Jet

Obsession

"Damn it, Jet, why are you still here?" Smellerbee asked in an exasperated tone as she fiddled with the knife at her belt.

"I'm watching them, waiting for proof," the lanky tan skinned boy replied, backing further into the shadows of the stinking alleyway.

"Please, Jet, just come with us. We need to find jobs and a place to stay. You're wasting your time and all because you saw the old man drinking hot tea."

"He made it hot," Jet hissed. "I know they're firebenders. I just have to catch them at it."

"So you do, then what?" Smellerbee rasped. Her big eyes were narrowed with anger. "Are you going to attack them? Are you going to kill them?"

"No, I'll call the authorities. I promise. They can take care of it. But, I want them caught and I want them put away."

Smellerbee looked to their silent friend, Longshot, who looked back, his eyes showing all the fear and apprehension he felt. The girl warrior felt an odd tingling sensation along her spine. This situation would not end well.

"Come on guys," Jet continued in an upbeat tone, crooked smile lighting up his handsome features. "Once I get this taken care of, we'll have a great life….no more crime; A new beginning just like we talked about."

"Whatever, Jet," Smellerbee replied. "Let's go, Longshot."

Jet didn't move from the vicinity of the teashop. He kept sharp eyes on both the boy and the old man, looking for, waiting for, any indication that they were firebenders. They didn't reveal themselves but that didn't mean the pair was innocent. Jet knew what he saw back at that train station. And he knew what it meant. Patience, it seemed, would get him nowhere with these two. It was time for action. Once he blew the whistle on them, everyone would rally around him. They would see what he saw. And the Fire Nation scum would get what they deserved.

Jet burst into the teashop, and announced to everyone that the old man and his charge were firebenders. Drawing his hook swords, he stood ready to attack. They had the nerve to look surprised, all of them. No one helped. No one believed a word he said. Jet felt what little control he had left slip away and he attacked, hoping to force them to firebend in self defense.

The scarred one took up his challenge, grabbing twin swords from a customer (an officer of some kind). He looked angry and his skill far surpassed what even Jet had thought it might be while still on the ferry. The youth parried every swing, every swipe, moving with the grace and swiftness of a pantherhawk. And he, Jet, looked like the bad one; he was on his own. That was okay. He had lots of experience taking care of business without help.

The fight moved outside, along with all the tea drinkers, the old man wringing his hands like an anxious woman and insisting that Jet was mistaken. The Freedom Fighter taunted the young swordsmen, hoping beyond hope that either he or the old one would make fire. It didn't work and then everything fell apart.

Two men, dressed in dark green robes, officials of some kind, ordered them to drop their weapons.

"Good," Jet thought to himself. "Maybe they'll believe me."

"Those two are firebenders," he shouted, pointing at the two men wearing aprons and doing their best to look innocent.

The old man protested as he would, of course. Jet was sure tales of what happened to captured firebenders had reached the ears of even them. They would do anything to stay free; lying being the least. But, the tea shop owner stood up for them. He accused Jet of wrecking his shop and attacking his employees. True enough, he had, but couldn't they see why? What was wrong with all these people? The officer backed the tea shop owner up and then Jet knew he couldn't win.

They were blind, all of them, and they would be sorry. The officials approached him and he thrust out his sword. He would not be taken easily. But one official grabbed the sharp metal hook, his hand protected by a glove of stone. What kind of earthbenders were they? They took away his weapons and ordered his hands behind his back, using stone manacles to keep them in place.

Pushed into a prison wagon, he tried once again, desperate this time, fear eating away at him. Looking straight into the young one's gold eyes, he cried, "But they're firebenders. You have to believe me."

No one listened. Jet was just a disturbed kid, someone who needed help, someone who needed some time away. The wagon door slammed shut and Jet watched them until they were long out of sight.

"This city isn't safe. It's insane," Jet thought as the Dai Li agents (that's what they called themselves) took him below ground, far below where it was eerie and strange and green light, like he imagined faerie light to be when he was a small child, made only a dent in the darkness.

They dragged him to a room and bound him to a chair with their weird little rocks. He was terrified now and shouted again, insisting that the old man and the boy were firebenders, intent on ruling the world, just like all of them were.

He twisted in the chair, trying to free himself and rocks were molded to his forehead, keeping him still. Jet's heart raced now and sweat ran down his face. He looked around at the agents before him. They were all calm and used soothing voices, "like I was a hurt animal," Jet mused.

There was some sort of circular metal track with a lamp on it. Jet watched as the orange light moved along the track, passing in front of his face. He tried to look away, but the motion was mesmerizing. The Dai Li intoned, a deep sound that reached into Jet's mind and found purchase. He couldn't close his eyes despite his best efforts.

"There is no war in Ba Sing Se."

"What," he stuttered. "Of course there's a war. What are you talking about?"

"Here we are free."

The light passed once more in front of Jet's face and he was lost.