Kano stared with disbelief at the man sitting across the table from him. On the run from the US government, he had gone to ground in the jungles of Indonesia. He had brought his expertise and skills to the local crime syndicate, and in just a few months, it had grown from a small pot-smuggling operation to a major player in the regional drug economy. Now a strange man had come to him to plan a heist, offering the opportunity to steal half a ton of gold.
"One thousand pounds of gold? How much is that worth?"
While Kano had been speaking rhetorically, the cybernetic implant in his facemask jumped to life. Almost instantly, text appeared in his field of vision:
One thousand troy pounds of gold, at current market value
of $1523.24 per troy ounce, is worth $21,325,360.
The man was a very traditional-looking ninja, like something right out of central casting. He had on yellow garb and a face-covering mask. When Kano had asked his name, he had simply replied, "Scorpion". He had been introduced and vouched for by a local warlord with whom Kano had had many profitable interactions. The only concession to modernity was the pair of sunglasses he wore.
Scorpion spoke. "Around twenty million US dollars. And unlike the drugs you smuggle, gold is much easier to work with, pay people with, and turn into cash. My source says that most of the gold is stored on a boat with just a few guards. If we can get to it, we should have no trouble taking it."
Kano was interested. "And where is this boat?"
"Well, there's the fun part. Surely you've heard about that 'Mortal Kombat' thing that ESPN is doing next month. The one thousand pounds of gold is ESPN's payment for broadcast rights. Last I heard, they had already given 250 pounds to the Outworld people running the tournament, but the other 750 is in a secure vault on the boat. That's over fifteen million right there. We believe that the remainder of the gold is on Outworld Island, and a small group of armed men should have no trouble taking it from them."
"You want us to go to Outworld Island – which they say is impossible to get to unless you're in the tournament – and steal money belonging to an ancient and powerful wizard? And ESPN?"
"One of my men has a contact who works on a cargo vessel out of Bangkok. That vessel is providing transport to and from the island. He's sailed there several times. They travel out to the middle of the ocean and spent a few hours following a strange, twisting path. After that, they sail in a specific direction and it suddenly becomes foggy. They sail straight through the fog and the island is right there. He has taken notes, and he's pretty sure that it's the same path every time. As for the mechanics of taking the gold, he says that they just have five guards on the boat. They're carrying pistols and rifles, but they're mostly relying on the island's magical protection."
"So why me?"
"We need someone who can get into the tournament. You won the all-state karate tournament when you were 14. That's enough to get you an invite to the tournament if you ask the right person, and I can introduce you to that person."
"So, here's the plan. You get an invite to the tournament and sail on the boat. We'll give you a GPS tracker. ESPN's activities have opened the island to electromagnetic transmissions, so we'll track your path. Once you're there, we'll follow the same route the following night. You meet up with us, and we rob the boat and maybe the temple. Easy peasy."
Kano was skeptical. He was certainly a competent fighter, but hadn't fought in a formal fighting tournament in decades. But twenty million dollars would be a huge score, even divided up among a dozen accomplices.
"How many men would you bring? How many of mine would you expect me to bring?"
The face mask and sunglasses made it impossible to read Scorpion's expression. His voice betrayed nothing. He responded, in his maddeningly even tone, "You are expected to provide the muscle for this job. I'm providing you the invite and the transportation. The actual work of getting onto the target boat and removing the gold is up to you."
"So, I risk my life in this magical fight-to-the-death tournament, provide muscle, and do the actual theft. And you provide a boat ride. What cut are you expecting?"
"I would consider ten percent more than fair."
Kano barely avoided blinking his biological eye. He had been ready to fight for not more than 20%, and this strange 'Scorpion' had come in at half that.
"OK, you have a deal. Let's get me that invite."
. . .
Not far from Kano's compound was a small temple to Raiden, the god of thunder. Scorpion had arranged for the meeting to happen there. Kano was uneasy engaging in crime in a holy place, but Scorpion assured him that it would not be a problem. They walked into the temple. A lone man was sitting inside. He spoke without looking up.
"Is this the man?"
Scorpion replied, "Yes. This is Kano of South Australia, and he's ready to be invited to the tournament."
The robed man stood up and finally looked at Kano.
"Greetings, Kano of South Australia. Do you indeed want to fight in the Mortal Kombat tournament? Are you prepared to represent Earth, defending the realm against all who would harm her?"
For a moment, Kano forgot about the planned heist. This man had a commanding presence unlike anything he'd ever felt, and he actually felt a moment of pride at being selected to protect the Earth from evil. After a few seconds, he snapped out of it and remembered the $20 million. He stood up straight and replied.
"Sir, I am. I would be honored to represent the realm and defend her from evil."
The man looked skeptical for a moment. But his face cleared. "Very well. Kano of South Australia, I hereby invite you to the 2020 Mortal Kombat tournament."
Kano was used to getting information via his cybernetic implant, but what happened next was new. Information flooded into his brain. Suddenly he knew, as surely as he knew his own name, that he was a competitor in the Mortal Kombat tournament. He knew exactly where he needed to be to catch a boat to Outworld, and knew everything about the tournament. He also knew that, having accepted, he had no choice but to enter.
. . .
Later that day, Scorpion returned to the temple alone. The old man was still there and once again greeted Scorpion without looking up. "Thank you. I couldn't have gotten him into the tournament without you."
With solid white eyes no longer covered by those ridiculous sunglasses, Scorpion glared at the old man. "Why, Lord Raiden? Why do you want this petty thug in the Mortal Kombat tournament?"
Raiden smiled wistfully. "Oh, I don't want him in the tournament. Unfortunately, I need him in the tournament."
He stood up. "It seems strange now, but trust me. As for you, do you still want in?"
"Yes. You promised me revenge."
"Very well. Scorpion, I hereby invite you to the 2020 Mortal Kombat tournament."