Board Fighters 2 - Chapter 40

Board Fighters II
Chapter 40 The Cool
Writer: Gouki (w/ Animenadie, Cherie and Iwa)

-Unknown Location-

Two series of images flash before her. She tries to reach for one series but it slips away. On either side they hang, where one claims to be real, whilst the other one refutes, before the roles reverse in an ongoing cycle. Unfortunately for her, neither exchange allows her to understand but only furthers her confusion. Which was the truth and which was the lie? Both series then morph into the spokes of a wheel, which starts to spin wildly. Then it comes crashing down onto her…

Iwa jolts out of bed, panting heavily, wild eyes on the verge of panic rapidly glancing left and right to determine her location. Now fully upright, she no longer remembers what the nightmare was about, although the fear and the confusion still lingers within her. Maru looks at her with curious black eyes, sensing her unease as his whiskers twitch away in response.

Rather than confront another headache, Iwa dispels her current emotions in order to keep her mind clear. Looking outside the window, it was almost dawn. It didn't take her long to pack up, securing the laces of a pair of roller blades giving Maru time to scurry up her shoulder. It was time to head back to The Makai.

==

-Room 105, The Makai-

A low groan escapes from Jin's mouth as he rolls onto his stomach, then onto his back, where he gradually musters the will to sit upright on the hotel room bed. For the moment he remains this way, silent and unmoving in the darkness. Eventually his body stirs to life again and he moves off the bed, heading towards the room balcony.

How long was I asleep? Kushina wonders to himself. Upon pulling aside the curtains and stepping outside, the glow of early morning sunlight washes over his features and into the room. Oh. Crap.

In truth, Jin hadn't intended to sleep for that long. After the whole pets fiasco yesterday, he'd decided to take a short nap to then wake up in time to watch the last Quarter Final match of the tournament on TV, followed by other commitments. Although he'd still be able to catch the highlights later, if he wanted, the fact he ended up sleeping through the rest of the whole day yesterday irked him somewhat.

"Hey! What the hell is your problem?!"

"Are you going to stop me? You're free to help him if you want…"

"Let him go."

"You'd do well to back off, unless you want to end up in the hospital… again."

"I make it a point not to lose to the same person twice, if you wanna try your luck."

...

"Are you drunk?"

"Again, not your business, but not really."

"How could you drink at a time like this?"

"Sakura, stay out of this."

"Tell me what happened to Natalie!"

"She's gone."

…

"Just make sure that you and your girlfriend take better care of those animals."

"Have we met before?"

With such thoughts and more lurking inside his mind, Jin steps back into the room in a purposeful manner. He forcibly pushes the recollection of recent events to one side, save for one that he allows to take centre stage. That event in question is exactly what the courier is standing in front of right now, represented by Natalie's laptop, and the recently-discovered flash drive that's attached to its side.

The laptop was still on from two days ago, undisturbed since he'd accessed and waded through the army of files that night before giving way to sleep. Now sitting before the screen, Kushina continues on from where he'd left off, observing every blueprint that catches his gaze, any image that attracts his interest, and whatever file report available of value. Over the next hour, Jin absorbs all that and more. The deeper he searches, the more graphic the images grew, the more disturbing the lab reports became, and the more evident Umbrella's ties to various political and law enforcement figures actually were - Parker included.

"Maybe you'll find her in pieces… a heart here, a kidney there." Parker's voice taunts, via Jin's subconscious, just as an image of a decaying body organ sprouts into view onscreen. "Maybe she'll be a corpse who doesn't know she's dead yet." the voice continues. "Without me to help you get her back, you're f--ked and you know it."

Jin takes in a short breath that's then followed by a sardonic smile. "Definitely appreciate the vote of confidence, Kyle," he says. "Even when you're dead, you still manage to piss me off."

Kushina rises from his position some time later, pulling the flash drive out of the laptop as he does so. Before that, he'd made sure to transfer the blueprints and layout of the facility onto the hard drive. After taking a shower and feeding the pets, he would go over those particular files some more, as long as it took to commit to memory. After that, all he had to do was take the steps towards planning some way to get on that island, towards rescuing his mien, and towards eliminating anyone that made the mistake of standing between him and his objective.

==

-Private Suite, The Makai-

"Shibazaki," Karin barks with a sharp, regal-like tone that the family steward is long accustomed to. Currently held in her hand is a formal outfit of some kind. "Make sure this is ready for me by today's press conference."

Even as Shibazaki takes the outfit out of her hands, a flicker of confusion seems to linger in his following words. "Understood, Miss Karin, but I was under the impression that Mr. Masters would be conducting-"

"Mr. Masters just recently came out of a match, and some of his injuries are still visible, even after treatment," Karin interrupts. "That renders him unfit, as far as I'm concerned, to be this week's representative." The heiress throws the middle-aged man a critical stare. "You of all people should have understood this, Shibazaki."

The normally emotionless and unreadable steward takes a noticeable gulp, then throws the upper half of his body forward into an apologetic bow. "My apologies, Miss Karin. I'll be sure to update Mr. Masters on the developments."

"Good." Karin says. "Tell Ishizaki to hurry up with preparing my morning meal as well. While Miss Rinaldo may be worthy of my company, her hotel cuisines, sadly, are not worthy of my taste buds."

"Understood, Miss Karin."

Karin pays little mind to Shibazaki after that as he quietly exits the suite, outfit in hand.

==

-Penthouse Suite, The Makai-

"Morning," is the first thing Locke hears as he opens his eyes. Directly in front of him stands his girlfriend, already dressed, currently applying the finishing touches of makeup to her face. "Didn't get to see you last night."

"Morning," Koh half-mumbles, half-yawns whilst sitting up on the bed. "Yeah, I know." After work, Locke had stationed himself in his office, with the intention to finish up any remaining paperwork on top of furthering his knowledge on his work duties. "Better get used to it," he adds with a small grin.

"I don't mind," Meliza replies with a warm smile in kind. "It shows I chose the right man for the job. Most of the staff seems to agree as well."

"Oh?" By now Locke is fully upright and heading towards the bathroom. Rinaldo follows after him, leaning against the doorframe as Locke splashes cold water onto his face.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," he says suddenly. "You remember the guy I told you about? The senior guy in Umbrella's security division?"

Meliza blinks. "You mean Jerry Dennison?" It almost seemed like a long time ago - 6 days in fact - since she'd entertained Thaddeus Keenan's company as a trap to get his superior's name, the man behind RJ's attempted hit. It wasn't a name she planned on forgetting anytime soon.

"Yeah, him," Locke confirms. "Turns out when he's not holed up at Umbrella HQ, he's known to spend his days off at the Hawaii Kai Golf Course."

"Hawaii Kai Golf Course? That's not that far from here, actually," Meliza comments. "So when's his next day off?"

"Today."

"I see." Meliza doesn't say anything else after that, yet Locke notices her brow furrowing slightly with a concerted look.

"You got something in mind?" he inquires.

"Of course," she replies. Her expression soon breaks away to reveal a dark, dangerous smile. "I intend for him to suffer, Locke," she adds. "Suffer miserably…"

==

-Umbrella Pacific Research Facility, Level 2-

She doesn't care who she is fighting. She knows him, yet doesn't bring herself to care that it is a colleague she's fighting… who seemingly refuses to fight back. All that matters is that she impresses those who warped her, who continually try to shape her into some sort of weapon. What they did to her makes it hard to hold onto her need for revenge with the clarity of before… but hold it she does.

It's the only reason she's able to punch John Heagy full in the face and not wince as his head snaps back with a trail of blood following.

Watching and scribbling madly on their notes behind three sheets of protective glass, the Shadaloo scientists observe the fight between their own prospective soldier and the one Umbrella beat them to. Umbrella's best minds stand quietly by, some feeling more than a little smug as their subject fights with cold ferocity against her unwilling opponent.

"So how does her programming work?" Dr. Markus Weizheimmer asks.

Noiv is more than pleased to explain, hands folded calmly behind him. "Her mental condition was first made unstable by the supposed 'death' of her fiancé. After that, it was only a matter of the usual condition applied after her implant. It's a new chip we've been working on… unlike our subject Eleonore, it has no need of outside control. Once it's attached to the back of her brain stem, it simply works on pre-programmed and periodically updated directives and adjusts things like emotions and hormonal responses to motivate the subject toward the correct response."

"The implant, does it account for any possibilities of resistance?"

Jacques takes the time to flash a confident smile, before answering the question, "Should the subject resist, it will increase her aggressor response or other strong instincts, until she complies. It allows for limited free thought, as long as those thoughts do not interfere with her mission. This enables her to come up with creative means of accomplishing that mission, rather than relying purely on orders. It also keeps her in line with our goals, unlike certain contracted subordinates."

"Hmm, interesting…" Markus says as he watches Heagy begin to fight back, though obviously without the will required to win. They knew he knew the girl; he'd made a big fuss about being thrown into a fight with her and was continuing even now to attempt to reason with her. Markus smiles as he fails, yet again. This 'test' would allow them not only to see what Umbrella was doing with their money, but also give them a chance to further break the soldier's will and mess with his mind, proving to him that everything is beyond his control as long as he resists.

"What the hell is making you do this?" John tries, not for the first time, to question his former ally as he does his best to defend himself without attempting to really hurt her.

He receives no answer, just as before. She hammers his guard with an overhead strike, allowing him to grab her arm and drive his left foot into her side, jerking her arm in a twisting motion and nearly dislocating her shoulder, though he hates having to do so.

F---ing bastards… he thinks as he releases her arm to see if she backs off.

When she takes only a couple of seconds to adjust her shoulder before rushing right back at him, John curses audibly.

"I don't wanna fight you, dammit!"

You don't have a choice, she thinks, but refuses to express. It's better if he believes he's fighting a machine, in her mind.

"Her physical condition is vastly improved from before. Did you accomplish this with one of your viruses?" Yalana asks as she notices the crack in the bullet-proof glass where John had dodged one of Natalie's kicks. "Her speed has also increased slightly, but she seems reluctant to use her ki force. Is there a reason for that?"

"We did use one of our viruses to enhance her, much as we have done with Romanav. Her body is younger and more responsive, so it seems she may be adapting to it more efficiently. Both are being kept in check by an injected inhibitor that prevents infection of others and undesirable mutations." Jacques covers his mouth as he yawns, having not slept in… how long now? Two days? "As for her energy usage, we're not certain why she refuses to use it now, but we're working with her on it. Even without it, you can see how effective she is."

"But how obedient is she? And with her fiancé supposedly dead, what's stopping her from playing Juliet and taking her life? We've had some trouble with listless or suicidal subjects before, as you certainly have," Yamada inquires, trailing off in unintelligible questions.

"The chip will keep her alive by its manipulation. It's one major reason we believe it to be an improvement over past projects. Her obedience will be shown in a few moments. I take it you've observed her closely enough to ascertain her former personality?"

"Lots of pets, animal lover, sexually aggressive, spontaneous and easily annoyed, typical softie, unnaturally prone to sunburn, hated her boss, sympathetic-" Yamada begins rattling off before Yalana stops him with an annoyed stare.

Noiv clears his throat. "Yes, and perhaps most importantly, she detests hurting people she likes or believes to have done no wrong. She was even recommended for therapy after her first kill when she first joined the FBI… though she refused to submit to it."

He smiles and motions to a guard. "You have the weapon Romanav took from her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Give it to her. He's nearly finished."

His point is proven as Heagy's body collides with the glass and slides down to slump on the floor, barely moving. The guard nods and, though wary, moves to the door and waits. Jacques activates the communications unit mounted to the wall to speak to the woman behind the glass.

"The guard at the door has an old friend of yours. Take it, and put a bullet in his head. Then your test will be finished."

She walks calmly to the guard and takes the gun. A moment later, she stands over the soldier with it pointed to his head. Heagy looks up with no fear in his eyes. She won't do it, she can't. Hell, even if she does… maybe it's better. I'm not going to become like that. I can't let them do to me what they did to her…

The hesitation is brief. She pulls the trigger, but the click signals an empty chamber. She pulls it four times more… until it's clear that the entire cylinder is empty. Her order unable to be followed, she straightens, waits a moment for further orders, then leaves the room when none come.

John's body sags in both relief and defeat. She'd been willing to kill him. Medical staff rushes in to aid him as the doctors chatter among themselves about the data collected in the fight.

Noiv, meanwhile, smiles knowingly and then stands to one side, impassive. While the gun had been set up to be empty all along, it would not be the case the next time.

Tonight, there will be another test.

==

-S-Doll Boutique, Koko Marina Shopping District-

He lost count of how many times he passed by this shop without giving it much attention. Sure it was just a toyshop, until he realised who it belonged to. Naturally surveillance had been placed on this shop as a result, yet it was actually the first time he'd stepped inside the store. Plus it was a little creepy seeing his likeness staring back at him on such a small scale. Much attention had been paid to the colour of his eyes though.

It dampened his spirits that during the melee of the panicking crowd Iwa had got away, his biggest lead to finding Victoria gone. Instead they ended up apprehending three cosplayers instead. Thanks to Chun Li, however, they were able to appease the innocent trio and avoid what could've been an ugly situation. She had mentioned something about the incident being a bonus interactive show event, considering the convention's theme was espionage. Naturally the organisers of the event backed her up - not that they'd had much of a choice. At least things were kept quiet. Discreet investigations had later discovered that a firecracker in a trashcan was behind the explosion. .

"Greetings, Senor Pierantoni," Vega says with a pleasant tone as he strolls towards him from the counter. "Have you come to redeem your complimentary doll?" In his right hand is a paper bag with an advertisement of the tournament and the shop's link to it printed onto the front. Inside the bag is a box that contains a doll in Riq's image.

"Or have you come for her?" Vega picks out a female doll and hands it with the bag over to Riq. It's a doll of Victoria, complete with rooted streaks of highlights in her hair to match her most current look. Obviously, Vega had been paying enough attention to the tabloids to be aware of his relationship to Victoria.

Was there any way he could just find out who took Victoria? He looks around the shop a second time, seeing full well how its owner is practically milking this tournament for all it's worth. For some reason there was even a 'Fairy Tale' Line, with Victoria designated as 'Sleeping Beauty'.

"Interested? I even have a suit of armour for your doll, although you'll have to order the castle and horse separately of course. You could always make do with the dojo in the meantime. Dojos sell very well." The assassin finishes off the sales pitch with a smile, which begins to irritate Riq slightly.

"Some of your colleagues showed up yesterday. I don't see them here now," the agent says.

"Since I doubt any one of you would help me with advertising, it is only natural I approach my own colleagues. Surely the Colonel would have a transcript of what I told him yesterday? Or is there no communication amongst you all?"

"Has your partner come back?" he asks.

"She goes where she wishes to go," Vega shrugs. "It would be good for business though if she comes back once in a while." He absently waves towards the diorama in the centre of the shop.

Losing their biggest lead to Victoria's whereabouts frustrated him. Would Iwa even keep her end of the bargain? Or was it just to throw him off? Was there a more sinister reason as to why nobody was claiming responsibility? If only he knew where she had gone.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," Riq warns. Staying here won't give him any answers, he thinks. Besides, Vega would probably try to sell him something else the longer he stayed around.

Vega acknowledges Riq's parting comment with a simple smile before the latter turns to leave the shop.

-*-

From a café a few shops down, Iwa opens the newspaper wide as Riq passes by. She had spotted him in the shop and headed for the café to wait until he eventually left. She wasn't entirely keen to run into him this soon. Short of fighting her, there was no way she would be willing to go back to Guile. She had no reason to go back, her 'innocence' had been proven to a point. She was pretty much useless to them anyway. All she needed to do now is wait for the tournament to end. It would be nice bonus too if she didn't go back to the faculty empty-handed.

"You're either very stupid or very arrogant to come back here."

Stepping into her partner's toyshop Iwa is greeted by a frown. A new line of 'Fairy Tale' Dolls catches her attention. She found it amusing to see who was cast as Snow White, Little Red Riding Hood, the Big Bad Wolf, Hansel and Gretel and Sleeping Beauty. If only they knew what her partner was hinting at, even though it would lead to some amount of trouble.

"He ordered us not to claim responsibility, y'know. This is pretty much gloating." Iwa muses as she picks the 'Sleeping Beauty' doll and automatically started braiding the doll's hair.

"If you aren't here to talk business, leave. Otherwise go back to work. Your fans missed you." He makes a gesture to the diorama. Iwa knew full well that he wanted to ensure that nothing from his main job would be linked to his part time business.

"Just curious. She was a friend after all. Although now I think I might have answers." Iwa waggled the Victoria doll.

"Speculate all you like. I have no answers for you. Although by now you would have known why his orders are such. Where would you be staying?"

"I have my old room back," she answers. "I think the surveillance equipment might still be there. Can't get rid of everything. Might end up with another pervert rummaging through my underwear drawer." A grimace appears on her face with the last remark. She wasn't entirely pleased by the lack of privacy, but at least she would not be that close to them.

"He's not the only one who's been here?"

"The Colonel and the Detective came yesterday. You should have seen Yanyu. She has a great future in sales and promotion. Quite the charming little minx if she wants to be. Although I think the Detective was quite fond of the dojo in the first place." Vega laughs, a jerk of his head makes Iwa glance in the direction of the counter.

There were some play sets - dojos to be precise. An exact replica of a specific dojo in Japan, right down to the training posts, wooden dummies and a swing hanging from a tree in the courtyard. Iwa frowns at the vague memory of a qi explosion and the pain of betrayal that followed. She shakes it off, knowing that if she thinks too much there would be another throbbing headache.

"Just make sure you keep yourself out of trouble. We may have trouble pulling you out of the next Big Bad Wolf." Vega emphasises his point with a waggle of his finger.

Iwa answers him with a cynical snort. Ignoring her partner she heads towards the central diorama to continue where she left the story off. The others would be aware of her return by now.

==

-Hawaii Kai Golf Course Car Park, Oahu-

The plan was simple, one that Meliza has gone over in her mind since this morning. In less than five minutes, Dennison would turn up here. Dennison would then park his car, walk up into the building, and proceed to enjoy his scheduled golf session. It would also be the last time that Dennison would see his car in working condition again.

In other words, a simple plan, Meliza confirms to herself, but not the only one. There was the chance, after all, that Jerry Dennison may not turn up at all today, yet whether he does or he doesn't, she still had a trump card of her own to deploy at will.

"Hmph, not even a serious challenge," Meliza suddenly hears Locke say. Looking over the car backseat, she finds him staring at his laptop screen with what appears to be a bored look on his face.

"Online poker, I presume?" she asks.

"Yeah, but the competition's not really good right now," Koh replies.

"Then what's stopping you from playing against, say… me?" Meliza teases.

"Hmm… I'd say nothing more than a deck of cards," Locke counters. He puts the laptop away to one side, just as Meliza reaches into the glove compartment and retrieves a boxed card deck. Less than a minute later, the cards are soon shuffled and ready to be dealt.

"Okay, you already know the rules," Meliza says. She hands out five cards to Locke as well as to herself.

"Yeah, and no mind reading this time." After looking at his hand, he discards two cards and waits for Meliza to deal two more in replacement.

"This time? There was never even a last time!" She playfully punches his arm, and then switches three cards in her hand for three from the deck.

"Just making sure," he says with a smirk before observing his hand. Thanks to the switch, he now had a winning hand. As he expected, Meliza's expression and body language upon observing her own cards revealed little. Feeling rather confident about his hand - yet keeping his body language neutral, of course - he holds out his set of cards in front of her.

"Straight flush," he states matter-of-factly. The cards, from left to right, range from a jack, down to seven, all of clubs.

"That's quite a strong hand," Meliza admits, although her expression doesn't change beyond that. She's about to say something else, but then the sound of an engine roaring interrupts her. Both of them stare outside in time to see a sleek, white Bentley convertible turn into the parking lot. They both follow the car with their eyes as its driver eventually turns into a space no less than fifty yards away from their position, before turning off the engine.

"That's him," Locke says. A tanned, middle-aged man of slim build steps out of the vehicle, wearing a matching white polo short and slacks over a pair of white shoes. Dennison stops at the back of his car and slides the key into the lock, opening the trunk and pulls out his golf bag full of golfing equipment.

"Nice car," Meliza acknowledges. She watches Jerry sling the bag over his shoulder, slams the trunk shut, slips the keys into his pocket, and turns to head towards the doors. Once he is completely out of sight, Meliza begins to make her move.

RJ, this is for you, Meliza says silently as she opens her car door. She turns to Locke briefly, who responds with an encouraging nod whilst reaching for the laptop. Rinaldo steps out, her card hand dangling almost precariously from her slender fingers, and paces coolly towards the convertible. As she gets closer, the area around her hand starts to emit a faint blue aura. Meliza snaps her eyes shut in concentration, and transfers a portion of her energy into the cards, causing them to radiate a warm, matching blue glow.

Locke turns away from his task long enough to see Meliza swing her arm out across her chest, sending the glowing cards out at a downward angle towards the car. They cut neatly through the air - almost as if travelling in a delta formation, Locke would swear to himself afterwards - and land directly under the Bentley, concealed by the car's shadow, like a series of carefully planted time bombs. Meliza stops long enough to admire her handiwork, then heads back to her ride just as calmly as she'd left.

"It's done," Locke says as soon as Meliza closes the door and starts the engine. What Koh is referring to is the 'trump card', so to speak. "Mr. Dennison will certainly have some difficulty accessing his bank accounts in the future."

"Good." Meliza allows a satisfied smile to creep onto her face. "We'll have enough time to escape onto the highway before they detonate, to lessen any suspicion," she adds. After giving Locke time to move onto the passenger seat after turning off the laptop, and then drives them past the rigged convertible, and out of the parking lot.

Just before they get back onto Kalanianaole Highway, Locke turns on the car radio to pass the time. As a song from a local artist comes to a close and the DJ prepares to play another selection, his eyes glance across the card deck, now missing five cards, in addition to the five he'd left on the back seat.

"Just out of curiousity," he asks. "What was your hand?"

"Oh?" Meliza turns to him. "Kinda forgot about that. Well, since your hand's back there, you could just go through the deck and see what cards are missing, I guess."

Good idea. He proceeds to do just that, sifting through, filing, and arranging the remaining cards by suit. Wait a minute, Koh's eyes slowly widen as he sees a growing pattern developing in front of him. Her hand, it…

"Figured it out yet?" Meliza says, breaking into his thoughts.

"So far, your deck's missing a king, a queen, a jack, a ten…" His lips form a grim line as he discovers the final card. "And an ace, all of diamonds."

"Hmm… that sounds like a royal flush, right?" Meliza responds with a warm, all-knowing smile. She's about to say something else before she's interrupted for the second time today, this time by a loud explosion.

Locke whirls his head back towards the car park, and sees the column of black, curling smoke rising towards the clear sky. For a moment, he envisions Jerry Dennison racing out of the building, drawn by the explosion, and then the painful realisation of what's just occurred burning into his mind more emphatically than the wreckage itself.

If Meliza has any similar thoughts, she doesn't make them known for the rest of the journey back to The Makai. Off in the fading distance, in the rear-view mirror, she too sees the evidence of her handiwork. It would take a while longer for it to fade away from the recesses of her mind.

==

Karin Kanzuki tosses her hair over her shoulders as she stares at the various members of the press from her position behind the podium. Behind her, the Makai and its various palm trees serve as the perfect backdrop.

"The semi-finals are scheduled to take place in the next few days," she says aloud. "The first match will take place between Alex and Fei Long. The other - and perhaps the more anticipated - will be between Ken and Ryu."

A reporter dressed in an awful Hawaiian shirt raises his hand. Karin holds back a cringe. Whatever happened to journalists who at least DRESSED like they could write?

She gestures to him. "The man with the hideous shirt, you have a question?"

He clears his throat in embarrassment. "Um... any thoughts on who could win?"

"No."

"None? Any guesses?"

Karin sighs exasperatedly. "These men have proven to be the best against all of their opponents. Quite honestly, they all are very skilled, so I'd say it's an open race as far as who could win."

Another hand shoots up. "Would you say this tournament is fair?"

"Meaning what?"

"Well, considering that sponsors were allowed to participate... and in this case, one of the sponsors is still competing. Then you have his old friend who also happens to still be competing. That doesn't seem very fair to others..."

Without any hesitation, Karin grabs and hurls the nearest pen on the podium at the journalist. "I believe Ken Masters said that part of the joy of participating is the chance to reacquaint yourselves with fighters you lose touch with over the years."

"Why can't you just call or email each other?"

Karin glares at the new questioner, as if addressing a lower form of life. "Are you even listening to yourself?" At his blank look, she rolls her eyes. "Fine. I say this with the utmost respect, but does anyone here actually think that Ryu Hoshi uses a phone or email as much as we do?"

"Good point..."

"Exactly. Now, as I was saying," Karin continues haughtily. "All fighters have one common goal, and their backgrounds make no difference. Out in the ring, we aren't sponsors or former champions. We are fighters out to prove our skills in ways we are denied back home. Next question."

"What happened to those participants who went dead or missing?"

Karin lets out a sigh. She knew that one was going to come up eventually. "If you had paid attention to Honolulu Police Department's press conference weeks ago, you would know that they have closed their investigation concerning Ming Croft, Cana Verdandi, and Reno Tseng."

"Sources tell me that Sean Matsuda and Victoria Millan, along with a few others, have yet to be seen around the grounds. You've been spotted several times in Millan's company, and Matsuda is Ken's student. Any reasons why they're gone?"

Karin makes a look of disgust at the woman, after noticing a slightly strange angle of her filed nails. "They probably eloped. Obviously Masters and I have nothing better to do than set up people we know."

"But I thought she was involved with that one-"

"I'm not here to update you on the local romantic gossip," Karin scolds. "Next tournament-related question..."

As much as Karin loved the spotlight, today was one particular day that she wished Ken had been fit enough to take over this week's press conference.

==

-Penthouse Suite, The Makai-

With a long, time-consuming day - and nearly half of the subsequent evening - now behind him, and finally having the chance to retire to bed, no sooner does Locke's body rests against the sheets than his cell phone rings. With a heavy sigh, he reaches over to the nightstand to pick it up before it could wake the sleeping hotel manager beside him.

A glance at the number tells him it's not any member of staff or anyone he knows.

"Makai security, Devlin Cai speaking," he answers quietly. Up to now, he still hadn't decided on an exact proper way to answer an official call this late at night.

A panicked female voice quavers on the other end. "Mr. Cai? Oh thank God! I need-"

Static interferes with whatever the woman is trying to say, but Locke is already out of bed, fully alert and redressing as he tries to make out what the woman is saying.

"-couldn't get far," the voice phases back in. "I would go to the police, but they have contacts everywhere…"

"Who does?"

"Umbrella!"

Already half-dressed, he steps out of the bedroom of the suite and buckles the gun holster over his shirt. "Where are you?"

He can hear her panting as she pauses, clearly trying to make out where exactly she is. "I'm close to Kalanianaole Highway, at the edge of Sandy Beach P-… I think… I can't… it's really dark and I've been moving ever since I got ashore…" Static phases in and out of the conversation.

"Who are you?" he questions immediately. "Why did you contact me specifically?"

"You tried to help a friend of mine... My name is Janna Richards… used to work for the company that killed her. Please, you have to help me! I almost didn't make… and I know they aren't far off..." She keeps breaking up, but her voice trembles as she begs. "Please…"

"I'm on my way, just stay there. I'll call you back once I get close to the park." When she affirms that she will, Locke is already in the elevator heading down.

-*-

The voice that carried so much emotion on the phone fails to match the near-dead expression of the woman to whom it belongs. Former Agent Wynshire flips the cell phone closed and puts away the device that mocked poor reception, then tucks her long hair under a black, full-face helmet. Parked hidden from view, she watches The Makai's new head of security as he slides into the driver's seat of a black sedan and quickly but smoothly speeds out of the parking lot. Seconds later, she revs the engine of her motorcycle. The Hayabusa purrs as she pulls out onto the street, following the 300C from a reasonable distance.

==

-Kalanianaole Highway, Oahu-

As Locke speeds northeastward on highway 72, he glances not for the first time in his rear-view mirror to see the single headlight about a quarter-mile behind him. Normally it wouldn't surprise him to see a motorcyclist cruising the coastal highway at this hour of the night, but he notes how every time he changes his speed, the rider modulates his or her own to compensate, never falling behind or passing. The lights of the Koko Marina shopping area flash by on either side of the highway, and Locke knows that soon he will enter a long, much less populated stretch of 72.

A slight frown creases the corners of his lips. If he's being tailed, then there aren't many other roads he'll be able to use to lose them. Even if he can, wasting time isn't an option. Pushing 95mph, Koh keeps his attention on the road ahead as he pulls his cell phone from his pocket to call Janna Richards.

He listens to it ring until it goes to a generic voicemail.

Not good, he thinks with a deeper frown. He tries twice more as the town lights dim in the distance behind him. No other vehicles are in sight, apart from the motorcycle, which seems to be edging closer.

Enough of this… he thinks to himself and presses the accelerator nearly to the floor. What little that can be seen of the surroundings seems to blur as the speedometer climbs quickly over 100mph, then to 110, 120, and steadily upward. The bike is likely faster, but if he is being followed, he wants to be absolutely certain.

As he both dreaded and expected, the bike not only keeps up, but gains on him. Soon, it crosses into the next lane, pulling up even. Pushing the engine to its maximum speed of 155mph, Locke watches the driver guide the bike one-handed, holding out their right hand toward him. He braces himself to see a weapon. Instead, he sees a cell phone. The red Hayabusa keeps up smoothly and in perfect sync with the black Chrysler, allowing his eyes to read the "3 Missed Calls" message that appears on the neon blue lit screen.

A trap.

The thought hasn't been far from his mind, but it was a risk he'd been willing to take. Unfortunately, it left him in a long stretch of near-deserted highway with an enemy on his heels, or in this case, right beside him. The phone disappears. In its place another object is drawn, and the former assassin recognizes the long, smooth silver barrel of a very, very large revolver.

The instinct to hit the brake pedal is the only thing that keeps the bullet from shattering the window and killing him as an ear-ringing report sounds. All four tires screech as the car fishtails dangerously, but it accomplishes the goal of causing the biker to overshoot, already too far ahead and failing to turn yet. Shoving the gearshift into reverse, Koh once again hammers the accelerator and spins the steering wheel. In seconds he's heading in the opposite direction, but too soon does the Suzuki catch up.

Another loud bang, this time accompanied with the sound of a bullet embedding itself into the rear bumper. He easily feels the impact, which only feeds his motivation as he keeps his head as low as possible and uses one hand to draw his own weapon. Please don't hit the gas tank, is the only worded thought in his mind as another bullet strikes the vehicle. Already topped out in mph, he can only hope to get back to shopping district before the motorcycle overtakes him.

That hope, however, is in vain, proven so when it pulls up beside him again. The gun is lifted casually in a gloved hand, but not aimed at him. The rider is toying with him, Locke realizes.

The 300C jerks suddenly to the left, but the attempted sideswipe fails when the hyper-sport bike easily overtakes the sedan, zipping ahead. Knowing he can't outmanoeuvre a motorcycle in a car, the ex-assassin wastes no time rolling down his window and aiming his weapon for the rider, left-handed. Which hand he uses makes little difference, unless he was getting rusty.

Except the assailant, seeing his weapon in time and guessing the exact moment it would fire, smoothly drifts just to the left of his shot. Damn.

Yet ahead of them, Locke notices a clear sign of opportunity. The highway bends sharply to the left, and at the end of that curve he knows there is a road to the right. Both vehicles are forced to slow as they take the turn, but instead of following the highway, the sedan's tires squeal as Koh makes the sharp right turn. Again he floors the gas, seeing the lights of the Koko Marina shopping area not too far ahead.

It takes a minute, but it seems like only seconds before he sees his mistake, and it's two-fold. One, the road all but dead-ends only meters ahead, forking and looping back in on itself around business parking lots. Two, at the end of that road is a figure on a motorcycle, facing him.

He hits the brakes.

The motorcycle roars to life, revving like a chainsaw. In the second he has to think, Locke realizes that the rider would surely die on impact. It takes only another instant to disprove that, when the rider bounces the bike on the pavement, simultaneously stomps the ground with both extended feet, and succeeds in lifting the nearly 500 pound off the ground.

Hands gripping knuckle-white on the steering wheel, Locke can only watch in what seems like slow motion as the spinning front wheel of the bike clears the hood of the car. The rear wheel hits with jarring force, bending the steel beneath it while the front wheel shatters the windshield and grips the top of the car. The airbag deploys and his face whips into it, while subconsciously he's aware of hearing and feeling the bike pass overhead, crumpling steel as it goes.

The car doesn't stop until it hits a tree, further shocking his body. As both it and his mind recover, Locke knows that he has to get out of the vehicle, that he has to get his gun back in his hand and prepare to defend himself. With a groan, he shakes his head, feeling blindly in the darkness for his weapon.

Several meters behind him, the rider dismounts the Hayabusa, not seeming to notice or care about the busted front tire and damaged undercarriage. Carelessly, she lets the bike fall on its side as she arches her back to ease the tension of the wreck from her black-clad body. Keeping the helmet on, Natalie takes her time reloading her weapon and approaching the wrecked sedan. Something in her heart - what there was left of it - makes her pause in mid-step, however.

Kill him. The instinct zings through her skull, shoving against her own will. Kill him, or he's going to kill you, and all this is for nothing, something supplies in justification for the feeling. Was it her mind adding that, or what they had implanted in it? They'll kill him one way or another, like they always do. Better by your hands than what they'll do if they take him.

Yes, it made sense. He was going to die. A bullet will be quick.

She raises the gun she'd used time and again, yet for the first time it'd be to kill someone she knows isn't on the wrong side of things. It'd be to kill someone working against the same people as she had.

Will anyone miss him?

…I don't care.

Keeping her aim on the driver's side door, she moves closer, waiting to squeeze the trigger. As Natalie's steps bring her within a few feet of the vehicle and her eyes peer through the window, the sight in front of her causes her to halt her movement with some surprise.

The target isn't there.

With realisation sinking in fast, Wynshire whirls around quickly but is unable to shield herself in time as the sedan rear door flies open forcefully to catch her in the midsection. While Natalie stumbles back from the attack, Locke slips out, with gun in hand, and immediately fires twice, spurred on by mere instinct. The first shot catches his assailant in the chest while the second - much to his chagrin - crashes where their forehead would have been, had they not been wearing the motorcycle helmet. Even more surprising to the current head of Makai security is how the person manages to remain standing despite taking a bullet directly to the chest.

Not only does his attacker keep her footing, but the lack of blood that should be oozing from the wound isn't there. A bulletproof vest… Locke thinks, and moves as quickly as he can for cover behind the vehicle.

Natalie, however, shows no immediate intent to retaliate. Her head, having been whipped back from the bullet glancing off the top of her helmet, tilts to left, then right, as if a mere crick in the neck is the only pain she suffers. Unwary of the gun still pointed at her from behind the car, she slowly raises her empty hand to pull the damaged helmet off. Long, dark brown hair cascades from beneath it, falling to her thighs as the helmet slips from her careless grip.

Locke's eyes widen as he recognises the face of Mien. In the next moment his mouth sets in a grim line; she is, at this moment, a far cry from the woman who'd competed in the tournament. Cold blue eyes stare at him with no feeling as she casually lifts her revolver to fire.

Locke doesn't give Wynshire the opportunity, discharging a third bullet at her head. Wynshire's head dips to the left, inhumanly fast, and the rest of her body follows in suit, completely dodging the shell, and darts forward whilst firing in retaliation. Koh dives to the right, towards the right side of the car just as the rear-door window shatters outwards from a second revolver shot, near his new position. Reaching for the rear door, he pulls it open, using it as cover, then sends a shot through the window gap.

His target moves fluidly beneath his aim as she rushes toward him, propelling herself into a low drop kick against the door with enough momentum to snap it past the threshold of its hinge. Knocked backward as the door nearly slams into the side of car, Locke scrambles to move as another deafening shot hits the ground where he'd just been.

Two more shots, then she has to reload, he tells himself, familiar enough with guns to recall the .454 having only a five shot capacity. He runs around the mangled front of the car and the tree embedded in it, dropping as soon as he has enough cover and firing at her again as she attempts to move around the vehicle. This time, she doesn't move fast enough, and the shot grazes her right arm.

She ducks for cover, but he can hear her moving along the grass, slowly making her way around. He moves in the opposite direction, feeling for a spare clip, an instinct left over from days long past. A fruitless one, for his ammo is lost somewhere inside the wreck. Locke knows he can't continue a fight like this… and he knows she is probably reloading as she takes her time.

Taking a necessary chance, he gauges her position and dives over the hood of the car, just in time to look down the long barrel of her gun.

Locke's hand comes up to catch her wrist just as she squeezes the trigger, his reflexes saving his life as the gun discharges barely an inch to the left of his head. The sound makes his ear ring and ache and the heat of the powder flash burns the side of his face, but he ignores both and keeps his twisting grip on her wrist to drive the butt of his gun into the joint of her elbow, forcing her to relinquish her grip on the weapon. It falls to the ground, but just as he moves to point his own weapon at her, she catches his gun hand and yanks him forward into a sharp elbow to the solar plexus.

The gun falls and the former assassin crumples, his lungs so constricted by the force of the blow that, for a few seconds, robs him of breath or movement. Dark eyes look at his attacker, wide in shock. How can she hit so hard with so little momentum?!

Natalie stands and kicks his weapon out of his reach. During the time she could be recovering her gun, she merely stands over him and stares with empty eyes, traces of thought somewhere behind her cool gaze.

Kill him. He's a threat to you now, even aside from your mission.

Locke recovers enough breath to cough his words out. "They're... making you do this, aren't they?" He pushes himself along the ground, little by little, working his way closer to her gun as she seems content to stall. "You're the one with the pets in the hotel... I don't imagine you're really like this."

Any reaction he hopes for doesn't outwardly appear. His right hand darts for the gun... only to have her booted heel come down on his fingers.

He has no time to register the pain in his hand, for the next instant finds him on his back, courtesy the other boot against his left shoulder. Persisting against the pain, Locke quickly flips himself back upright, bringing up his guard in time to block a punch that sends sharp pain all the way to his shoulder, numbing his arm for a moment. Regardless, he keeps up his defense as Mien lashes out with machine-like precision and tirelessness.

This continues only a few moments before his ability to keep his guard is worn down and he is driven back against the car. Letting his arms fall, he slumps against the rear left fender. Natalie's left leg arcs toward him, but in a swift show of continued endurance, Locke spins out of the way to let her foot collide with the metal. The metal that crumples around her foot delays her just long enough for him to do something he hasn't done in a long time. He needs to stop her fast, and this is the only way.

Cupping his hands before him, Locke calls upon his chakra, channeling it between his palms in a brightly sparking sphere of gold that bathes the area in orange light. Taking a step closer to her, he throws both hands forward and down, driving the energy into the ground.

"RAGING STORM!!"

Instantly, a pillar of light erupts from around their feet, enveloping both of them in a maelstrom of energy and debris. As the immense energy fizzles out, Koh pants and takes a few steps away from his attacker and the car. She lies on the ground, unmoving for a moment. Keeping wary eyes on her, he moves toward his gun, but is stopped halfway when - to his disbelief - she pushes herself off the ground without any apparent signs of pain or fatigue. In fact, when she looks at him, it's with a dark gleam in her eyes that's more chilling than the coldness of before. What the hell did they do to her...? There's no way she could have been like this before.

Already drained and injured not only from the damage she dealt, but the wreck she caused, Locke turns and rushes for his gun. A hand clenching the back of his shirt stops him. With deadly force, she slings him against the rear driver's side door. A grunt is forced from Locke as his back crunches into the biting steel and he feels his body groan under the strain. Koh slumps down, barely able to stand, and Natalie grabs and drives his head backwards into already-cracked window, shattering the glass.

With slender fingers fisted firmly in his hair, Wynshire drags Koh out of the indented door and slings his body over the top of the trunk. He struggles, but the attempts to free himself are too weak. Locke groans in pain as he's picked up and slammed into the unforgiving metal again and again, until the trunk begins to give under the force. After bashing his head into the vehicle twice more, Natalie is finally satisfied once his body becomes limp and unmoving.

She walks around the car to retrieve her weapon, turns and points it at his head. There was only one bullet left. One bullet was all she would need.

Natalie, a voice calls to her. It sounds like his voice, but it can't be. She knows he's dead and gone. Would he want her to stop this?

Natalie!

He'd never gotten the chance to see the ugly side of her... and it's better that way, she decides. It's better that he never knew what she'd be willing to do for revenge. For survival, something in her mind reminds her, but she ignores it. She cocks the hammer and slides her finger over the trigger...

"Natalie!!"

No... that sounds too real.

She turns, gun pointed at the source of the voice. Only the lights of the few businesses in the vicinity and the moonlight illuminate anything, but it's plenty enough to see the person calling her name. Blue eyes lose all their coldness in wide disbelief, shock and perhaps fear. It can't be, he simply can not be here... now...

-*-

"Dr. Noiv!"

"Yes, I know," the scientist responds snappily, eyes watching the monitor carefully.

"We may have a problem…"