Once again I own zero percent of either one of these properties. So don't expect any of this bleeding into the canon of the games. Also be as constructive as you can be when you review, i'm not the best author I can be so whatever you can suggest to better my stye is greatly appreciated.
Chapter 2 : When The Man Comes Around
Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 stared unflinchingly at the bodies of the enemy combatants that surrounded him. It been years since he last killed a human being; He forgot how easy it was, how weak they were and how slow they moved.
How little effort it took to kill them was a stark difference to killing brute chieftains, Sangheili Zealots, or Pure Flood Forms. It was so quick and easy, he might have felt guilty, normally he would have. He and his fellow Spartans took an oath to protect humanity, an oath he took seriously ever day of his life.
But these men? The ones he had been showing no mercy towards since the fighting started? They caused the master chief to feel something he hadn't felt in years.
Pure Unadulterated Hatred
All these men. They didn't deserve to be called human. These were not the same people he swore to defend from the covenant forces that glassed planets or the flood, Which threatened every living thing in the galaxy. These men were not Human.
These men were nothing; these men were less than nothing.
These men were scum
These men had committed crimes so utterly monstrous, so depraved, that the mere thought made his blood boil with cold fire.
Innocents. Children. These things had killed hundreds and abducted dozens for their own sick gains. Nothing seemed to be sacred for these animals.
It was Draco III all over again. But worse. So, so much worse.
Worse because it wasn't the Covenant doing it, it wasn't the enemy intent to wipe humanity out because of some perverse religious dogma. No, it was other humans doing it to their own people.
He would not let rage take him, however. No, rage never helped. It was just anger. Insane, Blind, justifiable and volatile as it may be, It was still anger nonetheless. It would make him sloppy, get him to make stupid mistakes.
Still, though, the image stayed in the back of his head, playing on repeat over and over again, the images searing into his memory.
The Master Chief drew his massive assault rifle and reloaded. Not a single one of these men were leaving this compound alive.
Hidden Base, Central America...
Cameron Vinyard considered himself a hard man.
He was a big, mean, tough, violent ex-con who enjoyed hurting people.
It was the reason why he was here in the jungle doing things a decent human being wouldn't dream of doing in a hundred years. Luckily He was not a "decent" human being, and he had always been proud of that. He enjoyed hurting people, always have, Ever since he was a kid he enjoyed beating weaker children while they were down and taking whatever he wanted.
A couple trips to juvie should have straightened him out into a law abiding citizen, it didn't. All it did was allow Cameron to discovered how he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing.
His arrest record must have oozed with evil deeds. Five counts of murder, twelve counts of rape, three counts of kidnapping and dozens of assaults, And those were just the ones they knew about.
It was why he was accepted with open arms into the white nation, the worst Aryan Prison gang in North America. It was why his name was still whispered in the cells of whatever prison held him, and it was why he had the connections to get this cushy gig in the jungle, killing and raping to his hearts content.
So with that said, it was because of all those reasons and many others that Cameron"Cross" Vinyard, convicted murderer and rapist, proud sadist, and an all around cruel and savage man found himself fearing for his life, hiding in the dark praying to whatever god that would listen.
'Our Father, who art heaven hallowed be thy name,..." Cameron whispered to himself as he heard the sounds of gunfire get closer and closer. The sounds of his brother in arms dying quick and violent deaths at the hands of their attackers.
The room was dark, the building lost power when the attack initially started. He thought of calling in for reinforcements, for all the help it would do. The Compound held over one hundred men, hardened and trained men who had seen the horrors of battle. Men who were used to violence and death.
The same men who were being slaughtered like animals in their vain attempt to fight back.
"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done" he continued as another explosion ripped through the facility.
It was just another night an hour ago. A couple of guys bitching about guard duty, a few guys talking about the latest haul from the last village. Complaints about the amount of noise those little brats were making in their cages. Talks about what each guy was gonna do to those who would stop crying about "mommy" and "daddy".
A few of them needed to be made an example of for the rest of them. The commander had yelled something fierce when he found out about it. Something about no one paying for "damaged merchandise."
Then everything went to hell.
They had lost power first. The main power lines for the building hade been severed and the emergency generators torn to shreds. Their radios went down next, and then guys started dropping like flies.
The first body they found looked like it was torn to shreds by some violent and powerful animal. A massive hole where their hearts would have been seen as the killing blow, if it wasn't for the man's skull being crushed into mush.
A few of the others even threw up at the sight
But there was one little detail everyone was too distracted to take notice of. Something or someone had taken the dead man's weapon.
And that's when the shooting started
"On earth as it is in heaven." he cried out, tears running down his face as the unknown assailants came closer and closer, the screams of his comrades covering up the assailants footsteps.
They had ripped through their defenses like they weren't even there. They were quick and organized, zipping in and out of the hallways like ghosts, leaving piles of corpses in their wake.
Their movements couldn't be tracked, but they seemed to know all of theirs, every attempted offensive maneuver was neutralized before it even started.
They thought sticking together would be the best option, cover each others back so no one could sneak up on them. They thought to barricade themselves and to blitz whoever was doing this when they came to them. It seemed like it was the best course of action.
That was until they realized that the concrete and steel walls of their bunker did little to protect them from the onslaught.
"Give us today our daily forgive us our debts" his whole body trembled with each labored breath he took. He gripped his rifle like a security blanket, like a child hiding from the boogeyman.
These things were exterminating them one by one, no mercy and no remorse. Like an angry God showing its displeasure for their sins.
The longer he stayed here his chances of survival luck were on his side, he could sneak around the enemy unit and get his hands on a hostage. If everything went according to plan that was, he might just get himself out of here alive.
Or he may get shot in the back of his head the second he left his hiding spot.
"As we also have forgiven our debtors." the man bolted from his spot, staying low to the ground and quiet as he darted from wall to wall as he saw the level of carnage that previously went unseen.
Bodies littered the hallways, torn to pieces from the gunfire, contorted and broken like they got ran over by a runaway freight train. While the only light in the halls illuminated from the red fire caused by the ensuing explosions.
The room was quiet, with only his footsteps and labored breaths reaching his ears, but even then he felt he wasn't alone. Like he was in the crosshairs of an alpha predator, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Suddenly as he darted from one wall to another, pain enveloped his entire being. A single bullet shot out from the fire that hit him square in the back, the impact snapping his spine like a twig.
"And lead us not into temptation" he whimpered as the gunshot combined with his momentum of his sprint through him against the wall with enough force to cloud his vision.
Through the haze of his blurring vision and the surrounding fire, he saw it. The monster who had been stalking him through the halls. It walked through the fire as if it was immune to the heat as he came closer and closer.
It was huge, easily 7 feet tall with immensely broad shoulders that seemed to span the width of the hallway. But even with its more detailed features shrouded in the darkness, he could still notice, olive green and pure black alternating in smooth and bulky armor plating all over its body.
In a single massive stride, the thing was in front of him, it's great form towering over him like he was a child.
The Giants face... oh god its face.
Where an ordinary man's face should have been, there was only a golden mirror that almost reflected the fear and dread filled vision of the man back to him.
Without a word or even a sound the thing lifted the heavy assault rifle up like it weighed nothing and pointed at his face
"But deliver us from evil" Cameron nearly choked, as he closed his eyes tight.
And then all the pain stopped
Unknown Location 7:30 A.M.
"Please state your name and password" a synthesized female voice spoke
"Victor Donovan, a man chooses, a slave obeys."
"Password excepted voice recognition excepted, good afternoon Professor Donovan."
Donovan was silent as the first of four steel doors opened in front of him. He always thought such security was necessary for his research, as a man of science the thought of anyone getting their hands on and potentially destroying his life's work would drive him insane if he hadn't spent a small fortune in protecting his work.
Retinal scan, DNA blood test, fingerprint scan followed soon after as three more equally think metal doors slid open allowing Donovan access into his spacious office and a private laboratory.
"But, of course, it's equally possible that even these won't be able to protect me from whatever is coming," He thought to himself as he sat down.
Damage reports, news reports, cancellations, private emails from business partners, financiers, and potential clients detailing their displeasure with the situation and demands for him to meet.
The past 48 hours had been a nightmare to say the very least
The attack on the milia compound had not only left some of his more powerful partners crippled, but it was also a blow to the faith his other associates had in Donovan's creations. He had marketed the alphas to different governments around the world as the perfect weapon, the next step in the evolution of warfare, And to fall victim to a surprise military strike by a still unknown party was a blow he still found difficult for his reputation to recover from.
His computer monitor showed the newest news report on the child hostages returning home and how different organizations and governments were taking credit for the act.
"well, you look like crap" A voice shook the doctor out of his train of truly see his flesh and blood staring at him.
His son had played a huge role in the advancement of project alpha and continued to work towards the completion of phase 4 of the project.
"I haven't slept since the reports have come in; I'm surprised you look so chipper this morning after your trip."
"I was always a morning person."
"What did you gather from our friends in South America?
"Nothing. No private or commercial aircraft within a hundred miles of the base, no vehicle tracks leading to or from the compound. None of the hostages saw anything concrete, talks about a giant robot man or something or other. And then, of course, is the fact that there were no survivors which put a hamper on identifying anyone."
"So we have nothing to go on. disappointing but not surprising" Donovan spoke as his attention retreated towards his computer screen.
"So what's the theory? The ninjas or the Douglas Bitch?" The young man spoke as he sat down in front of his father.
"Cristie has been keeping tabs on Miss Douglas for awhile now, she's made no unusual moves as of late, I doubt she knows what we are planning."
"Someone does. And they're attacking our customers. If we don't retaliate our rep is going to be in the trash."
"We're going to have to find out who did it first before we can retaliate against them son. And in case you have forgotten, guns are not exactly the ninjas forte."
"So what do you suggest we do?"
"Business as usual."
Downtown Las Vegas 2:00 PM
Cortona hummed to herself as she digitally drove through the seemingly endless web pages and servers of the 21st-century Internet. Normally the number of web pages and websites would be too much information for an ordinary human to fully process.
Luckily Cortona was neither "ordinary" or "human" as she collected and categorized every piece of information she could get her nonphysical hands on.
Everything from the most classified military operations to the Twitter account to an overrated reality starlet, nothing was free from her grasp.
They had taken up residence in a warehouse previously owned by a weapons manufacturer who stocks had recently plummeted to record lows and have been liquidating their assets as quickly as they possibly could.
So fast, in fact, they didn't look much further than the initial bid of a company that didn't exist more than a few hours ago. A couple of hacked bank accounts of Wall Street executives funneled through a dozen or so different banks and companies later, and Cortona and her Spartan found themselves the proud owners of their very own weapons stockpile.
As she read up on the news of the day, her spartan worked meticulously on his armor trying to repair the damage from intergalactic combat with centuries outdated technology.
"Are we gonna talk about it, John?" for what seemed like hours. John has been particularly quiet since after the firefight, hell he made his usual stoic attacker's like a barrel of laughs by comparison.
"Nothing to talk about," he said matter of factly as he continued taking apart the 21st century most technologically advanced weapons tech and found them more and more wanting.
"You killed those men," Cortona said as she bypassed a firewall protecting nuclear codes like they weren't even there.
"They needed to be stopped."
"Brutally I might add."
"They were Child murderers."
"I do not disagree with the decision John, I'm just stating the obvious." she said as she searched through stock market analysis from the past decade.
"So what's it feel like hooking up your power armor to an I phone charger?" Cortona said
"Like field repairs, just slower and clunkier. It going to have to do, for now, there wasn't as much in this warehouse as I would have hoped."
"Hey, it was short notice you neanderthal, cut a lady some slack."
"So what are we looking at."
"Well the group you smeared against the walls a couple of hours ago were a well-funded and heavily armed terrorist organization, highly dangerous for people who aren't you. Like what you saw at their compound, they do the whole rape, kill, pillage and burn thing over the poor and weak of both south and central America. Now that I've done some more research on these guys you did a public service wiping these guys off the map."
"That's not all is there?"
"Afraid not. They might just be a single cell of a greater threat out there. Politicians, law enforcement, Fortune 500 companies, terrorist organizations, third world dictators, you name it they're connected, in fact, they all have a common friend."
"And who's that."
"Dr. Victor Donovan, the former head of the Developmental Science Department of DOATEC. Current location is unknown. He's got his fingers in the pockets of dozens of different organizations, legal or otherwise all around the world."
"Former head?"
"Yeah, he was ousted from his department position and as the companies' majority leadership by the current CEO Helana Douglas, Eldest daughter of the organization founder Fame Douglas.
he's been in the wind ever since no one's seen him in public for over two years."
"so we're dealing with a ghost."
"have some faith in me you barbarian, give me a few days to lock down some concrete leads and we can track a couple more of his allies down. we take down enough of them we'll force him to come out of hiding."
"So what's the plan?"
"well-shooting people indiscriminately might get some additional attention from people. no one's going to cry for a couple of child kidnapping terrorists, but maybe, I don't know, not shoot guys in the head for awhile."
"I'll try my best."
"Speaking of which maybe it wouldn't be best to go out in public with your armor, besides it still needing work on it, you'll sit out like a sore thumb in a half ton suit of armor."
"What do you suggest?" the prospect of not wearing his Mjnoir armor set him on edge slightly. after so many years of battle and constant use, it had become almost like a second skin for the master chief.
If it was for the mission, he'd do it, but he wouldn't like it.
"Well, I have a couple of ideas, first off, we get you some fresh clothes from this planets internet, and since we're going to be stuck here for a while, we're going to have to make you a new identity. I'm talking birth certificates, social security number, financial records, the whole 9 yards. Less chance for them to suspect you fell from the sky."
"Seems like a lot of work."
"Maybe for someone like you but trust me, all I need is a couple of hours and no one will be able to tell you from the locals, on paper that is at least. "
New York City 4:00 PM
"Getting a little sloppy aren't you Mila?" Tina Armstrong, the Queen of Modern wrestling, said as she caught the kick aimed at her torso as she then through her would be assailant towards the other side of the ring.
"Just making sure you're still awake," Mila grinned, sweaty, dancing back and forth on her feet while tossing a few quick jabs that Tina blocked with her forearms. While Mila stood just a couple inches shorter than Tina, The Texan Wrestler seemed to tower over her. While Mila's athletic body was impressive and strong, it couldn't compare with her opponent in regards to raw power. Tina muscles were powerful and were packed with more physical strength that had the right to be in her lithe frame,
The difference in strength became more and more pronounced as the spar continued. Mila had to stick and move to even have a chance with the Texas superstar. Her speed and conditioning would be her key to victory.
"Oh, I'm plenty awake, darlin'!" Tina stuck her tongue out teasingly and then sent a powerful kick into Mila's midsection that sent the girl flying back into the ropes.
"Ok, yeah, I had that one coming." Mila gasped for breath as she sprang back at Tina, planting her gloved fist into her stomach.
"Oooof!" Tina doubled over, the air knocked out of her. She staggered back a step, grinning at Mila in approval. "That's my girl!"
"Have you thought about..." Tina ducked under an attempted right jab and then quickly jumping back from a follow-up round kick, "...if you're going to..." she lunged forward in a tackle that Knocked the Spaniard onto her back, "join this year's tournament?" the blonde's southern drawl spoke as she moved to give her fallen sparring partner a helping hand back to her feet.
Both of them feeling their arms and legs on fire, Tina nodded wordlessly at the young MMA fighter to call off their practice session.
"I can't see why not" Mila spoke," I'm twice the fighter I was last year, thanks to you."
"Hey now, don't sell yourself to short, you did the hard stuff, I was just there for advice," Tina spoke while taking a chug of water.
"Does that mean you were serious what you said about not joining this year?" Mila said as the two fighters rounded the corner of the dressing room.
"Careful now," Tina said with a laugh" You might start sounding like ma daddy."
Tina, despite her normally positive attitude momentarily soured at the thought of her father. She loved him, she really did, and she knew all he wanted was what he thought was best for her. But for the life of her, she needed a break from the usual craziness that always erupted from these tournaments.
And if Zack ever got her an another island again, so help her she'd...
"But that's an argument for another day," Tina said as she shook herself out of her stupor. " Hurry it up girl, Lisa meeting us at the restaurant, we got reservations in an hour, and she'd be as mad as a catfish at a fish fry if we're late."
Las Vegas Strip 11:00 PM
"You're one beautiful woman my little flower, would you care to share a drink with this poor little love stricken man?" Brad Wong, the master of the drunken fist, spoke in a voice he thought was seductive.
" I'm sorry, but I can't leave my friend here all alone," the attractive brunette said, enjoying the reaction she got from flirting with the intoxicated martial artist.
The restaurant was loud and busy. Despite the time of night, the crowds seemed to pay little mind with dozens of men and woman occupied the booths and bar eating and drinking to their hearts content.
Two of these patrons, however, had their minds on something else entirely from the food and drink in front of them.
While one was busy drinking himself into an early grave while trying to get two young women to lower themselves to his level, the man's younger companion sat silently counting the minutes down before his drunk traveling companion gets them both into trouble.
Like he always does.
"Come on beautiful, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, in fact, my friend here can keep her company."
"Keep me out of this Brad," the blonde young man said with a sigh, trying to control a headache he felt coming on.
"Oh, what's wrong? Don't you like girls? Or are you still stuck on that ninja girl, what was her name Ayima?, Ayame?..."
"It's Ayane, and no I'm not stuck on miss Ayane" the redness of the young man's face screamed the opposite of his words.
"Well why don't you join me with these young ladies, it would do a man your age some good" the intoxicated man said wrapping his arms around both of the giggling young women
"I would love to, except I think their boyfriends might have something to say about it," he said as his attention was directed to the group of a dozen or so men walking towards them.
"Oh good, they brought friends too." Eliot thought to himself
The men surrounded the booth occupied by the two DOA combatants and the young women with bad intentions. But like a school of goldfish trying to intimidate a shark, their show of bravado did little to make Elliot feel anything except annoyance.
They were young, a few years older then Eliot if even that. They strutted around the restaurant like they owned the place and if their clothes, jewelry, and the way the bouncers and management seemed to pay them no notice were any indication, they might have, or, at least, their parents did.
They all wore the same Greek letters on their shirts, signifying that they belonged to the " .Alpha" fraternity house on the local college campus a few miles away.
"Jessica!?" the leader of the group, wearing a cream colored shirt that must have cost as much as most peoples rent screamed at them "what the hell babe? what are you doing with these losers?!"
"Mike, we broke up like a month ago let it go" answered the brunette in a huff as she glared at the man now identified as Mike.
"Okay guys," Eliot said standing up "why don't we all relax and calm down."
"I'm not calming down pretty boy," the young man said as he entered Elliot's personal space. "and there's nothing you're gonna do to change that."
"I'm sorry, but if you continue to act like this, I'm going to be forced to retaliate" the young blonde answered, trying to diffuse the situation before he was compelled to do something drastic.
"What are you gonna do huh? They're two of you bitches and like 12 of us. In fact..." he said as he threw a sluggish right hook towards the British teen, a slow right hook that was quickly blocked by Eliot's left palm.
It was at this moment, Eliot assumed, the slightly drunk college students realized that they had fucked up royally.
"Okay," Eliot said with a sigh as he responded with the attempted assault with an earth shattering palm thrust to his would-be attacker's stomach with enough force as to send him flying into the crowd of men behind him.
Then, everything went downhill
"Another day another bar room brawl, if you ladies would excuse me this won't take too long" he muttered as he stumbled out of his seat, his statement punctuated by the sound of his British companions fist connecting with one of the fraternity brothers jaw. Through the haze, the drinks he had consumed minutes before his instincts picked up a flash of movement from out of the corner of his eye. A sudden duck protected him from a sloppy left hook from his attacker.
An erratic punch followed by lightning quick leg sweep had ended the fight before it started, as the dodged and weaved through the mob of attackers.
Under normal circumstances, Brad would have ended the fight in a single blow, This group of roided out morons with too much testosterone and not enough common sense in them weren't much of a treat. But then again he wanted to show off in front of his two new friends.
If he played his cards right after this, he might even go home with the both of them. Not like Elliot would complain much.
Brad dodged and weaved in between the mob of men, not even bothering with attacking himself, intent on allowing them to hit themselves in the vein attempt to harm him.
He ducked a vicious left that connected with another man trying to hit him with a chair. He weaved around a front kick that hit another man straight in the gut knocking him the floor.
Said floor was getting covered more and more with a mixture of unconscious frat brothers and broken bits of chairs and furniture. But seeing their friends and brothers getting beaten like red headed step children seemed to sap the strength and courage the group originally had.
"Enjoying yourself Eliot?" Brad asked as he lounged on the floor, choking a struggling man with his thighs as he watched the young Brit drive a knee into the chin of an attacker, knocking him out like a light.
"good exercise" the young teen replied, as he knocked another man out with a perfectly timed elbow to the jaw, a sickening sound emanating from the man as he hit the ground.
Another man in a green polo shirt with a bad spray on tan charged at the blond Englishman only to be met halfway by a devastating cartwheel kick that threw him towards an empty table, smashing it to pieces.
Brad kicked at another attackers leg, shattering it and throwing him off balance before performing a controlled fall, wiping his sturdy legs out that not only knocked the man down but had the added effect of knocking the breath out of his lungs. The drunken master stayed on the ground in a relaxed posture with his head propped on his hand, smiling and winking at the two amazed onlookers.
Two more men charged at him, one with a broken beer bottle the other with a pool cue ready to inflict as much damage as possible. Brad, waiting for the last possible moment to attack, sprung up to a handstand, connected both of his feet to his attacker's heads with enough force to take them off their feet into the air.
Brad then backflipped back to his feet, in a swaggering position as Elliot nailed a high kick to the face of the last standing man sending him spiraling to the ground in a heap.
The whole ballet of violence ended with the dozen unconscious, bloodied and bruised young men littering the floor as there would be victims casually surveyed the carnage their warm up had started.
"I think we might have gone a bit overboard Brad," Eliot said as he casually kicked a chunk of wood.
"Nonsense, young brats like these need to learn a thing or two about NOT FUCKING AROUND WITH STRANGERS," Brad yelled the last bit of his statement at the crumpled form of the group's leader, and the brawls initial aggressor.
Suddenly the front door of the restaurant opened, the sudden noise taking the attention of the two martial artists away from the pile of broken bodies to the restaurants newest patron.
He...He was the biggest man either Eliot or Brad had ever seen. He was just massive, towering over everyone in the building by at least a foot and was head and shoulders taller than either of the two fighters.
It wasn't just his height that was astounding; he was big all over with broad shoulders and limbs as thick as tree trunks. His clothing, which seemed to be able to fit a giraffe comfortably, was stretching at the seams and with his button down shirt sleeves rolled up giving everyone a clear view of his chiseled forearms, massive biceps, and his wide baseball mitt sized hands.
But it wasn't his impressive physique, but rather his paper white skin coupled with the numerous scars crisscrossing over every visible inch of him, that was the most striking thing about him.
He loomed over the downed bodies like an eagle perched on a mountain peak. His hard blue eyes pierced the only two standing men in front of him like he was a sentient force of nature.
With his eyes never leaving the newcomer, Brad shook one of the still conscious men on the ground.
"Hey guy, he a friend of yours?"
"No ... never seen him," he said through broken ribs and cracked jaw.
"Ah, Brad I got a bad feeling about this guy."
"Oh come on, we can handle this And." Brad started "once you've tussled with Armstrong every big man stops being scary by comparison, and besides, those two are eating this up." He said pointing towards the two young women who, unknown to Brad seemed to be more taken by the new man's sudden appearance then they ever had with him.
Elliot watched as Brad took a fresh swig of whatever beverage he had been drinking that night. It was hard to keep up with whatever alcohol he had a taste for that day, but if he had to guess it would have to be that imported sake he had ordered before the bar room brawl had started.
Before the two could react however the man was upon them, quicker than any man that size had the right to be. He ducked to almost ground level, then proceeded to grab Brad by his heels, hoisting him off his feet and throwing him through the same door the giant entered in from a moment ago.
While Eliot was caught off guard, he could do nothing but watch as his traveling companion was chucked like a rag doll out of the building as the giant turned his attention towards him.
Eliot ran towards him fists flying at blinding speeds, realizing this wasn't an ordinary man he was fighting against and that he didn't have to hold himself back like he did with the other men.
Every punch, every kick, however, was blocked or was dodged effortlessly by the unknown man as he moved almost like the laws of physics didn't apply to him.
Despite out weighting Eliot by more than at least one hundred pounds, the man not only kept up with but even seemed to surpass the Englishman's speed.
"His speed," Eliot thought to himself "his reaction time, his reflexes, they're inhuman."
Before Eliot could think more on the subject, he found caught in the Giants vice-like grip as he became the victim of a bone shattering hip toss that propelled him out of the restaurant as he lands unceremoniously next to Brad.
"You know I'm getting a bad feeling about this guy," Brad said as he dusted himself off.
"What makes you say that Brad?." Elliot said as he caught his breath. The flurry of strikes took more stamina out of him than he was comfortable admitting.
They both stood as the giant met them outside, his massive weight and frame didn't make a single sound as he moved in long powerful strides. If anything, he looked more imposing and frightening after his show of freakish strength and speed.
Brad stretched his limbs, trying to get feeling back into his body as he looked towards his companion. Elliots' eyes were filled with determination as he stared at the pale giant across from them. Normally it was the opposite, with Elliot acting as Brads common sense and voice of reason. But give Elliot a chance to prove himself as a fighter and he loses all the sense his master Gen-fu imparted to him.
With a sense of dread, he only got whenever those ninjas were running around Brad slumped into a fighting stance. Eliot followed, knowing full well the only way they would have a shot at taking this guy was to work as a team. But even then he didn't like their chances.
"Oh man, I am so not drunk enough for this."
Two Hours Before...
John hated this.
Walking across the brightly lit street of the city without either his armor or undersuit, John felt utterly exposed. Even the combat knife he kept on his person at all times didn't seem to help much.
After years of war and battle, the concept of a civilian life terrified him
He'd known this was a bad idea, but Cortana had been badgering him since she'd given him the abridged plan of action. Fake identity, fake history, fake life, everything a time warped super soldier would need to fight a secret war against a mad scientist." let me do what I need to do and get your augmented ass out into that city and get some supplies and enjoy it! And I expect details!"
John didn't know exactly what details Cortana was expecting to get. He was just getting clothes and supplies they needed for the next part of their plan. What did she think was going to happen?
He entered the clothing store near closing time, expecting the workers to react hostile towards him for extending their work day. They were however quite happy to see him, however, almost ecstatic in fact.
Two young women, in particular, a blonde in her mid-twenties with deep brown eyes and a black haired girl in her late teens, had been the first ones to offer assistance to him, though they were not the last.
He wasn't quite sure on the style of clothing he needed, just that he needed them in the largest size they carried. The workers, however, were helpful as they volunteered to judge what clothing worked best on him.
He felt uncomfortable somewhat by the attention, but he didn't say anything about it, which seemed to further their enjoyment somehow.
Giggling to themselves when they thought he couldn't hear them. He did hear them, all of it in fact. Which made him want to speed up the process even more than he did originally.
Now that he thought of it the sound of "feminine's giggling" seemed to follow him wherever he went. It was a stark difference from the reactions he received from the Marines when he was in his armor, but still it wasn't something he would call enjoyable.
With his new clothing in hand, he began his return to the warehouse all the while hearing how the female workers " hoped to see him again," when the sound of screaming and crashing filled his ears.
It originated from a bar of some sort; a drunken brawl must have broken out amongst the patrons, but nothing too serious he had hoped. While he never drank himself, he saw how too much alcohol seemed to affect the marines And the ODST he saw on shore leave.
Whatever fight had occurred was over by the time he arrived, with only two of the fifteen brawlers still standing.
The first, who was younger by at least a decade, looked towards him with apprehension, not knowing whether on not reacting was the best course of action.
The older man, however, looked at him as a challenge waiting to be conquered. Whether or not he started the fight was irrelevant at this point, this was the type of man who would prolong hostilities to feed his ego.
His analytic mind taking in every detail in front of him
Two unarmed ahead; in proximity with one another. Apoximatlry three dozen or so onlookers spread throughout the building.
Estimated reaction-time 1-2 seconds;
Multiple bodies and debris hindering their movement and reaction time further. The older of the two hostiles is, the more experienced fighter; intoxicated, reaction time delayed slightly.
But this wasn't a battle zone, this wasn't a fight he needed to get involved with, he could turn around and leave these two to their own devices
"Oh come on, we can handle this guy." the older man started "once you've tussled with Armstrong every big man stops being scary by comparison, and besides, those twos are eating this up."
so they saw him as a hostile, or at least, the silver-haired one did, and he intended to fight him to show off to the young women behind him.
If it wasn't going to be him, it might have been some other unfortunate person who had to deal with him tonight.
It was settled, the older man would need to be eliminated first
A few quick steps, ducking to almost ground level, he grabbed the man by his heels, the Spartan threw the older hostile straight through the door he entered in. Even without his armor, his augmented strength was more than enough to overpower the sloppy drunk quickly enough.
Once the younger hostile caught his bearings, he went on the offensive. His movements were crisp and fluid, with speed that few could match. There wasn't any wasted energy in his movement as he continued to press the assault.
Against normal humans, he would go right through them, which is what John assumed was what happened with the unconscious men that surrounded them.
Unfortunately for the young fighter, John wasn't a "normal human."
Spartan Kelly-087 had called it Spartan-time, a simple code to describe how the augmented senses and superhuman reflexes his brothers and sisters had to anyone, not a Spartan. How the world seemed to slow around them as their brains processed information as fast as a supercomputer.
The lightning quick and agile Xing Yi Quan specialist in front of him moved as slow as a still image to the chief's eyes.
Every strike was blocked or outright dodged, as the young martial artist seemed to become more and more desperate as more and more of his attacks were proven ineffective against his opponent.
Suddenly the Chiefs hand shot out gripping the young man's arm in his vice-like grip as he threw second hostile out of the building as well.
He had decided that taking the fight outside was the best option. While the new location gave his opponents a chance for more maneuverability and a better chance to flank him, it minimized the likelihood that the civilians would get involved.
He stared down the two men as they dropped to their fighting stances, fully intending to continue their fight out in the open. John contemplated his next move; he had already attracted too much attention as it was, and Cortona would have his head if he prolonged this any further.
That meant he'd just have to end the fight quickly
Vegas Strip 11:45 PM
It was a great night to be Zack right now
Hell, who was he kidding? It was always a great night to be Zack. He was on cloud nine as he drove his hot rod red convertible down the highway.
He looked towards the vision of beauty that sat next to him as she handled the leather suitcase in her lap.
"Can you believe it baby?" he sang to the goddess with him "Three hundred thousand dollars on a single hand of poker! Those suits didn't know who they were messing with."
Nicki lounged against the car's leather seat in her pure midnight black cocktail dresses."I can't believe those guys thought they could get one over on you baby."
"Yeah, well, they'll know better than to mess with me next time, not like it's going to help, not with my lucky charm in my passenger seat" Zack boasted as he put his arm around her.
He flashed her a white toothy grin as he began to imagine all the thing he and his lady love were going to do to celebrate their latest string of good luck at the casino. The very idea of those long legs wrapped around him almost made him crash the car in his excitement.
If their luck kept up like this, it would be no time at all before Zack Island 3 became a reality.
But before the festivities were to begin he had a job to do. Much to the chagrin of his companion, he had been forced to mix his business with pleasure during their small vacation. HIs lovely lady Helena had charged him with locating the participants of the DOA tournament and personally inviting them to enter this year's event.
So he got to travel all around the world, eating the best food, staying in the best hotels, and living the high life all on DOATEC dime. Not a bad arrangement he found himself in at the moment.
And luckily he got to take his lady love Nicki with him in his endeavors. A win-win for everyone involved.
And surprisingly, two of said participants had found themselves in one of his favorite cities on the planet. Las Vegas, Paradise City, The gambling capital of the world, Sin City.
His type of town.
So he took advantage of that fact by taking his lady out in the city before he started his official DOA business. And sure he might have gone a bit too far, but all work and no play make Zack a dull boy.
So here he was, driving down the still bright, busy street of paradise to look for two very unordinary fighters with his arms wrapped around a beautiful woman while carrying over a quarter of a million dollars in cash.
"Well now" Zack called out as he parked his car on the side of the road in front of what had once been a high-end restaurant only a little while ago.
"What happened here, babe?"Nickie said as she surveyed the situation. Several ambulances and police cruisers made driving down the back road impossible. Dozens of men were being carted away to the nearest hospital
"Looks like Brad had one hell of a bender, stay in the car sweetie I'll check it out," he said as he parked his car and headed towards the mass of people.
Five minutes later...
The young Xing Yi Quan specialist felt like he had been hit by a colossal, very loud, and outraged truck. He opened his eyes and became momentary blinded by the sudden appearance of the bright flashing red and blue lights that surrounded him.
"Wha-what happened?" he asked as he tried to stop his skull from splitting in two.
"We got our asses kicked" replied his companion nonchalantly as he was being helped to his feet by a vaguely familiar man in a pure white suit of high quality.
"Damn! Both you guys let yourselves get beat by a bunch of punks? I expected more from you two." the man said as Brad leaned into him.
Wait... flamboyant suit, expensive sunglasses, ... was he wearing a purple Ascot?
"What...oh yeah. There was like fifty of them. They just came out of nowhere. I tried to fight back, but pretty boy over here fainted from the sight..."
That's where he knew the man from; he was from the tournament, Zach. Eliot was confused why it had taken him so long to recognized the familiar face, perhaps he got hit harder than he thought.
" So after the men propelled down from one of the roofs and pulled out their shock batons..."
"There was only one man," Eliot spoke, interrupting Brads story before he went off to more fantastical elements
"Come on kid, you say it like that it just sounds sad." Brad gave a defeated sigh
" So one guy did all this?"Zack said waving his arm to the ambulances and police.
"No that was us, the giant showed up right after and beat us up" Brad corrected.
"So let me get this straight. Some angry giant beat both your asses then left? Damn Brad" he said with a laugh" you should have kept up with the whole ninjas with shock batons! It's more believable than that."
"It is the truth.," Eliot said defensively
"Look, if you guys don't wanna tell me that's fine, I'm just here to give you these" Zach said as he handed the two fighters identical envelopes " If you guys are up to it anyway."
"Gee thanks" Eliot said as he gingerly took the envelope
"Well, I'm outta here, my lady friend expects to have some celebrating done and well, I aim to please" Zack spoke as he walked away from them.
"Baby!" Nickie spoke from the car "Are you gonna leave your friends out here alone? They look hurt."
"Oh don't worry about them honey bunny, they can handle themselves."
"Oh come now Zackie," Nickie said as she stepped out of the car "Hey, you guys can get yourselves cleaned up in our hotel room, you look like you got mauled by a bear."
"Nickie..." Zack complained, like a child finding out the toy he wanted was sold out. Eliot, with visible gratitude, walked towards the car, surprise covering his face as Nickie left her spot in the passenger's seat and joined him in the back.
"Thank you very much for your thoughtful actions miss" he said, he was raised to be polite to people, especially women and especially those who went out of their way to help him out like this.
"Oh, such a gentleman. Zack could take a few notes from you cutie" Nickie said with a giggle as wrapped her arm around the blushing teenager.
"Looks like we're going to be spending more time together Zackie," Brad said with a smirk as he limped towards the parked car.
Zack sighed, not enjoying how his night as gone in the last few minutes
He relented with a sigh and half carried half dragged the intoxicated fighter "Just don't bleed on the leather, I just got those seats cleaned."
So yeah read, enjoy, like, review, whatever you crazy kids do with fanfiction nowadays.