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GI JOE Season 3: episode 2
"Invincible Shield"
Ho Chi Minh City - May 1,1975
Chapter 8
The transfer of power was peaceful, and yet there was still an air of tension among the populace of the reborn city.
A transient, dressed in rags, ducked into an alleyway as NVA soldiers patrolled the streets. He kept his back bent in order to hide his stature. His face remained hidden under a wide-brimmed straw hat as he stayed in the shadows.
His caution made for a long walk to the cemetery. He maneuvered the maze of headstones until he reached two makers placed side-by-side, one of which was freshly dug.
He knelt at the base of the grave. My beloved wife and daughter.
He retrieved two flowers from under his poncho and placed one at the fore of each headstone. By the bright moonlight his trembling fingers turned the pages of his little bible to a bookmarked passage. He strained to read it aloud to no avail; he discarded it angrily – unable to say his goodbyes properly. A breeze came from the east, and the air became humid.
I'm so sorry, baby.
"You will find it quite impossible to speak."
Preacher snapped his head in the direction of the familiar voice, and he rose. Coming out from behind a nearby obelisk, Old-Man came into view and approached the wary American.
"I saw it when I looked into your eyes on that rooftop. You hover between existence and non-existence, a spirit rooted to this earth by his grief, forever unable to commune with the living or the dead, until that grief is resolved." Old-Man stopped at the foot of the grave marker. The sound made as he dug the balls of his feet into the loose, rocky soil gave him away. "I knew that they would call for you; I knew that you could not resist…" He clenched his fist – "DEFEND YOURSELF, DEMON" – and he pounced from the mist.
Preacher looked up too late to dodge the flying fist that Old-Man planted across his jaw. He fell to the ground, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.
Old-Man massaged his affected hand. "In my youth, I was an officer of the Manchu Imperial Guard, chosen to protect the last emperor of China. We were, of course, trained to be the perfect warriors; in order to make us better protectors, we were taught the art of assassination, because it takes an assassin to defeat an assassin."
Preacher vaulted to his feet and charged. Old-Man parried a punch, lifted his leg to shin-block a kick, and caught a haymaker aimed for his head. They locked eyes, fist and palm struggling in a tug-of-war.
"I forsook my mandate for the love of a woman. We ran far away and made a life for ourselves. In my betrayal, my emperor was captured. As a result, karma has caught up to me: my wife, daughter and granddaughter have paid the price for my sins. The only thing I have left to live for is revenge. And I have chosen you as my instrument of vengeance!"
Preacher pushed off and broke free from Old-Man's grasp. Old-Man threw a punch, which was deftly parried, then followed it up with a kick to the ribs. Preacher brought his elbow down to jam the kick, and he then connected with an uppercut that sent Old-Man flying backwards.
Old-Man rolled as he landed and recovered in a kneeling position. He grinned with approval and spat out a tooth. "Out of all the disciplines that I have mastered, Ninjutsu was the least tolerable. There is nothing lower than a Ninja. They have no honor. They have no country. Greed is their master. Their Qi is poisoned. If you ever face a Ninja, know that he is your enemy!"
Both men charged. Old-Man entered low with a spinning leg sweep. Preacher leaped into the air to avoid the sweep, his foot raised high for an ax-kick. Old-Man launched, spinning, as he flailed his arms with his hands clawed. The first claw swatted Preacher's kick aside; the follow-up came about and raked against his face, sending the soldier spiraling to the ground.
He landed nimbly, towering over the youth. "That technique is called The Windmill Tiger. When performed correctly, there is no defense." He allowed Preacher to rise. "I lost against that Ninja because I am old and have allowed my skills to deteriorate. The Ninja defeated you, however, because you have honor; you fight for love. A ninja uses his enemies love in such a way that you cannot destroy him without destroying yourself. The only defense against this Invincible Shield technique is to love nothing—to feel nothing."
Enraged, Preacher rushed him. Old-Man kicked him in the chest as he charged, but Preacher muscled through it and tackled him to the ground. They rolled to their feet, where Preacher managed to get a hold of Old-Man's wrist. He cranked the wrist hard. Old-Man crouched into the stalking crane stance to relieve the pressure on his shoulder; he clasped his hands and broke free from Preacher's grip. Before Preacher could react, two fingers perforated the nerve cluster between the youth's trapezius and collarbone.
Preacher winced as the affected side of his body became numb; it felt like fire shooting down to his toes. He slumped to the ground, his body bucked involuntarily, struggling to breathe, as his nervous system was short-circuited.
"The Crane Hides the Cobra... if I had struck with full Qi, you would be truly dead now."
He abandoned the prostrated youth, content to have him to writhe on the ground, and returned to the headstones. He kneeled over the markers, regarding them for the first time, and allowed only a single tear to express his grief. He spoke softly and slowly, lest his voice crack when he spake:
"For the part... that you played... in the deaths of my daughter and granddaughter, I curse you... You will walk the Earth as a shadow – a wraith. And you will kill every single ninja that crosses your path, until there are no more ninja left to kill."
Old-Man averted his eyes, looking upon these headstones for the last time. Walking as a grasshopper in the still air, he approached his new charge, silently, with care.
Preacher was turned over. It started to rain. The pressure point, responsible for his pain, was expertly massaged, and his convulsions did wane. His tears washed away, never to be shed again.
"Your training begins in three weeks when you are fully healed. You will meet me here at the next full moon."
Preacher painfully managed to his feet, and he regarded his new master for several seconds. He finally averted his eyes and bowed.
Old-Man left, not bothering to so much as look over his shoulder in reply. "Do not bow to me like some Japanese dog... I am not your Sensei."