Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Midvalley's Serenade ❯ The Mission ( Chapter 4 )

The Mission

Next morning when I stumbled into the bathroom to take a leak around 7, I noticed Chapel's bed was made and he was nowhere to be seen. Not much of a sleeper, I thought, and went back to bed.

I got up around 11-musician's hours--showered and dressed, then made my way downstairs. The bar was still serving breakfast, so I ordered an omelet and coffee with cream. While I was eating, Chapel strode in through the bat wing doors with his cross on his shoulder. He looked around the room, caught my eye, smiled and walked over to sit with me.

"Hope you weren't worried. I thought you'd sleep in."

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"I get my share."

As I took my last bite of eggs, I reflected inwardly on my last moments with him the night before. I was relieved to find this morning that I seemed to be able to be around him without experiencing a sexual spazz-out every 5 minutes. That was a plus since we had a mission to carry out today.

A matronly waitress came up to the table with a carafe of black coffee and a cup. She smiled at him and said, "Thank you so much for what you did. Here's your coffee, Mr. Wolfwood."

He smiled, "It was my pleasure. If there's anything else I can do for your grandson, just let me know. And thanks for keeping me in black coffee. You make it good." She moved off smiling.

"What's that all about?

"My priestly duties. Just mixing a little business with business. I'm ready for the mission. We're going to get it in gear today, right?"

"We'd better take this discussion upstairs where we'll have more privacy."

When we got to the room, Chapel leaned his cross against the wall by the table. We sat down and I proceeded to brief him.

"The manager of the energy plant in this town, name of Burns, has had a long-standing contract with Master Knives. Master Knives uses some of the energy for experimental scientific research and the research is funded by the plant customers who are billed for their usage. Master Knives has been very particular about the importance of not exhausting the plant by excessive demands on its resources. The manager of the plant has been compensated generously, but for the past six months has apparently unilaterally decided that he is not being paid enough, so he has been working the plant harder, stepping up the billings. But he has been concealing the extra billings and siphoning off the money for his own use and lying about it. And in only six months, he has brought the plant close to exhaustion."

"Master Knives is angry enough about the greed, but it is the abuse of the plant that has brought a sentence of death to Mr. Burns. Our job is to acquire the funds he stole, install the new manager who has already been selected, by the way, and kill Mr. Burns in a splashy public way that will send the message that Knives Millions is dead serious in his requirements. You step over the line-you die."

"Let's do it. I'm ready. Have we got an address?"

"God," I had to laugh. "You're in a big hurry. You thought up a plan that fast?"

"Didn't you ever read Dominique the Cyclops' Quick and Dirty Guide to Mission Planning? It's famous at the academy. She handed it in on a final exam. Aced it."

"When faced with an uncooperative target-1. Threaten to shoot him in the balls. 2. Then shoot him in the balls. 3. Then threaten to shoot him in the head. That is just so Dominique-especially the part about shooting them in the balls."

"I heard someone else had the idea first. A few years back, I asked her what happened to Mazarov and his gang. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you, Chapel?"

"Only that Dominique got her inspiration for that answer by reading a certain issue of Eagle magazine." He smiled innocently and looked guilty as sin. " I think it's a pretty good plan."

"Only one little problem, Chapel. He's got a lot of hired guns at his mansion."

"Well, if the hired guns are at the mansion, it stands to reason that that's where the money is. So all we need is a little firepower."

"By, the way, Chapel, did you bring any equipment along or do we need to get you outfitted?"

Chapel smiled, reached out and flicked a buckle on the canvas-covered cross beside him and watched with satisfaction as my eyes widened when the inside of the cross was revealed and eight automatic pistols in a caddy, dropped down with a thunk, fully loaded and ready for action.

"That's a real nice set-up, but still I think we might need something a little more high caliber."

The priest stood up with a broad smile on his face now, shoved the automatics back inside and with a graceful move, hoisted the cross as if it were a toy, and I could see that the long piece of the cross housed a 50-caliber machine gun.

"If the 50-cal isn't up to the job, I can always," and he flipped the cross again smoothly, "arm the rocket launcher."

"What? No shotgun?" I mocked.

He demonstrated the pump action.

"Holy shit" I laughed, "Chapel, you know you've got yourself one hell of a weapon there. What are we waiting for?"

"A real plan?"

"Yeah, there is that.

"Could be booby traps."

"Big scary dogs."

"We'd better scope it out first then."

We divided up the labor. I was going to investigate the energy plant and check bank records and safe deposit boxes. In theory that's all confidential, but the letter I carry from Knives Millions has earned me the cooperation of dozens and dozens of clerks and officials. Chapel was going to visit some taverns and cafes, then, set up to hear confessions near the mansion and see if he could pick up any information about Burns' movements. Then we would rendezvous, pool information and fine-tune the plan.

I found out that the money wasn't in the bank, so our original thought that the money was at the house was likely correct. Burns was not expected at the plant. When Chapel returned, he added the information that Burns would be hosting a dinner party for some of the wealthiest citizens in the town that evening. Our eyes met at this piece of information. An opportunity to reinforce Knive's message.

When we arrived at Burn's home, I pulled Silvia out of her case and rang the doorbell. A butler answered, took one look at me and sniffed condescendingly, "The musicians use the back door entrance," and he pointed to a path that led around the house. He looked at the priest and his cross with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm with the band," said Chapel, peering over his sunglasses.

That line struck me so funny that I started to giggle when we were far enough away from the front door that the butler couldn't hear it. Chapel gave me a dirty look which only made me laugh harder. "I'm with the band," I mocked him. " What band? What instrument do you play? Oh, I play the cross." I bent over double from laughter. Then Chapel got infected. He started out with a chuckle, worked his way through snorts and guffaws and finally ended up wheezing until tears were running down his cheeks. It took a while for us to calm ourselves sufficiently . Chapel gave me another dirty look which was almost enough to set me off again. I punched his arm. "Knock it off. This is serious business," I said with a barely contained giggle.

"Yeah, we could get killed in there," he chortled, and the look on his face was so comical that we spent another 2 minutes convulsed in laughter.

I finally saw some body guards gathering at the windows, probably wondering about the two nut jobs laughing their asses off in the side garden. I assumed that when they saw the sax I carried they would think it was just another crazy musician whacked out on happy weed.

And then we got serious. When we reached the back door, Silvia blew it open with a skirling cacophony of shrieks, and when we entered the kitchen I saw the five guards on the floor, their bodies jerking spasmodically while blood ran from their noses.

Chapel gave me a dead-pan look, flipped his cross into machine gun mode and then burst through the next door with the 50-cal blazing. I followed him through the door, stepping over the bodies of the dead, wounded and dying. We reached the kitchen after repulsing some heavy return fire, and then we pushed through a swinging door and finally stood face-to-face with Burns. He seemed uncomfortable to see us in his sumptuous dining room. The table was laden with fine wines and delicacies and guests in elegant evening wear were seated around it. Burns started to slip a hand into his tuxedo, but Chapel grabbed him by the wrist and twisted the automatic from his grasp.

In front of all those people, I asked Burns to return the money he stole from Knives Millions. He refused.

The upshot of all the planning Chapel and I had done came down to this. When Burns refused to reveal the location of the money, I threatened to shoot him in the balls. When he didn't talk, Chapel shot him in the balls. Then, I threatened to shoot him in the head. He gave us the location and the combination right away. Then Chapel shot him in the head.

Blood and bone and brains splattered the tuxedos and evening gowns and faces of the wealthy guests at Burns' table up to ten feet away.

Master Knives had said, "Send them a message."

I think they got it.

I was a little shocked by the coolness that Chapel displayed when he killed Burns and I mentioned it to him later that night.

"You didn't turn a hair when you shot him. I was a little surprised. It still takes me some effort to work myself up to it and I've been at this longer than you. I felt like I was the new guy and you were the veteran."

"It wasn't hard. That guy needed killing. Remember the waitress in the saloon this morning?"

"Agatha?"

"Agnes. She confided in me that she suspected her grandson had been sold into a sex ring. She gave me a lead and I found the child and got him and the others out, too. Problem is, so many of them have no place else to go to." He seemed troubled by this thought.

"But, that was a good morning's work, right?"

"And it's why I didn't have any trouble killing Burns. I found out he owned that business. You ask me, he got off way too easy."

"So, is this something you do often? Rescuing kids in trouble?"

"I try to help out now and then-like somebody helped me once, Midvalley."

"I'm going to bed, I'm beat. Are you ever going to get some sleep, Chapel?"

"Maybe later. I've got some running around I have to do just now. It really can't wait until tomorrow and-when do we get paid?"

"You should be able to draw funds tomorrow."

"Good," he said and then I heard his footsteps hurrying down the staircase.