Icafia
Icafia 20
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“Are you sure it was a good idea to stick Sean back there with Bebe again?” Leo asked, peering through the back window.
“Bebe will be just fine.”
“But what about Sean?”
“Like I said,” Akane repeated, “Bebe will be just fine.”
Akane decided to drive this time, as she was the safest choice. Leo had taken to repairing his gauntlet, which had now ceased to work whatsoever. Mercedes had fallen asleep between them, having cried herself to sleep from the loss of her moped. She tightly clutched her rail gun like a stuffed toy. She refused to allow it to be stored in the back, despite the obvious space issue in the front. Leo gazed at the mechanical wonder.
“This is a well designed rail gun.”
“I thought rail guns were just from video games and movies.”
“Not true,” Leo began, "Many governments have been developing them in secret. Shooting through walls is apparently a well desired ability to them. But this one has a matter converter in it too. Quite remarkable.”
“You lost me.”
“She can basically use just about anything as ammo.”
“Sounds quite useful.”
“More useful than my gauntlet right now,” said Leo, “I need a new power supply, and a new crystal for it.”
“I can see the lights of the town now,” Akane said, “We should be there soon. You should tell the lovely couple in the back.”
“Lovely couple.”
Leo snickered at the thought. He slid back the rear window and popped his head in the back. Sean and Bebe looked up at him. They were playing poker, Sean was obviously winning. Leo flashed a smile.
“I expected you two would be fighting the whole way.”
“We aren’t children you know,” Bebe said, “Besides, I was bored.”
“I tried to convince her to play strip poker, “Sean said, “She didn’t bite though.”
“Nope,” Bebe said cheerfully, tapping her 629, “Besides, I would be naked about now if that were the case. Get that thought out of you head!”
“Too late.”
“Hehe, anyway,” Leo continued, “We are almost to town. Just thought you wanted to know.”
“Good, I was getting tired of winning anyway.”
“Oh and Sean?”
“What?”
Make sure you don’t mix in those spare aces in your sleeve with the rest of the deck.”
“Gotcha.”
Sean winced after saying those words.
“Sean!!!”
~~~~~
The truck chugged its way to a stop at a truck stop. Sean yawned and stretched as he hopped out the back. Bebe hopped out gingerly, still nursing her wounded leg. The others crawled from the front. Leo rubbed his neck, having to take an odd position to avoid the rail gun had rendered it stiff. Mercedes laughed innocently.
“Perhaps you should ride in the back from now on,” Leo said, still rubbing his neck, “I think I have permanent nerve damage.”
“Be lucky you don’t have permanent ear damage.”
This time it was Bebe who laughed innocently.
“You two are cut from the same cloth,” Akane said.
“Ok, we have to take care of some things,” Leo said, “We need the truck refueled, a room for the night, and I need to go hunting for some parts.”
“Eh, do what you want,” Sean said, “I’m going for a drink.”
“Hey wait a minute!” Mercedes complained.
“Eh, let him go,” Bebe said, “Better to let trouble walk away from us.”
“Blow it out your ass, Blondie!”
“Bite me, jackass!”
“Riiiight,” Leo said, “You ladies think you can handle the gas and the room, while I go to get parts?”
“No problem,” Akane said, “But do you really think you can find parts for that thing?”
“Heh, I made it using improvised parts,” Leo replied, “I think I can manage.”
“Eh, good luck then.”
Leo waved as he walked off down the road. Akane began to refuel the truck. Bebe and Mercedes went in search of an inn.
“So, now you owe me a new moped as well as a new jeep.”
“Wait a minute, that moped wasn’t really yours to begin with!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Ugh, whatever, whatever.”
~~~~~
Sean finally came across a bar. He looked at the flashing neon sign.
The Neon Buffalo
“As long as they got booze, I don’t care.”
He walked inside the bar. The room was filled with cigarette smoke, despite the two spinning ceiling fans running. A small group of men were bullshitting with each other over beer in the back corner. A middle aged bartender was cleaning mugs with a white cloth.
‘Does everything created by that woman get filled with cliché? Eh, just ignore it.’
Sean took a stool at the counter. The bartender approached him.
“What can I do you for?”
“Gimme a double of Jack.”
“Coming up.”
‘Well, at least they don’t bother with carding. Probably the only thing good here.’
“Here you are.”
Sean downed the whiskey in one gulp and asked for another. Suddenly, one of the men from the back put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. Sean lit a cigarette and took a puff.
“Don’t see many strangers around these parts much,” the man said.
“Get your hand off me before I break it.”
“You see that’s why we don’t,” the man continued, “Many young bastards like you stroll in here, thinking they’re a badass. Me and my boys here straighten them out.”
Sean suddenly grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it around his back. The man howled in pain. Sean released his grip, forcefully shoving the man backwards.
“Fuck off.”
“How dare you!” The man shouted, “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“A weak bastard.”
“Grr, I am Solo, head of Icafia Spec Ops,” Solo replied, “I have killed many like you.”
“You must be proud of yourself.”
“Now guys, no need to fight now,” the bartender pleaded, “Just sit down and enjoy your drinks.”
“Mind your place, bartender,” Solo snapped, “Remember who keeps this place open.”
“As if you would let anyone forget, “said Sean, becoming pissed, “I think it’s time for a lesson.”
Solo gave a cocky smile as the other three men he was with stood at either side of him. Sean just smiled.
“Now this might last long enough for me to enjoy.”
Sean gulped his previously ignored whiskey. One of the flunkies jumped at him. Sean smashed the shot glass into his head. The two other ones approached next. Sean quickly punched one in the mouth, and then ducked to avoid the swing of the other. Sean punched the man in the knee cap, sending him crashing to the ground. Solo was the only one standing. He put up his fists, and made some faux martial arts movements.
“I have studied with many martial arts masters.”
WHAM!
Sean punched Solo in the mouth. Blood freely flowed from his mouth. Clearly angry, Solo grabbed a nearby beer bottle and broke it upon a table. He lunged at Sean with the bottle. Sean sidestepped and wrenched the bottle from his hand. He punched Solo three times in the stomach and flung him to the ground. He bent down and punched him a few more times in the face and followed up with a stomp to his hand.
“What did I tell you?” Sean said, “Don’t fuck me. It will always end badly.”
Sean walked over to the counter and dropped a wad of bills upon it.
“Keep the change.”
Sean left the bar and headed back for the others. He searched through the wallet he lifted from Solo during the fight. Other than the wad of bills he left with the bartender, he found an Icafia id card, a security access key, and a folded piece of paper. He unfolded and read the paper.
Samson Woods
10 o ‘clock
Sunday
“Maybe Leo will know what this means.”