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PART 13
"The Hawk Returns"
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Betsy and Warren got back to the apartment around 1 o'clock in the morning. Betsy sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly and walked to the door of her room. She looked back to see Warren standing in front of the fireplace in silent thought. She walked up behind him and slid an arm around his waist.

"What are you thinking about," she asked. He looked at her, placing an arm around her shoulder.

"What we can do to stop those people," he replied, "I mean, there's just two of us, there's a few dozen of them."

"When the time comes, I'm sure we'll be able to stop them," Betsy said with a smile, "but for now I'm going to bed." She kissed him on the cheek, "Goodnight, my Angel," she winked. She then went into her room and closed the door, slipping out of the dress she wore and getting into a light blue silk nightgown. She sat on the bed, brushing her hair and smiling in thought. She had been very lucky to find Warren, he had almost completely taken her mind off of the X-Men. She had decided that this was her fate, to be by his side and to help him stop the plans of the Hellfire Club. She could only hope and pray that the X-Men were all still alive and well. As she thought about the meeting tonight, the image of Emma Frost continually entered her mind. The older girl had given Betsy a very bad feeling, something was not quite right about her, but Psylocke tried very hard to push these thoughts to the back of her mind. Frost was just another telepath, no one to be afraid of. Betsy put her comb down on the night table at her bedside and laid down, curling up under the covers, holding them tight against herself. She looked out the window seeing the starry sky and watched the breeze blow through the curtains. But she had closed the window when she left with Warren, she thought. A chill shot down her spine. Suddenly, she felt cool metal resting against her throat.

"Scream and you die, little butterfly," the voice froze Psylocke's blood. It was very familiar to her. In fact, she once identified it as her own.

"What do you want from me, Kwannon?" Betsy's voice quivered, her entire body shaking with fear.

"You took everything from me, you little witch. First my body, then Matsu'o's trust! I went back to him after I awakened, he tried to have me killed, believing that I was you, but I, naturally, bested his guards. It took some convincing, but he eventually believed that I was once his lover. I am here to relieve you of my body. If I can't have it, I certainly am not going to allow some little girl to possess it." She came around to look Psylocke in the face, holding the katana firmly against Betsy's throat.

"You would do something so dishonorable as to not even let me have a fair fight?" Betsy asked.

"I'm an assassin, not a warrior," Kwannon corrected with a smile, "however, I would very much enjoy a struggle with you. You bested me in psychic combat, this is true, but I'm quite confident that I can best you in physical combat, even in this pathetic excuse for a body. We have no need to worry about your precious Angel hearing us fight, I incapacitated him before I entered your room."

"If you hurt him..."

"I did no such thing. He was not my target, merely an innocent bystander. Now, get the katana at your bedside and we shall discover who is truly the superior fighter." Kwannon lifted the blade from Betsy's throat, and Psylocke picked up the katana, quickly jumping to her feet. Her hair blew in the wind, and the nightgown she wore restricted her movement somewhat. She swept the blade in a striking maneuver at Kwannon's head. The ninja easily blocked it, counteracting in a way which effectively threw Psylocke off balance.

"So aggressive," Kwannon said, swinging at Betsy. Their swords clashed together, the sound of metal grating against metal filled the air, "I like it... it's a shame I have to kill you." She grinned and the battle continued. Neither of the two gave quarter, however, it was clear that Kwannon was the superior sword-fighter. The assassin estimated one blow incorrectly and sliced off a piece of Psylocke's left shoulder. The girl ignored the wound, the blood pouring out onto her nightgown, and continued the fight. "I think after I finish you, I'll see if I can track down Xavier and the rest of your friends," she said, smiling. Betsy began to attack more aggressively, but Kwannon had been counting on that. "I think I'll start with that one who always wears the sunglasses, what is his name? Oh, yes... Scott." Betsy managed to connect one blow with Kwannon's right thigh. The woman winced, but continued to fight.

"Leave my friends alone!" Psylocke began to gain ground, catching Kwannon off guard by using the training that was ingrained in her mind. She just barely deflected a blow by Kwannon intended to remove her head. Betsy abandoned the use of her sword for a moment, and delivered a sharp kick to Kwannon's hand, knocking the katana from her hand. The assassin managed to easily disarm Psylocke, as well, and the two began to exchange blows in this fashion. The battle was beautiful in an incredibly violent way, the grace of the two combatants rivaling that of the most talented ballet dancers. Betsy was quickly beginning to fade, however, and was beginning to feel every single blow that was delivered to her. She gritted her teeth and unleashed a powerful mental blow on Kwannon that caught the assassin completely off guard. Betsy used the opportunity provided by this momentary distracting to get in a few extra hits, knocking Kwannon backwards toward the window. "You won't ever hurt anyone ever again!" She shouted, delivering a final kick to Kwannon's head. The woman stumbled backwards, losing her balance and falling out the window with a cry of defeat. Betsy was tempted to watch her foe fall to her doom, but didn't have the energy. She merely collapsed to the floor, sweating, bleeding, and crying. The battle had been won.

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TO BE CONTINUED
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