Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Fantaisie Sign ❯ It's Just One Of Those Days When You Don't Wanna Wake Up ( Chapter 18 )

DISCLAIMER: Cowboy Bebop and its characters are owned by the anime companies that made them, and not by me.

Author's Note: This fanfic is in the first-person style, with the POV being Edward's for all but a few chapters (and when the POV is different, I won't switch mid-chapter, the whole chapter will be like that). I've never even attempted doing something like this before, so bear with me.

French Note: For the few (non-generic) French language bits in this fic, I'll be using Babelfish. So pardon my French. ^_^

---

"This is Cecelle Frémont, the leader of the French Syndicate, Rose du Diable. The Neo-Eiffel Tower is now ours, and there is a bomb planted somewhere in the building that we can detonate at any time, killing all inside. If you all cooperate, I assure you that you will all survive and be back to your homes and loved ones by the end of the day... if you all cooperate. If not, the bomb will be detonated, and we will all perish. Do everything that my Syndicate men say, however, and no harm will come to you. That is all."

I put down the PA microphone and turned to the two men standing behind me, holding machine guns in their hands. A corpse lay at their feet.

"Good work, gentlemen," I told them. "Keep this area covered."

"Boss, where will you be?" asked one of them. "Surely not down here where all the action is..."

"You're absolutely right," I said. "I'm going up the tower to ensure that order is maintained and that the Syndicate members are firmly in control. You two stay here and make sure no one gets in."

Without another word, I exited the PA room and headed down a narrow corridor to the ground floor lobby. There, the scene was utter chaos. Excellent... Hundreds of people were fleeing the building, prodded on by the hundreds of Syndicate men that were stationed in the lobby. As for me, I knew I should be as far away from this mess as possible. I casually walked to the elevator and stepped inside. Then, I pressed in the coordinates that would deliver me to the fifth floor.

"The ballroom on the fifth floor may be the site of an uprising," I thought as the elevator swiftly carried me up to the fifth level. "I must be there to quell any sort of insurrection..."

---

When the elevator reached the fifth floor, I stepped outside into the hall. Several people were still running around the halls in a panicky fashion, but my Syndicate men quickly rounded them back up and escorted them back to the large, well-decorated ballroom. The twenty Syndicate men I'd assigned to this floor had done their jobs well, rounding up about thirty or forty hostages to keep inside the ballroom. As I entered, several of the men saluted me.

"Monsieur Fremont, as you have directed, this floor has been taken with little resistance," said Jatel, the man I'd assigned to lead the fifth-floor squad. He was a good, calm Syndicate officer, excellent at bringing some of the more trigger-happy men of my organization into line. He was also with me on that day when I purged Richilieu from the Syndicate, an action which I'd never regretted. I'd only been to the Neo-Eiffel Tower's ballroom once before, during a Syndicate-organized party several years back. Richilieu had been there as well....

---

"Cecelle, I would like you to meet my date for the evening, Miss Marishani Appledelhi."

It was only a few minutes after I'd arrived at the ball when Richilieu introduced me to her... I'd been hearing about his new woman for quite some time, but this was the first time I'd actually met her. She was a vision of beauty... beautiful red hair... but I've already spoken on that subject, so that is all I will say about that.

"It is an honor to meet you," I said, holding back a feeling from within me. Was it jealousy? Or something else, deeper... I didn't know. I kissed Marishani on the hand, and she giggled.

"Richilieu, my dear... you never told me you had such kind friends," she said, smiling sweetly at him. She couldn't have known anything about the Syndicate... while it was a Syndicate-organized event, many "outsiders" were in attendance, so we had to conceal that fact. I knew Marishani had no idea Richilieu was in the Syndicate. It seemed like he was almost...

"Oh, all of my friends are kind, I assure you," said Richilieu. "Would you like to meet them?"

Marishani waved at me as she and Richilieu walked off toward the drink table. Now I knew... Richilieu was ashamed of his position in the Syndicate, and it was this woman's fault. We all had blood on our hands!

"Mr. Fremont... trouble outside," said a Syndicate member who had walked up behind me. "You should probably go out and see what it is. Perhaps you should bring Richilieu as well."

Having no idea what the trouble was, I knew I should probably bring Richilieu along for this one. I walked over to the drink table and called for him. He and Marishani were engaged in conversation with several Syndicate officials, and I could see that both of them were starting to get drunk.

"Richilieu, something's come up," I said. "You and I should-"

"Be there in a second," Richilieu said.

"It can't wait," I replied. "I know you're busy with Marishani, but-"

"You're right I am, and it's going to have to wait!" Richilieu half-shouted at me. "I'm sorry."

Sighing, I exited the ballroom and made my way outside.

---

"Monsieur Fremont, I believe we've got everything covered here, although you're welcome to stay if you wish," said Jatel. Before I could reply, the cell phone in my pocket began to ring. I removed it from my pocket and switched it on.

"Fremont here, is everything alright?" I said, answering the phone.

"Trouble on the 92nd floor, sir," said the voice on the other end. "I humbly ask you to deal with the situation."

"I'll be right there," I said, hanging up the phone. I turned to Jatel again. "Excellent work. See you again later."

"Yes, sir," Jatel said as I left the ballroom and re-entered the elevator. 92nd floor... nothing up there but shops and offices... guess we must have just rubbed someone the wrong way. Well, now it's time to rub that person out.

---

As soon as I left the ballroom, I made my way back down to the ground level and exited the tower. A small group of Syndicate men were waiting for me.

"Monsieur Frémont, thank God you're here!" said one of them. "They're in the parking garage."

"Who is in the parking garage?" I asked. Cops? A rival Syndicate, perhaps?

"The Neo-Columbians are demanding to see the highest-ranking official in Rose du Diable, sir," he replied. "I told them about you and Richilieu, and he demanded to see-"

"What could the Neo-Columbians possibly want? This isn't about that damned bloody eye stuff again, is it? Our Syndicate doesn't deal in that sort of thing, I would think they would know that by now," I said, growing increasingly angry by the second. Richilieu was the one who dealt with rival Syndicates, I was mostly an internalist. That's how I got to where I was, anyway...

"Well, you'd better tell them that, then," said another one of my men. "They say that they have attack squads ready to strike several Rose du Diable holdings if they don't get a large shipment of bloody eye by noon tomorrow, sir..."

"Let me handle this," I said. "But I want all of you to cover me."

As I entered the parking garage, my anger was replaced with nervousness. I'd never handled something like this before, this was Richilieu's job, and yet he chose to carouse with that Appledelhi temptress... damn him!

"You are not the man we are looking for!" shouted a man with a Colombian accent as we entered the parking garage. I could already see several corpses scattered about, all of them belonging to members of Rose du Diable. "Where the hell is Tanni? He's supposed to be the leader of the French Syndicate!"

"I am Cecelle Fremont, second-in-command of the-"

"You are not second-in-command!" shouted the man, angrier than before. "The one we have dealt with before... Richilieu, HE is second-in-command of Rose Du Diable!"

I immediately began to seethe with anger. Richilieu, second-in-command of Rose Du Diable? Absolutely not, never! Serato specifically stated that I was second, Richilieu was third at best... and yet, Richilieu had been doing so many things for Serato lately... could it be? Was he actually going to be second-in-command of the Syndicate, behind MY back?

"You listen here, I am second-in-command of Rose du Diable!" I shouted. "Richilieu is currently attending the ball, and if you wish to deal with anyone, you will deal with me."

"No!" shouted the Colombian man. "If you cannot give us what we want, then the attack will go as planned, starting with you. Kill them all!"

A hail of gunfire sounded as the group of Neo-Columbian Cartel members began to fire. As I rolled behind a car to escape the gunfire, I was hit in my left arm... fortunately, I wielded my Crescando in my right. I drew my crescent-shaped blade and watched as my men were decimated by the Columbians. By the time my men were all dead, there were still about eight or nine Cartel members left... I knew what I had to do.

---

I killed them all with my Crescando, but I was severely wounded... it would take me nearly a month to recover. But when I did, I swore revenge on Richilieu... in the month I'd been recovering, he'd grown greatly in favor with Serato... leading to the events of that fateful night when I disposed of them both... Richilieu and Marishani...

"Sir, a man on this floor is demanding to see his girlfriend," said one of my Syndicate men as I stepped out of the 92nd floor elevator.

"What are you talking about?" I replied.

"Go see for yourself, sir... he's holed up in one of the offices and killed all of our men on this floor. He's armed to the teeth..."

"Dammit, I shouldn't have to deal with this, you braindead fool," I said to the man, scolding him. I was in no shape or mood to deal with a lovestruck lunatic... and I wasn't about to detonate the bomb in the tower, either. Not for one person. Still, this man could do quite a bit of damage, and I couldn't let him push around the members of Rose du Diable. To protect my sacred honor, I must act.

"Sir, I apologize, but-"

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Third door on the right, down the hall," said the Syndicate member. "I'll tell him you're coming."

I walked with the man down the hall until we arrived at the office where the lunatic had holed himself up. My Syndicate man entered the room.

"Where is she?" shouted a voice from inside, apparently belonging to the lunatic.

"Sir, I've brought the leader of the Syndicate here, but you'll have to put down all your weapons before I'll let you talk to him," said my Syndicate man. "I assure you that he will be unarmed as well."

"I'm not putting Crescando down," I thought to myself.

"Fine, but get out of the doorway first!" shouted the lunatic. As my man stepped away, I stepped into the office. There, standing in front of a desk, was a young man with short, fiery red hair. He had several guns on the desk behind him, and he wore an angry scowl on his face. "Tell me where she is!"

"I don't know," I said. "But if you tell me precisely what happened, I can help you."

"My girlfriend... her name is Anna, by the way, works at a gift shop on this floor. Me and her were in there, talking and minding our own business, when your gang of goons comes in and takes everybody hostage! One of them dragged Anna out of the room. After I busted up the rest of your dumbass thugs, I killed the ones outside and looked around all the rooms, but I couldn't find her. Where the hell did your sick men take my Anna?"

"Calm down," I said, knowing immediately why one of my men had taken this lunatic's lover. "I specifically ordered my men to take hostages, but not to rape them, which is precisely what one of my foolish men is probably doing to your pathetic little girlfriend right now."

Seeing the opportunity to have a little bit of fun and easily take out an uncooperative hostage while I was at it, I turned to my Syndicate man, who was standing behind me in the doorway.

"Search every single room on this floor for this... Anna person, and when you find her, bring her back here," I ordered. "Go!"

The Syndicate man ran off down the hallway, and I turned back to the lunatic.

"Young man, I didn't catch your name... I'm just curious, what is-"

"Terran," the young man said. "And that won't work. I searched EVERY room on this floor!"

"Even the locked ones?" I asked.

"No... oh geez, I'm an idiot!" Terran shouted.

"Oh, yes you are," I said, drawing my Crescando. "This is for all of my men you've killed today."

With a flick of my wrist, I hurled the crescent blade at Terran, slicing him across the knees and dropping him to the ground in an instant with a shriek of pain.

"Why... you... you bastard..." Terran groaned weakly. I smiled and carried Terran over to the farside wall, pinning him there with my Crescent blade in the same manner in which I'd pinned Edward, forcing him to stand.

"If you move, my blade will slit your throat in a second," I said. "You'd better not be weak in the knees."

Forcing this fool to stand with critically injured knees was quite fun... I could only hope he'd stay alive long enough for Anna to see. Sure enough, a few moments later, two of my Syndicate men walked in, carrying a badly-beaten blonde-haired girl with them.

"This is her," said the one that had greeted me at the elevator.

"What didja need her for, boss?" asked the second man. I picked up a gun from the desk and pointed it at the second man's head.

"The world will be a lot better without you, you perverted bastard," I said, pulling the trigger. "Perhaps in the next life, you'll learn to follow orders."

The blonde-haired girl screamed upon seeing the sight of her lover Terran, struggling to stand so that my blade wouldn't cut his throat.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?" she screamed.

"Anna!" shouted Terran. "Are you ok-"

And at last, his injured knees failed him. As he fell, the blade slashed cleanly through his neck, dropping his body to the floor. His head fell separately, surprising me quite a bit. The angle of my blade had cut him cleanly through.

"TERRAN!" shouted Anna, the blonde-haired girl. As she broke free from the one Syndicate man left holding her, I pointed my gun and shot her straight through the forehead, dropping her to the ground in an instant.

"That's the end of that," I said, walking over to the wall and pulling out my Crescando. As I returned it to its sheathe, I smirked... where have I seen this before?

"Excellent job, sir," said my Syndicate man. "Rest assured that I will always follow your orders, Monsieur Fremont."

"See that you do," I told him. "Start by cleaning up this room. Then, you can join the group covering the lobby."

"What will you do, sir?" the Syndicate man asked me.

"I will be heading up to the observation deck," I said. "I want to observe some of the happenings out in the streets. It must be quite chaotic down there by now."

"Yes sir," replied my Syndicate man. "Should I notify some of the others of your whereabouts?"

"Just a few of the leaders, in case I need to be contacted directly," I said. "Long live the Syndicate."

"Long live Cecelle Fremont," he said as I left the room. "Long live Rose du Diable."

Music to my ears...

---

As the elevator carried me up to the observation deck, nearly a mile in the air, I smiled. In just a few hours, the Neo-Eiffel Tower will belong to the French Syndicate. The problems in retaining the tower and protecting it from attacks had already been worked out. Military installations secretly placed within the tower would assure that, as long as we controlled the Central Control room. We could keep hostages as long as it was necessary... weeks, months, perhaps even years. I stepped out of the elevator and walked down the corridor, toward the door that led to the observation deck. I hadn't felt this good, this victorious in a long time. The death of Serato Tanni was truly an accident, just a stroke of luck that assured I wouldn't have to kill him myself to take control of the Syndicate... thank goodness cars weren't a flawlessly safe mode of travel after all these years of improvements. No, the truest sense of accomplishment was long ago... not since I'd destroyed Richilieu and his lover. That was pure victory.

---

"Why have you arranged this meeting here, Cecelle?" asked Richilieu as he stepped inside the large, dimly-lit storeroom of the warehouse. We were the only ones in the huge room... for now, at least.

"This meeting is about progress, my dear friend," I said, artfully dodging the point of the conversation in order to mess with Richilieu's mind. Just for fun, of course. "Rose du Diable needs progress."

"What exactly do you mean?" Richilieu asked.

"About six weeks ago, a deadly attack by the Neo-Colombian Cartel left me nearly dead, and many of our Syndicate outposts destroyed," I said. "Do you remember that?"

"Well, of course I do," Richilieu said. "I killed the Cartel leader myself, remember? I couldn't have let those bastards get away with what they did to you..."

"I couldn't either," I said. "I just wish I could have helped see to the end of their illustrious organization."

"You know that our response operations couldn't wait," Richilieu said. I could see a puzzled look cross his face, and the time to reveal my little secret neared. "But we already talked about that, didn't we? What's this really about, Cecelle? You're not... mad, are you?"

"Well, a little," I admitted.

"You know that the Syndicate cannot let vengeance stand in the way of progress... we had to strike, for the good of Rose du Diable, please understand."

"Sometimes, vengeance can be a perfect jump-start for progress," I said. "Good leaders always mean progress."

"I'm completely lost here, Cecelle," Richilieu said. "Are you... feeling okay?"

"Oh, I'm feeling wonderful, Richilieu," I said. "I feel like I've just slept with a beautiful starlet from heaven. Oh, sure, someone else I deeply care for is being shot full of holes as we speak, but I'm on cloud nine. Now do you see what this is about?"

Richilieu gasped.

"Cecelle, if this is this about Marishani-"

"Bring her in."

---

I pushed open the observation deck door. There, standing in the center of the room, was a face I knew all too well. I screamed... was it real? Was this specter real? It couldn't possibly be-

"Richilieu!"

"Sylvan."

---

Showdown time is next! So, have you figured it out? I bet Ondraya Onion has, hee... only three more chapters to go, folks! Review now now diddy-mao, okay?