CHAPTER 10:

Yamcha lifted heavy eyes slowly as his head felt as if it weighed over a thousand pounds. He groaned weakly and turned onto his back amongst the tangled up sheets….only to come in contact with somebody’s foot. Blinking rapidly, he tried to focus his dulled brain on what had happened. Shifting away some of the sheets, he found out that there were two pairs of feet! Sitting up so suddenly, wincing as his head protested the movement, he noticed that Vegeta and Goku were still fast asleep, entwined together in an embrace that made Yamcha flush with jealously and a small twinge of desire.

Memories of what had happened returned back to him slowly and he scrambled off the sheets, not really sure on whether or not to wake up the dozing men. Deciding against it, he looked down at his sticky body and shrugging lightly, made his way into the shower.

Looking at himself in the mirror, as he toweled himself dry, he pondered on what the future could possibly hold for he and Goku. There was no doubt that Goku still desired him, at least physically, but the offer from Vegeta and now this, left no doubt in his mind that perhaps their days as partners were slowly drawing to a close. Shutting his eyes in pain, he wondered if things would ever be the same without the man he would have gladly given up his life for. Dressing up quickly, he walked back out to the room and stared at the sleeping couple for several more minutes, and then tiptoeing silently up to them, he leaned over and brushed his lips gently against the eyelids of his koi.

“Aishiteru, Goku-chan” he whispered softly. “I hope you are happy with your new life.” And turning to Vegeta, he continued, “I am sorry, I will not be able to work for you. You seem decent enough, but I do not think I can take anymore of this kind of life. Ja na.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he made his way out of the bedroom, intending to make plans for the next flight out of Paris and to travel anywhere else, where neither Goku nor Piccolo could find him.

So engrossed was he in his musings, he never noticed the shadow that had crept up behind him. As his hand reached for the doorknob, a jolt of electricity was transmitted through his body. About to scream out in pain, a strong hand was placed over his mouth, as he felt the cold metal of the laser at the small of his back.

“Not another word, Yamcha.” The man said, harshly. “Or about 1500 more volts of electricity will pass through you.”

Yamcha tried to turn his head around to see whom his attacker was. Clamping his teeth, he bit savagely into the hand and turned around swiftly to look into the eyes of one of his own teammates.

“Yamu! What the fuck do you think you are doing? It’s me, Yamcha.” He watched in confusion as Yamu, grinning ferally, raised the laser again and before he could blink, he felt the electricity again. This time, the pain was so much that Yamcha passed-out in complete shock. Yamu turned around as he heard movements from the bedroom, signaling to his other team mate who was dressed as a hotel maid, Yamcha was carefully wrapped amongst the hotel linen and was dragged out through the back of the hotel and into the waiting van.

Goku turned around restlessly on the sheets, coming in contact with the solid warmth of Vegeta. Stretching his arms out, he tried to get a feel of his mate and came in contact with nothing. Patting the bed relentlessly, he finally opened up his eyes to see that Yamcha was nowhere to be seen.

“What the….?”

“Hmmm….wha…is…it?” Vegeta asked groggily, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Yamcha’s gone.” Goku said quickly, jumping off the bed and gathering his clothes up in a hurry.

Vegeta blinked himself into consciousness for a minute, before Goku’s words sank in. He watched as the taller man dressed up in record speed and felt a twinge of envy at the concern he was showing for his mate. Stretching out languidly on the bed, he yawned and then froze as he saw the shadow.

“Get down!!” He screamed, diving across the bed, and pushing Goku to the floor in the process, as a shot of electricity flashed into the very spot Goku had been standing a few seconds ago.

Smoke and bits of furniture were scattered around the two men, as Vegeta reached under his bed and got out his own gun. Jumping up, he fired two shots at Yamu, who by this time had made his way into the bedroom. Yamu ducked and removed his own gun, shooting back at the smaller man. Goku, who was in a state of semi-shock, took in the situation, and noticing that Vegeta and Yamu were locked in a shoot-out, he crawled up quickly to his teammate and with a swift jerk, kicked out his legs to knock the man to the ground. Holding his hand up, Goku motioned to Vegeta, who was about to finish the man off once and for all, to stop.

“It’s okay, Vegeta. He works on my team.”

“Oh, is that right, Goku? If he is on your team, then why the fuck was he trying to shoot that laser at you?” Vegeta asked, snorting in irritation, and keeping the gun pointed squarely at the fallen man.

“Yamu, thought it was someone else, didn’t you, Yamu?” Goku asked, looking at the cold eyes that stared back at him in derision.

Yamu turned his head away and spat out in disgust. “I was just carrying out my orders, Goku.” Turning back to him, a sneer on his face, he spat out curtly, “And I fully intend to finish my job.”

In a quick move, Yamu pushed himself off the floor and seemingly from nowhere, fired a shot at Goku. Howling in pain, Goku collapsed to the floor, clutching his shoulder. Vegeta watched in pure fury as the blood began seeping out of the wound.

“KISAMA!! YOU BASTARD!” He screamed as he fired at will into the body of the sneering man, with all the rage he felt. Not stopping until his chambers were emptied, he dropped the gun and rushed over to Goku.

“I…I…” Goku tried to speak, as blood seeped out from his shoulder.

“Not now, Goku.” Vegeta said curtly. “We have to get that cleaned up and then we get the fuck out of here. If my guess is correct, there might be more of your ‘teammates’ waiting for us.”

“Y..Ya..Yamcha.” Goku muttered weakly, he felt too light.

“They probably got him already.” Vegeta answered, racing back and forth to get towels and other first-aid things to clean up the wound. He ripped out the blood-soaked shirt and winced as he saw the bullet wound. Looking into the hooded eyes of Goku, he said softly, “This is going to hurt, but I have to take it out or it will get infected, alright?” Nodding numbly, Goku squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Vegeta pull out the shell. Dropping it quickly, Vegeta covered up the wound with fresh gauze and then wrapped it up in bandages, noticing the pallor on the man’s face.

Sucking in a sharp breath, and feeling his heart sink straight to his stomach at the thought of losing this man, he whispered fervently,

“Don’t you go dying on me, Goku. You hear me?! Don’t you dare go dying on me! I will get us out of here in no time!”

Laying Goku’s head on the floor, Vegeta dressed up quickly. Racing into the mini-office he had set up, he gathered up his essentials and picking up his cell-phone he dialed quickly. Hearing the other person pick-up, he pelted out instructions a mile a minute, while making sure that he had cleared up all evidence of anyone actually living there. Shutting his phone with a snap, he heard the vague sounds of police sirens. ~ Kuso! What now? ~ Tying the bandana and slamming the hat on his head, he gave a quick look at his fake mustache, making sure it was intact, and then waited impatiently for his exit.

It seemed like forever, but finally the call came back. He was ready to leave. Walking over to the pale-looking Goku, he lifted the man up gently and whispering words of reassurance, he led them out to the small door that was hidden behind layers of drapery. Pressing the button at the side, the door opened up to reveal staircases that led up to the roof of the hotel. Walking with the injured man was turning out to be a major problem. He managed, however, to get to the top and nearly lost his head, as the helicopter was inches away from him. Cursing under his breath at the incompetence of his employees, he watched as a black leather-clad figure jumped out of the machine.

“Let me help you.” The shapely brunette said with a grin.

“Sheryl?”

“Hey…I wasn’t going to miss all the fun, now. Come on. I don’t think we have too much time.”

The two of them led Goku into the helicopter and making sure that he was well settled, Vegeta sat behind to monitor his condition, while Sheryl maneuvered the aircraft out of the area.

“You are a godsend, Sheryl.” Vegeta smiled in gratitude. “Remind me to kill your hubby, so that I can marry you.”

“Thanks, Veggie-chan. Anything for a free nookie.”

“The French authorities are still trying to figure out who might be responsible for the shoot-out in the famous Hotel d’Bolivar. A body was found dead this morning and the hotel room was believed to have been rented out by a certain Mr. Brunswick. No one knows his whereabouts at this time…”

Piccolo growled low in his throat in irritation as the news flashed across the screen. It was not supposed to be a messy job. He hated people who messed up simple and easy jobs and he guessed that Yamu got what he deserved. Problem was….he had only Yamcha and he had wanted both men. He raised the glass of red wine to his lips as he stared at the picture of the infamous Mr. Brunswick. ~ Hmmm….he looks eerily like Bejita. ~ Piccolo sneered and wondered what the hell Goku and Yamcha were doing there in the first place. ~ Perhaps they had started to figure out my plans, after all. ~

Getting rid of Bulma had been easy enough. He knew that she had figured out his plans to eliminate the two partners as soon as they had recovered the gold, but since that mission had failed, he had found even more of an incentive to kill them. Bulma had been listening in to his conversations outlining his plan and he had been as mad as hell, but he had played the loving husband very well and had patiently waited for the opportunity to present itself. She had stormed out of the house to look for Chi-chi and he had followed closely behind. Seeing how distraught she had been had brought a sense of satisfaction to the man. He could still remember the look of surprise and horror as he had pushed the car over the cliff. He had felt a sense of sorrow…just a bit….after all she had loved him. But he couldn’t risk having her blurt out everything and so she had had to go.

Stepping out of the limousine and lighting up his cigar, he stood on the docks of the port and watched as the Paris skyline changed from dusk to night. He did not turn around as the footsteps approached him.

“We have brought him here, sir.” The man said quietly.

“Thank you, Shin. I hope he is well placed.”

“Yes, sir. Dabura and Kibito are taking very good care of him.”

Nodding in approval, Piccolo began making his way towards the low buildings that housed his shipment of illegal substances to Hong Kong. Blowing out a puff of smoke, he grinned in satisfaction as he heard the cries of pain from his former employee. Looking down from the top balcony in the barely lit warehouse, he watched in fascination as his two henchmen pounded mercilessly on the bruised and bleeding man tied to a chair in front of them.

Grinning, he thought smugly,

~ Scream, Yamcha….for when he hears you, he will come. ~

Bejita didn’t get it. He looked at the quaking man in front of him as he tried to make sense of the words that were coming out of his mouth.

He glanced at the limited decorations in the large office of the Paris Bank and tapped his fingers impatiently on the table again.

“Please, Mr. Vincent. Could you explain to me again….slowly this time….what you meant by that statement?”

“Oui, monsieur.” The poor man replied shakily. Reaching for the papers in front of him, he cleared out his throat and said slowly, “What I meant to say, Mr. Bejita, sir, is that, your account is no longer accessible. You do not own any money with the bank, sir.” He finished weakly, as Bejita had risen up and had grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt.

“I HAD OVER 20 MILLION DOLLARS ALONE IN THIS BRANCH! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!”

“Pl…please..sir, if you could put me down, now….”

“Fuck this!!” Bejita screamed in frustration, as he threw the man across the room. Pacing in agitation, he ran fingers through his dark spikes and hissed in irritation. What the hell was happening? All his accounts were gone. In every fucking bank. Nothing. It was as if no one had ever heard of his name before. Someone or something was screwing him up and he did not like it one bit.

“Listen here, Mr Vincent!” He stalked back angrily to the trembling man. “I want a full investigation on who has been messing with my account! Do you understand?”

“But…but…how can I do..do..that, sir?”

“What kind of a question is that?! You are the banker! You should know how these blasted investigations work!”

“But, sir…all the documents say that YOU requested for all your accounts to be moved out. It had your signatures on all the documents. We even tested it and saw that it was a perfect match.”

Bejita blinked in disbelief. Had he really done that? He wasn’t really sure now, come to think of it. The past few months had been nothing short of crazy.

“Alright then, Mr.Vincent. I guess, I must have. Well then, I will be leaving you, now. Sorry to have been such a bother. You have a nice day.” And tipping his hat in salute, he walked out into the streets of Paris.

Ten minutes later, the Bank of Paris downtown offices, would be blown to smithereens.

17 watched idly as Trunks dove into the large sparkling pool and began swimming in quick strokes across the length. Covering his eyes with his sunglasses, he made himself more comfortable on the lounge chair and allowed the sun’s rays to heat up his pale skin. His mind flew over the events of the past week. He could hardly believe how upside down his life had turned so quickly. One moment he had been secure in his position as Bejita’s henchman, now he was working for his son, Vegeta. Smiling grimly, he thought of Bejita’s reaction to the fact that his son was alive and well. ~ The SOB should be pleased or pissed. ~

Vegeta had moved them out to this comfortable villa on the outskirts of Paris and they had not exactly heard a lot from the elusive man. Their escort had just told them to stay here until they were needed again. ~ What the fuck am I? A whore?! ~ Gritting his teeth in anger, he reprimanded himself at being easily lured by the money Vegeta had flashed at them. He itched for an adventure and quite frankly; sitting here doing nothing was doing a number on him. Not that his days hadn’t been busy, spending them with his insatiable mate.

He sat up quickly as a shadow fell across his vision. Removing the glasses, he stared at one of Vegeta’s men.

“The boss will see you two, now.” He said steadily, “The car is waiting for you out in front.” Spinning on his heels, he walked away quietly.

“Trunks-kun!!” 17 yelled out in excitement. Finally, they were doing something! “Looks like Vegeta needs us!”

An hour later, they were being led into a chateau that was situated amongst the beautiful hills of Nice. Following their silent escort, 17 and Trunks took in the expensive looking furnishings and the formidable looking men that were stationed at inconspicuous locations around the house.

Opening large, oak, double doors, their escort ushered them into the spacious office. Trunks smiled at the stunning brunette that was sitting cross-legged on the oak desk, admiring the long legs clad in tight fitting shorts and the ample bosom that showed through a body-hugging tee. Smirking, she got off the table and sauntered up to the men.

“Thank you, Wan.” She murmured huskily to their escort as she stopped inches away from Trunks’s now blushing face.

Waiting until the door was shut, she continued in the same sultry tone, “So you must be the new boys.” Trailing hands slowly down the broad chest and with a swift move, grabbing hold of the young man’s crotch, she pulled him even tighter against her supple body. Trunks went ten different shades of red as he tried to say something, anything that made sense.

17 was not finding it the least bit funny. Sucking in his breath, he clenched his fists and glared death at the unsuspecting woman.

“That’s enough, Sheryl. I do not believe his partner is enjoying the display.” Vegeta drawled lazily as he walked into the room with someone in tow.

Sheryl laughed huskily and gave Trunks a kiss on the cheek before releasing the poor man, and winking at 17, she moved back to her position on the table, giving Vegeta a pinch on his butt in the process. Vegeta scowled, trying hard to contain his smile. Sheryl knew how to push people’s buttons, all right. Walking up to Trunks and 17, he stretched out his hands for a handshake and then nodding, he motioned for the man, who had followed him, to step forward.

17 and Trunks watched with jaws agape and rising anger as Goku stepped out of the shadows. Grinning smugly, Goku said in amusement, “Geez, Vegeta, when you told me I would be working with some new people, I didn’t know you meant these goof-offs.” He nearly laughed out loud at the look of disgust that flashed through both men’s faces.

“Excuse me, Vegeta.” 17 said icily. “I hope you do not intend for us to work with that son-of-a-bitch, because I will not. I would rather lie on a bed of nails or shoot myself before I go anywhere with that asshole.”

Vegeta raised a hand before the insults could escalate.

“Please, gentlemen.” He glared specifically at 17. “I do not really give a fuck whether or not you want to work with each other. But as long as you are under my employment, you will do as I fucking ask and say. Is that understood? Good.”

Leaning close to Sheryl, he whispered into her ear and watched as she pouted full lips indignantly and then with great reluctance, she left the room, but not before giving Trunks another good view of her body. Shutting the door quietly behind her, the room fell into silence as the four men looked at each other.

After what seemed like endless minutes, Vegeta finally spoke up in a voice Goku had never heard before. This was the tone of a man who could be as ruthless as he was passionate and the cold, clear-cut instructions he issued out to the men left no doubt in his mind that Vegeta was out for revenge in the worst way possible.