Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ The King of Iron Fist Tournament 6 ❯ Doren vs Dragunov: the Assignment ( Chapter 10 )

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

“….OK, Natasha. Please be sure to keep the Shabbat candles lit tonight….I love you too, dear. Shabbat shalom.”
Doren hung up his cell phone and put it in his pocket as he looked around. His next fight was scheduled on top of the helipad of a hospital. The Israeli soldier had a pretty good idea why Jin chose this place: the loser would already be home. Doren finally spotted his opponent: a man dressed in a Russian military garb with black gloves and a design of a swooping hawk on either side of where the buttons lined up.
He was about to face the Spetnaz commander, Dragunov.
“So you are the one defeated Irvin,” Dragunov said as he climbing up the ladder that led to the helipad and got onto his feet. Doren noticed that Dragunov had a heavy Russian accent when he spoke; his fiancée Natasha had one just like it. Doren's train of thought was broken when Dragunov shouted, “Soldier! Name and rank!”
Doren quickly went into attention and saluted. “Doren Sharon, first lieutenant, Israeli defense force, Hagana unit, sir!”
He's in the Hagana? Dragunov thought to himself, this should make for an interesting fight indeed then. “At ease, lieutenant…now prepare yourself!”
Doren narrowly dodged a punch by bending over backwards, and then brought his right fist down on Dragunov's head as Doren straightened himself. Dragunov evaded the left hook that Doren followed up with, and grabbed on to his arm in an attempt to bring him down with an armlock. The Israeli quickly grabbed on to Dragunov's neck with his other arm as they tumbled to the ground. As the two fighters intensified their lock on each other, Dragunov gurgled up some blood while Doren began to grit his teeth in pain. After three seconds of this, both fighters released their hold and each other and scrambled up.
Doren again tried to punch Dragunov, but the Russian soldier grabbed on and sent Doren flat on his back. As he reached for the temporarily fallen soldier to again try for an armlock, Doren sprang back onto feet, hitting Dragunov with his elbow on the way up. The Russian shook his head, then tried for a kick, but Doren shot out his leg even faster, hitting Dragunov in the stomach and sending him flying backwards.
Dragunov spat out some more blood and smiled as he went for Doren's right leg in a leglock attempt. Dragunov caught the leg, but not before finding Doren's left foot in front of his face. As Doren kicked out Dragunov's left incisor, the Russian managed to twist Doren's leg; there was no serious damage, but it was enough for Doren to grit his teeth in agony. Both combatants cried out in pain as they gripped their damaged appendages.
Good…he didn't damage my leg too badly…Doren thought as he let go of his right leg. But I can't do this for very long. I have to end this soon. He looked up and saw Dragunov rearing his fist back. Just as it was about to strike him, Doren saw his opportunity.
Doren quickly sidestepped the punch and grabbed to Dragunov's neck and the back of his uniform. Once he had gotten a good hold, he rammed in right knee into Dragunov's abdomen, and then repeated the attack only with his left knee. After completing then two knee strikes, he tightened his grip on Dragunov and tossed him over his shoulder and onto the hard floor with a loud thud.
Very impressive, lieutenant,” Dragunov said as he folded his arms while continuing to lay his back. “Now…finish it!”
“What do you mean?” Doren looked down at Dragunov, “you've been down for ten seconds, and that means that I am victorious. There is no need to apply any more force.”
“…..” Dragunov was silent as he got back up and rubbed his back, “you had the opportunity to end the fight numerous times during our match, yet you did not take any advantage of it until now…why?”
“Because the opportunities I did have would have crippled you indefinitely,” Doren looked out to the sinking sun as he spoke. “I have seen some very disturbing things in my time as a soldier, and it is my firm belief that mercy is what can prevent such atrocities.”
“Mercy will not get you very far,” Dragunov straightened himself out, “I see you becoming an unstoppable force, but you have to let go of your petty emotions! Until you do that, you'll be nothing but a soft-hearted fool.” Dragunov outstretched his hand towards Doren. “Why not join me? With my help you'll be the strongest soldier in the world.”
“I may be a `soft-hearted' fool, but the world needs more of those kinds of people than those who know nothing but hate and strife,” Doren began walking away, “I'm sorry, but I do not believe that coming with you would help me in my quest for peace.”
“…I see.” Dragunov began pacing back and forth as Doren opened the door that led to the stairs of the hospital. “Then perhaps we can arrange a rematch.” Doren stopped dead in his tracks when he heard those words. Dragunov smirked as he continued. “Meet me in the old Ostrheinsburg Chapel in Germany two weeks after the tournament. The day after you finish this tournament, my lieutenant will give you the exact date and time.”
Doren smiled as he waved behind him. “I look forward to it. Shalom.”
Don't be late, lieutenant, Dragunov mused to himself, because that's when we'll see just how tough you are.
“Sir, are you all right?” A young man came up to Dragunov as his brunette superior came off the elevator of the hospital. Dragunov simply nodded as he continued walking towards the door. “Sir, I just received new orders from the general. We are to continue to observe the tournament and wait for an opportunity to apprehend our target.”
“What do you mean `our target'?” Dragunov looked to his youthful underling and raised an eyebrow. “I do not recall having any sort of `target' in this tournament. Explain further, Corporal!” Dragunov was given a folder with sheets of paper and a photograph. Dragunov went for the photograph, and saw a brown-haired Japanese woman who couldn't possibly be older than 19. “I know this girl, she is competing in the tournament. What reason do we have for pursuing such a meaningless child?”
“Sir, if you would take a closer look at the report the KGB filed on her…” the corporal gave Dragunov a sheet of paper as the two took a seat on a bench outside of the hospital.
All Dragunov had to do was see the words “Kazuya Mishima” on the document to rouse his interest. “Kazuya…has a daughter?”
“It would seem so, sir, and our superiors ask that we take her alive. Unfortunately, we don't have any more information than what they told us.” The corporal explained as he noticed Dragunov began to smirk. “Sir, permission to speak freely?”
“Granted, corporal.”
“What has you in such high spirits?”
“Just the thought that I'll be able to exact my vengeance on Kazuya with this mission,” Dragunov stood up and began walking away as his corporal followed him. “Tell the general that I accept, and will take the opportunity to apprehend her when the time is right.”