Jail Bait
Brenna “Snakelady” Dawkins
Disclaimer: Owned by Kato, Takahashi, and Monkey Punch, I make no profit
from this fic, so try to sue me, I dare ya, I have nothing!
* * * *
“Son of a bitch!” Jigen swore, not certain how to
feel about what he was reading.
“Yeah, what’s got your underwear in a knot?” Lupin
asked, lying back in a lounge chair soaking in the Argentine sun. “Here
we got away with the biggest heist this side of the border, soaking in some
rays at the poshest place this country has to offer, and you can’t manage
to relax? Jeeze, what’s WITH you anyway?” Lupin was starting
to get annoyed with Jigen. The man never seemed to be able to look
on the brighter side of things.
“You read the days paper yet?” Jigen tossed him
the local rag.
Scowling, Lupin decided to humor him by reading it.
He sat upright suddenly. “Oh, shit!”
“Yeah. So, now you know.” Jigen said idly.
“What is all the brouhaha?” Goemon asked sedately
from his medative perch.
“Looks like the only reason Pops isn’t on our tail is
because he got tossed in the clink himself.” Lupin said finally.
“But he’s Interpol. Can they do that?” Goemon
asked.
“Apparently, our latest little escapade has been such
an embarrassment to Interpol, they cut Zenigata loose and now ole Pops is
taking our heat.” Lupin had gathered from the article.
Jigen lit a cigarette. “That’s good for us, right?”
Lupin sighed. Technically, it was. It meant
Zenigata couldn’t get in their way anymore. But Lupin didn’t know if
he wanted things to end this way. Somehow, it didn’t seem right.
Life would be rather dull without ole Pops constantly on their heels.
How could he brush up on his skills if his main adversary was cooling his
heels in jail? And technically, it bugged him a little bit that it
was his fault that Zenigata lost his job. Pops deserved a better end
then rotting away in a cell.
“Hey, you guys up for another impossible job so soon after?”
Lupin asked hopeful.
“I’m surprised at you. Usually you want to spend
our very last dime from the previous heist before you decide you want to
go out again.” Jigen grumbled. It was a typical sore spot with
him and Lupin. So he was surprised that Lupin would want to go out
again right away.
Lupin tested Jigen. “Well, it’s not so much always
a thing of how much money we can get but whether or not we can get into anywhere
and prove a point, right?”
Jigen scowled again. Lupin was beating around the
bush again and that never was a good thing. “What are you getting at
here?”
“We don’t always go where the big money is.” Lupin
reminded him.
“But it’s a big incentive.” Jigen wouldn’t budge
on this. “There’s no take on this next job worth anything, is there?”
Lupin blinked innocently, “Oh, we’re going to TAKE something
big, alright.”
“WHAT then?” Jigen asked irritated.
“We bust Zenigata out of jail.” Lupin acquiesced.
Jigen snorted, “Why the hell you want to do that?”
“Well, it sorta IS our fault he’s in jail. Do you
KNOW what those people will DO to him in there? Poor Pop’s’ll end up
being some big scumbags bitch. It’ll kill ‘em.” He meant it would
kill Zenigata’s spirit and Pops without spirit was something he didn’t like
to think about.
“So, you’re jealous are you? You make Pops your
bitch all the time.” Jigen said rather cruelly. “Never
bothered you before.”
“It isn’t like that at all!” Lupin denied loudly
and angrily, ticked that Jigen hit it so close to the mark. But he
wasn’t about to admit that he enjoyed playing Pops and he didn’t want to
share. Pops was HIS. Had been for over ten years. He didn’t
want to give that up without a fight. “Come on, Jigen, what do you
say? He’s like family after all.”
“Yeah, annoying relatives that you can’t ever get rid
of.” Jigen inhaled on his cig.
“Oh, come on, it wont hurt to do a good deed once in a
while.” Lupin tried to butter up his friend. “Besides, better
the enemy you know then the one you don’t.”
“What do you mean?” Jigen growled.
Lupin shrugged, “With Pops out of the way, who’s to say
Interpol wont put someone on our case who wouldn’t care if we ended up deader
then 8 track tapes?”
Jigen puffed away, contemplating, “We-e-ell.”
“Pops even helped us out a few times in the past.”
Jigen snorted again. He didn’t want to say yes but
he knew Lupin wouldn’t let go of this one. He’d pester and badger him
to his wits end until he gave in anyway. In many ways, Lupin was exactly
like Zenigata. Both sank their teeth into something they would want
and would never let go, no matter what befell them. Friggin irritating!
“Fine, I’m only saying okay to keep from wasting time arguing. So,
you got any idea how we’re going to do this?”
“Not a clue---yet.” Lupin was grinning from ear
to ear.
* * * *
Zenigata hunkered down dejectedly on his bunk in his tiny
cell, trying his best to deny that he was there. But it didn’t help
when his huge cellmate, a man who earned the notorious nickname Killer Claude,
kept insisting on invading his personal space. The man smelled!
He couldn’t escape that stench. And he didn’t like looking the man
in the eye--- mostly because of what he thought he saw looking back at him.
He felt like he was constantly being measured up as a piece of meat.
It was unnerving.
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?” Killer Claude boomed
above him.
Zenigata inwardly cringed, trying not to show fear, not
knowing he was failing miserably. He wasn’t sure how to respond to
that. And how’d the big mammoth know that he was a cop anyway?
Word sure got around fast in there. He knew it, he was dead meat.
“I don’t like cops.” The man said menacingly.
“Well, I don’t like crooks.” Zenigata blurted and
only belatedly realized it wasn’t the smartest thing to say to someone cracking
the knuckles on a fist bigger then a VW Beatle.
The man grinned evilly and closed in on Zenigata until
the Inspector was cornered on is bunk with no where to flee.
“You don’t scare me.” Zenigata lied unconvincingly.
Killer Claude smirked, “Gonna try out for the prison choir,
cop?”
“My name’s Zenigata, and that’s a big fat no.” Zenigata
tried to be bold.
Killer Claude was a lot faster then he looked. He
suddenly had a hold of Zenigata’s neck in one hand as a distraction.
Zenigata clutched with both hands around the thick wrist that was attached
to the hand that was slowly strangling him. Zenigata tried to wrench
the offending hand away, unaware of Killer’s true intent. The Inspector
squeaked in surprise and pain when he found his family jewels were being
ground together in a vice grip.
“You sound like a girl.” Killer commented enjoying
his bunkmates fear and pain to the utmost.
Zenigata tried to say something, but his airway was being
crushed so all he could do was squeak in helpless reply. And it felt
like his most prized possession was being ground down to a fine powder.
“I like girls.” Killer went on.
Zenigata struggled weakly, but all that won him was another
painful wrench from the hand down below. He wanted to remind the big
oaf that it was obvious he was a man. Wasn’t his life in the idiot’s
hands? Literally?
“Been a long time since I’ve been with a girl.”
The man went on and his hand went from Zenigata’s throat to suddenly holding
the Inspector’s jaw firmly in place.
Well, it was an improvement, however slight, Zenigata
thought, at least he could breathe now. But he found it hard to concentrate
on much more then the pain from below. He found it hard to follow what
the man was saying to him. So he was surprised again when he found
Killer Claude furiously kissing him on the lips. Zenigata tried to
jerk away but his jaw was held firmly in place, and any amount of movement
on his part earned more debilitating wrenching against his groin. He
tried to concentrate on the pain instead of on the fact that his cellmate
was making out with him.
Finally, after what seemed to be the whole of his sentence,
Killer Claude released him. “You’re going to take some training.
But you’ll do. Better then nothing.”
Zenigata curled up on his bunk in a fetal position.
He tried to shield what was left of his groin with his hands and knees and
whimpered to himself. Luckily Killer Claude let him alone to his tormented
thoughts. Was this how it would be from now on? Was this what
his life had come down to in the end? Zenigata thought in despair.
He was going to rot in there and no one cared. He still had no real
clue as to how he got there in the first place or why Interpol had forsaken
him. Nothing was very clear except that he was miserable and utterly
alone and was certain that no one cared.
Another week had gone by. He was learning what his
place was in jail. It was on the very bottom. Zenigata still
sported a black eye and a cut lip from someone reminding him of his place
a couple of days ago. He wondered how long he was going to last there.
He hated that place with a passion and knew he was hated in return with the
same fervor. And what was worse, he had yet another inmate eyeing him
up the same way his cellmate did. He wasn’t sure how Killer Claude
would take to having to share him. Probably not very well. Zenigata
sighed. He was depressed. Hope had fled a long time ago.
The best he could do was just last as long as he could. If that meant
being Killer Claude’s girlfriend, then so be it. He had a feeling he
would never get out of there. He didn’t really have any friends on
the outside. The only thing he had on the outside was his job and he
didn’t have that anymore.
“Hey, you’re a cop, right?” A voice came from behind.
Zenigata sighed again. It was a common mantra.
“You don’t want a piece of me, okay?”
“Why do you think I want a piece of you?”
“That’s how every yahoo who wants a piece of me begins
a conversation.” Zenigata said irritated.
“Well, are you a cop or aren’t you?”
Zenigata turned and scowled staring the inmate in the
eye. If the bozo messed too much with him, he could always call for
his backup.
“Look, I just want to talk. What’s the harm of that?
I don’t want to have to deal with your boyfriend.”
Zenigata felt like the inmate was laughing at him and
it pissed the Inspector off. “What do you know, you pervert?”
“Don’t you want to get out of here?”
Zenigata snorted. “Of course I do. But my
next parole hearing isn’t for another fifteen years.”
“I just think I know a way to get out of here. But
I need help. I can’t do it alone. How about it? Look, don’t
answer right away. Think on it. I’ll talk to you during recess
tomorrow, okay?” And the nameless inmate disappeared.
Zenigata didn’t want to believe it. Besides, he
may no longer was a cop, but he still believed in the law. He couldn’t
just escape. That wouldn’t be right. But of course, him being
there wasn’t right either. He’d been framed and Interpol had dropped
him like a badly made sequel.
It’d been Lupin’s fault. He’d followed Lupin and
his gang to South America. They’d managed to steal a whole oil tanker.
The whole thing happened off the coast of Argentina. He’d tried to
stop them. Somehow, the tanker had managed to explode and caused a
major environmental disaster. Lupin had gotten away and Zenigata had
been left holding the bag and unable to prove anything. Damn Lupin!
It would be worth it to bust out and get his revenge on the smug bastard.
So the next day during the exercise session, Zenigata
looked for the nameless inmate. True to his word, the tall, skinny
man was there waiting for him in the corner of the yard. Zenigata took
his leave and met up with the inmate, nervous to be discussing such a thing
as prison break with a handful of guards within view.
“You look like you’re ready to talk.” The inmate
grinned, “What made you change your mind?”
“None of your business!” Zenigata grumbled.
“You’d better be for real or I’ll make sure you’ll regret turning on me!”
He didn’t trust the man. After all, the man was a criminal. Zenigata
wasn’t stupid.
“Okay, okay, don’t freak out on me now. You notice
this place doesn’t have the best hospital facilities.”
“Yeah, so?” Zenigata snorted.
“All inmates who need serious medical treatment have to
be transported to a high security facility off site. It’s a dangerous
road, lots of twists and turns, just a handful of guards on the bus.
Who’s to say what would happen if the bus never makes it to the medical facility?”
The man said it with such confidence that Zenigata had to believe that the
plan sounded like it might actually work.
“But, if we’re beatin’ to a pulp, how are we gonna escape?”
Zenigata wanted to know.
The man was still smiling, “We wont be among the injured,
well, too terribly injured.”
“So, this is your great plan? Beat each other up?”
“You don’t think it would work?”
Zenigata scowled, “I don’t know who the hell you even
are. If you were someone else I know, I might have much more confidence
in this.” Even though that was true, there was still something about
this man that exuded confidence, much like a certain thief he knew.
“Does it really matter who I am?” The man asked.
“No, I guess not.” Zenigata admitted. “Fine.
So, we do this. When?”
“Tonight at dinner.” The man said as the guards
let them know their time in the exercise yard was up.
Once they all were back in their cells, Zenigata suffered
through another bout of sex with his cellmate and for the first time felt
hope. Hope that he was getting out of there that evening and he’d never
have to submit himself to such humiliating depths ever again. Even
getting bloodied in a fistfight was better then this.
Dinner couldn’t come soon enough. He was very glad
they were allowed out of their cells for that time. His only wish was
a chance to bathe regularly. He was starting to smell like his cellmate.
Baths were very limited, unfortunately. First thing he was going to
do when he was free was take a long, hot bath and wash the offensive scent
of Killer Claude off his whole body.
He waited. He wasn’t sure what the cue would be
until a shout punctuated the crowd and food started flying. There was
yelling and a bustle of sweating bodies, fists and kicks were flying.
You couldn’t hear anything over the bedlam and Zenigata found himself being
manhandled by some inmate who was stronger then he looked. Zenigata
found his nose suddenly bleeding and it felt broken. Then he felt a
sharp, painful jab at the ribs and doubled over with fresh agony. His
hands pressed into the area and when he drew them away again, they were covered
in his blood. Somehow, someone had stabbed him. Damn it!
Was this part of the plan? He was feeling a bit lightheaded.
The knife wound must have been deep. He dare not lose consciousness
there, he’d get trampled in the middle of the fray.
So he managed to stagger, hunched over in pain to the
nearest wall away from the bustle. He’d managed to get punched in the
head a few more times as he made his slow, agonizing way to the wall where
upon reaching it, he leaned up against it and slowly collapsed onto the floor.
When Zenigata woke again, he was laying flat on a cot
that moved and bumped around dizzily. It took a moment to realize he
was on the transport bus to the prison medical facility. He was crudely
patched up and handcuffed to the rickety cot. He looked around and
saw the man who had planned this lying on a similar cot across from him.
Below him was another cot and it was the guy who had broken his nose.
Zenigata sighed. It had all been part of the plan, he realized slowly.
He didn’t know how he was supposed to flee as messed up as he was.
He closed his eyes and wondered what awaited them.
Just how was this marvelous plan supposed to come to fruition when all three
of them were maimed?
Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt on the winding dirt
road, throwing Zenigata uncomfortably forward. The guards on the bus
were arguing about what to do with the log in the middle of the road.
Just then, there was a loud pop and the sound of air leaking. A tire
on the bus had blown and the guards now argued over who got to change the
tire until the popping sound of another tire deflating repeated five more
times until all the tires were flattened. Interesting, Zenigata thought.
So, the dude must have someone on the outside helping them out.
The inmate who orchestrated the whole event suddenly jumped
up, none the worse for wear and his buddy, surprising the guards and quickly
overpowered them. Once the guards were unconscious, the nameless inmate
and his partner came up to Zenigata and freed him from his handcuffs.
“Looks like we’re free.”
Zenigata winced, “I’m not going to get very far.
I think this is kinda deep.”
“You can come with us. What do you have waiting
for you out here?” The instigator asked as he checked Zenigata’s knife
wound over carefully.
Zenigata sucked in his breath painfully at the inspection,
“Nothing, except a bit of revenge.”
“You’re a cop, right? What about your job?”
“I’ve got nothing!” Zenigata repeated bitterly.
The man before him grinned again in that way that was
just too annoyingly familiar to Zenigata. “Oh, come on, Pops!”
“Wait, that voice---“ Zenigata tried to sit up but
his gut forced him to lie back down. He looked on in disbelief as the
man pulled his face off. “Friggin mask! LUPIN!” Zenigata
tried to lunge for the thief but only ended up crying out in pain instead
and fell off his cot and crumbled to the floor.
“Careful, Pops, you’re only going to hurt yourself more.”
Lupin said.
“You! You bastard! You cost me my job!
You cost me my freedom! You cost me---!” He didn’t want to go
into the details of what his cellmate had done to him. It was too humiliating.
“Now, now, Pops!” Lupin knelt down as well as the
man who’d broken Zenigata’s nose, who’s mask also had disappeared to reveal
Jigen. “The only reason we busted into jail to get you out again.
Least you can do is show some gratitude.”
“Damn it, Lupin, he’s opened his knife wound again.”
Jigen was kneeling with Lupin and tried to help a distraught Zenigata up
onto his shaky feet.
“Look, Pops, come with us and we’ll get that wound taken
care of, okay? Stay here, the prison will soon know we never made it
to the hospital and will come looking for us. Your choice.”
Zenigata was leaning against Jigen unsteadily and Lupin
took his silence as consent and took his other arm over his shoulder.
They carefully moved Zenigata out of the bus where Goemon was waiting for
them.
“You took care of the obstacles.” Zenigata told
Goemon knowingly.
The samurai nodded silently. They hurried down the
hillside as best they could. It was thick with overgrowth. There
was another dirt road below and an awaiting vehicle.
“You really did plan this, didn’t you?” Zenigata
was slowly starting to realize. “You really came to get me out?”
He was touched. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.
It meant a lot.
Lupin nodded and his silly grin didn’t quite annoy Zenigata
as it usually did. “I couldn’t leave you in there. It just wasn’t
right.”
“Thanks, Lupin.” Zenigata said tiredly, gritting
his teeth from the pain of his wound. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” Lupin asked as they helped him into
the car.
“I could come with you?”
Lupin was taken aback, “I didn’t know if you’d take me
seriously. You really would?”
“I told you, I have nothing left. I’m a fugitive
now, like you. I’d have better chances of surviving if I was with you.”
Zenigata had to admit.
Lupin grinned again and patted Zenigata on the shoulder,
“Hell yeah, why not? You think you got the heart to go outlaw, Pops?”
Zenigata didn’t know if he had any heart left after staying
in that---place. Lupin saw the Inspector shut something off on the
inside and knew that the man had suffered some great humiliation while stuck
in the jail. He wasn’t sure what, but Zenigata seemed--- different,
changed, and not necessarily in a good way. If only they had gotten
to him sooner--- he sighed sadly. But what was done was done.
“Don’t worry Pops. You’re in good hands now.”
Lupin tried to sound cheerful for Zenigata’s sake.
Zenigata gave a halfhearted smile and tried to lean back
and tried to relax. He’d have to learn to trust Lupin with his life
from now on. He was too tired and too hurt to do anything more.
He’d just have to trust that Lupin would take care of him like he said.
It was kind of nice. It was nice to be among people who gave a damn
about him for a change. So he relaxed enough and fell asleep and left
it all up to the crazy fates.
The End
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