Fatal Fury Fan Fiction ❯ Fatal Fury - The Vengeful Spirits ❯ Chapter Five - Bad Blood ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

 

 

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

Chapter Five: Bad Blood

 

 

South Town City Hall

 

The atmosphere on the steps of City Hall as the mayor finished his announcement was, to put it simply, one of confusion. Both the members of the press, as well as the few members of the mayor's cabinet who had not been in the loop, whispered among themselves.

On the other side of the street, Detective Mary Ryan stood with her hands in her jacket pockets, her face unreadable as usual. She imagined that half the conversations going on right now were people asking one another if they'd just heard the mayor correctly. That was the only reason she could think of that several minutes had passed, but no one had yet asked the obvious question.

Finally, someone close to the front of the crowd raised his hand. “Frank Lanier, Associated Press,” said the man. “Mayor Santos, your entire campaign was built around the promise of eliminating what you referred to as 'unlawful street fights.' Your office was working very closely with the South Town Police Department for the last few months towards this end. Why would you suddenly decide to proclaim that the city will be hosting a new King of Fighters Tournament next month?”

Mayor Santos, a short, balding man in a gray suit with horn-rimmed glasses, stood behind the podium at the top of the stairs and nervously cleared his throat. “Over the last few months,” he spoke into the row of microphones in front of him. “We have found that the biggest opposition to our plan has been coming from residents who feel that the street fight has become a part of this city's... ahem... cultural heritage. We look upon this tournament, legitimately sponsored of course, as a way of giving something back to those individuals, and providing them an outlet to... display their talents in a safe setting.”

Mary frowned at that. Even a grade-schooler could tell that was stupid logic. Like taking someone's ice cream away, then giving it back an hour later, only to take it again after they'd eaten just one bite.

Frank saw this, as well. “But aren't you giving them back something only to take it away again?” He asked. “After this tournament is over, won't street fighting still be illegal here?”

Mayor Santos cleared his throat again. “I'm very sorry, but I have another engagement that requires my immediate attention.” He gestured to a woman on his right with short, dark hair, impeccably dressed in pressed black slacks and a blazer. “Dotty Simmons, our public relations liaison, is qualified to answer any and all additional questions. Please excuse me.” He gave a small wave to the crowd, then turned from the podium and walked inside without looking back.

The dark-haired woman took the podium, but Mary had heard enough. She donned a pair of sunglasses and a pair of black fingerless gloves, then walked towards her waiting motorcycle, the wheels in her mind already turning.

Moving quickly, but not so quickly as to draw attention to himself, Mayor Santos stepped off the elevator, and double-timed it towards his office, his polished shoes making little noise on the velvet carpeting. He stole a quick glance around, and then opened the door to his office and entered.

Three men were standing in front of his desk: a dark-haired man in a black suit and sunglasses, and a blond man dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket, with a bandanna on his head in the style of the British flag, were both flanking the third man, also blond, who was taller, dressed in a dark suit and red power tie, with a scar running down his left eye.

“Your bodyguards?” The scarred man asked as the mayor nervously approached the desk.

“Were called off, as you instructed , Mr. Howard,” said Mayor Santos, who was visibly sweating. “They're down in the lobby. The proclamation is on my desk. Please... I did what you wanted.”

Geese Howard turned his head slightly to the right, his cold eyes still on the mayor. “Mr. Ripper?”

The dark-haired man in the suit sat down behind the desk, scanned the large document sitting on it that bore Santos's signature. “Looks legit, sir,” he said after a minute.

Geese held his left hand out to the man in the jacket. “Billy?”

Billy Kane pulled a radio from the pocket of his jacket, passed it to Geese.

Nice neighborhood, Hopper thought to himself as he cast a quick glance around from his vantage point. Maybe I'll retire here someday.

He was on a rooftop across the street from the mansion that Mayor Santos called home. He had done some scouting last night, and found that this roof provided the most unobstructed view of the grounds, so he had set himself up here.

Making himself as flat on the gravel surface as he could, Hopper peered through the scope of his sniper rifle at the mansion's spacious yard. A woman was sitting on a blanket on the bright green grass, playing with two small children who looked to be between the ages of five and eight. Hopper looked down and checked his watch. Two more minutes, he thought as he clicked off the rifle's safety. Already, he was mapping out the order he would take the shots in. The mother first, so she doesn't need to see what happens to the other two...

Suddenly, the headset radio he was wearing crackled to life. “Mr. Hopper, do you read?” He heard Geese Howard, the deep voice slightly tinny from static.

Hopper thumbed the safety back on, and spoke into the headset's mouthpiece. “Loud and clear, sir. What's up?”

“Stand down,” Geese said. “I repeat, stand down. The mayor has performed as asked. Pack up and head home.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hopper. He popped the clip out of the rifle, then opened a black attache case lying nearby and started to disassemble the weapon.

 

Back in the mayor's office, Geese Howard passed the radio back to Billy. “Relax, your honor,” he said to the still sweating mayor. “They're fine now. And as long as you continue to cooperate, they will stay that way. However, should you decide to tell anyone about this... just remember that we can get to you.”

The three men started towards the door of the office. “We'll show ourselves out, Mr. Mayor,” Geese said with a cold smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day. We'll be in touch.” After the door clicked shut, signaling their departure, Mayor Santos found himself sweating even more profusely...

Mino, Japan – The Shiranui Dojo

It was after dinner, and Mai Shiranui had gone to the dojo's gym to work off some aggression. She had not reacted well to the attack having taken place so soon after Hanzo's burial. Since then, it seemed that when she wasn't blowing off steam in the gym she was in a deep depression, but never anywhere in between.

Of course, Andy Bogard realized that he probably could have been acting better in the week since the attack. After he had checked his belongings that night, he had left his room and gone back down the hall to Mai's room. Through the closed shoji, he had heard her crying. A large voice inside of him kept saying that he should go inside, apologize to her again, and then comfort her, since she had said she didn't want to be alone that night. But then another voice told him that if he did that, Mai would insist on knowing the reason for his sudden change in mood, so Andy had quietly turned and gone back to his own room.

It had been a struggle for Andy since then. He was still trying to provide comfort for Mai in her grief, but he was also trying to avoid talking about what had happened that night. Mai had definitely noticed the change in him, Andy acting a little more like his old self again, but so far she had chosen not to confront him yet.

It's my past, not hers, Andy thought. If this is what I think it is, then I can't involve her in it. As soon as I've dealt with this, then I can focus all my attention on her again. But for now, it's best that she doesn't know.

Andy now sat in the dojo's kitchen with Joe Higashi, who had come down from Tokyo by train. Andy had a cup of tea in his hands while Joe was sipping on a bottle of Kirin. Joe nodded to the photograph on the table in between them, the sole contents of the envelope that Andy had found on the night of the attack. “You're sure about this?” He asked Andy.

“I'm pretty sure,” Andy said with a grim nod.

Joe picked up the photo, and studied it again. It was black and white, and showed an old man with a white beard standing in between two boys who looked to be in their early teens. One was blond, and the other was dark-haired. Whoever had sent the photo to Andy had taken a lit cigarette, and burned holes in the faces of the old man and the dark-haired youth. Joe held it up and looked at Andy through one of the holes. “Because of a burned photograph found in an envelope with your name on it that someone pinned to your girlfriend's wall?”

“There's more to it than that,” Andy explained. “I need to give you a little background.” He took a long sip of tea and then continued. “I'm sure you've guessed that the old man in that photograph is Master Tung. The two boys standing with him are my father and Geese Howard. Master Tung showed me that picture once. It was taken with my father's camera, and Master said there were only two copies. My father had one, I know because I found it in his things after he was buried, and brought it with me to Japan. I thought Master Tung had the other, but after he died, Terry and I were there when inventory was taken of the belongings in his dojo, and Master's copy of that picture wasn't among them.”

“Hmmm.” Joe took a pull at his beer. “And this isn't your dad's copy?”

“First thing I checked on the night that I found it,” said Andy. “Jeff's copy is still in with my things, untouched. And the way Master Tung talked about it, I don't think anyone else knew about that picture except the people in it.”

Joe stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Could Geese Howard have any friends?”

Andy snorted. “Him? I don't think Geese believed in friends. He would have just seen them as obstacles between him and power. And the closest thing he had to family is dead.”

Joe nodded. “I had an exhibition match in Germany two months ago, and from what I could gather from the locals while there, Krauser's right hand guy... um... what was his name?”

“Laurence Blood?”

“Right. He apparently retired to somewhere in Spain and owns a vineyard there, I think. The rest of Krauser's old servants have found employment with other wealthy households all over Europe, and his castle has been converted into a national landmark. So it doesn't look like Krauser has any heirs who might be causing trouble. I guess there are no other suspects. But, still... Geese Howard back from the dead?”

Andy shrugged. “They dragged the lake after Terry fought Geese, and his body was never found. We assumed that he couldn't have survived the wound Terry gave him. He may have just been hiding these last three years. Whoever left that picture seemed to want to send a clear message, since both my father and Master Tung's faces have been burned out.”

“Would also explain why his goons are still working together,” said Joe. “By the way, I dug around for some news articles, and it looks like the night after I left Hong Kong, there was a robbery.”

Andy raised an eyebrow. “Really? Of what?”

Joe pulled a piece of lined note paper from his back pocket, unfolded it, and started to read. “A museum was displaying a bunch of artifacts from the Qin Dynasty in China, which I think was about 2,200 years ago. Strange thing is, there was lots of valuable stuff there, irreplaceable items that were one of a kind, probably worth millions to a black market collector. But the thief or thieves only took one thing and left the rest of the displays alone.”

“What did they take?”

Joe squinted at his handwriting. “Something called a Jin Scroll. I haven't found anything else about what it is, or what it does.”

Andy shrugged. “Maybe I should pay Master Jubei a visit and see if he's heard of it. I think Mai could probably use some alone time.”

Joe said nothing to that, and simply took a sip of beer. Then he asked: “Did they ever get anything out of the guys who attacked her?”

Andy shook his head. “They're all dead. The four in the lock-up were found the morning after the attack with their throats cut. The guy at Tokyo General was found a few hours later with drain cleaner injected into his IV.”

“Hm. So no way to know who sent them, then.” Joe looked thoughtful for a moment. “Andy, have you spoken to Terry recently?”

“No,” said Andy. “Why?”

“Apparently, the mayor of South Town has decided to go ahead and proclaim that the city would be hosting a new King of Fighters tournament starting at the first of next month.”

Andy's blue eyes came wide open. “What? Why didn't you say something sooner?”

“I thought maybe Terry had called you, too,” Joe said as he sipped his Kirin. “But that's not all. Terry also said that he had an encounter recently. Someone he saw in the woods behind South Town Cemetery said his name, and then he was hit by an energy attack. He thought the energy blast looked like one of Geese's Reppukens, but he never saw the attacker's face.”

Andy shook his head. He didn't know why Terry hadn't called him, but he knew Terry was still dealing with some personal demons. Perhaps Andy's relationship with Mai reminded Terry of his own doomed romances? Andy pushed the thought away. There were more pressing matters right now. “I don't believe in coincidences,” he told Joe. “Not after everything we've been through in the past. Those thugs attacking Mai, the attack on Terry, this picture showing up out of the blue, the King of Fighters tournament coming back... someone is sending a message that they want us back in South Town. Maybe it's Geese, and maybe it's not, but someone wants us there.”

Joe nodded. “So, what do we do?”

“The only thing we can: we enter the tournament, find out who's behind all of this, and if it is Geese Howard, we put an end to it. For good, this time. I'll call Terry and see if he can register us, and also ask him to keep his eyes open for any info as the tournament gets nearer. And I'll do some research of my own, see if Master Jubei knows anything about a Jin Scroll. Can you arrange transportation to the States for you and me?”

“What about Mai?” Joe asked.

“No,” Andy said. “This is not her fight. This has to do with bad blood that started before I ever met her. I can't let her get involved in my old vendettas. I won't.”

“So, what are you gonna tell her?”

“I don't know yet. It's funny. I'm more afraid of having that conversation than I am of the idea that Geese might be alive. But I'll have to think of something.”

“Okay, Andy, I'll make the travel arrangements, then,” said Joe. “Transportation for two.”

“Make that three.” Andy and Joe turned their heads as one to see Mai standing in the kitchen doorway, still dressed in her kunoichi uniform, casually twirling a fan in one hand.

Andy's mouth squeezed into a tight line. He wondered how much of the conversation Mai had heard. Knowing his luck, she'd definitely heard the part about him wanting to leave her behind. “Mai, are you sure you're up for this?” He asked her. “You did just bury your grandfather...”

“And I'll continue to mourn him in my own way,” said Mai, fixing her brown eyes on Andy with a gaze that could have cut diamond. “But not by sitting here moping while the people I know and love are off fighting in another country. I've done enough moping these past few weeks. Grandfather wouldn't want me to just sit at home and cry. Not while you need my help.”

“I understand that, Mai,” said Andy. “But you're master of this dojo now. Don't you think...”

“And as master of this dojo,” Mai interrupted him. “I'll help you find the cowards responsible for insulting both myself and my grandfather's legacy by sending thugs to attack me in my home, and I'll teach them a lesson.” She crossed over to where they were sitting, and slammed her fan down on the tabletop. “Count me in!”

For once in his life, Joe had no sarcastic remark. “Three it is!” He said.

 

To be continued...