Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.

The final round of the tournament was going to take place in the heart of the temple, its inner yard where Chance and Guerrero so many years ago had gathered with the others for washing, meditation, exercise… four thirty in the morning, ice-cold water on their naked bodies… in hindsight Chance always remembered that particular ritual with a nostalgic smile.

Now the yard was going to become a battleground.

Eva studied her opponent with watchful eyes and great inner tension as he entered the marked out fighting area. On the one hand she was trying to assess his skills, his strengths and weaknesses. Although she had watched all tournament rounds she had no idea what her opponent was capable of because she had no idea who it was.

Tournament rules required all participants to wear either black or white karate style combat dresses, gloves and also matching masks. Even identifying the female fighters had been hard; any further distinguishing had been made impossible. The dresses, masks and gloves covered all individual features very successfully. Pity they were made of such thin fabric… a stronger material would have at least kept the snakes away.

All technical and strategic considerations aside, she was also contemplating the fact that her opponent was a human being. A living, breathing individual with feelings, ideas, hopes, dreams… and a family out there somewhere who would grieve him, should Eva succeed. Maybe even children. His black robe slightly rustled in the light breeze coming in with the slightly falling temperatures of the night drawing nigh. The moonlight reflected on the smooth surface of his black mask. Even the color of his eyes was indiscernible.

On the other hand, to get this far, to make it to the final round, that human being with feelings and all must have killed, must have pushed the first opponent into a lake full of crocodiles, the second down an abyss, the third into a pit full of snakes. It was impossible to determine for which group he was fighting, the terrorists, the drug cartel or maybe he even was another idealist like Eva herself… be that as it may, one thing was absolutely certain: If not already prior to the tournament, the man in front of her had definitely become a murderer in the course of it.

After having gotten this far and already having spilt blood, he would surely not hesitate to kill again. Eva hated to think like that, but the blunt truth was that mercy was out of the question here. She only had two options: Either to kill or to get killed. There was no other way. The rules were unambiguous regarding this particular issue: The tournament had to end with the death of one of the two final competitors.

The sun was setting over the tree tops of the rainforest. The sounds of the night set in… the high buzzing of the various insects, the calls of the nocturnal birds. Every now and then an angry growl from a clouded leopard echoed through the darkness… Torches were lit all along the walls of the yard. A couple of musicians gathered on the steps that led to the building with the tower where Ryuu had died so many years ago. Slowly they started beating their drums, creating a low rhythm, almost like a heartbeat. Both Eva and her opponent drew their swords.

… … …

"Damn, I can hardly see a thing!" Winston squinted at the monitor, then gave its side a light slap. Well, "light" by his standards. The screen briefly turned to snow.

"Dude! That's not your ten years plus old tube television! You think slapping improves visual quality? Wanna try out first hand?" Almost gently Guerrero adjusted the monitor's settings. Due to the poor lightning of the battleground there was not much he could do, though. At least they had an additional audio feed.

"I can't wait till this is over", Ames murmured with clenched teeth. Chance's plan was good, but his plans had a tendency to take on a life of their own. Aside from that Eva Khan was no lightweight. A fighter by nature she'd surely not simply play along. Especially since she was convinced that her life was on the line.

No matter how hard Ames tried, she had a bad feeling about all of this and she could tell from the faces of the others that she wasn't the only one.

Somewhere in the distance a clouded leopard hissed at an enemy.

… … …

Eva had inherited her sword from her father. Just like most classical katanas that were built for real fights, not show, the hilt was made of wood, wrapped into straps of silk and shagreen leather. Only the metal sword shell was slightly decorated with carnelian inlays. After the fight on the plank above the snake pit Eva couldn't help but think that that the gemstones resembled green mamba eyes. The curved pattern engraved into the shell didn't help either.

As a little girl she had studied the sword, it shiny blade and its intricate ornaments with deep fascination. All through the years she had regarded it as her most precious possession, the one thing that even in her darkest hours connected her with his father, his strength, the lessons she had learned from him. Now suddenly all she could think about were the snakes crawling right by her hands.

Her opponent's katana was not meant for show either, so much she could tell even from the distance. Reflections of the flickering flames were dancing on his blade as he slightly raised it and turned it sideways in classical starting position.

Eva advanced on him.

Of course Chance noticed the fierce determination with which she moved, the graceful flow of her steps, but also the tension in her shoulders. She was nervous. Nervous people make mistakes. The way she held her sword, for example – it was not completely in balance. If he parried her first blow with a slightly adjusted angle he would be able to carry out their plan in no time.

But would their plan really result in the desired outcome? Would she really see…? Or was the lesson not strong enough?

Eva attacked. Their blades collided.