Shadowlaw Base, Outside
Pattaya, Thailand
According to Colonel Wolfman, the helicopter was just ahead but all Dorian could see was the jungle foliage. If it wasn't much further of a walk, Dorian knew he could handle it. The underground caverns they navigated through were cool from the darkness and the outside breeze. The only sounds in there he could pick up were the steady dripping of mineralized water and their footsteps against the razor sharp gravel. They had since left the tunnels and were now marching through the humid jungle air. The heat was so dense and the air so thick, it choked Dorian at first, and almost had a texture to it. Despite the discomfort, without any rocks threatening to cut up his feet, he knew he'd be able to go on foot. Besides, as strong as he was, Dorian sensed that Aaron was beginning to tire, carrying him in one arm, a heavy automatic rifle in the other. But when he mentioned the idea to Aaron, he Shadowlaw Admiral wasn't willing to comply.
"Who knows what kind of wildlife they've got roaming on the ground," Aaron said. "Centipedes as thick as your thumb, scorpions the size of your fist, and snakes … I'm not taking that risk."
His reply didn't earn him another suggestion from Dorian, and the boy decided to just clam up and enjoy the scenery around him. Having been cooped up in the Shadowlaw cells for the last few months, or maybe even years – he couldn't remember – it was nice to see a little color other than the drab grays of the cement and the darkness of the dungeons.
Suddenly, they heard the audible click of a weapon and the members of the traveling party froze in their tracks. Dorian felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Apparently the threat of being recaptured hadn't been lifted yet. He figured as much, but the serenity of their surroundings did much to distort his perception of their situation.
"Arms down, Ginzu," Wolfman ordered from the rear of the group, "it's us."
Dorian turned to look in every direction conceivable, yet he couldn't see anything that looked like a helicopter. And then the camouflage blanket was lifted, and with a sudden rush of air, the fabric crumpled to the ground and revealed the body of the mechanical gray bird, beckoning them as Ginzu, a small man who could almost be mistaken for a boy, stood in the opening in the side of the vehicle, waving excitedly.
"Thank goodness you guys are okay," he said with a thick British accent, removing his beret to reveal a mop of long, ruffled blond hair. He wiped the sweat off his face with a forearm. "I was starting to think I'd have to go in there and get you guys out myself."
"Ah, Ginzu," Luwanda said affectionately as she tapped him on the head, "so little faith in our abilities." She entered the helicopter and strapped herself in, followed by Katarina, then McCoy, while Wolfman continued to cover the rear.
"So you guys are the traitors to Shadowlaw," Ginzu commented, eyeing Katarina and Aaron separately. "It doesn't sound bad when you have the words "Shadowlaw" and "traitor" in the same sentence. The two negatives cancel each other out and becomes a positive and …"
"Thanks for the lesson in linguistics," Wolfman interrupted, "but it'd do us more good if you could help get the engine started so we can get the hell out of this joint." Dorian noticed that Ginzu was taken aback by the aggression in their Colonel's tone, but guessed that it had been misdirected.
"Come on, kiddo," Aaron said, lifting Dorian to the opening, "up you get."
McCoy received the boy and helped him get strapped in while Aaron clambered in after them. Wolfman was the last to join them as he slid the door shut and found himself a seat, directly across from where Aaron sat. They both looked at each other uncomfortably.
"So where are we going?" Dorian asked Wolfman, to break the tension between the two men.
Wolfman smiled at the boy and asked, "Where would you like to go? You're free from Shadowlaw now. You can go anywhere you like."
"I'd like to find my family," Dorian answered honestly.
"We can help you out with that."
Wolfman's words were the last comprehensible thing Dorian could hear as the air gradually filled with the sound of the chopper's propellers rotating, their blades slashing at the thick air fast enough to lift the entire vehicle with their body weight off the ground and into the clear blue sky. Dorian guessed it was sometime in the evening when Aaron had first sprung him and Katarina from the cells. It was hard to tell the time of day really, when they were kept underground. And judging from the orange sunlight, he guessed it was now either late evening or early morning.
Bright orange sunlight flooded the cabin, illuminating everyone's somber expressions. They were all able to breathe a sigh of relief as the helicopter climbed higher into the air and made its way towards the horizon. The nightmare was over and already, Dorian could feel the sweat on his back and forehead drying with the help of the cabin's air conditioning system. Dorian leaned back in his seat and turned his head slightly to look out the window.
Somewhere out there, there was a family frantically looking for him. He could see them now – the nice blonde lady whose face he didn't recognize, looking down lovingly at him. He felt safe with her watching over him, and Dorian knew that he loved her. There wasn't a point in his life where he could recall the specific event taking place to earn him that memory, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew it had happened. She was very young, probably in her late teens to early twenties with a silky voice, her touch cool and gentle on his forehead. He felt safe in her presence. Nothing would ever hurt him when she was there. But the as for who she was, Dorian suspected that she was his mother, though that couldn't be proven either, along with her existence. A guardian angel perhaps, if not his mother?
Dorian analyzed himself in the reflection of the window. If she was his mother, perhaps there would be some trait in him that he'd inherited from her. Dorian's hair was dark brown, his eyes a deep blue, his complexion pale with a slight tint of olive – nothing to indicate that he was the offspring of this mysterious woman that haunted his memories. Dorian had received comments before, comments stating that he didn't look quite Caucasian to be considered "white", but too white to be Italian or Greek. If this woman was his mother, his father must've at least been of Mediterranean descent. But Dorian had no idea where to even start looking for either of this people once he got to wherever the chopper was taking him.
"So how'd a kid like you end up in Shadowlaw's dungeons?" Wolfman asked.
Dorian was jarred from his thoughts, realizing only then that the question was being directed at him.
"Well …" he began, not knowing where to start, "I'm not sure exactly. Family connections, I guess."
"What sort of connections?"
Dorian didn't think it would be much of a threat telling this man who seemed to be questioning him based on curiosity more than anything else. But even still, Grandfather Francisco Marquez had always told him to be careful about revealing himself to others, based on the reputation of the Latin Kings. With their kind of name, there would be no telling what that information meant to whoever he gave it to, whether it be the gangs rival to the Latin Kings, or authority figures.
"My grandfather is a successful businessman," Dorian stated carefully, keeping his words truthful, but generic as well.
"Oh, and what kind of business?"
"I'm not sure," Dorian lied. He never liked lying, but his grandfather had stressed to him how important it was to keep their kind of business under wraps, to the point where Dorian was now afraid to spill anything to avoid his grandfather's wrath.
"It can't be legal," McCoy noted audibly to Wolfman, not thinking Dorian would be able to understand.
"If it involves Shadowlaw," Wolfman said, "nothing can be." He turned his attention back to the boy. "Do you know what the name of this business is?"
Dorian was starting to wonder if perhaps he was better off in those cells. He was glad to be out, but not if he was going to have to turn his grandfather into the authorities, the only family Dorian had in the crazy amalgamation of unfortunate circumstances that his life was made of. "No."
Dorian was going to keep playing the innocent card until it would hold out no longer.
He hoped he could used his age to his advantage and focused on looking like the poor child caught up in a mess that was never intended for him. It wasn't that hard to pull off, considering it was partly true. He had been born into the life of the Latin Mafia in downtown Los Angeles. He was sure the blonde woman in his dreams wasn't a part of it all because he had yet to see her in real life.
"Well when we get back to headquarters," Wolfman said, "we're going to do some research on your grandfather, and help you find the rest of your family. If they're in Shadowlaw's hands like you are, we're going to have to get them out as well."
Had they not been so damn high off the ground, Dorian would have leapt out of the chopper right then and there. Colonel Wolfman seemed like a nice guy, and Dorian appreciated his efforts to be helpful. But he knew that given the history of his dealings with the Latin Kings, having the good colonel help him would only make things worse.
A mixed blessing came in the form of a violent jolt to the helicopter cabin, simultaneous with some kind of explosion coming from the outside. Everyone was nearly thrown from their seats despite having fastened the seatbelts.
"What the hell!" Aaron cried from beside Dorian.
"Fuck!" Ginzu screamed from the cockpit.
"What's going on up there?" Wolfman demanded.
"I've lost control of the propeller!" Ginzu replied.
"This ain't good!" Luwanda added, gazing out the window. "I'm seeing smoke!"
Panic began to rise in Dorian's chest, combined with the sudden tailspin the chopper was thrown into. This couldn't be. They couldn't have nearly died trying to escape the Shadowlaw complex only to have their victory soured by a malfunctioning escape vehicle. It couldn't be. They'd come too far!
Protest as he might have, Dorian was completely helpless to take charge of the situation. Their lives lay in the capable hands of Ginzu, their pilot, and his screams of frustration and panic weren't helping the boy's psyche.
"Everybody hold on!" Ginzu hollered over the noise of the falling chopper. "We're going down hard and fast!"
Aaron instinctively threw himself over Dorian, shielding the boy's head and shoulders with his bulk. Luwanda and Katarina huddled together while McCoy wrapped his arms around both women. Wolfman paralleled his torso with the floor, hands clasped above his head. The six of them waited for the rocking to stop, everyone holding the contents of their stomachs in as the world spun around them. Upper branches of the jungle slapped the sides of the vehicle violently. The slaps grew faster and harder as the chopper carved its way through the lower trees of the jungle. That was the last thing Dorian remembered before he felt himself get thrown forward, out of Aaron's grasp, and the world disappeared around him into a dark void.
XXXXX
Master's Private Jet
Over the Pacific
Cranky gazed out of the small window at his left side, looking at the vast blue sea around him. From up here, even the biggest ocean waves seemed to be stationary. This wasn't his first time on a plane, not by a long shot, but he traveled rarely and would always be captivated by the beauty of the ocean from this high up. There was no land that he could see for miles and miles around. He strained his eyes to spot any wildlife, maybe whales perhaps. But when he could find none, he realized they were probably too high to see something even as big as a whale. It wasn't like he needed ocean life to keep him occupied, anyway. The sheer size of the Pacific Ocean was doing a good enough job. It took his attention away from the goings on inside the cabin of Ken's private jet.
Kenny was fast asleep beside him with his head on a pillow in Cranky's lap. The tanned leather seats were meant to sit two people, and offered enough space to support one person lying down. Despite the space, Kenny's knees were buckled. One of his arms covered his face, the other one hanging off the edge of the seat. Cranky glanced down at the sleeping teen and smiled. He only ever slept on his left side, and he always needed to have something covering his eyes so he could fall asleep to the darkness, which is why during their days on the street, Kenny had always wanted to sleep in the refrigerator box in the alley, while Cranky bitterly submitted to the boy's whining and settled with a wooden crate. Some things never changed, memory wipe or not.
"Yo, how's it going, Crankurt?" Wagner whispered, joining Cranky in the facing sofa on which Juli slept upright, her head leaning against the cabin wall. Cranky had avoided eye contact with her since meeting up with her at the airport. And they had barely exchanged words beyond false pleasantries just to avoid starting up any unnecessary drama. Wagner took his place beside her and gently placed a wool blanket over her slender frame.
"Not too bad," Cranky replied, still gazing out the window.
Wagner let out a chuckle upon seeing Kenny. "Sleeping like a baby."
"I don't think any of us slept well last night," Cranky said, stating the obvious as he recalled the attack on Akuma.
"How's the arm?" Wagner asked, tipping his chin at the raw wound on Cranky's upper arm where Kenny had missed Akuma with an expertly thrown knife and hit his brother instead.
"Masters put a little antiseptic on it. It should be better in a few days. But it hasn't been bothering me."
"Have you told Kenny about our arrangements for him yet?" Wagner inquired, changing the subject.
"I was going to at first," Cranky admitted. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realize … I'm afraid."
"Afraid?"
"I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him."
"You're not making sense."
"Kenny doesn't have anyone else," Cranky explained.
Cranky's words were doused with guilt when there was little reason for them to be. "Has he given you reason to believe you're betraying him?"
"Well … no. Him and Cammy have really seemed to hit if off. They didn't even need me to introduce them. He's supportive of me, if anything, the little bugger." Cranky tousled Kenny's hair.
"So then the problem is …?"
"I dunno."
"The problem is you." Wagner said with finality, emphasizing his point with a nod. He didn't say it in a mean way, more like he was confirming a fact. "You're a very selfless guy to the people you love, Crankurt, and I admire you for it. You cast away your carefree life on the streets and assumed responsibility for Kenny while I was a fucking delinquent sent to live with Guile. We were the same age when I needed someone there for me, and you were responsible enough for yourself to take some kid under your wing. And for my sister, you've saved her from herself, given her a reason to continue living and believe me, since you came into her life, it's becoming easier and easier for Cammy to bury that past and move on towards her future with you.
"But at some point … the love and protection you've offered Cammy and Kenny have become an obsession. You want to be the one in control, watching their every move so they won't go off and hurt themselves. I personally call it the Alpha Male syndrome. Watch out for all the little ones and the females and don't let anyone get near them or you'll rip them apart. Well we're not animals, Crankurt. We're human. And that's not how humans work."
"It's not like that," Cranky said defensively.
"Look, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's only natural for someone to want to keep their loved ones safe. But …"
"I'm suffocating them with it," Cranky droned, remembering the long talk he had with Julian and Wagner back at the bar in Osaka.
"That's right. Just because you're not there at their side twenty-four seven doesn't mean …" Wagner paused. "Finish the sentence, Crankurt."
"Doesn't mean I don't love them."
"You say it," Wagner said, "but do you mean it here?" He jabbed his finger into Cranky's chest.
Cranky nodded in agreement first and then spoke. "Yeah, I think I do. I mean, it all makes sense but I guess I just have to get used to that kind of logic. And that's gonna take some time, but I think I'll live through it."
"Do you guys mind?" Kenny suddenly asked, having been roused from his sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly. "You're in my bubble."
"Sorry," Wagner apologized and backed off a step.
As soon as Kenny had lifted his head, the blood came rushing back into Cranky's thigh. He grasped at it, wincing in pain from the pins and needles.
"What are you guys blabbering about, anyway?" Kenny asked. "It better be important enough to wake me from my beauty sleep."
"We were just discussing about some arrangements after the tournament ends," Wagner said. "I'll let your brother explain it to you." Wagner got up from his seat, taking a glance at Juli to make sure she was still comfortable, and left.
"Well, what is it?" Kenny asked when Cranky wasn't speaking up even after Wagner had disappeared around the bend of the corridor.
Cranky's mouth moved but produced no sound as he tried to find the right words. "Kenny, you're not a kid anymore and …"
"Oh, thanks for finally realizing that," Kenny interrupted sarcastically. "Anyway, go on."
Cranky glared at him for a second before continuing. "And like you promised yesterday at Mr. Ohgi's place, I'm going to trust you to be completely responsible for yourself for at least a few years."
"And … what have I been doing since, I dunno, before you made your magical reappearing act in my life?"
"Wagner's agreed to let you room in with him, for a couple of years until you're out of high school. I'll be in England starting up my own business and just getting my life on track. In that time, Wagner's gonna help you find a school, shelter you, feed you, all of that. It's a very selfless thing for him to do and I don't want you fucking any of it up."
"Oh please, what kind of a person do you think I am?"
Cranky said nothing but tilted his head at the teen.
"Well, okay, fine, but at least I have manners."
"Use them," Cranky ordered, "like you've never used them before."
"Wow …" Kenny said, considering what had just been told to him.
"I know you're not used to having to answer to anyone, but while you're staying under his roof, you will abide by the rules Wagner sets. He comes from a military family and you know how strict on discipline they are. So all the lip you can get away with me will not fly with them. Am I making myself clear or are you just nodding like that to shut me up?"
"No, no. I get it. But are you letting me have any say in this?"
"No. Not as long as you're still a minor. When you've graduated, you'll be eighteen and then you can do whatever you want. You can move out of Wagner's, rent a place of your own, or come stay with me in England. I should have my own place by then. Whatever you want, you're free to do – but that doesn't happen until you're eighteen."
"Whatever I want?" Kenny inquired. "That usually entails me doing what you want."
"When you're out of school, what I would like is for you to come and stay with me in England. Of course, I realize you'll be technically an adult by then so I won't make you. I meant what I said, Kenny. You're free to do whatever you want by then."
"So … you're not really trusting me to be on my own then."
"Look, I'm just trying to do the right thing, okay? Don't make this hard for me, Kenny."
"Alright, alright!" Kenny said, turning away from Cranky. "Geez, I'll do it already, just stop talking like that."
"Atta boy," Cranky said, throwing his arm around Kenny's shoulders.
"God, I hate it when you get all emotional and sentimental. It's so fucking embarrassing." Kenny flipped the hood of his sweater over his head and hunched over, hiding his face from immediate view.
Cranky let out a laugh. He still got a kick out of embarrassing Kenny. Some things really do never change. Memory wipe or not.
XXXXX
Boxing Gym
Bangkok, Thailand
Cammy noticed the Shadowlaw goons moving cautiously that day, constantly looking over their shoulder to double check they had done their duties correctly. The guards lost their cocky smiles, their arrogant swaggers and the temple attendants were a lot more submissive, if they could be any more, that is. Though Cammy didn't officially know why, she was able to take an educated stab at the reason.
Bison was pissed.
And why wouldn't he? The three members of his precious bodyguard panel had been systematically taken out, even with the Shadow Technology within their systems. That act alone displayed the talents of the world warriors that had surpassed his expectation in the tournament. Bison most likely wanted them to be strong enough to be useful as AID agents, but at this rate, they were too strong to even succumb to the technology.
Cammy found herself dwelling on the matter than she would've liked. She cleared her mind and threw a gloved punch, straight into a burlap punching bag hanging from the ceiling of the gym by a single chain. She chained it with another in succession, and threw in a couple of kicks for the hell of it. Her heart wasn't into her training this time, probably because of the upcoming showdown with Bison in just over an hour.
She wished her loved ones were right beside her now, to comfort her. She wished Wagner was here to pull of a stupid act, and end up falling flat on his face just to make her laugh, or Guile to soothe her with his comforting touch, which never failed to make her feel safe and protect her. She wished Jane was here for the emotional support, and Cranky to know that if anything happened to her, he'd be valiantly throwing himself into battle after her.
Deciding the stale, sweaty air of the boxing gym was getting the better of her, Cammy decided to leave the decrepit establishment. The burlap punching bag probably couldn't take much more abuse anyway and the boxing ring was falling apart. She thought about showering before she left, after having worked up a sweat in that humid facility, but then decided against it as it the sweat would just reform on her body in the humid air. Besides, Cammy didn't want to see what the water from the taps would look like in a place like that.
On leaving the gym, she bumped straight into Ryu.
"Hello," he said formally, with a little upbeat cheer in his tone.
"What are you doing here?" she cried.
"Heading to the tournament grounds," he replied, tilting his head towards a random direction that always amazed Cammy. Ryu seemed to be in constant awareness of where he was on a continental scale, and which way was north. She supposed she couldn't expect anything less from a seasoned traveler – a traveler who did so on FOOT, may she add. "I thought perhaps you'd like to join me for the journey."
"Sure," Cammy agreed, "I'll call a cab."
"Well I was planning on walking there …"
"Don't be ridiculous. We'll never make it there on time."
"I walk fast, Cammy."
"Well I don't. This fight's important, Ryu. We should be saving every ounce of energy we've got for Bison."
Something in Ryu's expression didn't make her feel any easier. It was his downcast gaze that told her something, the way his lips moved like he wanted to say something to correct her, but didn't bring himself to do it. There was something obviously bothering Ryu, something other than Bison. And it probably affected her too, considering he looked like he was ready to spill everything to her. Or perhaps not, now that he chose not to say anything in the end. Still, Cammy couldn't shake the feeling that something else was wrong even as they climbed into an awaiting cab on the side of the road that pulled them in the direction Ryu had previously tilted his head to.
XXXXX
Shadowlaw Base, Outside
Pattaya, Thailand
Aaron awoke to choking smoke and intense heat. He couldn't have been out for long as the fires that burned the debris of the chopper raged on. Pieces of scrap metal and torn branches lay all about him. His entire body felt as if it were made of lead, and every movement he made put him in a world of pain. He winced as he got to his feet, the joints of his limbs resisting his efforts with bursts of sharp pain. The main body of the chopper lay a few meters away, a burnt shell of its once majestic glory. He remembered telling everyone to dive out of the vehicle once the door had been smashed open upon landing, just moments before it erupted into flames. He remembered the screams of panic, his fellow passengers leaping out of the aircraft. He remembered jumping out with Dorian in his arms. But … where was everyone now?
He looked around for signs of any other survivors. Luwanda lay between a pair of boulders, face down on the forest floor. Aaron thought her dead upon first glance, until she moaned in pain, probably similar to his, and struggled to get up. Katarina's fall had been cushioned by McCoy, both of them slowly sitting up from the ground. From around the other side of the vehicle, Wolfman appeared with Ginzu, the pilot's arm thrown over the Colonel's shoulder as they limped together into view. But where was Dorian?
"Everyone okay?" Wolfman asked, coughing through the smoke.
"Oh God," Katarina gasped, putting a hand to her open mouth, "he's not still in the helicopter, is he?"
"No," Aaron was quick to interrupt her. "I remember jumping from the chopper with him. But I can't find him anywhere now."
"He couldn't have gotten far," McCoy said. "He should still be around here somewhere."
"It depends how long we were out for."
"Not long at all," Wolfman interjected, "I never lost consciousness. It's probably been two or three minutes since the chopper caught fire after we crash landed. Dorian's got to be around here somewhere. We've got to look for him."
"Anyone here hurt?" Luwanda asked while she simultaneously ran her hands along her curvaceous body looking for any sign of injury as everyone else mirrored her.
"I think I busted my foot up pretty good," Ginzu offered, "but I'm okay otherwise."
"I think I'll be okay," McCoy said.
"Same here," Katarina added.
"I don't think I've gotten any new injuries," Luwanda said, though that stab wound's fucking killing me! The fall must've irritated it."
"You stay here and get some rest," Wolfman ordered. "The rest of us will search around for Dorian."
"He's a pretty light kid," Aaron said, "so perhaps he got thrown farther than the rest of us."
"Oh my gosh, AARON!" Katarina screamed in horror.
He turned to face her. "What is it, Kat?" he asked.
"There's a fucking piece of wood embedded into your shoulder blade!" Luwanda cried. "D…don't move!"
"I'll be fine," Aaron said, waving off their concerns. "It doesn't hurt."
"You're still in shock," Katarina explained. "The pain will set in later. In the meantime, I think you should rest here with Luwanda. We'll get that wound taken care of later."
"I've got it taken care of right here!" Aaron said, annoyed at their misplaced concern. They shouldn't have been worried about him. Dorian was missing! He reached over his shoulder with his opposing arm and tore the wooden branch out of his flesh, and screamed in agony, realizing when it was too late that it was embedded quite deeply.
"What are you doing?" Katarina screeched. She half ran and half limped over to him, ripping more fabric from the bottom of her white skirt as she went.
"Fuck, Kat …" Aaron hissed through tears, "I'm such a dumbass. Damn, I had no idea …"
Even as he spoke, Katarina got to work right away, wrapping the strip of fabric tightly around his torso, careful to apply as much pressure as she could to the wound. "If I keep this up," she said, "I won't have much of a skirt left."
XXXXX
Over Thailand
The brilliant flash of light stunned Kenny, temporarily blinding him as he gazed out the window of Ken Masters' private jet while he was busy admiring the landscape of the lush Thai jungles below. It came suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a bright flash of light erupting just over the emerald green canopy followed by an eruption of flame, a giant fireball in the sky suddenly making its way groundward. Moments later, he felt the cabin of the plane shake, likely from the shockwave that followed a few seconds later. The others hadn't noticed a thing, the slight vibration in sync with the minor turbulence they had to endure most of the way of the flight.
Cranky had dozed off beside Kenny, his head resting uncomfortably on the teenager's bony shoulder while he snored reality away. Kenny grasped Cranky's shoulder and shook him lightly.
"Yo, Crank, wake up," he whispered.
"Zz … huh, what?" Cranky said, stirring.
"There was an explosion out there," Kenny explained, pointing out the window.
Cranky rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What are you talking about? What explosion?"
"I saw it," Kenny insisted, "outside just above the trees. Look, you can still see the smoke!" Cranky moved him aside to look out the window for himself. Kenny knew he wouldn't believe him, that it was just a figment of his imagination, but as soon as he saw it for himself …
"Holy shit," Cranky gasped. He turned back from the window. "Do you think we should tell Masters?"
But Kenny had already leapt from his seat, running down the aisle towards the cockpit where Ken likely sat with the pilot. He dashed past Julian, almost causing the faux Catholic priest to spill a mug of hot coffee over the fine plush carpets.
"Where are you going?" Julian cried out in confusion.
"There's something I think we should investigate," Kenny replied, without slowing down a step. Julian stared after him in confusion, then shrugged and continued on his way back towards his seat.
Kenny burst through the door of the cockpit, taking Ken and the pilot by surprise.
"Hey, kiddo, what's got you so worked up?" Ken asked, turning around.
"Outside … boom … big boom …" Kenny wheezed. He rested his forehead against the back of his hand, holding onto the doorframe for support as he panted for air.
Ken cocked an eyebrow. "You really need to quit smoking and work out a little …" he said, unimpressed with the youth's stamina. The plane wasn't that long and the run shouldn't have taken so much out of a normal healthy human being. "How's the plane doing?" Ken asked his pilot.
"All systems seem to be performing fine," he replied, equally perplexed as Ken as to what the teenager was referring to.
"No, no," Kenny said, shaking his head. "There was an explosion outside. I think we should check it out!"
"We're about a thousand feet in the air," Ken replied. "Where was this explosion? In midair?"
"Yes!" Kenny cried, still struggling for breath. He pointed his finger urgently to the ground.
"How's the ground for landing?" Ken asked his pilot.
"It's mostly wild grass and soil," the pilot replied. "Not the most ideal for a smooth landing, but there should be little to no damage to the actual plane itself."
"It was an aircraft," Kenny pressed. "It probably malfunctioned or something, I'm not quite sure. We've gotta go check for survivors!"
"Alright," Ken said, believing the youth's every word. "Let's go check this out. But we can't waste too much time. The final fight with Bison should be starting in an hour or two."
XXXXX
Shadowlaw Base, Outside
Pattaya, Thailand
They'd spent the last ten minutes searching their immediate surroundings, leaving no stone unturned, and still wound up with no sign of Dorian. Even Luwanda and a recently bandaged Aaron helped search where they could and stopped only when their wounds gave them trouble. Aaron, sweaty with effort, dehydrated and overheated collapsed against a boulder, trying his best to ignore the pain radiating from his shoulder, and pressed his fingertips into his temples in frustration.
"I don't get it," he said to Luwanda sitting beside him, who had long surrendered herself to her stab wound. "We just crash landed. There's no way he could've been thrown that far from the chopper, especially when I had him when we jumped out."
"You lost consciousness," she suggested, "and perhaps he ran away to find help."
"With Shadowlaw forces in the area? Wolfman walked out of the wreckage fine and he didn't even see Dorian go. If he did, you think he'd have allowed the kid to get away?"
"Assuming the child ran away to begin with." Neither Luwanda nor Aaron had spoken those words to each other. It was a voice from the farthest reaches of Aarons memory, one so familiar, and yet sinister. He shot a glance to Luwanda who only sat on the ground, staring defiantly at whoever stood behind Aaron, lips pressed into a thin line. But there was nothing he could do to fight back physically in her current condition. Slowly, Aaron turned, looking over his shoulder and saw the recognizable form of …
"Vega!" he hissed in rage. There was the man who had so brutally raped his sister. He was lucky that Aaron hadn't been near them at the time or Vega wouldn't be standing in front of them right now. Katarina had spent years of blood, sweat and tears to resurrect him from the dead, and though Bison paid her well, it wasn't the money that motivated her. It was her love for the psycho that drove her relentlessly. And this was how he paid her back for giving him the gift of life. He penetrated her, raped her, when all she could do was cry out helplessly and scream. Aaron was glad that Vega stood before him now, so he could give the man the punishment his actions cried out for.
"No worries," Vega said, ignoring Aaron's outcry. "We've brought the child back here for you. Genta!"
Genta Iwagaki, a promising Shadowlaw soldier stepped up to Vega's side with the young Dorian Marquez thrown lazily over his shoulder, out like a light bulb. The youth smirked cockily at Aaron.
"I hope the landing wasn't too rough for you."
"You caused us to crash, you little shit!" Aaron lunged at the youth but was only able to make it a few feet when Luwanda seized his elbow and held him back with a surprisingly strong grip.
"No," she said, "he's only trying to get the better of you. Lose your self control and we all lose!"
"Get away from Vega," Aaron said, trying to convince Genta to reconsider his alliances. "He's dangerous."
Genta took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly. "Smell that?" he asked. "That's the smell of destruction, the smell of danger. That's what we were trained for, Sensei." The term was used so respectfully, it was more condescending than anything. "And now you advise me to run from danger, to run from the very circumstances in which I live my life? Who have you become?" As Genta spoke, the bitterness left his voice and gave way to the confusion, hurt and betrayal that lay underneath.
"I was mistaken to have taught you everything I have," Aaron admitted apologetically. "I know I can't expect you to just give up everything you've learned your whole life. But I need you to trust me as you always have."
"Look at how he cowers," Vega pointed out. "Look at how weak your Sensei has made himself, Genta. This is what happens when you leave the protection of Shadowlaw. You become pathetic, in need of protection from organizations with nothing but a name to them. Delta Red." Vega scoffed.
"Whether you stick with Shadowlaw or throw your ego aside and trust me, the choice is yours, Genta," Issei said. "But whatever happens to Dorian is not. He has nothing to do with this. Just leave him be."
"No," Genta agreed, "but he was in the prison cells for a reason, and I'm sure Master Bison will be wanting him back. And if I did care for the brat's life, I certainly wouldn't be depositing him into your 'capable' hands."
"What's going on here?" Wolfman, Ginzu, McCoy and Katarina reappeared from the thicket, probably drawn back from their search by the conversation. The Delta Red members of the search party looked at Vega curiously, leaving only Katarina to reel back in shock.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she gasped in surprise.
"Masters was supposed to have taken you out in the tournament," Wolfman added, pointing a shaky finger at Vega.
"Oh and he did quite a job," Vega recalled bitterly, caressing the three pronged claw strapped to his right wrist. "But the Shadow Technology – it works wonders, you know. And I have our dear Katarina to thank for that."
"Don't you fucking say another word to her!" Aaron cried, jumping protectively in front of his sister. "From now on, Vega, you and I will do the talking." He pounded a fist into his open palm.
Vega only shook his head in disappointment. "You're nothing but a lump of muscle, Issei," he said. "Not even a decent looking one at that."
"And by the time I'm finished with you," Aaron spat back, "I'm going to look like a fucking model next to your rearranged face."
Vega scoffed. "This will be interesting." He turned his attention back to Genta. "Take Dorian back to the base," he ordered. "I'll deal with this hideous beast myself."
"Oh, neither of you will be going anywhere," McCoy interjected, standing directly in Genta's path, sure of the fact that his sheer size would intimidate the youth.
Genta merely smirked and quick as lighting, reached into a dark leather pouch strapped around the waist of his army fatigues, and tossed something at McCoy. The Delta Red agent wasn't able to decipher what it was as he found his vision suddenly went black and a sharp stinging sensation was introduced to his eyes.
"Holy shit!" McCoy cried, rubbing his eyes painfully. Genta performed a swift kick that connected with the side of his head, flooring the behemoth of a man in a second. Aaron ran to the man's aid but veered off course in an attempt to avoid a punch delivered by Genta.
"Come on, Sensei," Genta mocked, "show me what you're made of."
"You know this isn't smart of you, Genta," Aaron warned. But his warning went unheeded as the youth followed up with a violent roundhouse, smashing his knee into Aaron's midsection, and brought his leg around again for a hook kick to his lower back. Aaron seized his protégé's leg with an arm, catching it between his elbow and waist, and kicked the youth's balancing leg out from under him, bringing him down to the dirt ground. Somewhere overhead, he thought he heard the engines of a jet screaming, but he was too caught up in to the fight to have his attention diverted. Dorian's unconscious body was thrown a few feet away, and though Aaron worried for his safety, Genta was doing a good job of keeping him occupied to check on the boy.
Luwanda threw herself over Dorian's body and pulled him to a safer distance while the fight continued, to prevent his small body from being trampled as Aaron and Genta traded blows, feet dancing around Dorian. Vega pounced then, ready to take Luwada out with his claw while she was defenseless trying to defend the civilian child.
"No!" Wolfman cried and threw himself in the Spanish matador's path, earning him a vicious swipe of the claw across the chest. Woflman cried out in pain and grasped his chest with an arm. He could already feel the warm blood seeping through his clenched fingers. Vega pulled his clawed arm back for another strike, but when he tried to bring it forward for a fatal slash, found that it wasn't cooperating.
Katarina had snuck up from behind him and held him by the elbow now. Before Vega could even utter a word, she jabbed the toe of her heeled shoes into the back of his knee, forcing her ex-lover to stumble. Maintaining her grip on his elbow,s he flipped him over backwards onto the ground and jumped back before he could retaliate with a strike to her leg.
Genta kicked his leg straight up while he lay on the ground, his heel connecting with Aaron's jaw. The larger man was thrown back with the force of the kick which was much more powerful than one of the youth's size would be able to deliver. He remembered Genta saying something about being powered by the psycho drive back in the base. So with him drawing his source of energy from the very same Psycho Drive that Bison used, and with Vega embedded with the Shadow Technology inside him, Aaron realized that this was going to be an uphill battle despite the advantage in numbers he and Delta Red had over Genta and Vega.
Aaron reeled back grasping his jaw and spat on the ground – a bloody wad of spit. He reached into his sash and tossed the remaining of his ninja stars at the youth. Genta jumped to an astonishingly high level and turned his body parallel to the ground, allowing the stars to pass by him harmlessly; one flying above his head, the other just missing his hip. Genta landed quietly as a cat, rolled towards Aaron, and performed a low sweep which was promptly blocked.
Meanwhile, Katarina and Wolfman had their hands full trying to contain Vega, but he was just too quick for them; bouncing off bits of wreckage, boulders and trees, and coming back at them with his claw stabbing dangerously in their directions. Both Wolfman and Katarina had suffered deep gashes and were rapidly losing their energy for the fight, and Vega was only just beginning, dodging their return strikes with grace and agility, coming back at them with another jab and bouncing away again. He was playing the hit and run game, as if he was toying with them, waiting for them to wear themselves out before he moved in for the kill.
"If only we could get that damned claw off of him!" Katarina grunted in the most unwomanly fashion through tightly clenched teeth. "I'm gonna rip it off and shove it so far up his goddamned ass he'll be puking it out!"
"Get on the defensive," Wolfman advised, "let him come at as and block or parry his strikes, but don't waste too much strength trying to retaliate. It's obvious that tactic isn't working for us."
Genta had just managed to avoid a powerful upward slash from Aaron's combat knife with a back flip that brought him next to Luwanda, who had Dorian wrapped protectively in her arms. He seized the woman by the hair at the back of her head and hoisted her up to her feet screaming and thrashing in agony. He pulled her close to his body and held his own knife to her throat.
"One more move, Issei," and this woman is dead. Aaron froze, not knowing what to do. His whole life, he was always the one to be on the threatening end of the deal, the man with the knife to someone's throat, not the valiant hero. He found this role a little uncomfortable, unsure if he could ever get used to this feeling of helplessness. Genta seemed to read his thoughts as he smiled, running the sharp blade across her throat gently.
"Now, perhaps you realize you've made the wrong choice," Genta said. "Maybe this will make you think twice about allying yourselves with the enemy?"
"Even if I choose to return to Shadowlaw now," Aaron replied, "Bison would still have me killed for this treachery. I've worked for the man for twenty years. I know how the organization works."
"Arrogant as ever," Genta snorted. "That's why you're in this predicament. And you have nobody to blame but yourself." He turned his attention to Vega, who had somehow backed himself into a corner with Katarina and Wolfman looking like they were ready to pounce on him. "I've got the upper hand, Master!" he cried out proudly. "I think it's safe to say we've won this battle."
"Good job, my boy," Vega replied, getting to his feet, scooping up Dorian and throwing the boy over his shoulder. "Now why don't you use your advantage to finish this battle? I'll be keeping an eye out for you."
A new realization dawned on Genta just as the words left Vega's mouth. He wasn't planning on leaving it up to him to finish the battle, was he? But his fear was confirmed as Vega reached out and grabbed Katarina and Wolfman's heads, and smashed them together, rendering both fighters stunned, but still in the fight. Vega rose to his feet and somersaulted into the canopy of the trees, where he vanished without a trace.
Genta could only stare in shock at the spot where Vega once stood, unable to absorb the fact that he'd just been left on his own to defend himself against a group of angry, trained soldiers. He fully expected Aaron to make his move then, but the Admiral just stood there with his arms crossed, a disappointed frown spread across his features.
"Now do you believe what I say about that organization?" he asked. "That's what they did to me. They used me to get what they wanted by feeding me lies about the family I held dearest to my heart. They're using you too, Genta." He reached out to the youth who only swiped back savagely.
"Don't come near me!" he screamed. Emotions were building inside him now. Or at least he wanted to believe that Aaron was wrong, that his instincts about Shadowlaw were right all along, that they unselfishly took him off the streets and helped raise him within their organization. Now he had been betrayed by both Vega and Aaron and this wasn't something he was ready to take, let alone accept lightly.
"You're all traitors!" Genta declared, pointing an accusing finger at Aaron. By now, he had released Luwanda who slumped to the ground, her hands wrapped around her throat, feeling for breaks in the skin. At that moment, the electricity in the air rose tenfold. A concentration of energy formed around Genta's body. The life energy his body emanated began to take on a purple hue, while the pupils in his eyes faded from dark brown to a light gray. The sight startled Aaron, forcing him to take a step back away from the hideous visage. "That's all you care about – looking after your own asses. You pretend to care, pretend to appreciate us street kids for our talents. But you're right, Sensei. They were using us in the end. You were ALL using us in the end!"
"No, that's not true!" Aaron protested.
"Now!" McCoy suddenly signaled, and he leapt into action with Ginzu behind him. They jumped at Genta, hoping to restrain the youth, but collided in the air with some sort of invisible barrier that threw them back to the ground. The grass at the youth's feet was turning black slowly from the negative energy emanating off his body; a telltale sign of the Psycho Drive's destructive force.
Genta hooked his fingers into a claw, causing a purple energy ball to form in the palm of his hand, and he tossed it at Aaron who took the brunt of it in the chest. He felt the wind knocked out of him, the impact crushing the air out of his lungs, and threw him into a boulder. Wolfman attacked next but Aaron's flying body crashed into his and both men were sent tumbling a few yards across the ground. Katarina moved in next but Genta performed a solid uppercut, knocking her into the air. As gravity reclaimed her and she fell back to the ground, he performed a spinning back kick aimed high and floored her with a bone crunching thud.
XXXXX
Not even Genta was expecting himself to be able to wield so much power, but here it was, the power of the Psycho Drive showing him exactly what it and him were made of when forged together. And the result was wonderful. He felt the renewed strength coursing through his veins, brought to life by the intense negative emotions he felt just seconds prior. So this was all it took to bring out such power. All he had to do was feel shitty. Given the recent events, he supposed it wasn't that hard to feel that way.
"Issei!" someone cried from behind him. Genta was surprised to see a fiery-haired stranger running towards him, showing concern for the group of fighters he'd just taken out. Behind the stranger ran a small group of people, a blond haired man, another one of darker complexion, a smaller oriental teenager around Genta's age, and a lithe woman. The group raced towards them from a small jet parked about a quarter of a kilometer away in the middle of an expansive field. Genta turned back to his former Sensei who was now picking himself up off the ground, wincing as he went.
"Cranky!" Aaron cried. "Get away from here! This isn't your fight …" But Aaron lost his words as he noticed Kenny running towards them. Kenneth Feng; the youngest, most mysterious member of his family. What in the world was he doing here? And Genta was standing right … SHIT!
Just as Cranky approached, Genta threw another fireball at the unwelcome stranger. Cranky wasn't expecting the assault and took the fireball in the face. He stumbled for a few seconds, fell on his knees, and face planted into the ground. Genta stared after him, lying there in the ground while the oriental teenager crouched over his body, trying to shake the man awake, but to no avail.
XXXXX
"Cranky wake the fuck up!" Kenny cried desperately, but there was no mistaking it – the man was out cold. He looked up at Cranky's assailant, making sure to get a good image of him in his mind so he'd remember which face to break in the future.
"Kenny, you stay here and try to wake him up," Julian said, finding a place between this strange teenager and the brothers with Wagner alongside him. "We'll take care of this kid, whoever he is."
"Well, it looks like Shadowlaw is ripe with traitors," the mysterious teen said. "Even the Agent Initiative's first soldiers have chosen to switch sides."
"Who the hell are you?" Julian hissed.
"Genta Iwagaki," the teen replied, "the successor to Admiral Issei's title, promising Shadowlaw soldier, current wielder of the Psycho Drive, fifteen years old."
"Seems like we've found a lot more than just survivors," Julian noted gravely to Wagner, who nodded in agreement.
Kenny noticed Genta narrowing his eyes at him, taking glances at him more than once or twice. Kenny stared back with his own defiant glare, not knowing what could have possibly been going through Genta's mind. He could sense the energy emanating off Genta. It was so powerful, one didn't even need to be sensitive to these things to feel it. Facing him in battle wouldn't be a smart idea. Kenny wasn't even sure if Wagner and Julian combined could take him on.
"Anta ga dare?" Who are you? Genta suddenly said in Japanese.
"Dare ga shiritai?" Who wants to know? Kenny shot back.
"You understood," Genta smiled, switching to back to English. "I thought you looked familiar."
"What?"
Genta turned to face Aaron. "Friend of yours?" he asked him, tipping his chin in Kenny's direction.
"Your fight is with me, Genta!" Aaron said, the urgency rising in his voice.
Genta raised pointed his palm at Kenny, who only looked back in confusion. But confusion turned into fear when he saw a purple hued fireball appear in it hand, and he suddenly felt the chi in the air raise exponentially. Aaron's mouth gaped open in shock as he tried to run to tackle Genta, to stop him from firing the projectile attack, but fear kept him rooted to the spot.
"The resemblance in astounding," Genta said with amusement. "Everything you hold dearest, Issei Sensei." And the shot was fired.