BF: The Welcome Wagon

Dehr screamed down a large river, right hand clutching the throttle white-knuckle tight, left hand trailing millimeters above the water, sending up a thick mist behind him. Dehr looked ahead, zoning out completely, yet still possessing the basic visual focus to notice something slowly changing. His fingers trailing in the water were tingling, but suddenly hurt intensely. Dehr pulled his hand up, looking it over, it was caked with tan dust. He looked around and behind him. He was surrounded by a desert with scattered shrubs, and varied mesas and plateaus. He glanced behind him confusedly, he spotted where the river died into an ascending beach that in turn changed into cracked desert ground. Looked up from his studies of the area he spotted a fairly large city a ways off in front of him.

He cruised for a while longer, until he came upon a large sign that obviously adorned the name of the metropolis long ago. The green and white of the sign had been blasted away by scorching, sandy, winds years before. The sign now read “Fist CITY” in black and red spray paint, as well as a large, black, cartoon-like fist, identical to the hedgehog’s tattoo before. Hmmm, “Fist City”…very imaginative. Iron Fist hotspot, better stay discreet. He already pinpointed me once, not gonna be fun here. Get in, take him out, get out, fast. Dehr checked the digital clock on his gauntlet, Hmm, 8:30, by the time I get there…it’ll be kinda late, luckily it’ll be dark. I’ll start it all out tomorrow.

================================================================

“Another bounty hunter is after you, sir. We just got the info from the hacked feed this afternoon.”

“Good. You got eyes on him?” Red took the picture, holding it into the light at his desk.

“Well, we got that picture from one of the badlands outposts, but we’re not sure where he is now.” the feeble fox said, cringing as Red inhaled sharply. Red exhaled slowly, the fox relaxed slightly, but nearly assumed the fetal position as his boss turned in his chair to face him.

“Well…get out there! Send out squads all over the city, keep in contact with the base. I want to know when we’re going to be killing him.” the gang leader shouted at first, then assumed a calm state, speaking sternly, but much less loudly.

“Yeah, boss, of course, sorry boss.” the fox whispered, shaking, then dashed off shrieking, his voice unnaturally high, “Ricky, Ricky! Form up a bunch of surveillance teams, spread ’em throughout the city, we gotta know when the boss can kill the new hunter.”

This could be my perfect time to strike, when this new mercenary fellow is being chased by most of the thugs here. He could also be my ally, or he could want to get rid of me. It’s best I continue my surveillance…for now.

“Brett, c’mere.” Red flicked his hand behind him.

“Yes, sir.” a muscular, black, squirrel stepped forward from the shadows, standing at attention behind Red, sitting at his desk in a walled off section of the warehouse.

“Is the big guy all settled, happy with a full stomach?”

“Uhhh, the guy we sprung?” Brett asked quizzically.

“The guy I looked up.”

“Gritos? Yes, sir, in confinement.”

“Gritos, eh? Well, I’m glad he can still talk. We’ll see what he can do when this…uh, Dehr arrives. Well, ifhe arrives.”

“Very well, sir.”

This does not sound very good. An ear splitting screech combined with a roaring hiss echoed from another area, far off in the massive warehouse. I should investigate, this may change my opinion of this… Dehr. Neither Red nor Brett noticed the shadow that rocked from the hanging fluorescent light fixture above them, it swayed slightly for a matter of seconds as the ghost fluttered, once again, through the rafters of the gigantic structure, towards the continuing roars.

===================================================================

Dehr pulled his pants off, along with all holsters and such, after slipping off the cross belts, and setting Reipar and his shotgun on the coffee table. He had checked into the hotel at ten o’ clock, finding no resistance from any armed beings on the way in. He left one combat knife strapped to his shin. and hopped into bed. He fell asleep within the next half hour, as he woke up at six the morning before. He let the down comforter envelope him, as well as the comfort of a good sleep, tomorrow he would start his search for Red, he figured it wouldn’t be to hard, given he was in “Fist CITY”.

===================================================================

The door handle rattled as the hotel suite door was smacked by giant hand, Dehr jerked awake from his nightmare. He was about to fall asleep again as yet another thunk-rattle resounded through the room, his eyes widened. He hopped out of bed, waiting for another bang, as he figured no forty-year old, Latino, human, lady could possibly hit a door that hard. One more hit and the door splintered audibly. Dehr duck-walked over and crouched behind the counter, he slid the knife from his leg and spun it in his hands right hand nervously. The door crack in half horizontally, Dehr spotted an alligator lowering his foot through the jagged hole. The door fell, still in one mangled piece, onto the floor in the room, the gater stepped in and flattened the half of the door that was standing. A rat stepped in cautiously behind the gater. “Th-This should be the b-b-bounty hunter’s room.” the rodent stuttered, checking a scrap of paper again.

“You sure, wimp?” the gater mumbled angrily out of the side of his mouth.

“Well I-”

“Check again!” he interrupted his inferior.

“Yes! Yes, this is the room!” the rat reassured.

“Well then where’s the-hey!” the gater spotted Dehr’s hand reaching for the shining plasma shotgun on the coffee table, the thug raised the assault rifle at his side and fired a few three-bullet spurts at the protruding arm.

Dehr whipped his arm back in with a “Gaaah, damn!”, clutching his forearm tightly, holding back some of the blood. The bullet had grazed him, but not too deep. Dehr raised up a little and whipped the only knife he had over the counter. He was rewarded and smiled to himself behind the counter when he heard a loud thud, and a terrified shriek. The M4 assault rifle skittered to a stop on the floor by the end of the bed. Dehr crouch-ran a little before diving, sliding the automatic weapon under the bad as he rolled to a stop behind the bed. As the rat watched this he timidly pulled out a automatic Glock pistol and fired at the bed as Dehr crawled behind it. Dehr snagged the gun from beneath the bed, brought it to his shoulder, and waited, motionless. Dehr watched behind him as the rat’s horrible aim destroyed a few windows and the air conditioner. Dehr heard a loud series of clicks and rolled out from behind the hotel bed. He flicked the switch to full auto. He fired a long burst into the rats legs and the door across the hall.

Dehr dropped the rifle, ambled over to the rat, and stomped on his hand as he reached for the walkie-talkie he dropped. He snatched up the Glock and the clip in the rat’s hand. He reloaded and cocked the pistol, pressing it to the rat’s head. “You work for Red Stogen right?” Dehr said coldly.

“I…I-I, d-don’t know who-” the rat stuttered.

“Red Stogen! The Fist, The Iron Fist, The Red Fist!? Big-ass crocodile!?” Dehr pressed the barrel harder to the rat’s forehead.

“Yeah! Y-y-yes, I’m with the I-Iron Fists!” the rats spluttered out, almost in tears.

“Good.” Dehr started walking away as he pulled the trigger. He kicked the body out the door, crushed the walkie-talkie, and dropped the Glock. “And out rolls the welcome wagon.” Dehr said aloud to himself, clutching his arm as he walked over to the coffee table. The bleeding bounty hunter wrapped a washcloth around his wound, slipped on his pants, tightened his belt and various straps, clipped on his cross belts, and checked his plasma shotgun and Reipar for damage. I’m evidently not showering now, he glanced to the two bodies and the blood spattered on the wall next to the door and across the hall. He sauntered around the corner, down the hall, and took the elevator to the lobby. As Dehr walked through the lobby, he stopped the lady at the desk from speaking by lifting his badge. He walked over to a camera on the ceiling and stood motionless for a few seconds holding his badge up to it. “Send some police upstairs to room 1046.”

“What!?” the lady shouted.

“Did you not see the badge, do it. Thank you.” Dehr turned around, showing his badge again, but kept walking, until he went straight backwards through the revolving door.

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