Will and Fate
By Jeremy
Chapter 15
September 21, 1997
A week. It had been a week since two young people, angry, said and did things they didn't mean. It hadn't been a comfortable week, even thought there were no assignments form them yet and that they could relax. The atmosphere was all but relaxed in London's SCD HQ, especially in the working room of their elite members. Cammy was well aware of just how much she felt about it. The last week had given her a lot to think about and time to think. And she had come to drastic conclusions.
The first was that Jeremy had been right about her being bossy, cutting him off and overriding him ceaselessly. She had never realized it. The memories that she had from before Shadowlaw - still hazy, these - and from what she read from her files showed that she had been like this before. She always spoke her mind, uncaring if others were in the middle of a sentence. Impulsive. Fiery. These words had been in my reports of the now-defunct leader of the Recon Division Five. She was starting to act out like that again.
But he was wrong, so wrong, when he said that what he had to say meant nothing to her. They meant much. Very much! He was bright and wiser than he often gave himself credit for, and he often came up with astute observations, whether they were about fights, politics, or simply about the best way to eat rice. She couldn't help but smile. Ibuki and he had gotten into a polite but intense clash about the very subject. They were so serious about it, one might not have believed that the subject was so silly. No, what he said ALWAYS meant something to her.
Which brought her to the core of the problem. What, exactly, did she feel about him? She was certain, at first, that it was a form of friendship, or at least a deep respect. That she soon found to be wrong, when she thought about it. Ever since that time in Ireland, it had seemed to her that his voice had gained something undefinable, that made it undearing. Everytime he turned his intelligent, steel-gray eyes on her, she felt the urge to smile. It made her happy. But what shocked her was something she realized only after the 'incident' with him.
Ever since Shadowlaw, and the terrifying memories she had of it, she couldn't stand men touching her, in any way. Oh, she nver let it show - her pride never would have allowed it. But everytime a man, even a trustworthy comrade like Steve or Giorgio gave her a friendly or teasing pat - on the head, the arm, the place mattered little - she felt a tremor of fear, and in the back of her head, a very small voice, an echo of the painful memories, cried 'No...please... don't hurt me again.' She was completely terrified of being touched.
But not with Jeremy.
The few times Jeremy had actually touched her - a slap on the back, a hand grasping her shoulder in a friendly fashion - she had felt no tremor, no voice. It hadn't really struck her until then, but whereas she shied away from thinking about men as a rule, she sometimes caught herself thinking strange thoughts like 'I wonder how it would feel to kiss him?' or 'He looks so cute!' These thought she attempted to squash flat, but they stubbornly refused, drifting back from time to time. And it came down to something very clear: she didn't just LIKE the young Storm.
"Could I possibly be in LOVE with him?" she thought outloud, softly. She felt dazed about it, but found the idea had appeal.
"If ol' Jer's the 'him' in that sentence, I'm gonna have to tell you its about time you figured that out." stated a light, melodious voice.
"Nemmi. Didn't realise I spoke that loud." said Cammy, a little flustered about the whole thing.
"You didn't But you've been looking intense and in the midst of a great revelation, and I eaves dropped." the woman retorted. She then snickered. "And all to learn that you've only figured out you love Jer. I'd laugh if I could."
From anyone else, the braided woman wouldn't have taken that critic. However, Nemmi Shiwasa never held her tongue about private things, and so she had to live with it. Young, only eighteen, she'd been taken into the SCD by Micheal, her unofficial mentor, only four months after Jeremy had been brought by Steve from his terrible personal ordeal. She herself hadn't been brought because of her fighting skills - even after two years, she was average at best - but because she was a magnificient marksman. As she was a woman living in a foster home she rather disliked, she had readily accepted the great gunslinger's offer to join the SCD. There she had spent the next three months mooning over Jeremy, who was only five months her senior.
Maybe that was the reason for what she spoke next, with just a little hint of jealousy. "Three months I stuck to him like glue, and he was so buried under his grief, I probably could have stripped in front of him and gotten nothing more then raised eyebrows. But you, just hint that you're in the room and he's off in Heaven!"
"I...I don't think I'm having that kind of effect on him." Cammy stuttered. Suddenly the young Chinese looked cross."
"Aww, shoot!" she growled. "Maybe you've been blind to it all, but WE haven't! We've seen his face, the way he smiled when he thought about you. We all were bright enough to tell that he had the hots for you!"
"What?!?"
"Buddah! Do I have to spell it out for you? He loves you. L-O-V-E. Four letters. Very simple word. And before you even ASK, can tell you that its been a while longer that he's realised it."
To say that Cammy was stunned, at this point, would be like calling the ocean a lake. She was beyond words. Jeremy LOVED her? That couldn't be, right? How could he love someone who ignored him the first half he's known her, and stepped over him the other half? It was impossible. A guy like that could be dating nonstop, if he only dared to show his face at a disco or the like. Love her? No. Couldn't be. And even if it REMOTELY was possible...
"I don't think he even LIKES me anymore, after what happened." she said sadly.
The young asian looked at her with a grave expression, as if she was deciding whether to continue talking or pass her way and let the conversation drop. Cammy hoped for the latter, and was somewhat disappointed when the former came about. What she said surprised her.
"Nah. He still loves you. He's just sad. And guilty. Very guilty."
Without thinking, the braided, athlectic SCD brought her hand and rubbed the place where HIS fist had connected, and had struck her to her soul. A quick gesture, but not one that could escape the quick eyes of a marswoman like Nemmi. The asian's eyes widened.
"OH, BUDDAH, GOD AND JESUS! He's the one who gave you that mark?!? But why?!?" she was fairly screeching by now. "What happened back then? Oh, when I get my hands on that man..."
"No, its not really his fault." she cut in, knowing she was again cutting off someone and this time not caring. "I...I think I'll go home and...and think this all over." she stood up from her desk, while Nemmi looked at her with blinking black eyes.
"But, can't you at least tell me..."
"No." she didn't want to talk about it. She had other things on her mind. Very confusing things. She left deskroom without a backward glance. On her way she passed two SCD grunts. Not elite these. Just soldiers attached to the organisation. They gave a salute and let her pass through. If they saw her distraught expression, they said nothing about it. After all, it wasn't their job. She wouldn't have answered anyway.
'He loved me. Not anymore. And its all my fault.'
She didn't know what to do anymore. She cared about him, she was sure of it, but now, how to tell him.
'I had the chance to find someone who understood. And I blew it. Completely blew it. Now he hates me, thinks I consider him worthless. He'd prefer if Bison had me still, I'm sure.'
She felt the tears a while after she left Headquarters. How long they were there, she didn't know. Didn't care. For she had found out about something else.
She found that, ever since he hit her, she had always been crying...in her heart.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
"Do you still like blueberry pancakes?"
"What does that have to do with what we are discussing?"
"Nothing at all. But just answer, for now."
"Well...yes."
"Good! Then blueberry pancakes it will be today, Marcel. With the usual standard."
This conversation was held at the private dining room where many coferences had been held by Irish politicians and the powerful people of Limerick. At the dining room table - a rectanglar, rich oak thing - seven men sat. All were high members of the Circle in Limerick, directly below Everick and, of course, Kale, who had just transgressed the reunion to have the little talk about pancakes. No one would have faulted their young leader, of course. Those who did often got a very unpleasant, very lethal dispositions afterwards.
The chef bowed and left, and Kale's smiling face - he always seemed to be smiling about something - once again fixed the assembled men. "Well, now, where were we?"
A Circle member, a hard-faced man of late thirties, coughed slightly. "Err...I was saying, milord, that attacking SCD may have severe repercussions on our status. The Elders may disapprove, and if they do..."
"They will not if we are successful." Everick interjected. The five other men squirmed in their seats when he passed his stony gaze upon them. For a while no one dared speak.
"Yes, but, milord, the SCD are rumored to have within their personel, an Elite sub-division that could hinder our raid greatly." That from another member, a small, slim woman with hawkish features.
Kale lay back, his smile not faltering a second, his demeanor as calm and amused as it ever was. He seemed not to make anything of his subordinate's comment, and that did not displease those assembled. He scratched his chin in seeming thought, then faced the woman squarely, with an ever-widening smile.
"Tell me, fair Querra, " he asked pleasantly "Are you of the opinion that I'm being...reckless?"
Everyone around the table - even Everick - held their breath at that, while the young woman became pale. Although he presented a pleasant exterior, they all knew Kale possessed great ruthlessness, and had a very marked taste for slaughter. He kept these pulsions in check, but the few examples of them gave those at this table more than enough reasons to fear an outburst. Querra, although cold and ruthless herself, seemed to shrink back under the close watch of the merry eyes that hid all of their true feelings.
"I...milord...I w-would never..." she stammered.
"Of course not!" was the joyous reply "I know no one here would dare think that." He stopped then, pausing to make his point. "Now, Astheril, are the forces ready?"
"Just about, milord." the smaller lord seemed to hesitate. "However, I must say that a the present time, the SCD that are present in London are far too strong to."
"Ah, my friends, such gloom! Worry not! Even now, one works to weaken these very SCD you all fear so much. When the time is right will we attack, not before then."
"And how will that be?" asked Everick, the only one who seemed utterly calm in the group. Not surprising, as the two leaders were friends.
"You will know. The person I talk about will tell us."
He looked at the assembled high-ups that ran the workings of Limerick and other holdings, encompassing the whole room with a gaze that was more spellbinding that amused. A glint of purple shimmered in his eyes.
"Do trust me on this," he stated softly, his smile gone for a single moment. "As you always should."
* * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later...
There were situations that Jeremy Storm didn't like. There were others he actually abhorred. Unfortunately, he reflected as he looked at the faces of Nemmi, Giogio and Joan, he seemed to be squarely into the latter category. What was worse, he knew why they looked at him in such displeased way, and the honest part of his self couldn't find fault with them, annoying as they seemed to be. So he sat at his desk and waited for the firing squad to open fire.
Nemmi, who had an attitude even more abrasive than the defunct Cindy, thrust forward first. "I think its about time we had a talk about this, Jer."
"About what?" he asked, even though he knew quite well. Not the thing to say, he realised, as the three persons in front and around him seemed to grow more tense, and colder as well. This wasn't about to be fun.
"You KNOW what!" the asian fairly screeched "We have to make you se that its about time that you guys buried the hatchet on whatever happened a week ago!" The older agents nodded at that.
Jeremy nodded himself. "I'll be willing to bury it if she comes and apologises. Not before."
Joan, in her all-wise way, shook her fair head. "That won't happen. It would be better if you opened up first and started the healing by apologising for whatever happened."
Jeremy gritted his teeth, his fists balls of tensions that were demanding release. He had to talk. Of course. Whenever something when even the slightest bit wrong between the two of them, it had to be him who had to apologise. He supposed it was fair, up to a point. Or at least it was when she had no hands on her emotions. However, she had emotions now. He was starting to be fed up being a second rate nanny to someone who had spent two months looking for something that made him look like a man feared and hated.
"No." he stated "She started this whole mess, let her make the first step. That is the order of things."
Giorgio huffed at this, spreading his athletic arms. "Oh, madre de dio! Desperto, nino!" he growled, switching to his native spanish in his irritation. "That girl won't even try to talk to you. She doesn't know how!"
"She's no child! She can certainly trudge her ass her and say 'I'm sorry'!" he retorted hotly.
Joan brought her hands down on the desk in impatience, making the others start. She had a dark look on that face of hers, which did not bode well. "Jer, you know she's not used enough with those emotions to know the right way to say something like this. Right now she feels lost, alone. Its understandable when someone like her feels betrayed." The last touch was said with an hint of accusation.
Jeremy's grey eyes flashed in anger. "Betrayed? I'M not the one who compared her to Bison!" he growled fiercely. "You guys just don't know what your talking about!"
"Then tell us! Tell us what happened back there, in Buddah's name!" cried a frustrated Nemmi.
"FINE! I'll tell you! Then I do hope you'll have the decency to leave me to what's my own damn business!" And he told them.
It was harder than he thought, as he knew he had acted badly in his own way. He told about the fight with the punk, the unwitting intervention on Cammy's part, his attempts to explain, and her terrible, heart-shattering accusation. Then the social worker's arrival, departure, the coldness that was installed afterwards and finally - and hardest of all - the punch that he had used to push her away. God, how it hurt! He never meant to hit her, but her words, her words, had been like acid, destroying his reason for a while.
He looked away as he finished. "So, there. Now you know. What's the use, guys? Why should I go apologise to someone who never thought me anything more than a dumb thug, someone who compared me to Bison!"
All he received in answer was a sound, if not harmful, whack on the head. He looked up in surprise and indignation at a Giorgio that seemed caught between anger, amusement and exasperation.
"Amigo, I thought a lot of things of you when you came here, and some wound up to be true. But I've never thought you an idioto and at that I was right. Don't start proving me wrong."
"Oh, get outta town, Giorgio! You weren't there! You didn't hear her spout that nonsense. She had no reason to say that!!!"
"Agreed. And were you any different with what you did?" interjected Joan coldly.
That made him pause for a moment. Fact was, he DID think his last act went a little overboard, and did not belong to his set of morals. Strange, when you thought about it. Giorgio had killed many times for the organizations he worked for, as had Nemmi here, and Michael had done many assassinations for the English governments. That didn't mean these people, and the other soldiers who worked her, were bad, but they weren't angels, either, when the situation called. Why were they so concerned about a little tap. The thought made Jeremy angry.
"Oh, don't start with that. Its not like I killed her. I only gave her something back for months of verbal abuse!" he was starting to spout nonsense, he knew. Verbal abuse? Where did THAT tidbit come from? The others didn't seem to be convinced by his latest argument. He couldn't entirely blame them.
It was Nemmi who pounced next. "You are the truest version of a baka I've ever seen. Don't you see that she loves you?!?" she cried in frustration.
That was when he laughed.
It wasn't an happy laugh, for the laughter didn't reach the eyes, which were still locked in their angry mien. It was fierce an outburst, filled with anger and bitterness, and a deep sadness that only a fool wouldn't feel. He stood up while he laughed, giving them all a glare, and managed to get it under control, minimizing it to a few chuckles. While he did this, he grabbed the dictionary that he used to write complicated reports, opened it, and flipped the sheets almost savagely until he came to a certain place. Getting his throat and voice under control, he spoke softly, filled with tension.
"Love, " he read. "n.v. loved, loving. One: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, especially when based on sexual attraction. Two: a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection. Three: a person towards whom love is felt. Four...oh the hell with that." he gave a sickly, victorious smile to the other three agents. "I'm sorry but I've never seen anything from her, ANYTHING, that ressembles that description!" he slammed the dictionary shut.
Joan shook her head. "Jer..."
"Was nice talking to you guys. No I've got some things to discuss with Mark." he turned to go, but was stopped by Giorgio's strong hand on his shoulder. He turned back to stare coldly. "Don't Giorgio. Don't pick a fight. You'll lose."
"Even so, I can't let you walk away from this." was the even reply.
Both men were tense, ready to snap, and a fight migh have ensued, if Joan hadn't come between them.
"That's enough of that male toughness! Jer, you're right: she doesn't show you any of that. But I'll tell you what she DOES. She lets you near her, something she almost never lets us do. She's never asked for another partner, never complained. And I've seen her SMILE at you. She's never done THAT to anyone else but you. Surely you must realise that!"
Silence. He was finding himself without words again. And she wasn't done with him yet, but continued in an earnest voice.
"I'm not asking you to forgive what she said, Jer. I'm just asking you to go talk to her. Please. I know you care for her. You don't hate her, you're just hurt. Please. She needs you."
Still the same silence. With a jerk, he disengaged his shoulder from Giorgio's now relaxed arm. He was angry still, but also amused somewhat. Trust Joan to find the right words, the right reasons. Damn her for seeing throught to him. Damn her for forcing him into something he didn't feel ready for yet.
Damn her for being right.
He gave weak smile. "Fine, fine, doctor. I can see why you're the psychologist here. I'll go talk to her, but I promise nothing. Now, I've got things to do." with that, he left, without looking back. He wasn't stopped. He knew that the decision was the right one. This couldn't go on. It simply couldn't.
But he'd be damned if he knew what he could say to change the situation.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ten minutes later...
The walk to her appartment was a lonely one. Strange, but she never realised that before. What reason could she have? It was the same road she had always taken, almost always alone at that. A few times, yes, Jeremy had tagged along when they had to go somewhere right after that, or when he had to tell her something he had forgotten about. A very few times Joan had been with her, and Giorgio had walked her once after an especially tiring mission. She had never figured the trip as a lonely one. Now she did. What was up with that?
Was she so addled, her wits so mazed, that she was tinging everything with fatalism now?
She couldn't say, except that she had a lot tothink about, and that she would be better doing it at her appartment. That particular building, a four-storied, grey-bricked thing, was looming a few hundred feet away, surrounded by other places of the same type. Jeremy had called places like these 'mass-living areas' and it didn't look as thought he was joking when he said it, even though his tone was light. He lived in another appartment, a bigger one. That was because, if memory served, that he had received the money his parents had left as an inheritance when he turned eighteen. It was 'a tidy sum' as he said, but never elaborated further. He seemed to receive the money with mixed feelings.
"I'm glad that my folks left me something to remember them by." she'd heard him explain to Mark once. "But I would have much prefered not to get the money, and have real parents, no pictures and other people's memories of them" Mark had told him he was quite right, and she had wanted to say the same, but didn't.
She sighed as she entered the building, trudging to the elevator that would take her to the fourth story, where she lived. It always somehow came to something she didn't say to the guy, and the feeling of guilt that became stronger and stronger each time. She still wasn't sure she loved him - heck, she wasn't yet sure of what she felt at all. She just knew that he meant something, something important, and that she had unwittingly removed that from her own existence.
'If you'd just waited for a damn explanation, none of this would have happened!' a voice said in her mind, and she couldn't deny the truth in that.
The elevator reached her level, and she walked over to her door, intent now on taking a shower, and then calling her partner to sort this out. She didn't know what she felt, that was true, but she couldn't deny the fact that they made a terrific team. He with the street knowledge, she with the military knowledge, they could take on just about anything. Yes, it would be foolish to dissolve their partnership, when it worked out so well.
She put her key into the lock and entered, intent on her trail of thinking. That was probably why, when faint alarm bells started to go off instinctively in her head, she was slow to understand and react. Something was wrong with the feel of the place. Something dangerous was in the air, but her instaincts were slightly dulled. That was why, when she was trust firmly forward by someone, she stumbled before regaining control. As the door slammed behind her, she whirled angrily and took a fierce fighting stance.
In front of her stood a rather beautiful woamn with short brown hair and eyes, dressed in a strange, black, woolen bodysuit that left her legs - well-muscled, athletic - bare. The woman made no sign that she was about to attack. In fact, she showed no sign of being about to do ANYTHING! She just stood there, like a...
...like a DOLL.
That's when she noticed the complete, utter blankness in the stranger's eyes. A blankness she knew well. After all, she seen enough tapes of the days following her caputure, had enough hazy memories, to remember that she had once had the very same robot-like expression. She then knew who that girl was, and what she was here for. And she felt terribly scared.
"You're one of Bison's zombie pawns, just like I was." she stated to the Shadowlaw agent.
The zombie then spoke. "Surrender, Cammy White. Failure to do so immediately would entail a capture by force that would cause significant physical damage."
"Advise quickly and answer, said another woman's voice, Lighter, different a voice. But just as unemotional as the first. Cammy wasn't surprised by the newest arrival. She'd been assuming someone else would be there, that Bison wouldn't pit just one fighter against her. After all, one alone could fail; two had less chances of coming up short. All logical, as devoid of hope as it seemed. She shot a look at the other drone: much the same, except she had short blond hair instead of brown.
She forced a grim smile to appear on her face. No way was she going out quaking and afraid. "And what happens if I surrender?" she spat the last word.
"Then there will be no physical damage done to yourself." was the statement, as if they were talking about the best way to cook potatoes. She almost laughed at how simple she made it sound. And how totally untrue it was. No physical damage if she surrendered?
"You must truly be zombies..." she started, then pivoted her legs, jerked upward, over the blonde snapped her foot in midair, hitting the wall and altering her trajectory, so that in barely two or three seconds she was out of the entry way and into the living room. "...if you can believe that SHIT!" she finished with growl, taking her fighting stance. The unemotional near-twins looked at each other for a moment, then stepped into the living room.
"Target has decided to resist. Agent Juli assuming offensive posture." said the brown-haired one.
"Acknowledged. Agent Juni assuming offensive posture." stated the blond drone a second later. Both then assumed a position that seemed deadly, all business, and decidedly familiar to Cammy. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the fast-paced events and give her the info.
'It should seem familiar. It closely follows my personal style.' She reflected. What had Bison done with these girls? And then she had no more time to think much, as the two attacked, silmultaneously, from different angles.
She met the first attack head-on, blocking a quick series of punches and kicks, beating off the attack only to have to fight off another. Juli came at her with a dropkick, which she dodged, giving an elbow shot to the drone's face before she recovered. As her first adversary went roling away, Juni came with a quick kick directed at her abdomen. Instinct took over at that moment, forcing her legs to make a short jump the made her enemy's foot miss by mer inches. Then she swung her leg around, catching the blond zombie in the ribs. Juni stepped back with a slight wheeze, Cammy landed on her feet again. She turned away from her momentarily difused second opponent, turning back to the first.
She had barely the time to duck the punch, and could do nothing but gasp in pain as the second connected squarely. She gave an uppercut to disengage herself, fliped back ward, near the livingroom couch. Around her, she saw that they'd already broken the television and the two vases she had in their first spat of fighting. She had never noticed.
What she had noticed, she realised more fully as her two adversaries regarded her in silence. No emotions at all. There didn't seem to be a Presence inside of them, or if there was, it in no way allowed them to expresss emotions or pain, unlike how it had been with her. Perhaps Bison had fine-tuned the 'programming'. One more reason to fight with all she had. As for she, she felt like she was fighting training dummies, for all the response she received. Yes, very quick, very dangerous dummies. That's what they were..
They attacked again, just as flawlessly and just as quickly as before. She exchanged blows with Juli and Juni consecutively, then ducked as the brown-haired drone slashed at her neck. She gathered her chi quickly, flipping and thrusting upward in one powerful move.
"CANNON SPIKE!"
The force of the chi-driven attack caught the woman squarely, and nearly ramed her throught the ceiling. She fell like a stone, hitting the floor with a thudding sound. The SCD agent came back on her feet within a moment, and received an attack by Juni. Barely, she managed to fight it off. The myriad of blows she had received thus far were taking their toll, even with all her adrenaline pumping like crazy. The attack she had just summoned had just added to the strain. But she wouldn't give up, not now. She could manage this battle yet, with one opponent down, hope for victory remained. Sh gathered her strength, tensed her legs, and sprang forward, one arm prtoecting the front, the other ready to strike from below.
As she did so, Juni crossed her arms and closed her eyes, as if she was concentrating. As the braided agent neared, she opened them again.
"Mach Slide." she whispered, and disappeared disappeared right at that moment. Cammy was caught of guard, and her attack carried her too far, making her stumble for a moment.
"Teleportation!" she cried, stunned by this turned of events. She found her feet, whipped around...
"EARTH DIRECT!"
Her ribcage seemed to be crushed for a moment as this attack connected, smashing her against the wall. She felt as if her chest was on fire, and she gagged, falling backward, finally finding herself at a kneeling position. She forced herself to breathe, no matter how hard it seemed, no matter how terrible the hurt. She couldn't allow herself to pass out, not now, not after making it this far. From her dazed eyes, she saw Juni jumping up and forward, carrying a jump attack. In despair, she reached deep within herself, bringing forward all the energy, the chi, and the adrenaline, and lunched herself upward in a last ditch attack.
"CANNON REVENGE!!"
Two attacks met and grappled for a single moment, sending back shockwaves the cracked the walls and made the windows explode outward. But it was Juni who suffered the worst of the impact, and when both combattants fell to the floor, she barely managed to get back on her feet. Cammy wasn't faring much better, however. Her feet seemed frozen, her chest still felt like a hot zone, and her fists shook. Still she wouldn't go down. Not before the damn drone did. She surged forward, and punched her in the face. Not much of a punch.
But enough. Juni fell as well. She looked at her surroundings as she panted, nearly broken, dazed. Crack and tears in the walls. Windows gone. Ceinling smashed. Furninture turned to itsy-bitsy wooden things. Yep, the living room was trashed. She nearly fell once, and finally had to lean against a cracked wall to regain the breath that seemed so long in coming.
"What the BLOODY HELL happened here?!?" came a voice that seemed both awed and horrified. She looked at a middle-aged man who had just entered. Vaguely she remembered him as a neighbour. He was gaping around as if he couldn't believe what was happening. She jerked away from the wall.
"Shadowlaw happened." she panted. He finally realised she was standing here.
"Dear God! Are you alright, lady?" he said as he started to come to her aid.
She nodded wearily, trying to banish all of her aches. "I...hff...I've seen better days but...hff...if you could just phone at the number..hff...I'll give you, I..." she stopped as she realised the man wasn't approaching her anymore, but was instead regarding her with an intense expression that held both surprise and fear.
No. That wasn't it. He wasn't looking at HER. He was looking behind her, OVER her head. She turned around, dreading what she'd found, already knowing. She stared upward.
Right into Bison's wickedly satisfied face. She took a few steps back ward in terror, before forcing herself to stop. The Lord of Shadowlaw seemed not to notice, instead passing a cursory glance at the damage that surrounded them, before staring at her again.
"Hello, Cammy. It has been a long time. I am glad to see your skills haven't diminished."
"Damn you...hff...Bison." she eyed the other man, who seemed to be stuck into the ground. "Leave, you bloody fool! NOW!!!" she shouted. The fierceness of her call seemed to penetrate, and the guy backstepped, reluctantly, but more and more quickly. Bison never even looked once at the guy. He wasn't interested one bit. Cammy knew it was because he felt the man too far beneath him and, up to a point, he was right.
Strange. After all the adrenaline, all the fear, she wasn't able to be afraid of this. Or perhaps she was so numb with it that she didn't feel it anymore. All she felt was void that was growing inside of her. Was it hopelessness? She couldn't belive it was. Absolutely refused it, and filled the void part of her spirit with rage, with determination.
"These two who...hff.. attacked me. They were...just a show for to...enjoy, h-huh?" she said, trying to regain her damnable breath."
"Of course!" he said, with a very cruel smile. "And a nice show it was! I was highly entertained by it all!"
"Glad you were. So, here to kill me? Go ahead and be done with it." she breathed.
Bison then threw back his head and laughed. A booming thing, devoid of compassion and genuine mirth, it filled the room, and made her blood turn to ice.
"Kill you! Ah, I'd forgotten how entertaining you could be my dear! Kill you! But I would never do that. See how you beat my two dolls here? Why should I kill you. No, Cammy, I am not here to kill you." he smiled, a twisted stirring of lips. "I intend to take you back where you belong. At my side."
The blond woman froze, and everything within her filled with terror. Back? Back there?!? No, nonono! Images formed in her mind, visions of pain, of captivity, of mindless obedience. No! It had been all she could do to see past it, to try to live past it! She wouldn't survive this again! Not again!
"NO!!!" she screamed, and threw a punch at the man that she feared from the very bottom of her soul. He caught her fist, easily, and put a hand on her head.
"Of course, my dear, I can't let you back without punishing for daring to defy my power. I can't have that!"
And with that, fierce, purplish energy shot from his hands, entering through her fist and head, suffusing her entire body in agaony, a thousand times worse than anything the two drones had done to her. She screamed, her despair being heard along with her pain, and she felt herself falling downward towards darkness.
"No...n-not...agai..." she managed, before she lost control of her voice.
From far away, there came a victorious laugh.
Then all was darkness, peaceful and sweet.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty minutes later...
'At least it doesn't rain.'
That was what incongruously came through Jeremy's mind as he grumpily made his way to Cammy's appartment building. He was grumpy because he had been essentially pressured into going there, but also because he DID want to make things better and, sadly, hadn't the slightest clue on how to go about doing that.
How to do it? An apology for that tap he'd given was, of course, in order. But how to apologise without she dismissing him, taking the comment as a fake, a threat or as a sick joke. After all, he'd never been very good at apologising for his actions. Had been remarquably mediocre at it, to be precise.
Sigh. Life was cruel. He'd apologise and probably botch the whole thing up, making things worse in the process. But he had to give it a try.
'Maybe I should just confess that I love her and be done with that', he griped silently, fully knowing how stupid he'd sound by saying "Cammy, I hit you but in truth I love you." No only would that fail to convince her, it might trigger another flare of temper, which was the last thing he needed. No, he'd have to bridge the throbbing gap between them before daring such a ouverture - if he ever dared it.
He saw the police cars that were stationed in front of his destination and regarded them with surprise, what could have happened. This was supposed to be a quiet neighbourhood, if a little rough. There were a few people there, and an agitated man was having what could only be a heated conversation with one of the policemen. His interest piqued, he slithered closer.
Although Julia could have come so close to them that she could have actually taken part on the situation, Jeremy only managed to get within a bare earshot. The man was speaking, and it was a strain to hear anything.
"...possible...strong...cracks...wall...couldn't believe..."
He sighed. This really wasn't telling him much. Maybe he should just ask...
"...fight...noises...man...Bison..."
He gasped at the mention of that name, especially told here, by someone who shouldn't know it, who was just a civilian. He fished inside his pocket with febrility, finding the ear transmitter he used in missions and fixing it to his ear. It worked like charm: the voices came clearly enough that he could hear everything now.
The policeman was talking. He appeared somewhat skepticle but was coldly professional. "Now, sir, are you certain that you really saw all that?"
"Look man, my story migh seem crazy, but I know that there was a bloody fight at my neighbours, that she said - quite clearly, mind you - that it was a 'shadow's law' that did it when I asked about it. And then there was this huge man that appeared out o' nowhere, and I'm sure I heard the name 'Bison."
"And that's when you fled."
"At her request...but I would have done it maself anyway. I mean, there was nothing I could do against a guy THAT size!"
Jeremy didn't need to hear anymore. He was frozen in place by fear and stupefaction. He wasn't a stupid man, and he quickly put two and two together, putting together a portrait that appalled and terrified him. Shadowlaw had taken Cammy. Bison had. He'd decided to take her back. Why?
For many reasons, all of which were terrible: anger, utility, vengeance. After all,. Cammy had broken through his control, and if anything he knew of Bison was true, he wasn't the type of guy who took to being defied in any way lightly.
'It took her months to start crawling out of the shell she was in because of what he did the first time. What is he going to do to her? How could I allow that to happen! I should have been here!'
Some small part of him still tried to be reasonable. What could he have done, had he been there? Gotten killed, most probably, and no help at all. What he would have given to help, would have been useless against someone of Bison's power. He knew that quite well. But a great part of his spirit refused to accept it.
'I should have been there. She's my partner, my friend, my...'
He closed his eyes and moaned, trying to chase down the guilt and the anger that were coming at him, overwhelming him. It was no use. His rage started to build: rage at himself, at Bison, at the whole damn fucking WORLD. He gave a cry, half-sob, half snarl, as he tried to collect his thoughts.
"Well, well. Just look who's luck's just ran out." said a seedy voice.
Still caught up in his red-hazed world, Jeremy reralised he had walked away and into an alley as he tried to control and assimilate this new situation. Three men. Twenties, low thugs, nothing to him, nothing at all.
'FuckershurtpeoplehuhwellthatsfindyoubastardsifyouwanttogetityouvecometotherightguygonnatearyouassholesapartdamnuncaringLITTLEBANDOFLOSERS!'
He smiled at them. It must not have been a pleasant smile, for they all looked worried, and one even took one step back. They didn't flee. Good. He hoped they'd stay.
"I know exactly who's luck!" he snarled "YOURS!!!"
With that he rushed forward, grabbing one by the arm, twisting it with all his chi put into the motion. The arm snapped like atwig, and he slammed the man into a brick wall, where he slumped. He dogdeg a swipe another did with a knife, taking the man down with the three brutal kicks: one to the ribs - which cracked, one to the stomach - which made the guy bend almost in two, and finally one to the face, nearly blowing the head off and assuring the man nice dreams for a long time to come.
He turned to the now-frightened boss of the little band, still seeing red, his smile still in place. Band of fuckers. In his way. Gonna hurt them, hurt them BAD!
The last goon took a swing at him, in fear and anger. Jeremy caught the fist, forced the hand open, and broke the guy's fingers backwards, all in one swift motion. The man screamed. His scream lengthened and went higher as Jeremy twisted his arm continuously, breaking the wrist, then the forearm, the elbow, the shoulder. The SCD agent let out a grunt of satisfaction when it happened.
"So, like it, fucker? Huh? How's it feel to feel the pain you inflict on others, huh?"
The thug could barely talk back, as the pain and fear made it nearly impossible. He could only keep repeating the same words.
"Pleasemandon'killmepleasedon'tjustwantedyourmoneypleasedon'tkillmedon'tkillmepleasedon't..." was the litany that was repeated, over and over, fast-paced and desperately.
It was then that Jeremy realised where he was, and what he was doing, fully, breaking throught the hase of fear and rage that had taken control of him. He looked appallingly at the cowering man who's arm had been shattered at many places, then at the two uncouncious guys that lay around. Although he felt litttle pity for these types of people, he knew that what he had done was almost just as bad. Mindless rage didn't excuse it. This was lack of emotional control. If Cammy had seen him like this...
He let go of the man, who collapsed, clutching his arm. Shaking his head at what he had done, he then turned around and walked away from the scene. He'd lost control. The only time he'd lost it so completely was when Melissa had died, three years ago. He had been too late to help at anything. She was already dead by the time Alex and he had come. And now he let Cammy down.
'And I left her thinking I hated her!'
Grief and guilt again took hold of him, but he managed to fight it down. For now. Right now the only thing he could do to help, was to give a warning, and hope SCD could pull off another miracle.
He touched his listening device/transmitter. "Activate communication interface alpha, communication frequency BF-thirty." he called out, now on the street, picking up speed toward SCD HQ.
"Acknowledged. Stand by for communication." said a neutral voice in his ear.
He picked up more speed, using years of training and chi enhancement to make him move at a speed that would have made world athletes jealous. And as he ran and waited for conection with the Communication Section, one thought came back to haunt him, again and again.
'Please don't let it be too late. I don't want to lose her. If she dies or gets brainwashed again I...I...I won't survive it. I love her, dammit, why did I never have the guts to tell her that?!?'
No reassuring answer came.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
On top of the building where a fierce but hopeless battle had just taken place, a figure stood. It was a man, that much could be acertained, but whether he was old or young, it was hard to tell. His hair was white as snow, long and flying in the wind, but his face looked no older than late twenties. His eyes were closed, for he was trying to grasp the feel of things in this area.
No one saw him, as was his way. No one ever thought of looking upward, as was his wish. He just stood there, clothed in bizzare, uindefinable grey garments, a person that had watched for far too long, and was finally nearing the end of a long journey.
Finally he opened his eyes, and if anyone had seen them, them would have taken a step back. They were bluw, but glowed eerily, as thought trying to contain some great power. In fact that was what they were trying to do, that was what his entire body did, but no one would ever know that and those that ever did...were mostly long gone.
Finally he spoke, a grating voice that seemed young but showed an ageless quality. Ws it to himself he spoke, the world, or fate? Noe one knew. Even he had forgotten.
"The winds of Fate blow." he mumurred "Changes are coming, and I see that I can interfere only once, and that time has already been chosen. I pray these times that will come will not cost humanity too much, for as rotten as it seems to so many, I know there is enough nobility left in its whole...to continue on the path it has chosen."
He closed his eyes. And as he did he started to fade, like so much smoke wafting throught the air.
"Soon. Not today, not tommorow. But soon. Dire events are coming." he whispered.
And then he was gone, as if he'd never been there at all, and the roof of the building was again alone, battered by the wind.
_____________________________________________________
Here is Chapter 15, I hope you liked it! I warn the poeple who read this story that the next chapter will have so nasty scenes, for they are needed for the storyline. See you when Chapter 16 comes out!
Any ideas and feedback are welcome! ^_^
Jeremy
By Jeremy
Chapter 15
September 21, 1997
A week. It had been a week since two young people, angry, said and did things they didn't mean. It hadn't been a comfortable week, even thought there were no assignments form them yet and that they could relax. The atmosphere was all but relaxed in London's SCD HQ, especially in the working room of their elite members. Cammy was well aware of just how much she felt about it. The last week had given her a lot to think about and time to think. And she had come to drastic conclusions.
The first was that Jeremy had been right about her being bossy, cutting him off and overriding him ceaselessly. She had never realized it. The memories that she had from before Shadowlaw - still hazy, these - and from what she read from her files showed that she had been like this before. She always spoke her mind, uncaring if others were in the middle of a sentence. Impulsive. Fiery. These words had been in my reports of the now-defunct leader of the Recon Division Five. She was starting to act out like that again.
But he was wrong, so wrong, when he said that what he had to say meant nothing to her. They meant much. Very much! He was bright and wiser than he often gave himself credit for, and he often came up with astute observations, whether they were about fights, politics, or simply about the best way to eat rice. She couldn't help but smile. Ibuki and he had gotten into a polite but intense clash about the very subject. They were so serious about it, one might not have believed that the subject was so silly. No, what he said ALWAYS meant something to her.
Which brought her to the core of the problem. What, exactly, did she feel about him? She was certain, at first, that it was a form of friendship, or at least a deep respect. That she soon found to be wrong, when she thought about it. Ever since that time in Ireland, it had seemed to her that his voice had gained something undefinable, that made it undearing. Everytime he turned his intelligent, steel-gray eyes on her, she felt the urge to smile. It made her happy. But what shocked her was something she realized only after the 'incident' with him.
Ever since Shadowlaw, and the terrifying memories she had of it, she couldn't stand men touching her, in any way. Oh, she nver let it show - her pride never would have allowed it. But everytime a man, even a trustworthy comrade like Steve or Giorgio gave her a friendly or teasing pat - on the head, the arm, the place mattered little - she felt a tremor of fear, and in the back of her head, a very small voice, an echo of the painful memories, cried 'No...please... don't hurt me again.' She was completely terrified of being touched.
But not with Jeremy.
The few times Jeremy had actually touched her - a slap on the back, a hand grasping her shoulder in a friendly fashion - she had felt no tremor, no voice. It hadn't really struck her until then, but whereas she shied away from thinking about men as a rule, she sometimes caught herself thinking strange thoughts like 'I wonder how it would feel to kiss him?' or 'He looks so cute!' These thought she attempted to squash flat, but they stubbornly refused, drifting back from time to time. And it came down to something very clear: she didn't just LIKE the young Storm.
"Could I possibly be in LOVE with him?" she thought outloud, softly. She felt dazed about it, but found the idea had appeal.
"If ol' Jer's the 'him' in that sentence, I'm gonna have to tell you its about time you figured that out." stated a light, melodious voice.
"Nemmi. Didn't realise I spoke that loud." said Cammy, a little flustered about the whole thing.
"You didn't But you've been looking intense and in the midst of a great revelation, and I eaves dropped." the woman retorted. She then snickered. "And all to learn that you've only figured out you love Jer. I'd laugh if I could."
From anyone else, the braided woman wouldn't have taken that critic. However, Nemmi Shiwasa never held her tongue about private things, and so she had to live with it. Young, only eighteen, she'd been taken into the SCD by Micheal, her unofficial mentor, only four months after Jeremy had been brought by Steve from his terrible personal ordeal. She herself hadn't been brought because of her fighting skills - even after two years, she was average at best - but because she was a magnificient marksman. As she was a woman living in a foster home she rather disliked, she had readily accepted the great gunslinger's offer to join the SCD. There she had spent the next three months mooning over Jeremy, who was only five months her senior.
Maybe that was the reason for what she spoke next, with just a little hint of jealousy. "Three months I stuck to him like glue, and he was so buried under his grief, I probably could have stripped in front of him and gotten nothing more then raised eyebrows. But you, just hint that you're in the room and he's off in Heaven!"
"I...I don't think I'm having that kind of effect on him." Cammy stuttered. Suddenly the young Chinese looked cross."
"Aww, shoot!" she growled. "Maybe you've been blind to it all, but WE haven't! We've seen his face, the way he smiled when he thought about you. We all were bright enough to tell that he had the hots for you!"
"What?!?"
"Buddah! Do I have to spell it out for you? He loves you. L-O-V-E. Four letters. Very simple word. And before you even ASK, can tell you that its been a while longer that he's realised it."
To say that Cammy was stunned, at this point, would be like calling the ocean a lake. She was beyond words. Jeremy LOVED her? That couldn't be, right? How could he love someone who ignored him the first half he's known her, and stepped over him the other half? It was impossible. A guy like that could be dating nonstop, if he only dared to show his face at a disco or the like. Love her? No. Couldn't be. And even if it REMOTELY was possible...
"I don't think he even LIKES me anymore, after what happened." she said sadly.
The young asian looked at her with a grave expression, as if she was deciding whether to continue talking or pass her way and let the conversation drop. Cammy hoped for the latter, and was somewhat disappointed when the former came about. What she said surprised her.
"Nah. He still loves you. He's just sad. And guilty. Very guilty."
Without thinking, the braided, athlectic SCD brought her hand and rubbed the place where HIS fist had connected, and had struck her to her soul. A quick gesture, but not one that could escape the quick eyes of a marswoman like Nemmi. The asian's eyes widened.
"OH, BUDDAH, GOD AND JESUS! He's the one who gave you that mark?!? But why?!?" she was fairly screeching by now. "What happened back then? Oh, when I get my hands on that man..."
"No, its not really his fault." she cut in, knowing she was again cutting off someone and this time not caring. "I...I think I'll go home and...and think this all over." she stood up from her desk, while Nemmi looked at her with blinking black eyes.
"But, can't you at least tell me..."
"No." she didn't want to talk about it. She had other things on her mind. Very confusing things. She left deskroom without a backward glance. On her way she passed two SCD grunts. Not elite these. Just soldiers attached to the organisation. They gave a salute and let her pass through. If they saw her distraught expression, they said nothing about it. After all, it wasn't their job. She wouldn't have answered anyway.
'He loved me. Not anymore. And its all my fault.'
She didn't know what to do anymore. She cared about him, she was sure of it, but now, how to tell him.
'I had the chance to find someone who understood. And I blew it. Completely blew it. Now he hates me, thinks I consider him worthless. He'd prefer if Bison had me still, I'm sure.'
She felt the tears a while after she left Headquarters. How long they were there, she didn't know. Didn't care. For she had found out about something else.
She found that, ever since he hit her, she had always been crying...in her heart.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
"Do you still like blueberry pancakes?"
"What does that have to do with what we are discussing?"
"Nothing at all. But just answer, for now."
"Well...yes."
"Good! Then blueberry pancakes it will be today, Marcel. With the usual standard."
This conversation was held at the private dining room where many coferences had been held by Irish politicians and the powerful people of Limerick. At the dining room table - a rectanglar, rich oak thing - seven men sat. All were high members of the Circle in Limerick, directly below Everick and, of course, Kale, who had just transgressed the reunion to have the little talk about pancakes. No one would have faulted their young leader, of course. Those who did often got a very unpleasant, very lethal dispositions afterwards.
The chef bowed and left, and Kale's smiling face - he always seemed to be smiling about something - once again fixed the assembled men. "Well, now, where were we?"
A Circle member, a hard-faced man of late thirties, coughed slightly. "Err...I was saying, milord, that attacking SCD may have severe repercussions on our status. The Elders may disapprove, and if they do..."
"They will not if we are successful." Everick interjected. The five other men squirmed in their seats when he passed his stony gaze upon them. For a while no one dared speak.
"Yes, but, milord, the SCD are rumored to have within their personel, an Elite sub-division that could hinder our raid greatly." That from another member, a small, slim woman with hawkish features.
Kale lay back, his smile not faltering a second, his demeanor as calm and amused as it ever was. He seemed not to make anything of his subordinate's comment, and that did not displease those assembled. He scratched his chin in seeming thought, then faced the woman squarely, with an ever-widening smile.
"Tell me, fair Querra, " he asked pleasantly "Are you of the opinion that I'm being...reckless?"
Everyone around the table - even Everick - held their breath at that, while the young woman became pale. Although he presented a pleasant exterior, they all knew Kale possessed great ruthlessness, and had a very marked taste for slaughter. He kept these pulsions in check, but the few examples of them gave those at this table more than enough reasons to fear an outburst. Querra, although cold and ruthless herself, seemed to shrink back under the close watch of the merry eyes that hid all of their true feelings.
"I...milord...I w-would never..." she stammered.
"Of course not!" was the joyous reply "I know no one here would dare think that." He stopped then, pausing to make his point. "Now, Astheril, are the forces ready?"
"Just about, milord." the smaller lord seemed to hesitate. "However, I must say that a the present time, the SCD that are present in London are far too strong to."
"Ah, my friends, such gloom! Worry not! Even now, one works to weaken these very SCD you all fear so much. When the time is right will we attack, not before then."
"And how will that be?" asked Everick, the only one who seemed utterly calm in the group. Not surprising, as the two leaders were friends.
"You will know. The person I talk about will tell us."
He looked at the assembled high-ups that ran the workings of Limerick and other holdings, encompassing the whole room with a gaze that was more spellbinding that amused. A glint of purple shimmered in his eyes.
"Do trust me on this," he stated softly, his smile gone for a single moment. "As you always should."
* * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later...
There were situations that Jeremy Storm didn't like. There were others he actually abhorred. Unfortunately, he reflected as he looked at the faces of Nemmi, Giogio and Joan, he seemed to be squarely into the latter category. What was worse, he knew why they looked at him in such displeased way, and the honest part of his self couldn't find fault with them, annoying as they seemed to be. So he sat at his desk and waited for the firing squad to open fire.
Nemmi, who had an attitude even more abrasive than the defunct Cindy, thrust forward first. "I think its about time we had a talk about this, Jer."
"About what?" he asked, even though he knew quite well. Not the thing to say, he realised, as the three persons in front and around him seemed to grow more tense, and colder as well. This wasn't about to be fun.
"You KNOW what!" the asian fairly screeched "We have to make you se that its about time that you guys buried the hatchet on whatever happened a week ago!" The older agents nodded at that.
Jeremy nodded himself. "I'll be willing to bury it if she comes and apologises. Not before."
Joan, in her all-wise way, shook her fair head. "That won't happen. It would be better if you opened up first and started the healing by apologising for whatever happened."
Jeremy gritted his teeth, his fists balls of tensions that were demanding release. He had to talk. Of course. Whenever something when even the slightest bit wrong between the two of them, it had to be him who had to apologise. He supposed it was fair, up to a point. Or at least it was when she had no hands on her emotions. However, she had emotions now. He was starting to be fed up being a second rate nanny to someone who had spent two months looking for something that made him look like a man feared and hated.
"No." he stated "She started this whole mess, let her make the first step. That is the order of things."
Giorgio huffed at this, spreading his athletic arms. "Oh, madre de dio! Desperto, nino!" he growled, switching to his native spanish in his irritation. "That girl won't even try to talk to you. She doesn't know how!"
"She's no child! She can certainly trudge her ass her and say 'I'm sorry'!" he retorted hotly.
Joan brought her hands down on the desk in impatience, making the others start. She had a dark look on that face of hers, which did not bode well. "Jer, you know she's not used enough with those emotions to know the right way to say something like this. Right now she feels lost, alone. Its understandable when someone like her feels betrayed." The last touch was said with an hint of accusation.
Jeremy's grey eyes flashed in anger. "Betrayed? I'M not the one who compared her to Bison!" he growled fiercely. "You guys just don't know what your talking about!"
"Then tell us! Tell us what happened back there, in Buddah's name!" cried a frustrated Nemmi.
"FINE! I'll tell you! Then I do hope you'll have the decency to leave me to what's my own damn business!" And he told them.
It was harder than he thought, as he knew he had acted badly in his own way. He told about the fight with the punk, the unwitting intervention on Cammy's part, his attempts to explain, and her terrible, heart-shattering accusation. Then the social worker's arrival, departure, the coldness that was installed afterwards and finally - and hardest of all - the punch that he had used to push her away. God, how it hurt! He never meant to hit her, but her words, her words, had been like acid, destroying his reason for a while.
He looked away as he finished. "So, there. Now you know. What's the use, guys? Why should I go apologise to someone who never thought me anything more than a dumb thug, someone who compared me to Bison!"
All he received in answer was a sound, if not harmful, whack on the head. He looked up in surprise and indignation at a Giorgio that seemed caught between anger, amusement and exasperation.
"Amigo, I thought a lot of things of you when you came here, and some wound up to be true. But I've never thought you an idioto and at that I was right. Don't start proving me wrong."
"Oh, get outta town, Giorgio! You weren't there! You didn't hear her spout that nonsense. She had no reason to say that!!!"
"Agreed. And were you any different with what you did?" interjected Joan coldly.
That made him pause for a moment. Fact was, he DID think his last act went a little overboard, and did not belong to his set of morals. Strange, when you thought about it. Giorgio had killed many times for the organizations he worked for, as had Nemmi here, and Michael had done many assassinations for the English governments. That didn't mean these people, and the other soldiers who worked her, were bad, but they weren't angels, either, when the situation called. Why were they so concerned about a little tap. The thought made Jeremy angry.
"Oh, don't start with that. Its not like I killed her. I only gave her something back for months of verbal abuse!" he was starting to spout nonsense, he knew. Verbal abuse? Where did THAT tidbit come from? The others didn't seem to be convinced by his latest argument. He couldn't entirely blame them.
It was Nemmi who pounced next. "You are the truest version of a baka I've ever seen. Don't you see that she loves you?!?" she cried in frustration.
That was when he laughed.
It wasn't an happy laugh, for the laughter didn't reach the eyes, which were still locked in their angry mien. It was fierce an outburst, filled with anger and bitterness, and a deep sadness that only a fool wouldn't feel. He stood up while he laughed, giving them all a glare, and managed to get it under control, minimizing it to a few chuckles. While he did this, he grabbed the dictionary that he used to write complicated reports, opened it, and flipped the sheets almost savagely until he came to a certain place. Getting his throat and voice under control, he spoke softly, filled with tension.
"Love, " he read. "n.v. loved, loving. One: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person, especially when based on sexual attraction. Two: a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection. Three: a person towards whom love is felt. Four...oh the hell with that." he gave a sickly, victorious smile to the other three agents. "I'm sorry but I've never seen anything from her, ANYTHING, that ressembles that description!" he slammed the dictionary shut.
Joan shook her head. "Jer..."
"Was nice talking to you guys. No I've got some things to discuss with Mark." he turned to go, but was stopped by Giorgio's strong hand on his shoulder. He turned back to stare coldly. "Don't Giorgio. Don't pick a fight. You'll lose."
"Even so, I can't let you walk away from this." was the even reply.
Both men were tense, ready to snap, and a fight migh have ensued, if Joan hadn't come between them.
"That's enough of that male toughness! Jer, you're right: she doesn't show you any of that. But I'll tell you what she DOES. She lets you near her, something she almost never lets us do. She's never asked for another partner, never complained. And I've seen her SMILE at you. She's never done THAT to anyone else but you. Surely you must realise that!"
Silence. He was finding himself without words again. And she wasn't done with him yet, but continued in an earnest voice.
"I'm not asking you to forgive what she said, Jer. I'm just asking you to go talk to her. Please. I know you care for her. You don't hate her, you're just hurt. Please. She needs you."
Still the same silence. With a jerk, he disengaged his shoulder from Giorgio's now relaxed arm. He was angry still, but also amused somewhat. Trust Joan to find the right words, the right reasons. Damn her for seeing throught to him. Damn her for forcing him into something he didn't feel ready for yet.
Damn her for being right.
He gave weak smile. "Fine, fine, doctor. I can see why you're the psychologist here. I'll go talk to her, but I promise nothing. Now, I've got things to do." with that, he left, without looking back. He wasn't stopped. He knew that the decision was the right one. This couldn't go on. It simply couldn't.
But he'd be damned if he knew what he could say to change the situation.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ten minutes later...
The walk to her appartment was a lonely one. Strange, but she never realised that before. What reason could she have? It was the same road she had always taken, almost always alone at that. A few times, yes, Jeremy had tagged along when they had to go somewhere right after that, or when he had to tell her something he had forgotten about. A very few times Joan had been with her, and Giorgio had walked her once after an especially tiring mission. She had never figured the trip as a lonely one. Now she did. What was up with that?
Was she so addled, her wits so mazed, that she was tinging everything with fatalism now?
She couldn't say, except that she had a lot tothink about, and that she would be better doing it at her appartment. That particular building, a four-storied, grey-bricked thing, was looming a few hundred feet away, surrounded by other places of the same type. Jeremy had called places like these 'mass-living areas' and it didn't look as thought he was joking when he said it, even though his tone was light. He lived in another appartment, a bigger one. That was because, if memory served, that he had received the money his parents had left as an inheritance when he turned eighteen. It was 'a tidy sum' as he said, but never elaborated further. He seemed to receive the money with mixed feelings.
"I'm glad that my folks left me something to remember them by." she'd heard him explain to Mark once. "But I would have much prefered not to get the money, and have real parents, no pictures and other people's memories of them" Mark had told him he was quite right, and she had wanted to say the same, but didn't.
She sighed as she entered the building, trudging to the elevator that would take her to the fourth story, where she lived. It always somehow came to something she didn't say to the guy, and the feeling of guilt that became stronger and stronger each time. She still wasn't sure she loved him - heck, she wasn't yet sure of what she felt at all. She just knew that he meant something, something important, and that she had unwittingly removed that from her own existence.
'If you'd just waited for a damn explanation, none of this would have happened!' a voice said in her mind, and she couldn't deny the truth in that.
The elevator reached her level, and she walked over to her door, intent now on taking a shower, and then calling her partner to sort this out. She didn't know what she felt, that was true, but she couldn't deny the fact that they made a terrific team. He with the street knowledge, she with the military knowledge, they could take on just about anything. Yes, it would be foolish to dissolve their partnership, when it worked out so well.
She put her key into the lock and entered, intent on her trail of thinking. That was probably why, when faint alarm bells started to go off instinctively in her head, she was slow to understand and react. Something was wrong with the feel of the place. Something dangerous was in the air, but her instaincts were slightly dulled. That was why, when she was trust firmly forward by someone, she stumbled before regaining control. As the door slammed behind her, she whirled angrily and took a fierce fighting stance.
In front of her stood a rather beautiful woamn with short brown hair and eyes, dressed in a strange, black, woolen bodysuit that left her legs - well-muscled, athletic - bare. The woman made no sign that she was about to attack. In fact, she showed no sign of being about to do ANYTHING! She just stood there, like a...
...like a DOLL.
That's when she noticed the complete, utter blankness in the stranger's eyes. A blankness she knew well. After all, she seen enough tapes of the days following her caputure, had enough hazy memories, to remember that she had once had the very same robot-like expression. She then knew who that girl was, and what she was here for. And she felt terribly scared.
"You're one of Bison's zombie pawns, just like I was." she stated to the Shadowlaw agent.
The zombie then spoke. "Surrender, Cammy White. Failure to do so immediately would entail a capture by force that would cause significant physical damage."
"Advise quickly and answer, said another woman's voice, Lighter, different a voice. But just as unemotional as the first. Cammy wasn't surprised by the newest arrival. She'd been assuming someone else would be there, that Bison wouldn't pit just one fighter against her. After all, one alone could fail; two had less chances of coming up short. All logical, as devoid of hope as it seemed. She shot a look at the other drone: much the same, except she had short blond hair instead of brown.
She forced a grim smile to appear on her face. No way was she going out quaking and afraid. "And what happens if I surrender?" she spat the last word.
"Then there will be no physical damage done to yourself." was the statement, as if they were talking about the best way to cook potatoes. She almost laughed at how simple she made it sound. And how totally untrue it was. No physical damage if she surrendered?
"You must truly be zombies..." she started, then pivoted her legs, jerked upward, over the blonde snapped her foot in midair, hitting the wall and altering her trajectory, so that in barely two or three seconds she was out of the entry way and into the living room. "...if you can believe that SHIT!" she finished with growl, taking her fighting stance. The unemotional near-twins looked at each other for a moment, then stepped into the living room.
"Target has decided to resist. Agent Juli assuming offensive posture." said the brown-haired one.
"Acknowledged. Agent Juni assuming offensive posture." stated the blond drone a second later. Both then assumed a position that seemed deadly, all business, and decidedly familiar to Cammy. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the fast-paced events and give her the info.
'It should seem familiar. It closely follows my personal style.' She reflected. What had Bison done with these girls? And then she had no more time to think much, as the two attacked, silmultaneously, from different angles.
She met the first attack head-on, blocking a quick series of punches and kicks, beating off the attack only to have to fight off another. Juli came at her with a dropkick, which she dodged, giving an elbow shot to the drone's face before she recovered. As her first adversary went roling away, Juni came with a quick kick directed at her abdomen. Instinct took over at that moment, forcing her legs to make a short jump the made her enemy's foot miss by mer inches. Then she swung her leg around, catching the blond zombie in the ribs. Juni stepped back with a slight wheeze, Cammy landed on her feet again. She turned away from her momentarily difused second opponent, turning back to the first.
She had barely the time to duck the punch, and could do nothing but gasp in pain as the second connected squarely. She gave an uppercut to disengage herself, fliped back ward, near the livingroom couch. Around her, she saw that they'd already broken the television and the two vases she had in their first spat of fighting. She had never noticed.
What she had noticed, she realised more fully as her two adversaries regarded her in silence. No emotions at all. There didn't seem to be a Presence inside of them, or if there was, it in no way allowed them to expresss emotions or pain, unlike how it had been with her. Perhaps Bison had fine-tuned the 'programming'. One more reason to fight with all she had. As for she, she felt like she was fighting training dummies, for all the response she received. Yes, very quick, very dangerous dummies. That's what they were..
They attacked again, just as flawlessly and just as quickly as before. She exchanged blows with Juli and Juni consecutively, then ducked as the brown-haired drone slashed at her neck. She gathered her chi quickly, flipping and thrusting upward in one powerful move.
"CANNON SPIKE!"
The force of the chi-driven attack caught the woman squarely, and nearly ramed her throught the ceiling. She fell like a stone, hitting the floor with a thudding sound. The SCD agent came back on her feet within a moment, and received an attack by Juni. Barely, she managed to fight it off. The myriad of blows she had received thus far were taking their toll, even with all her adrenaline pumping like crazy. The attack she had just summoned had just added to the strain. But she wouldn't give up, not now. She could manage this battle yet, with one opponent down, hope for victory remained. Sh gathered her strength, tensed her legs, and sprang forward, one arm prtoecting the front, the other ready to strike from below.
As she did so, Juni crossed her arms and closed her eyes, as if she was concentrating. As the braided agent neared, she opened them again.
"Mach Slide." she whispered, and disappeared disappeared right at that moment. Cammy was caught of guard, and her attack carried her too far, making her stumble for a moment.
"Teleportation!" she cried, stunned by this turned of events. She found her feet, whipped around...
"EARTH DIRECT!"
Her ribcage seemed to be crushed for a moment as this attack connected, smashing her against the wall. She felt as if her chest was on fire, and she gagged, falling backward, finally finding herself at a kneeling position. She forced herself to breathe, no matter how hard it seemed, no matter how terrible the hurt. She couldn't allow herself to pass out, not now, not after making it this far. From her dazed eyes, she saw Juni jumping up and forward, carrying a jump attack. In despair, she reached deep within herself, bringing forward all the energy, the chi, and the adrenaline, and lunched herself upward in a last ditch attack.
"CANNON REVENGE!!"
Two attacks met and grappled for a single moment, sending back shockwaves the cracked the walls and made the windows explode outward. But it was Juni who suffered the worst of the impact, and when both combattants fell to the floor, she barely managed to get back on her feet. Cammy wasn't faring much better, however. Her feet seemed frozen, her chest still felt like a hot zone, and her fists shook. Still she wouldn't go down. Not before the damn drone did. She surged forward, and punched her in the face. Not much of a punch.
But enough. Juni fell as well. She looked at her surroundings as she panted, nearly broken, dazed. Crack and tears in the walls. Windows gone. Ceinling smashed. Furninture turned to itsy-bitsy wooden things. Yep, the living room was trashed. She nearly fell once, and finally had to lean against a cracked wall to regain the breath that seemed so long in coming.
"What the BLOODY HELL happened here?!?" came a voice that seemed both awed and horrified. She looked at a middle-aged man who had just entered. Vaguely she remembered him as a neighbour. He was gaping around as if he couldn't believe what was happening. She jerked away from the wall.
"Shadowlaw happened." she panted. He finally realised she was standing here.
"Dear God! Are you alright, lady?" he said as he started to come to her aid.
She nodded wearily, trying to banish all of her aches. "I...hff...I've seen better days but...hff...if you could just phone at the number..hff...I'll give you, I..." she stopped as she realised the man wasn't approaching her anymore, but was instead regarding her with an intense expression that held both surprise and fear.
No. That wasn't it. He wasn't looking at HER. He was looking behind her, OVER her head. She turned around, dreading what she'd found, already knowing. She stared upward.
Right into Bison's wickedly satisfied face. She took a few steps back ward in terror, before forcing herself to stop. The Lord of Shadowlaw seemed not to notice, instead passing a cursory glance at the damage that surrounded them, before staring at her again.
"Hello, Cammy. It has been a long time. I am glad to see your skills haven't diminished."
"Damn you...hff...Bison." she eyed the other man, who seemed to be stuck into the ground. "Leave, you bloody fool! NOW!!!" she shouted. The fierceness of her call seemed to penetrate, and the guy backstepped, reluctantly, but more and more quickly. Bison never even looked once at the guy. He wasn't interested one bit. Cammy knew it was because he felt the man too far beneath him and, up to a point, he was right.
Strange. After all the adrenaline, all the fear, she wasn't able to be afraid of this. Or perhaps she was so numb with it that she didn't feel it anymore. All she felt was void that was growing inside of her. Was it hopelessness? She couldn't belive it was. Absolutely refused it, and filled the void part of her spirit with rage, with determination.
"These two who...hff.. attacked me. They were...just a show for to...enjoy, h-huh?" she said, trying to regain her damnable breath."
"Of course!" he said, with a very cruel smile. "And a nice show it was! I was highly entertained by it all!"
"Glad you were. So, here to kill me? Go ahead and be done with it." she breathed.
Bison then threw back his head and laughed. A booming thing, devoid of compassion and genuine mirth, it filled the room, and made her blood turn to ice.
"Kill you! Ah, I'd forgotten how entertaining you could be my dear! Kill you! But I would never do that. See how you beat my two dolls here? Why should I kill you. No, Cammy, I am not here to kill you." he smiled, a twisted stirring of lips. "I intend to take you back where you belong. At my side."
The blond woman froze, and everything within her filled with terror. Back? Back there?!? No, nonono! Images formed in her mind, visions of pain, of captivity, of mindless obedience. No! It had been all she could do to see past it, to try to live past it! She wouldn't survive this again! Not again!
"NO!!!" she screamed, and threw a punch at the man that she feared from the very bottom of her soul. He caught her fist, easily, and put a hand on her head.
"Of course, my dear, I can't let you back without punishing for daring to defy my power. I can't have that!"
And with that, fierce, purplish energy shot from his hands, entering through her fist and head, suffusing her entire body in agaony, a thousand times worse than anything the two drones had done to her. She screamed, her despair being heard along with her pain, and she felt herself falling downward towards darkness.
"No...n-not...agai..." she managed, before she lost control of her voice.
From far away, there came a victorious laugh.
Then all was darkness, peaceful and sweet.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty minutes later...
'At least it doesn't rain.'
That was what incongruously came through Jeremy's mind as he grumpily made his way to Cammy's appartment building. He was grumpy because he had been essentially pressured into going there, but also because he DID want to make things better and, sadly, hadn't the slightest clue on how to go about doing that.
How to do it? An apology for that tap he'd given was, of course, in order. But how to apologise without she dismissing him, taking the comment as a fake, a threat or as a sick joke. After all, he'd never been very good at apologising for his actions. Had been remarquably mediocre at it, to be precise.
Sigh. Life was cruel. He'd apologise and probably botch the whole thing up, making things worse in the process. But he had to give it a try.
'Maybe I should just confess that I love her and be done with that', he griped silently, fully knowing how stupid he'd sound by saying "Cammy, I hit you but in truth I love you." No only would that fail to convince her, it might trigger another flare of temper, which was the last thing he needed. No, he'd have to bridge the throbbing gap between them before daring such a ouverture - if he ever dared it.
He saw the police cars that were stationed in front of his destination and regarded them with surprise, what could have happened. This was supposed to be a quiet neighbourhood, if a little rough. There were a few people there, and an agitated man was having what could only be a heated conversation with one of the policemen. His interest piqued, he slithered closer.
Although Julia could have come so close to them that she could have actually taken part on the situation, Jeremy only managed to get within a bare earshot. The man was speaking, and it was a strain to hear anything.
"...possible...strong...cracks...wall...couldn't believe..."
He sighed. This really wasn't telling him much. Maybe he should just ask...
"...fight...noises...man...Bison..."
He gasped at the mention of that name, especially told here, by someone who shouldn't know it, who was just a civilian. He fished inside his pocket with febrility, finding the ear transmitter he used in missions and fixing it to his ear. It worked like charm: the voices came clearly enough that he could hear everything now.
The policeman was talking. He appeared somewhat skepticle but was coldly professional. "Now, sir, are you certain that you really saw all that?"
"Look man, my story migh seem crazy, but I know that there was a bloody fight at my neighbours, that she said - quite clearly, mind you - that it was a 'shadow's law' that did it when I asked about it. And then there was this huge man that appeared out o' nowhere, and I'm sure I heard the name 'Bison."
"And that's when you fled."
"At her request...but I would have done it maself anyway. I mean, there was nothing I could do against a guy THAT size!"
Jeremy didn't need to hear anymore. He was frozen in place by fear and stupefaction. He wasn't a stupid man, and he quickly put two and two together, putting together a portrait that appalled and terrified him. Shadowlaw had taken Cammy. Bison had. He'd decided to take her back. Why?
For many reasons, all of which were terrible: anger, utility, vengeance. After all,. Cammy had broken through his control, and if anything he knew of Bison was true, he wasn't the type of guy who took to being defied in any way lightly.
'It took her months to start crawling out of the shell she was in because of what he did the first time. What is he going to do to her? How could I allow that to happen! I should have been here!'
Some small part of him still tried to be reasonable. What could he have done, had he been there? Gotten killed, most probably, and no help at all. What he would have given to help, would have been useless against someone of Bison's power. He knew that quite well. But a great part of his spirit refused to accept it.
'I should have been there. She's my partner, my friend, my...'
He closed his eyes and moaned, trying to chase down the guilt and the anger that were coming at him, overwhelming him. It was no use. His rage started to build: rage at himself, at Bison, at the whole damn fucking WORLD. He gave a cry, half-sob, half snarl, as he tried to collect his thoughts.
"Well, well. Just look who's luck's just ran out." said a seedy voice.
Still caught up in his red-hazed world, Jeremy reralised he had walked away and into an alley as he tried to control and assimilate this new situation. Three men. Twenties, low thugs, nothing to him, nothing at all.
'FuckershurtpeoplehuhwellthatsfindyoubastardsifyouwanttogetityouvecometotherightguygonnatearyouassholesapartdamnuncaringLITTLEBANDOFLOSERS!'
He smiled at them. It must not have been a pleasant smile, for they all looked worried, and one even took one step back. They didn't flee. Good. He hoped they'd stay.
"I know exactly who's luck!" he snarled "YOURS!!!"
With that he rushed forward, grabbing one by the arm, twisting it with all his chi put into the motion. The arm snapped like atwig, and he slammed the man into a brick wall, where he slumped. He dogdeg a swipe another did with a knife, taking the man down with the three brutal kicks: one to the ribs - which cracked, one to the stomach - which made the guy bend almost in two, and finally one to the face, nearly blowing the head off and assuring the man nice dreams for a long time to come.
He turned to the now-frightened boss of the little band, still seeing red, his smile still in place. Band of fuckers. In his way. Gonna hurt them, hurt them BAD!
The last goon took a swing at him, in fear and anger. Jeremy caught the fist, forced the hand open, and broke the guy's fingers backwards, all in one swift motion. The man screamed. His scream lengthened and went higher as Jeremy twisted his arm continuously, breaking the wrist, then the forearm, the elbow, the shoulder. The SCD agent let out a grunt of satisfaction when it happened.
"So, like it, fucker? Huh? How's it feel to feel the pain you inflict on others, huh?"
The thug could barely talk back, as the pain and fear made it nearly impossible. He could only keep repeating the same words.
"Pleasemandon'killmepleasedon'tjustwantedyourmoneypleasedon'tkillmedon'tkillmepleasedon't..." was the litany that was repeated, over and over, fast-paced and desperately.
It was then that Jeremy realised where he was, and what he was doing, fully, breaking throught the hase of fear and rage that had taken control of him. He looked appallingly at the cowering man who's arm had been shattered at many places, then at the two uncouncious guys that lay around. Although he felt litttle pity for these types of people, he knew that what he had done was almost just as bad. Mindless rage didn't excuse it. This was lack of emotional control. If Cammy had seen him like this...
He let go of the man, who collapsed, clutching his arm. Shaking his head at what he had done, he then turned around and walked away from the scene. He'd lost control. The only time he'd lost it so completely was when Melissa had died, three years ago. He had been too late to help at anything. She was already dead by the time Alex and he had come. And now he let Cammy down.
'And I left her thinking I hated her!'
Grief and guilt again took hold of him, but he managed to fight it down. For now. Right now the only thing he could do to help, was to give a warning, and hope SCD could pull off another miracle.
He touched his listening device/transmitter. "Activate communication interface alpha, communication frequency BF-thirty." he called out, now on the street, picking up speed toward SCD HQ.
"Acknowledged. Stand by for communication." said a neutral voice in his ear.
He picked up more speed, using years of training and chi enhancement to make him move at a speed that would have made world athletes jealous. And as he ran and waited for conection with the Communication Section, one thought came back to haunt him, again and again.
'Please don't let it be too late. I don't want to lose her. If she dies or gets brainwashed again I...I...I won't survive it. I love her, dammit, why did I never have the guts to tell her that?!?'
No reassuring answer came.
* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...
On top of the building where a fierce but hopeless battle had just taken place, a figure stood. It was a man, that much could be acertained, but whether he was old or young, it was hard to tell. His hair was white as snow, long and flying in the wind, but his face looked no older than late twenties. His eyes were closed, for he was trying to grasp the feel of things in this area.
No one saw him, as was his way. No one ever thought of looking upward, as was his wish. He just stood there, clothed in bizzare, uindefinable grey garments, a person that had watched for far too long, and was finally nearing the end of a long journey.
Finally he opened his eyes, and if anyone had seen them, them would have taken a step back. They were bluw, but glowed eerily, as thought trying to contain some great power. In fact that was what they were trying to do, that was what his entire body did, but no one would ever know that and those that ever did...were mostly long gone.
Finally he spoke, a grating voice that seemed young but showed an ageless quality. Ws it to himself he spoke, the world, or fate? Noe one knew. Even he had forgotten.
"The winds of Fate blow." he mumurred "Changes are coming, and I see that I can interfere only once, and that time has already been chosen. I pray these times that will come will not cost humanity too much, for as rotten as it seems to so many, I know there is enough nobility left in its whole...to continue on the path it has chosen."
He closed his eyes. And as he did he started to fade, like so much smoke wafting throught the air.
"Soon. Not today, not tommorow. But soon. Dire events are coming." he whispered.
And then he was gone, as if he'd never been there at all, and the roof of the building was again alone, battered by the wind.
_____________________________________________________
Here is Chapter 15, I hope you liked it! I warn the poeple who read this story that the next chapter will have so nasty scenes, for they are needed for the storyline. See you when Chapter 16 comes out!
Any ideas and feedback are welcome! ^_^
Jeremy
