“What’s your name, darling?”
The girl looked at the bouncer with slightly uncomfortable eyes. It was obvious she’d never done anything like this before. She probably wasn’t even on the list.
“Roscoe Moon,” she said, flashing some sort of ticket, which she revealed from a leather jacket that barely fit her.
“Roscoe Moon?” the bouncer repeated, flipping through a list.
“Yeah. Sorry, I’ve never been to one of these. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”
“I don’t see a Roscoe Moon. Get out of my line and stop wasting my time.”
“That can’t be right, sir. My name should be right there. Roscoe Moon. With an ‘e’ at the end.”
“At the end of ‘Roscoe’ or ‘Moon?’ You know what, never mind. Either way, you’re not on the list. Move it or lose it.”
“Hey, hey, what’s the big deal, bossman?” a guy a few spots back said to the bouncer. “Why you holding her up?”
“Her name’s not on the list, so she’s not getting in.”
“She’s with me. Elka Rosin.”
“Mr. Elka? I’m very sorry. Please, both of you, come in and enjoy the night.”
Elka approached Roscoe and prompted her to go ahead in front of him. She smiled and stepped through the open door and into the lively atmosphere of the converted diner.
“We don’t actually know each other, right?” Roscoe asked, tossing her hair a little.
“The name’s Elka. I’m kind of a big deal with the regulars around here. Tell me, Roscoe, what’s a doll like you doing in this scene?”
“Not much, really. I wanted to see what it was like. You know, to be at a rave like this.”
“Well, let me tell you, you’ve stumbled into the greatest rave with the greatest navigator at your side. Come, let’s go get some drinks.”
Elka led Roscoe to what seemed to be as sophisticated of a bar as you could get at an underground party like this, with unlabeled drinks and mystery drugs both more than readily available. People were already off the walls with the cocktails, or, more often than not, over trashcans.
“Any chance there’s vodka?” Roscoe asked.
“Oh, hell yeah. I’ll take you to my buddy, Sputnik. He gets it straight from the Soviet Union. You like to party, girl?”
“Number one at every frat party I’ve been to.” She gave him a knowing smile. That seemed answer enough for him. If he hadn’t already been thinking about getting lucky that night, he certainly was now.
They descended some rickety stairs to the main floor of the rave, where dozens more people could be seen in various stages of dissociation. The place was completely bordered in concrete, except for a few offshoot rooms and hallways.
One of those had to lead to Dancypants.
It wasn’t often the crime boss left his base in Italy, so when she’d heard the news from some S6 radio waves, she wasted no time in plotting his demise. The only thing standing between him and her was some sketchy dude named Elka and a dozen doors.
Well, that and the possibility of S6 agents coming in and busting the whole building.
Especially if it’s Ike.
She didn’t understand how their jurisdiction worked—they were an American agency, after all—but that didn’t stop them from being a serious threat to almost every plan she made against Bijabers and his conglomerate. More than once, she was forced to derail or end a mission because S6 got involved.
But she was taking Dancypants either way.
“Sputnik, my dude!” Elka said to a man curled up in a corner, wearing headphones.
“Elka! Who’s the girl tonight?”
“Sputnik, this is Roscoe. She is a vodka enthusiast and didn’t believe me when I told her you had that authentic stuff.”
“Oh,” Luna started, “that’s not exactly what happened—”
“Didn’t believe him? Oh, man, girl. One sip of this stuff will have you out cold. Here, try a shot.”
The man poured her a shot in a clearly dirty cup and handed it to her. She hesitated for a moment, but to keep her persona intact, pounded it down. It burned, but she’d had worse.
“That stuff really is strong,” she lied, giggling. “Thanks.”
“See? They never believe you, man.”
“I know it. See you around, Sputnik. I’m gonna go show her the game room.”
“Catch you later, dude. Let me know how tonight goes.”
As they walk off, Elka leading Luna to the game room, she spots a misplaced man in a black suit staring at her from a distance.
S6 or Dancypants? Neither would be good if they recognized her, though S6 was more likely to. As far as she knew, her cover hadn’t been blown to anyone on Bijabers’ crew yet.
“And here’s the game room,” Elka said, gesturing to a wide-open space with a few tables for pool and ping pong. “It isn’t much, but Marty, the guy who runs this place, has it in good word that his bosses are looking to expand.”
“His bosses?”
“Yeah, some suits in Italy or something. I don’t know the politics of it all. I’m king of the people that matter here.”
“The bosses aren’t here, are they?”
“Not sure. They have the entire bottom floor reserved at all times, but Marty says they rarely make an appearance.”
That was everything she needed. Elka had finally outlived his usefulness.
“So, what do you say? Do you wanna play a game of pool or something?”
“Actually, I think I need to use the girls’ room. I haven’t had a chance in a few hours.”
“Oh, no worries. I’ll lead the way.”
“You really don’t have to. I can find it myself.”
“I insist, Roscoe. What sort of host would I be?”
Dang it. He’s not going away easily.
He grabbed her wrist and led her through the complex again, this time to a door on the opposite side. When they walked in, it was mostly empty, aside from a few offshoot doors, a bed and dresser, and a window that had been shattered recently, judging by the glass on the ground.
“This doesn’t look like a bathroom to me,” Luna said, immediately suspicious. Elka locked the door behind them, cementing his intentions.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Roscoe, girl. I don’t think you understand how bad I have it for you tonight. A frat girl as beautiful as you with no other ties in the building? You’re asking for a little love tap, huh?”
“I’m not sure you want to be doing this, dude.”
He stepped closer. “How’s that vodka treating you, babe?”
“Take one step further and I’m planting my foot in your stomach. And don’t call me babe.”
He reached out for her arms. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Okay.”
She kicked out and landed square on his stomach, forcing him to the ground immediately, where he hunched over and threw up.
“What the hell? You’re gonna get it now, you stupid—”
From under the bed, a familiar metallic feline lunged at her attacker, colliding with his side and sending him rolling into the wall, where he stayed, in too much pain to move.
“What a hiding place, Freckles. Looks like we needed Plan B after all.”
“Meow.”
“Who are you? What is that? What is Plan B?”
“Elka, you were just a means to an end. A misogynistic, disgusting means to an end, but one nonetheless. I was banking on you getting me into the building like you did with the bouncer, but I underestimated just how putrid of a human being you are. How many girls have you lured like this? Ten? Twenty?”
“Shut your fat mouth. You played me. I don’t even know who you are.”
She revealed her crescent moon mask from an inside pocket of the leather jacket she was wearing and placed it on her face. “Is this answer enough?”
“No.”
“Oh. I’m the Blood Moon Pirate. Here to clean out a mafia. But you’ll be an added bonus as well.”
“What?”
She withdrew her usual pistol and leveled it with his head, refusing to give him any more satisfaction or time to talk before pulling the trigger.
She and Freckles stood quietly in the room for a bit, staring at the target. It was a rude awakening whenever she came across a random nobody who was as bad as the people she was hunting normally. There were awful people all over the country, many of whom weren’t tied to Bijabers at all. If only a certain other vigilante duo would do something about it.
“How’d you get in here, anyway?” Luna asked, breaking the silence.
“Meow.”
“That explains the broken glass, then. I kind of figured that was there to match the aesthetic of the rest of this place. It’s a disaster out there. Definitely not my scene.”
“Meow.”
“What do you know? You’re a cat.”
She unlocked the door and exited the room, Freckles close behind. Not a single soul noticed them or was sober enough to care, making her trek across the open area surprisingly easy.
The stairs to the next section were expectedly blocked off by a guard, meaning she wasn’t going to be able to waltz down. The rest of the mission was like any other: sneak in and get the job done.
Were there any witnesses to what she was about to do? Or, better yet, were there any that were conscious enough to comprehend it?
She glanced at the biggest group of people, all who were dancing to some bass-heavy beat from a stage. None were looking her way.
Eh. Screw it.
She approached the guard, mask on, and revealed her pistol. The guard panicked, but couldn’t do anything in the time it took for her to put a round in him. He tumbled down the stairs, dead on arrival at the bottom. She and Freckles followed his body, making quick work of the staircase in hopes of avoiding being spotted.
When they reached the cement floor of the next level, they were met by two shocked guards with their guns out. They seemed to still be processing the body in front of them.
It looks like the game was on.
“Hey, boys,” she said, waving. “Any idea where Dancypants is?”
They leveled their guns at her chest.
“I didn’t even get to the ‘easy way, hard way’ part of the dialogue yet. You in a rush or something?”
“S6 is coming,” one of the two said, prompting the other to punch him in the arm.
“Don’t tell her that. We have to kill her.”
“S6 is coming? Of course they are. The only few days Dancypants is in Carmsborough, and we choose the same day to raid his base. The same time, no less.”
“You’re not getting to Dancypants.”
She fired off two shots at the men, toppling them both. “We’ll see about that.”
“Meow.”
“Normally I would wait to shoot until my snarky remark, Freckles, but now we’re on a time crunch. Here, help me look for Dancypants’ room.”
“Meow.”
Luna and Freckles began going door to door, searching for the strangely named menace. She wasn’t completely sure what he was responsible for in Italy, but it was no doubt no good. Especially if he were anything like the other silly named menaces of the Bijabers Organization.
“We have breached. Fanning the area.”
Luna freezes in her tracks.
They’re here.
A door to her right slammed open, revealing a suited man with multiple guards.
And that must be Dancypants. It looks like the gang’s all here.
“Freeze, Dancypants!” one of the S6 agents yelled, aiming his gun at the mob boss. The rest of his team filled in behind him, also with weapons drawn.
“What do we do? I can’t let S6 take him.”
“Meow.”
“I also don’t like the idea of drawing attention to myself.”
“Meow.”
Luna hesitated. There wasn’t a high chance of this turning out how she wanted.
She stepped into view of both parties, being sure to make the mask obvious and the gun less so. “You don’t mind if I crash this party, do you?”
“The Blood Moon Pirate?” Dancypants said, revealing his own weapon. In response, Luna took a shot, connecting with his leg, before dipping back behind the cover of a wall.
The room erupted in gunshots, some aimed at her and Freckles, the rest aimed at the larger parties. If she could hug the wall, maybe she could get back up the stairs without being noticed.
Crack. A particularly heavy bullet removed a sizable chunk of cement from the corner in front of her. That wasn’t going to be an option.
Instead, she positioned herself against the wall with enough safety space to peek out and fire at her assailants on the criminal side.
“Show yourself, vigilante!” one of the S6 agents said. “Come out with your hands up!”
“Any chance Ike is over there?”
“Both you and Dancypants are under arrest!”
“I’ll assume that’s a no.”
She reached into the other pocket of her incorrectly sized jacket and retrieved a flashbang. The agents hadn’t done anything wrong, they were just in her way. Another obstacle to her goal. And she was darned if she wasn’t going to finish her mission.
The flashbang left her hand and landed loudly in the room adjacent to her. A few scattered yells could be heard as it went off, but when she entered, there were two distinct problems: most of the agents had been prepared, and most of the criminals, Dancypants included, had disappeared. The only way they could’ve gone was back the way they came.
“Stop, vigilante!” one of them yelled as she ran off towards the open door, to which she replied with a bullet. It landed nowhere near them, but sent a clear message.
“We have shots fired by Vigilante BMP. Do we have authorization to strike back?”
“Absolutely not,” one said. “Detain only. Boss’ orders. Go get her!”
The room was mostly empty, except for a desk, some chairs, and a hastily closed secret door on the opposite wall that had a darkened staircase leading to the floor above. If she could make it up the stairs, she could disappear in the crowd of junkies.
One of the men was waiting near the top, aiming down the staircase, ready for an unsuspecting victim to step through. Unfortunately for them, she was no unsuspecting target. She stepped into the staircase, gun raised, and immediately fired off a shot at the man at the top, who crumpled in pain out of view. Freckles took the chance to ascend quickly and finish the job off, where more gunshots could be heard.
Luna looked back to see two S6 agents tailing almost directly behind her. Without hesitation, she launched herself at them, sending both tumbling back to the bottom without resetting her own progress too much. At last, at the top of the stairs, she regrouped with Freckles, who stood triumphantly atop a second victim.
“Great work, bud. Let’s get out of here.”
“Meow.”
She gazed at the exit. Multiple S6 agents were already cutting it off and roping everyone in. Her one way out of this concrete prison was gone.
Well, one of two ways.
“Quick, back to the bedroom. We’ll escape using the window.”
“Meow.”
“Oh, we can pull it off. Come on.”
They skirted away to the bedroom, still being followed by a few agents. When they got inside, she locked the door, and helped boost Freckles up and out.
“Good thing I’m wearing leather,” she said, looking at the jagged glass lining parts of the window frame. Using her forearms, she lifted her body and slid out the claustrophobic box, and not a moment too soon. The door came crashing down as soon as she stood upright, but there was no hope of them catching up. By the time the agents on the outside of the building found out, they were long gone.
“Of course they had to show up,” Luna said, tossing a coin against the wall of her ship. “This might’ve been my only chance to get rid of this dude from the comfort of Carmsborough, and they had to come in and ruin it. What do those Americans get out of stealing my job?”
“Meow.”
“Well, and I would be less mad if he’d even shown up. You’d think after partnering up with him to take Slaphand down and rescue you, he’d be willing to make an appearance more often.”
“Meow.”
“No, I don’t miss him. He’s just some American dude. Negotiations would be much easier with someone I’m familiar with, is all. Hell, we might even work together to take some of these guys out.”
She paced the floor, retrieving the coin. It was one of the golden ones stolen from Slaphand’s strange vault on her very first assassination mission.
“And to add insult to injury, nobody got Dancypants. He’s gone and left the country. Can’t a girl topple a crime syndicate in peace?”
Freckles stared in silence for a moment before curling up in a pet bed. It was a completely unnecessary purchase, seeing as he doesn’t have a need for comfort, but Luna thought it fitting that he should own some things, too.
She still didn’t have reckless levels of money to spend, but her financials were drastically different from those at the start of her career. And, admittedly, she’d done her own portion of pointless spending here and there, too. When offered the chance at some sort of American candies, she couldn’t help but take a stab at them.
Her pacing continued for a few more minutes before she sat reluctantly on her own bed. “Well, I suppose that’s over with. No point in wallowing. It’s time to take out the first of the three leaders that have a similar name.”
“Meow.”
“Don’t look at me. It’s not my fault they’re named Marrow, Ace Arrow, and Jack Aaron. What should I say to Marrow? Is ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you’ too cliché?”
“Meow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Goodnight, bud. I love you.”
“Meow.”