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2005-04-15 - 2:24 a.m. "She's the Girl all the Bad Guys Want" Actionhero stood in the middle of Night City’s scarred warzone excuse for a street and dealt death. He’d already taken their warboss Shark down in hand-to-hand, breaking his ribs and fracturing his skull in a nasty combination of back street Bangkok Mu Thuy with a finisher that put the ‘roid popping cycle thug though a brick wall that he hoped would leave him with at least a permanent speech impediment. The rest of the Frenzy had attacked of course—honor among bikers was about as realistic as peace in the Middle East—and Actionhero had whipped out his twin nickel plated automatics and went Gun Kata on them, shooting each target with icy precision, bullets flowing from target to target, Actionhero spinning and moving with the calm deadly grace of bullfighter as he killed hard. But as much fun as this was, the time on his SmartShades was showing quarter to 8 and he didn’t want to miss “Monday Night Raw” again. He keyed on his Bonefone and head dialed the link to his car. “Pimpmobile. Attack Pattern Rolling Thunder.” Silence. “Pimpmobile! PIMPMOBILE!! SUKI!!! ANSWER THE LINK GODDAMNIT!!!! “Chill Boss,” the voice said over the link, the modulated reverb static unable to mask the its honeyed sweetness. “You kept me waiting so long I decided to grab a snack. I’m inbound right now.” A street length away, Suki Katayama, Tokyo’s Queen of the Midnight Racing, and all around Sex Bomb It Girl, sat behind the wheel of the Pimpmobile, pushing the warwagon up to over 100, the gritty neon shadows of the City’s most notorious crimezone blurring as she rocketed to the Monday Night Firefight at the end of the road. “Suki K, in the pipe, 5 by 5.” She whispered in the link. “What? What the hell are you babbling about Girl Friday!?!?” “Oh let me play.” As the car reached gun rage she keyed the voice control. “Ace the cloak.” The Pimpmobile shimmered into view, a midnight black GTO customized so much you couldn’t find a square centimeter of factory stock and grafted with enough guns and rockets to invade Russia. Targeting reticles glowed to life on the inside of the windshield, locking on the remaining bikers. Suki smiled. “Weapons hot, bitches.” Smartlinked weapons fired, sending round after round of high velocity, flesh ripping, bone splintering, organ carving ammo, the targeting AI so slick it sent the bullets almost through the same hole on each targeted biker. Actionhero fixed her with a hard stare. “You deviated from mission parameters.” “Oh bite me, Boss. You had me waiting forever while you fought wannabe Jesse James over there and went all Woo on these fuck heads. I got hungry. “She held out the bag and smiled sweetly. “Want some? Curly fries with cheez sauce and extra jalapenos.” “If you got any of that crap on the upholstery I’m going to make you clean it with your tongue. And what if I needed the Pimpmobile’s weapons systems while you were curing your munchies craving?” “Yeah because I didn’t customize this ride. Oh wait. Yes. Yes I did. I know what this baby can do and I was monitoring your situation so I knew you were cool and that I’d be there when you needed me.” “I don’t know what the hell kind of special treatment you think you’re entitled to just because Silky and Gonzo think of you as some kind of princess and indulge your every whim but if you deviate from the mission one more time I will personally send youback to Japan on the first supersonic available. DUCT TAPED TO THE NOSE CONE. GOT ME?” Suki stared at Actionhero for a moment, her face solemn. Then, with calculated deliberateness, she stuck her tongue out at him.
“I can’t believe you got your nose pierced,” he said, shaking his head. “God you are like my mom.” “You know, as CEO of Man of Mystery, Inc. you do have a look you have to project.” “Please. It’s not like this is a real corporation. And besides, at least this is one hole in my body I know I can fill when ever I want.” And when she walks, Vittoria was out of bed a split second after she heard the screams from Suki’s room, and charging down the hallway, her pajamas flapping, full auto Beretta and consecrated dagger in her hands. She kicked open Suki’s door and ducked into the room in a smooth roll, coming up in a fighting crouch, gun and dagger at the ready. Suki was jumping up and down on her bed, her baby doll nighty barley hanging onto her body as she screamed at the large flat screen plasma TV that dominated one wall of her room. “DO YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKIN’!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU ROCK!!!!! ROCK BOTTOM ROCK BOTTOM!!!!!!!!! PUT HIS JABRONI ASS THROUGH THE FUCKING MAT!!!!!!!!”
Suki squealed hypersonic as she ripped over the package sent by courier owl from Imperatrix Holdings, LTD. “What is it Suki?” the Girl said from across the room as she field-stripped an HK assault rifle. “Ves scored us front row seats to Linkin Park!! ROCK!! I am so going to wail on all those pussies in the mosh pit!!!”
“Okay, anyone else here want to grab my ass and tell me that Import Cars can’t compete with piece-of-shit GMs, Fords and Chryslers in NASCAR? No? How about you? You want some? Yeah?” She advanced on a Country Cunt Gretchen Wilson wanna-be wearing a rebel flag halter and pair of Daisy Dukes who was shaking her head in utter fear. With a smooth move she jumped up and gave her an elbow shot that landed right on her trailer park perm. Looking aroud the room once more, she walked out of the bar with a sassy spin on her heel, all the self-assurance of an Imperial Princess. “And for the record, Dale Earnhardt was my bitch.”
“Jesus Wept Suki,” Vittoria said as she looked up from her computer in Man of Mystery’s main office, making a face like she just ate a communion wafer flavored with expired lox. “What the hell are you listening to?” “‘I Stand Alone’ by Godsmack,” Suki said, not looking up from the paper work on her desk. “Why are we listening to this?” “Because it was in ‘Scorpion King’ and I love the Rock. Plus it’s good music to rebel against the man to.” “The man? Suki, you run a corporation with a history of questionable ethics and rampant mercenary amorality started by stolen money whose sole mission statement is to be the major puppeteer in the City. Suki, you ARE the man.” “Fuckin’ A.” “So what are you reblling against?” Suki looked up, lit a cigarette, took a drag and smiled. “Watta ya got?”
“She’s a pain in my ass, Silk. It’s like the horror stories the married tell me about their teen aged spawn.” “You’re just saying that because you’re not used to having a woman around here, motherfucker. This place needs a feminine touch, make it all smooth and silky.” “Feminine? Come here.” Actionhero led Silky into the garage and showed him Suki, dressed in ragged, greasy overalls, a crop top wifebeater, a tacky colored work shirt with the name “Bob” stitched on it and bandanna, sprawled out on a beach cahir taking a hit from a wizard shaped bong and chasing it with a sip of Old English malt liquor. “I like it. It’s sexy and raw and grungy and hot,” Silky said, rubbing his chin and giving Suki a critical once over. “She makes it work, like Eliza Doolittle at the Beginning of My Fair Lady. All dirty little coven garden hoochie but you can see the Audrey underneath.” She looked up through red eyes at the Pimp Samurai and the Gunfighter Adventurer, smiled, and losing none of her charm, let out a large belch. Actionhero looked at Silky. “Oh yeah. She fucking ready for the races at Ascot. Fucking loverly.”
Suki walked through the corp. party, oblivious to the stares that washed over her: the perfectly cut hair style, the almost dress of red silk that showed off mile long legs crafted by God, the imported Italian stilettos, the plunging backline that almost reached her ass, the almost glowing SkinPrint body art—kanji characters running down her taut, toned back spelling out a particularly dirty haiku. She didn’t notice the women’s jealous stares or the fact that she ruined every man in there for all other women. God I hate going to these things. So Goddamn boring. Man I hate being a CEO. It’s not like I run a real corporation. I wonder if they’re watching Smackdown at the bar downstairs. HEY! Shrimp cocktail! Yummy!!” Cause she is watchin’ wrestling As Suki drifted off to sleep, she gave one last bleary eyed look at the autographed Magnum P.I. poster that Gonzo, Vittoria, and Westie had given her for her birthday, she didn’t know what to dream about first: Tom or his Ferrari.
Wheel hit the accelerator on the Kirby Cycle, blasting down the Beachfront Avenues of Shell beach like the Herald of Galactus. Suddenly, a black Trans-am pulled right along side him. He checked his speed and wondered who the blue hell could keep pace with him. He turned and saw Suki Katayama in a white “Miami Vice” suit. She turned, lowering her gold oversized sunglasses and smiled at him. And then she raised her hand, extended her middle finger and hit the accelerator, screaming ahead of Wheel and giving him just the quickest fleeting look at her license plate. KITT.
“Vit?,” she asked over the Digital telepathy link. “Who are we shooting again?” “Uh…ninjas?’ Vitrroria said as she decapitated someone with a massive battle-axe, something from Achlis that she’d picked up from the museum. Too well dressed to be ninjas right Gonz?, Suki asked as she dropped inot a perfect split on the floor just in time to dodge a decapitating slash and shot her attacker right in the crotch. “Not ninjas” Gonzo answered, pumping his shotgun and blowing a hole a hippo could ballet through in the torso of another attacker. “I think they’re Triad. I would like to know who the fuck keeps sending people to attack us at the Savage Building though.” Yeah me too, Suki said, smashing her pistol across the jaw of a female attacker and then shooting her in the chest as she feel to the ground. “I don’t know this is kind of fun,” Westie said, as she kicked an intruder through a window, dropping him over a dozen stories to the street below. She had a pair of Uzis but seemed to prefer kicking people in the head. “Is that why you hang out here all the time?” Suki said as she pulled a jump off a wall and flipped in mid air, shooting 4 more attackers in their heads. “And here I thought it was because Gonzo has a cute ass.” “Well be does have a peach of an ass. But actually this is more fun than going to the gym. “Sure, Suki said as she paused before a stunned attacker sipping a pistol almost hypnotically and then stopping it dead center of his eyes and pulling the trigger. “It’s like pilates with a body count.” There she goes again
“Oh chill out Vit. You really need to get over that thing about nudity.” “But…but you posed for that magazine!! Naked!!” “Well it was flattering that they asked me to be in their ‘Boardroom Bombshells’ issue and invited me out toe the Mansion and all. That grotto is so damn cool. Remind me to have one built. You know, no one ever called me a bombshell before and a girl does like to be flattered. Something the Boss never understood. And they put me on the cover too. That rocks.” “But YOU’RE NAKED!!!” “Well it was tastefully done so think of it as art. Besides I wasn’t really naked. I was wearing the cowboy boots and the hat. That’ll show that fucking Jessica Alba skank. I should have been Nancy and I would have gone full on nude too. Pussy.” “I give up.” “Well come on and help me pick out some PJs. Heff invited me back for movie night tonight and I want to wear some cute ass pajamas. Show those bunny ass hoes of his how we kick it Far East Side Style at Silky’s Sword Garden and Pagoda of Funk. You know, you could come too. Heff’d really like you.” “I am not stepping one foot in that place.” “Oh come on! Did I mention the grotto is really really cool?”
“No.” “But I haven’t said anything yet!” “I don’t have to be Quentin Holte to read your mind. The answer is NO!” “Come on!! It’ll be fun!! And you do have those passes….” “I told you they were for a fictional persona. I hate that shit. If you want to go, then go. Take your stoner enginehead friends. I’m not stopping you.” “But I want you to come. It’s more fun when you go. There’ll be fast cars and fried foods and hot chicks in halter tops….” “If I want hot chicks in halter tops I’ll order some from Silky.” “You’re such a killjoy!!!!” “Why are you pestering me? GO! Or don’t!! I don’t care!! You keep the cars running and when you’re done do what you want!!! For the last time I WILL NOT TAKE YOU TO A NASCAR RACE AND GO TAILGATING IN THE INFIELD!!!!!!” “You’re going to make me cry….” “You’re going to make me shoot you….” “PLEASE!!! PRETTY PLEASE!!!!!” “Oh for fuck’s sake fine, I’ll take you!! Just knock off with the girl tears.” “You’re the bestest Boss.” “Will you stop talking like that? Come one, get dressed and bring me some guns. Given the target demographic of this sport, I just may have to kill some people.” “Hey that’s the whole reason I want to you take me. I want to see you make Dale Earnhardt your bitch.” Actionhero looked at her and with the barest ghost of a smile ruffled the girl’s hair. “You’re okay Suki. Tell you what: bring a pair of Woo Pistols for yourself and pick out your best ride. If the opportunity presents itself, you can make Earnhardt your bitch.” Suki just looked at him with wide eyes. “Yay!”
Five Long Island iced teas later Vittoria was giggling and hanging off of Gonzo’s neck, half-snuggling, half-grinding into him on the dance floor to Joe Budden’s “Pump It Up.” Not that Gonzo was complaining: Suki had gotten Wheel and Doctor Curare to challenge him to a drinking contest with Quetzelcouatl tequila so he was feeling no pain and for once was relaxing and not bitching about her behavior. Westie was all but sober. Suki had tried to get her smashed on pints of gin but damn that Girl could drink. Still, Westie was enjoying herself immensely, grinding herself into Gonzo’s back, sandwiching him between herself and Vittoria, her superspy hands roaming all over the intertwined bodies. Occasionally, Westie would kiss Gonzo, then Vittoria (who giggled and kissed back) and then would turn Gonzo’s head and have him kiss the Catholic Assassin. And every now and then, she would turn to Suki sitting at the bar with the Invisibles, andmsmile and wink and mouth the worlds “Thank You.” Suki smiled. “Moo Hoo Ha Ha.” She turned and saw Empress Vesica and Miz Dandy giving her looks of slight reprimand, arched eyebrow and all. “What?” Suki said, putting on an innocent face.
Kasigi Omi closed the file on Suki Katayama that had been gathered by his own intelligence operatives, supplanted by information from the Interest and the Planetary Guides the Cripple had sent him. And smiled. The Countdown To Visibility Continues.
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