Chapter 6: First Couple of Clues

The gang decides that their first course of action should be to discover the man behind the bounty, and sets out to crack the case.

Almost immediately after trying on our combat armor and analyzing all of our evidence, the gang and I pulled out of Xavier's driveway in a solar-powered car much like the one I owned back at home. Within the next forty minutes or so, we made our way to a gun shop not far into the nearby city, where we managed to find a parking spot on the curb right outside the door.

"Honestly, I'm kinda' surprised we were able to find a gun shop so easily, given the fact that we're in California and all," I commented. "Not to mention, if Maria's crew was based all the way over in New York, why would they feel the need to get their guns from clear across the country?"

"I dunno, but I'm still baffled as to how those so-called professionals didn't scratch the serial numbers off their guns as soon as they got their hands on them," Tequila added. "That's just common sense, at least by criminal standards."

"Well it's a good thing they didn't. Otherwise we'd have almost no evidence to follow," Xavier replied as he opened the door for us.

"Afternoon, folks!" an old man in a golf shirt greeted us. "What can I do ya' for? Ya' here to purchase some guns? Flashy holsters? Maybe some NRA memberships? They come with free bumper stickers!"

"Nope, nope, and hell no! We're just here to ask a few questions." Xavier briefly held up a business card. "I'm a certified scientist who occasionally works with the FBI. I've been informed that some guns were purchased from here and wound up in the hands of criminals. In fact, they're the same ones who attacked the Plaza Hotel last December."

"Wait, what?" the cashier raised a mostly gray eyebrow.

"All I ask is that you let us take a look at the purchase history for this shop, and we'll be on our way," Xavier continued, taking on a more relaxed stance and tone.

"You're damn right you'll be on your way as soon as I-!" the cashier protested.

Xavier cut him off by roughly slapping his business card onto his face, before Tequila grabbed him by the collar and leaned in close, adopting a half-menacing, half-sultry look in the process.

"In case you haven't heard, the three of us are temporarily against the law. Now my partners wanna go easy on ya', but something tells me you're assisting in a cover-up," Xavier spat. "Even if that's not true, I still can't help but smell something rotten."

"Well hey, we... we do sell gunpowder here." the cashier gulped.

After taking a few seconds to recollect his business card, Xavier snapped his fingers, prompting me to roughly sweep a large assortment of guns and accessories off the counter.

"Okay, okay! I'll show you the shop history! It's in the back!" the cashier gave in.

---

With a nod, we let him go as he silently led us through a door behind the counter. The room contained an ordinary desktop computer, on which he typed in a password, before stepping aside and allowing Xavier to sit down in front of the monitor.

"J-Just be sure to log out and shut the door... wh-when you're done," the cashier said, trembling as he left us alone in the back room.

"No problem," Xavier replied much more calmly as he began to scroll through the purchase history. "Alrighty then, let's start with the purchases made prior to December 15th, 2042."

Tequila and I silently stood back, waiting patiently as he continued scrolling, his eyes constantly darting between the computer screen and the photos on his phone. The cranking of the small wheel on top of the mouse was the only source of noise within the room, aside from the air conditioner, which formed goosebumps on all three of us.

"Man, I sure wish we hadn't left those armor suits back home," Tequila whispered in my ear, rubbing her arms. "God knows they'd be useful here."

"Hmm, well this is peculiar..." Xavier's voice trailed off as he kept analyzing.

"What is?" I asked, stepping up and peering over his shoulder.

"I managed to find all the serial numbers from that night at the Plaza, and I can identify the people who used these guns based on their fingerprints... but the names I found don't match the name behind all of these purchases," Xavier explained. "It seems that they were all made by the same completely unrelated person."

"And not just any person. It says here that the guy responsible is... Mike Seymour?" Tequila questioned. "Say, isn't he that guy we saw in the paper a few months back? Y'know, second richest man in the states, who just made his comeback after years of absence from the public eye?"

"Indeed." I nodded.

"The question is, why in the blue hell would he want to kill us?" Xavier asked.

"Well ya' got me," I replied. "Our best bet would be to ask him, but given his status, I'm sure that'll be easier said than done."

"Well how about we start by finding out where he is? ...which will also be difficult, given his status. You know how rich people are, always roaming around," Tequila chimed in. "Heh, kinda' like those mini-bosses in Breath of the Wild. Hot damn, that game was my childhood!"

"Mine too," I replied.

"Same here, but can we stick to the topic at hand, please?" Xavier interjected, looking away from the computer screen for once. "I know tracking him down, let alone speaking to him, will be difficult, but if we're looking for a good starting point, then why don't we stop at his residence first?"

"Good idea, but where's that?" I asked.

"Hitsville, Montana," Xavier simply replied.

"Never heard of that place before," Tequila commented.

"It's a small town. Nothing too notable ever happens there, so hardly anyone discusses it much," Xavier explained. "But they say that Mike's mansion is located there, so that should be a good place to start."

"Smart thinking as always, X," I replied.

---

After Xavier looked over the results on the computer once more, he finally logged out and the three of us made the drive back to his mansion to spend the rest of the day. The time between then and sundown was spent re-exploring the countless amenities to be found there, and it was all capped off with a dinner of leftovers from the previous night. Shockingly, we were able to polish off the last of the food despite there being one less person to help us do that.

Once all was said and done, I retired to the guest suite and lay back on the bed, turning on the TV as I did so. To my surprise, the first thing to pop up on screen was a familiar talk-show host.

"Good evening, everyone! I'm Teddy Griffin, one of the very few who actually enjoyed the job he was forced into during the Gonzalez era!" Teddy announced, prompting the audience to laugh a little. "Before we get started, allow me to briefly promote the show's new sponsor, 'Boiling Point USA', a national food-truck service that's run by millennials, serves all-American fare, and donates 75% of its proceeds to progressive political campaigns! Ahem. Now without further ado, here's our first guest: the second richest man in the states, Mike Seymour."

As the audience applauded, Mike stepped out on stage and took a seat, waving at the crowd for a spell. He was a tall, lanky, Caucasian man with a bleached blonde butch-cut and teal eyes. Peculiarly, he possessed a kumquat-sized lump in his right ear, with some dark violet stitches over it.

"Great to have you here on the show, Mikey," Teddy said as the two shook hands.

"And it's great to be on here, Ted!" Mike replied with a grin.

"So, uh, what say we just get down to business here? It's been a good three months since you randomly drifted ashore down in Florida after all those years. Would you say you're back to your old self now?" Teddy inquired.

"Absolutely," Mike responded. "I could go on a whole tangent about what I was up to while I was away, but that would take up the whole show's block. Ever since I got back, I've been busy traveling all over the country and checking up on all my businesses, all the while nursing myself back to health and getting readjusted to modern American culture. Sure, I found out that $90,000,000 were stolen from the bank I own over in Philly, but overall, God knows how good it feels to be back!"

At that, the audience clapped and cheered for a few more seconds, though all I could do was keep my eyes glued to the screen in slight suspicion. Why was the guy who supposedly provided assistance to a criminal organization allowed to make an appearance on late-night TV? And what was the deal with that lump in his ear?

My immersion was briefly broken as the bathroom door opened. Tequila stepped out through the cloud of steam that escaped into the room and briefly walked in front of the TV. Her n*****s left some rather prominent lumps in the two-piece silk pajama set she wore, which had a snowy leopard-print. Her normally red hair was so damp from the shower that she could probably pass for a brunette, and in her hands was an equally damp Chilean flag bikini, which she hung up to dry on a rack above the radiator.

"What'cha watchin'?" Tequila asked, snuggling up to me on top of the bed.

"Up Late with Teddy Griffin," I replied. "Tonight's special guest is Mike Seymour, so I figured I'd watch, seeing how we're gonna see him soon."

"Smart move." Tequila nodded.

"Huh, stranded on an uncharted island? Well that sounds like a lot of fun," Teddy continued. "But uh, is there anything else interesting that you'd be willing to share with us?"

"Well there was this one time where I stopped by a prison. I found and bailed out a young inmate so we could team- AAGH!" Mike abruptly held his ear and grunted, twitching as though he was on the receiving end of a painful shock.

"Wait a minute, did you see that?" I asked my wife.

"See what?" Tequila gave me a quizzical look.

"H-He just twitched! On live TV! Did you seriously not notice?!" I replied, looking more closely at the screen.

"Well I'm not really seeing much of a twitch, but he seems to be in pain, and... hey, that lump!" Tequila's eyes glinted in alarm. "I'm almost positive we've seen this before."

"Oh, uh, sorry there, Teddy. I had a minor injury in my ear and required a surgery for it after I got back. It's kinda' swollen, and sometimes the pain flares up," Mike said, though I could tell he was lying. "But yeah, I just decided to adopt some young delinquent I found in the cell, and maybe raise him the way his parents refused to."

"Aww, that's very noble of you." Teddy grinned. "It's always nice to see a rich person take in a kid."

"Yeah, something suspicious is going on here," I commented.

"I think there might be more to this situation than we thought," Tequila replied. "Maybe Mike isn't the one who hired these assassins, or at least not the only one."

"All I know is we'd better report this to Xavier first thing in the morning," I declared.