Tekken Fan Fiction ❯ The King of Iron Fist Tournament 6 ❯ Negotiator ( Chapter 31 )

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

“Sergei Dragunov, I presume,” Yoshimitsu nodded as he remained alert, “it is said that you are a man of honor. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“…Mr. Yoshimitsu,” Dragunov pointed to behind the swordsman, “I am here for Ms. Kazama. I am under orders to bring her in immediately.”
“WHAT!?” Yoshimitsu got into a fighting stance and prepared for battle, “Are you working with the blonde swordsman!?” The Manjitou warrior had just quelled the rage of the girl they were talking about: he was certainly not about to give her up to these people.
“What in God's name are you talking about!?” Dragunov and the rest of his crew assumed their own fighting stance in response to Yoshimitsu, oblivious to what the swordsman was referring to. “I am under orders from General Joseph Minorov! And resistance will be dealt with most harshly!”
“Well, THAT sounds like violation of at least three different treaties,” an unknown voice said calmly.
Quickly darting around, Dragunov looked behind him and saw a tall man wearing a familiar olive military garb and red beret leaning against the door of the Inner Sanctum with his arms crossed. His handsome face, pair of glasses, and long black hair were more than enough to identify him: Doren Sharon, first lieutenant of the Israeli Defense Force.
“Lieutenant Sharon,” Dragunov said with a hint of surprise, “what are you doing here? Have you been spying on me?”
“For the past two days,” the Israeli answered as he uncrossed his arms. “That woman in the trenchcoat from the tournament gave me a tip that you were up to something...looks like she was right.” Looking pass Dragunov, he saw the sleeping Kenichi and Asuka with their torn clothing and frowned. Something had definitely happened before he or Dragunov arrived…and Doren had a good idea what. Damn, it looks like I came too late…poor kid…seems that the woman in the trenchcoat wasn't kidding when she said Asuka had hidden powers not meant to be seen… I pray I'm wrong though…that those tattered garments are just from a heated sparring session…at least they're still alive.
…he must be referring to the `Unknown' competitor, Dragunov thought as he crossed his arms. How did she know about this? Psychic power, more than likely: she certainly seemed to have supernatural abilities when she fought Heihachi. “Be that as it may, I don't see what the IDF has to do with this. Now answer my previous question: why are you here?”
“I'm trying to prevent an international conflict from sparking off. One of the treaties you're violating also had the Israeli Prime Minster present during its signing,” Doren pointed an accusing finger at the Spetsnaz captain. “So I am asking you…both as a fellow soldier, and as a fellow martial artist…please back off.”
“…poor fools.” Yoshimitsu shook his head as he overheard the two soldiers quarrel, realizing that Dragunov had no idea what had just transpired prior to his entering the temple. “Do you not realize that what you are doing is the exact same thing as what the Nazis did, or the men who were responsible for the strife in Vietnam!?” Yoshimitsu clenched his fist as he spoke, “Blindly following orders…not caring for the repercussions of such tactics!”
“What!? How dare you,” one of the masked men pulled out a combat knife, “My grandfather was a Holocaust survivor, how DARE you compare us those…Nazi BUTCHERS!?”
“CORPORAL!” Dragunov's voice boomed with authority that made the man stop in his tracks, “Do NOT engage the enemy until I say so!”
“He does have a point there, Captain,” Doren lowered his finger, “What you're doing here not only violates international code, but the morality of it is also in serious question.”
“...” Dragunov was silent as he began stroking his chin in deep contemplation. The Israeli had a point: although Dragunov knew about the moral complications, he reluctantly brushed his doubts aside because of his pride and reputation as a soldier. However, he had yet to really ponder why the general would want Asuka Kazama. What possible goals would it accomplish? The KGB claimed she was the “daughter of Kazuya Mishima,” so she was a capable fighter, but nothing truly noteworthy that would benefit the motherland…as far as he knew. If they wanted her help, it would have been stated in the orders to “recruit” Asuka, not “capture” her. “…you bring up valid points, lieutenant,” he finally said, “come, let us step outside…we'll continue this conversation in private.” Turning to his comrades, Dragunov issued an order, “Men, do not engage while I am gone. This mission is postponed until further notice.”
“That's fine by me, captain. I'm glad that we understand each other,” Doren tipped his beret in acknowledgement as he let Dragunov pass him and step outside, closing the door behind them. Yoshimitsu let out a sigh as the door closed and sat down, surrounded by the remaining six soldiers who remained at attention. He had a very good idea why the Russian government would want Asuka, but Dragunov's ignorance to the reasons certainly left Yoshimitsu puzzled. Is there some sort of conspiracy in Moscow?
“Well, lieutenant…it is just you and I now,” Dragunov said calmly as Doren closed the door to the temple and the two soldiers began going down the stairway. “Your KGB profile says that you are a negotiator…so let us negotiate. It seems that you know some things that I do not…tell me what you know…all of what you know.”
“Hey, captain, don't be so harsh,” Doren responded as he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned his glasses, “I'll tell you everything I know that pertains to the mission, that was the whole point of-“
“That is not enough, lieutenant,” Dragunov began to scowl, “the true identity of the woman in the trenchcoat…divulge the information.”
“…I am sorry, captain, but she asked that she remained anonymous,” Doren's voice gained a more serious tone as he continued cleaning his glasses, “she's been trying to piece together her life, and I respect the wishes of a civilian. You should know this, captain: as soldiers, we have duty towards the people.”
“I see…one of us will have to take liberties with our duties if we are to resolve this without creating an international conflict…a wager then,” Dragunov smirked as the two soldiers reached the bottom of the stairway, “if I defeat you, you tell me everything you know. If you defeat me, then I'll call off my troops, no questions asked.”
“What, this isn't something we can't work out with words?” Doren put his glasses back on, took a few steps back, and assumed a fighting stance in response to Dragunov. “Well, I've always believed a friendly match helps break the ice…so long as we keep it between ourselves unless we want our asses court-martialed. Alright…I accept your challenge!”
“Prepare yourself, lieutenant!” As Dragunov issued forth his battle cry, the two soldiers ran towards each other to engage in their rematch.
Quickly evading a right hook, Dragunov grabbed onto Doren's arm and took him to ground and brought him into an armlock. His muscles straining, Doren gritted his teeth a and grabbed onto Dragunov's foot and began twisting it as hard as he could. What will he choose, Doren thought as he continued twisting while his other arm remained in the armlock, my arm, or his foot?
No longer able to endure, Dragunov let go of Doren and gripped his foot while Doren rolled away and rubbed his arm as he got up. Noticing that Dragunov hadn't fully recovered from the pain, Doren launched the Russian Spetsnaz soldier into the air with a pair of uppercuts shot out simultaneously, and brought him crashing to the ground with a double-fisted hammer as his foe came down.
Quickly shaking off the aftereffects of the blow, the Russian solider grabbed on to Doren's leg and got him into a successful leg lock, twisting the leg and slightly hyper extending it before standing back up. Grunting in pain, Doren narrowly rolled away from an axe kick and stood back up, though he winced from the pain in his leg. Blocking a finger-thrust, Doren grabbed Dragunov by the neck and sent him flying backwards with a powerful punch to the stomach. Landing on his hands, Dragunov flipped back onto his feet and resumed his fighting stance.
“You defeated me the first time because I was surprised by your unique style of combat,” Dragunov said as he and Doren began sidestepping, walking in a circle, “But this time I am much better prepared. This time, I will not be defeated so easily!”
“Hey, don't sell yourself short,” Doren said between breaths, “beating you the first time wasn't exactly easy! But if you want to get serious, then let's get serious!” Doren took off his beret and tossed it to the side. “Just remember: this is just a friendly match. I don't want this little wager to get out of hand.”
“Do not worry, tovarich. I promise you that we shall resolve the Kazama matter momentarily,” Dragunov nodded his head in approval as he resumed his attack. “You better be ready to divulge the information, lieutenant!”
Quickly evading Doren's leg thrust, Dragunov sent the Israeli soldier into the air with an open-fisted uppercut. With his opponent still airbourne, Dragunov contined his assault with a series of open-palmed strikes, finally sending Doren flying backwards into a flower patch next to the stairway with a backwards leg thrust. Landing on his feet, Doren quickly got back into a fighting stance as Dragunov came running after him.
Carefully parrying a fingers-first lunge, Doren grabbed Dragunov's face and began to punch the side of his head. After the third strike, Doren attempted to kick Dragunov away, but it was a snare. Catching the leg, Dragunov pushed Doren away, leaving the Israeli vulnerable to being tackled to the ground. “Now you are on my turf, lieutenant…on the ground is where I am the White God of Death!”
With lightning-fast strikes, Dragunov began pounding on Doren's abdomen with a powerful series of open-fisted strikes. The blows continued to rain down on Doren, again and again, until Doren caught Dragunov's fist and kicked the man off of him. Catching his breath, Doren put out his hand and said, “That's enough for now, Captain.”
“Hmph! Over so soon? How disappointing…so does that mean you will talk?” Dragunov raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
“Of course,” Doren said as he fell down on one knee, “I accepted the challenge so I can see for myself if you really were truly unaware of what was really going on with Asuka Kazama…I now see that from the way you fought that your nobility would never allow you to accept a mission if you knew the whole truth.” The Israeli's handsome face became adorned with a smile, “You're okay, captain…”
“Flattery gets us nowhere, lieutenant,” Dragunov said as he walked over to where Doren tossed off his red beret, picked it up, and handed it to Doren. “And you should be more careful with your uniform…it is unbecoming of a soldier of your stature.”
“Now who's letting loose with the flattery,” Doren replied as he put his beret back on and stood back up. “But before we begin, I'll have to ask you that you keep the woman's identity a secret. She has the right to remain anonymous, and we must respect that.”
“Yes, yes, I vow on my honor as a soldier,” Dragunov waved his hand slightly in his impatience. “Now let's begin…”
“…OK…the woman claimed to be an amnesiac when she approached me…it was right after the quarterfinals that she came to me. She told me that she entered the tournament to try and piece together her former life, and she also claimed to overhear of your mission and thought that I would be the one best suited to investigate it. In return I agreed to see what I can do about helping her fill in the blanks with her identity. Then she asked me,” the Israeli paused in his speech, “…what would a child of Kazuya Mishima have?”
“…a Devil gene,” Dragunov said quietly as he snapped his fingers, “so that's what the general wants! It appears my men and I are caught knee-deep in a conspiracy. Lieutenant, your information is safe with me: I will investigate this matter further and discover what my superiors in Moscow would want with such a terrible power. I will not allow my beloved Russia to be torn apart by such corruption!”
“Excellent,” Doren nodded, “I'm glad we managed to nip this in the bud before it got out of hand…just remember: Asuka is with a different family for the very same reason. Don't tell anyone about this…”
“And tell me, lieutenant…did you manage to find out the identity of our `Unknown'?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Doren crossed his arms, “judging from what she and I gathered, it would seem that our mutual friend was Jun Kazama…former WWWC officer who went missing for the past seven years after being attacked by that Ogre creature that rampaged around the world not too long ago.” Lowering his head, Doren shook his head, “Unfortunately, after I told her name, she just bowed and left…without saying a word.”
“…interesting…well, that will be all lieutenant…this will just be between the two of us.” Dragunov nodded as he pulled out a radio from his pocket and pressed a button. “Corporal, tell our men to start packing up and getting ready to head out. I will meet you at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Sir,” a young man's voice responded, “After speaking with Yoshimitsu, we have learned that Ms. Kazama was attacked earlier, and the man claimed that she…transformed into a Devil…however Yoshimitsu withheld the name of the attacker from us. We managed to find a few feathers within the temple to confirm this…however we didn't discover any marks on her arm to indicate any sort of transformation…should I take the feathers with us?”
“…yes, corporal. They shall serve as proof of what has transpired…over and out…” Dragunov said as he put his radio down. He had a good idea who is was that attacked her: the same man who held a grudge against anything that involved Kazuya Mishima: the madman Jean Sorel, who constantly shot off his mouth during the tournament on how he would wreak awful vengeance upon Kazuya and his brethren, whether they were Kazuya's ally or not. So G-Corporation made their move…that's interesting…that maniac is already one of Russia's major allies in genetics, so I can't just arrest Sorel…yet.
“Captain,” Doren began, “I noticed that you refrained from doing any serious damage to my head…it's probably a silly question, but is their any particular reason why?”
“It is a silly question, but easily answered,” Dragunov walked over to Doren as he spoke, “…you know of Natasha Federov, yes?”
“…yeah,” Doren rubbed that back of his head in his reply, “she's my fiancée…how do you know her?”
“Hmph…she's my little sister, separated from divorced parents…we haven't seen each other in seven years though…I just didn't want to damage the face my sister fell in love with…”
“Whoa…so you're the brother Sergei she's told me about,” Doren raised his eyebrows in surprise, “…small world…sorry if we didn't send you an invitation to the wedding…it must have gotten lost in the mail…”
“Lieutenant…I know humor is the way you deal with these things, but do me a favor and give it a rest…I'll see you at Ostrheinsburg, or if you can't make it, the next tournament…” Dragunov saluted as he saw his men exit the inner sanctum. “Tell Natasha that her big brother Sergei sends his best.”
“…I will,” Doren returned the salute and watched Dragunov and his men walk away, “Shalom, Captain…and I'll look forward to our next battle.” …well, Doren said as he walked back up the steps of the inner sanctum, this little rivalry of ours just got a WHOLE lot more interesting!
As Dragunov walked walked out of the temple, a faint glimmer caught his eye in a nearby bush. Reaching out to glimmer, he picked up a miniature spy camera, no bigger than a pea. “Hello, whoever you are,” Dragunov said to the pea-sized device, “did you enjoy the show?” Crushing it between his fingers, the captain said coldly, “Wait until you see the next episode…”
Once Doren got back to the top of the stairway, he opened the door to see that Yoshimitsu had not moved from where he was standing when he left him: the only difference being that the Manjitou warrior was now sitting down. “…so…I see you managed to get this resolved,” the armored warrior said as he stood back up, “…well done.”
“Yeah, but there are still some questions I would like answered from you,” Doren said as he gripped his arm where Dragunov had put him in an arm lock earlier, “…just what went on here before Dragunov and I got here? I overheard Dragunov's radio transmission that she was attacked…”
“…I shall explain later, Sharon-san. But for the moment…let's get these two back to the hotel...” Yoshimitsu said as he put his sword into a slot above his back and picked up Asuka from Kenichi's arms, being careful not to rouse her. “You seem to be aware that Asuka is secretly a Mishima…do you know who the mother is?”
“…I've got a pretty good idea,” Doren replied as he gently picked the slumbering Kenichi, who had begun to heal from his wounds, “…but I have a feeling my informant would appreciate it if I kept it a secret for now…”
“…you are as virtuous as they say, Sharon-san,” Yoshimitsu bowed his head as the two fighters began walking out of the temple with a teenager in each of their arms, “Come…we have much to discuss.”
“What the hell just happened?” Jean said to himself out loud while he sat in his van, watching what had just transpired. “It seems that Kazuya's big secret wasn't such a secret after all…and that meddlesome Dragunov will definitely begin searching for any sort of evidence he can use against me and G-Corporation.” But no matter, Jean thought as he realized that he was talking to no one, the Russian government is a fight for another time…I have bigger fish to fry…
Looking at another screen, he found his quarry. She was within less than a mile of the temple grounds. The trap had worked. Asuka Kazama had awoken to her awful power, and that most certainly drew out Jean's target from her hiding place. Tapping on his keyboard, Jean looked the radar screen, hoping that the computer within his van would triangulate on her location.
The top of Tokyo Tower: that makes sense. She would have a bird's eye view of everything in the city. She lived in Tokyo for a while…she must be trying to see if she can remember something by looking at her old hometown. If she had regained all her memories, then she would have surely stopped me when I attacked Kazama and Masamune...well, don't you worry, madam…I'll be sure to reacquaint you with your past!
Turning the key of the van into ignition, the vehicle roared to life. As Jean pushed down the pedal and headed to the entrance of Tokyo Tower, he began to chuckle…which began a laugh…and finally climaxed into an insane cackle.
Jun Kazama…we have a date at Tokyo Tower!