia Ray. In other stories, a fiery crash is likely to claim the life of an unfortunate driver, who so far remains unidentified by Chicago police. A police spokesman says John Doe had been shot several times with a large-caliber handgun, and apparently lost control of the car when he passed out from his wounds. He suffered second and third-degree burns over eighty percent of his body and is not expected to survive. Police are asking for help in identifying the man, who was driving a black 1968 Corvette with stolen license plates."
"Ooh!" said another deejay. "That's gotta HURT! He wrecked a '68 'Vette?!"
"No kidding! Gee, I'm caring more about the car than this dumb crook!" The radio crackled with coarse laughter. "...Well, here's what the cops would like the public to hear. The victim is described as mixed-race, six foot seven inches tall�wow, what a beanpole!�two hundred and fifty pounds, black hair, brown eyes. If you have any information about this shooting, please contact Detective Roy Coleman at the Chicago police department, 555-8213. Now, traffic."
"So I'm officially burned to a crisp?" said Bean. He squinted at Rally with a a hint of wariness. "You picked a helluva way to get me dead."
"Not dead�that's too easy to confirm. Almost dead. Which is his office?"
"Sixth floor."
"From what Becky said, he has the whole floor. That would mean the elevator lobby is locked out on that level. I can take care of that." She patted the burglary kit, housed in a nondescript attache case. "Misty gave me some lock-picking lessons. I'm going to try the low-key approach first. If we meet opposition, I think a full-court press should do nicely. Be prepared for grenades...but I think that's all I can say without knowing the layout."
"Piece of cake." Bean gave her a smirk.
Rally smirked back, and checked her CZ75 in its holster. "Let's go." They walked across the parking lot and into the building's lobby. Rally checked the directory by the elevators. "CyberNet Associates, sixth floor. Good sense of direction you got there, Bean." She punched the button. One set of doors opened, and a group of men and women got off, some of them doing a double-take at Bean, but no one asked any questions. Rally and Bean entered the elevator and rode up, Bean cracking his knuckles with a thoughtful smile.
"Man, I'm lookin' forward to this."
"Keep cool, OK? There's more at stake than revenge."
"Like what?"
"Like setting some things right�" The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and the doors opened.
"Going down?" said a young man with an attache case.
"No, up," said Rally, and pushed the button to close the doors. The man got on anyway and hit the button for the lobby, then glanced at Bean while the elevator continued to the sixth floor.
"Hey, you look familiar...didn't I see you yesterday?" Bean didn't reply.
"I know I did, down in the garage with Henry's guys�hey, you're dressed up today. Looking good." He ran his eyes up and down Bean's body. "You a new hire for the goon squad?"
"Not yet," said Rally blandly before Bean could retort. "We're going to talk to Mr. Henry again. Have any suggestions for an in?"
"What're you, this hunk's manager?"
"Close enough." The elevator stopped and the doors opened.
"Well, you know what? Don't smoke around him. He hates tobacco."
"Thanks," said Rally, and stepped off the elevator. "That's one thing I've got in common with him." The doors closed, leaving her and Bean standing in a small enclosed space with one exit opposite the elevator. It had a narrow vertical window and an electronic key card lock. "And of course, with Adolf Hitler..."
Rally dropped to one knee and opened the burglary kit. "Let's see...there's a decoder for these things in here." She produced a scanner and waved it in front of the lock box. The door clicked, and Rally quickly closed the case again and pushed the door slightly open.
"Let me do the talking, OK?"
"Go for it," said Bean, and they walked through.
A receptionist looked up from her desk. A huge NO SMOKING sign hung on the wall behind her. "Hello�hey, who are you?"
"We're here to see Mr. Henry. He in?"
"How did you get in? You're not CyberNet employees." She reached for her phone, but Rally's CZ75 blocked her movement.
"I said, we're here to see Mr. Henry." She jerked her head at Bean, and he moved around the desk and headed for the hallway leading to the offices. "Get up." Rally pointed the barrel of her pistol at the door to the elevator lobby. "Leave now, if you know what's good for you. And don't call security, because I'm here on a warrant." She flashed her bounty hunter's ID. The receptionist blanched, grabbed her purse, and fled.
"Warrant?" said Bean, peering down the hallway.
"So I'm exaggerating. Which way?"
"Not sure. They probably stuck me in a supply room or something. But he'll have a corner office."
"Just a sec," said Rally, scurried back to the reception desk, and picked up two adhesive visitor's badges. Sticking one to her jacket and one to Bean's suit coat, she holstered her pistol. "Let's stroll casually as if we belonged here. It won't last long, but every second counts."
"That way," said Bean, pointing to the left. "I think I smell the bastard." Rally cocked a brow at him, but led the way down the hall past cubicle walls and potted plants. The place looked perfectly legitimate, with computers and laminated desks in the cubicles and fluorescent light boxes overhead. A couple of the cubicles were occupied, but the place was mostly empty.
They passed a copy machine and a water cooler with another huge NO SMOKING sign and a poster encouraging carpooling. A man in shirtsleeves and necktie came out of a cubicle as they approached.
"Can I help you?"
"We've got an appointment with Mr. Henry," said Rally with as sweet a smile as she could muster. "Is that his office?" She pointed behind her.
"No, it's the west corner�down that way�but you're early. It's his lunch hour."
"Well, maybe we can get everything squared away sooner than we thought�" She brushed past him.
"Hey! He won't want to be disturbed. He's meditating." The man tried to block their path.
"Meditate this," said Bean, leaning down and taking off his sunglasses.
"Holy shit," squeaked the man, and took off between the cubicles. "Security! We got problems!"
"Shit," said Rally. "Bean! Head for the office! I'll cover you!" Bean passed her and ran down the hallway, taking a left turn along the outside windows. She banged the attache case open and took out the sawed-off shotgun.
A bald man, built like a dump truck, appeared behind her. "You! What the hell do you�"
Rally pumped the shotgun and leveled it at him, jogging backwards to catch up with Bean. "Bounty hunter! Butt out and you won't get hurt!"
"Bounty hunter? Mr. Hogan�?"
Another large man with a shoulder holster came around the corner in pursuit, and shouted in sudden alarm. "Oh SHIT�Donohue, get the boss outta here! It's RALLY VINCENT!"
"Fuck!" said the bald man. "Who's that guy with her?"
"Guy?" Hogan advanced, hands held out and eyes on the shotgun. "Come on, Vincent�cool down."
"He's heading for the boss's office�some big motherfucker!"
"Big? OH, SHIT!" Hogan turned and ran back the way he had come, taking a turn to the right. He would probably cut Bean off before he got there�Rally reversed direction and ran after him. Donohue tried to grab her as she passed him, but she stiff-armed him in the face and he cracked his head on the copy machine. BKAM! Hogan drew a .45 automatic and fired at her over his shoulder as they ran along the hallway. BKAM!
Rally dodged, switching hands on the shotgun and whipping out her CZ75. KRAK! The .45 went spinning out of Hogan's hand and he howled with his right forefinger gone, falling to the carpet and grabbing his right hand in his left. Rally vaulted over him and kept going.
The maze of cubicles confused her for a moment, but she ran into the next one, leaped on the desk, and jumped the five-foot wall to the adjacent cubicle. She came out ten feet behind Bean, who had nearly reached the corner office.
Bean whipped around at the sound of her landing, gave her a quick smile, and turned to intercept another pair of security guards, who charged at him from in front of the office door.
BAM! Bean blocked a punch and returned it, sinking his fist deep into one security guard's stomach. A left hook sent the man sprawling. Rally darted for the door of the corner office while Bean smashed a fist into the second guard's face.
He followed her in a moment when both men lay moaning on the floor. Two more guards rushed them from behind. Rally lobbed a May special and ducked, covering her ears and holding her mouth open.
BOMF! The flash and concussion cracked all of the nearby windows, and the guards staggered. Bean knocked their heads together. Rally and Bean each took a short breath, and Bean kicked the door open.
A man in glasses scrambled behind one of the expensive leather armchairs in the middle of the room. Another man took a look at the pair and fainted dead away, the drink in his hand falling to the floor and scattering ice over the carpet.
"People!" said someone from behind the huge desk. "What the hell is going on?!" The office's occupant was crouching in the foot well. "I heard shots�don't tell me it's the FBI yet!"
"No such luck," said Rally. She cocked her CZ75 and moved around the desk. "My name's Rally Vincent."
"Huh?" A greasily good-looking man of about thirty peered up at her. The desk held a bottle of ginseng health drink, an ice bucket, and several cut-crystal glasses. Apparently a celebration had been taking place. "What are you doing here?"
"Nick Henry, I presume. I brought somebody with me, but I won't bother to introduce him."
The man popped his head up and took a look at Bean. To Rally's surprise, he didn't dissolve in fear, though he looked startled. Instead he snarled, the effect something like a Doberman puppy bearding a grizzly bear. "Goddammit! I just heard about you on the radio!"
Bean cracked the knuckles of both hands. "No, I ain't dead. Which is more than I can say for you, Nickel and Dime." He walked forward with an ugly expression.
"Hey, Refried Bean," said Henry with nasal sarcasm. "Kiss my ass, you big mongrel." Bean stopped short. "On second thought, let's not get too fruity. Kneel, and kiss the floor."
Rally watched in horror as Bean's face twisted into wild-eyed disgust. He knelt and kissed the floor. "You little shit," he hissed.
"Shut up." Henry turned to Rally. "Wish I'd known you liked it up the chute, sister. I wasn't intending to play matchmaker!"
"What are you doing?� Rally gasped in realization. �The Kerasine�!"
"He's had enough to levitate a team of Clydesdales. I'll be able to tell him to do anything I like for hours yet�isn't that right, Fry?"
The man in glasses scooted around the chair that sheltered him. "Yes. Dammit, Henry, don't�"
"Bean! Get up!"
Despite Rally's order, Bean didn't move from his knees, but he cast a look at her that combined helpless fury and urgent warning.
"Oh, do get up, Bean," said Henry. "By all means. Now, take that gun away from her. Break her arms, too."
Bean lurched to his feet, stood swaying for a moment, then started towards her. Rally backed away, holstered the CZ75, and aimed the shotgun. Hogan and Donohue staggered into the office, bleeding, but with pistols in their hands.
"Back off!" yelled Henry. "Don't interfere!"
"But, boss!" said Donohue. Bean brushed by him in pursuit of Rally, and he jumped back. "Everyone else's out cold or�"
"Get out of here. Start loading the truck. Don't forget the wall safe! Go!" Henry pointed, and they left, but not without an appalled glance at each other.
"This ought to be wild," said Henry. "Either you take his head off with that shotgun, or� Hey Bean, after you finish breaking bones, screw her. Right here on the floor." He laughed and clapped his hands together. "I wished I could watch the results of this little plan, and now... Hot damn! Thanks for dropping in! You just made my fucking year!"
"After a scene like that, you think you can get away with this?!"
"Sure I can." He bared his teeth in a smile. "You broke in and threatened me with a firearm, remember? If both of you end up shot dead by my security men, too bad!"
"Uh...let me out of this," said Fry. He was patting the unconscious man's face. "I'm getting the hell out of here, Henry! I'm not going to watch�"
"Wimp!"
"Bean, no!" shouted Rally, warding him off with the shotgun. "Fight it!" His face worked, but he kept coming.
"Say, how did you figure out it was me?" said Henry conversationally, sitting down and pouring himself another drink. "He couldn't have broken his orders, huh, Fry? You softened him up all the way and he's got no will of his own!"
"Oh yeah? Guess again." Rally darted around the desk to avoid Bean, then grabbed Henry's collar and got him in an armlock. She put the shotgun to his temple. "Stop him, or I give you some unscheduled plastic surgery!"
"What's that going to look like when the cops get here, hon? I don't think a law-abiding bounty hunter is going to risk getting arrested for murder!"
Rally hissed in anger, then let Henry go and stepped back. He sneered at her, straightened his tie, then let out a choked gasp when she drove the shotgun butt into his stomach. "I think I'll risk getting arrested for aggravated assault, you son of a bitch!" She belted Henry across the face and he fell. "Bean!" she shouted, evading his grasp as he came around the desk at her. "Stop it! You don't want to do this!"
He obviously didn't want to hurt her�his face told her that�but he could neither speak nor halt his advance. Rally gritted her teeth and squeezed her trigger. BOOM! A tight spray of buckshot caught Bean square in the stomach, knocked him back a step and doubled him over.
When he straightened, the pellets pattered to the floor in a cloud of smoke and scorched fibers. She'd blown a hole in the outer fabric of the suit coat, but the Kevlar underneath had held, as she'd gambled.
BOOM! Rally pumped the shotgun and fired again, deliberately aiming at Bean's chest, in case the armor wouldn't withstand two blasts in the same spot. He staggered, but didn't fall. His face set in a grim smile above the smoke and a trickle of blood worked from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.
To her surprise, Bean unbuttoned his coat and threw it off, leaving his torso unprotected. Because the armor was useless now, or because he wanted her to be able to stop him? Another blast from her ten-gauge would cut him in half, as he certainly knew!
Fry left the unconscious man and scrambled for the door. Rally gave chase with Bean on her heels. She caught Fry just outside the office, knocked him flat and slammed the door on Bean. Wedging the shotgun stock against the door jamb, she held it with all her strength. Bean crashed against the door.
"You!� she called to Fry. �Can you stop him?"
"I...don't know..." Fry got up on his elbows. "Maybe."
"How?"
"He's been imprinted on Henry, not me. But I was the one who did it..."
"Having some regrets, I hope?"
"Yes. That weasel blackmailed me into working for him. I'm a medical student�I've got gambling debts. This is the first time he tried to kill someone, but he makes me sick!"
CRASH! The door scraped open half a foot. "So tell Bean that Henry wants him to stop! Now!" She released the door and Bean burst through. He grabbed the shotgun and yanked it out of her hand. "Come on! Hurry!" She leaped onto a desk and drew her CZ75.
"Bean," said Fry. "M-Mister Henry says stop. Don't hurt her!"
Bean stopped, breathing hard.
"Mr. Henry doesn't want her arms broken. He said to tell you to stop. Don't carry out the order."
Bean lurched back and put a hand to his head. He tried to speak, but nothing came out, and his eyes darted to Fry.
"Henry told him to shut up," said Rally, cautiously getting down from the desk.
"Bean, Mr. Henry says you can talk."
"Shit!" was Bean's first word, and he slammed back into the office.
"Golly gee," said Rally, looking at Fry. "You mean, all I had to do was 'Simon says'?"
"It wouldn't have worked for you, no." Fry collapsed in a chair, where Rally cuffed him. "How did you keep him from raping you?"
"How do you know that I did?" snapped Rally, and left him to chew on that. She followed Bean into the office, where Henry had just staggered to his feet, as had the man who had fainted. "Not one word, Henry. Not one fucking word, or I break your jaw with a nine-millimeter." She leveled her pistol at his face. "Bean, do what you came to do."
The formerly unconscious man went for a gun. Rally shot it out of his hand and Bean grabbed him by the shirt. "Hey, I know you. You drive a freakin' red Prelude, don't ya?" He lifted the man clear of the floor. "You must be in this up to yer neck. No wonder you conked out when you saw me."
"You..." gasped the man, scrabbling at Bean's hand as he dangled from it. "You can't...get away with�"
"Want to watch me?" Bean shifted his grip and threw the man upwards, his skull cracking on the ceiling. Panels popped loose and fell. Bean then tossed him aside to land on the big desk; everything on it shot to the floor, and the man rolled off and lay limp again.
Henry's face now held every bit of dismay Rally could have hoped for. He backed towards the windows, waving his hands helplessly in front of him. Not more than five foot nine and a hundred and fifty pounds, he looked like a child behind Bean's towering bulk.
Bean grabbed one hand and gave it a vicious twist. The wrist snapped, and Henry screamed. Bean let go and wrenched Henry's other arm, dislocating his shoulder, then broke the forearm over his knee like a twig.
"That's what you told me to do to her! Feel good?"
Henry continued screaming in a high thin voice.
"I ain't gonna fuck you, though," went on Bean. "You little punk faggot! I'm sure as hell gonna grind you into dogmeat!" KRUNCH! He kicked Henry in the testicles and doubled him over. Rally flinched. Bean locked his hands together and did an upward spike into Henry's face.
BAM! Henry jerked upright, making no sound, but he had bitten through his lower lip in agony and his right eye was swelling dramatically. Horror surged through her. What had she just unleashed?
WHAM! Bean's right fist landed with a thunderous sound, blood and teeth spraying in every direction. Henry hit the glass and bounced off, his flapping arms up over his smashed mouth while Bean pulled back for another shot.
"Stop it!" Rally burst out. "He's been punished enough!"
"No, he ain't!" KRAK! Henry's nose caved in.
"I wasn't hurt! He didn't do me any harm!" She grabbed Bean's elbow and tried to stop his swing, but he lashed out with a left hook and knocked Henry to the floor. "Stop, Bean, please! This isn't self-defense!"
"This ain't none of your business, babe!" roared Bean. "THIS IS FOR WHAT HE DID TO ME!"
He shook her off and stomped on Henry's left knee; the bones ground audibly and Henry let out a horrible wail. Out of the back of his waistband Bean whipped a huge bowie knife. "Tell me to screw her, huh? I'm gonna cut your goddamn prick off and shove it up your�"
"That's ENOUGH, BEAN! I am not going to stand here and watch you KILL HIM!" Rally fired just above Bean's head, close enough to his scalp to clip a lock of hair. The window behind him shattered, letting in a gust of cold wind. He whirled on her, his teeth set in a wolfish grimace.
"He screwed with my head, babe! That's worse than killin' me, and he's going to die!"
"No, he's not. I'm calling in that marker!"
"What?"
"You said you owed me, and you do. You want to repay the debt? Don't commit murder!"
Bean stopped short, his clenched fist trembling in the air. "You ain't serious."
"I am serious. Back off." She aimed her pistol.
"This bastard got you raped! He made me into a freakin'�"
"Is that what you think?"
"What the hell else would I think?"
"He didn't. He failed. He's going to jail."
"How you going to get the cops to hold him? There ain't no evidence!"
"I think we've got a witness. Even if he won't testify, this office is full of evidence for a whole lot of other things�" She gestured at the computers.
"You ain't got no search warrant for those."
"I can get Roy down here in fifteen minutes with one. The Feds are already preparing an indictment for Henry's financial dealings, and I can add a bunch of other charges. Leave him to me, Bean. Your part's over."
He stared at her, still with knife ready. Henry moaned like a lost soul between Bean's feet, face mashed beyond recognition. "Lady, I ain't gonna pretend to understand that."
"You don't have to. Just do as I say."
"Shit," said Bean, and put the knife away. "All right, that marker's called." He turned his back on Henry, picked up his ruined suit coat, felt for his Marlboros and lit a cigarette.
Rally knelt and checked Henry's pulse. He was going into shock, not surprisingly, and she put her jacket over him to keep him warm, then took a pillow from one of the chairs and put it under his head. Most of his front teeth were broken or knocked out, his eyes were swollen shut and dark purple, and he rasped his breaths through a bloody mess of a nose.
She took out her cell phone from the jacket and dialed 911, asking for an ambulance and a squad car, then called Roy.
"It's over. Come to this address, and bring a truck for the computers. You're going to be going over the records here for months."
"Oh, thanks," said Roy with some irony. "I always like to get chained to a desk in the winter time."
"Then I'm outta here," said Bean, stepping on his cigarette.
"Yes, you'd better go," said Rally, tucking away her phone. Bean put his hands on her shoulders from behind, and she jerked. "Hey! What do you think you�"
Fry called through the door. "Henry told him to have sex with you when he'd finished breaking bones! Bean, don't touch�"
"Naw, that ain't it," said Bean. "This is me." He turned her around. "You want to talk about it? I'll look you up later." Rally stared blankly into his face, her mind purged of any softer feelings towards him. What had she been thinking? Bean as her lover? He was a beast of prey, not a man... He leaned down as if to kiss her, and she turned her face away.
"Hell," he said softly, and released her. "Forget it, then."
"Please do. Just go."
Bean wheeled and left. A thin wisp of smoke from his discarded cigarette rose into the air.
"Would you put that out, please?" burbled Henry through shredded lips. "I really hate that smell..."
*
Seven hours later when she finally got home, hungry as a wolf and aching in mind and body, Rally pulled into her dark driveway and slumped over the wheel of her GT-500. Rain began to speckle the windshield, but for a moment she had no energy even to unlatch the door.
What a day this had been.
On top of it all, she'd had to repeat an edited version of the story over and over, trying to mollify Roy and the Feds alike. Explaining Henry's injuries had taxed her inventiveness, since she had resolved not to bring Bean's name into this if she could possibly help it. A few well-pointed threats to all participants, and she was sure none of them would say a word, for fear of Bean if nothing else. Rally hoped she would never, ever have to do again anything she had done today.
Anything at all, good or bad, and that included those few moments in which she had seemed to touch something wonderful, a connection of mysterious joy with heart and body. Why, oh why, did Bean have to be the conduit for such a discovery? Some cruel fate bound them, when that kind of emotion could grow from his drug-poisoned efforts to rape her. Neither of them would ever be the same for that revelation.
Could it be true, that no matter what he did, how much of an animal he was, that something undiscovered in him called to her? He'd never change, would he? Even if he never became the kind of man she had glimpsed for a moment, transported in his arms, suddenly she knew with perfect clarity that for Rally Vincent there would never be any man but Bean Bandit.
That simply meant there would never be any man for her at all, which she had thought she knew already. Rally bowed her head, and got out of the car.
Behind her a car crawled down the side of the street, a car with an impossibly deep engine note even driven at walking pace. Rally halted for a moment, but didn't look around even when the car stopped in front of her house and the door opened. The door closed again and she heard a boot on concrete, but no approaching footsteps.
"Hey, Rally," said Bean when she had almost reached the front door. Turning, she saw him standing under a street light, slouched against the black Corvette with hands jammed deep in his jeans pockets.
"What is it?" she said with a calmness she did not wholly feel. Their eyes met across the driveway.
For a long time he was silent, his expression ambiguous in the dimness, veiled by the sparse rain. She thought she saw something trying to come up for air behind that dark gaze, but when she held his eyes with a consciously cool stare he shifted, folded his arms and straightened up. "Nothing. Forget it."
"Nothing at all," she replied with a single nod. Maybe now he knew what it felt like, though inflicting pain wasn't her reason for leaving the barriers up�more like sparing pain in the long run, but something about the thought felt so bleak that her throat tightened a little as she turned away. She couldn't tell him what Fry had told her, could she? It probably wasn't even true. Bean got out his car keys, and she unlocked her front door.
"Yeah," he said, almost to himself. Rally looked back again. "It was nothing at all, wasn't it? How do you forget nothing?" He got into the Corvette and slammed the door, gunning the engine with a deep rumble.
"I'm not the person to ask," murmured Rally. All right, he deserved to know, and she'd let the situation judge for itself. She raised her voice. "You want to know why you had all those attacks? I asked Fry."
Bean rolled down the window and waited.
"He's so sorry he ever got mixed up with Henry that he spilled everything in front of Roy and a couple of FBI agents Roy brought along. He'll testify about the other victims, but not us. I told him you'd refuse to get involved in a criminal trial."
"Yeah," said Bean.
"I got to speak to Fry alone and I asked him exactly what they had done to you, and if there were going to be any long-lasting effects. He was surprised to hear that you overcame most of the commands on your own, but he thought he knew why you still had those attacks. He got kind of technical, but it boiled down to this. He said it sounded like you were punishing yourself for wanting me. That it must be a very strong feeling, that you hated that in yourself, that you must have felt awful about the way your emotions coincided with some of Henry's orders and made it impossible for you to break them..."
It all came out in a rush and Rally looked down at her hands, recalling just how she had felt when Fry had insisted on his point; Bean was profoundly, unwillingly in love with her, his behavior had no other explanation, and so forth. "I mean, that's what he claimed. When I rejected you, Fry thinks you triggered a combination of the command and your own frustration that I didn't want you, as well as your hatred for your weakness. That was enough, with such a huge dose of Kerasine, to disrupt the flow of blood to your brain.
�I guess he knows what he's talking about, at least, um, in general, it's not like he knows you better than�he's studying psychiatry and organic brain function�or he was. He'll never get a medical license now. He thinks you wouldn't have died, though you might have had some disability, like the blindness."
She fell silent and waited, her heart beating rapidly.
"No shit," said Bean.
"That make any sense to you?"
He paused. "Nah."
She didn't ask if he meant he didn't understand the explanation or if he understood and disagreed with it. "Bean?"
"What?"
"You want to talk about it?"
"Huh?"
"You thought you had raped me? That was why you didn't want to talk about it at first? And then when I told you it wasn't rape..."
"It wasn't?"
"I already said so."
"But...that would kinda mean...you wanted it."
"I guess it would, wouldn't it?"
"Oh." The rain was thickening.
"Get out of the damn car and come inside, Bean. It's wet. I don't want to stand around outdoors."
"Come inside?"
"That's an invitation, Bean."
He looked at her and did as she asked, following her through the door and into the house. When he had wiped his boots on the mat, Rally took off her jacket and turned to him. For a moment, there was silence, and then she smiled. "So, what do you like to do on rainy nights?"
*
At seven o'clock the next morning, her phone rang brightly. Rally fumbled for it and rolled over in bed, and heard her best friend's voice on the line.
"Hey, Ral! We're here, and now I'm going to bed for a while!"
"Oh, hi, May. How was the trip?"
"Hell on wheels! There was a huge tieup outside of Cleveland, and then it started to rain and everyone was spinning out and we blew a tire! I got all wet helping Ken change it, and the motels were all full, so we just drove all night and hit town this morning! I'm exhausted!"
"Mm."
"That's all you've got to say? Mm?"
Bean shifted next to her and opened one eye to look at the clock, then pulled a pillow over his head and clamped it down hard. Rally smiled at him. "Sorry, guess I'm kind of tired too."
"Why would YOU be tired? Sheesh!"
"Just doing a lot of...cleaning up. And I was, uh, up late last night. Didn't get to sleep for quite a while..."
"Ooh, poor baby! Well, you can rest up till next Sunday�then Minnie-May's gonna be back! Enjoy yourself while you can!"
"Sure," said Rally. "The week is young."

END
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