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Big Trouble in Little Tokyo A CAPOW fanfic> By: Emiko's Agent (Ian Kim) & Ryan Matheuszik [Site note: Sorry Ian & Ryan if it was a bit muddled when I first put it into the site as "Unnamed" but that is how I got it!!! Fortunately, I was reminded and I seem to have it still in my news downloads, so here it is, title restored. - Chika] "You sure this is the place?" Eric leaned back against the car, letting his hair catch in a passing wind. "Hey, I don't doubt sources chum. Besides, he's _your_ informant. This is the place alright. Look here come the players." Ryan finished chewing up his gum and spat it out. It took three days of no sleep and no showers, but they managed to find the place. The Neo-Yakuza of CAPOW had not paid their dues in a long while, and it was time to collect. Eric's ears twitched impatiendly, his eyes watching the limos and cargo vans drive up to a warehouse in the valley below. It had been a while since he was in Genesis and more familar territory...there was some doubt in his mind as to whether spending this much time with a bounty hunter was healthy. He had developed a go-tee, some rather disheveled hair, and an affinity for shotguns, with one concealed snugly under a black trenchcoat (the blue one was destroyed during a fiasco with an assasin a few weeks ago). As the doors of the warehouse swung shut, Ryan drew out his colt .45s, admiring their shine in the moonlight. Primed and ready to dish out punishment. "Okay, there's option number one: Enter though the roof, sniper shot the ones on our list and retreat promptly" He held out a list of members who had bounties. Eric nodded. "Then there's option two, " he added. "Let me cast a chi blast and level the place. They have no hostages, and they've all spent too much time on the planet anyways." "Hmph, yeah." Ryan agreed. "But that'd be no fun. So that leaves. . . " They both grinned at each other, like school boys ready for a party. "Option number 3!" The smell of cocaine and every other type of narcotic in the alphabet wavered through the room as two unwelcome gentlemen entered the room. It was crowded. Eric's one eye-piece headset made a quick scan, the green light of the LCD display matching the techno-noir atmosphere of the black light and marajuana smoke. Ryan led through the crowd, bumping to several tattooed figures on purpose. "Nope!" yelled Eric. The beat of the synth sounds were enough to make anyone deaf; it was twice as powerful on an elf's ears. Luckily he had the necessary mufflers handy. "Everyone I see is marked with the tatoos you have told me about, which means--!" "There _all_ bad my friend!" Ryan grinned, barely able to contain twinkling eyes under foggy shades. "Excuse me ladies!" he said, shoving through the crowd. Eric tapped a man on the shoulder, and saw a familiar face when he turned around. "Good work Akira," complimented Eric. The ACD officer was dressed quite nicely in a snazzy get-up. "Now get your ass outta here before the fireworks start." "Hey, espionage is coo man," the short japanese man grinned, "I could get into this Neo-Yakuza stuff." "Ha, funny," Eric grinned, giving him a good wack on the back. "Now get going." Eric knew Akira could take care of himself, so his eyes and mind concentrated on the misty room ahead. Attitude in hand and jacket on shoulders, Ryan walked confindently through the crowd, tapping a few people on the shoulder. "Hey there Kiyoshi, long time no see." Ryan winked. "Don't go too far, I want a clear shot at yah." The japanese man merely snorted. "What you doing here Ryan-san? Go back to your little hole before you get into trouble!" "We'll see." Ryan knew quite a few of the drug lords here...all who could make him very rich from their arrests. They were clearly unconcerned about the hunger and the pretty boy that waded slowly through the crowd. The lady escorts had to be dealt with. "You, leave." Using his charimsa to it's highest potential, Eric inflicted such a look of concern and danger that the girls left for the doors without a word. They moved onto the dance floor. There were several bars near by, a catwalk above, scattered with people that just reeked the word illegal. Eric could make out dim rooms in on the sides, undoubtedly where all the serious dealing when on. Heart thumping with adrenaline, he asked the question. "Now!?" Ryan stopped in a clearing and shrugged. "Eh," he called back, "What the hell!" Whipping out the long barrel of his weapon in the air, the elf gave and thumbs up and fired away. One two three four five times into the air, slicing the thick smoke and wacking the metal ceiling with a satisfying boom. The cha-ching of the reloader and the discharge of the shells alone were enough to silence the people around them. After the fifth shot, even the music stopped. It had begun. "Under codes 24133 and 23564 of the criminal code of the MPD, and codes 23521 and 28452 of ACD law, you are all under arrest!!" boomed Eric's commanding voice. Ryan continued, "Please resist so we can kick your sorry asses!" In a prompt response, there was a huge clamour of metal on metal, the distinct sounds of rustling coats and weapons being cocked. Some of the remaining party "escorts" were leaving in a hurry, for in a matter of seconds over a hundred firearms were pointed at their heads. "Thank you." murmured Ryan. "You ready?" Eric whispered under the silence, "'Cause I'm only gonna do this once." His hands were beginning to burn battle aura. Ryan pulled the shades closer to his eyes, and with a light tap to the rim, turned the glass to opaque mode. "After you." he said, arms folded. That was all Eric needed to know. "SOLAR LIGHT!!!!" (start Ryan's part) Ryan dove as he heard the sound of thugs and goons crying out in agony from an overload of their visual receptors. Firing a few shots off from memory, he was pleased to hear the sound of .45 calibur slugs impacting with slow moving criminals. Then suddenly the -=BOOM=- of Eric's shotgun kicked off the party. Shots were fired wildly as the less well-trained bodyguards fired at random, still blinded from Eric's Solar Flare. The ones that escaped Eric and Ryan's firing were quickly put to rest by some of the better trained bodyguards who didn't relish the prospect of "friendly fire". Ryan saw the Solar Flare flicker and die, and quickly took up position between and overturned table and a jukebox, as the various guards and drug lords regained their eyesight. Eric ducked into a doorway, still firing steadily at the blinded thugs, and waited for the real fight to start. A gruesome sight greeted the drug runners as their eyesight returned. A large portion of their forces had been cut down, and Ryan and Eric were nowhere to be seen. Then suddenly, in the corner, the jukebox began to play, and death rose up from the floor, carrying twin .45s. Ryan smiled an evil smile as he rose up from behind his cover, Pantera's "Fucking Hostile" playing on the jukebox behind him. The music had been a last minute decision, and Ryan hoped Eric would take it as a cue that the fun was about to begin. A shotgun blast and a scream told him Eric had gotten the message. Eric grimaced when the music started. What was with Ryan and heavy metal music anyways. He stepped from the doorway to see every head in the joint turned towards Ryan. Feeling left out, Eric decided to get some attention 10-gauge style. He fired into the crowd and was rewarded with several screams of agony. Then all hell broke loose. Ryan rolled as gunshots ripped apart the area he had recently inhabited. He fired three times, and took three thugs out of action. Popping up from behind some wrecked furniture, he scanned the room for targets. Most of the remaining thugs were barricaded behind a number of overturned tables, getting ready to swarm Ryan and Eric. Suddenly a shotgun blast rang out, and a recently deceased (VERY recently) knife-weilding maniac toppled from a table just behind Ryan. Ryan looked over towards the source of his salvation and waved thanks at Eric, and then leveled one of his .45s directly at his head. Eric looked stunned as the .45 spit out high velocity doom, but seconds later he was still standing, unlike the thug who had gotten the drop on him as he shot up Ryan's assailant. He smiled at Ryan, and made his way towards him. Fighting their way across the club, Ryan and Eric arrived at the remains of the bar just as the collected antagonists opened up on their position with a barrage of fire. Bullets pinged and whizzed off of the bar, and from their new position behind it, both Ryan and Eric thanked what powers may be that the interior decorators had decided to go with all steel construction for the bar. Ryan reloaded his .45s as bottles and glasses disintigrated just over his head. Eric grabbed a bottle of tequila and took a swig. "So what do we do now?", he asked, turning to Ryan. "Well, we could wait for them to reload and try to rush them," replied Ryan, "Or...". And with that Ryan opened his coat to reveal 3 grenades strapped to the interior. Selecting one Ryan pulled the pin and counted to four. he then tossed the grenade over the counter and across the club. "Nice", said Eric as Ryan threw the grenade, "now what?". "On three." replied Ryan. The grenade exploded. "Three". Ryan and Eric vaulted the counter just as the remaining bodyguards broke from cover and rushed towards the bar. One fell as a solid 10-gauge slug tore through his body. Another slumped over a broken chair as twin .45s traced a pattern on his chest. Eric vaulted over a table and threw himself to the floor as semi-automatic fire roared over his position. He drew a bead on the man with the uzi and stopped him cold. Meanwhile Ryan waded deeper into the melee. Half an hour later Ryan and Eric sat in the ruins of the club, waiting for the local authorities to come by and clean up their mess. "Well, we got Vinnie The Mook, and Robert Garcia for sure, so just counting them we've made about 5000$ each..." commented Ryan, looking across the destruction. "Ya, well I should get more since I did most of the work." teased Eric. "You did not!" "Did too!" "Liar." "Anyways," finished Eric, "who do we go after next? I'm beginning to enjoy this." Ryan laughed. "You know Eric, I think I'm becoming a bad influence in your life..." THE END.