The elevator clanked noisily as it moved upward. A 'ding' sounded as the lift reached the desired level of its occupant, the rusting doors creaking as it slid open. Vega strode out of the aged lift and into a similarly dilapidated passageway. Pieces of trash and litter covered both sides of the path, and Vega grimaced as he picked his way across as gingerly as he could. Strings of curses in Spanish were uttered under his breath. Bile rose in his throat as he saw rats scrabbling amidst the filth. The place was filthy.
Vega despised filth.
Presently he stopped before a door, punching the doorbell savagely, willing the occupant to open the door as hastily as possible, loathe was he to remain in this place any longer than was absolutely necessary. The response was prompt, which was probably what had saved the man from having his throat ripped open by an increasingly agitated Vega as soon as he answered the door.
"I was expecting you, Master Vega," the man said, keeping his head bowed in deference. Vega snorted, pushing the briefcase into the man's arms with a forceful shove.
"You know what to do," Vega snarled. Before the man could utter a reply the consummate Shadowloo assasin had already turned, walking briskly down the passage.
The man gave a small sigh, closing the door as Vega disappeared around a corner, latching and double-latching the door before retreating back into the "hall" of the small, grungy apartment... that is, if the largest room in the living quarters could be so called. Instead of a sofa set, and perhaps a TV as many would expect, the room was utter trashed with papers, filled with an almost unreadable scrawl all over, though several mathematical symbols and formulas, as well as various letters of the Greek alphabet could be discerned if one stared long and hard enough. A metal chair, similar to the surgical chairs employed by dentists stood in the middle of the room, occupied by a youthful-looking Chinese girl.
She opened her previously-closed eyes, staring at the man with a cold, utterly inhumane look. "Has Vega been here?"
"He just left."
The girl held out an open hand wordlessly in a silent command. The man nodded, fumbling with the clasps of the briefcase. Several seconds passed, and the gold-plated steel locks clicked open. Gingerly the man opened the bag, his eyes scanning the contents as his eyes quickly narrowed into a tense frown.
"Mistress... there is only one remote psycommu unit..." the man began tentatively, as of expecting a sudden, harsh and violent reaction from the frail girl seated commandingly before him. The said reaction came quickly. The man cringed as twin circles of energy, arranged in a "wave" pattern appeared in the air, the smaller circle swirling clockwise, the larger anti-clockwise. With a barely audible whisper the girl uttered a phrase, and instantly his mind with raked by a searing pain. He fell to his knees, screaming in pain, clutching dishevelledly at his forehead as rapid waves of dark energy sliced deeply into him. The sensation lasted only a brief second, but it was enough to send the man into remission, shivering uncontrollably for several seconds from his spiritual injuries as the terrible feelings of pained despair slowly faded, but didn't disappear. They never did.
He fell to his knees, crawling forward, whimpering pathetically. The girl gave a small glance of contempt as she rose from her chair, her delicate fingers plucking both the brain implant and one of the remote psycommu units from the briefcase. The remote psycommu she strapped firmly to her wrist; the implant she held before her eyes, staring intently at it for several seconds...
The man shut his eyes tightly as he heard the crunch of steel piercing through bone, for he knew what was happening, and he didn't want to witness it. He waited, his frame trembling from a cold, morbid terror of the seemingly defenseless and coldly beautiful teenage girl before him. Several seconds passed, filled with the sound of flesh and muscle being torn apart, as well as the dull cracking sounds of human bone breaking under intense force.
He finally risked opening his eyes, fearfully raising his eyelids so that he could only see through a small slit. Drops of thick, dark blood spattered the floor, and more were still dripping from above. He raised his head. The girl was now seated once more, rivulets of rich blood trickling from an ugly, gaping wound from the back of her head where she had simply implanted her brain with the psycommu implant -- by pushing it through her skull. The man's guts twisted.
"S... shall I get you a... towel, mistress?"
"You have wasted enough of my time. Proceed with your task without delay."
"Coffee, Max?"
Max Hunter looked up. The smiling face of a Chinese woman in her mid-twenties stared back at him. Gratefully he accepted the cup of steaming black liquid, inhaling deeply, savoring the rich aromas of the beverage. The steaming cup was promptly downed in one gulp.
Xu Shufang winced as her superior set the cup down on a nearby desk. "You know, you're supposed to sip it slowly."
Max grinned. "Good coffee, that. How are things coming?"
The deputy chief mechanic raised her own cup to her lips, taking a small sip. "We've got everything ready and on schedule. The VanGuards should be prepared to launch anytime once Dr Tokai fixes the glitches with the psycommu units. I ordered Jack to run some last-minute tests on the VG systems a while back... he should be at it now."
Max sighed deeply, relaxing into his tall-backed chair. "Let's just hope nothing screws up tomorrow... the President will be after our heads if we mess this one up..."
Shufang opened her mouth, as if to reply, but the sudden roar of jet engines drowned her words. Max gasped, sitting up straight immediately, his eyes fixed in horror at the main charges of the VG Hangar. One of the two VanGuards had activated, seemingly all by itself, and was now standing erect, preparing to fire its jet thrusters for liftoff. It raised a giant, robotic hand, ripping off all cables attached to it with a single movement. All around the rogue VanGuard, system technicians and mechanics alike scattered in all directions, desperate to escape before the terrible heat from the VanGuard's thruster systems burned them into a black, lifeless crisp.
Max pounded a fist on the desk. "Who authorized this?" His voice was dangerously soft.
"Nobody, sir," Shufang replied calmly, seemingly unperturbed by the unsettling scene. "That was not supposed to happen."
A nearby intercom buzzed. "Chief!! We have a situation!"
"I KNOW!" Max screamed back into the mouthpiece, straining to make himself be heard over the din of the roaring jets. Overhead the VanGuard, the roof of the hangar was splitting into two, sliding apart and revealing the clear blue sky beyond it. "SHUT THAT GODDAM THING DOWN!! NOW!"
Static. Then a desperate voice. "We can't chief... the VanGuard's systems have been overriden by an outside source... what the... I don't believe this!!"
"WHAT??"
"Its a psycommu wave, chief. Someone's remote controlling the VanGuard via psycommu!!"
Max slammed a clenched fist onto the desk with enough force to crack and splinter the finely-polished wood, a million thoughts running through his mind on how the heck was the VanGuard being activated by a remote psycommu signal, each one worse than the last. He pressed the "Speak" button on the intercom unit, shouting into it. "DISABLE THE OTHER VANGUARD'S REMOTE PSYCOMMU FUNCTIONS NOW!! AND TRACK DOWN THE GODDAM SIGNAL!"
"Yes sir!"
[An hour later...]
Charlie Nash looked out of his airplane window. Hong Kong. The aircraft glided over the densely-populated island, jam-packed with multiple-storey buildings from his point of view. Streets, vehicles and people filled the rest of the spaces that were not occupied by the structures, moving like an unending stream. Charlie did not like what he was seeing. Land was a scarce commodity for the island, barely sufficient to sustain its booming population. And he had seen the negative impact -- first-hand -- that such a scenario could and would inflict upon the populace.
Still, he reminded himself to not make any prejudiced judgements. Getting onto a bad start with the Chinese government was the last thing he needed now. He had never liked the country, its style of political leadership in particular. Silently he wondered why on earth did the United States Air Force ever agreed to co-operate with the Chinese on this so-called "top-secret" military project; a project that he, Charlie Nash, was now sent as somewhat the equivalent of an American embassador to represent his country in this matter. Reluctant as he was, the top brass wanted it to be done, and him to do it. He had never been one to question orders.
The glass-and-steel structure of the Hong Kong International Airport -- or "Che-lijiao", as the locals dubbed it, built as it was on a piece of reclamed land -- loomed as the aircraft steadily reduced its altitude in readiness for taxiing. Charlie pushed himself against his seat, hearing the squeal of protesting rubber as the plane hit solid ground. The plane jolted once, twice, screaming down the runway at 500 kmh as the pilot gradully cut the speed, finally bringing the craft to a perfect stop.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie was striding loftily out of the airport, awaiting the discreet, low-profile government car that would take him to the Hong Kong National Robotics Centre, where the complete, assembled units of this VG Project was housed. It was then that his mobile phone beeped. Charlie removed it from his pocket, flipping it open and pressing a button before placing it at his ear. He waited in silence, not even offering a greeting, for the caller to identify itself.
"Colonel Nash." The flat voice spoke.
"Mr Vice President," Charlie said, recognizing the voice.
"The Chinese authorities contacted us ten minutes ago," the speaker continued. "There's been a change of plans, Colonel."
Charlie's throat tightened in anticipation. "Such as?"
"You'll be visiting only one of the two VG units now, Nash. The other one has been hijacked an hour ago. I don't have much details myself, but suffice to say the President has ordered you to co-operate with Chinese security forces to locate and recover the missing VanGuard, and arrest the hijackers. The official escort you're waiting for has been ordered to transport you to HK Interpol headquarters instead, where you'll be briefed on the finer details on this."
"What does Interpol know about this?" Charlie asked tensely.
"Just enough to keep them guessing. Relax, Nash; you can trust them. Its the Chinese officials I want you to keep an eye out for. The VanGuard units are worth billions in US dollars each, and pack the most advanced and destructive weaponry to date. Its been an open secret that China wants the VanGuards all for themselves. Still, Nash..."
"... keep myself in check, sir?"
"Exactly. Remember, we don't want a bad rapport with the Chinese, least of all now, so watch yourself. But keep your eyes and ears open all the same."
The line went dead, indicating the end of the conversation. Charlie snapped his mobile phone close before replacing it into his pocket. Damn these Chinks, Charlie found himself thinking. The VanGuards had gone missing under their watch. He swore silently. The Air Force had poured almost a trillion dollars worth of funding into the VG Project for the research costs, raw materials and for the construction and assemblage of the immensely sophisticated assault vehicles. Trust the Chinese to bungle it all up by losing the units... and he wasn't exactly looking forward to working together with Interpol agents either. The VG Project was supposed to be classified and highly sensitive, and the only people in the world who knew of its existence consisted of top-end American and Chinese officials. Bringing Interpol into the picture would only serve to further complicate matters, embarrasing both the US and the People's Republic of China, and Charlie silently wondered what had possessed the President into deciding to inform Interpol of this matter at all.
He sighed grimly. It looked like as if he was going to have a longer stay than he'd planned.
The phone rang.
Chun-Li scooped the fried fish out of the wok, allowing the cooking oil to drain before leaving the kitchen and walking towards the main hall where the phone was located, annoyed at the unwelcome intrusion of what had otherwise been a peaceful process of preparing lunch. Brushing her hands briskly on her apron, the Interpol detective picked up the handset. "Hello?"
"Chun-Li?"
"Commander Shirei..." Chun-Li said, her voice suddenly flat. Her sudden change of tone was to one of suspicion, garnered from her knowledge that Shirei rarely made personal calls, if at all. She could almost picture the sharp, ever-alert man in his mid-thirties in the eye of her mind. An extremely capable man, Shirei himself was shrouded in an aura of mystery, a constantly calm, collected man who never spoke any more than necessary. A dry chuckle reached her ears.
"Is that any way to greet your boss, Detective?" He asked in a casual manner.
"I don't know... usually one of your calls would mean that I have to report myself at HQ in 15 minutes."
Another small laugh. "You don't sound pleased."
Chun-Li sighed. "I do have to report myself at HQ, don't I?"
"I'm sorry about this as much as you are, Detective," Shirei's voice was suddenly back to normal, official and businesslike, though Chun-Li could almost detect an underlying tone of regret. "But I believe this one will pose a unique challenge, even for you. Chinese military officials contacted us a while back, requesting our assistance in recovering a top-secret assault machine that had been hijacked about an hour ago." Shirei paused, just long enough for a small smirk. "Apparently the Americans are involved in this as well, and both China and the US appear desperate to recover the machine as soon as possible."
Chun-Li raised an eyebrow. "What kind of machine? A fighter jet? Tank? Submarine? Space sattelite?"
"Neither. From what I've been told, its a humanoid-shaped assault vehicle, suited for all types of terrain and combat situations and outfitted with some of the most cutting-edge weapons and system software tech. I assume you haven't heard of the VG Project?"
"No, sir."
"That's good," Shirei smiled sardonically on the other end. "I'd be forced to haul you up before High Command if you have. Its an extremely hush-hush joint project between China and the US in the development of these..." Chun-Li heard the rustle of paper in the background, "VanGuard units. Now, Detective... the US envoy is set to arrive at HQ in approximately twenty minutes. Wouldn't look too good for us to be late, would it?"
"I'll be there, sir."
"Good." There was a slight pause. "Again, I apologize for this, Li. I'll see if I can wrangle you a vacation as soon as all of this is over and done with."
There was a small 'blip' as voice encryption was turned off at Shirei's end, before her commander wished her a good day and killed the line. Chun-Li replaced the handset, feeling somewhat dazed as the enormity of the events permeated her mind, then threw a quick glance at her watch, taking note of the time.
"There was only one VanGuard unit," Vega said, his voice dangerously neutral.
"There was only one remote psycommu you delivered," the girl replied softly, her voice slightly distorted by the digital speakers that transmitted her voice. Vega stared with cold fury at the image of the girl through the monitor, allowing the tension to build as neither of them spoke.
"OUT WITH IT, GIRL!!" Vega screamed angrily. "WHERE HAVE YOU HIDDEN THE OTHER UNIT!?!"
The girl appeared unperturbed by Vega's violent outburst. "I didn't hide it, Vega. You failed to keep to your duties, and I in turn could not do mine. There was only one remote psycommu unit in the briefcase, and I could not control both VanGuards with only one."
"Listen to me, you cheap bitch," Vega was now snarling through clenched teeth. "I do not care if you happen to be Lord Bison's favorite slut. I will personally slice you to strips of meat floss if you don't tell me where you have kept the other psycommu unit hidden NOW!!"
The girl sighed lightly. "I do not enjoy repeating after myself, Vega. I have done my best to keep to Lord Bison's orders. Both implants were inside the briefcase, but only one psycommu unit. Speaking of our master, I suggest you start thinking of a suitable answer for him when he questions you about this matter."
Vega's face twisted in fury, his mouth agape as if to scream out an angry reply, but the monitor abruptly went blank as the girl broke off the connection at the other end. Vega stared in surprise, his expression a mask of contorted fury until, as if suddenly coming to his senses, let out a wild howl, smashing his fist onto the keyboard positioned before him, crushing several of the keys in the process. Blood pounded in his temples as Vega stood, breathing heavily, as if suddenly realizing the effects his anger had on him. Reality set in and, regardless of whoever's fault it had been, Vega knew that Lord Bison would not be pleased.
He paused, taking several moments to calm himself down and reflect upon the events that had transpired since the last six hours. He had dealt with Dr Tokai, infiltrated the NRC VG Hangar and escaped with the psycommu systems -- all of it, both implants and both remote psycommu units. He had delivered it to that filthy bitch of a girl...
The boy.
Vega's right eyebrow twitched as he suddenly remembered the boy who had collided with him earlier. Dark, vague thoughts and possibilities invaded his mind. Had the boy been a pickpocket? Or perhaps he'd dropped it somewhere in the momentary confusion...?
[No,] Vega forced the thought fiercely out of his mind. He had carried the psycommu systems in a closed briefcase. He had NOT lost any of the units. It was the girl... she wanted the VanGuard for herself and had stashed the other unit somewhere. That was it. Vega felt himself breathe a little easier...
... until he recalled the little fact that his briefcase HAD been busted open during the collision. He had stooped down to lock it again, hastily, before any unwelcome, prying eyes could see what he was carrying. And the remote psycommu unit could just have easily slipped out unnoticed as...
Vega exhaled slowly. It was only a possibility, but definitely not one to be discounted. He narrowed his eyes.
Zhang reached out, ripping off the piece of paper taped to the wall. He recognized the handwriting almost instantly -- it was sensei's. His brow furrowed, reading the neat line of Chinese characters written by brush and ink.
Sensei wouldn't be home for lunch.
Sighing, Zhang dumped the bulky bag of laundry on the floor, his stomach growling as he plodded towards the kitchen, noticing the food sensei had prepared just before she had left. Hungry as he was, helped along by the arduous cycling under the hot sun with a load of clothes on his back, his curiosity got the better of his protesting stomach. He reached into his pocket, removing from it the "watch" he had picked up earlier.
[Wonder what the hell's this thing...] He mused silently as he fiddled absent-mindedly with the buttons.
Chun-Li knocked on the oaken door softly and waited. A voice from the other side ordered her to enter.
She pushed the door open, striding into the room beyond. The first thing she caught sight of was Commander Shirei, his eyes hidden behind the tinted glasses that never left the bridge of his nose as he gave her a dry smile. Three other men were in Shirei's office, both standing -- a middle-aged Chinese man dressed in the coat of a general, as well as a two fairly young Americans, which she gauged to be in their early 30s each. She stepped forward, briefly saluting Shirei. Her commander nodded, motioning his hand towards the American.
"Gentlemen, this is Detective Chun-Li," Commander Shirei stood up as Chun-Li stepped back. "Chun-Li, this is General Lee, the American envoy, Colonel Charlie Nash, and Chief Mechanic of the VG Project, Max Hunter."
Chun-Li smiled briefly at the two men. "Good to meet you."
"We'll begin by a quick debriefing of our current situation," General Lee began in a low voice, his brow furrowed as he stared at the three agents standing before him through half-lidded, yet unnervingly alert eyes, as Chun-Li abruptly noticed. The debriefing, she knew, was solely for her benefit, as the other two Americans -- the envoy and the Chief Mechanic -- would most certainly have been aware of almost every detail already. "The VG Project is a joint effort between the People's Republic of China and the United States to develop the ultimate war machine, the VanGuards, prototype humanoid combat vehicles with a one-man crew that are by far more powerful, faster and much more manoeuvreable than any existing fighting machine designs available today. Most of all, the VanGuards possess superior firepower and are crafted from a newly-discovered alloy, meteonite, sturdy enough to effectively shield them from most conventional weapons systems. Compared to the aircraft fighters of today, the VanGuards are to them what a pistol is to a bow and arrow. Even a single VanGuard unit in the wrong hands is enough to pose a serious threat to national security. That is what we are up against now."
General Lee cleared his throat. "At exactly 1156 hours, one of the two completed VanGuard units were hijacked by a rogue psycommu signal and activated itself. A VanGuard is invisible to normal radar scans, but with a built-in transmitter tracking device, we tailed the unit 23 degrees northeast, 56 kilometres off the Pacific coast before the signal disappeared. The unit could now be hidden anywhere among the outlying island clusters," General Lee tapped an index finger on a large map hung from the wall before him, pointing to small, gathered groups of islands scattered randomly approximately a hundred kilometres from the coast. "Yes, Detective Li?" he asked, noticing Chun-Li's loosely raised hand.
"I'd like to know the dimensions of a VanGuard, sir."
General Lee scratched his stubbly chin. "About 6 metres high, 1.5 metres across, weighting at 6 tonnes. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing, sir. But I wish to know more about how the machine was hijacked, sir."
General Lee grinned slightly. "Hunter?"
"Eh?" Max Hunter started, as if suddenly recovering from a daydream. "... yes, sir?"
The corners of Chun-Li's mouth tugged into a smile.
"We were discussing about the hijacking process of the VanGuard," Shirei said calmly, although Chun-Li could see that her commander, too, was doing his best to disguise a wry grin. "Perhaps you would care to elaborate on the incident, considering as how you were there to witness it first-hand."
"Oh yes... the VanGuard..." Max started, loosening his collar by tugging at it uneasily with an index finger. He took a deep breath. "The unit was hijacked by a rogue psycommu unit, sir. An individual infiltrated the VG Hangar earlier this morning, under the guise of Dr Tokai, and made off with the entire psycommu system. How the brain implant was embedded into a human so soon we have no idea, but we do know it was done, AND he or she or it successfully activated the VanGuard unit by remote psycommu."
"Psycommu?" Chun-Li queried.
"I'm afraid that information," the second American, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, his tone flat as he fixed Chun-Li with a half-taunting smile, "is classified, and available on a need-to-know basis only, Detective."
"Hey, I'm working on this case," Chun-Li raised an eyebrow. "I need to know."
"That's for the authorities to decide, Detective," Charlie drawled lazily, placing extra emphasis on the word 'Detective'. "You must understand, Miss Li... this is a top-secret government military project. We can't just go about sharing sensitive data with civilians, can we?"
Chun-Li narrowed her brow. "I'd watch myself if I were you, Colonel." She smiled. "It would do you well to be more polite when requesting assistance from others..."
"Before you think too highly of yourself and your abilities, Detective," Charlie cut her off abruptly, abandoning all pretense of his displeasure now, "you should know that the only reason I'm here is because superiors wanted me to, as opposed to my requesting assistance due to your 'outstanding skills' as you may be inclined to believe..."
"It is good to know that your superiors possess more insight to this matter than you do. Which is perhaps why..."
"That will be enough, Detective Li," Shirei interjected coldly.
"Yes, sir..." Chun-Li murmured softly, fixing Charlie with a final, defiant stare, noting the small smirk on his lips, before turning back to face her commander. "Is there anything else I should know, sir?"
"I believe there are two more things that you should be aware of," Shirei replied, his voice frosty. Hidden as his eyes were behind the dark blue lenses, the expression on his face was told everything, "one of them being the Ikazuchi."
"The Ikazuchi is a carrier ship built specifically for the purpose of transporting the VanGuard units over vast distances," said General Lee, "considering as how each VanGuard only has a mileage of 1500 kilometres on a full tank. The Ikazuchi is equipped with a servicing, repair and launch bay, as well as hypersonic drive engines. Considering its role as a carrier ship, the Ikazuchi is outfitted only with standard issue weapons systems in favour of greater speed and carrying capacity. It is comandeered by a four-man crew, though only the pilot was been chosen at the moment." General Lee paused, taking a short breath. "Further information is classified."
"I see..." Chun-Li mused as she chewed the information. "This means the Ikazuchi won't be an option in defeating the VanGuard in terms of power?"
"I'm afraid not, Detective..." General Lee replied.
"You said there were two things I needed to know," Chun-Li said. "The other one is?"
"Chief Mechanic Max Hunter and his crew managed to trace the source of the psycommu signal," this time it was Shirei who spoke. Chun-Li couldn't help noticing that Max was grinning to himself in a self-satisfied sort of way. "We arrested a man fifteen minutes later, in an apartment five blocks away from the NRC main building. The psycommu units, however, were not at the scene, and he has steadfastedly refused to co-operate."
"I'd like to meet the prisoner, sir," Chun-Li said. Shirei clicked his tongue.
"If you're wanting to speak to him, Detective, I'm afraid that you must be disappointed."
"Hm?" Chun-Li furrowed a delicate brow. "Don't tell me he's classified too?"
"Not in the very least, Detective. He's... dead."
"How?" Chun-Li asked.
"Suicide capsule, filled with cyanide and disguised as a molar tooth." Shirei smiled darkly. "He chose to die rather than betray his employers." Shirei paused, suddenly noticing Chun-Li's tense expression. "Is there anything, Detective?"
"Yes, sir. I think we know the mastermind behind this operation."
Shirei raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You seem to recognize that particular suicide method, Detective. So who do you think it is?"
"... its Shadowloo, sir."