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“First the Betamax tape, now this?”
“Stop complaining. At least I was here to sign for it this time.”
Jet sighed. “One of these days it’s gonna be a bomb.”
Judging by the package that sat on the table between them, today just might be the day. There was something menacing about the rectangular, leather case inside the cardboard box. Its stark black color stood out against the sea of white packing peanuts. Digging a little deeper, Faye found that it had a single handle and each corner was reinforced with metal. She reached for the clasp to open it up, but Jet caught her by the wrist.
“Whoa, let me get out of the blast zone if you’re gonna do that.”
Faye rolled her eyes. Before Jet could say anything else, she snatched her wrist away. Grabbing the cardboard box, Faye headed to her room. Once the door slid shut behind her, she set the package gently on top of her unmade bed.
Faye stood there for a moment, hands on her hips, staring down at the case. Every fiber of her being was willing her to open it. The Betamax tape had been her first glimpse into the past. Surely this was the same. Faye lifted the case out, placing it in front of her as she sat cross-legged on the floor. As she pressed her fingers to the clasp, she felt her resolve waver.
It was that feeling she got whenever she watched the Betamax tape that held her back. The disconnect. Despite knowing she was watching herself, Faye couldn’t remember any of it. It was like watching a stranger, but that stranger had her face. So many nights were spent staring at the TV screen, waiting for something to click. It wasn’t until she felt the prickle at the corners of her eyes that she turned it off. She’d lie down and try to sleep, only to see a different frame of the Betamax tape seared into the back of her eyelids.
Faye wasn’t sure how much more of that she could take.
There was a quiet click.
Ed was sitting beside her. Faye hadn’t even heard her come in, but there were bigger things to worry about. One of those things was the fact that the case was now open.
“What are you doing?!”
Ed ignored Faye’s outburst, her focus completely on the contents of the case. “Oooh…Spin, spin! Play, play!”
Finally, when enough time had passed to confirm that the case was not going to explode, Faye leaned in to get a better look. With the clasp undone, the case had opened to reveal some sort of round table. Next to it was a metal arm and a few knobs.
“Uh, what is it?”
“A record player.”
Like that answered anything. Faye tried spinning the table and turning the knobs. Nothing. “I think it’s broken.”
“You have to set it up, silly!” Ed dove into the box of packing peanuts, wading around until she pulled up a cord and what looked like a stack of folders. She plugged the cord into an outlet before turning one of the knobs. This time, a red light came on. “There. Now, which record do you wanna listen to?”
Ed fanned out the sleeves for Faye to choose from. There wasn’t much to go off. In the dim light of her room, Faye could barely make out their faded designs. The sleeves may have had titles or even people on them once upon a time. All that was left now were faint outlines and smudges of color. Faye quickly realized that asking questions wasn’t going to get her anywhere. When it came to dealing with Ed, it was better to watch and find out.
As soon as Faye pointed to the middle option, Ed gave an excited cheer. She pulled the record out and set it on the round table in the case. Once she lifted the metal arm, the record began to spin. Faye watched as Ed carefully aligned the arm before flipping a switch. Ever so slowly, the arm came down, the point nestling itself into one of the grooves of the record.
At first, there was silence. It couldn’t have been for more than a few seconds. For some reason, it felt like a lifetime to Faye. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she felt an unbearable tightness in her chest, like her lungs had been pinched off. Waiting. She’d been doing a lot of that since she woke up from cryosleep over three years ago.
Eventually, the notes of a piano filled the room. The tune was something slow and laid-back. Faye could tell from the faint static in the background that the recording was old. And then a woman’s voice joined in. It was a piercing croon, one that sent vibrations straight through Faye’s bones. She wasn’t listening to the lyrics or trying to figure out their meaning. All she could do was let the music wash over her.
Faye only came back to her senses when she realized it was silent. The record had stopped spinning, and the arm was near the center. Faye also realized she was alone again. Somewhere between the songs, Ed had wandered off, her interest in the record player already long gone.
Without her expert, Faye tried to replicate Ed’s movements in reverse. Starting with the switch, the arm lifted off the record, allowing her to take it off the table. She was about to grab another one when her fingertips pressed against the grooves on the other side. When she flipped it over, she read the label at the center of the record: Side B. She set it back on the table, new side up, and brought the arm back down. Faye’s eyes slid shut as jazz erupted from the speakers.
It'd been a week since Faye had started listening to the record player. It started with her listening only before bed, but after a few days, she found herself bringing it around the ship with her. Listening was a lot less daunting than watching the Betamax tape. Seeing her childhood self, her face slightly distorted by the static of the TV screen, knowing that those exact memories were locked away somewhere in the depths of her mind was almost too painful. There were no visuals to tether the music to. She focused on the wailing of the saxophone, the crashing of the drums, the caress of the piano, the singer’s soaring notes that Faye could never even dream of hitting. The noise drowned out her thoughts, and Faye was thankful.
One day, Faye was in the living room, eating whatever scraps she managed to dig out of the refrigerator for breakfast. Jet was out on a bounty, and Ed had hauled off her computer after declaring a search for the perfect location for her new “super-secret base”, with Ein hot on her heels. With the room to herself, Faye plugged in the record player and turned up the volume. Her thoughts started in a practical place, like what bounty she was going to pick up and if she had enough in her bank account to refuel the Red Tail. Somewhere down the line, her train of thought had derailed until all she could focus on was the notes filling the space.
“You’ve been listening to that thing a lot.”
The voice sliced through the music. Faye’s eyes flew open. She didn’t even know she’d closed them. Suddenly, Spike was sitting across from her. His head was tilted slightly to the side as he examined her. Faye had no idea when he got there, but she tried not to let her surprise show in her expression. When he cracked a smile in response, Faye knew she had failed.
She lifted the record player’s arm, the music stopping abruptly. “And?” She countered.
“And it’s the same three records on repeat every single day. You know, people consider that torture. Psychological warfare.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic. Besides, I’m not forcing you to listen to it. Invest in some earplugs.”
“I think tossing that thing off the deck is a much cheaper option.”
“If you even touch the record player, I’m going to–”
The screen on the table between them flashed, leaving Faye’s threat unfinished. Spike snorted before accepting the call. The window opened with Jet cursing up a storm.
“And good morning to you, too,” Spike said.
“The goddamn son of a bitch trashed the Hammerhead!” Jet continued. “This is gonna take weeks to repair! Shit!”
“Does the ‘goddamn son of a bitch’ have a name?” Faye asked.
Jet gave a pissed-off huff, regaining what little was left of his composure. “Alphonse Wilder.”
Spike minimized Jet’s window and pulled up Alphonse’s record. Sure enough, the man was wanted for the illegal stripping of cars and ships and selling their parts on the black market. Criminals like that weren’t usually worth much, but the ten million woolong bounty on Alphonse’s head told a different story. This man wasn’t just some small fry. He was probably a ringleader, or he’d managed to steal from some particularly powerful people. Either way, it wasn’t a bounty you just picked up on a whim. Spike and Faye exchanged an unimpressed look.
“What did you expect?” They asked in unison.
Jet groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was clear he’d underestimated the target, but he wasn’t going to admit that, especially to these two, who never shied away from the opportunity to hold something over someone’s head. Instead, he countered with another question. “Are you gonna help me or not?”
Spike and Faye took stock of their situation. There was no food. They’d been taking cold showers ever since the water heater gave out over a week ago. The Bebop didn’t even have enough fuel to leave Mars. Once their individual ships hit empty, they’d officially be resigned to walking. So, yes, the question was very much rhetorical.
Faye sighed. “Any leads on where we can find him?”
“The one good thing this search turned up is a map of his chop shops around the city. Considering how much of the Hammerhead he’s transporting,” Jet grumbled in disdain, “he can’t have gotten far. I’m sending you the addresses of the three closest shops.”
As soon as they closed out the call, their communicators lit up with the information. Faye removed the record and placed it back in its sleeve. “Let’s split up. I’ll take the shop to the south. You head up north.” She closed the lid of the record player. Before she could secure the clasp, she felt a hand on top of hers.
“I believe we have some unfinished business,” Spike said, leaning forward in his seat.
Faye felt her eyebrow twitch. While his grip on her hand wasn’t crushing, she knew it was a warning. If she wanted to try anything, he was ready. So much for a quick getaway.
“We can settle it with this bounty. If I catch Alphonse, I’ll make sure you stop listening to those three records.”
Faye’s eyes narrowed. She knew it was stupid to get caught up in this bet. The record player was one of only two things that kept her tethered to the past. That was undeniable, and yet there was another truth that was equally as certain: she was a betting woman, through and through. If her chances weren’t zero, she couldn’t back down. Especially if Spike was on the losing end.
“If I catch Alphonse, you never mention the record player again. Oh, and I’ll take your share of the bounty, too.”
There was a glint in Spike’s eye, one that didn’t make an appearance very often. Most bounties they pursued were just means to an end. There were only a select few that he considered worthwhile or, in other words, fun. Clearly satisfied with the deal, he withdrew his hand.
“Good luck.”
Faye snapped the clasp closed and grabbed the handle of the record player. “Don’t need it,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way to the hangar.
Faye landed the Red Tail a few blocks down from the address. She was thankful she’d picked the closest of the three chop shops. It gave her an advantage over Spike, who was probably still making his way to the northern shop but, more pressingly, her ship was actually running on fumes. That’s why Alphonse had to be here.
Maneuvering down the labyrinthine alleyways, she jogged until the shop was in sight. Keeping her back pressed against the brick wall, Faye peered around the corner. Men in stained jumpsuits lumbered around the garage that was more like a warehouse. Some rolled tires across the pavement, others drove huge lifts hauling ship parts, and all of them shouted over the miscellaneous tools and machines at work. Faye had to hand it to Alphonse: he did a great job at keeping up appearances. By all intents and purposes, the place looked like a regular business.
As itchy as Faye’s trigger finger was, she couldn’t risk getting sloppy. The thought of Spike hurling the record player off the deck of the Bebop, watching it sink beneath the murky water of the dock, and his triumphant grin that was bound to follow was enough to center her. She took a deep breath before dropping her gun back into its holster. She needed to get creative.
“Ed? You there?”
There were a few seconds of silence. Faye lifted the communicator closer for a second try when the hacker’s voice blew out her eardrum. “Hi Faye-Faye!”
Wincing, Faye fired back. “Have you ever heard of an inside voice, you–” She stopped herself short. The only way her plan worked was if Ed was on her side. Instead, she cleared her throat and started over. “Hi…Ed. You think you could do me a favor?”
“Ed and Ein are at your service from the super-secret base!”
“That’s great. Listen, there’s a warehouse at the corner of 6th and Lane that’s operating as a front for a chop shop. I’m sure they must have at least a handful of real customers to make the place believable. Can you hack into their system and find out if there’s anyone scheduled to pick up their vehicle today?”
“Let’s take a look-see,” Ed hummed. After some nimble typing and nonsensical rhymes, the hacker found something. “There’s only Mr. Xian’s car today.”
“Thanks.”
“But, Faye-Faye, Mr. Xian is–”
“I’ve got it from here. Go enjoy your super-secret base.”
With that, she cut the call and switched off her communicator. Faye strolled up to the warehouse, scanning the men near the entrance. When her eyes landed on a lanky teenager with patchy facial hair, she knew she had her mark.
“Excuse me?” Faye asked, deploying her best “damsel in distress” voice.
As soon as he turned toward her, his eyes bulged. “Uh, how can I help you?” He managed to stammer out.
She had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Sometimes it was just too damn easy. “I’m here to pick up my husband’s car. Mr. Xian?”
The boy gave a stiff nod before awkwardly gesturing for her to follow him. As he led her inside the warehouse, Faye kept her head on a swivel. According to the mugshot in Alphonse’s record, she was looking for a lean man with dirty blond hair and a tattoo on his neck. But, with a bounty in the millions, Faye had a feeling he wouldn’t be working out on the floor. He was probably running things from the top. Luckily, it looked like the boy was leading her directly to the office. He gave a rhythmic knock on the door.
“Boss?” He called loudly, cupping his hands to his mouth and pressing right up against the door. “Mr. Xian’s wife’s here.”
“Come in!”
The boy opened the door for Faye. As soon as she stepped inside, he shut the door behind her. She was greeted by an old man hunched over his desk as he slowly pecked at his keyboard. At the pace he was going, it would probably take him a week to type a complete sentence.
“And…there!” He said victoriously, punctuated by a final peck. He turned toward Faye. Now that she was looking at him face-to-face, she couldn’t help but think he looked like an alien with the way his glasses magnified his eyes to almost cartoonish size. “How can I help you, missy?”
“You’re the boss?” She asked incredulously.
“Nah, the kiddos just call me that because I’m the oldest one here,” he smiled, more gums than teeth.
“Right, well, I’m here to pick up my husband’s car.”
“Sure. Just sign here while I get the keys.”
Faye scribbled something on the clipboard while the boss dug around in one of his ancient file cabinet drawers. When he handed her the keys, Faye decided to take a more direct approach.
“My husband had a message for Alphonse. Is he in today?”
“Al? He hasn’t come around since the promotion. Doesn’t have time for us common folk. I can pass the message on for you…If he decides to come down from his castle, of course.”
“That’s okay,” Faye tried not to sound completely deflated. “I’ll just let my husband know I missed him.”
“You can always check the shop on Jackson. It’s been his new home base since he became the foreman.”
The addresses Jet shared flashed through her mind. Jackson. That was the shop to the west, the one neither of them had claimed. Immediately, Faye grinned.
“I might just do that. Thank you, Boss.”
Keys in hand, she raced out the door. Not only did she get Alphonse’s location, but she solved her fuel problem with a temporary ride. Her plan couldn’t have gone any more perfectly. But Faye knew better than to celebrate too early. She was up against Spike, after all. He was unpredictable. That’s what made him a dangerous opponent.
Out in the parking lot behind the shop, Faye hit the unlock button on her newly acquired keys. A sleek, black car’s lights flashed. She gave a low whistle as she approached. It was the latest model of a luxury brand that Faye couldn’t even pronounce. Everything about it was pristine, from the door panels that were waxed so thoroughly that she could see her reflection to the waft of “new car smell” that overtook her senses as soon as she opened the door. Mr. Xian had expensive taste.
As Faye started the engine and reversed out of the parking spot, she couldn’t help but snort at how absurdly different it was from the Red Tail. When she hit the accelerator, the car didn’t lurch forward. As she drove down to the exit, the parts didn’t rattle uncontrollably like it was on the verge of self-destructing. If she hit it big at the casino, maybe a car like this wasn’t such a bad investment. As if that would ever happen.
When she got close enough, the automatic gate began to roll open. Just beyond the gate, Faye spotted the boy who had led her to Boss. He was in the middle of a conversation with another, much shorter man. Actually, it was less of a conversation and more of a confrontation. Faye didn’t have to be a body language expert to know that the way the man jabbed his stubby finger into the chest of the boy wasn’t because they were shooting the breeze. The man stood out like a sore thumb among the blue-collar workers with his stiff tuxedo buttoned all the way up to his chin. Despite the height difference, it was clear he was the one looking down on the boy.
Well, if it wasn’t Alphonse, then it wasn’t her problem. She tapped the gas, rolling past the gate and onto the street. Suddenly, the short man’s beady eyes snapped in Faye’s direction. He pulled his finger away from the boy’s chest and pointed directly at her.
“My car!” He shrieked.
Faye floored it. The tires squealed against the asphalt as she swerved away from the shop. In the rearview mirror, she watched Mr. Xian run out into the road behind her, his figure growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared in the distance. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Faye dug the communicator out of her pocket.
“Ed!” She yelled as soon as the connection went through. “You said Mr. Xian was coming today, not right now!”
“Ed tried to, but Faye-Faye didn’t listen,” she said in that sing-song voice of hers.
Faye clicked her tongue. “Whatever. Can you give me directions to the shop on Jackson? I got a lead that it’s our target’s new base of operations. Make sure it’s the fastest route!”
“Aye-aye, captain! Navigator Ed says turn left!”
“Left when? On which street?”
“Now!”
Faye hooked the wheel, cutting across two lanes of traffic. When the cacophony of honks died down behind her, she gave an exasperated sigh. All she had to do was remind herself that she was doing this for her record player. And to get Spike’s share of the bounty, of course. If that wasn’t enough motivation, then she didn’t know what was.
With Ed’s directions, Faye made it to the chop shop on Jackson in one piece. Definitely with more dents, scrapes, and pissed-off drivers left in her wake, but in one piece all the same. She parked Mr. Xian’s car in an alleyway a few blocks down from the shop. Once she was close enough, she took a seat at a nearby bench, unfolding an abandoned newspaper as she scouted the place. It was definitely a bigger operation than the shop she came from. Instead of a single garage warehouse, there were two, with a third one being built. The increase in square footage mirrored the increase in workers. Just around the perimeter, Faye spotted at least ten men entering and exiting. Who knew how many were inside. And probably the biggest difference: all of them were armed.
While Faye had faith in her abilities, she wasn’t stupid. Going in blind and taking on that many people was a death wish. And she hadn’t even confirmed that Alphonse was inside. There had to be a way to do this without it devolving into a bloodbath.
Suddenly, there was distant yelling. The men at the perimeter drew their guns, waving at their fellow workers to follow them inside.
Something was happening.
Faye tossed the newspaper aside and jogged up to the shop, leaning up against the outside wall. Now that she was up close, she could practically see straight down the combined warehouses. The armed workers were taking cover behind the various cars and ships they were working on before the interruption. She watched as one man stood, attempting to get a shot off, only to get nailed in the chest before hitting the concrete. On the far end of the shop, Faye saw the last thing she wanted to see.
A flash of green hair. An unmistakable blue leisure suit.
“Shit!” Faye swore, drawing her own gun. How the hell was Spike here? Compared to her first shop, his was at least triple the distance away. Even with the Swordfish, she should’ve had another few minutes. She shook her head. She didn’t have time to think about the logistics. Yes, Spike was here, but it wasn’t over yet. Not until one of them had Alphonse.
Faye hissed. Bloodbath it was.
Spike pushed forward, taking out another worker as he cleared the center aisle, moving from one car to the next for cover. Faye seized her opening and entered the warehouse while the workers were distracted. Thanks to Boss, she knew Alphonse was the foreman, and the foreman always got the best seat in the house. Her gaze went straight to the stairs that led up to the second floor.
The only problem was that it was in the middle of the shootout.
Faye got as close as she could, taking cover behind a car already peppered with bullet holes. Again, she just needed to wait for an opening. If Spike was good for one thing, he was efficient with a gun. Today, Faye would rely on that.
After a few moments, the exchange of gunshots lessened. Faye peered through the shattered windows of the car to see only a handful of workers remaining. The men exchanged desperate looks, unsure if they should run or make their final stand.
Spike chose for them.
Making use of his lanky legs, Spike cleared a nearby car’s hood in one long stride. Now that he had the high ground on the car’s roof, the workers didn’t stand a chance.
Faye made her move as he picked off the remaining men. She sprinted over to the stairs and made her ascent as quietly as she could. The second floor was barely a floor. It was only one room lined with windows on all sides. It reminded Faye of a prison, a watch tower in the middle of the compound, overlooking everything that went on below.
Crouched low and out of view of the windows, Faye reached up to the doorknob and twisted it ever so gently. She cracked the door open and searched the room. At the other end, behind a desk, a lean man stood at the window with his arms crossed. Faye couldn’t see his expression, but it probably wasn’t anything good considering his sudden and violent reduction of employees. Even without seeing his face, she knew she had the right guy from the dirty blond hair and unmistakable neck tattoo. Her record player was safe, and her profits were as good as doubled.
Yanking the door open, Faye stepped inside the room and positioned herself directly behind the target. “Nice to meet you, Alphonse Wilder,” she said, gun aimed at his back.
Alphonse lifted his hands up in surrender without turning around. “I wish I could say the feeling’s mutual. I’m guessing you’re with him?” He pointed toward the mess below.
“Yes and no.”
With a laugh, Alphonse turned toward her. His face was all angles. His smile looked almost painful, the way his lips pulled in a tight line. Definitely not an expression he was used to making. “Y’know, I pulled a fast one on a bounty hunter this morning. Never even saw it coming. I guess this is karma.”
“Oh, I know all about it. Now, come over here nice and slow.” Faye grabbed the handcuffs at her hip with her free hand.
His smile pulled even tighter. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
In one swift movement, Alphonse kicked the desk. The hunk of metal shot out toward Faye at an absurd speed. She barely had time to dive out of the way, hitting the matted carpet with a grunt. By the time she recovered, Alphonse had grabbed his office chair and slammed the wheels against the nearest window. Glass shards went flying everywhere. Faye’s hands shot up instinctively. When she looked up, Alphonse was gone.
“What the…?!”
She ran up to the shattered window fast enough to see Alphonse land on one of the bigger ships parked in the warehouse below. Breaking his fall with a roll, he grabbed onto one of the ship’s wings and lowered himself down. Once he was on solid ground, he made a break for it. He was headed for one of the side exits that led out into the alley.
“Stop!” Faye wasn’t about to take her chances with the same route. She backtracked to the stairs and raced down. Clearing the expanse of the warehouse, she burst through the door, her head snapping left to right. A loud clang echoed through the alleyway as a figure stumbled past a dumpster before disappearing around the corner. Immediately, she followed.
But it was too late.
As soon as Faye rounded the corner, she cursed. Spike had Alphonse pinned to the ground. Writhing on the concrete, Alphonse growled as Spike dug his knee into his back, securing the handcuffs.
“That’s not fair! I had him, and you stole him from me!” Faye yelled.
Spike stood up, dusting his hands. “I seem to remember you trying to steal him from me while I took care of his workers in there.”
When she didn’t have an immediate counter to that, Faye gave an irritated hiss. When had he seen her? But she already knew the question was pointless. His eyes were too damn sharp. For all she knew, he could have spotted her from the moment she set foot in the warehouse.
“How did you even know he was going to be here?”
“Al’s been getting pretty greedy,” Spike said, nudging the target with his boot. “As the new foreman, he’s been taking even bigger cuts from the black-market sales and leaving everyone else with dust. His guys were quick to roll on him.” His focus turned to her. “Now, about that deal…”
“Double or nothing.” It was more of a command than an offer. She didn’t want to give him an option because she was also out of options. While the Betamax tape always held her at arm’s length from her past, the record player drew her in. There was no pressure to connect, no emptiness when she inevitably couldn’t.
There was no way she could let it go.
Spike’s answer wasn’t what she expected. She expected him to scoff at her, to give her a smirk before chiding her for making the deal in the first place. What she didn’t expect was for him to grab her by the shoulders and force her to the ground. Faye stumbled backward with a surprised yelp. In the same moment her back met the concrete, a barrage of bullets lit up the space they were standing only seconds before.
Shots pinged off a pile of steel beams, which was the only thing keeping them from getting riddled with holes. Faye probably should’ve been more concerned about that, but her mind was currently preoccupied by the fact that Spike had her pinned to the ground. She felt his eyes on her, gauging her reaction. While she refused to give him the satisfaction of watching her squirm, she had no idea what expression she had on right now. From how warm her cheeks were, it wasn’t good.
“You’re heavy,” she muttered, keeping her face turned to the side.
Spike snorted. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you’.”
He pushed himself up. As he turned his focus to their attackers, Faye took a breath. Unpredictable. She braced herself with that in mind, and still he found ways to catch her off guard.
Now wasn’t the time for this.
Faye sat up and looked for Alphonse. He had managed to worm his way behind a stack of pallets, though their attackers ignored him completely. Maybe these were his reinforcements? Gun in hand, Faye glanced around the beams. She recognized the tuxedo and short stature immediately.
“Goddamnit.”
“Friends of yours?” Spike asked.
“Never seen them before in my life.”
“I know you’re there, thief!” Mr. Xian shouted. “Return the car you stole, and I’ll consider letting you live.” His voice was a high-pitched squeak, like one of Ein’s chew toys. It was hard to take his threat seriously.
Spike looked at her with a bemused expression. “Stole? Really?”
“Borrowed,” Faye corrected.
“It’s rich that you were accusing me of stealing not even a minute ago.”
Mr. Xian waved his hand impatiently. On command, his two henchmen in similarly sharp suits dispersed, moving in Spike and Faye’s direction.
Spike lit a cigarette. “Any ideas, Mrs. Thief?”
“This is a team effort, Mr. Thief,” Faye countered.
“Stealing the car wasn’t a team effort. So, cleaning up your mess isn’t one either.”
“I’m pretty sure getting out of here alive concerns both of us.”
Spike exhaled, shaking his head. “You’ve got an answer for everything.”
With that sorted, Faye leaned out from behind the beams and started shooting. The henchmen immediately dove for cover behind the various scattered construction equipment. While she distracted them, Spike slung Alphonse over his shoulder and carried him toward the street. Faye continued to lay down cover fire as she sprinted after them until her magazine was empty. She was relieved to get to the alleyway, but the feeling was short-lived. More cars pulled up, the number of henchmen multiplying.
Since the Swordfish couldn’t fit all three of them, they only had one viable getaway vehicle.
“This way!” Faye yelled, leading them down the alleyway. She hoped they’d lose at least some of the henchmen in the maze, but Alphonse’s shouting wasn’t helping. Put me down, do you know who I am, and variations of the sort on repeat.
As soon as they got to Mr. Xian’s car, Spike tossed Alphonse in the backseat and slammed the door shut, temporarily muffling the racket. The sound of footsteps bounced off the walls. The henchmen were closing in.
Without a word, they got into position. Faye got behind the wheel while Spike loaded his gun in the passenger seat. The engine roared to life. And then, she gunned it. Alphonse’s indignant yelling quickly morphed into terrified screams as they shot out of the alleyway, whipping out into the street. Just like that, Mr. Xian’s henchmen were on them. Faye caught a glimpse of the convoy of black cars chasing them in the rearview mirror. She took a left turn at top speed, the rear wheels sliding out from under them before straightening out with a jolt.
“Your driving is going to kill us before they do,” Spike growled, holding onto the dashboard for support.
Faye jerked the wheel to the right, sparing a pedestrian from becoming roadkill. “If you have time to complain, you have time to shoot.”
Sighing, Spike rolled down the window and flicked the last of his cigarette out. Wind whipped through his hair as he leaned out, aiming down his sights. His first shot punctured one of the pursuing cars’ tires, forcing it to veer into another, taking them both out. That’s when they started returning fire. Shots rang out as Faye swerved. One of their bullets took out the rear window, showering Alphonse with glass. The last thing they needed was for his screaming to get any louder.
“I thought he wanted his car back?!” Faye hissed, ducking her head.
“He wants you dead more,” Spike answered.
With a new angle open to him, Spike leaned toward the center console and aimed out where the rear window used to be. He fired off in quick succession, the bullets punching straight through the windshield of another car directly behind them. It followed for a second longer before drifting off course and slamming into a streetlight, the driver slumped against the wheel.
There was only one car left.
“Huh, I didn’t think he was the type to get his hands dirty.”
Faye squinted at the rearview mirror to see what Spike was seeing. Sure enough, Mr. Xian was driving the car behind them, gripping the wheel tightly and his round face red like a tomato. Damn, this guy was committed.
Her eyes moved back to the road. She blinked.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Spike turned his head forward. “Shit.”
Faye knew the western chop shop had been near the outskirts of the city in an area that was still being developed. Even Alphonse’s shop was still in the middle of being built. Knowing where she was going or in what direction was the last thing on her mind during the chase. But now, as they were hurtling toward an unfinished bridge, she realized that maybe she could’ve given it more consideration.
Faye’s first instinct was to hit the brakes. She felt her whole body snap forward as the tires squealed against the pavement. Behind her, Alphonse flew forward and slammed into the front seats before rolling onto the floor with a cry. Despite the onset of whiplash, Faye could only focus on the shrinking distance between them and the UNDER CONSTRUCTION sign. On the other side, there was a sheer drop-off into a waterway that led into the city center.
Suddenly hitting the brakes threw Mr. Xian. To avoid slamming into them, he yanked the wheel, just barely swerving around the car. It was only then that he registered what was in front of him. He put his full weight on the brakes.
But it was a second too late.
While Faye came skidding to a stop only feet from the ledge, Mr. Xian went crashing through the barrier. There was a faint scream before it was swallowed by a splash below.
Faye took a few gasping breaths before looking over to Spike. For a second, his eyes were wide. Even for him, this was a brush with death that was a little too close for comfort. As quickly as the shock appeared, it was gone. His expression relaxed as he gave a humorless chuckle, reaching into his pocket to light another cigarette.
Faye couldn’t help but laugh, too.
They brought Alphonse to the police in Mr. Xian’s car. Not that he’d be needing it anytime soon. The foreman looked traumatized, trembling and covered in glass. He was actually thankful to be turned over to the cops, bowing his head and mumbling incoherently as they took him into custody.
Now that they weren’t getting shot at, Faye remembered their deal. There was always the chance that Spike forgot or didn’t care about it anymore. Having a firefight with a small army’s worth of people and a car chase that almost ended with them dead at the bottom of a canal should’ve satiated whatever appetite he had for an “interesting” bounty, right?
The machine beeped as Spike withdrew his card with the full ten million woolong bounty loaded on. “I’ll give you your share once we get the other part of our deal squared away.”
Yeah, that was a long shot. Faye sighed. She’d already pulled her double-or-nothing trump card. Anything more than that was just digging a deeper grave. “I should’ve driven off that bridge.”
Spike smiled. “Maybe. C’mon.”
They got back into Mr. Xian’s car, this time with Spike driving. Faye smoked silently in the passenger seat, her eyes closed. If she had to give it up, she wanted to commit everything about the record player to memory. Not just the music, but the way it made her feel when she listened. How the vocals, the instrumentation, the practice of setting the record on the table and watching it spin seemingly forever made her feel so free. It was the opposite of the Betamax tape. Faye didn’t know who that girl was on the screen. She didn’t know who she was supposed to become, what she was supposed to feel. Not knowing was the most painful part. Until now, she had only thought of her past as a weight, something that kept her down and threatened to crush her. The record player added a new perspective. When she listened, Faye was sure that what she felt now was exactly what she felt then. The certainty of that comforted her.
The car came to a stop. Faye’s eyes flew open. They weren’t at the Bebop. Instead, they were parked on some street in the middle of Chinatown. Faye turned to Spike, confused.
“Where are we?”
“Just a stop before we head back,” he said as he stepped out. It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Faye had no choice but to follow.
She followed him past stores with all kinds of fruits and vegetables on display on the sidewalk, neon-lit bars and arcades, delicious-smelling restaurants that made her stomach grumble. Unfortunately for her, they didn’t stop at any of these. After a few blocks, Spike led her down one of the side streets. There were still stores, but they were of a seedier variety. Men sat on crates in front of closed garage doors, glaring at them through puffs of smoke as they passed by. Darkened entrances were plastered with flyers for dancers who would “show them a good time”. They passed a weapons shop that sold everything from guns to swords to bo staffs.
Despite taking in her surroundings, Faye always found her eyes wandering back to Spike. He walked in front of her, hands in his pockets, in that carefree way of his that both irritated her and, regrettably, fascinated her. She didn’t know much about his past, only that he was from Mars. She wondered if this was his old stomping grounds before he became a bounty hunter. It made sense from how expertly he navigated the area. What could he possibly want to show her here? The idea that he had willingly cracked the door open for her to take a peek at his past made her pulse quicken. As soon as she acknowledged this feeling, she buried it. Faye reminded herself of the facts: Spike was the enemy. He was going to destroy her record player.
They finally stopped in front of an unmarked store. The outside was falling apart, and Faye couldn’t see in through the windows. There was no indication of what could be inside. For all she knew, she was walking into a trap. A trap for what, she had no idea, but it definitely felt questionable. She looked at Spike like he was crazy.
“Go on,” he said, gesturing to the door.
Hesitantly, Faye placed her hand on the doorknob. “If this kills me, I’ll haunt you.”
“If you’ve proved anything today, you get into enough near-death situations without my help.”
She opened the door and stepped inside.
It took a second for her eyes to adjust. The light in the store was dim. The first thing that came into view was the walls. They were plastered with posters and photos of people she didn’t recognize. Some were howling into a microphone; others were playing their instrument, sweat flying off them in beads and eyes clenched shut. They were all musicians. And then she saw the center of the room. Rows and rows of records lined bookshelves and crates on tables.
“These are all…” Faye trailed off, walking deeper inside.
She ran her finger along the shelves, noting that they were arranged in alphabetical order by artist. She pulled one out at random. Unlike her three back at the Bebop, the sleeve was well-preserved. The colors were vibrant; the artist, a man in a purple suit on a motorcycle, was distinguishable; the foil accents lining the cover still reflected light. Inside, Faye felt the weight of the record.
“Looking for anything in particular, ma’am?”
Faye jumped. An old man, most likely the store owner, had appeared beside her out of nowhere. He didn’t seem to register her surprise, just waiting for a response to confirm that he did his due diligence as an employee.
“No, just looking,” Faye answered. The old man nodded before vanishing behind a black curtain at the far corner of the store.
When they were alone again, she turned to Spike. He was leaning on the bookshelf next to her, his arms crossed as he watched her. How did he know about this place? Why did he look so entertained? More questions flooded her mind, but one floated to the top.
“I thought you were going to destroy my record player?” She asked quietly.
“If I catch Alphonse, I’ll make sure you stop listening to those three records,” he repeated the deal back to her, word for word. “Nowhere in there says I’d destroy it. Just thought you could use more variety.”
He said it like it was obvious, but the slight tilt of his lips indicated that destroying her record player was exactly what he wanted her to believe.
Faye would get him back for that.
Just not today.