"Gambit."

"Maurice, old enemy." Gambit stood casually as the courtyard swiftly filled with assassins. "Dese y' own apprentices?"  He clucked, sounding disappointed.  "Y' standard's dropped, mon frere.  'Sides, what y' doin' here?  Not t' get ol' Gambit."

"'Kill if you get a chance', homme.  Gambit is always on de list."

"But not an active hit.  Why y' here?"

"Not y' luck tonight, Remy.  Wrong place... wrong time...  Assassins after dat UN President, but we c'n find him anytime.  Gambit... not so easy t' track.  No hard feelings, Remy.  Y' understand?"

"Dis t'ing 's old as de Guilds.  Still, how do de English say it... dis an overkill?  Or are y' expecting Gatchaman t' appear?"

"Y' worried, Remy?"

"Non, Maurice, y' should know better.  Y' jus' tres outnumbered.  Dis all y' got?"

Jinpei's eyes widened.  #Is he looney?  Three was easy, thirteen's way too unfair!#  He drew a set of clackers from his pocket.

"Outnumbered?!  Y' have spirit, Gambit!  I admire that in a dead man.  Take hi--!"

Maurice's words ended in a strangled choke as Jinpei's clackers encircled his neck, crushing his windpipe.  The assassins turned their attention away from Gambit for just a moment as their leader fell behind them.

"What de--"

"It seems you might need a bit of help." Jinpei landed among the confused assassins and threw a quick punch into one man's sternum, driving his fist into the heart.  He followed up with a jumping roundhouse kick that sent the dying man flying into five assassins, knocking them off their feet.

Gambit took the pause to his advantage as well as a sweep of his Bo knocked the dart guns out of the assassin's hands.

"Hope you don't mind, thirteen against one didn't seem too good."

Cards flew through the air, slicing into hands and making the targets drop their firearms.

"Pourquoi?  Y' de suspicious sort?  Thirteen is one o' my lucky numbers.  But... I don't look a gift horse in de mouth, petite."

"Hey!  Don't call me little one!  I--am--not--little!" Jinpei punctuated each word with a fist, arm, knee, or foot into vital anatomies of the hapless assassins.

Gambit laughed as his Bo snapped the neck of an assassin, even as his foot crushed the windpipe of another one.

"Y' good, cher.  What y' called?"

"Jinpei.  And they called you 'Remy'?"

"Oui.  So y' enjoy de show?"

"You knew I was hiding?"

"Y' should 'ave put down dat old can, cher.  Hard t' miss y' when dere be a glint in de shadows," he laughed,  "*If* y' know what t' look out f', y' c'n spot anythin'.  I been on de list too long, Still alive 'cause I'm careful."

"A 'Kill if you get a chance' list?  What on earth did you do?"

"Dat would be tellin', cher."

"Awww, come on.  Really."

"I've been around... Den... some'll say it's cause I killed a man an' some folks took offense t' it.  Y' decide f' y'self, neh?"

"Here's to living dangerously."

An observer couldn't say which infuriated the assassins more.  Their inability to lay a hand on their two erstwhile 'prey,' or their prey's nonchalant conversation as the assassins fell to the skilled strikes.

The battle was fast, furious, and short.  Just what Jinpei was used to.  He took out the last assassin by splitting his legs, dropping to the ground and punching the poor guy in the privations.  The sickened assassin dropped his blade into the palm of Jinpei's waiting hand, to have it returned hilt first into his temple.

Remy smiled as Jinpei tossed the knife away.  The tall man walked over to run his fingers through Jinpei's long hair.

"Excellente!  Indeed y' are a fine Cockerel, Monsieur Jinpei."

"What did you call me?"

"I'm saying y' are a fighting rooster, which is a good compliment for you, mon ami." His laughing hazel red eyes twinkled at the boy.

Jinpei couldn't help but grin back.  But Jinpei's impish smile didn't stay on his face for very long.  From a dark corner of the courtyard, something flickered ominously and a black blade came flying straight at Remy's back.

"Look out!" Jinpei pushed Remy down by his shoulder as he leaped over the man to try to catch the blade.

Remy heard the boy's gasp as he rolled away to land back on his feet in a ready crouch.  His eyes scanned the area looking for the missed assassin, but the man wisely and quickly retreated.  The thief cursed under his breath, they had to get that assassin before he roused the Guild.

"Oow, that's one sharp knife."

Remy swung to face him, the assassin forgotten in the face of this development.  Jinpei looked up from his bleeding hand to stare at the sick fear that suddenly filled the man's face.

"What's wrong?  It's only a cut?  Is--isn't it?"  A wave of nausea enveloped him.

Remy swore as he reached down to tear the sleeve off one of the dead assassins and move swiftly to Jinpei's side to tie a tourniquet around his arm.

"If only!  De Assassins put poison on dere knives, Cockerel.  A nick c'n kill.  Y' listen t' me, good.  Try not t' move.  We don' want de poison t' circulate too fast." Remy held the arm against his side.  "We got t' reach m' safe house, I c'n make de antidote dere."

"Wha--?" Jinpei blinked at him as he stood in the courtyard clutching his bloody hand.  He felt vertigo starting to seep into his suddenly numbed mind.  "What's--happening to--"

Remy picked him up in his arms and started to run.  "Don't waste y' energy, Cockerel.  I'll take care o' you.  M' bike's not far."

"What kind--"

"Escillis."

Jinpei could feel his blood turn colder.  He remembered hearing of that poison.  It promised death in 2 hours or less.  But he couldn't remember there being a antidote for it.  A seed of fear started to pound in his heart.

"Don't be scared, cher.  It send de poison racing in y' veins.  Calm down, I know o' a antidote.  M' nanny taught me how t' make it 'fore I left de Big Easy.  Y' trust Remy now."

Remy let him puke his guts out before he settled the boy in front of him on the bike and tore down the streets.

"Y' hold on now, y' hear me, boy?  De hospital cannot help y' an' m' house not in de city.  We jus' 20 minutes away.  C'n y' hang in dere, boy?"

"D--do--don't call--me--boy.  I'm--old--enough--"

"Shhh, save y' breath, little man."

The bike screamed through the silent streets.  But those streets weren't silent for very long.  Remy cursed as he saw a car turn out of a street after him.

"Cockerel, y' got t' be brave now.  We got us a tail.  An we got t' lose it before we head f' m' chateau.  A safe house no use t' us if de assassins attack us 'fore we get y' well again, d'accord?"

"Wha--what?"

"We gotta take de scenic route t' lose our tail, Cockerel." Remy held back his curse as he glanced into the side mirror and saw another two cars appear behind them. "C'n y' hold on?"

"Yes."

Remy could feel the boy shivering against him.  They'd finally lost their tail three blocks back.  He cursed himself as he took another three turns, just to be sure.  He couldn't risk having the assassins pounce on them while he made the antidote.  The boy would be dead for sure if he had to fight off the assassins first.

"We goin' t' Remy's chateau now, Cockerel.  Y' still with me?"

"Yes." Jinpei's voice was so soft, Remy almost missed hearing it over the roar of the bike.

Remy cradled Jinpei in his arms as he leaped off the bike, letting the machine slide to a halt of its own volition in the driveway.  The boy was burning up against him as he momentarily fumbled with the door.

"Ca-can't--Aniki?  I--can't--feel--Aniki--?"

Remy could hear the fear in the boy's voice as he dashed up the stairs three steps at a time.  A kick slammed open the door to the room and he lay the pale boy on the bed.

"Aniki?  Onechan?  I-I-I'm sca--"

"Gonna be all right, Cockerel.  Y'll see.  Remy know what t' do."

"Remy?  Wha--?"  A dark shape appeared at the door.

"Escillis, Andre!  Any o' de staff know ho--"

"Non.  None o' us steady enough wit--" The figure gasped in shock.

"Den keep dem out o' m' way.  Alert de Grand Master!"

The shadow at the door quickly disappeared as Remy continued to rummage through an ancient chest, pulling out various bags of herbs and poultices.  "Jinpei!  Come on, Cockerel, talk t' Remy.  Y' try t' continue talking now.  Remy don' know how fast dis poison affecting y'."

But the figure had turned silent on him.

"Cockerel?" Remy started throwing measured portions of herbs and liquid into the urn.  "Come on, talk t' me!  Boy?!"

The instant rejoinder telling him not to call him 'boy' did not emerge.  Remy cursed as he mashed the herbs and ran to the kitchen with the urn to put it over an open flame.

"Been only 1 hour 14 minutes!  He's jus' a boy--non, a little man.  Tante Mattie, this Cajun sure hope he remember y' teachings right.  Dis de first time he make dis wit' out y' supervision since he left de Big Easy."

Remy impatiently watched the potion simmer as he stirred in a measured motion, willing it to change color to signify its readiness.  He didn't dare leave it or turn the fire too high.  It had to be just right.  Heated too long or too fast and the potion would be unusable; agitated too much or too little and the potion's effectiveness would be lost and he'd have to start again.  He didn't think he had the luxury of time for a second try.

After what seemed like an eternity of stirring and heating, the green finally faded to the right shade of brown.  Remy carefully poured the thickened potion into a handy mug and carried it back to the room;  Blowing on it all the while to try to bring down the temperature.

#Cockerel ain't gonna like it if Remy burn his throat t' save his life.#

Remy pushed the boy into a seated position resting against his shoulder.  One hand supported his jaw and mouth as the other hand rested the mug against his lips.

Remy's jaw tightened when he noted that the evil smelling potion didn't generate any reaction from Jinpei's face.  Gently, he poured a little of the potion into Jinpei's mouth and placed the mug down again.  His hand gently stroked the throat.

"Slowly, Cockerel, swallow.  Swallow, Remy don't want t' end up drowning y' either.  Come on, swallow dis f' Remy." He whispered in his ear.  "Swallow, Jinpei.  Please swallow, Jinpei."

Jinpei's Adams apple bobbed in an almost imperceptible motion.  Remy almost cried in relief as he reached for the mug again.  Little by little, the potion went down.  After an agonizing eternity, which lasted only ten minutes, the last of the potion was swallowed.

Remy lay down the empty mug and lowered the boy back into the bed.  A maid entered the room with a basin of water and a face towel.  Remy took the basin and towel from her and waved her away.

As he wiped the pale face with the cool towel, Remy mused over the last two hours.  Two hours ago, he had never set eyes on the boy.  Now he was praying that he managed to save his life.

"How do y' always do dis t' y'self, Remy?  Dis why y' take y' jobs alone... so y' don't have t' care 'bout anyone else.  How did dis happen t' y'?  Sick boy in y' bed...  Could be dying, an' it's y' fault.  Y' don' e'en know de boy, so why do y' even care?!  Someone laughing at y' now, Remy."

If the boy lived, it was going to be a long night.  But to his own surprise, Remy didn't mind.  He would welcome it.  He turned to look at the clock...

Joe returned from his swift survey of the wharf area to where the rest of the team had gathered.  Jun could already tell by his face what he had found...  nothing.

<It's just like that kid to go off on his own.  Thinks he's a one man army all the time!>

Ken's look silenced Joe before he said any more.  Jun wasn't even aware of the concerned look the two exchanged as they turned towards her.

<Where did he go the last time you saw him, Jun?>  Ken asked her gently.

<H-h-he said he saw a movement of shadows in a side street next to the hotel.  God knows... I should have leashed him.  Once he gets the thought of doing something by himself...> She stopped in frustration.

Ken studied Jun's face for a moment before he turned to Joe and Ryu.  <I'll take care of things here.  Joe, check back behind the hotel and along the streets.  Ryu, start checking the other 'usual' places.>

That made Jun jump in sudden shock.  <The hospitals...>

<Jun, go back to the motel.  We'll take care of this.>  Ken caught her arm before she could bolt.  <If he comes back, I want you there to talk to him instead of me.  If I find him, I'm gonna chew his ass real good for this little stunt.>

Jun didn't like the idea of being excluded, but Ken was right.  With the responsibilities of undercover security weighing heavily on him, Ken already had enough on his mind without Jinpei pulling a disappearance on them.  Ken was letting her warn Jinpei first before the boy faced his commander.

Joe stole a glance at Ken's tight expression before he set off.  This was one of the many times he didn't envy Ken's position as their commander.  Sometimes a fine line stood between his treating them as soldiers and as his friends and family.  They all knew of Jinpei's displeasure at missing out on the various attractions in the President's tour.  But for Jinpei to pull a stunt like this...

They all knew that Ken hated enacting the law of the military on them.  He would close an eye when he could, but at a time like this...  Joe knew that Ken understood the boy's restlessness, but he would still have to punish Jinpei for leaving his post without reporting in.

They all prayed that Jinpei would turn up soon with a satisfactory explanation for his disappearance.  Ken was agreeable enough to sending the others out to search for Jinpei while he handled the final watch alone.  But he wasn't going to be light on Jinpei, if it turned out the boy was just being irresponsible.