"After two weeks of intense, exciting -- and even, in some cases, controversial -- action," the sports personality, Nicholas Layfield, was saying. "We now approach the final series of matches of the Champion of Fists Group Stage, all set to take place over the course of today."

"That's right Nick," another sports personality pipes in. "It all counts here, since once the dust settles, and all the blood, sweat and tears are shed...the top 4 teams of each Group will earn the right to qualify and move on to the next Stage. Now let's recap on what the teams have gone through to get to this point..."
 

-Café, the Makai, 11:12AM-

Victoria didn't look it, but inside she felt like a complete mess. Cautiously, she takes a sip of the still-too-hot cup of coffee as fragments of the night before flickered into her subconscious. Her mind shifts from one section to the next, and Victoria recounts them as they appear with a growing level of amusement at each one. Went out to The Lani with Meliza and Karin of all people... flirted with some guy... the lightweight Karin was sick... left for another club... flirted with an even hotter guy... had too many Martini's... harassed Mel about still not meeting her guy yet... Anything beyond that was a blank, as far as her mind was concerned, so Millan decided to settle on that last point some more.

For all of Meliza's chatter about her boyfriend, she was yet to introduce him to her still. At least she had got to meet Riq over a week ago, even though Victoria hadn't really given her a choice at the time. Not that her even meeting Riq was a big deal...but it was still a matter of principle, she mused. Karin hadn't been much help on the subject either, she recalled grimly. When asked if he was hot or not, the Kanzuki heiress had curtly replied, "I suppose so, if you like peasant boys…" By "peasant" in her case meaning someone who didn't exude wealth and that playboy sort of charm Karin seemed to find amusing.

Victoria chuckled softly and shook her head, then instantly regrets it due to the small wave of pain it sends through her skull. With one hand on her aching temple, the Hispanic woman wallows in her muddled memories and bland misery for a few minutes before she took note of a pair of khaki-clad legs coming into her downcast view.

A glance up makes her straighten instantly, almost tipping her coffee over. She rights the cup and offers a half forced smile in greeting. "Riq! Hey..."

Pierantoni casts a critical glance at the cup of coffee on Victoria's table. He too, as Victoria expected, had a cup of coffee in his hand, except he had taken his order to go.

"Rough night?" he questions. "Club-hopping, I presume?"

"Yeah, something like that," Enid replies.

"I see," he says. A pause, then, "So what time's your match today?"

With a breathless gasp, Victoria's eyes suddenly widen in realisation. She was scheduled for a match today, and she'd completely forgot! "Uh…" she starts, already beginning to cringe slightly in anticipation of the backlash. You mean you went out clubbing when you had an important match the next day?! her mind already envisions Riq sternly telling her, immediately followed up with a scolding on how she "always got distracted" and "lacked focus, except when shopping and reading pointless fashion magazines". Dammit, the last thing she was prepared for was a match...

"You...didn't forget that you had a match today, did you?" Riq says.

Victoria can only nod meekly in response.

"Oh, I see," he responds calmly. "Well, best of luck then." A ghost of a smile appears upon Pierantoni's face as he quickly adds, before leaving, "I hear Reno and his partner are pretty formidable opponents…"

Victoria watches him go with a slight look of confusion, having expected him to have at least criticised or poked fun at her carelessness. Then she recalls what he said…

Wait a minute...did he say "Reno"? But-

Enid cuts off her thoughts in realisation as seemingly forgotten memories of yesterday's events suddenly surge to the forefront of her mind. She was scheduled for a match today, against Reno and his partner Hugo, but with the former having been reported as missing for 8 days now, the tournament Committee, in an attempt to compromise the fixtures, had been forced to disband the team and automatically award the full points to any teams later scheduled to face that team. 'That's one of the reasons why I went out the night before, because I didn't have to fight in my last match the next day,' Victoria recounts.

How drunk had she been last night to forget something like that?!

Naturally, Millan doesn't answer her own question but instead indulges in a large gulp of coffee instead. At least, she noted with some inward glee, Riq hadn't chastised her about last night...although there was no way he was getting off teasing her like that as far as she was concerned. She briefly thinks back to when she met her would-be opponent, Reno, for the first -- and, in fact, the last -- time at the hotel restaurant, and the overall weird vibe he seemed to reverberate then. I wonder if Kay's alright where he is...is her last thought on the subject before more pleasant ones rise up to replace it. With nothing else for Victoria to do for the day, the options were plentiful, whether it would be a simple shopping spree, relaxing by the poolside, or even another night out of clubbing...
 

-Private suite, the Makai-

With a pink sleepmask over her eyes, Karin's face contorts into a frown as she groans in protest, trying to claim more time of sleep. After tossing back and forth several times Kanzuki finally sits upright, pushing the sleepmask up onto her forehead to reveal bleary, half-lidded eyes. Instantly, the memories of the night before rush to the forefront of Karin's thoughts, yet unlike Victoria, she merely dismisses them rather than recount the experience, her mind somewhat focused elsewhere.

'It must still be early, if I woke up before the alarm went off…' she thinks. Even though Meliza had somehow convinced her to spend the night out with her and her friend Victoria - she'd vaguely recognised her from somewhere, yet couldn't put her finger on it - Karin hadn't stayed for long, not wanting to jeopardise her match the next day. Considering how early she was up, there were still plenty of hours until it took place, she figured. In fact, what time was it? With that, the Kanzuki heiress reaches over to the side of the bed, to where the bedside table is, and where her trusty digital alarm clock lies...

…except that said alarm clock isn't there, but on the floor instead, and broken.

A wave of fear runs through Karin as her eyes widen in shock. What time was it? Had she overslept? Did that mean she missed her match?! Quickly, she scrambles for the remote and turns the TV on, where a sports channel blinks into view. At the bottom of the screen it reads 11:45AM, much to Karin's dismay.

"With a strong showing throughout this Stage up to this point," the commentator begins. "Jin Kushina and Fei Long earn this victory without even having to lift a finger, as Karin's unexplained absence has forced her team to forfeit this match."

Karin can only blink in disbelief as she looks back at her defunct alarm clock, wondering to herself what could've happened.

"As it stands, this victory puts Jin and Fei in the second qualifying spot in Group B," the commentator continues, just as a table of team rankings shows up on-screen. "Of course, that position can easily change by the end of today. A win for Karin and Guile would've increased their qualifying chances, but it's very likely that their chances are now-"

Pressing her thumb down firmly on the remote button, Karin hurls it onto the bed, a mix of disappointment and anger boiling within her with each passing second. How the hell had she, Karin Kanzuki, ended up in this situation?! There was no way she deserved this, not at all! And where was Shibazaki during this time?! It's that thought which then drives her to retrieve her cellphone from the bedside table, where she punches in several numbers furiously.

"Miss Ka-"

"SHIBAZAKI HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!" Karin screams.

"M-Miss Karin, I don't understand," the steward responds, his voice evident with confusion. It does nothing to settle Karin's mood however.

"How could you let me oversleep and miss an important match?!" Karin yells with a somewhat lower tone of voice. She had hoped to get far in this tournament, and bring pride to the Kanzuki name. The shame this could bring to the Zaibatsu, if it ever got out...she couldn't bear thinking about it.

"I'm sorry Miss Karin," Shibazaki says. "But last night you specifically requested that I, or anyone else, not disturb you the next day until you made a request."

What?! is all Karin thinks. Had she really said something like that?! But then Shibazaki was never the kind of person to ever lie to her, she realises grimly. Yet he could've still done something, somehow...or maybe if she hadn't listened to Meliza in the first place, this might not have happened.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Karin?" the steward asks.

"I don't want the media on my case from all this, so do what you must," Karin commands. "Give them a story if you have to."

"Anything else, Miss Karin?"

Kanzuki takes the time to look at herself in the mirror, and after making a poignant face for a few seconds, answers, "I also want my make-up artist here within the next 20 minutes!"
 

-FBI Honolulu, 11:58AM-

I hate labs... Natalie's mind idled as she stepped into the sterile environment of the laboratory in the same building that she had seen entirely too much of in recent weeks. The FBI Headquarters in Honolulu was farther from her beat than she liked, and the same went for other agents working the Umbrella case, but the commute couldn't be helped short of a more localized base. Which, apparently, was asking for too much. The filtered and recycled air within this part of the building always made the inside of her nose burn a little. Agent Wynshire was never entirely sure why it did that, yet it didn't help her uneasiness at all. Directly after her official "recruitment" some years back, Natalie had spent a lot of involuntary time in rooms like this, and at best it had been boring or mildly disturbing. At worst, well...

She just didn't much like labs.

Bent over a microscope between stacks of what she was fond of calling his "petri-dish pets" was Eddie, the person responsible for calling her here. "You said you had something on that vial."

Eddie turned quickly as he turned from his microscope. "Wyn! Yeah. There's a good reason it didn't match any poison or viruses..."

Natalie raised one slender brow at him, "And that is?"

Adjusting his glasses, the young man gestured to the microscope, and Natalie approached after a slight hesitation and looked at the substance beneath. "We were able to break down the solution and found that it was an extremely advanced concoction of genetic materials both commonly found in human DNA and some less frequently found anomalies."

The field agent pulled away from the microscope, having no clue what she was supposed to be so amazed at. "And that means..?"

Eddie blinked at her as if it should be obvious, then continued. "Well, it's not something that's supposed to kill anyone. It's to keep something alive. Best we can figure, at least. It's the bridge, the material required to reconstruct damaged or missing chromosomes."

Blue eyes widened, "...have scientists tapped into that kinda thing before?"

Eddie gave an uneasy shrug. "Not openly and not legally. I've never seen anything like it. Who'd you get this from again?"

A heavy sigh passed through her lips. "From someone who's probably dead by now. The two tournament participants, Tseng and Verdandi. I took it from their room." Now, she felt the slightest bit of remorse for it, knowing that it was required for one of them to live. Or both?

"Eddie, there were two of these... I only took one. Are they permanent?" He understood her implication immediately and shook his head. "No, these materials break down over time when not bonded into the genetic structure, which as far as we know is still impossible to do at the adult stage. Only one of them was taking the injections, if two was all you found. Can you get a hold of the other one?"

Natalie's lips pursed as she shook her head, tossing chocolate bangs. "No. I went back after they'd missed two matches and found the room had been cleaned out." And right out from under her nose, practically. Shadowlaw, it turned out, was better at 'housekeeping' than even the United States government. She started to turn, but the additional words from the lab technician stopped her, "Oh, and Wynshire. Just so you know... we found some interesting information."

Natalie took the folder he passed to her and opened it, scanning the photo and information within. "Kay Lee... wow, he looks just like..." Her eyes widened as she looked up in time for Eddie to nod and confirm.

"There's no way for us to be sure, since we can't track down Mr. Lee, and Tseng has gone missing. But the serum you found is exactly what might be required for a less-than-successful clone to maintain life."

A sharp curse was hissed by the agent who handed him the folder and put a hand to her forehead. "If Bison did clone anyone from the last tournament, and that was four years ago, then what the hell is he capable of now?" she wondered aloud. The tech could only offer a shrug and a sigh.

"Umbrella on one side doing God-knows-what... Bison on the other... This just keeps getting better." She scowled and spun on the last word, calling out as she left. "Thanks, Eddie."

His "don't mention it" was cut off by the door slamming.
 

-COF Arena: North, 12:30PM-

"What the hell you mean, 'You give up?'" Sakura yells at her scheduled opponent, blinking with evident surprise. "You can't just throw the match away like that?!"

"I'm sorry chica," Pablo responds with a smooth, deliberate tone of voice, his hands shovelled into his trouser pockets. "But I just cannot hit a woman, ever." He shrugs. "Just the way I am."

Sakura stares at him blankly, before frowning. "That's a damn lie. I remember your first match against that girl, Victoria. You seemed fine hitting her, so what makes me different?" she retorts.

Veracruz bears a calm, chilling smile, as if amused by Sakura's anger, which seems to irritate the adolescent further. "Shouldn't you be happy? After all, gaining a victory against me isn't exactly an easy feat." He bursts into a light chuckle to himself afterwards and turns to leave the stadium just as quickly, leaving Sakura to watch on helplessly as the announcer proclaims Pablo's decision to forfeit the match, much to the disapproval of the stadium crowd.
 

-FBI Honolulu, 12:35PM-

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Kyle Parker nodded and gestured to the chair before his desk as his least favorite field agent walked in, looking as if she should be jingling with all the steel accessories to her typical outfit. He lifted a brow at the lack of more appropriate dress, but decided not to say anything, this time.

"Right. You're aware of who your opponent for tonight is, are you not?"

She nodded and sat down, legs sprawled comfortably in her familiar slouch, "Vega. He'll be tough." Of course, that depended on whether they would even turn up, since him and Iwa Hoshi, for some reason, had developed a reputation of not turning up for certain matches, yet never losing the matches they did fight in. Maybe she and Honda could be the team to sever that trend, if their teams fought today.

"He needs to be more than tough."

Natalie raised a brow and waited for him to continue, which he did after flipping through a folder briefly. She expected him to show her something, but it didn't happen. "We need you to do a bit of investigating from the inside of the infirmary."

Both slender brows rose at that. She did not like where this was going. "Umbrella has so 'generously' offered their own people as the medical staff in this thing. We think they have ulterior motives for that, naturally, yet we have no proof. You're going to get us that."

Natalie opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Kyle's raised hand. "So you have to take a real beating this time... and not do whatever it is that makes for those miraculous recoveries of yours. At the same time... we need this Vega idiot to be out of commission for a short while at least."

One brow lowered again. "So... you want him to beat me down and me somehow beat him? I don't think it'd be that hard to get my ass handed to me, he's known for his sadism. Why don't I just lose?"

"As I said, he needs to go down. Why is not your concern at this point, we have other people on that." His nonchalant tone irritated her, yet she said nothing and nodded with a sigh. Assuming she was done, she leaned forward as if to stand, but was again stopped by his gesture.

"After tonight... you'll throw your next fight."

Natalie blinked at her superior, once, twice, and a third time before speaking. "Excuse me, but didn't you berate me for holding back in previous fights?"

Parker steeples his fingers before him as he leaned back in his leather chair. "Wyn, this silly tournament is taking too much of your time. We need you more in the field, and after this stage, many of the fighters may not be hanging around much longer, and that's if they survive." At least three people came to her mind, causing Wynshire to wince as he went on. "You need to be using all of your time to complete your investigations in the meantime."

Another sigh, another nod, and this time Natalie rose without any protest from her boss. "Fine. I'll do what I can."

"You'll do what we ask. Let's not forget what hangs in the balance if you don't perform up to standard." Though she'd turned, she could hear the slightest smirk in his tone. The reminder was unnecessary, which Parker knew, yet he still took pleasure in the tension in her shoulders as she stalked out, wordlessly.
 

-The Makai, 2:47PM-

He stands near the edge of the hotel's rooftop, overlooking the city's streets and the wave of people walking up down the city's pavements, going about their normal, everyday lives. For a moment, John Heagy almost envies them, but he then finds himself quickly dismissing the notion. Still, his mind has been a realm of troubles for the SABRE operative as of late, even more than he was used to.

Unlike most of everyone else, he and Elena weren't obligated to fight in any matches today, yet would be awarded a default win in accordance with the rather impromptu rules the COF Committee had issued concerning the matter. Whether that would be enough to ultimately have his team qualify to the next Stage was another matter. Not qualifying wouldn't matter to him, though, considering how part of his mission was just to enter the Champion of Fists as a cover, and not necessarily try and win the tournament. At least if their team didn't qualify, he wouldn't have to deal with Elena and her...he quickly shakes his head to prevent the mental image from fully developing itself onto his thoughts.

The two attempts on his life -- the first, in a street alleyway; the second, during his first match in the tournament -- mentally gnaws at him. Things has been pretty quiet since then, yet Heagy can't help but wonder if his pursuer was simply out there watching him, waiting for a moment in time where they'd let their guard down before striking again. Were the likes of Umbrella onto him, and thus were making moves in response?

Then there was Iwa. That alone is troubling enough, he muses silently.

"Never expected to find you here…" a voice says from behind him suddenly, cutting off his thoughts. "The pervert," it adds, followed by a light chuckle.

John whirls around sharply, eyes widening at whom the person behind the voice turns out to be. "You…" he breathed. Of all the people...

"Long time no see, little Heagy," Iwa responds coolly as a passing breeze sways her ebony jacket, as well as several strands of her hair, to one side. Standing on her left shoulder with arms crossed, is the squirrel Maru and pinned to her jacket, Heagy notices, is a silver brooch crafted with the symbol of a winged-skull bearing an 'S'-shaped lightning bolt etched in between the eyes on its forehead.

"That's…" he trails off, recognising the insignia and its implications immediately with a growing dread. "So you're really dealing with them…" It had been futile to think otherwise, he knew, but he had been willing to hear her side of the story despite what his superiors wanted done. That is, if Iwa herself was willing to tell him. There was no harm in trying, so he does. "But why? This isn't like you."

"Oh, you mean this?" Iwa surmises, pointing at the brooch nonchalantly and staring at it. "Just something I had made recently." She turns back to John. "A shame I can't walk around with it openly all the time, but I'm sure you can understand why that is. Besides, I don't think The Master would be too pleased, having attention drawn to him like that…"

"The Master? Do you mean M. Bison?" John questions. Instinctively, the tips of his fingers graze lightly over where "Dawn", his concealed Beretta M9 lies. Even if he viewed her as a friend, Iwa was still a potential threat as long as her suspected connections to the crime organisation known as Shadowlaw existed. That meant he would be pressed to do whatever was necessary to immobilise said threat.

"Do you intend to stop me right here, little Heagy?" Iwa points out, having already picked up on John's intentions. She holds back a smile at his reaction to the term "little", which she then extends to any form of emotion as John, in a smooth motion, brandishes his weapon and points it directly at her, silencer already equipped.

"I don't know what your purpose is here, but if you are indeed a threat, then I'll have no choice," Heagy warns. I'm still giving you a chance, Iwa,' he thinks. 'I don't believe you're really an enemy, but…

Though John had drawn his weapon at her, he hadn't cocked it yet, Iwa notes to herself. Hoshi slowly lifts up one arm and brushes back her jacket sleeve to reveal a watch that she glances at. "I have a match to attend in a few hours," she replies. "So I can't afford to be preoccupied with you this time." She lets her arm drop. "Maybe we'll chat some more next time."

"We're not done," John asserts, unwilling to let her just walk away from him like this. "You didn't answer my question earlier: Who-"

The word barely leaves John's lips as an object breezes through the air directly at his face, aiming right between the eyes. Heagy manages to dodge the thrown acorn in time, but he unwittingly veers his aim away from his target slightly in the process, which is enough of an opening for Iwa to take advantage of. In one motion she closes in on Heagy, one hand snaking out to clutch his wrist and push the hand holding his weapon upwards, away from her. "Don't get in my way…" she says as she kicks him in the abdomen with enough force to send him off the roof. "I don't wish to hurt you," Hoshi adds, unconcerned about whether or not John hears it as he falls down out of view.

A wave of adrenaline races through John's body as he falls down the side of the hotel building. There is no alleyway dumpster to protect him from serious injury this time, but, much to his relief, one of the hotel room balconies several rooms below. With lightning quick reflexes, he grabs the metal railing with one hand and pulls himself over and onto the concrete in an impressive display of arm strength, placing Dawn back to where he'd retrieved it earlier. Did he hear right as he was falling? Had Iwa said that she didn't wish to hurt him? While he didn't know entirely what that could mean, a part of him cannot help but think towards the positive. Maybe there's still a chance, afterall...

Iwa watches from above as John pushes the glass door to the side, walking into the room and out of view. "Good job, Maru," she says, knowing that the squirrel's distraction had been paramount to her being able to close down on him like that. After running her fingers across the brooch briefly, Hoshi suddenly leaps off from the roof to the alleyway below, running off into the nearby streets.
 

-COF Arena, 3:47PM-

"DASH!"

Oh shi- is Luke Blaze's thought as Aaron Volpe's shoulder collides with his chest with a resounding crack. As if in slow motion, his body helplessly pivots backward whilst a trail of blood spurts out of his mouth. Amidst the pain he hears his partner, Alex, scream out something, but he can't catch it fully. Watch...out…?

Volpe flashes a wide grin as he pauses slightly and delivers a powerful standing kick to his opponent's gut. He watches Luke's body, as it flies upwards for no more than a second, before using the momentum of his swinging leg to spin into the air. Completely unfinished, the Italian let gravity drag him back down as he draws one fist back and pistons it forward to strike Blaze squarely in the face as the American crashes into the ground. Luke is able to slowly rise to his feet in time, his chest now heaving and blood trickling from a violent gash in his left temple.

"And so our tale continues, sirrah!" Volpe exclaims. The grin he wore before seems to grow wider as he drops into his stance.

"Indeed it does," Luke responds, matching his grin with Volpe's. "After all, I'm not the type to lose so easily!" Over the course of this match, Luke had learned that Volpe was the same, able to absorb a major amount of damage yet remain resilient enough to return the favour. Yet all people, no matter how strong, still had their limits, he concludes. He just had to find Volpe's...

"Aye, I've noticed," the Italian says. "Now, let's have some fun, sirrah!"

And so they continued their tale, er, battle, crashing into a rapid blend of various hand and leg strikes, both failing to find any purchase yet unwilling to relent their assault at the same time. After attempting a final kick to Volpe's midsection whilst blocking his right hook, Luke somersaults backward to clear space between them. The moment his feet touch the ground he immediately throws himself forward, one leg outstretched in his Thrust Kick technique. To his surprise, however, rather than seeing a standing Volpe as he'd expected, he instead sees Volpe flying towards him, heel first in his own technique, aptly titled "Boot To The Head".

"WHAAAAAHOOO!"

"YARRGHH!"

Both fighters brace themselves for the inevitable collision, which happens in a dramatic, impressive display. Like before, time seems to slow down as Volpe's heel sinks into Luke's cheek, while Blaze empties his foot onto Aaron's solar plexus, before the momentum of impact forces them apart in opposite directions. They land seconds after, skidding and rolling over to their stomachs as the crowd drops into a stunned silence, awaiting the outcome.

"Get up, kid!" Alex yells encouragingly. As the words leave his mouth, a part of him wonders if Luke is even conscious. He had taken some critical hits during the match, afterall. "Don't tell me you're all burnt out?!"

To Blaze's credit, his willpower serves to drive him back up on his feet, just as the referee and the audience reaches the count of five. Aaron Volpe, unfortunately, is not as quick to make it to his feet in time, only managing to rise onto one knee.

"KO! The winner of Round 2 is...Luke Blaze! The winners of this match are the team of Alex and Luke Blaze!"

In expected fashion, the crowd bursts into a loud cheer at the result.
 

-Room 105, the Makai, 5:13PM-

"Jin?" Natalie calls out as soon as she steps inside the room. The only response she gets is from Freckle, who purrs affectionately upon seeing his owner. He's not here, as I thought, Natalie confirms to herself before she stoops down to scratch behind the ears of the attention-seeking feline. A quick look at her phone tells the Federal agent she now has around a half-hour until her scheduled match, so she goes for a quick shower, making sure to bring with her a new selection of clothes as she walks into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes pass until Natalie steps back out, fully changed, dressed and ready. She can't help but take a last look at herself though, just to make sure she doesn't miss anything. The outfit was a straightforward one: Covering her lithe frame is a black tank top, gathered in places due to the leather strips running vertically up the sides, with a pair of plain, thick black pants that were tailored to allow for a more streamline look, yet giving enough to allow plenty of room for movement. Completing this and in like color, are her heavy Wellco combat boots and her fingerless gloves, showing off long, glossy and surprisingly strong fingernails. To protect her against the likelihood of Vega using his claw, a pair of steel gauntlets are wrapped around Natalie's forearms, which completes the ensemble.

At the sound of Freckle's sudden purring, Natalie turns around in time to see the cat poking curiously at a sheet of paper lying on the floor next to the beside table. Natalie is about to ignore him, until noticing on the sheet what appears to be handwriting. Jin's handwriting, she realises. Retrieving the paper away from Freckle's claws, turquoise eyes scan across the written message held in front of her.

Nat,

Easy victory this time, in case you haven't caught the news updates. Gone out chilling with Fei for the day. Good luck in your match, we'll be watching. And yes, I did feed the pets this time.

Jin.

Natalie lets out a small smirk at the last comment, recalling a not-so-long-ago memory of the near-chaos she'd come home to due to Jin forgetting to feed the animals despite having told him in writing. She takes a second look at her phone, which now displays the time of 5:34PM back at her. Only 11 minutes left, she had to hurry.

As Freckle rubs his head against her leg, Natalie neatly picks him up and hold him out in front of her. "Mummy's got a match, wish me luck 'kay?" she says. Naturally, Freckle doesn't do much in response, and so Natalie lets him leap out of her hands back to the ground. Parker's words to her earlier, the task set out for her to perform, and the match at hand are all that reverberates in Wynshire's thoughts now as she leaves the room. Walking down the hallway, she pays little mind to the person who strolls past her and turns around the corner. Had she done so, she may have in fact recognised someone familiar...
 

-*-
 

Standing outside the door to the hotel guest room, Locke Koh procures a pair of leather gloves from his trouser pocket and slips them on. Although the hallway and rooms were virtually empty due to many of the fighters scheduled for matches today, Locke had still decided to take precautions. To the casual observer, with his white button-up shirt, black trousers, and equally dark blazer, Koh appears to be nothing more than hotel staff security, affectionately known to the Makai employees as Meliza's Secret Service. With such an influx of different fighting styles, egos and attitudes, it made sense to employ such measures to make sure things were kept in order. The entire outfit is Locke own, apart from the plastic, transparent earpiece nestled in his left ear to further look the part. Despite all this, the need to be swift with what he was doing presses down firmly into his mind, for there was always the unfortunate possibility of encountering an actual member of staff security who routinely patrolled these floors.

Locke then reaches into the other pocket to retrieve his master key-card and slides it into the lock, opening the door into Charlie's room and closing the door behind him. Koh's eyes sweep around the room, where they eventually rest on a table to his right and on the laptop on top of it. While it was open, the device otherwise appears to be switched off. Convenient, Locke thinks to himself. All he had to do was place the thumb drive by the laptop, and hopefully Charlie's natural curiosity would take care of the rest.

With the combination of Ming's death and the disappearances of Reno and Cana - he suspected they were dead as well, despite the official announcement by the authorities - the hotel had been tight with Federal activity over the past week, effectively halting his plans in accomplishing this task much earlier as intended. As long as he had that thing, he didn't feel at ease. Not necessarily with himself, but at the possible danger he could bring to Meliza and the hotel if it was ever discovered he possessed such incriminating information. At least now he could pass the problem onto someone else and take the weight off his shoulders, if only a little.

After taking out an unsealed envelope from inside his blazer, where the thumb drive is already placed inside and placing it next to the laptop -- he had made sure to clear off any prints from the thumb drive and envelope, of course -- Locke Koh promptly leaves the room as if he had never been there.
 

-COF Arena, 6:00PM-

Mien waits patiently while the judges take their customary break to write on their little clipboards between matches and confer with each other. Across from her, under the glow of the stadium lights, Vega seems to be sucking up as much of the fanfare as humanly possibly, strutting around with his mask off and a suave smile for all the ladies. Possibly for a few of the men... but one could only guess. A few red roses are thrown at the Spanish ninja, along with a few more personal items that only make Natalie roll her eyes in disgust. If only all those fans knew what the sadist was like beneath the pretty hair and too-perfect face. Not to mention his questionable personal tastes... she muses with a glance outside the designated fighting area, to where her partner sits.

Though winded and still recovering, Honda was overall little worse for wear. The sumo was nothing if not tougher than nails. It was that stamina combined with his massive strength that had the last match end in a time-out draw, which the judges had yet to decide upon. Iwa, with her speed and hit-and-run tactics, had been the one to land the most hits. However, the few Edmund had managed to get in were devastating, and Natalie hadn't been able to help wincing herself at some of them.

It would have been ironic if she'd fought the woman instead, yet as things were, she was left with the true psycho of the team. Wonderful... she thinks. Though fighting Iwa would have been anything but easy, she doesn't much like the look of the claws adorning Vega's right hand, even blunted as the tips were. He may be unable to penetrate with any stabs, but Natalie knows fully how much blood loss could be inflicted by the razor-sharp blades that were allowed to remain. Thus far, none of his opponents had completely escaped them, which is one reason why the man was so hard to beat. She does, however, contemplate her one true advantage: he had no chi-based attacks unlike many others... and therefore his resistance to said attacks might be somewhat lacking.

Further thoughts are cut short by the announcement over the stadium's loud speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, in light of the last match's draw, the judges have elected to award the full three points to the winner of this match." Natalie sighs. The stakes were upped and the crowd goes wild with mindless amusement, yet neither matter to her. What does matter -- as she steps into a defensive stance and watches Vega smile coldly while he covers his face in the emotionless steel mask -- is the villain before her, and the task at hand. And, of course, avoiding a complete blood-bath in his favor.

The flag is raised, quickly plunged with a shout of "BEGIN!" and the Spanish ninja lunges forward, claws raised. The first thought in Natalie's mind is, Whoa... he's even faster than he looks from outside the ring... The second is, Good thing I wore the armguards, as the claws clatter off the right bracer while its twin deflects another blow from his naked hand, the woman spinning with the motion as she realizes her defense cannot be held as normal against such a quick opponent. Movement would have to be constant, and her instincts would win or lose it for her, for there was no time for conscious thought.

Blocking several more bladed and bare punches gives her enough confidence to drop low for a leg sweep, yet proves fruitless as the man suddenly backflips higher into the air than even she is capable of. He seems to be moving even faster as he comes straight back down -- blades first -- in what is known as the Flying Barcelona Attack. Not that Mien cares what it's called, too distracted by the pain of one claw as it slips down her armguard to slice a shallow gash just below her elbow. The force behind the blow also makes her stumble, a mistake that almost costs her too much as Vega hits the ground rolling, slashing at her with each rotation as she continues to backtrack helplessly. The move ends with him in a kneeling position, and the hard ends of the blades shoved forcefully into Mien's abdomen. Pain flares through her legs, bruises would no doubt be present later, yet thankfully the thickness of her pants had kept the few cuts to little more than burning scratches. The sharp, unyielding force of the steel against her abdomen does more damage, knocking all air from her lungs and sending white-hot pain throughout her.

While Wynshire rolls to her side, coughing and gasping, the blond takes a moment to revel in what he easily assumes will be a victory. "My, it always pains me to scar such lovely creatures like you..." His voice is low and smooth, coated in poisoned honey. As Natalie pushes herself to her feet, Vega makes a display of licking along one of his lightly bloodied blades. "Yet... I admit that the thought of spilling your blood is thrilling enough to make up for it."

That the man is all but getting off on lapping her blood from his weapon like some rabid beast stirs just enough anger within Natalie to provoke an attack. This time, it is the Spaniard who is forced on the defensive, though he manages to come back with an attack now and then. Going mostly for kicks, spinning and launching from one assault to another, Natalie does manage to land a few to his torso and some lower on his legs. Would that his guard be let down enough for her to hit him where it might really hurt, yet he isn't that stupid. Her barrage ends with her Fire Raid technique, sending her opponent back a few steps with the last chi-charged kick to his midsection. Once landing, she gives pause as soon as he begins to speak. "You are fast, chica..."

His wicked grin can be heard in his voice if not seen as he raises his weapon again. "Yet not fast enough..." Turquoise eyes widen as he attacks again, this time even more relentless. More of his strikes get through, the number of rips in her clothes and cuts over her skin increasing quickly. Before the dark haired fighter can register what he's doing, Vega flips over her, grabbing her from behind and hauling her into the belly-to-back suplex variation he calls the Izuna Drop. Pain explodes in the back of her skull as Natalie crashes hard against the soil which seems not nearly yielding enough.

Given no time for rest, Natalie is launched into the air, straight up, and descends by the pull of gravity toward Vega's up-raised claw. "It's almost over, dear. Too soon..." she somehow hears him whisper over the din of the frothing masses. Blue eyes narrow and are turned to meet those of a colder shade as Natalie twists cat-like in mid air and brings her cupped palms to counter his Red Impact.

"Neo blast!"

~*~

Silver eyes narrow slightly as they study the woman in the arena below. No, not the one fighting... the one with the black hair with red streaks, sitting almost sullenly outside of the fighting area. A chubby squirrel chitters at her, only to be lightly thumped on the nose.

This goes unnoticed by most in favor of observing the large spheres of blue-white energy that catch the Shadowlaw operative by surprise, forcing him to attempt a block while simultaneously propelling the girl upward. The block fails, and the fans erupt in a cacophony of cheers and boos.

Dante, a man known by very few, could care less for this. His attention is, and has been, focused solely on the woman from the picture. Iwa.

What can she tell me? She must know something... if I had a picture, she had to be important somehow, he thinks as he keeps watching, his expression neutral. How should he approach her... and when?

He contemplates these things, as he's done for many nights now, while the match continues.

~*~

The pain does not slow her, if anything, it seems to only give Natalie motivation as she attacks while Vega reels from the surge of blue fire that had engulfed him barely seconds ago. The Neo Blaze assails him next, blue tendrils of spiritual power trailing off of the slender, black-clad form as Natalie charges at him with a fire-engulfed fist. Skidding along the ground, Vega lays prone for only a couple of seconds before standing up, to Wynshire's disappointment. She can't tell whether he shakes from pain or rage... but the glaring look in his eyes hints at the latter. With a shrill curse, he rushes in again, putting her in the same position as before. This time, her thick clothes provide little protection, shredded as they've become. The blades sink deep into her right side, scraping ribs and pulling an audible cry from her. Her right thigh suffers deeper damage, as well, though the pain there is drowned by the abdominal wound.

With her defense quickly slipping, Natalie decides the claw must go. A decision she'd have been better off making earlier, but hindsight is 20/20. Latching onto the wrist with the offending weapon, Natalie improvises with her Neo Drain to stun the ninja, pulling energy from his body opposite of how she infuses energy into one she heals. Shocked by the sudden lull in his stamina and power, the blond quickly drops to one knee, trying to wrench his arm free. Wrapping one arm around his forearm both prevents him from being successful and allows her to hammer with her armguard against the base of the blades. Three times breaks the first, and the rest are quick to follow, shattered at the hilt.

When at last he frees himself, Vega shrieks in outrage at the damage done to his precious blood-letting tool. "You bitch!" he hisses.

His opponent only offers a cold smile and the words, "Well, takes one to know one, I suppose. Not that I'm anything like you..."

Prompted by her words, the man rails on her almost mindlessly in rage, bare fists hitting their marks enough to cause her to eventually stumble. Due to the previous cuts, blood splatters with every impact against her worn body, causing the audience to scream for more. Damn sadists... Natalie thinks with a dry chuckle, cut off by another Rolling Crystal Flash manoeuvre.

Yet even in a fit of rage, Vega begins to tire. The strength she'd sapped from him adds greatly to any damage done by her strikes, and without his claw, his moves are only half as effective. Wishing to add to his delirium, Natalie can now afford to take swipes against his exposed skin with her own fingernails, leaving bloody, red welts behind. His arms, his chest, shoulder... the more she inflicts the marks, the angrier he becomes. She is almost giddy with grim amusement at this, and finally manages to snatch a handful of his long braid, ever so thankful she'd again donned the bun to protect her from him doing what she is about to do. Snatching as hard as she can, Natalie drops to the ground. Unable to help but follow with the weight that pulls against his head and neck, Vega falls, landing against the thick soles of Natalie's boots and being launched into the air.

The satisfaction of watching him land in an ungraceful heap does not come, however, for Vega flips during his airborne trip to land on his feet. Though winded... he was far from done, she realizes with dismay. She can feel herself weakening, even considering the strength she'd taken from him, it wouldn't make up for the loss of blood until she had time to heal. Oh, that's right... she remembers sourly. I'm not allowed to do that this time.

This leaves her with little choice. She has to beat him... and needs to do that before he inflicts true damage upon her. Her side and thigh still throb with sharp pain as it is, and she was certain of a couple of cracked ribs. Gathering her energy into her palms, she prepares for another chi assault. Vega, seeing this, moves to interrupt her, flipping towards her faster than she can fully prepare for. He connects with fists and feet, still flipping in his Scarlet Mirage, yet thankfully without the aid of his weapon. Before he is finished, though, Natalie manages to raise her guard just enough to block once. Once is all she needs to open him upon for an attack...

Heaven's Rush follows in a blue flash, her elbow striking hard against his vulnerable torso. Several fast, blurred kicks follow this, yet just as she moves for the vaulting upward kick that would set him up for the final two blows, Vega lashes out with his fist, striking her collarbone and almost crushing it. Her backwards momentum from the preparation for the kick saves her from that, yet Vega still pursues with several expeditious kicks and punches.

The brunette lands hard and doesn't move... long enough for the referee to begin the count. Time was nearly up anyway, only a minute left to go. At three, she moved. By four, she had roughly shoved herself upright, halting the count. No longer in the mood for words or games, Vega gives Natalie no more time nor mercy.

He dashes forward, and this time she runs to meet him, hands again cupped and gathering blue fire at her sides. With a shrill cry the Spanish ninja vaults into the air, fist aimed at her as if he still donned the claw while he descends. She stops, throws her hands forward, a split-second before impact, and shouts.

"Neo Storm!!"

What occurs then is obscured to the audience in a near-blinding flash of blue and white as a massive sphere of the same colors engulfs both fighters, burning for several seconds.

Once the energy dissipates, both are revealed to be laying prone on the ground. The referee waits a moment, then begins the count. "One! Two... Three!"

Blue eyes opened slowly, and shaking hands pushed a battered form to a kneeling position.

"Four!"

Unsteady feet plant themselves against the ground quickly, as their owner is hauled upright just as the first letter of the last number is voiced.

"Fi-" The referee stops for a moment to look at the young warrior before him, and at the one fallen. Then he finishes. "Five!! Winner... Mien!!"

Natalie stands for only a second longer, looking over her prone adversary. Then, the last of her will to remain upright fades and she crumples into a heap, content this time to allow the paramedics to rush to her aid.

It was, after all, what she was supposed to do.
 

-Somewhere in Cozumel, Mexico, 11:58PM-

It was getting late, Esperanza Rios notes. In her private study, she resists her body's desire for rest a little while longer in order to continue her current task. Strewn out on the desk in front of her are various sheets of paper -- ranging from news articles, to Internet printout and photocopies -- some documents originally belonging to Ming, and others being her own, which are all mainly held together by plastic paperclips. Esperanza reaches for one and begins scanning through it, marking sections of interest she finds before picking up another pile and repeating the process. Taped above her is a world map, which is pierced with six red pushpins at specific locations. After taking another glance at the sheet in front of her, Esperanza soon adds a different coloured pushpin to the map, to where Egypt is located. She leans back in her chair to observe the map some more with her arms crossed, and her eyes narrowed in concentration.

Based on the information Ming gave... those are the places that the strange anomalies took place in. Rios assesses. Excluding her location, it identified the following positions: Stonehenge in Europe, the snowy foothills of Tibet, Thailand, Hawaii, somewhere in the Middle East and, finally, Peru. On a surface level it didn't amount to much, though, and understandably so. Yet Ming had managed to develop his own thesis on the matter, and this was where the black pushpin came in.

Esperanza attempts to stifle a yawn, but is unable to keep up the resistance to sleep anymore and so gives up the task, albeit reluctantly. Rios soon makes sure that everything is ordered and arranged neatly on the table before rising up from her chair, and finally turning off the light to the study as she leaves to head upstairs to her bedroom. Unbeknownst to Esperanza, a beam of moonlight from above streams into the room, and partly onto the sheet of paper she had been reading seconds earlier, unveiling the following words:

Best regards,

R