Smoked

Los Angeles, July 17th 1984

Sub Zero woke up. He felt the breeze blow his curtains and on his body. Skarlet had left him to go off to work whilst he had the day off. He wondered why Smoke had not got in touch for almost a month before drifting off and thinking of where Reptile could have gotten himself to. Naked, he stretched his legs before sitting up to look for his underwear. Deciding against finding the mysteriously missing boxer shorts, he pulled on Skarlet's silky feeling dressing gown and went over to make some cereal. The fridge was all but empty, yet his red haired partner-in-crime had left him a list inside a cabinet.

"Typical..." he muttered to himself as he took the cardboard box down. A rapturous knocking made the large man almost squeak in terror. "Who the hell?" he said to himself again, as he paced towards the door. Moving an eye against the peep hole, he could see nothing but darkness. Sub Zero could feel ice hardening in his veins, the sharp cold feeling he felt created a knife out of nothing.

"Who's there?" he called.

"We just want a word," came the reply.

'We' could have ranged from two people to a large group. Sub Zero opened the door to two well dressed men. "Can I help you?" Sub Zero asked.

"Hello, sir. We've been searching for you for a very long time."

"Excuse me?" Sub Zero didn't known the men and he was beginning to form theories in his head as to why these two men in black suits were standing here.

"All shall become clear."

Suddenly, a cloud of gas was sprayed into the air and Sub Zero felt his eyes grow heavy immediately.

Rex Manor, July 18th

Shang Tsung opened the door to see a man stood on the front step.

"Yes?" said Tsung to the figure.

"I'm here to see James," said the man.

"Jam-? Oh, you mean Mr. Khan. Who can I say is needing his hospitality?"

The man looked up, "Tell him Walter is here."

"One minute."

Raiden waited and exactly a minute later, Shang Tsung opened the door and ushered him through the foyer and upstairs.

"Sir," Tsung started, "Walter is here."

"Good," Khan replied, waiting for Tsung to leave. "Walter...it's been a long time."

"James...or should I call you Shao Khan?"

Khan turned and grinned, "To you, call me what you like, friend."

Raiden smiled and shook the almost giant of a man's hand. "You've beefed up."

"I try. I must say though, the eighties bore me what else is there to do? It's all videotapes and garish music. What happened to culture?"

"We got old. That's what happened."

Khan waved his hand and poured a drink for himself and Raiden. "Old. You barely look past your thirties."

"Thank the government for that one. I don't quite get the appeal of never ageing. I'd rather die peacefully in my chair; not on the battlefield."

"Still leading the military life are we? I thought as such."

Raiden drank the scotch and lit a cigarette - Khan lit a cigar. "Surprisingly enough, I'm here on business rather than pleasure."

"Bit of bother?" Khan questioned.

"You could say that it could be world ending..."

"Isn't the Cold War about over? I'm sure I've about run out of nuclear rations."

Raiden laughed, "No, James. In fact, it could be getting much hotter - and not even Soviet related."

"Thank Christ, I've had enough of mad Russians. Baraka excluded of course."

"Ah yes, Baraka. How is he?"

"Surviving."

They both laughed. "Say..." Raiden began, "Have you heard of General Stryker?"

Shao Khan glanced up from his drink and looked at the floor, "Why?"

"Because I want to know that you'd be on the right side."

Khan puffed on his cigar and narrowed his eyes, "I'm always on the right side."

"Of a deal, yes. But I mean on the side of 'good' to put it simply."

"I'm an arms dealer, Walt. Right and wrong don't exactly enter my mind as I arm Iranians with Kalashnikovs."

"True, but then again, would you rather be remembered as a 'good' arms dealer, or a world ending one?"

Khan finished his drink, "I don't think anyone will be remembered if the world ended."

"Right again but if someone were to put together an encyclopedia of history up until the nukes rained down, you wouldn't want to be thought of as a right hand of evil, would you?"

"Of course not."

"So...then you're not on Stryker's side?"

Khan blew smoke out of the side of his mouth and answered with a calm, "No."

"Good," said Raiden confidently. "But have you spoken with him at all?"

"No. I want nothing to do with him."

"That's all fine, but I need your help. I need you to help me find the Mortals."

Khan played dumb.

"Don't hide them from me, James. I know you've talked with them before. The US government is more talkative than you'd think. Plus, immunity means nothing if you're not known and feared by at least a few high ranking suits, is it?"

"Okay, I have spoken with them, yes. But the only way I've seen them since is through Quan Chi."

"Through Quan Chi?" Raiden was perplexed.

"He can see through certain peoples minds and can tell if they're still alive."

"Fascinating...mind if I have a word with him?"

"Be my guest."

Bahama Benny's, Miami

Scorpion awoke to the sound of pattering on his walls. Reptile was on the other side practising his crawling abilities, the lizard man hoping he hadn't lost his powers. The two met downstairs in the empty bar, the sun shone through beaded doorways and the sound of birds and waves collided into pleasant blissfulness. Scorpion was still more level-headed than his compatriot, yet he still had time for the parties Reptile craved.

"Ah! There's nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, is there?" Reptile declared, stretching his scaled arms.

Scorpion looked at him and grunted, "We need to get serious about what we're going to do."

"What do you mean? We're settled, we don't need anything else."

Scorpion crept around the bar, careful not to stick to the drink laden floors, "Look around and think for a moment. What if we stay here a decade or so? Then what? Continue to deny that we look exactly the same as we do now? People get suspicious. I get suspicious. It's not a solution."

Reptile folded his arms, "You need to cool off. Relax! You know, like the song!"

"I wish I was back in Guadalcanal..." Scorpion murmured.

"C'mon, let's stay here a few more years, then we move on. I'm not done with the Miami chickas yet!"

"Chickas...? Christ, you sound older than me."

Reptile flexed a bicep, "Babes, honeys, whatever! They want me, for me."

"Then why don't you tell them you're a scrawny, lizard beast who smells like shit and eats human flesh?"

"ATE human flesh. I don't eat it any more," Reptile announced.

Scorpion chuckled, "Yeah, because I'm sure saying you're a former cannibal will go down really well. That, and the ugliness."

The Yellow Yank began clearing up bottles whilst Reptile swept and mopped the floors. A few youngsters would try and spy inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the weird monster that could change shape, only to be met with a swift shooing from Scorpion. He missed his wife and daughter and despite it being forty years since Rain killed them, he still had the occasional nightmare. Despite telling Reptile time and time again that he had a plan to track down the Grims, he actually had not, but he wanted to believe it.

"Do you think Smoke ever thinks about us?" Reptile asked.

Scorpion stopped on the cellar steps and thought for a few seconds, "I would imagine he does. We were a large part of his life. Same with Kevin."

"What about Brian?"

Scorpion froze, "What about him? He's dead."

"I mean..." Reptile swallowed, "Do you think Kevin ever thinks we played a part in it? You thought he'd...you know."

"Smoke always told me that I shouldn't tell him if I ever saw him after 'Nam."

"Maybe it's better to clear the air?" Reptile suggested.

"Maybe it's better for you to shut your mouth and do you goddamned job?"

Reptile recoiled, "Jeez, you made your point. Sorry."

Scorpion sighed, "No. Don't be. It's my mess to clean up, not yours."

"Does that include this mess?" Reptile joked. Scorpion threw a bottle at him with a smile on his face.

Haven

"General, Rain will arrive shortly."

"Excellent," Stryker said to the air controller.

Stryker couldn't wait to hear his right hand man's report from the Persian Gulf. He saw Rain step out of a helicopter and march towards Stryker's office. The doors were opened for him by assistants. Stryker sat with two glasses of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes for his long time cohort. Rain was dressed in Haven's personal military garb; dark grey fatigues with a light blue armband that displayed rank - on his face he wore a violet face scarf that covered his mouth and nose.

"Benjamin," greeted the general.

"Sir," greeted Rain.

"Sit down, you've earned it."

Rain took his seat and pulled down his scarf, pulling a cigarette from the carton and lighting up immediately.

"Tell me," started Stryker, "Are the Iraqis really using chemical weapons?"

"You got that right," Rain confirmed, taking a hefty drag of the cigarette.

"Saddam is a ruthless sonofabitch...I like his thinking though. Brutal but effective."

Rain stopped moving and stared at his superior, "He's almost too clever for his own good. He'll get his comeuppance eventually. People hate dictators - oddly enough."

"True, true. I know that all too well. I fought Hitler and I won."

Rain took another drag, "Did the Mortals even come into contact with the upper echelons of the Third Reich?"

Stryker let out a small laugh, "They couldn't hit a bulls ass with a shotgun, let alone sneak into Berlin and take him out."

"I bet you wanted them to though, didn't you?"

"What can I say?" Stryker shrugged, "I'm old fashioned. Strike hard or don't bother. That's why I suggested Scorpion and Reptile to the CIA. They wanted Kennedy gone, so I just said, 'Kill him, use these two freaks' and they agreed."

Rain laughed and handed over his report. As Stryker read through it, Rain began to tell him about his 'journey', "The Gulf is a little...different to what I'm used to dealing with - sand, lack of water and civilians everywhere. It's not like the good old days...you can't just walk down a street without seeing a kid running around carelessly. I'm going to try and see what more we can do to help out."

Stryker looked up briefly, "How much are the two sides offering for services now?"

"It's in the report, but I think the Iranians will give us contracts ranging from ten thousand dollars to the more high risk one hundred and fifty. The Iraqis - or should I say Hussein - are more lavish. twenty five grand for the small fry stuff up to two fifty for destroying bunkers and surveillance stations. I just know that they've got big risk and a big reward."

"Have the other Grims suggested anything unusual?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

Stryker stood and poured himself another drink, "Have they witnessed attacks deliberately aimed at us? Ignoring the sand dwellers and aiming specifically at them?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Besides, Tremor already has a lot of it covered."

"I think either the Americans or...someone else is trying to have a shot at us."

Rain swivelled in his chair, "The US wouldn't. They have too much respect for you."

"I'm an old man; they don't care for me. Besides, I have the upper hand on them. They don't have any experiments as far as I'm aware."

Rain got another cigarette out of the box, "How can you be sure?"

"Some of our tech-babble scientists can access their files."

"What about Scorpion? How do you know he isn't planning something?"

Stryker's hands tensed up, age spots smoothed the top of his skin, at seventy eight, he was desperate for the immortality seemingly granted to the Mortals and Grims. "The fact of the matter is, it would be easy to dismiss him, but a man with rage like that...my god. He's an almost unstoppable killing machine." Rain felt undervalued but listened as Stryker continued. "He's near perfect. I won't lie. A near perfect assassin." The general glanced at Rain, "Not as deadly as you though."

Rain grinned and said, "Thank you, sir."

6.03 pm.

Darkness surrounded Sub Zero, he had awoken with a frightful suddenness that took his breath away.

"Hello?!" he called out, hearing his voice echo across a huge distance. Bats screeched and fluttered off in droves and the almost deafening sound of water suddenly blocked the ice man's ears. Without comprehending immediately, Sub Zero soon discovered that he had a mask of some kind on his head yet his hands were free. He stood up and pulled the bag off his face, feeling himself jump as he saw a youthful man stood in front of him.

"Hello," greeted the man.

Sub Zero moved to strike, the man unflinching as another hand seemed to appear out of nowhere to stop the blow; it was a familiar face.

"Smoke?!"

Tomas Vrbada nodded to his friend in confirmation. His hair seemed out of place - as if it hadn't been groomed or washed properly in weeks. "Yes, Kevin. It's me."

Sub Zero twisted his hand into a clasping motion and pulled his old friend towards him, they hugged and laughed before Sub Zero started questioning his brother in arms. "Who's this then? What the hell has been going on?"

The man who had first appeared before Kevin stood forward and bowed, "Greetings, sir. My name is Abrahem and this is where we train."

"Train?"

Smoke stepped in, "I shall explain this to him, Cyrax."

Sub Zero backed up, "Cyrax? He just said his name w-"

"I'll explain it to you. Come on, take a seat," Smoke motioned to rocky wall that surrounded the streaming, cascading waterfall.

"What is going on, Smoke? Please shed some light on my otherwise dull life," Sub Zero admitted to his old friend.

"Just over a month ago, I was with Deborah in Times Square, she collapsed as th-"

"Is she all right?!" Sub Zero interrupted.

"Her cancer came back." Smoke saw that Sub Zero was visibly distraught. "I've put her in a private room in hospital, I visit her every day."

Sub Zero looked to his friend and said, "Good. But you still haven't told me what all of this is."

"I'm getting to that," Smoke adjusted his new mask, it was larger and covered the bottom half of his head. The gunmetal grey looked newly polished and barely combat experienced. "She collapsed so I headed home and gathered my thoughts. The phone started ringing and naturally, I answered it expecting it to be one of the kids. Next thing I know, the wall I'm looking at just disappears and I wake up outside this very temple."

"Temple?" Sub Zero exclaimed almost excitedly.

"Yes, temple. This is the top of the ruin, there is nothing above us apart from the waterfall which falls straight down into the catacombs below. Anyway, I wake up outside and curiously peek through the doors. A huge, empty hallway was right ahead so I call out only to have people attack me. I take them on and hurt a few before they suddenly stop and bow to me."

"Like you're their king or something?"

"Something like that. Basically, they introduced themselves as the Lin Kuei or 'the Forest Demons'. They have been following our adventures for a long time."

"And you just believe them and leave it at that?"

"Unlike you, my good friend, I am more trusting than most."

Sub Zero stood up and took in a view of the waterfall and the hole it fell through - people trained with each other on lower floors and seemed to speak about anything and everything.

"Why us?" the ice man finally asked.

"Because we can do things most people cannot."

"But...but we can't go back. You of all people were most vocal about it."

Smoke looked at the thick wooden pillar beside him and rested a palm on it, "I know. But Debor-"

"Deborah needs you more than these people. You can't help everyone Tom." Sub Zero felt a pang of guilt as he finished processing what he had just said.

"Look, you don't have to help me, just...just at least hear what they have to say."

Sub Zero nodded. He followed his friend downstairs and they stepped into a rope powered elevator, Smoke kept quiet the entire couple of minutes it took to reach the bottom floor as unease crept upon Sub Zero. Reaching the bottom, the two of them meandered towards the large open area that spanned the entire floor. Sub Zero saw benches and stained glass windows point towards a large altar which had a mural over it. The painting had an inscription arching over the top, reading: Mortalium: Dii homínibus. The picture was of the first Mortals team - which included the original Sub Zero - painted as they were said to have appeared during World War II.

"Kind of a mix of cultural ideas here, don't you think?" Sub Zero exclaimed. Smoke ignored him and they both kept moving towards the altar. A towering man stood with his arms held out to them both, he wore a long red robe with black seams and gold inscriptions across his body and a hat that seemed to resemble Arabian kings' head wear - sans the slotted mask that covered his nose and mouth.

"Welcome, Master Sub Zero the Second," the man greeted, bowing towards the hastily clothed soldier.

"Er...thank you, um, sir?"

"No, no, thank you for joining us here."

"I didn't exactly have a choice..." Sub Zero muttered under his breath.

The Grandmaster put his arm around Sub Zero and led him closer to the painting before whispering in his ear, "Press the button under the mural."

"Button?"

The Grandmaster waved a finger towards the small, camouflaged panel where the button was situated. Sub Zero hesitated and glanced at Smoke who stood unmoving. Walking over, the warrior pressed the panel, hearing a satisfying click as he pushed it. The mural seemingly levitated as it was lifted by similar mechanics used for the elevator and behind it lay a crudely chiselled six foot hole in the wall. It wasn't the hole that caught Sub Zero's eye though, it was what was lay encased in glass within it.

"What...?!"

Through the glass lay the hooded, masked skull and half a spine of the first Sub Zero; Brian.

"B-B-Bi-Han?!" Sub Zero said, trembling at the sight of his brother's bones.

Author's Note: I feel myself becoming a walking disappointment - I had finished the majority of this chapter mere days after the last and was on course to post it before life got in the way. Alas, this is here now and hopefully it makes up for lost time. This is the real home stretch now, at least five more chapters and possibly an epilogue. Thank you as always for reviews/favourites/follows!

Obelisk of Light: Tremor's name wasn't meant to be linked to Assassin's Creed, but I like where your mind is! The Johnny Cage name was a slip up by me, I forgot to look up his actual name...Stryker is a real piece of work and I'm always happy to see people react to him with contempt.

Mr. Havik: Raiden is more mysterious than most and there are a lot of mysterious folks in this story! The tribute is unintentional I'm afraid. In this story, Johnny's surname is Hemsworth, yes. I forgot to mention that Frost is half Chinese/Japanese, the two Sub Zeroes aunt is their father's sister. I adore your theories, you keep astounding me with what you come up with, most of it better than what I set out to do! Thank you as always!