November 19, 1999

Ryu felt mixed impressions as he scanned the villa which was supposed to belong to the feared Spanish assassin known as Vega.

At first glance it was beautiful. Fine tiles littered the floor, marble collumns, crafted perfectly, supported the white-washed ceiling from which great lights were hanging. Portraits of fine, calming scenery were hung on every wall, adding to the overall impression of purity the place held. All of this was enhanced by the many curtains, chairs, tables and other sort of decoration and furniture which denoted more than just a little wealth. All was classic refinement, something even Ryu, a nomadic man, could appreciate. At first glance, it reminded him of Ken's immense mansion in Seattle.

But as he advanced into the silent hallway, he quickly found that once past that first impression, the differences were immense. In Ken's house, there was always some kind of activity, o0r a feeling of activity, even in an empty room, along with a soft impression of caring, love and friendship which he enjoyed when he visited at odd times. Vega's mansion, for its part, only felt cold and deadly, clinical, and the only thing that permated the place was a touch of mad passion.

But then again Ken was a loving father and husband, and despite an irritating reckless streak a very honorable and decent man. Vega, from the rumours he had heard - and those abounded - was a cold man who took his only real pleasure from torturing people, whether physically or mentally.

Shaking himself out of the depressed state he was starting to fall in, the wandering warrior chided himself for the lapse of control and resumed his search. Not that it was especially hard. His life of meditation and chi-use had made his senses well-attuned to the energies released by others much like him. He could feel something, something desperate, in the chi which travelled the place. It guided him to an alcove, which had two statues of a maiden on each side.

"So, I gather that you are arrived at the alcove." came a voice that sounded like Everick's. Ryu immediately swiveled around, shifting to a fighting stance without a moment of hesitation. He scanned the surrounding area and found no one, much to his surprise. However, the cold voice sounded again, startling him despite himself.

"Do not worry, Hoshi." the voice said "It is only I, Everick."

"Where are you?" the nomad queried, although he had a certain idea already.

"Still where we parted, warrior. However my powers will help you go through this place." was the short explanation. "Here my knowledge will help you. The statue on the right...push her left eye, then inverse the gesture for the other."

He didn't even take the time to second-guess the information, instead moving to each of the finely-crafted statues, pushing the mentioned eye of the right statue and then of the left statue, very quickly. Immediately the curved wall of the alcove opened, revealing stairs wjich descended into a well-lit corridor. Ryu arched his eyebrows in bemused wonder at the soundless efficacity of the system.

Everick seemed to have picked up that thought, for he deapanned. "Vega was always one for stealth, and so he took this door-opening hydraulics technology. It is widely used in Shadowlaw and other organizations related to the underworld." The voice didn't change one bit, but there was a feeling of amusement to it now.

"I suppose that means Vega is as vain as the rumours go then, hmm?"

"More. But let us not waste time on the rumours. You have a meeting with the man."

Ryu nodded, and slowly descended the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. He knew assassins, had encountered quite a few in his many travels, and had heard many things, one of which was their keen senses, especially of hearing. Ken had once theorized it probably was this, mixed with a feral, predatory sense that they possessed, that made them stealthy themselves, aside from training.

He wasn't sure if Ken's idea was true, but what he knew for certain was that he needed to make as slight a noise as possible, so that he didn't attract attention. Not that he didn't think he could fight in so close quarters - fighting was always adapting to the circumstances - but he needed to see this woman and her condition before he tried anything. Attacking someone in his own home wasn't something he relished, and if there was no woman he would fight only to leave. He knew Vega's reputation but wished not to attack someone who hasn't done a wrong that he could see or feel.

"Questionning yourself and you intentions like this will not help you if you have to fight Vega. He is no match for you, but if your mind is not clear he could wound you, perhaps gravely." came Everick's voice in his head.

"Perhaps, Shadow Walker, but that is the way I live my life." he thought back "To attack without reason is against my personal philosophy. Don't be worried. All doubts will leave me the moment I see this woman you talked me about."

"I do hope so. The door is at the end of the corridor. It will be a drain, but I will unlock it from this distance using my powers. But besides this, you will be largely on your own, at least until you can join me in the grove." and the tingling went away, indicating that his presence was gone. Ryu didn't mourn its loss, for he had felt more than a little uncomfortable having someone roaming around in his head.

He walked to the plain steel door, careful as ever, and as he came close cautiously, he felt his senses awaken fully, and knew that Everick was exerting his will upon the locked obstacle in his path. He waited, until finally he detected a slight click. Immediately the presence receded.

"Good luck." the voice whispered.

Knowing the man on the other side couldn't have helped but hear the subtle sound of the lock disengaging, Ryu quickly went and opened the door wide, stepping inside willfully, his eyes taking over the scene quickly, knowing that what he would find would define the actions he would undertake from there on in.

The room he found himself in was rather small, all in grey stone, and ressembled nothing short than an old medieval torture chambers Ken had once showed him from an Europe history book. Instruments of pain and death hung on the walls, at one place chains were imbedded in the rock.

The smell of blood, sweat and urine came to his nose, wrinkling it automatically, in utter disgust, as he surveyed the central part of the room. His eyes focused there.

And narrowed as they took in the scene.

In the middle of the room was a sturdy table, on which lay a woman who matched the exact description he had been given both from Guile and Everick. She lay on it, naked, healing bruises on her body, her eyes so vacant he was hurt just looking at her. The light was gone from them, along as any sign of recognition. She didn't even turn her head as he entered, obviously gone into another world.

But that wasn't the case with the man who had been bending over her, for he swung around and glared at Ryu, his eyes reflecting surprise, anger and some sort of annoyance that seemed to mean his fun had been taken. He recognized the man instantly, recognized it from the stories and descriptions. The blond hair, the lithe, well-muscled body, the maddened gleam.

Vega.

"¿El infierno, quién el @#%$ es usted?!?" the man snarled in Spanish, his eyes drilling daggers into his inopportune visitor. Ryu knew little spanish, but could tell what he was being told from the tone and the word '@#%$'. Vega was angry.

Fine by him! He wasn't the only one! The sight of the woman utterly gone, shut inside of herself had awakened a rage he was barely keeping aside. His heart screamed for violent retaliation, but his will and instinct calmed him, so that he answered his opponent quietly, the anger only showing in his eyes.

"My named is Ryu Hoshi." he said in near-perfect English "And I am here to stop that which you have done to this woman. I would challenge you but one such as you does not deserve a formal challenge." And with that, Ryu took on his fighting stance, all doubts gone, delving into the cold logic of battle, the thrill of the fight, as he looked at the angered assassin icily. "You move." he grated. And with that, the battle began.

Around the same time...

"I was someone else then." a soft voice uttered. Had people in Pontianak looked about to see who had spoken, they would never had found him, only an impression of movement between the shadows, and then nothing. None of them would have known that they had come closer to their deaths than they probably would for the rest of their lives. No one who spotted a creature of the night in a mission lived to tell of it.

Especially when the person in question was the Hunter.

He traveled the night in mostly silent rememberance, the port - wet, smally, filled with Indonesians, so much that hadn't changed at all - had struck a chord in his memory, one that he rarely visited, for it brought him nothing but pain, anger and bitterness. He usually didn't go forth into memory lane, but the night was too heavy with past dreams and shattered hope, and he delved into it.

"Geki," he thought, the name laced with disdain and hatred, "You remembered who I was, didn't you? Yes, I can tell that you did - who else would know, in all this wide world, the only place which could make me loose my self, my prudence. Even now as I approach the designated building, wondering yet what would happen, I can't help but to keep thinking about what was. What could have been."

His black-gloved hands clenched for an instant, and a flash of anger crossed the eyes behind the mask. "What you did." he spat.

He took to the backstreets as if they were his home, and he could seriously have said it was. Nevermind the fortunes he had accumulated, the technology he had purchased to carry his crusade, the street had always been the place where he had existed. The distrust, the danger, the despair and the fighting, with people of the underworld milling about, this was the dark heart which had adopted and fed him, when everything had collapsed because... of Him.

It was thus with the ease of a pedestrian that he settled himself there, moving unseen amongst downtrodden and nasty masses of people. He didn't care that he would be discovered here. Certainly, his mask would attract attention, but Pontiamak underworlders always preffered to mind their own business, preffering their neutrality to anything else. He understood them quite well.

"After all," he reflected silently. "I was just like them once."

Things had changed since then, of course. He had always had a goal, and that goal had allowed him to prosper despite all odds, and to carry on the only thing that gave his life any kind of meaning at all.

The Crusade.

His self-imposed mission to eradicate the Shinobi from the face of the Earth, a task for which he was ready for anything and would make any kind of sacrifices. They, after all, were a filth who hid their grotesque horror behind a show of honor, a clan of murderers who killed without distinction. It was an unrealistic task, one that would have daunted many, but the Hunter rose to the challenge, and the possibility of fighting back, on the ninja's own terms.

On Geki's terms.

He finally found the building where he was supposed to be lured and killed by his understandably-angered enemies. Another the pang of rememberance as he looked at it. Made of grey bricks, mortar crumbling, five stories high and long-abandoned, it was an image he remembered well. And why should he not? After all, this was where the one he had been had ceased to exist, becoming nameless. Before the Hunter appeared to right the wrong his enemies had done.

He climbed it, not daring to use the stairs inside or outside, knowing quite well that if an ambush was being prepared that it would be trapped. No matter, circumventing such matter was one of his specialties. The mortal had crumbled in many places, such that an agile, skilled man could easily climb.

Looking around to make dure no one would attack him while he started on his endeavour, he found handhold and pulled himself up, soon finding ones for his feet out of instinct, and on he was, always climbing, his pace increasing. underneath his garnments his arms were solidly- muscled, such that he felt no strain as he climbed, carefully avoiding any windows just in case - it never hurt to be careful, especially with the kind of enemies he had.

"The same city...the same place... You must have found out who I was, old man!" he muttered to himself as he climbed. Behind the mask, he smirked slightly. "And why not? You of all people know the atrocity you have commited, and the revenge that would come to you and yours."

He reached the summit of the human-built mountain at last, heaving himself up with a slight effort and landing squarely on his feet, his knees flexing, his poise ready to dodge or defend. Nothing moved, not a sould stirred. The roof was utterly deserted. Obviously the ambush wasn't ready just yet. That was very good. He would prepare a surprise for those who would come.

He looked around the empty place, nodding as if the scene was being played as clearly as it had fifteen years ago.

'Please, no, you don't understand!'

'Mercy is for the weak. Die with some self-dignity!'

'No! Please ngahhhh! ARRRGGGHH!'

"No!" he shouted angrily, at himself, at the memory, at the one who had caused it. "This will not end there. YOU will beg for your life, Geki! You and all the Shinobi will!" he shouted, loosing himself in his anger.

"Do you know speaking to oneself can be very unsettling to others, Hunter-sama?" grated a youthful voice.

Cursing himself for his lack of care and control, the Hunter whipped about, just in time to receive a slender but powerful foot in the stomach. He flew backward, landing hard, with a soft groan. But he knew the damage had been minimal at once, even as he flipped abckward and landed in a fighting stance.

Ten feet in front of him, in an equally tense stance, was a shinobi. Very athletic, she was slight, and from the voice he had heard and telltales in the posture, he knew she was young. Young but stealthy and possessed of an aura much stronger than that of any ninja he had ever faced. In fact, he had only ever seen comparable strength in only one.

Suddenly it became clear whom he was facing. Of course! Her name was becoming increasingly important in the Underworld. After all, she had supposedly played a role in the destruction of the feared Circle Lord Kale, the brother of Bison.

"Well," he whispered "Ibuki herself. I am honored the Shinobi Clan finds me to be such a... problem."

Increased tension came to his younger opponent. "I am Ibuki. But if it is honor you are looking for you won't find it here, Hunter! I will get revenge for those you killed in my clan!" she hissed.

He shook his head slightly. "No, I doubt you will truly be able to do it. To make such a deed valid you would have to kill me, and I WILL NOT die until I have finally hurt Geki enough so that he will face me in battle."

The one in front of him might not have heard him, for all the indication she gave. She only put half a step less between the two of them. He tensed. The battle was about to begin, that girl was nothing but a spring ready to be sprung. The time to talk was now over. It was time for the Hunter to fight again, to crush his enemy.

Indeed, if he killed that one, it might be enough to bring the Old Man out himself...

He nodded to the ninja in front of him. "Very well. Are you prepared to die, little one? Are you prepared to be the next victim of my Holy Crusade?" he put as much contempt in his voice as he could, and felt anger flare in his opponent. Yes, the battle was under way now. There was no going back.

And then, more swiftly than he had given her credit for, the young girl lunged at him, her hands hardened to knives, her eyes pointed and hateful, yet cold.

And he lunged in kind. Finally, a challenge, yes. She wasn't like the others.

He had been waiting for that kind of fight for a long, long time.

Around the same time...

Vega kicked at Ryu in one sift motion, making him take several steps backward. The shotokan warrior gritted his teeth as he took one step too many and slammed into the stone wall behind him, the back of his head scrapping painfully against the hard-edged surface. He didn't cry out, however, for he had long learned to seperate pain from counsciousness, at least as long as a battle was on. That was why, unlike many others he didn't look one little bit unfocused when his eyes returned to his opponent.

That was just as well, for at that very moment Vega was heaving his clawed hand directly at at his face.

He ducked just in time, feeling the whistling of metal just over his head, followed by loud cracking sound and stony bits. He didn't lose the precious advantage his narrow escape had given him. Vega had left his defense opened while he attacked, a very temporary situation only a fool would let pass.

Ryu was no fool.

His fist lashed out, burrying itself into the man's muscled torso. There was an 'huff' from above, both the karate warrior barely heard it, adding another punch, then another, then another, until his enemy tried to back out and redeploy his defenses. But just as the blond man stepped away, Ryu stepped aside quicker than a snake and struck his opponent a powerful kick to the side of the face. Vega went rolling on the ground.

He didn't roll enough, however, for him to prusue his devastating offensive. A jerk, a shift of weight, and then the Spanish ninja was back on his feet, his poise graceful and catlike. And deadly. If it hadn't been for the red marks on the man's abdomen, and the slight blink of his left eye, Ryu could have sworn he'd never hit him.

As angry and disgusted by the man as he was, the wandering warrior couldn't help but feel a certain admiration when faced with such a person. Men of this caliber were rare, and always were a chanllenge. It excited him to face people who wouldn't go down in twenty seconds, opponents who actually had a chance of defeating him.

Then he remembered the young woman, just lying there naked, staring at them with an undeciferable expression. How utterly frightening. From what that army captain, Guile, ahad told him, that woman was a world warrior as well, and a tough and spunky one at that. What had Vega done to her to make her into that silent, shade-like figure who had locked her great aura away, where he could barely feel it? He suddenly wished he hadn't asked that question, for he knew he wouldn't like that answer.

He attacked next, stepping to his opponent quickly and delivering a combo of punches and kicks, none passing through. This battle was harder than it should be, the lack of space preventing his own greater moves and giving him no advantage beyond his skills. Just as well, really. He didn't need or want advantages. He'd work his own. Such was the way a warrior fought in life.

Still, he felt he still had some sort of edge over the assassin. Yes, the man had tremendous skills and uncanny speed and agility, but Ryu had stores of those of his own, and he felt an important fact: Vega was blinded by bloodlust now, and he was not.

He saw it in the way the ninja moved, the way his eyes fixed on him with an intensity that came from obsession. He thought he understood the cause: that he had entered his abode, his home, like a thief and came to challenge him where he felt trhe most secure. But it seem to go beyond that, beyond anger. There was death in the man's eyes. Death after long moments of suffering at his hands.

Truly, this man was mad.

Vega jumped in the air at him, flipping and readying his claw to strike, probably intending to rend his head into three pieces. The wandering warrior couldn't help but smirk slightly, as he gathered chi in his arm, gauging position, waiting for the ninja to be nearer. Descend, descend... just a little more. The blades were whistling just above his head. His death was coming within moments.

NOW.

He heaved upward, swinging his fist along with his own strength augmented by his chi, his arm aflame with a thing blue flame.

"SHO-RYU-KEN!!!"

His fist caught his enemy squarely in the chin, snapping him completely forward, slamminjg him into a wall full of instruments of torture, including some really big and really mean-looking bladed things that he did not know and had no wish to identify. Even knowing what the man had done, even as angry as he felt towards the horrors this madman must have visited upon the silent woman, Ryu couldn't help but wince a bit as the assassin screamed as many instruments cut into him.

But the Spanish wasn't down yet, roaring with the pain as he was. He lurched to his feet in a more jerkish manner than he had done for the rest of the fight, staring at him the way an executioner would face his criminal. Ryu prepared himself for the final showdown. He felt his enemy's chi rise, and started to delve into himself quickly, gathering the strength and the energy into his arms, then forced his hands together, feeling the ying and the yang of his soul flare there, creating a ball of energy, which started to grow as he willed it too.

Vega's arm, the left one, which hadn't been damaged or cut in his last fall, started to glow red, and the man started to tense, his jaw clenching at the taxation his battered body was going throught. The energy went higher and higher, until the air seemed to fairly crackle with it. Ryu started to worry. In the open field, such a clash of chi would be cataclysmic as it was. Here in a closed room? It could be incredibly deadly.

But looking into the eyes of Vega, the Shotokan Karate master decided that if he didn't do this, he was certain of dying anyway. Thus, he concentrated his own chi, matching Vega, drawing more and more until he felt the drain sharply. He gritted his teeth as hard as he could. This was going to be painful!

Suddenly Vega jerked back his arm, and in response Ryu started to surge his hands forward, calling upon his attack the moment he felt his enemy's chi explode as the assassin's arm swung towards him.

"RED CLAW!"

"SHIN HADOUKEN!"

The great ball of pale blue fire and the line of crimson screamed towards each other, and the point of contact was an explosion that sent Ryu crashing into the wall once again, he fell to his knees, panting, but quickly came back on his feet as he felt the walls crumbling around him. It may just have been an impression, but he found he couldn't take the chance at all.

He spotted the woman, naked, staring at him with an eerily calm eye. She was the one he had come for, and so ran to her, sweeping her utterly unresisting form in his arms, knowing Vega might still be beyond the dust which choked the place now. He didn't wait to find out - the man was a madman, and even he had limits when it came to helping people. Murderers and rapists were people he would never try to help.

He ran out of the room, into the cracking tunnel, and nearly burst out the alcove in the villa, were there was no tremors. At once he sent the lady down, and stared at her quickly to see if she hadn't been hurt by the explosion and bumby ride. Trying to ignore the fact that this Chunli was shapely and exceeedinly attractive, he managed a cursory examination and sighed in relief. Only old wounds, and those were healing. She would be alright eventually.

Then Chunli moved her hand and tapped him lightly on the nose, then started to giggle, louder and louder, until she howled with laughter, her eyes still strangely calm, her naked body shivering. The scene caused the warrior to revise his opinion. Her BODY would be fine. Her MIND would take a while.

He groaned, then tried to smile at her, which had the effect of effectively shutting her up. It seemed they weren't out of the mess with her. Who knew what Vega had done to her, and the effects it had had. Still, he had promised to look after her until she felt better, and that was what he'd do.

And so, he pushed her lightly in front of him, going hunting for some clothes to put on her before going to see if the Shadow Walker still hung about in the grove.

But still, for all his promises, he couldn't suppress a thought as he saw the woman giggle again for no reason.

"Why ME?!?"

Around the same time...

Ibuki hadn't been certain that attacking the Hunter head-on, without the help of any back-up, was such a wise idea to begin with. If it had been but a few moths ago she wouldn't have hesitating a second in whacking anyone with such a ludicrous idea. However the few months had changed things. They had shown she and her clan that they had an enemy who held not a shred of respect for the Shinobi, and there was no way she was about to let it slide like this.

However, as she narrowly dodged another blow from her opponent, she felt she could whack herself for outright stupidity.

She had thought the Hunter as some kind of maniac who used booby-traps to kill his victims - a theory which seemed to be supported by the way the victims - fellow ninjas, some that she had known as comrades - had been killed. So certain was she that she never considered him a real threat if she could only take him on directly. She had let her anger and confidence take the best of her judgement.

That was mistake.

The man in fron of her was swift, his attacks and poise denoting a very high level of training with very complex combos and techniques as well. His aura had been only sommering when she'd kicked him at the beginning, but now it had risen high, beyond the norm quite squarely. This was no enemy who would go down lightly.

But by all the heavens, he WOULD fall!

She somersaulted to avoid a kick, shifting so that she kicked the floor with her feet, propelling her into the air, where she flipped and kanded just behind her opponent, who was already whirling about, his defence still up. He cut her knee-kick with one hand, retaliated by lashing out at her face with his free hand, and she manage to grab the hand only two inches from her face. Both struggled against the other, the man's greater strength offset by the chi which Ibuki allowed to flow into her body.

At last they broke up, both bouncing away. As soon as she was clear, the young Shinobi whipped out three kunai which she launched with deadly precision. However the Hunter must have seen the gesture, for he tore a large part of the metallic panes covering the ceiling and used it to protect himself just in time. Silence fell for a moment.

And then the Hunter chuckled softly.

"Magnificient." he breathed "Yes, magnificient. I haven't seen a ninja fight this well against me in a long time."

She glared tightly at her opponent, her fists clenched. "I've no wish to make you happy, Hunter. I only want to make you suffer!"

"Oh, would you really?" was his whispered answer, and she denoted a very strange accent in it, something she couldn't truly define. And then the smugness appeared again. "I really think you aren't going to achieve that just now! I want Geki, not his grand-daughter."

The smug assurance of the man in his own invincibilty that Ibuki detected, compounded by the fact this... BUTCHER... had just like that told her that she was unworthy to face him in battle, made her blood boil, and for a long moment she saw red, taking a step forward. Sense came back to her just as quickly however, and her ingrained training and her will forced the rage down to manageble levels. Still, it didn't stop the fact that her desire to kill the man had burst beyond her already very pressant need.

She attacked him, using her light weight and greater speed to go under his guard, squeezing behind his raised arms and shoving her elbow as hard as she could into his face. He grunted in pain clutching his face, and that moment allowed her to gather her chi into her hand, until a greenish hue appeared there. When it had coalesced sufficiently, she let it fly at her opponent's chest with all the will she could muster.

"RAIDA!"

It hit the Hunter squaredly, and her gasped, driven backward to fall unceremoniously on his behind. He put his hands on his chest, seemingly gasping for breath, and knowing she could finish it now once and for all, Ibuki lunged at him, uncharacteristically letting out a yell. A part of her screamed at her to stop, that the man seemed to be suffering too much pain for a simple raida attck, but in that instant her desire for vengeance overwhelmed her.

And as she came at him for the kill, the Hunter suddenly sprang to his feet, revealing a fist glowing with energy much the same colour as hers. A fraction of a second she saw his laughing eyes on her, and then all that she noticed was the fist that swung at her, releasing its energy right into her face.

"RAIDA!"

She had seen the attack only a fraction of second in advance, and so her arms didn't come up in time to block the energy ball. Her head was snapped backward in an haze of pain, a scream escaping her mouth, her eyes blinded by the force of the blow. Her senses scattered for that moment, she fell hard on her back, and only shakily began to get up on her own, her hands pawing the roof structure, panting. She heard the hoarse breathing from her opponent, and took some slight comfort in knowing that she had weakened him as well. But he was standing.

She was kneeling and blinded. There were no two ways of seeing this. It was all over.

She was thus very surprised when, instead of attacking, the fearsome Hunter started speaking to her again.

"You have much promise." he gasped, then added in a mirthful, tired tone "Bet I surprised you with that little return-fire, eh, shinobi?"

Surprise, in fact, didn't even come close to telling her feeling. It was more like a sort of numb amazement. The Raida was a technique taught only from Shinobi Masters to Shinobi Students - it was impossible from him to have control of the technique in such a way. Unless, of course... But no, it couldn't be... it just couldn't!

She was starting to see again, even though her vision was still a little fuzzy from the hit she had received. She saw that Hunter only ten steps from her, folding his arms, as if in deep thought. What an utterly strange man, to kill some without giving them a chance to fight back, and then wait for another to carry on the fight. It was a very peculiar, very twisted sense of honor that she ever saw.

"Kian thought I was right you know. Thats why Geki killed him."

She suddenly found the strength to stand up, she didn't know how, the pain was receding, repalced by utter anger at the blasphemy the man befoire her had dared utter. Kian, her father, whom had died when she had been just a child, her father whom her grandfather always mourned. How dare this MURDERER suggest that her own grandfather...that he had...

She moved on him, she didn't know how, her hurt vanished and her vision suddenly keener than it had been even at the beginning of the fight. She struck at the Hunter with a yell, but he seemed to be able to hold his own, blocking and lashing out with a punch there, a kick there. She didn't feel any of them, but finally managed to restrain her anger enough to see what she was doing, and to analyse her actions. She broke the fight abdruptly, after sending a kick which sent her enemy down, gasping for breath.

"You lie, Hunter." she spat "A murderer trapped and spewing venom to escape is nothing but a rabble."

"Not...hff...always." he gasped "And I do not lie. Ask...hhhn...Geki that he tell you what happened to Kian, and you'll see."

"LIES!" she roared, and she charged him again, this time intending to end it not matter what it took.

But he quickly took something from an hidden pocket and threw it near her, causing her to step back as foul fumes flared upward. She blinking, coughing, but she couldn't see anything with the added toll to her wounded eyes. Gritting her teeth, she lept to the other side of the yellowish smoke, ready to defend if he attacked her while unprepared.

But there was no one there. No one but the wind, and new questions that had been keenly placed in her mind by a few confident, whispered words that put many things she thought rock-solid into question.

"Lies." she said once more.

But in her heart, she felt strangely hollow all of a sudden.

Three days later...

"Hffff...hfffg...g-guys....would you...hfff...would you wait up!?!"

"We're going slowly, Nate! Just keep up, it'll do those legs of yours a whole lot of good, honest!"

"Slow for YOU means AWFULLY fast to ME!"

Nate saw that his small argument wasn't registering with the three men in front of him, running more than jogging down the streets, not seeming to get winded. He wasn't surprised. After all, these three were what the underworld called 'World Warriors, people with greater strength, speed, stamina and skill than the average man. The problem was that although Nathan ate with, talkked with, and did just about anything else with a woman whose robotic arm allowed her to enter that category, he knew more than anyone else that he for one was a normal man.

An brilliant man, but normal nonetheless. He realized suddenly, however, that it had been stupid to join these three on a little jogging trip, even though his leg was finally healed enough to take it.

But he had wanted to know what William Guile had to say to his friends. He'd come suddenly at the Storms' doorstep and told Jeremy that he had grave news to talk about. His friend's interest had of course been piqued, and soon he'd whipped up this little sortie to talk about it all far from prying eyes.

After a while the three - with an angrily puffing and gasping Nate, reached a small grove of threes next to what truly appeared to be a quaint, ordinary park where everyday englishmen and englishwomen walked, took their children too, or just relaxed from a very stressful day. Exactly the type of place he wanted to be in at the moment, but it wasn't the idea Jer had in mind. He was telling Guile that the place was his usual training ground, and that if any place ought to be safe, it would be there. Guile seemed to agree and that ox, Alex, only seemed to enjoy the adventure.

Finally, just when he was starting to think his legs were going to give out below him or that his lungs would burst, they emerged into a small clearing, slowed, and finally stopped. Not caring very much for his dignity at that moment, he immediately chose a fallen three trunk - there seemed to be a few of those lying around, most probably the victims of Jeremy's training - sat down heavily and waited for his overwrought system to regain a semblance of normalcy.

'Look at them' he thought sullenly 'Standing there, barely breathing harder than when they'd started to run this mad race. Its clear they don't know what it is to...'

He stopped himself short when he realized where his frame of thoughts were going, shaking his head slowly with a passing smile which's scornful edge was driven at himself. Self-hatred placed on others. Again. He had to stop this healthy trend, and he usually subdued it, no small thanks to Area's loving support, but sometimes it just resurfaced for short amounts of time. But he refused to let it hinder him this time. Heaving a deep breath to steady himself, he looked at his two friends, but especially the soldier Guile, of whom he had seen and heard little.

"'kay, 'kay. I'm sorry to be the one to burst the balloon of this magnificient" and there he couldn't help but spit the word a little "jogging spree, but what brings you to England thats so bad you couldn't warn Jer?"

Jeremy nodded. "I was wondering the same thing." And Alex gave his own assent a mere moment later. Guile looked at them all in turn, then sighed, passing an hand throught his brush-looking blond hair, tiring by at least five years for a few seconds.

"It all started by this recon I was doing. You know, the usual airforce defensive surveys. However, that one time, my squadron and I..."

And he started to explain to them the strange, immense craft that he and his people had seen, the fact that it ignored them, and that the general of the base had ordered them to abandon any kind of action against the queer structure. He told them in great detail of his arguments against the general, the fact that he was shot down and told to keep his mouth shut. Which he hadn't done, rather trying to find out anything he could about the craft. His find of a connection with the shadowy, secretive but powerful organization known as White Arms.

And the fact that only a strange phone call had saved him from assassination. An action which had spurred him to recruit trustworthy people to work with him in trying to find out the depth of the corruption in the United States.

"Now I know I can't ask you to just drop everything and help me. " he finished, his voice tired but firm. "And in fact I won't even think of doing it. I just wnat to see if some of you would like to help me in certain ways, by providing information or the like."

Silence ensued as Nathan, Jeremy and Alex thoughtfully digested this information. At length Alex spoke, flexing and unflexing his great hands.

"I heard some stuff about White Arms." he noted slowly, his eyes somewhat wary "Its rumoured to be big, wealthy and by that, feared a lot around the globe."

"Thats true." Jeremy nodded, his grey eyes bright and clear, deep down into thinking mode "Julia had a few scraps with them, and she's mightily impressed - and THAT is a feat, believe me! She told me they were very technologically-advanced, perhaps more than even the SCD or the American Grey Panthers Army. They're fanatical in following their goals, and because of that they rarely really fail at anything. Thats about all I know."

Alex crossed his arms. "Thats an awfully big thing to take on, guys. Its not like a few peeps can beat them."

"That's not the problem." Guile said gravely.

There was something in his tone that made some alarm bells ring inside Nathan's head. A touch of fear in a man who was said by Jeremy - a very reliable source - to be as fearless as any man he'd ever met. And it wasn't just the fear, it was the unease with which he said this, too. It was very unnerving.

"I'm definitely not going to like what you'll say." he groaned, putting an hand to his forehead.

Guile seemed to ground his teeth in indecision at that, but finally seemed to think it bes tto simply plunge deep and see if there's a bottom somewhere. "You're right, you won't, for I've heard... I've heard rumours that White Arms is starting to gather up people with gifts - fighters, seers, assassins, those people who have something beyond the norm, or people who're just feared by the general public."

Jeremy arched an eyebrow. Obviously this was something even the SCD Elite didn't know about. Whether it was a cause for panic or not was open to debate.

"Did you learn what they do to those people they...round up?"

A shake of the head. "Nope. I'm just as much in the dark about it as the rest of you, and I don't think it'd be wise to stretch my luck more with any contacts." a pause "I CAN tell you this, however: if these people are only half like the ones I have found described, what they'll do in the end's not going to be present."

Talk about giving someone good arguments as to how one SHOULDN'T get into this mess. He suddenly wished he had followed Claudia when she'd dragged out Cammy and Area to do some shopping. Clothes and trinkets were dull things to look at, but at least they didn't have the feel of danger around them. Still, Nathan McIntyre, for all of his faults, wasn't a coward, and never really considered backing out of whatever deal would be made in this clearing.

"Assuming we help you..." he said hesitantly and Guile looked at him seriously. "Where to start looking for those clues to help us?"

The army man shifted from one foot to the other, scanning the ground with an intensity that probably almost made it melt. Several seconds passed, and they all heard Alex shift and cough lightly. But at last the major looked up and seemed to face all three of them at once, a small smile upon his lips.

"We go to the one man I know who can help us and is unrelated to any organization." he said solemnly.

"And who's that?" Alex asked curiously.

"The kind of man who'll help you only if you help in, but is still the best hacker aside from Mark Culhen, and a very great warrior, although he's bound to hide from you until he needs to show it."

"Thats all good, but what's the name of the guy?" Nathan demanded a bit impatiently.

"Adam Winters."