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Jerry Flynn walks into the cave and sees the two men on their blankets. Kurt Angle is studying Magick in Theory and Practice by Aleister Crowley. And lip reading. The Bossman is on his third martini. And his fourth.
�We will leave at dawn,� he simply says and departs.
�What do you think will happen,� Angle asks.
�Proaly� negoshiashuns,� the Bossman replies. �I don�t really care about the damn politics. I�m just here to kick some ass.�
�I think there might be some sort of �honor battle�. Why would they get three great fighters when one man with a machine gun could twice the job.�
�Flynn wouldn�t have brought us here if there was any chance of gunplay. We�d be dead weight in that sitshuashun. I see you�ve been training on weapons. That�s a good idea, boy.�
�I know the basic theory of weapons, but I decided to pick a few up and get to know them intimately.�
�Faggot Satanist like you probably shove um� up your ass,� the Bossman jokes.
�You know what I mean,� Angle smiles. �And I�m not a Satanist. I practice ceremonial magick.�
�Whatever, boy. I see you with that circle of salt and speaking those funny languages...�
�That�s Chinese, dipshit,� Angle interrupts.
�No, asswipe. That backwards sounding crap�
�Some of our rituals involve Chirstian psalms uttered backwards in Latin.�
�Fucking Satanist.�
Angle laughs and jumps the Bossman. The two men wrestle for awhile and eventually reach a stalemate position, at which point the men separate.
�You�re the best man I�ve faced. I guess that Olympic shit actually means something,� the Bossman says.
�Who would have thought?� Angle replies as the men retire for the night.
The men wake before dawn and prepare for the journey ahead. As the sun rises, they are ready. Chun Hua enters and says, �today, we will proceed to Murgab, in the Parmir mountains. There will be talks between the Xinjiang Chinese, the Kazaks, the Buddhists, the Parmirs and the Uyghurs. There, we will undergo negotiations. When there is a disagreement, it will be decided by combat. Each faction will have four champions. Each faction is strong, but the Xinjiang Chinese have gone to great lengths to scour the Earth for the greatest fighters, and our four champions must be able to compete with them.�
�With you fighting on our side, master,� Angle says, �we will be invincible!�
�Suck up,� the Bossman whispers.
�I will not be part of the combat,� Chun Hua replies.
�Then who is the fourth champion, master?�
�I am,� booms a voice from the entrance of the cave. It is Owen Hart!
�I thought you were dead, boy,� the Bossman says.
�No, it was just an angle,� Hart replies, �like the one Vince and my brother pulled off.�
�We must leave now,� Hua says and leads the men down the mountain.
There are three jeeps waiting for them. Angle and Hart get in the back of one and Flynn and the Bossman get in the back of the other. Chun Hua and his aide get in the third, and each jeep is manned by a driver and a rifleman. The rest of the faction stays behind.
It is a long and arduous journey to Murgab. The Parmir mountains are tall and difficult to negotiate. The jeeps are in good condition and there are no major problems. They stop once to break for lunch, but other than that, it is one long trip. At Murgab, they are greeted by an Uyghur and shown to their quarters. The four champions share a room.
Kurt Angle begins his nightly ritual of cleansing the Circle. The Bossman begins his nightly ritual of choking down a couple of martinis. Jerry Flynn practices some kata, and Owen Hart begins a letter to his wife.
An hour later, the Bossman turns out the light and the men go to sleep.
The next morning, the men are led into a large room with a wooden floor. The five factions are each given an equal amount of space for their entourages. There is a large round table, at which the head of each faction sits with a translator. The negotiations begin, and the champions sit quietly as they unfold.
Suddenly, the Uyghur representative shouts at the Kazak representitivie and points to his champions. At the far end of the room, mats are laid out and the two champions face off. The two men are strikers, which Angle immediately spots as a weakness. The Uyghur starts with jabs, sticking and moving, while the Kazak resorts to leg kicks. Suddenly, the first fighter is on the floor. A kick came out of nowhere and knocked him unconscious. The fight is over, and the dispute is decided.
There is a murmur from the crowd. �That man is dangerous,� Jerry Flynn says. �I hope it will be my honor to face him. The talks continue.
Suddenly, there is another argument. Owen Hart and a Parmiri are led to the mats. Hart adopts a wrestling stance and the Parmiri puts up his fists in a boxing stance. Taking advantage of his opponent�s upright position, he dives at his legs and takes him down with a double leg take down. He twists the man�s legs in to the Sharpshooter and turns him over. He taps.
There are two more contests before Chun Hua requires another champion. Angle is selected and he is to go into battle with an ancient Chinese master. The master closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He adopts a defensive stance, and opens his hands into the grip of the swan. He begins to circle them in a figure eight and readies for combat, the same way that Chun Hua did when they first met.
When they reach the top, Chun Hua appears and emotionlessly asks, �what have you learned?�
�That there is always more than one path to your destination. And usually several,� Angle replies.
Angle approaches the old master and closes his eyes adopting a similar stance. He puts his hands in the grip of the swan and joins the master in his figure eight pattern, resisting every motion the master makes. The crowd sits in silence for half an hour, as they know they are witnessing one of the greatest conflicts any man will see. Angle is in excellent condition and the master knows that he will eventually tire. He retreats and bows, acknowledging defeat.
The negotiations are over, and there is no more reason for any more combat.
Except for fun.
Flynn approaches the Kazak and with the aid of a translator, challenges him to a fight. Without the aid of a translator, the Bossman challenges the 500 pound Uyghur delegate to a drinking contest. Both are marvelous contests which are enjoyed by all, and the Americans both come out on top, not the worse for
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