Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ The Shrike ❯ Prelude to Disaster ( Chapter 1 )

The Shrike: A Cowboy Bebop Fanfiction

Prelude to… Disaster:

"Ah! Fish fish fishing!" sang a sing-song high-pitched voice that wailed on quite tunelessly. "I go fishing for food! Food for Ed! Food for boss-man. Food for Faye-Faye. And yes Ein," the figure leant down to kiss her dog atop its head, "even food for dog."

"Ed be quiet." Muttered a figure that lay strung across the couch, a book muffling the sound of his voice. "Just look for bounties."

"Yes yes!" She giggled in response, throwing her hands up high. "I'll find you nice one I promise."

Thin and tanned fingers punched at the keys on the board, small flashing lights and miniature screens popped up, requiring passwords.

"Whoa." Gaped the fourth of the beings in the room when she saw the screen. "What kind of police page is this? I've never seen one that needed a code and hack job to get into."

"Do you know anything?" Muttered Spike, still too lazy to move the book off his face. "It's not a police bounty we're looking for. We've saturated those. Only people now left are impossible to find or not even worth a meal. This is the Black List."

"Oh." Faye muttered, pretending to know just what it was although she still had no idea. Thankfully for her, Edward had no pride to destroy.

"Spike-person, what is this place here?"

"It's a list that the police wouldn't even bother with." He replied, still unable to remove his book, but he continued as if there was nothing at all draped over his nose. "It's a hit list of assassins and cons, warlords and dangerous henchmen. Two-timers, famous scientists, political leaders..."

Irritated, both by the drastic situation he'd proposed and the inability to see him, Faye slapped the book off of Spike's face. "Are you even thinking? This is underground stuff! This is…"

"Right up my alley."

"Spike-person? Are you on this here?" She pressed a finger to Tomato's screen on a list of names.

"Nah, anyone who wants me won't count on someone else to do it. Are you finding anything?"

"Yes lotsa." She replied bowing her head to read as her hair flopped about. "They've all got `X's on them."

"That means that their taken care of."

"They've all got `X's on them! This is pointless." Faye leaned so that her nose was close to the screen, carefully filtering the names and prices. She was still complaining when she saw the number. Six. Alright, now, count the zeros after the six. One, two, three, four, five, six… seven. Oh lord seven!

"Sixty million woolongs." She muttered. And then, very slowly, her eyes traced over to the name of the target. No red `X'. Nothing. Just a name, one word. Shrike. "Shrike?" She whispered curiously. "A sixty million woolong bird?"

Spike sat up faster in hearing the incentive. "A sixty million untaken piece huh? How long has it been posted? Ed get the information."

A few clicks later found a rather bare screen of information.

"Issued… four years ago? What? Why hasn't anyone taken it?" Faye sputtered.

Spike swept the small scratch of data. "What's this? `When caught must be delivered to following address living and unsoiled, if otherwise reward will be disbanded and punishment executed…'? All there is is an address. Where's the information? Who is this?"

There was the distinct smell of smoke as Jet walked in; carrying what appeared to be the small remainder of their food.

"Dinner's ready… I don't know if you want to dare to eat it, but, it's hot." Seeing that there wasn't the usual scramble to fight over food and curious to why everyone was crowding around Ed, he came up to the screen as well. "What's this all about."

"The biggest bounty on the circuit."

His eyes widened as he saw the page. "This is the Black List. Hey, now this isn't what I want to get messed up in you two." He growled as he saw how both of their faces were staring quite blankly at the plasma screen.

"Jet…" Faye whispered, never taking her eyes off of the numbers, "it's sixty million."

Certain amounts of numbers can change one's mind and sixty million seemed to be very convincing. "Well, just who is this anyway?"

"Someone called the Shrike… or whatever. There isn't much information."

Jet blinked, and then asked for it again.

"The Shrike." Spike confirmed.

Suddenly, number seemed to be no consequence. "The Shrike? Absolutely not. There is no way I am dealing with that."

"What!" Faye was glaring at him. "Why not?"

"You know something about him."

"I should hope so, I was still on the force when he first showed up….An assassin syndicate worker, wanted for multiple homicides, theft, assault, reckless endangerment, arson, weapons charges, usage of illegal explosives, drug possession, breaking and entering, property damage…" He was listing it out on his fingers.

"Sounds like someone we know huh?" Faye muttered, side-glancing the green-haired cowboy to her side.

"Yeah," Spike murmured, "but I can't think of their name…"

"I am not willing to get you two butchered over this."

"Concerned… how sweet."

"Shut up Faye, this is too big; the answer is no… find someone else."

"Oh come on Jet… we have no food." Spike glared reproachfully at the plate that Jet had brought out with him. "And all of our stuff is in working order… we can snag this…"

"No you can't. You have no idea what you're dealing with…"

"And who said it's all up to you?" Faye was scowling at him, brows pointing together. "There are four bounty hunters on this ship…"

"And this ship is mine!" The former police officer stood, his mind made up over the deal. "The answer is no, the Bebop is not going on this bounty."

"Oh yeah Jet that reminds me…" Spike drawled, "About the ship...." He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. "Here's that maintenance bill that the mechanic said he would send us."

Jet snagged the paper and only had to glance at it for a second before he blanched. Both Spike and Faye smiled; his decision would have to be altered.

* * *

Political Homicide:Syndicate Assassin Suspected

The body of Ashley Geryson was found in a dumpster yesterday on the corner of Teerice and Green. The former political leader was said to have been amiss for a week until discovered by a disposal worker. Cause of death is thought to have been asphyxiation through poison. Blood tests confirmed that the toxic chemical used was SC130; a rare and potent poison characteristic to the current suspect; the Shrike.

Thought to work for the Ioian Black Death, the Shrike has been at large for the seven years that she has been active. Caught and held only once by the I.S.S.P. she has continued to avoid being seen and arrested during her entire career.

Other than the use of SC130 the other piece of evidence against the assassin is the trademark S left behind that was carved into Geryson's temple. All other evidence has yet to have been collected and Geryson's body remains in custody of the I.S.S.P. for further study.

Ashley Geryson, 53 years old, lived in Eriliss. A member of the Republic Reform of Mars, laws that Geryson supported might have been what had called her to be a target in the homicide…

Spike raised an eyebrow at the article. He'd been searching in archives to find anything that he could about their new target. Almost all of the files found were the same… death of someone influential; body found, the insignia left behind, no Shrike to be seen. What he discovered that was not the same was the locations and cause of death. There was hardly any pattern to the sporadic killings, they happened anytime, anywhere. Victims were found in alleys, restaurant bathrooms, offices, apartments, train stations, the docks… anywhere. Deaths were ranging from seemingly accidental fires, sniped gunshots, poisons, strangling, drowning, and the most common, knife wounds.

He grumbled miserably as Faye sat down next to him, a cigarette lit in her scarlet lips and read the article as well.

"What number is this?"

"Thirty-seven. And all I've looked in is government workers. Syndicate deaths are normally hidden, and by the sound of it there should be triple the amount of those."

"So its base of operations is Io?"

"Seems that way." Brown eyes blinked tiredly.

"Any description yet?"

"Female… I'd say thirties. Small frame. Clever."

Faye side-glanced him. "What makes you say that?"

"Just the way she rubs off… and that's what the police report said the one time they snagged her. You had Ed hacking into the Underground for info right?"

"Yeah I guess…" She sat back exhausted. "Got a few things I think are bogus on it. Most articles actually said that Shrike is a female. Some claims she's a different species… some are rambling on that it's really a cyborg. I dunno. Buncha quacks…" Faye lit a cigarette and lazily drew on it.

"Found that a load of them claimed that other then that S carving Zorro-like scheme she's known for ordering a particular drink… something like a martini with black olives or something. Ludicrous."

"Anything raw and real?" Spike asked, storing away information from the rumors.

"Oh yeah, Ed found something a bit real, although I don't believe it. It's a supposed death count on her; 145. Nice huh? And here comes the fun part…" The woman studied he nails casually, "27 of them were bounty hunters."

At this Spike laughed. "I guess we know now why no one's taken her."

* * *

Jet grumbled as he sorted through the bills they had been mailed. The printed pile lay before him, listing to the left. Checking the addition of all the sums he grumbled and buried his face in his hand.

Standing slowly, he lit a cigarette and leant over the communication panel. Grudgingly an almost hesitantly he punched in a number and waited. On the fuzzy screen in front of him an obscured face popped up and a familiar irritated voice sounded.

"Ah Jet, long time then. Whatda ya go and bother me on my break for?"

Black grinned. "Hey Bob. I have another favor to ask…"

* * *

Spike was asleep, which was quite common. But so was Edward, with her goggles still upon her face and sprawled on the floor, and Faye had joined the bandwagon, slung sideways on the chair.

All of them were ruefully awaked by Jet's booming voice.

"Wake up you slackers!"

Spike threw himself upward quickly, making himself reel in a head rush and glared reproachfully at the former cop. "Ass…" He muttered, yawning hugely.

Faye groaned and attempted to sit up without slipping to the floor. "What the hell is so damn important?" She whined. "We've been hacking away for nearly ten hours…"

"Oh shut up." Jet waved a new fax in front of the three semi-dazed Cowboys. "I woke you up just to tell you we've changed course."

All three blinked rapidly. Spike straightened and Edward clapped.

"Where we going Jet-Jet?"

Jet smiled and held the paper out and read. "Gess Sareed, last positioned in west Tharsis, Mars, tipped the scales of the Underline's Weapon's Bidding War with his twenty-eight million Woolong offer, outbidding the competitor; Rhis Corvan. Courtesy of the snakes of I.S.S.P." He stopped and inflated smugly as if this explained everything.

Faye didn't seem to be awake all the way. "Yeah… so?"

"Rhis Corvan is the ringleader of the Black Death and the one holding the bird's leash." He growled, tapping his temple. "If someone interferes with his plan…"

"They get found a week later in a dumpster?" Spike smirked.

*~ 3, 2, 1… Let's Jam! ~*