Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Fantaisie Sign ❯ Hard To See Clear, Is It Me, Is It Fear? ( Chapter 19 )

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. ^_^

Author's Note: THIS CHAPTER IS IN SYLVAN'S POV! ^_^ Chapters 20 and 21 will be in Edward's POV.

---

As Ed dashed out of her chair and fled out of the restaurant, she hit the deck and rolled away as bullets flew at her from all directions. I held my breath, praying that Ed would somehow make it out of the restaurant intact. After a few seconds, I could no longer watch, and I hung my head, closing my eyes.

"Edward, what are you doing?" I said to myself

"Sylvan, she made it, look!" Kirsten whispered.

I looked up to see Edward, just as she got up off of the ground and escaped down the hall. Two of the other thugs in the restaurant dashed out after her, leaving eight inside to deal with us. Ed, I hope you know what you're doing...

"That's it!" shouted one of the remaining eight thugs. "There ain't gonna be no more escapes!"

I could see that most of the hostages were already taped into chairs. Two of the thugs walked over to Kirsten and I and began taping us down as well.

"I should probably try to escape like Ed did... I have to help her, somehow!"

But it was too late. My arms and legs were firmly taped to the chair before I could mount any sort of escape attempt. Kirsten was bound in a similar fashion.

"Don't worry, Sylvan," Kirsten whispered. "I've got a plan...."

"Quiet down, youse two!" shouted one of the thugs. He tore off a couple of strips from the roll of tape he was holding and used them to gag Kirsten and I. She let out a muffled squeal of protest from behind the tape as the thug walked away from us. Then, she looked over at me.

"Kirsten, I really don't think you've got a plan, do you?" I thought. As she looked at me, she winked her left eye, and then gestured with her head toward the back of her chair. Since my chair was right next to hers, I could clearly see her hands, bound behind the back of the chair. There, concealed in her right palm, was a small nail file with a sharp-looking edge. "That's not going to cut through duct tape..."

But again, Kirsten proved me wrong, as she rapidly began to cut away at the tape with the nail file, as covertly as possible. Looking around, I could see that most of the thugs were standing near the entrance, in fact, all but one of them was. The other one was busy taping the last person into their chair. After he was done, he walked over to two of his buddies and began to talk with them.

"Hey," he said quietly, and I could barely make out his voice as he talked, "this is an arcade, right? What good is taking hostages in an arcade if you can't play the video games?"

"Yeah, I'm about to die, I'm so freaking bored," said one of the thugs he was conversing with. "But what about the boss?"

"The boss isn't here," said the first thug.

"I meant the boss of this operation," said the second thug, pointing to a tall, bald man with a patch over his right eye. "Monsieur Zed. He won't like it."

"I'll ask him," said the one thug in the group of three who hadn't spoken yet. He walked over to 'Monsieur Zed' and began talking with him, but I couldn't clearly make out what they were saying, since Zed talked rather quietly. As I strained to hear what they were saying, I heard a squeak from the chair next to me. I turned my head and saw Kirsten, gesturing toward the back of her chair again. I looked down, and sure enough, Kirsten's hands were free, the nail file still in her right hand. I was quite happy that Kirsten had managed to free herself, but I still wondered how we were going to take on the eight thugs, since all the rest of us were still tied to our chairs, and unarmed. I hadn't brought my gun, since I naturally thought I wouldn't need it... that our troubles were over... boy, was I wrong.

Suddenly, Kirsten flipped the nail file over to my hands, still bound behind my chair. Now how am I supposed to catch it if I can't even move my- But sure enough, I was able to catch the tiny file. Kirsten's aim had been dead on. I nodded to her and began to work on my own hands, as the voices from the front of the restaurant got louder.

"You wanna play what? Video games?" said one of the thugs, apparently Zed, in a thick French accent. "This is supposed to be a serious operation here, and you want to play video games?"

"It was their idea, I swear!"

"I've got a video game for ya! Eat Lead 5000!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted a voice I hadn't heard before. "Guys, we shouldn't fight... what would Monsieur Fremont think?"

"Hey, if they keep fighting, we just might stand a chance!" I thought as I finally got my hands free. "Alright!"

I turned my head back toward Kirsten and nodded toward her again. Even though the piece of tape was still over her mouth, I knew from the widening of her eyes that she was smiling.

"I'll tell you what Monsieur Fremont would think!" Zed shouted. "If he knew that there were fools like these in the French Syndicate who spent their time lollygagging and playing Nintendo, he would-"

"Hey, guys!" Kirsten shouted, ripping the tape from her lips. Zed gasped and stormed over to her.

"How in the hell did you get the tape off of your-"

But that was all he could manage to say before Kirsten launched a hard, high kick at his head, striking Zed in the jaw. As he fell to the ground, stunned, Kirsten grabbed the M-16 from his waist, pointed it at the seven stunned thugs, and began firing at them. Five were hit and went down immediately, while the other two fumbled for their guns. Seeing my chance, I quickly untied my own legs, although probably not as quickly as Kirsten must have done earlier (I didn't even see her do it!). Kirsten turned toward me and began shouting orders.

"Start freeing the hostages, alright?" Kirsten said quickly. "Hurry, you have to get them out of the line of fire before the rest of Fremont's men start firing back!"

I nodded and began dashing around the room, freeing as many people as I could. The people that I freed in turn began freeing the others. Meanwhile, the two thugs that were still standing had finally gotten a good grip on their guns. They returned fire at Kirsten, who had to quickly duck behind one of the arcade games to get out of the way.

"I've gotta help her out," I thought. Seeing that most of the hostages were freed, I rolled over to one of the fallen thugs and grabbed a pistol from him, then began firing at the two remaining thugs. I hit one of them in the hand, causing them to drop their gun and fall to the ground. The other one turned toward me and fired, the bullet grazing my cheek. As I felt the bullet, a wave of shock swept over me, and I had to shake my head for a moment. "Oh man... I almost got killed..."

"Dammit, my gun jammed!" I could hear Kirsten yell from a few feet away. "That's not good..."

More shots. The last thug had begun shooting at me again. As I dove to get out of the line of fire, I hit the ground hard and dropped my gun. It skidded across the floor and under one of the arcade games, where I knew it would be impossible for me to retrieve. I scrambled to grab another gun, but in my frantic state of urgency, it became extremely hard for me to focus. I was on my knees, looking everywhere on the ground, but in all the bodies and commotion, it seemed impossible to discern shapes and colors. Oh no... I'm gonna die...

"Sylvan, I'm coming!" Kirsten shouted. But as she ran toward me, Zed came up from behind her and got her in a headlock, causing her to choke out a loud scream.

"So, think you can get the best of me, girlie?" Zed said, a huge smile on his face. "Well, think again!"

And as I gasped at Kirsten's plight, I could see the other remaining thug out of the corner of my eye, pointing his gun at me. It was the same one who'd asked if he could play video games, the one that Zed had yelled at earlier.

"I guess you're not so bad after all," Zed said, still holding Kirsten. "Shoot him! Finish him off!"

As the thug aimed at my head, I could only watch in horror. Not like this... not like this... But then, a miracle happened. Before the thug could fire, a huge man leapt upon him, completely out of the blue. I recognized him as the first hostage I'd freed... all of the others had run away in terror to avoid the firefight, and this last soul had remained... as the thug hit the ground, he was knocked out instantly, and the pistol flew from his hands. I picked it up and pointed it at Zed, but he held Kirsten in the way as a shield, and I couldn't get a clean shot.

"Girlie's coming with me," Zed said, smiling. "I wonder how good your aim is, boy?"

"Shoot him!" Kirsten managed to choke out. "Shoot his ass!"

"I can't!" I shouted, desperately not wanting to risk hitting a friend. "I don't want to hit you!"

"Do it!" Kirsten yelled. "I'll... be fine..."

Zed began to back out of the restaurant, and the big man who'd saved me earlier took a step back as Zed backed up toward the entrance. My muscles tensed. Could I really fire? No... I can't risk hitting Kirsten! I can't-

But I didn't get the chance. As my finger tightened around the trigger, a short, blonde-haired woman ran up behind Zed and smashed him on the head with the butt of one of the dropped guns, giving Kirsten a chance to squeeze out of Zed's grip and run back over toward me. Then, the big man ran at Zed and tackled him hard to the ground, holding him in place.

"Alright, we did it!" Kirsten shouted triumphantly. "We beat 'em!"

I couldn't believe it. We'd... we'd actually won? Wow, guess Ed's not the only one in the Dramatic Escape Club now...

"So, what do we do about him?" asked the big man, pointing at Zed.

"Let's ask him a few questions," Kirsten suggested. "I heard over the PA announcement that Fremont planted a bomb in the tower."

"Geez, I didn't even pay attention to that," I admitted, being too worried about Ed to hear the announcement when it was called out. "So... we ask Zed where the bomb is?"

"I'll never tell!" Zed shouted, struggling as the big man and the blonde woman dragged him over to a chair and began taping him down. "I'll never tell you where the bomb is!"

"Oh, really?" Kirsten said, a devious smile beginning to appear on her face. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to-"

Still holding the pistol I'd picked up, I walked over to the chair and pointed the gun at Zed's... well, you know where I pointed it.

"You either tell us where that bomb is, or you can kiss your privates goodbye," I said. Not that I'd actually pull the trigger... I could never do that to another man, not even Fremont... the thought of it made me wince as I held the gun.

"Geez, Sylvan, you're vicious," Kirsten said, giggling. "You know, that would've been my idea too."

"Okay, okay!" Zed shouted, and I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that simply the thought of having his privates blown off saved me from actually having to consider doing it. "The bomb is in the core of the tower, central control room, on the 75th floor! I swear it is! Please, don't fire the gun!"

"Think he's telling the truth?" Kirsten said slyly. The central control room? Seemed too obvious... and yet, it seemed like the perfect place to put a bomb. I knew immediately that Zed was telling the truth. At least, I was pretty sure.

"Alright," I said, slowly putting the gun away. "That's good enough."

"Now that that's over with," said the big man, "What do we do with this guy?"

"Lock up him and the others up in the bathroom or something," Kirsten said. "How many did we leave alive, again?"

"Out of the ones you shot, only one lived," said the blonde woman, checking the pulses of the thugs to see which ones were alive. "And I think the other one is going to die too, so... three left."

"Put them in the closet then?" asked the big man. "Alrighty."

"Thank you two so much," said the blonde woman as she began to carry one of the still-alive yet unconscious thugs toward the bathrooms. "You saved our lives..."

The big man nodded, carrying the chair that Zed was taped to out of the restaurant.

"You kids did real good," said the man. "You take care now, you hear? I just hope we'll be able to get out of here alive..."

"I'm sure we will be," Kirsten said. "Bye..."

After the couple returned once more to carry the last thug into the bathroom, Kirsten and I were alone in the restaurant, surveying the damage. We sat down at one of the tables and began to talk.

"Kirsten, how did you... how did you do that?" I asked. Kirsten had just killed five of Fremont's thugs, and yet she still seemed as calm as she usually was... I mean, she was a bit shaken up, but not so much that you could actually tell she was unless you were looking really closely, like me.

"Do what?" she replied.

"Stay so calm and collected like that," I said. "I mean, you picked up that gun and just shot all of those guys, without even stopping to think, Kirsten..."

"I've... never actually killed anyone before," Kirsten said, a frown appearing on her face. "I know I probably should feel more than I'm feeling... I do regret having to kill them though, you know that, I mean, if I would have had the luxury of aiming somewhere else, like their legs, or their hands, to incapacitate them but not to kill them, then I would've done that, but..."

"I understand, Kirsten," I said. "It's okay..."

"I guess the reason I'm so calm is because my dad was a cop," Kirsten said. "He always taught me to be calm in tough situations... he said that learning to stay calm helped him in so many other areas of life, not just in being a cop... I mean, for him, shooting people's a part of the job, you know? But I guess I wasn't exactly calm today, was I?"

Kirsten sighed and began to frown sadly.

"And then he died, about three years back. Some armed robbery or something, I dunno... there was a shootout, and... well, at any rate, when we found out, they told my mom and me that he died helping two other officers get out of the line of fire, so... I guess it helped calm me down a little bit, but... I was still pretty mad after that. That's why I fly off the handle sometimes... like with Stephanie a while ago."

"Stephanie?" I asked, forgetting who exactly she was. "Who is that again?"

"Oh yeah, you've never seen her, have you?" Kirsten asked. "Remember, the girl who led the attacks on all the incoming students' dorms back at the college? I guess I thought I was talking to Edward there for a minute..."

"Are we really that much alike? I mean, yikes, you really thought I was Ed?"

"Well, you're both really nice," Kirsten said, smiling again. "Hey, you know, I think you guys really do belong together... you make an absolutely sweet couple, and I've heard so many wonderful things about you from her! If Ed wasn't around I'd probably take ya for myself..."

Oh geez.... I'd forgotten all about Edward! Where could she possibly be? She didn't return to the restaurant... maybe she was... no, no, it couldn't be! Ed was so strong, nothing bad could happen to her... she was probably out of the tower right now. And yet, bad things did happen to her... like when she was kidnapped by Cecelle Fremont... I was more scared than I'd ever been in my life when I saw her, trembling in fear as he posed her for the camera of the videophone... Cecelle Fremont was pure evil. Chillingly pure evil... he killed my father, I know he did, and he almost killed Edward... and now he was going to be responsible for hurting all of the people in the Neo-Eiffel Tower... if not physically, then mentally, some probably scarred for life. I couldn't let it continue... and it was at that moment that I knew I had to stop Cecelle Fremont for good. Now and forever.

"Yoo-hoo, Sylvie-poo?" Kirsten said, waving her hand in front of my face. "Ya listening? You kinda just stared out into space for a few-"

"Kirsten," I said, taking a clip from the ground and loading the pistol in my hand, then taking a few more clips and putting them in my pocket. "I'm going to deal with Fremont, once and for all. You should probably try to get out of the tower, or find Ed."

"Sylvan, are you crazy?" Kirsten stammered, exactly what I expected her to say. "You don't even know where he is!"

"I'm going, Kirsten," I said, starting to walk out of the restaurant. Before I did, I turned to her one last time. "Thank you... for everything. You saved my life, Kirsten."

"And you saved mine," Kirsten said. "I'm going to stay right here."

"Why?" I asked.

"Ed will come back," Kirsten said. "I know she will. And she'll be looking for you."

"You should leave, Kirsten," I yelled, nearing the elevator with my back to the restaurant. "But it's your choice if you want to stay."

"Ed loves you!" Kirsten shouted. "I know she'll be back!"

As I got into the elevator, I stopped for a split-second.

"What if... Ed does come back? Should I wait for her? No. I can't let her get involved in this. This is my fight now."

I entered the Observation Deck in as my destination. Somehow, I knew that Cecelle Fremont, in the evil depths of his soul, would want to see the damage he's caused from some sort of vantage point high above the chaos below. I stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway toward the observation deck. Then, I pushed open the doors and saw... nothing. No one. The kiosks were empty and unattended to, and there was not a soul standing by the windows. But when I looked outside, it was chaos. Helicopters circled the building. Cars were barricaded in the streets so that police and military personnel could get in closer to the tower. This is huge...

I knew that the hyperlexan windows would stop any bullets from penetrating the walls of the observation deck, so they couldn't fire on Fremont if they wanted to. This was the perfect place to simply watch as your own personal chaos unfolded. What a sick, sick bastard Cecelle Fremont was... creating all this carnage, this ruin, this terror, for so many innocent people... that's why I knew that I had to put an end to it. Now. I stood in front of the large double doors and waited. My gun was clutched in my right hand, but I didn't point it at the door. I wanted Fremont to die at my hand, but not before knowing that what he did was wrong... this was about teaching him a lesson. You can't mess with innocent lives and get away with it, Fremont... no one can.

Then, the door began to open. My muscles tensed yet again. There was no way this could be him, could it? It was probably a tourist, fleeing for his life, or one of Fremont's men, checking for anyone who might be hiding up here. No... it was him. I could tell as soon as I saw his face, nearly as pale as a sheet. His long black hair also gave him away, as did his long, black trenchcoat. I should have been the one paralyzed when I saw him, but instead, it was him... terrified to see me. What's going on here?"

"Richilieu?" he stammered out. My father? He thought I was his father?

"Sylvan," I replied, as calmly as I could. "Cecelle Fremont, your angel of death awaits."

Wait, did that just come out of my mouth? Boy, was THAT ever stupid...

A smile appeared on Fremont's face. Then, he began to laugh.

"Oh, it's just you, Sylvan," Fremont said, chuckling. "For a while there, I thought it was actually someone important! So, I guess you've finally come for Edward, huh? Well, too late. She already escaped. Looking back on it, I probably should have just killed her while I had the chance."

"Shut up!" I shouted, anger quickly beginning to overwhelm me. "You sick bastard, I swear, you'll never lay another hand on Edward again!"

"So, this is about Edward, is it?" Fremont said devilishly. "Well, well, well, love is a many-splendored thing after all."

"This isn't about her!" I shouted, which was only mostly the truth, since Edward was one of the reasons I was angry with Fremont. "I'm going to stop you from hurting anyone, ever again, you hear me? You've been toying with innocent people's lives far too long, and it ends right now!"

"Oh, Sylvan, you're such a crusader," said Fremont, reaching inside his coat, immediately letting me know that he was going to draw his crescent blade. "You're quite a chip off the old block, if I do say so myself. Your father was a man of morals as well, although not nearly as many as yours. You see, it's hard to stay moralistic in a job like he had."

"My father was a talented and ethical stockbroker, you damned liar!" I shouted, now even more enraged. How dare he talk about my father, when he didn't even know him, and hadn't even met him until the day he took my father's life!

"Is that what he told you?" Fremont said, and again, I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Darn, now I'll have to make your death torturously slow until you've gotten the whole story. And I was just going to do this."

With a sweeping hand motion, Fremont hurled his blade at me. Quickly, I drew my gun and held it out in front of me like a shield, sparks flying as Fremont's blade slammed into it and ricocheted back into Fremont's gloved hand.

"My goodness, that's impressive," Fremont said, smirking. "You know, your father would be proud of-"

"Stop talking about my father!" I yelled, pointing my gun at Fremont's face and firing several shots. He ran to the left, swerving around them all, and slashed his blade across my face with incredible vigor, then punched me hard in the mouth before I could react to the slash, sending me crashing to the ground.

"Of course, he had a lot better reaction time than you just did," Fremont said. I ignored him and put my hand to my face, the metallic taste of blood beginning to appear in my mouth. Fremont's blade had cut me just below my left eye, and I could feel the blood start to drip down into the other cut on my cheek made by my close encounter with a thug's bullet. I didn't know how badly my mouth was bleeding, but I knew that one of my teeth had been knocked loose by Fremont's intense punch. Not good...

"Go to hell," I said, spitting out blood so that I could speak clearly. I pointed my gun at Fremont again and started to fire, quickly running out of bullets in my clip as he fell to the ground and swept my legs out from under me, sending me sprawling to the ground again.

"I'd be glad too... maybe I'll see your father there!" Fremont shouted, kicking me hard in the ribs. I rolled across the ground and into an information kiosk, leaning up against it in order to get back on my feet. As I did, Fremont threw a punch at me. This time, I dodged the punch, and Fremont had to stop in mid-punch to avoid punching right through a computer screen. Now was my chance. I swung the pistol and slammed the metallic end straight into Fremont's face, hitting him in the nose and mouth. His hands flew to his face, and he stumbled back, screaming curses muffled by his hands as I took the opportunity to reload my pistol.

"The only people you'll see there are your henchmen, you asshole," I said.

I tried to point the barrel of my gun at Fremont's forehead, but he parried with his blade, using it to keep my gun away from his face. I tried as best I could to push back with my gun, and my strength matched his as we jostled for position, each of us frantically trying to push our weapons toward the other person. Suddenly, he pushed too hard, and our weapons went flying out of our hands, his blade skidding toward me and my gun skidding toward his. As we stood there, looking at the weapons, he suddenly picked up the gun and began to fire, hitting me in the shoulder as I rolled away in stunned surprise.

"Well, if he's going to use my weapon, I'm going to use his!" I thought, rolling back toward the blade and picking it up, hurling it at Fremont with all my might. It clipped him in the side, ripping through his trenchcoat and causing him to scream out in pain, dropping my gun. I kicked his blade across the room and picked up my gun, pointing it at his head as I rolled past. "This is it... the perfect shot, right at his head!"

But as I pulled the trigger, I gasped in horror as I heard a loud, clicking noise. No! Dammit!

And then, the pain came. Searing through my shoulder, the bullet wound finally made its presence known. I cried out and clutched my shoulder, falling to my knees, unable to reload my gun. Fremont scrambled to his blade and picked it up, hurling it at me. It caught me in the ankle, causing me to cry out again as Fremont's blade soared back over to him. He grasped the blade in his hand and walked over to me, laughing triumphantly.

"So, little Sylvan," Fremont said, preparing to strike me down with his blade. "Now do you want to know the man your father was?"

Gritting my teeth and fighting back the pain, I reloaded my gun, unseen by Cecelle Fremont, whose confidence and cockiness was currently clouding his vision. As he lifted his blade to strike me down, I pointed my gun up at his head and fired.

"ARGH!"

I hadn't hit him in the head... I had simply been shaking far too much to get an accurate shot. Instead, I hit him in the center of his right hand, which incredibly, still gripped around the crescent blade. He switched the blade to his left hand, but the pain in his right was evidently very severe, as he stumbled back and growled at me.

"You.... little... do you know... how much... this hurts?" he said in between gasping breaths. As I lifted my gun to fire again, my aching shoulder seared in pain, and I had to lower my arm and pick myself up off the ground, stumbling away from Fremont.

"That's about a billionth of the pain caused by losing a father," I said. "Now I only have to shoot you a billion times more."

But before I could say anything else, the door swung open. We both turned our heads to look. It was... her! Edward, what are you doing all the way up-

"Sylvan, please stop!"

"Edward!"

---

Yes, before you say anything, Sylvan's 'angel of death' line was shamelessly ripped off from Batman: Mask of the Phantasm. Man, that movie is so cool... (DISCLAIMER: That line is owned by whoever makes Batman, not me. ^_^) I only got one review last time... (thanks, Saberpilot! *hugs*) I need more this time, okay, readers?