Will and Fate
By Jeremy
Interlude I
June 11, 1997
There was quite a crowd awaiting the exit of Albert Sellers, England's famous Minister of Justice. And there was a definite reason for that. For months now, Sellers had led his ministry in a grand crusade against drugs, and had, by his genuine concern for childrens' future and his charismatic, rousing speeches, gathered much admiration from the English populace, the rest of Great Britain's government and even from people outside the rainy, vibrant island that he called his home.
Many liked him. Most respected him. But some were very annoyed by the minister's crusade, angered at the fact that more and more people were listening to what he was saying. These angered people soon decided to make an example of the fat, determined man.
Cammy White - who knew her own name only because she had been allowed it - cared not at all about the conflict between those that abided by the law and those that did not. She had been told to eliminate this man, and from that moment on he was nothing but a target, those who would be in her way mere obstacles. She would do as the Presence that dictated her every thoughts dictated now. And that was to kill.
She waited in the crowd, surrounded by expectant people who filled the air with excited conversation and impatient noises. All this she blocked. The presence told her to wait. Obeying, she closed her eyes and waited, immobile.
"Here they come!" said an excited voice. Immediately her eyes opened and she slowly raised her head to look at the scene with analytical blue eyes that seemed - to others - to be devoid of humanity. Indeed the target was descending the stairs of the old, majestic building, looking relaxed and satisfied. She followed his descent as he answered various questions affably, her eyes fanatically looking for the right time to act, unblinking and intense. Still, the Presence told her to wait. So she did.
Sellers had arrived at the bottom of the stairs, where the door to his limo was being opened by a bodyguard. As the man was about to answer, a reporter approached him from behind.
"Mister Sellers, could we have statement?" he asked.
Sellers turned to answer...
Now! Commanded the Presence. At once she surged throught the crowd, shoving people -who weren't people to her anymore - aside with cold haste. So focused on the reporter they were that the Ministers's bodyguards didn't see her coming before she had cleaved throught the crowd, tearing off the red coat she had been wearing and which had been hampering her movements. Two obstacles fell into view, blocking her way to the target and starting to draw pistols out of their black coats. Immediately, both the the Presence and her own instinctive abilities came to the fore, and she launched in the air, using her momentum and her uncanny dexterity, to swing around in midair, revolving completely around and knocking both obstacles with strong kicks in the face. Knowing they couldn't have been councious after such a strike, Cammy followed the Presence's orders and resumed her attack without missing a beat. The target recoiled when he saw her barreling towards him, but then another obstacle put himself between she and it, pushing the frightened Minister out of the way.
She barely needed to do anything with this one, so opened was his defence. Before he could react, she had shoved her forearm into his face with all her strength, knocking him out. She resumed her set course without a backward glance, the Presence urging her on.
She finally grabbed her fleeing target, turning him around with an energy that belied her size. As he stared down at her, scared and astounded, the presence spoke through her.
"Going somewhere, Mister Sellers?" It sneered with her voice, than smirked slightly at the total lack of response it got from the target. Kill him, it then commanded. She obeyed
Jumping up, grasping the sides of the man's neck, she swung around, snapping it with a resounding sound that everyone in the vicinity heard well. She then dropped, planting her feet into his back, snapping his spinal column in half.
No one could ever survive such an ordeal. Sellers was dead. The Presence rejoyed, then dictated her to flee the scene. Scrambling from the corpse, she made her run. Unfortunately, in the moments it had taken her to complete her mission, other bodyguards had come from around, and chased her.
At first she did well. One tried to grab her, she grasped his arm and broke it, effectively knocking him out momentarily. The second one, she nailed with a direct kick to the face. The third was throwned expertly as he tried to grab her.
But she never saw the fourth coming. He came from behind, grabbing her tightly and using his body weight to drag her down. Unable to find leverage, she indeed did go down.
And soon other bodyguards were helping him.
* * * * * * * * * *
They weren't going to make it. To Giorgio Castillo, veteran NATO soldier, now serving in the SCD of MI6, it was as clear as daylight and more frustrating than Hell itself. Gripping the wheel of his more-than modified Humvee, he started to spit off spanish curses that would have made any reasonable person who knew the particular language run for his or her life. Fortunately, the two peopl who heard the curses had little-to-none knowledge of it, and as such showed nothing but annoyance. One of them, in particular, was actually pissed of by them.
"Would you stop shouting in your mike, damn it?!? It's distracting, you know!" snapped Cindy's voice throught the communication device the two passengers wore.
"Oh, my sincerest apologies, nina! " retorted the spanish acidely, "I tend to get quick at cursing when someone's about to get murdered and that I won't even be there to try and do something about it!"
"You'll be there in a minute anyway. And its not like its our fault! We learned of the assassination attempt at the last second."
"I KNOW!! Dios! Mark must have dragged his trasero with that one! "grumbled the man.
"Mark did the best he could!!! Ohh, enough. Jeremy, darlin', talk to him. I can't take more of him."
The young passenger of the humvee, dressed in kaki pants, black t-shirt and wearing a kaki coat with his name and affiliation, turned from where he had been looking at rapidly passing buuildings, shrugged and looked at the older driver with even grey eyes.
"Please calm down, okay?" he said with utter calm, immediately turning back to watch the blurry scenery that London's streets had become in the mad drive.
"Thanks, that was a LOT of help." muttered the woman dejectedly. "Giorgio, you should arrive within two minutes. Target is a Shadowlaw target, probably Level Four danger level. I'll be standing by and I DON'T want to hear anymore curses." and with that warning, she signed off.
"Your wishes are my command." The spanish man said with mock politeness, signing off himself. He grinned, sparing a look at the other man. "Cindy certainly is a pain in the ass sometimes, heh?" a noncommital shrug was all he git in answer, and not for the first time he felt uneasy with the young man.
It was about two and a half years ago that Steve Hemmerson had brought the youth with him from America. They had all been curious - Giorgio included - about the new recruit. The first time the spanish had seen him, he had seen a scarred teenager that kept his feelings tightly in check within himself. The mild-mannered, brown-haired american really seemed not to care where he was and who he was with, as long as it was as far as the tragedy he had lived as possible.
The only things that had set this athletic teenager apart from most others was the indomitable will that blazed forth from his grey eyes, and a fighting aura quite above the norm. All had seen these qualities - already hinted by Mark's report and Steve's observations - and had like what they were seeing. Major Brisby had thus officially accepted him into the ranks of the SCD.
Never had they regretted that decision. Members soon gave him extensive training in their proper fields of expertise. Erika, their ace pilot, gave him piloting lessons and tweaked up his driving skills with her usual tomboy enthusiasm, while Robert, the uncanny marksman, gave cold and patient lessons on the uses of weapons and marksmanship, and Cindy taught him about communication and the inner workings of the shadowy world they faced, all the while making teasing sexual hints that sent even the usually calm youth into different shades of red and pink. Mark, for his part, initiated him to computers, technology and, with less success, to the joys of brandy. As for Steve, he took to training the boy in the fighting arts used in the MI6 Division.
The youth went into his training like his life depended on it - Joan, their psychologist, actually pointed out that it may have been his sanity he was saving - and soaked in what he was taught like a sponge. Within six months, he was a fair marksman - althought not one of the best, for he seemed to genuinely loathe weapons. He cou;d pilot well enough, use computers adequately, and, well, knew how to fight. Very well. By six months of nearly-fanatical work, he could fight Steve toe-to-toe with ease. Right now, one year and a half after the official end of his formation, he now could beat him around if he wanted to - Steve or anyone else in the team beside Giorgio Castillo himself, and that was only because the veteran had many years of experience over the younger agent. And even that wouldn't hold out long. And that - combined with the calm, even outlook the kid had, made him uneasy.
"We're here." said the subject of Giorgio's reflections, bringing him back to reality instantly.
They had indeed arrived. He could see the grand building where Justice Minister Sellers had given what could only be a rousing oration against drugs and syndicates which sell them about. Among those he had often detracted, the honest man had targetted Shadowlaw. And, unfortunately, Shadowlaw couldn't have helped but to hear. And were about to act.
Or, rather, were acting. There was a distinctive raucus going on near Sellers' limo. Understanding flashed immediately, and the soldier slammed the brakes, screeching the vehicle to a halt. Both men were out of it and moving towards the scene as soon as it stopped.
"Mission commencing. Primary objective..." he suddenly saw a broken body that was unquestionably Sellers "...failed! Mierda! Switching to secondary objective!"
"Understood." Cindy responded, all traces of irritation and humor gone. "Proceed with capture of target." Her link cut off with that. As sson as she did, Giorgio quickly and expertly found the target he wanted. Not that the task was hard: the Shadowlaw assassin was being pinned down by no less than five bodyguards, who seemed to be mightily struggling to do just that.
Coldly, with the ease of the elite soldier he was, Castillo assessed the assassin for a moment. Young. Female. Long blond hair. Good build. Short height. Obviously skilled, or those overlong braids would hinder... he trailed off mentally as he got a better look at the target. And then was stunned by his own revelation. "B-but that's..." he stammered softly.
"Fools! You're giving her too much leverage!" bellowed Jeremy, closing the distance with determined speed. Giorgio cursed at himself for not noticing that fact. Yes, the captive was being given too much room. What incompetents! In a flash he drew and readied his sidearm, which was already loaded with tranquilizer darts that could put down a small elephant.
Pushing aside bystanders that were in his way, Jeremy slammed into the Shadowlaw agent just as she was freeing herself - as they both feared. The plunge took them both down, Jeremy on top. He didn't stay in this position long, however, as he was pushed over and away by the agent's feet and his own tremendous momentum. He recovered in an instant, rolling and flipping back into a fighting stance. The agent, already on her feet, prepared to attack, turning her back on Giorgio.
The spanish soldier, knowing he had a golden opportunity, aimed and fired.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cammy had just readied herself into the praticed stance dictated by the Presence, intent on dispatching this new obstacle with haste, when she felt a numbing pain at her right shoulder. She whirled around instintively, knowing she was making a grave mistake doing so. She tried to recover, to turn back toward her opponent. However, the drug was already starting to do its work, and when her opponent slammed expertly into her again, she went sprawling down.. They hit the ground again, and she felt herself losing coherence. Stil the Presence was screaming at her to fight, to survive, to kill, but all she managed to do was throw a single punch at the grey-eyed obstacle who was holding her down. But her strength and speed were faded, and her last shot was so weak he intercepted her fist without a problem. The Presence screamed at her again, but this time she could do nothing else.
Suddenly, it felt silent. The Presence was gone, something that had never happened before. And with that, something surged forward. Something familiar, long-faded from her. Something locked away by the presence, something that always seemed to batter away at the wall erected in her counciousness. For a few moment, the something found itself free and took control of what little remained of her counciousness. It was thus that she found herself grasping the hand that had held her fist a second before, and looked with her diminishing vision into the eyes of this grey-eyed, brown-haired...
...person?
"Please...help...me..." she pleaded in a whisper, not understanding exactly what she was saying or why, just knowing that it somehow was the right thing to say.
And just before she lost counciousness, she heard a soft answer.
"I will. Somehow."
And then, all was blackness.
_____________________________________________________________________
Yep, that it for the interlude! I know its short, but its only to get you into the thick of what'll be going on in the next part. Hope you like it!
In chapter 9: Cammy is under Bison's control. As Chunli, Jeremy and other people try to help her, Bison faces two men who as a team prove to be his match! But what happens afterwards?
See ya! Please give me ideas and feedback!
By Jeremy
Interlude I
June 11, 1997
There was quite a crowd awaiting the exit of Albert Sellers, England's famous Minister of Justice. And there was a definite reason for that. For months now, Sellers had led his ministry in a grand crusade against drugs, and had, by his genuine concern for childrens' future and his charismatic, rousing speeches, gathered much admiration from the English populace, the rest of Great Britain's government and even from people outside the rainy, vibrant island that he called his home.
Many liked him. Most respected him. But some were very annoyed by the minister's crusade, angered at the fact that more and more people were listening to what he was saying. These angered people soon decided to make an example of the fat, determined man.
Cammy White - who knew her own name only because she had been allowed it - cared not at all about the conflict between those that abided by the law and those that did not. She had been told to eliminate this man, and from that moment on he was nothing but a target, those who would be in her way mere obstacles. She would do as the Presence that dictated her every thoughts dictated now. And that was to kill.
She waited in the crowd, surrounded by expectant people who filled the air with excited conversation and impatient noises. All this she blocked. The presence told her to wait. Obeying, she closed her eyes and waited, immobile.
"Here they come!" said an excited voice. Immediately her eyes opened and she slowly raised her head to look at the scene with analytical blue eyes that seemed - to others - to be devoid of humanity. Indeed the target was descending the stairs of the old, majestic building, looking relaxed and satisfied. She followed his descent as he answered various questions affably, her eyes fanatically looking for the right time to act, unblinking and intense. Still, the Presence told her to wait. So she did.
Sellers had arrived at the bottom of the stairs, where the door to his limo was being opened by a bodyguard. As the man was about to answer, a reporter approached him from behind.
"Mister Sellers, could we have statement?" he asked.
Sellers turned to answer...
Now! Commanded the Presence. At once she surged throught the crowd, shoving people -who weren't people to her anymore - aside with cold haste. So focused on the reporter they were that the Ministers's bodyguards didn't see her coming before she had cleaved throught the crowd, tearing off the red coat she had been wearing and which had been hampering her movements. Two obstacles fell into view, blocking her way to the target and starting to draw pistols out of their black coats. Immediately, both the the Presence and her own instinctive abilities came to the fore, and she launched in the air, using her momentum and her uncanny dexterity, to swing around in midair, revolving completely around and knocking both obstacles with strong kicks in the face. Knowing they couldn't have been councious after such a strike, Cammy followed the Presence's orders and resumed her attack without missing a beat. The target recoiled when he saw her barreling towards him, but then another obstacle put himself between she and it, pushing the frightened Minister out of the way.
She barely needed to do anything with this one, so opened was his defence. Before he could react, she had shoved her forearm into his face with all her strength, knocking him out. She resumed her set course without a backward glance, the Presence urging her on.
She finally grabbed her fleeing target, turning him around with an energy that belied her size. As he stared down at her, scared and astounded, the presence spoke through her.
"Going somewhere, Mister Sellers?" It sneered with her voice, than smirked slightly at the total lack of response it got from the target. Kill him, it then commanded. She obeyed
Jumping up, grasping the sides of the man's neck, she swung around, snapping it with a resounding sound that everyone in the vicinity heard well. She then dropped, planting her feet into his back, snapping his spinal column in half.
No one could ever survive such an ordeal. Sellers was dead. The Presence rejoyed, then dictated her to flee the scene. Scrambling from the corpse, she made her run. Unfortunately, in the moments it had taken her to complete her mission, other bodyguards had come from around, and chased her.
At first she did well. One tried to grab her, she grasped his arm and broke it, effectively knocking him out momentarily. The second one, she nailed with a direct kick to the face. The third was throwned expertly as he tried to grab her.
But she never saw the fourth coming. He came from behind, grabbing her tightly and using his body weight to drag her down. Unable to find leverage, she indeed did go down.
And soon other bodyguards were helping him.
* * * * * * * * * *
They weren't going to make it. To Giorgio Castillo, veteran NATO soldier, now serving in the SCD of MI6, it was as clear as daylight and more frustrating than Hell itself. Gripping the wheel of his more-than modified Humvee, he started to spit off spanish curses that would have made any reasonable person who knew the particular language run for his or her life. Fortunately, the two peopl who heard the curses had little-to-none knowledge of it, and as such showed nothing but annoyance. One of them, in particular, was actually pissed of by them.
"Would you stop shouting in your mike, damn it?!? It's distracting, you know!" snapped Cindy's voice throught the communication device the two passengers wore.
"Oh, my sincerest apologies, nina! " retorted the spanish acidely, "I tend to get quick at cursing when someone's about to get murdered and that I won't even be there to try and do something about it!"
"You'll be there in a minute anyway. And its not like its our fault! We learned of the assassination attempt at the last second."
"I KNOW!! Dios! Mark must have dragged his trasero with that one! "grumbled the man.
"Mark did the best he could!!! Ohh, enough. Jeremy, darlin', talk to him. I can't take more of him."
The young passenger of the humvee, dressed in kaki pants, black t-shirt and wearing a kaki coat with his name and affiliation, turned from where he had been looking at rapidly passing buuildings, shrugged and looked at the older driver with even grey eyes.
"Please calm down, okay?" he said with utter calm, immediately turning back to watch the blurry scenery that London's streets had become in the mad drive.
"Thanks, that was a LOT of help." muttered the woman dejectedly. "Giorgio, you should arrive within two minutes. Target is a Shadowlaw target, probably Level Four danger level. I'll be standing by and I DON'T want to hear anymore curses." and with that warning, she signed off.
"Your wishes are my command." The spanish man said with mock politeness, signing off himself. He grinned, sparing a look at the other man. "Cindy certainly is a pain in the ass sometimes, heh?" a noncommital shrug was all he git in answer, and not for the first time he felt uneasy with the young man.
It was about two and a half years ago that Steve Hemmerson had brought the youth with him from America. They had all been curious - Giorgio included - about the new recruit. The first time the spanish had seen him, he had seen a scarred teenager that kept his feelings tightly in check within himself. The mild-mannered, brown-haired american really seemed not to care where he was and who he was with, as long as it was as far as the tragedy he had lived as possible.
The only things that had set this athletic teenager apart from most others was the indomitable will that blazed forth from his grey eyes, and a fighting aura quite above the norm. All had seen these qualities - already hinted by Mark's report and Steve's observations - and had like what they were seeing. Major Brisby had thus officially accepted him into the ranks of the SCD.
Never had they regretted that decision. Members soon gave him extensive training in their proper fields of expertise. Erika, their ace pilot, gave him piloting lessons and tweaked up his driving skills with her usual tomboy enthusiasm, while Robert, the uncanny marksman, gave cold and patient lessons on the uses of weapons and marksmanship, and Cindy taught him about communication and the inner workings of the shadowy world they faced, all the while making teasing sexual hints that sent even the usually calm youth into different shades of red and pink. Mark, for his part, initiated him to computers, technology and, with less success, to the joys of brandy. As for Steve, he took to training the boy in the fighting arts used in the MI6 Division.
The youth went into his training like his life depended on it - Joan, their psychologist, actually pointed out that it may have been his sanity he was saving - and soaked in what he was taught like a sponge. Within six months, he was a fair marksman - althought not one of the best, for he seemed to genuinely loathe weapons. He cou;d pilot well enough, use computers adequately, and, well, knew how to fight. Very well. By six months of nearly-fanatical work, he could fight Steve toe-to-toe with ease. Right now, one year and a half after the official end of his formation, he now could beat him around if he wanted to - Steve or anyone else in the team beside Giorgio Castillo himself, and that was only because the veteran had many years of experience over the younger agent. And even that wouldn't hold out long. And that - combined with the calm, even outlook the kid had, made him uneasy.
"We're here." said the subject of Giorgio's reflections, bringing him back to reality instantly.
They had indeed arrived. He could see the grand building where Justice Minister Sellers had given what could only be a rousing oration against drugs and syndicates which sell them about. Among those he had often detracted, the honest man had targetted Shadowlaw. And, unfortunately, Shadowlaw couldn't have helped but to hear. And were about to act.
Or, rather, were acting. There was a distinctive raucus going on near Sellers' limo. Understanding flashed immediately, and the soldier slammed the brakes, screeching the vehicle to a halt. Both men were out of it and moving towards the scene as soon as it stopped.
"Mission commencing. Primary objective..." he suddenly saw a broken body that was unquestionably Sellers "...failed! Mierda! Switching to secondary objective!"
"Understood." Cindy responded, all traces of irritation and humor gone. "Proceed with capture of target." Her link cut off with that. As sson as she did, Giorgio quickly and expertly found the target he wanted. Not that the task was hard: the Shadowlaw assassin was being pinned down by no less than five bodyguards, who seemed to be mightily struggling to do just that.
Coldly, with the ease of the elite soldier he was, Castillo assessed the assassin for a moment. Young. Female. Long blond hair. Good build. Short height. Obviously skilled, or those overlong braids would hinder... he trailed off mentally as he got a better look at the target. And then was stunned by his own revelation. "B-but that's..." he stammered softly.
"Fools! You're giving her too much leverage!" bellowed Jeremy, closing the distance with determined speed. Giorgio cursed at himself for not noticing that fact. Yes, the captive was being given too much room. What incompetents! In a flash he drew and readied his sidearm, which was already loaded with tranquilizer darts that could put down a small elephant.
Pushing aside bystanders that were in his way, Jeremy slammed into the Shadowlaw agent just as she was freeing herself - as they both feared. The plunge took them both down, Jeremy on top. He didn't stay in this position long, however, as he was pushed over and away by the agent's feet and his own tremendous momentum. He recovered in an instant, rolling and flipping back into a fighting stance. The agent, already on her feet, prepared to attack, turning her back on Giorgio.
The spanish soldier, knowing he had a golden opportunity, aimed and fired.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cammy had just readied herself into the praticed stance dictated by the Presence, intent on dispatching this new obstacle with haste, when she felt a numbing pain at her right shoulder. She whirled around instintively, knowing she was making a grave mistake doing so. She tried to recover, to turn back toward her opponent. However, the drug was already starting to do its work, and when her opponent slammed expertly into her again, she went sprawling down.. They hit the ground again, and she felt herself losing coherence. Stil the Presence was screaming at her to fight, to survive, to kill, but all she managed to do was throw a single punch at the grey-eyed obstacle who was holding her down. But her strength and speed were faded, and her last shot was so weak he intercepted her fist without a problem. The Presence screamed at her again, but this time she could do nothing else.
Suddenly, it felt silent. The Presence was gone, something that had never happened before. And with that, something surged forward. Something familiar, long-faded from her. Something locked away by the presence, something that always seemed to batter away at the wall erected in her counciousness. For a few moment, the something found itself free and took control of what little remained of her counciousness. It was thus that she found herself grasping the hand that had held her fist a second before, and looked with her diminishing vision into the eyes of this grey-eyed, brown-haired...
...person?
"Please...help...me..." she pleaded in a whisper, not understanding exactly what she was saying or why, just knowing that it somehow was the right thing to say.
And just before she lost counciousness, she heard a soft answer.
"I will. Somehow."
And then, all was blackness.
_____________________________________________________________________
Yep, that it for the interlude! I know its short, but its only to get you into the thick of what'll be going on in the next part. Hope you like it!
In chapter 9: Cammy is under Bison's control. As Chunli, Jeremy and other people try to help her, Bison faces two men who as a team prove to be his match! But what happens afterwards?
See ya! Please give me ideas and feedback!
