Will and Fate
By Jeremy

Chapter 20

January 20, 1998

No matter what the reason, the stratagem they were using made Jeremy walk on air. After all, he was having a most romantic stroll with the woman he loved. Of course, it was all for the mission, but the details didn't really matter to him.

For the last four days they'd watched that house just outside Sydney, gathering information and making plans. It wasn't that well-defended - six men during the day, ten during the night. In fact, it would've gone as an overlooked little thing, if their informants in Sydney hadn't told that many communications came and went from that very house. They'd double-checked subtly, talked with Mark on secure lines, and agreed that this insignificant two-storied house must have a computer linking the different parts of Shadowlaw's underground communications in Sydney. Taking this place out would confuse and stall the whole thing in town for at least two weeks - the perfect message to send that Shadowlaw was still being watched.

The idea had come almost naturally. They both were young people, so projecting the image of teen-like innocence might enable them to keep the two people who always seemed to not-too subtly guard the door - except when a police car passed, of course - from getting suspicious long enough to get close and take them out, thus enabling their little raid without advance warning. Taking out people wasn't his forte or his liking, but if he had to choose between less drugs on the streets or his conscience, then it was the drugs he chose.

They'd dressed for the occasion. Jeremy wore black jeans, a light white shirt - January was actually a rather HOT month in Australia and a battered leather coat. Cammy herself had put on a blue tight suit that stopped at the ribs, showing a few dozen centimeters of rosy, athletic flesh, dark green pants that seemed to accentuate her form even though it wasn't tight and make-up - which she usually never wore - that gave her an even more youthful look than usual. He knew his blood pressure had gone higher by ten points when he'd first seen her so attired, and the guards would probably do the same.

But the best part was that they were strolling like young lovers, his arm around her shoulders and her head on his. And the best was, they didn't feel like they were faking, after all!

"Cammy, love," he said softly, taking in the the darkening skies and the almost-deserted street. "You really know how to turn a guy on, huh?"

She grinned up at him. "So I take it you approve?"

"Well, I don't know. If you did that every day, I'd be less charmed. But right now..." he didn't finish his sentence. "Okay, coming up on them." he said swiftly. He felt her nod. "Lets give'em hell."

They walked up to the guards, giggling, making affectionate noises. The guards looked wary at first but, as surmised, they seemed so genuine in it - well, in fact they were - that they started to look at Cammy with eyes that held no a little bit of admiration and lust. For a few moments, Jeremy didn't exist for them.

He took advantage of that, disengaging himself and closing in the bare meter that separated them in a fraction of second. He summoned his chi, thrusting forward with a precise punch. The man tried to recover, but too late. The fist impacted on his throat, crushing the trachea and bursting more than a few of the important blood vessels there. The man gave a squeak, his eyes rolled back, and he toppled backward in a heap. The other guard had recovered by then, and turned towards him, gun in hand. There was no way he could dodge from this distance.

However, the moment the guard turned away, two feminine, deadly hands took hold of his head and twisted. Bone snapped, and the other guard joined his partner in eternal sleep.

They looked at each other and gave a grim smile. Round one done, in their favor. Now time for the second round. They entered the house, and immediately heard voices. Rather bored voices, not expecting trouble. They probably were thinking that it was their men coming into the house again. A man appeared, a bored, irritated expression on his face.

"What are ya doing here, mates? Your shift doesn't end before..." he trailed off when he saw who it was, his eyes widened and he gaped.

"Hiya." said Cammy, a second before she sent a kick that hit the guy hard, nearly splitting his head open. The man went down, but not before letting out a surprised and fearful shout. Immediately there was a great commotion in what seemed to be the living room.

"You go!" Jeremy shouted to Cammy. "I'll handle those here!"

There was no hesitation from her, no gesture of argument or anything. She sped up the stairs, stealth forgotten by the needs of speed. As she did, Jeremy seized a round metallic ball with a small button in one hand, fishing sunglasses and putting them on with the other. He clicked on the button, passing quickly in front of the opening within the living room and launching the ball.

The chemicals released from the tiny holes caused the room to be flooded with the light of one thousand light bulbs at once. Cried of agony went up as them men were blinded by it. He moved, entering the room, his eyes protected by the thick, specially treated sunglasses. He counted the men - four of them, with their weapons either lying about or clutched in hand. With the three guys already taken out, that meant three were upstairs. No problem at all for Cammy.

He knew the effects wouldn't last long - a few seconds at most. He could have killed them or incapacitated them right then and there, but that wasn't his style. He carried a pistol, but had rarely used it, had no wish to. Not yet. Thus, he used the seconds to get and throw all the guns out of the room, forcefully wrenching them sometimes. The light faded as he threw the last one, and he took out the glasses, trusting off his coat and taking a fighting stance. The men blinked, dazed. Knowing this was as far as luck and common sense should take the situation, he rushed them before they fully recovered.

He attacked the nearest grunt with a swing to the head, which the man was too dazed to dodged. He he was turned halfway around by it, and went definitively down when Jeremy added a strong chop on the back of the neck. The young fighter felt his blood boil a little from the exultation of beating up an opponent - he had long ago discovered the best fighters were those who, no matter what their personalities were, actually reveled in the fighting. That was their edge in life. And, he guessed, his too.

Another grunt swung at him. He ducked it, brought his fist hard upon the solar plexus, cracking the rib cage. The man stepped back, coughing and gasping, and was brought down by a fierce back-kick.

The other two men were recovered by then. But then, he was up to taking two men at once. He took his stance and waited for their attacks. It wasn't long before they launched their onslaught. He quickly gauged one as a man with nothing but slight basic, while the other had had some training in the field of boxing, he could feel the strength of the blows when they impacted on his forearms. However, even that man didn't have much skill, and to someone like Jeremy, it was child's play to dodge and prance about, returning with quick, powerful shots.

Finally he fell the boxer with a powerful three consecutive jabs to the face, taking in a shot from the other man to the ribs. It hurt, but not much - he'd been hit far worse in his life. Soon the last man followed.

"Had fun?"

He turned swiftly to see Cammy, looking quite hale, at the entrance to the now-askew living room. She regarded the four men scattered on the floor, then look back at him, her eyes dancing with an almost giddy sense of satisfaction. He smiled at her.

"Sure I did. Did you put the virus up."

"You bet. Its putting down the underground lines at a fast-paced run. Mark's gonna love to know his latest project worked." she gestured toward the front door. "Come on! Fireworks in ten seconds!"

He didn't fully get that last, but hurried after her out of the house. He opened his mouth to ask about the 'fireworks' when he heard a loud boom behind him. He turned in time to see flames and smoke come out of one of the upper-level windows. He stared at the hungry blaze for a moment, then wordlessly turned back to a triumphant Cammy.

"An easy mission." she stated. He only nodded, looking back and forth between she and the blaze. "I think we should go and celebrate that a bit, huh?"

"Yeah, right, cheers." he said mindlessly. "T-that was C-Four!"

"Yes, of course it was."

"But where did you...nevermind, I don't want to know. Lets go before the whole neighbourhood comes calling."

They made off quickly, as the houses around blazed with light and people started to come outdoors, looking aghast or frightened. And all the while Cammy seemed satisfied with herself and with him. He still thought that last explosion was overkill - where did she HIDE THE C-FOUR ANYWAY - but he wasn't going to say it. No way was he darkening the mood. It had been a VERY easy little thing for them and also their first real mission in a while - ever since the HQ Battle. So yeah, why not celebrate?

After all, nothing bad can come out of celebrating a little, right?

Right?

* * * * * * * * * *
A few hours later...

People thought shadows were what they were, the absence of light, the places that the sun was never supposed or never could fill. Some people were afraid of the shadows, and some saw them as tools to be used - a very human particularity, that, the human need to use everything. But there were few who knew them, who trusted them, and even among those, there were very few who did so as completely as the man named Everick. Born with the peculiar - and powerful - power to manipulate the shadows, it had made Everick a feared man in the circle, far more than his very average psychic powers, even more than his agility and exceptional endurance. He knew the shadows, trusted them, and walked in them, and became known as the Shadowwalker.

He was shadowwalking at this very moment, stepping around in the Shadow World, making his way through the forested domain that surrounded the secretive Shinobi Stronghold where many of the most fearsome oriental assassins had become such because of the great training they had here. It was rumored that the Grand Shinobi Master Geki lived there, and Everick had learned this to be true. But he wasn't interested in Geki, or the Shinobi in particular. There was only one person he wanted here. Just one person he had to kill.

He scaled the elaborate wall, still cloaked in the silence and stealth of his shadows, actually passing under the nose of another Shinobi. Kale most probably would have had his fun killing the man, and a few more, before doing what he really was supposed to do. Everick wasn't even tempted to do such a thing. He had one person to kill, and that was what he intended to do. No more.

He looked at the many oriental structures, and spotted the place were his target slept when she spent days training at the place, and walked in the middle of the structures. He passed a Buddha Statue and stopped. He walked towards it, letting his shadows fall out from him. A risk, but a minimal one, since it was night. He knelt before the statue.

"Forgive me for the lives I will take. That is but the line that fate has directed to me." he said coldly, but respectfully. He had an high faith in some higher power, and wished for things to be clear, if only with Him. He was just about to arise when a kunai embedded itself in the ground just beside him.

Immediately reflexes took over, and pitched to the side, rolled and came to his feet, his stance angry. This Shinobi DARED to attack a praying man?!? That was completely unacceptable to him. He thus gathered his powers to him, and with a strong mental command, sent the shadows closing in on the man, enveloping him before he could raise the alarm. He then waited for the man to die.

It didn't take long, just as he had surmised - only powerful psychics and he were immune to the concentrated negative energy that was released in his Shade Scythe attack, as he liked to dub it. By the time a minute had passed, Everick felt no life, nothing but the shadows. He let them fall, too the body under one arm, and flung it between two buildings. It'd be found soon enough, he knew, but not before he was far gone.

Still, he felt somewhat ashamed. He shouldn't have had to kill, wouldn't have had to if he'd stuck to the job. But the tradition he had to pray for forgiveness was an old one, and old habits always died hard. Shrugging off the problem as one would shrug off an itch on one's finger, he called his shadows to hide his presence all over again, before anyone could notice him again and continued on his way.

He opened the door soundlessly and made his way through the corridors, using his limited psychic abilities to 'feel' where his target was. As he did so, he remembered exactly what Kale, his ever-smiling, ever-twisted friend, had told him.

"I'm going to meet the Elders soon." he had said , his tone light and uncaring "But you, you'll do something for me, my dear friend!"

"And what would that be?

"Take out that girl, that Shinobi - Ibuki, I think her name was. She's been a pain to both me and my brother, and we'd both be happy if she vanished. Just make sure its not a pleasant death."

"Not pleasant?" he had prodded.

"Or you can chose to let her live, but in that case, I want you to break her utterly, in such a way that she'd never recover. Not just crippled, SHATTERED in both the physical and the mental sense."

"I can choose any of the two."

"Or come up with your own if you want!" he'd said happily, his smile very wide. Then they let the subject drop to a close.

He'd chosen a quick death. Not only because it would be more efficient, but because the young girl was one those people who understood the shadows, even if only a little. He wished no harm upon those who thought in a such a way. Yes, a quick death would be the best way.

He finally came to the sliding door that he wished to enter. She was definitely one the other side, alone. He nodded to himself absently. This was going the way he wanted it to. He slid the door open and stepped in.

Inside was a rather Spartan room. A mat, of course, some cushions, a desk, papers and pens on top, some furniture and clothes. Very ordinary, no flavor of her personality. He was unsurprised by it however: this was where she trained, not the place she normally lived in. He wished she HAD been at her house - it would have made things easier for him.

He approached the sleeping figure, feeling a twinge of conscience. So young, so beautiful, so full of life. This wasn't the way she should die. But his duty was clear. Death or atrocious crippling. Between the two, death was the most merciful. Unless he could come up with something else. In that case, what could it be?

And then she spoke, calmly, surprising him. "You may show yourself now. I know there is someone here."

He was astounded. As far as he knew, only high-level psychics could detect through his shadows and invisibility. How could she? How? But he refused to let his turmoil show, and he let his power drop out again, with serenity and dignity. Black eyes met black eyes silently, and Everick was enthused by the level of spirit he felt from her. She was of Geki's blood alright!

"I must admit to be impressed." he said at length "Few there are in the world that may see me when I wish it not."

She smirked slightly. "Than I'm lucky, ain't I?" her tone turned cold and serious then. "You're Everick. I've seen you before. You were there when they tortured Cammy."

"White? Yes, indeed I was."

"Why are you here?"

He sighed, bowing his head a little. "To do my duty, I suppose. Not a very likable one, I know, but given the fact you managed to alienate tow powerful underground lords, you probably will receive what I will give you, or at least am supposed to."

She tensed, but no alarm showed on her determined face. She was wary, but if she was frightened she hid it well. He resolved to end this quickly and raised his head again, making a firm eye contact again.

"You see." he said neutrally, his face rigid, a true mask. "I am here, quite simply, to kill you."

* * * * * * * * * *
Around the same time...

She'd never been too hot on celebrations, and she really couldn't tell why she'd decided to hold one - even if there were only two people. A sense of giddiness maybe - the mission had been an easy thing, far easier than what they usually did, and also the fact that it had been the first one they'd done ever since...well...that time, had filled her with some fresh energy, that needed a more casual kind of release. Hence the little celebration.

And they'd both celebrated, although Jeremy, with his weaker digestive system, had taken care to be a little more moderate, but only in a very slight sense. And now, they were in a taxi, heading back to their hotel, tired but still ecstatic.

"Man, did you see that fatso in the bar? He really thought I was a friend of his!" Jeremy chuckled.

"Invited you home for a drink?"

"Nah, a barbecue, if you can believe that."

He chuckled again, and after a moment she joined him. She was a bit surprised at herself. Before Shadowlaw, she had rarely laughed at all. Too serious, too bossy. After Shadowlaw, well, she didn't want to laugh, and that, it seemed, was that. And yet that night she had actually laughed a few times - short laughs, of course, but they were there, she had felt them - and felt nearly as alive as the time she and Jeremy had professed their love for each other. She gave the man she was growing accustomed to loving a quick look, and found him leaning back, his eyes closed, a slight smile on his lips. He'd enjoyed both the evening and the night.

Oh, tomorrow would be less entertaining. They'd write reports, file them, and then take a flight back to London to go sit back a while behind a desk until the operations were back in full swing - which might take at least a few weeks. So why not take the time they had and have a little fun? Their job was done right now.

"Feeling drowsy, Jer?" she asked suddenly.

He kept his eyes closed but shook his head. "Nope. No way. I'm a night creature. I just can't get sleepy after dark. Always been a problem, ever since I was a kid."

"So you don't have to sleep right now, huh?"

Now he opened his eyes. Now he looked at her, his eyes showing curiosity and, as he said, not even a little hint of drowsiness. "That was a strange question, love. You want to do something else."

She felt strange. Fearful, but not the kind of fear one usually had in dangerous situation. It was more like some kind of hesitant anticipation. She knew what had come up in her mind, knew it quite well. But there could be problems with that. But she suddenly wanted to try.

"Maybe." she said hesitantly, "Lets just wait until we're back to the room, okay?"

He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, then finally gave a nod and turned a quite apprehensive look out the window. She knew he had understood the implications, and also knew his silence meant he was trying to deal with it.

They finally came to the hotel, paid the taxi, and went up the elevator. It was an awkward silence, one that hadn't been present between them for a long while. She didn't feel that good about it - darn it, why were they both that nervous? She knew she wanted to make that step, she wanted to really show him how much she loved him. Surely he did as well!

Once inside the room - simple room with two double beds, a fridge, table, a small bathroom and a television set - she tried to initiate something with a kiss. It was clumsy debut, she felt that people experienced in that particular activity would have scoffed. Fortunately, he responded readily enough, and they hugged each other. She then forced his mouth open with her tongue, and soon his own joined the game. She was starting to feel hot, and her hands went under the white shirts, brushing a bare, muscled frame that was the end result of a natural athletic tendency, compounded by a good regimen and honed by over twelve years of training, many hours per day, with focus and willpower. She felt herself go further and further into that blank, warm thing inside of her, and started to let herself go.

Then one of his hands strayed under her pants...

She felt it then - a massive fear that smothered the growing sexual desires she'd had. It came with unreasonable speed, bringing images and words with them.

"You're mine, Cammy. No one can help you..."

"No! Let go of me! LET GO!"

"Shut up, bitch! There's nothing you can do, nothing that matters except what I wish for! Accept you fate with some amount of dignity."

"You can't! I don't want it. I don't want it, no!"

"FINE! Struggle if you wish it. It'll only make it more challenging, and far be it for me to shy from a CHALLENGE!"

"NO, STOP! PLEASE! DON'T TOUCH ME! NO! NOOOOOOOO!!!!"

"NO!" she shouted, pulling back fearfully, shoving the man in front of her away. No! He couldn't do that. It hurt, didn't he see? It hurt! Why didn't stop, why didn't...she blinked then, her reason coming back to her, and she found herself staring at Jeremy, who looked back at her with a mixture of confusion, irritation and guilt. She remembered what she was doing and, as that fear relented, what she'd wanted. She suddenly was overwhelmed by the need to cry, but her pride forbid that she cried in front of anyone, even him. So, without a word, she rushed inside the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it before he could enter as well. Then she collapsed on the toilet, weeping as silently as she could, unable to hold back a few loud sobs.

Why? She wanted it, she wanted it! Why couldn't she see behind the fear? Why couldn't she give something of herself to the man she loved? But of course she knew why. Rose had told her this could happen. It was Bison, Bison's psychic meddling. Damn him! Damn him to Hell! Didn't he torture her, abuse her enough? Couldn't he leave her in PEACE!?!? The ache within her told her that it wouldn't be that easy.

A soft knock at the door. "Cammy?"

"Leave me alone!" she half-shouted, her voice breaking.

"No." his voice answered calmly "That's the kind of thing I'll never do. Open the door."

She shook her head. Then, realising there was no way he could see the gesture, she talked. "No. I-I just want a few minutes, okay? Its hard, I...Jer, I didn't want, didn't mean..."

A sigh on the other side. "Okay. Just don't beat yourself over it, okay. We BOTH know its not your fault. I got a good idea what happened. And Cammy?"

"Yes?"

"It doesn't matter, you know. The sex. Just don't push me away from you. I love you."

She closed her eyes. She knew that. And she knew that she should answer this, but for a moment, the words caught. She nearly had to force them out.

"I love you too."

But, unless a miracle happened, she'd never be able to show the true depth of it. And right now, faced with it and its possible long-term repercussions, she suddenly felt small, fragile and desperate. She hated it, but so it was.

"Jeremy...could you...could you sleep with me, tonight?" she asked "No kiss, no hug. Just...would you just...hold me tonight?"

An hesitation on the other side. Then a shifting of weight. "If that's what you want, then sure."

"Thank you." And she meant the words.

With all of her heart.

* * * * * * * * * *

Around the same time...

"Why?"

This was the first thing that had come upon Ibuki's mind, the first thing she could think of saying. A question. It surprised him, from the look of his face. He probably was waiting for something like fear or anger, and this completely stumped him. To be truthful, she was fairly surprised at the question herself. What was the purpose of it? She should be feeling something, and she did: fear, rage, anger, all these emotions were there, but removed somewhat, as if there was nothing to be really afraid of. Her instincts told her not to attack yet, and she had come, by experience, never to question her instincts. But it still sounded mighty weird to her, this morbid curiosity.

Although his face didn't show it, she felt a whiff of confusion from the tall, black-garbed man in front of her, a second of uncertainty, quickly smothered.

"Well, it seems I have explained it," he said curiously "You managed to irk two powerful underground crime lords, and so I was sent to dispatch you."

"Then why the speech?" she asked further "Why didn't you just do it?"

"I always want my victims to know the reasons of their death." he said smoothly, but there was a strange hesitation present in his deep voice now. "There is no other reason."

That was a flat-out lie if she'd ever heard one. There definitely WAS another reason, and she found it proven by the very fact that they were having a relatively normal - even though the SITUATION was weird - conversation. If he TRULY was supposed to kill her, why wasn't he going about this business instead of wasting time? Any second, someone could hear him, sense his presence, and give the alarm. No, there was another reason.

However, it changed nothing to the situation. From what she'd heard from Everick - frightened whispers and mutterings for the most part - he was at one with the shadows, actually controlling them. This, she could easily believe, for he had seemed to appear out of nowhere in her very room. Most of his power was derived from this incredible ability. Moreover, he was known to possess at least some chi powers, and to be a well-trained man. All in all, an extremely dangerous opponent, that she wasn't sure she could handle, here in his element, even if she were fully prepared - which she wasn't.

Some would have called this a pretty desperate situation. Not Ibuki. She refused to visualize situations as desperate, had no use for the word. Even this situation didn't deter her. Her kunai were near at hand, and she her mind was already starting to channel her energies and ready her skills. He was a tough opponent - attacking him head on would be a folly. But if he only looked sideways, even for an instant.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't bother. Don't fight me. You will not win." he said, a little less neutral, a little more hotly.

"If you are so certain of that, why ain't I dead? Why the stalling, huh?"

He gritted his teeth. "That's not..."

What he was about to reveal was lost as her door opened hesitantly, revealing Hiro, a young Shinobi trainee. He seemed caught between sleep and awareness, and looked vaguely irritated. "Ibuki-sempai, I'm sorry about this intrusion, but could you please remember that this is NIGHT and that..." he stopped as he came to realization the object of his complaint wasn't alone. He blinked.

That was all he had the time to do. As he blinked, Everick moved, shadows coalescing and grasping the half-awake youth by the neck, holding him up, strangling him. He made a single squeaking sound, his eyes snapping open, his hands going to the strange mass that was choking him.

"No!" she cried, immediately lunging into action, grabbing her kunai and swiftly flicking three in her enemy's direction. He put his arm in front of his face, and the knives impacted...and fairly rebounded. For a second confused, she realized what that meant. The black suit was inlaid in kevlar, or at least the sleeves were.

No kunai? Fine. Skills then. She jumped up and away , coming forward and delivering a precise mid-air kick. The man twisted, but not enough, and she impacted his shoulder instead of his neck. He gave a grunt, his lips tight, but managed to retain both his stance and the hold he had on the helpless trainee. His hand lashed out, knocking her a safe distance as she came down. She flipped, came to her feet smoothly, only to have an uncounscious Hiro barreling toward her, sent by the forces that Everick controlled.

She side-stepped and the poor boy crashed on her pallet. She cast him a quick, worried look before glaring back at her enemy. "If you've killed him..."

The man was unflappable. "You would attack me, and if you died someone would take your place, yaddy yaddy yadda, until your casualties would mount too high and you'd do the intelligent action and stop your attacks. But there is no need for threats in this case. He will live. I do not kill such young weak boys. Unlike the other fool who saw me when I came here."

She wanted to snarl at the impassive tone the man had, but refrained. Instead she attacked again, this time with fury. Not a fury that dulled the senses. Her fury was a cold one, which honed them, gave them a better access to her reserves, and greater odds of success against the man.

She came at him like a snake, pulling off sharp, precise chops, side-blows, and kicks. He answered with a very opaque defense. She gave him a kick to the solar plexus, and he staggered back two full steps. But before she could capitalize on the successful attack, he was back at her, with a knee-elbow combo that she barely dodged. She wondered, with all the noise they must be making, how it was possible that no one else had come besides Hiro.

As if reading her very thoughts, he spoke to her about it. "Yes, that would seem strange. But the answer is actually quite simple. I've put a psychic pall of silence around the room. No one will bother us, not before we are finished here."

He then slashed his left forearm sideways, three times, towards her. Her senses kicked into overdrive and she flung herself backward, just barely avoiding the drawer the had been aimed at her head. She didn't have time to do much about the other two, however, and she took them both, one impacting her ribs soundly, the other her left leg. The impacts would have been sufficient to send a normal girl down for the count, but Ibuki was anything but normal, her chi suffusing her body, giving her greater strength and endurance. Still she felt it, and her balance was lost for an instant.

An instant. An eternity.

Before she could do anything, she felt his knee, reinforced by his great strength and powers, hit her dep in the stomach. She gasped, feeling bile rise up. She hunched a little, dazed, and was welcomed there by a powerful uppercut that sent her crashing into the wall. She tasted warm blood. Still, although the blows hurt she came down and up at once, lunging forward again. He hadn't expected this, not at all, hadn't thought she'd recover that fast - if she recovered at all. He stepped aside, but she caught him with a firm side chop, following up with a kick immediately, he pitched to the side, and she saw blood stream from the corner of his mouth.

And then he was back, tearing at her, not pulling the punches at the slightest. He hit her hard, battering her defenses, finally catching her with a punch that cracked the ribs that had been bruised by the flung drawer. She groaned, let her defense fall reflexively - and got a solid drop-kick to her shoulders, she leaned forward. Another one, stronger. And another. And another. Quickly. Relentlessly. She went down. Before she could get back up, she felt his knee trust deep and painfully into her back, and his hand caught her by the hair and smashed her head into the floor. Still she struggled, not willing to simply die like this. The hand smashed her face into the ground again and again, unyielding. Finally, she felt too dizzy to fight much, and her struggles relaxed. Then he sighed.

"Enough, Shinobi. You fought excellently, but the fight was mine from the beginning. Your passion is your strength, but in this case it wasn't sufficient." another sigh, longer. "No, I can't let this be done. Not this way. Fighters like you deserve far more than to die so helplessly."

And then his hand was gone, as well as the knee pinning her. She flung herself back up, ignoring the pain. She stared. He was looking at her stonily, not even winded, wiping the blood on his face slowly.

"Why?" she asked.

"That question again. I have no ready answer, except that your will to live impressed me. I will not be the one to break such a will - if anything save death may break it. However, I warn you not to meddle in either the affairs of Shadowlaw and The Circle ever again...or you and I will surely meet once more.

And with that, he vanished, growing ghostly,then invisible. She couldn't do anything but stare, for she was in no state to try and follow. And then, before his presence wafted away like so much smoke, he spoke one last time, sternly, but somehow sadly.

"And if we ever meet again, I will be forced to kill you."

And with that, he was gone, and Ibuki faced only empty air.

* * * * * * * * * *

Four days later...

Henry Morton drove his car up the alley leading to the SCD Headquarters, scanning around. Like most of London, he had heard the battle here raging in the distance, all these months ago. And like all of England, indeed most of the world, had been shocked by it. Never since the Second World War had England ever been attacked this way. After half a century of peace, the newer generations - including his - had thought impossible that England would ever see war on its homegrounds. It had been a wake-up call for the nation and the entire Western World.

And it showed on the SCD building. It had not only been rebuilt, but visibly reinforced by ceramic alloys, steel, and electronic systems. Radars could be seen openly, and twice the usual number of crafts were stationed permanently, making tight, vigilant rounds. It was also rumored that new, cutting-edge devices had been planted all around the perimeter of the base, giving more than ample warning of an attack.

It was clear that no one would surprise SCD HQ anymore.

However, he wasn't here for such world-shaking business, but for a more personal, more human reason. He stopped his car just next to the stairs leading to the main doors. He got out of the car, walking up the stairs with a determined gait. The soldier guarding the door soon got out of the cubicle and hailed him. He showed his badge to cut things short.

"Inspector Henry Morton, Criminal Investigations, Scotland Yard." he said sternly, in his best I'm-on-business-so-don't-waste-my-time voice. "I wish to speak with a certain Jeremy Storm on a subject of great importance to both of us."

The soldier looked at the badge, then nodded. "I'll see if he's there." then walked back to his cubicle, taking up the phone. Morton settled to waiting patiently. He did not have to wait long, for soon the man appeared again, somewhat less wary. "You may go in. There's an anteroom on your right. If you would please wait there, officer Storm will go to meet with you."

"Very well." nodded Morton and he entered the building. He soon found the anteroom - a rather clean and white thing with a few chairs and magazines - and chose a seat. Then he looked at his watch, leaned back slightly, and waited some more. He had done that a lot these days. But patience had always given him good results. And he needed those desperately. A life may be depending on it.

"You wished to see me, sir?"

He would have started at the voice, except he wasn't this kind of man. He looked around and saw a man in a green, black and red outfit standing near him. He was young man, and looked much like the photos the inspector had seen - relatively tall, athletic, short brown hair, intelligent grey eyes. And the stony edge of a professional fighter and soldier. Not a young man one should take lightly. Morton stood up and shook hands with him.

"Yes. Henry Morton."

"Jeremy Storm. I'd normally say its a pleasure, but given the nature of your position, I doubt I'll find what you have to say much pleasurable."

Cunning kid, thought the policeman, gets right to the heart of the matter without appearing brusque about it. He gave a slight grin that disappeared quickly. "No indeed. Let's sit down. It won't take long. Just have a question or two to ask, a few facts to clear."

Jeremy nodded and sat. Morton did the same and immediately attacked with his first volley.

"You may or may not know it, but there was a murder perpetrated January eighteen, at around two hours in the morning. Did you know of it?"

A slow shake of the head. "No, I really didn't. First I've heard of it, sir."

"Simply to make things clear, where were you when this crime occurred?"

Storm paused, considering, probably searching his memory. "At that time...onboard a plane enroute to Sydney, Australia. It can be verified, of course. And my partner could testify."

Morton nodded. All this he knew already, had only asked to test the waters. This Storm was an honorable man, his intuition told him. Not a liar, not one who went against the law, not gladly at least. Now was the harder part. The next questions and answers were essential for if their suspicions proved true, he might well need this young man.

"The victim was a woman. Young, lively, with no known enemies and no criminal file. A university person, with a nice family, a car, a boyfriend. A person with no problem." he paused, keeping his eyes fixed on Storm, who was looking back, curious. "She was beaten to death and left to die in an alley."

Storm's face grew troubled, as if part of his mind understood the implications of what had been said. Morton decided to clear the table.

"Officer Storm, you have a cousin named Thomas, do you not?"

THAT touched a nerve. An almighty, sensitive one. The young man's face twitched, his eyes blazed for a moment, and his hands griped the armrests tightly. Morton did not miss the flash of naked hatred that passed in those eyes. Having read what had happened between the two, he wasn't surprised to find it, but the depth of it shook him up a little. This was a dangerous man indeed. Not a murderer, no, but dangerous.

"Yes, I do." stiffly said, with tight control. This wasn't a pleasant conversation as far as Storm was concerned. "But it can't be him. He's interned in an asylum in Boston.

"Then you were not told that your cousin escaped the facility nearly four months ago?"

Storm leaned forward frantically, his face paling. His eyes were wide, disbelieving. A shiver tore through his obviously muscular frame. "What? That's not possible! I-I had absolutely no idea."

"Interesting. Why would such crucial information be retained from you?"

Jeremy leaned back, his pale complexion reddening, his expression clouding. A thought had struck him, it seemed. Not a pleasant one, clearly. "No." he said in a low voice "I don't know why, I'm not certain." his eyes blazed anew "But I will find out."

"Sir, then I hate to be telling you this: there was another woman there, and her body hasn't been found. Which leads up to a logical conclusion."

Another paling. Poor young man. This was like going through Hell over and over again. "Logical, it would be...oh God." He closed his eyes.

"Would you accept helping me by giving me any information you might find?" a slow nod. "Thank you, officer. Then, the news I had to deliver are so." he stood up. With difficulty, Storm did as well. They shook hands. Morton found that Storm's grip lacked strength this time. "I do hope we will be able to find him before he does anyone else anymore harm."

"I hope so, sir. Sincerely, I do. But if it is Tom, then I have serious doubts that he'll stop at one victim." the tone was bitter, showing a new hollowness. The discussion ended at that, and Morton left a few minutes later. His last view of Storm was the man standing in the middle of the anteroom, staring vaguely around.

But before he left, he distinctively if faintly heard a frantic, angry cry, and also heard the sound of a wooden chair impacting a wall. Yes, the news had been shocking. This was the voice of someone who felt angry and betrayed.

Woe to the one this betrayal was due from.

___________________________________________

Well, well, a new chap! I know it was quick, but now and for the next few days I'm gonna have a lot of time on my hands. So expect more chaps! ^_^

Next chap: Jer goes to the US to understand why he wasn't told about Thomas's escape. Also, more on Thomas and his twisted life and morals.

See you in Chapter 21!

Jeremy