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[03- CONFRONT ] Over
the next few days, Cammy and mark spent a lot of time hanging out
Together,
going to the videogame arcade, watching one of the many winter Break
movie releases, or exploring the abandoned warehouses and office Buildings
near Cammy’s makeshift home. Cammy
even took Mark to meet Mr. Sagat, the old tomcat. Mr. Sagat immediately
took a liking to the young man and leapt up in mark’s lap, much
to Mark’s horror, as the cat had obviously just recently eaten
something
with a terribly offensive odor. 3
days after their first meeting, Mark presented Cammy with a ticket
to the Worldwide
Annual Street Fighting Tournament, a low-profile event that was held
in a different town each year. The event was an open contest, allowing
all
styles of combat, and a very loose, “anything goes” set
of rules. This year,
Baswell had secured the hosting rights, hoping that the competition
would
raise Baswell’s profile. “I
figured, since you were so good at martial arts, you might be interested
in
going to see it with me.” Mark said, trying to hide his nerves. Cammy
knew that Lord Vega used events like this one to find fighters to “recruit” into Shadoloo.
She knew that he would have operatives at the competition,
that Sagat or Barlog themselves might even be competing. Every instinct told Cammy that going
to the competition was a very bad idea. “Sure!
I’d love to go with you.” She had no idea why she said
that. Mark
grinned. “Great! It starts at 3, so I’ll meet you at the
arcade at 2 tomorrow.
How does that sound?” Cammy
told herself she should just say that she remembered something else
she had to do tomorrow, and that she had to cancel. It was just too
dangerous
to go. “Sounds
good to me.” God, she thought. I’m such a pushover… “Great!
It’s a date then!” and with that the madly grinning Mark
took off home
waving good-bye. Cammy waved after him, wondering what the hell she
was going to do. “A… date?” So
the next day, at 10 to 2, Cammy waited apprehensively outside the
arcade, wearing
pilfered clothes from some trendy chick store that went by the
name of “Bratware” or something. She was still trying
to convince herself
she should just blow off her date with Mark, and apologize later.
The
wise thing to do would be to leave town immediately, put as much distance
between her and the Street Fighter competition as possible. She kept
leaning on the wall. Just
then Mark came sprinting from around the corner, carrying a small
white
paper bag. “Sorry I’m late,” he gasped, skidding
to a halt. Cammy
couldn't help smiling at the young man, almost bent over double, trying
to catch his breath. “Wow, did you run that fast all the way
here?” she
pointed at the white bag. “What’s in the bag?” Mark
grinned, standing up. “Secret! Ready to go?” Cammy nodded,
and they
walked off at an easy pace. When
they got to the small stadium, there was a short line and they had
to wait 10 minutes to get through the gate.
Once inside, Cammy and mark saw
that most of the front rows were full. “So,
where you wanna sit?” Mark asked Cammy. Cammy thought a moment.
The front was too crowded, and the back was too empty, it’d
be hard finding a spot in the former, and
they would be too conspicuous up the
back by themselves. “How
about over there?” Cammy suggested, pointing to some seats halfway
up, near an emergency exit. Mark agreed and they went and sat down.
In the center of the stadium, although it would be more accurate to call it a large hall, two fighters were
warming up. The
first was a man with long blonde hair, tied back loosely with a long
red ribbon.
He wore a red karate Gi, with the sleeves seemingly torn off. By the
way
he moved, he seemed confident of his skills, and Cammy thought, more
than a little cocky. His
opponent was a young woman, wearing what looked like a blue jump suit,
of all things. Her brown hair was tied up in two buns on the side
of her head
in a fashion popular among Chinese sportswomen. After completing her
routine of stretches and warm up exercises, she tapped one of her
blue running
shoes on one of the springy mats that covered the stadium floor. A
referee in black and white striped clothes stepped into the center
of the ring,
a white painted circle of about 15 feet, with a 2-foot circle in the
center.
A white line bisected both circles. The
two challengers stepped up to their respective edges of the inner
circle,
and the announcer introduced them. “On
the south side, in the red, winner of several national and international
martial
arts competitions, winner of the gold medal in last year’s Olympics,
Ken
Masters!” the blonde man raised his hand, acknowledging the
cheers from
the crowd. “And
on the north side, wearing blue, champion of many Chinese and Hong
Kong
martial arts tournaments, on her first trip to America, Chun Li!”
Chun Li
continued limbering up, concentrating on the match ahead as the crowd
cheered
and wolf-whistled. “So
who do you think will win?” Mark asked Cammy. “My money’s
on Ken Masters.
He’s won tons more events all over the world, and Chun Li has
only
competed in Asia before now.” Mark opined. “The
girl,” Cammy said, after studying the two. “Chun
Li? Why do you think that?” mark queried, interested. “The
man looks like he does most of his fighting in competitions, with
structured
rules. His technique is based on scoring points, not overcoming the
opponent.” Cammy
pointed at Chun LI. “She has often had to use her skills in
life and death
situations, her skills are more honed for taking down the adversary.
With
the street fighting rules used in this tournament, the girl has the
advantage.” Mark
looked impressed. “Wow, you sure know a lot about these two.
You must
be a real fan!” Cammy
shook her head. “I have never seen or heard of them before.” At
hearing that, Mark’s eyes near popped out of his head. “Huh?
Then how do
you know all that stuff?” just then the ref blew his whistle
to signify the start
of the match, and the fight began. The
two competitors squared off, Ken moving to one side, Chin Li moving
only
slightly to keep him in her field of vision. Ken darted forward, attacking
with a flurry of punches and kicks, all of which the young woman dodged
easily, before delivering a solid kick to his chest, knocking the
breath
out of him with an audible “WHMMMF!” Ken
was doubled over, but was still quick enough to narrowly dodge Chun
Li’s
knee, as She tried to catch his jaw. Ken retaliated with a quick right
cross
that clanked of Chun Li’s cheek, staggering her slightly. Now
on the offensive,
Ken followed up with a quick succession of jabs, a few of which found
their mark. Chun
Li managed to catch one of the jabs, and using the blonde man’s
momentum against him, She flipped him over her shoulder to land firmly on
his tailbone. Ken quickly rolled out of the ay of the axe kick Chun
Li aimed squarely
at his blonde face, and sprang to his feet with considerably less
poise
than before the flip. Each
fighter once again took a moment to size up their opponent, and then
they
were back into it. They exchanged blows for another minute, Chun Li’s superior speed and agility giving her
the advantage. Suddenly, Ken knelt down
on one knee, before leaping high into the air leading with his fist,
shouting
“SHORYUKEN!” It
was a very impressive feat, but would have been better if Chun Li
hadn’t seen
it coming and ducked. While Ken was sailing up into the air Chun Li
seemed
to compact, all her muscles tensing before She, too, leapt into the
air,
her legs whipping around diagonally as She rose. The roundhouse kicks
connected, spinning the helpless blonde further into the air. “Tenshou Kyaku!” The
two landed on the mats, Chun LI landing lightly on the balls of her
feet, ken
landing on his face, knocked out. The
crowd were on their feet, cheering the victory. Chun Li simply bowed
to
the referee, then the officials, and headed back to the dressing rooms.
Some
people with a stretcher and a first aid kit ran out to the unconscious
Ken
Masters. Cammy
looked up from the small arena to the bleachers on the other side,
and
her stomach went ice-cold when She saw two men in suits She recognized,
but had not seen when She entered. The
first, and most recognizable was the giant, Sagat. A massive man,
Sagat
was heavily muscled and extremely tall. He was completely bald, and
wore
an eye patch over his right eye. Sagat was a Muay Thai champion, and
a national treasure in his homeland. Despite his grisly appearance,
Sagat
had always treated Cammy kindly, referring to her as “Little
Bumblebee”,
and had taught her much about honor and courage. Cammy respected
the giant, but also knew he was totally loyal to Lord Vega. The
second man, whilst nowhere near the size of Sagat, was considered
far more
dangerous. Barlog had a reputation for being ruthless in and out of
the
ring; reveling in the pain he caused others. Barlog was lean, muscular,
and
had a face that would not be out of place on an angel, were it not
for his
cold, merciless blue eyes. His long blonde hair was tied back in a
thick braid,
which hung down his back. The fine suit he wore was well tailored
and
obviously expensive. From his head to his shiny black shoes, Barlog
was
perfectly groomed beauty. Cammy watched as Barlog nudged Sagat and whispered something to him, gesturing. Sagat’s
expression did not change, but Barlog smiled at his own joke,
as he stroked his jaw line. Cammy’s
instincts were screaming at her to get out of there, before She was
spotted. “Mark, we need to leave here. Now.” Mark
turned to Cammy, a perplexed expression on his face. “Leave?
But we
just got here, and the next fight is about to start.” “Mark,
I’m really serious. We really need to leave NOW!” She
whispered urgently. Mark
saw the urgency in Cammy’s expressive green eyes, and decided
not to
argue the point. He nodded his assent, and She smiled gratefully. They
walked over to the exit nearby, where a bored security guard gave
them
a quick glance and proceeded to ignore them. It took every ounce of
Cammy’s
control to not bolt like a startled animal from cover, as they turned
down the short hall. As they started down the hall, Cammy took one
more
glance over her shoulder, to encounter a calculating gaze locked on
to
her from two cold, cold, blue eyes across the hall. This
was too much for the high-strung young woman, and Cammy grabbed Mark’s
wrist and began sprinting for the exit. “Come on!” She
urged him. They
burst from the hall into the cloudy Baswell mid afternoon, both panting
from the exertion, Mark almost doubled over again. “M-man..you…can
ruh-run fast,” Mark puffed. Cammy was staring apprehensively
at the exit door. Across the street, a group of youths in bomber
jackets were leaning against a wall, smoking and making delinquents
of themselves. Just then, one of the youths recognized Cammy and
Mark from the day they met, and Cammy broke the jaw of one of their
fellows. As
the gang started heading over, Cammy, oblivious to their presence,
led Mark
down a nearby alley, which, to her dismay, turned out to be a dead
end. “Damn!”
they turned to leave, Mark almost fully recovered, when the entrance
to the alley was blocked off by 10 or so burly footballers. “Well,
Simmons, you were right. It is that punk and his pet skank from the
other
day, the one who busted up Frankie’s jaw.” The burly youth
took a menacing
step forward, glaring at Cammy. “Frankie
has to eat through a straw because of you. Now the team doesn’t
have
a QB, and I think you’re the one who should pay for it, you
freaky little bitch.”
Several of the other young men stepped forward, while others blocked
the entrance to the narrow, dirty alley. Cammy
motioned the anxious Mark to stay where he was, still holding the
small
white parcel, and stepped forward, drawing her opponent’s attention
to
herself. “I really don’t have time for this,” She
moved to a relaxed combat stance.
“So let’s make it quick!” two
of the 8 or so men charged her, adolescent rage vivid on their faces.
Cammy
tensed, and sprung to the right, using the wall to jump behind them
and
take out the first with a powerful midair roundhouse kick. The assailant
spun like a top, landing hard on the ground, moaning. Landing
lightly behind the second youth, She delivered two crisp jabs into
his
ribs, which were accompanied by two audible pops, and a yelp of pain. The
rest of the sports jocks charged Cammy, some producing small knives
or
switchblades. As they rushed her, Cammy dispatched them with efficient,
professional attacks. The
last to face her was the one who had spoken earlier, the antagonism
in his
face replaced with desperation. Cammy dodged his clumsy thrust, spinning
to the side and backhanding him in the stomach. As he doubled over,
Cammy brutally smashed her knee into his jutting chin, smashing his
jaw,
and sending teeth flying around the alley like a handful of bloodied
tictacs. As
he fell, Cammy, now totally absorbed in the need to fight, leapt at
those blocking
the alley. Bodies scattered as She unleashed all her anxiety from
seeing
Barlog on the preposterously outmatched youths, delivering blow after
devastating blow. It started to become difficult to see, as blood
spattered
her face, and ran into her eyes, but even this did not slow down her
unerring instincts. “Cammy!
STOP!” The desperate voice brought her onslaught to a dead halt, her breath heaving in fast, her
body charged with adrenaline. As
She came back to herself, and looked at the ruin her bloodlust had
wreaked,
Cammy was appalled with herself. “Oh, no, nonono no…”
She turned
slowly to Mark, dreading what emotion She might see on his face. When
She looked at him, all her fears were realized, his face mirroring
the shock
and terror that was on her own. “Cammy…” What
have I done? She thought to herself. She couldn’t bear to see
that look
in the eyes of the only friend She had ever had. Tears began to well
up and
her throat contracted, making it hard to breathe or swallow. I cant’
bear it! “I…”
Cammy gulped in a big breath of air, and looked away from Mark, unable
to endure the horror in his eyes any more. “Mark, I…”
her chest feeling
like it was about to cave in, Cammy did something She had never done before. She
turned and fled in despair. “I’m sorry!” |
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