Sacrifice.

The Hanged Man was laid softly unto the wooden table by slender, delicate fingers. To its left was a neatly placed deck of Tarot cards.

Surrender. Sacrifice. Beginnings.

The soft aroma of jasmine incense invaded the darkened room. The only light source came from nine white candles carefully placed around the only two furnishings inside the room, and with the exception of these and the person sitting at the table; the rest of the area was hidden from view.

Rose glanced at the colorful Tarot card again. A perfect fingernail traced the image of the living tree and then trailed to the poor soul that hung from it.

The clearness of a tear threatened to escape from one of the woman's violet eyes, but it vanished almost as soon as it came into existence. The death of one might have won the chance to live for others, and yet the cloud of evil only seemed to grow stronger.

Another card was lifted from the deck and placed parallel to the Hanged Man. It only brought sourness to the gypsy's mouth.

Chaos. Change. Downfall.

The Tower card brilliantly shone in the candlelight. Will Ming's sacrifice only bring yet another crisis? Would the lightning of corruption strike those that had been placed for good? Rose understood that, without a doubt, hard times were to come but not even she had been able to predict Ming's fate.

Rose stood up from the ritual, afraid to see more. Ming's demise was not supposed to happen. She had not foreseen such a disaster. It was as if alien, unseen forces had rewritten what she had believed to be the truth.

The gypsy exited the darkness through stone-embellished curtains and into a more normal living space, making her way to a cordless phone. The fight had to go on.

--

Elsewhere...

Long ago, during her first stint as a federal agent, Natalie had decided that - despite the work - the best work days were spent in the field, rather than at a desk; particularly the other side of Parker's desk while he admonished her for this or that. He was coming to the end of one such speech now...

"And that is the reason why you don't use federal vehicles in street races, Wyn."

Natalie, dressed in one of her new suits, simply slouched in the chair across from her superior and stretched both long legs out in front of her. "I was gathering info."

Kyle raised an eyebrow at her and steepled his fingers in front of him as he rested both elbows on his desk. "And what did you find?"

"Not much. The name 'Reno Tseng' came up a few times, with mentioning of some of the places he and that girl he hangs out with can be found when not at the Makai. Your call interrupted me after that." He need not know anything else.

Parker sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "That info is all but useless."

Wynshire grinned, "Yup."

"In any case, while you were burning government gasoline, some of our people were doing something useful..." he passed her a folder which she opened. He continued speaking as she scanned the contents. "Speaking of Mr. Tseng and his girlfriend, almost nothing is known of them beyond the past couple of years. As even you can see, whoever they were before then has been covered up, just well enough."

Natalie nodded, "So you think they're involved in some of the more dubious goings on behind the tournament?"

He nodded, lifting one brow at her again. "You've had your suspicions, I take it."

"Well, one must wonder why a couple of musicians would suddenly want to drop everything and compete in a fighting tournament. Also begs the question of how they got invited in the first place. Most of the other fighters are either well known street fighters or were competitors in the last tournament four years ago... with a couple of notable exceptions." She held up a picture and profile of a man by the name of Pablo Veracruz for him to see, followed by a picture of Ming Croft. She continued, "There was the recent drop-out of another musician, but Miss Cath was a student of Chun Li, so she had a background in martial arts."

"Rock stars, pop singers and archeologists, oh my." He rolled his eyes before continuing.. "I'm told we may have a stronger lead on Umbrella soon, even given the recent deaths..."

"Holden aside, I'm guessing the murders behind that bar and in that hotel aren't just coincidences. There's not much else along the lines of homicide in the area."

"One was an informant, the other is being investigated, but we did find a small connection between her and Holden Blake. But Agent Pierantoni is investigating another lead. What we need to do is find out what some of these fighters are really doing here, and that's your job."

Natalie began popping her knuckles, a bad habit of hers. "Well, there's Iwa, and she's our biggest lead on Bison, but everyone has her on their priority list. Vega is a known assassin, and I've already confirmed that he has info on most of the fighters, as I told you. And there are at least two other problems, but they aren't in the tournament itself."

Parker sighed and leaned back in his overstuffed leather chair. "There's also the question of who blew up the Shadowlaw facility. And whether or not they're on our side..."

"I doubt he is," Natalie replied. With an inward sigh, she pulled a photo from one of her pockets and handed it to her boss. "This man has been slinking around the tournament grounds. The name is Shing Tao, and he always wears a tux."

"The man in the surveillance footage was wearing a tuxedo..."

"Yep."

"Have you questioned him?"

"Not yet. I'm getting some really bad vibes from the guy."

Parker scoffed, "Geez, Wyn. Rely on your skills, not your weird-voodoo-psychic-aura stuff."

Natalie rolled her eyes, "It's called Chi or Ki. It's not-"

"I don't care. I want these people questioned. All of them."

Natalie huffed, "We can probably learn more by just snooping on them. What about my cover?"

He gazed hard at her, then sighed. "Fine. But if you don't turn up any new information by the end of the week, do it my way."

"With tranquilizer guns?"

"If you have to."

"... what about my Casul?"

"No."

Disappointed, Natalie sighed. "Fine."

As she stood to leave, Parker spoke up, "And Wynshire..."

She stopped but didn't turn. "Yes?"

"We better see some results soon. We can't afford to keep losing leads. More precisely, you can't afford it. Find out what's really going on in this big mess. That clear?"

A long pause, followed by a terse, "Yes, sir."

--

Umbrella Pacific Research Facility ~ somewhere off the coast of Oahu

Two men dressed in white lab coats stood facing a glass window, studying with some interest the figure on the other side.

"She has exceeded all expectations. Unfortunately, we believe that her time is coming to an end very soon" The first spoke, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was a short, chubby figure who seemed to have little interest on the neatness of his appearance; brown hair fell wildly around his round face.

The second man was quite a contrast. A few years older than the first, ebony hair was neatly slicked back by an unknown shiny substance. He stood almost six feet tall, and yet slouched his shoulders slightly, making him appear several inches shorter. His orderly attire knew no wrinkle, opposed to the ones that were beginning to tear around his eyes.

"Even though losing such a precious specimen is an incomparable loss to our research, I'm sure our efforts shall bring breakthrough results in the future. It is a shame, Davis, that none of the others survived the treatment." The second man spoke, as he idly scribbled indistinct words into his large notepad.

Davis took a step closer to the glass, his eyes squirming slightly at the light that came from within. With the turn of a knob, the light dimmed somewhat, transforming into colorful, almost playful rays.

"She likes that," Davis said flatly. Through the window he could see Eleonore, seemingly hypnotized by the rainbow of florescent lights that shone from the ceiling. Calmness irradiated from her, as her small hands followed several light streams of random colors.

"Did you see the newspaper today, Dr. Richardson?" Davis looked away from their specimen, following Richardson to a display of several monitor screens.

"I don't read the news. Keeps me sane."

"Right."

Richardson flipped several monitor screens on. "Most of the other children that went through Eleonore's treatment did not survive long enough to prove useful, Davis. Dr. Noiv was beginning to underestimate our hard earned discoveries. Eleonore was, as he put it, luck."

The older man paused, to adjust his lab coat and began flipping through some images on one of the monitors. "I refuse to allow our research be thrown down the drain. This is a lifetime's work, do you understand Davis?"

"Yes, sir. Of course." Davis tried in vain to scribble notes of each of the pictures Richardson was flicking through.

"We are hoping that success can be repeated on older, more stabilized specimens. As you know, Davis, one of our primary goals was to increase the children's psychic abilities. If we concentrate this on individuals that have already developed their abilities significantly, we can ignore the mind's assimilation process and focus on improving their skills."

"I must admit sir, I was quite skeptical about this whole psychic, mind control stuff until I saw that little one in action"

Richardson's lack of reaction to the younger man's statement did not go unnoticed on Davis. "So, when will we be receiving these new specimens?"

"Fairly soon, I believe. The lab is being prepared for their arrival." He paused the slide show to display a capture of one of Champion of Fists most recent matches. On the screen both scientists could see Victoria Millán unleashing a powerful chi attack on her opponent.

"It also depends on how far they make it on the tournament." Richardson continued. "The public wouldn't want the matches disrupted" He then glanced at his watch and dropped his notepad on a nearby desk.

"Lunchtime, Davis." The monitor screens flickered into darkness and both left the room.

--

Back at The Makai...

One glance in the lounge revealed that Reno was currently at the bar. Natalie took a seat at an empty table near the back of the room and ordered a drink and an appetizer. Soft music played, which made her briefly wish for something else to listen to. Watching Reno for a short while came to reveal nothing more than what drinks he preferred and that he had a tendency to curse the bartender if anything came out tasting like "horse piss." Cana was nowhere in sight. Natalie pulled her cell phone from the inside pocket of her jacket and dialed a number.

A few seconds later, a familiar voice answered. "Moshi moshi."

"Sakura, hey."

"Mien? Girl, where've you been? I've been trying to call you and stuff. Your guy keeps telling me you're catching up with some old acquaintances or something. But come on, make some time for new ones, too!" the Japanese fighter admonished in a joking tone.

Natalie smirked and sighed, "Right. Say, whatcha doing?"

"Oh, me and some of the girls are at this party on the beach. It's not bad, but you wouldn't believe how many guys are into girls that fight..."

The reply was tinged with the slightest southern drawl, "Ohh, I'd believe you. Trust me." Natalie's tone turned curious then, "So who's with you?"

There was the interruption of Sakura saying "excuse me!" several times and the rustling noise made when one is bumped into. Must be a crowded party, Natalie thought. Finally Sakura answered. "Well, Elena is here, Cana, Mika... and John was here but he left in a hurry."

Exactly what she needed to know. Natalie smiled, "You guy going to be there a while?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure..."

"Keep Miss Verdandi there. And call me as soon as she leaves."

There was a pause, "... is everything alright, Mien?"

"You can call me Natalie. And yeah, everything is fine. I just need you to do that, and not tell anyone. Can you?"

"Yeah, I can." Mien could tell by the tone of Sakura's voice that she was curious, though, and maybe a little unsure. Natalie believed she could trust the girl to keep her word, even though she'd befriended most of the female fighters in the tournament, and that included one of her targets.

"Great," Natalie said, continuing to watch Reno. "Thanks. Ja ne."

"Ja."

Natalie pressed the end call button just as a voice spoke from directly behind her. "Wow... you're dressed nice. Did somebody die?"

The agent smirked and replied without turning. "Not yet, but they might soon."

Fei Long was soon seated right across from her, dressed in one of many designer trainer sets. This one happened to be white, mostly, trimmed in grey stripes up the sides. The top was form-fitting enough to show off a lean, muscular ectomorph frame while the pants were looser, but still well tailored. And for once, with her black suit and light grey button-up beneath it, she was at least as well-dressed, maybe more so. Depended on the point of view.

The surprise still showed on his face. "So... " He tried to start the conversation, and wound up just gesturing to her outfit. The waitress showed up with the appetizer and Natalie's drink, and Fei ordered a drink for himself. That done, he turned back to his friend's fiancee with the same quizical look.

"Right. I get it, it's weird. Have you and Jin been training much?" She and Honda really needed to train more, they'd only gotten in a few hours in the past week. Maybe tomorrow, she thought.

"A little." Which meant at least a few hours. "But both of our schedules seem to be pretty busy lately, at least mine has. But speaking of, I haven't noticed you two hanging out as much. Usually you're attached to his side like a barnacle."

Her expression went flat. "Thanks for the lovely comparison. But yeah... I haven't been around much in the last few days."

"Did you guys have a fight? Not that it's my business..." Fei said as he took one of the sweet potato fries from her plate. She ignored him stealing her food, which meant that something was wrong. His look became a little concerned as he waited for her answer.

She sighed before giving it, "No, we didn't have a fight. I've just been so busy lately." She paused and then asked, "How good are you at keeping secrets?"

"Very, when it's important."

She chuckled softly and pulled her wallet out, sliding it across the table to him. Fei raised a brow at her, then picked it up and opened it. He stared for a moment, then closed it and handed it back. "Is that thing real or are you just pulling my leg?"

"It's real."

"Since when? I mean... you don't seem like-"

"Since before I met Jin. Then, I was... off duty, of sorts, until I came here."

As she began eating her fries, Fei leaned back in his seat. "Wow."

She eyed him, "Is it really that weird?"

"Yes," he said with a smirk.

"Good." She grinned and gave a slight nod towards the bar. "See that redhead?"

"Yeah..."

"Keep enough of an eye on him to notice when he leaves. When he does... give me a call."

He handed her his cell phone and she entered her number and name in his contact list. Meanwhile, he questioned, "You're younger than Jin, right? So how in the world did you get into your profession?"

"Long story. I'll tell you another time. Actually, Jin could tell you. I'm going to be rather busy..." Another sigh as she handed the phone back to him, then put hers on vibrate and slipped it back into her pocket.

"I see. Well, be careful and all." Spoken with a genuine tone, to which she nodded and smiled. Picking up a handful of the remaining fries, Natalie rose and pushed the plate toward him. "You can have the rest. I gotta run. Be sure you call me!"

As Fei Long watched her leave, he shook his head, eyeing the leftover sweet potato fries. For her to leave food behind, something is definitely not right...
 

***

With long, slender fingers now encased in leather gloves, Natalie slid the master key-card into the lock and opened the door. She entered the room of the two rock stars, revealing a spacious suite that held two beds, among the other furniture and personal belongings. So, Agent Wynshire thought, They aren't an item...

She began a quick search, having to take care to leave things as she found them once she was done with each area. Nothing but clothes, music stuff, and their instruments thus far. Nothing, until she checked the small refrigerator. Behind some leftover Chinese food, she found a brown paper bag that contained a small box. Within the box were two syringes filled with a thick, milky substance. It had the slightest blue tint to it, and no label to reveal the contents. She didn't recognize what it might be, so she took one syringe - placing it in her jacket pocket - and left the other. She was about to double-check the closet when she felt her phone vibrate and flipped it open to reveal the text message. Red's left the bar. She cursed under her breath and exited the room, beginning to walk down the hall just in time for the elevator doors to open and reveal a fairly tipsy rock star.

He smirked upon seeing her, speaking as she walked towards the elevator he was getting out of. "Hey babe, you doin' ok? I didn't hurt ya too bad... did I?" It was obvious that none of it was spoken out of anything resembling concern. Natalie offered a cool smile, walking right past him as she replied. "I'm doing rather well, thankyou."

He scoffed softly, not looking back as she entered the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. She didn't know how long it would take them to realize what was missing from their room, and it didn't matter. The lab should be able to tell her what was in the syringe, and that was exactly where she was heading now. She pulled her cell phone back out and entered a text message.

Thanks, just in time.

The reply came a moment later.

np. take care.
 

As Fei Long flipped his phone closed and pocketed it, he couldn't help but wonder just what an FBI agent - and it still surprised him that it would be Nat - was doing investigating a tournament participant...
 

--

Undisclosed residential area ~ Honolulu, around 9:55pm

Breaking in through the residence's back door had been extremely easy for Agent Pierantoni, after only about half a minute of picking the lock. Luckily, only one person by the name of Geoffrey Caldwell had shown up on record. From there, finding his current location was pretty straightforward.

He slowly made his way through the kitchen and into dining area with a tiny flashlight enclosed in his left hand.

Earlier that day Riq discovered Caldwell to be a Chemical Engineer, with a vast variety of efforts to his credit, including his recent Umbrella Pharmaceutical's validations contract. No wife, no living relatives, Caldwell only seemed to be known by those whom he had shared the same office space with.

After entering the dining area, Riq took a minute to fully survey the place. It seemed larger from outside, but it was still a fairly comfortable quarter. A small living room right across the dining room housed a staircase that lead to what seemed to be a small loft hidden by a closed door.

Focusing the flashlight on the dining room table, Riq saw a cluttered array of local newspapers, most very recent.

Easy victory for LUKE BLAZE! The headline was accompanied by a picture of Luke, victoriously holding a fist above his head. A quick glance at the date told Riq that the match had taken place the day before. Riq picked up the article with a hand gloved in black, and quickly scanned through it. Luke had effortlessly beaten Makoto - whereas Alex's match with Ryu had lead to a time-out draw - earning an overall win for his team.

He pulled up another page of the same newspaper. "Victoria won her match" Riq thought. Although he had wanted to, his job had not allowed him to see much of the tournament, let alone be there for his student's fights. He made a mental note to pat her on the back for a job well done.

His brow furrowed slightly, noticing the red marks around not only Victoria's name, but her partner Sean's as well. He dropped the paper on the table and quickly studied the rest. One side of the table was littered with Champion of Fists news, especially of all the matches. He noticed how the articles were arranged by date, emphasizing the order in which the battles had occurred. Glancing at the far left corner of the table, he followed the row of articles, observing matches that had taken place over a week prior, including his own. He took in some names that had been highlighted, recognizing some.

Pierantoni now centered the flashlight on the other side of the wooden surface; he recognized the piece on Fallon's murder behind the bar, as well as Holden's and the other murder at the Ka'anapali Shores hotel. Red and yellow highlighter marks scattered through each of the news articles, only making Umbrella's connection with all these events more obvious than what it already was.

"Don't move." The low, shaky voice came from Pierantoni's right. He was a tall, skinny man, reading glasses perched on his nose. The rickety movement of his eyes above the glasses, and the trembling hands that held the gun, were prove enough for Pierantoni that this man was almost no threat at all. He looked as he should be holding a book, rather than a weapon.

"Caldwell? Geoffrey Caldwell?" Enrique questioned, turning slightly to the right to face the other man and taking a careful step forward.

"I said don't move! I'll shoot!"

"I'm Agent Pierantoni. FBI." He took another step forward, stopping when Caldwell tensed the grip on his gun. "I'm going to reach into my back pocket, show you my badge."

"I can't see it"

Riq exhaled, slightly annoyed and aimed his flashlight at his badge.

Geoffrey directed his gaze to the badge. Satisfied, he spoke. "What do you want?"

"I need to ask you a few questions about your dealings with Umbrella. You seem to have an obvious interest in them." Riq made a gesture to the display of newspapers on the table.

Caldwell hesitated, then after a few seconds of ponder spoke. "Alright." He lowered the gun aimed at Riq and hid it underneath the back of his blue polo shirt. "Follow me." Riq turned to take a last look at the table then followed Geoffrey up the stairs.

--

Outside 'Ulu Bistro Restaurant ~ Honolulu

Cammy White peered through small binoculars into the large glass window of the 'Ulu Bistro Restaurant. Almost hidden from view, sat her target speaking with a man whom she recognized as a tournament participant.

"Got the bloke's profile up" Cammy moved away from the van's window and directed her attention to Ginzu, who had been typing away on a laptop for the past uncounted minutes.

"Huh, Pablo Veracruz," Cammy spoke as she peered over Ginzu's shoulder. "'Nother Shadaloo freelancer, eh? Up to no good obviously, but the spiv's openly a tournament participant. Looks like they're about to take off."

Ginzu continued typing. "I'll set up the satellite to trace Juli again. Can you explain again how Juli got a GPS tracking chip in her bloodstream again?"

"Sorry luv, we couldn't trace the anonymous call. It was lead and we risked following it"

--

Elsewhere...

"How much do you know of Umbrella, Mr. Pierantoni?" Geoffrey asked as he opened the door of a small study room.

"More than I want to know." Came the reply, as the FBI agent followed Caldwell inside.

Geoffrey chuckled grimly as his edgy fingers fidgeted on a filer keyhole. After several seconds of struggle, he began to nose through the file cabinet.

"They want me dead, you know? Just like Holden. He... they... knew too much"

"What was your relationship with Holden?" Riq noticed the sweat growing on Caldwell's brow in the obviously chilly room.

"There wasn't one... really, other than those few meetings. Umbrella hired me to supervise the machinery control flow for one of their new facilities, here in Oahu. It was a confidential project. Holden was there to pretty much cover up why Umbrella had acquired a seemingly useless island..."

"Island?" Riq interrupted Caldwell's jumpy rant.

"Y-yes." He finally pulled out a large, folded document and spread it on a small round table.

Pierantoni moved closer to the table and eyed what was obviously a blueprint of some sort of production facility.

"What were the machines for?" Riq asked, lifting his gaze to look at Geoffrey in the eyes.

"I-I don't know. I only supervised control flow... simulations so to speak. I wasn't cleared to physically analyze the equipment. And there's more..."

Caldwell pulled out several other similar plans as well as a map of the Oahu coast line. "These are all blueprints of different process areas of the island... it is located here, about 25 miles southwest of Oahu." He said, pointing to a specific spot on the map.

"I also have softcopy versions of them..." Geoffrey mused, sounding oddly proud of his accomplishment, and lifting the thumb drive he carried around his neck.

"These documents obviously weren't handed to you. Why do you have them?"

"Pharmaceutical rivals would have paid good money to put their hands on them. I didn't think it was going to get this out of hand. I've got no use for all of this now. Here..."

Caldwell pulled the thumb drive free from the chain that held it around his neck and tossed it in Riq's direction. "There's a copy of everything I've showed you in it"

"How do I know you're saying the truth?"

A small smirk formed on Caldwell's lips. He moved the mouse of his snoozing desktop computer and motioned his hand towards it. "You're more than welcomed to check, but I reckon you have less than two minutes to do so."

The screen saver on the monitor dissipated to reveal a programmed countdown, and, as Geoffrey had indicated, it was down to 90 seconds.

It only took an instant for Riq to take in what the decreasing seconds meant.

"It is of no significance to me whether you get out or not, but I plan on the destroying this house and every last bit of evidence in it."

"Caldwell, you don't have to..." The blast of a handgun interrupted Pierantoni, as Caldwell's limp body fell to the floor after he had swiftly retrieved his weapon to take his own life.

Pierantoni cursed audibly, and instinct quickly made him to burst out of the study, into the dining room and once again out the back door. The blast quickly followed, forcing him unto the grass, arms protecting his head.

The stench of smoke made its way into Riq's nostrils, and the heat was not missed on his back as he slowly got up and glanced at the thumb drive in his hand, hoping that Caldwell had been in fact telling the truth.