Street Fighter 2
Chapter 17
Several hours later, on a 747 bound for Los Angeles, Cammy sat
in the first class seats, specially arranged, with General
McGruder and Charlie.
Her day off back in Hong Kong had been one of enjoyment, but that
didn't make her feel any better. She understood what Chun Li was
going through, having to cover up and lie to protect someone who
she cared for. Ryu was not allowed to know about Bison's
resurrection, for fear of his safety. However, Chun Li looked as
if she was dying to tell him.
Cammy remembered a line from a Billy Connolly video she once
watched. "Women could easily keep secrets, if they
wanted to, but they don't seem to want to."
That was partly true. If you were an untrained, ordinary woman
living in a nine-to-five job, then keeping secrets was a hard
thing to do, you would say "Don't tell anyone I told you
this…." just to stop the boredom. However, when you are
an Interpol detective, or an MI6 agent for that matter, you were
trained to keep secrets as much as possible, otherwise you'd end
up with something much worse than a lost friendship. So no matter
how much Chun Li wanted to warn Ryu, her training, and her work,
stopped her from doing so.
The jet took off from the airport on its five-hour long journey
to Los Angeles. From there, Guile would pick them up and take
them to El Toro.
Her conversation with Guile had informed her that Juli and Juni,
two of Bison's most dangerous assassins, were finally captured.
After the fight that had happened in Ken's home, they woke up in
exactly the same way as Cammy, with no memory of their past lives.
Since Cammy was the most qualified, after all, she had
experienced it herself, she would have to do to them what Chun Li
did to her, namely, to try and regain the human part of their
lives back. The other major reason was to see if they could state
the whereabouts of Bison's headquarters, but the chances of that
happening were minimal.
The plane was due to land in the morning, Los Angeles time. So
she promptly fell asleep as the plane took off, to make sure she
wasn't so tired when she interviewed the two girls.
They arrived five and a half hours later, due to the fact that
the plane was delayed by air traffic. As soon as they left
customs, they were greeted by Colonel Guile, and taken to El Toro.
Meanwhile, in Hong Kong, where it was still dark, the two
original Lords of Shadowloo had managed to make their way into
Hong Kong without being stopped for customs.
In this city, the stench of Shadowloo's crime syndicate had found
its way into the streets. Even the local Triads could do nothing
to stop Bison's expansion into the Hong Kong sector.
When Shadowloo had started, it had managed to take over an
overwhelming proportion of all the drugs that circulated round
the city. Before them, the junkies normally took what they needed,
and if they couldn't pay for it, they simply attacked someone for
the money, or they didn't get any. Suddenly, instead of the usual
oriental triad members who were pushing the drugs, white and
black men started to push them instead. This time, they would
force people to take the drugs instead of just waiting for them
to pay up before they handed them over. Though they took what was
offered, the junkies looked like they wished they would go away.
Violence was an expected and understood part of their daily lives.
Outsiders were not.
Balrog knew it well, he was one of the first people involved in
the takeover of the Hong Kong crime rate, after his expulsion
from the ring of boxing.
However, there was so little else to do that Balrog, with
permission from his lord Bison, organized a prostitution ring.
They were protected by Shadowloo's own men, plus some of the
junkies who were threatened if they didn't cooperate. Local girls
who had gone into a life of drug-taking came for what was
supposed to be an English language course and stayed for an
infusion of currency, both domestic and foreign. That was where
Balrog had met Vega, his future partner-in-crime.
Vega helped to recruit new 'language students' for Balrog's
brothels, while Bison's soldiers found different ways of getting
girls to work for them – including kidnapping them. Except
for this sideline, Balrog found Hong Kong a bore. It was too soft,
too restrictive. As he'd learned from his years of growing up,
becoming a world-class boxer, then become a crime lord because of
his greed, there was only one rule that mattered to him.
Did some son of a bitch deserve a bullet to the head? If so, pull
the trigger and go home. If not, what the hell where you doing
there?
Balrog took a last swallow of the coffee and pushed the heavy mug
back along the hotel bedroom's desk. The coffee was good, black
and bitter, the way he always drank it. It made him feel
energized, ready to act. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, here and
now, where there was nothing to act against. But he liked the
feeling anyway.
He looked at his watch. Where the hell is he?
Vega said he would be back in an hour's time, about 4 o'clock in
the morning. How long did it take to make a phone call to Bison,
telling him that they had arrived?
The answer was that it took as long as Vega needed it to take.
Balrog fished a graham cracker from an open box and snapped at it
impatiently. The taste, the crispness, brought him back to his
boxing training back in Las Vegas. He lived on these things there.
As the tall, powerfully built Balrog brushed crumbs from his
faded blue jeans, he glanced at the oversized duffel bag lying
next to Vega's bed. He was babysitting Vega's weapons. A shinken,
a razor-sharp 'live' blade made in the traditional Japanese
way, used in the martial art called Iaido, an Iaito, a
type of practice sword made as a stainless-steel replica of the
shinken, a small dagger that Vega used as an alternative to his
claw, and of course, the very same claw, Vega's favourite weapon.
During the time Vega tended his bruise to his face, he spent some
time learning Iaido and Kendo, the two Japanese arts of using a
sword. Of course, Vega wouldn't use the swords to kill Chun Li,
the person he hated most for ruining his face, but soften her up
before he would slice her with his claw.
Tomorrow evening, they would go to the detective's apartment and
assault her and capture the target.
The target, Balrog thought. So ordinary, and yet so
vital for the rest of Bison and Akuma's operation.
The American's eyes returned to the table. There was a white
ceramic bowl sitting beside the ashtray. The bowl was filled with
black paste – burned diagrams and notes soaked in tap water,
The notes contained everything from where Chun Li lived to the
amount of police patrol that went around the area. Ashes could
still be deciphered; wet ashes were useless.
Just one more friggin' day of this,he told himself.
The door opened and Vega walked in. He shut the door behind him.
He shut it quietly, politely.
Balrog sighed. "How'd it go?"
"It went well. Bison is sending us some men as backup. He
can't afford to fail this operation."
"Great. We don't need some stupid assholes with guns, and
what does he give us?"
This time, Vega sighed. He didn't like Balrog. The heavily
muscled black man had something he didn't possess: an attitude.
He acted as though everyone were a potential enemy, even his
allies.
Balrog took a bottle of still water from the mini-bar and opened
it up. He looked up at Vega. "I'd offer you one, but I know
you'd refuse. You like it hot. Boiling."
"Warm beverages are better for you," Vega replied.
"They make you sweat. Cleans the system."
"As if we don't sweat enough." Balrog commented.
"I don't. And it's a good sensation. Makes you feel
productive. Alive."
"When you're with a lady, sweating is great. In here, it's
self punishment."
"That can be a good feeling, too."
"To a psychotic, maybe."
Vega grinned. "And aren't we all?"
Balrog stayed in the chair, an angry look spread across his face.
"I don't like what you're saying. A psychotic is irrational.
I am not."
"If you say so."
"Iy doo." Balrog said, imitating Vega's
Spanish accent with an edge.
Vega let it go. Unlike Bison, he realized he only needed the man's
skills, not his approval.
Vega opened up the bag and took out the shinken, still in his
scabbard. He took a small part of the sword out, showing it's
gleaming surface, as if it had been barely used. Then, he slid it
back into the scabbard.
As anxious as the two men were, they both slept. They had to.
Tomorrow evening, the most important part of Akuma's plan was to
come into operation.
Sakura lay on the freezing stone block that passed for a bed. But
she wasn't asleep.
Dan, for some reason, had allowed her to be unchained and not be
hanging from the ceiling. Sakura had always been in great pain as
she tried to drop her toes to touch the ground. Now, at least
that pain was over.
She noticed something in Dan that was different to the usual
Shadowloo guards. He seemed a lot nicer to the prisoners than to
anyone else. Anyone else that is, apart from Sagat.
Regularly, Dan would take Sagat out to the Bullpen and strap him
to the running electricity. Then, as soon as Sagat thought he was
going to die, Dan would release him and take him back to his cell.
Sakura was too weak to object to this.
Right now, Sagat was asleep. The last couple of days of torture
had drained his body of energy. Sakura felt alone and afraid,
like she had done ever since she woke up here.
She began to wonder about Ryu, and wondered whether he would end
up like this, because of her.