Chapter VIII: A Parting Of Ways

A/N: Still no luck with owning Tekken.

So I'm back with an update on this story, as part of the holiday special.

And you can brighten MY holidays with your feedback.

Streltsy HQ in Seoul, 10:00 pm

They were all gathered there, the nine Streltsy executives, each occupying his designated seat around the long , rectangular conference table that stood in the middle of this huge, dimlit, circular chamber, with its stone walls and floors, and its Gothic statues that depicted various forms of monstrosities, none as terrifying as the Nine, sitting there with their faces swathed in darkness, awaiting their leader's word.

" I have just had word from one of our trusted informants that the position of our special mole had been compromised before he could accomplish his mission." The voice was cold, hard, exuding power and authority.

There was a restless rustle, but no-one else spoke.

" Clearly we have underestimated the boy; his resourcefulness and cunning are quite astonishing for someone his age, and while he still lives, our Cause remains in jeopardy. Something must be done..."

"It's all so simple, sir," a harsh voice declared. " We use the Dragunov; he has never failed the Cause. He will infiltrate the Interpol like a shadowy ghost and silence the boy once and for all!"

"Ah, but the boy is no longer in their custody. Detective Lei Wulong, of Hong Kong Interpol, specifically the Anti Terrorist Force, has released him, right under his superiors' noses. And with Boskonovitch's betrayal, and his past connection with Wulong, I fear we have little time. But there is always an answer: Terror." The others listened raptly."We strike pure terror in the boy's heart, we break him, and he is sure to make a mistake that will play him right into our hands. I want it done this way; I want to know the extent of his knowledge."

He pushed a control button and a screen came to life, and the Nine stared at various snapshots of a tall, stern-looking man in a beige suit and hat." We wil hit the boy where it hurts most. The Dragunov will do it."

XXXXXXX

Sing District, Seoul, 8:00 am

" Are you sure you wanna do this , kid?" Lei asked quietly for the hundredth time.

Hwoarang fidgeted in the passenger seat of the sedan, looking out the window at the deserted ghostville that used to be his lively home district. "Look, let's just get it over with," he muttered irritably. " It's not as if you haven't pushed me to do it in the first place." He stared hard at Kim's antique shop, still sealed off by yellow police tape.

Lei sighed." Right; just checking."

Hwoarang pushed open the car door and with one last look at Lei, marched off to meet the object of his nightmares.

He had known all along it would come to this: Him going back to the antique shop to open Kim's secret vault, the large well-concealed cavity in the wall that Kim had told him was to stash all their coke in the event of an emergency such as a police raid. But what about other emergencies? Would he have left me something? he wondered. This really was his only lead, and if it failed, then the trail was dead cold. For real.

He unsealed it with trembling fingers and reached for the single envelope resting on the top shelf. Inside were two papers. He read the first.

Dear Hwoarang

I know that by the time you have read this I will be dead, and you, with some calculation on my part, and luck on yours, will be alive and well, and in good hands, for I will never have your death on my conscience, boy. I beg you not to be angry with me, or to mourn me. I lived a crook, and died a crook, but for once in my life, I managed to do the right thing. And so should you.

Farewell

Kim

The tears were flowing freely, and when he became aware of them, he cursed colourfully and swiped at his eyes, before turning his attention to the second sheet of paper. For a moment, he gaped at it, not comprehending the intricate pattern of boxes and lines and arrows and scribbled letters. Then as his grief slowly ebbed away, and his mind began to whir, it dawned on him.

It's a map! But where does it lead? Then again it clicked as he saw the words"Warehouse District' circled in blue in one corner, and the words" Streltsy DO" circled in red in another, signifying the start and endpoints of the map.

DO! Drug Outlet! He scanned the map, his heart racing. Seoul's Warehouse District was a highly intricate maze, without the added complication that the location he sought was one that was wll-hidden, and invisible except to those who knew where to look. Plus the various obstacles along the way...

Left ... right... right again... straight ahead... left corner... wall... damn.. damn... damn... it's too complicated!

Then he remembered Lei, and quickly pocketed the map and went back outside. Lei said nothing as he noticed his red-rimmed eyes, just accepted the letter and read it. Finally, he said," That's all there is?"

"Yeah," Hwoarang replied flatly, looking him straight in the eye.

" I'm sorry."

He was met with a careless shrug.

XXXXXXX

Baek Do San residence, 6:00 pm

Hwoarang had spent the better part of the day committing the contents of Kim's map to memory, barely registering Baek, who constantly flitted in and out of the house, offering no explanation to his strange behavior.

When Hworang was sure he'd done his best, he went to the bathroom and flushed the map down the toilet, not wanting it to fall into hands other than his own, including the Interpol's. When he came out, Baek was waiting for him, arms crossed.

" What were you doing?" Baek asked.

" What did it look like I was doing?" Hwoarang retorted. He headed for his room, but Baek stopped him.

" Don't you take that tone with me, young man! I saw your master's letter, and I can tell that you're up to something. Why haven't you been forthcoming with me?"

Hwoarang buried his hands in his pockets, glaring resentfully." Now wait a sec, I can talk to you the way I want; you're not my master-he's dead. You didn't teach me everything I know, he did. You didn't protect me from the Triads, he did. You didn't take the Interpol off my ass, Lei did. You didn't save me from their damn mole, Lei did. So then, tell me, exactly what do I owe you?!"

Baek's face was flushed an ugly red, his mouth a taut line, but Hwoarang ploughed on heedlessly. "You ask me why I'm not being forthcoming with you?! Heck, I should be asking you that! Oh, and by the way, did you kill anyone lately, besides your father, I m-" Baek's open palm slammed into Hworang's face. For a moment, they stood there, both looking incredulous, then Hworang massaged his cheek, tasting blood.

" Fine then," Hworang finally hissed. " since you've put it that way..." He pushed past him to his room, grabbed his prepared backpack and his new jacket, and stalked past Baek again, down the stairs, and into the hall, then out of the house, forcefully slamming the door behind him.

XXXXXXX

A/N: A bit too short, right? But don't worry, next update is sooner than you think. It's holiday season after all!

Please Read and Review!