Faceoff

by Steve Crow

This could be a problem, Freddy "Fast-Hands" Groves thought to himself.

The week had not started well. He had been summoned to Shan Fan from Gomorra without explanation. Admittedly, he had grown bored in the small boomtown. Most of the former Typhoon crew had been recalled months ago when Sim and the others had defeated whatever hellbeast the Whateleys or the Flock had called up. There wasn't much to spy on, maintaining the Rat's business interests was boring, and Chester Nero was a dull conversationalist. But Freddy had better things to do then drop everything at Kang's beck and call. He'd proven himself a dozen times over, and to be summoned so hastily was… galling.

At least he'd be able to visit "Buckets" Nelson, who'd been too busy with some top-secret project of Kang's to wire more than once every couple months.

Stepping off the boat, two of Red Petal Su's goons had unceremoniously grabbed Freddy and hauled him off into the depths of the warehouse district. Hustled through a series of back alleys and warehouses, he was eventually tossed into a room with two of his former comrades, Richard Boothe – and Buckets.

Their surroundings were sumptuously decorated with ancient Chinese tapestries and delicate lettering. Dragons and other beasts of fantasy loomed above them. The hard wood floor, by comparison, was uncarpeted, unadorned.

A number of individuals stood across the room from the three Typhoon crewmen. They were all Oriental - Chinese, by the look of them. They had a… "disciplined" look Freddy had seen before.

Great. The Silver Tiger, Groves thought to himself.

Two familiar figures were seated on ornate chairs among the men. One was an exceedingly attractive Chinese woman in her late 20's, dressed in ornate robes. Red Petals Su, Freddy noted.

The other, a bald wizened man, was Po Yu: sorcerer, second-in-command for the former Typhoon crew, and Sim's former right-hand man.

Before Freddy could say anything, Boothe blurted out, "So, mateys! What is it you brought us here for? Not another of ye silly tests, I hope. The high seas beckon, and I grow tired of being land-bound!"

Groves winced, and Su made a small moue of displeasure. Po Yu and the others remained inscrutable.

"You are here to prove yourself," Po Yu said at last. "Lord Kang has summoned the remaining 'Rats' back to Shan Fan. He commands that you and the others be tested. When we return to Gomorra in force, we will be utilizing a somewhat… different approach, and he must be sure that every one of you is prepared for the rigors of your new regiment."

Freddy decided to interject. "We've already proven ourselves to Captain Sim a dozen times over. This is a waste of time. Where is the Captain, anyway?"

"Sim Yut-San endures his own tests," Po Yu replied. "Your loyalty is worthy of respect, but I would advise that you look only to yourselves. Richard Boothe, you must now face your final test."

One of the Rats' escorts shoved the would-be pirate forward. Growling, Boothe stumbled into the middle of the chamber. A bare-chested man standing next to Red Petals Su glided forward, dropping into a combat stance.

The nature of the test was evident. Boothe drew his cutlass, and Groves was mildly surprised that Po Yu and Red Petals remained quiet. After all, how fair could it be to pit an unarmed man against an experienced Maze Rat with his weapon of choice?

There was a brief blur of motion. That had to hurt, Freddy thought as Boothe's body hit the floor. Quiet servants dressed in black came from behind the seated figures and quickly removed the corpse. Boothe's killer moved back to his place at Po Yu's side, and Groves distantly noted that his hands weren't even bloody.

"Well done, Sin Je," Red Petals said, speaking up for the first time. "So too shall be the fate of all who fail Lord Kang. A lesson you should all take into account." From across the room, only Freddy could see the momentary look of… regret? that crossed Po Yu's face. He had never known the sorcerer to be fond of the whites among the Rats. Perhaps he found the waste of manpower as distasteful as Groves did.

"It ain't fair!" Nelson yelled. "I served ya loyally. The Dragon is ship-shape, and it'll be ready when ya demanded - even with the special modifications!"

Red Petals sniffed. "Did you think that a feeble attempt to buy our favor would exempt you, a glorified cook, from testing? All who serve your Captain - and therefore Lord Kang - must prove themselves. Particularly those who failed in Gomorra. No exceptions!"

Nelson was shoved forward. Freddy didn't even bother watching the slaughter. Nelson had never been a fighter. At least now he would rest permanently with those damned sharks he loved so much.

"And so to you," Red Petals Su said as Nelson's corpse was hauled off. Groves didn't bother to protest. This was what he craved - to match his skills against a true opponent. Still, regardless of his need to prove himself, there wasn't any reason he couldn't have a little fun.

Freddy's opponent drifted forward onto the wooden floor. Younger than the first two, the Asian warrior was only in his early 20s. But his lack of experience was obviously balanced by great speed and stamina. The youth's face was little more than a broad, knowing smile. Cockiness. Good. I can use that.

Before his opponent could strike, Freddy bowed at the waist. The rival fighter, puzzled for a moment, returned the bow. He couldn't help but notice that the Occidental was looking down at the floor rather than keeping his eyes where they should be. Honor is for fools, he thought, and launched a sweep kick.

Groves moved. Dropping forward on one knee, beneath the kick, he drove a fist directly into the Asian warrior's groin before the momentum of his kick could swing the … "target area" out of range. His opponent dropped like a rock.

Freddy got back to his feet, brushing his knees off. The servants removed the inert fighter from the chamber. He would live. Unless Red Petals decided otherwise, Freddy thought.

"My apologies," Red Petals said several moments later. "Jinzo will be… disciplined for his dishonor. We shall find a more worthy opponent for you to match your skills against."

A good job of preserving face, Freddy observed. Honor was ultimately the only way out of this so-called "test" (actually intended as a killing ground - why were they gunning for him?).

He shrugged. "At least he won't be passing on such dishonorable tendencies," he sneered, curling his eyebrow at Kang's subordinate to ensure that she caught his meaning.

She nodded to another of the fighters at her side, who stepped forward and gave a brief, cautious bow. Groves returned the gesture. Then the fight began...

The Tiger initiate (as Freddy assumed, judging from his style) immediately launched into a swift spin kick. Freddy caught the leg at the ankle with his left hand to absorb the blow, pulled down slightly, and brought his cocked right elbow down hard on the knee joint.

There was a sickening crack and the initiate released a scream of agony.

Best to put him out of his misery, Freddy thought, then let go with his left hand and used it, fingers and thumb curled back, to deliver a blow across the man's jaw. The young warrior flew back across the wooden floor, unconscious.

There were several moments of silence, as the remaining Chamber initiates took in the unexpected sight of a Westerner besting one of their own.

Finally, Red Petals Su broke the stillness. "You know tiger-style kung fu?"

Freddy brushed his hands off. "The monks taught me well… and Sim's bodyguard Sun gave me a few pointers as well."

"What monks?" Su asked, her fabled calm almost shattered by the insistence of her question.

"A Shaolin sect that took me in when my parents died in China - the Lantau bloodline."

The woman frowned. "I was not informed of your… background." She turned and scowled at Po Yu. "Did you know of this?"

The sorcerer scratched his head. "I had heard of such things. But they were only rumors. I did not feel myself worthy of bringing such disreputable and unsubstantiated knowledge to your ears."

Inwardly, Groves frowned. Po Yu had known of his background. Sim had taken him on because of his years as an orphan in China, and the fighting skills he had been forced to acquire to survive. Po knew everything Sim knew. What manner of game was the sorcerer playing here?

"Did you not describe this one as a 'pregnant yak' to Lord Kang?" Petals asked, the anger rising in her voice.

Po Yu shrugged, chuckling. "I was not aware you were listening to our conversation. To this one's poor humble eyes, everything moves slowly. Perhaps he moved so fast that I could not perceive his speed? I did tell Lord Kang that I could do nothing for him. It seems I was more correct then I knew." Po Yu's supplication was nearly comical, insulting at the very least. How he managed such audacity before the infamous Red Petals Su, Groves would never comprehend.

"We shall see," Red Petals replied, composing herself. She was not used to losing face to Occidentals. She could dismiss Freddy's first win as a fluke, the cheating trick of a Westerner. But his second victory was an embarrassment. The only way she could regain face was to accept the excuse of ignorance that Po Yu had provided, and adjust the test accordingly. Which meant…

"You shall face two opponents now, Frederick 'Fast Hands' Groves. Only in this manner may your skills truly be measured." She paused for a moment, assessing her remaining men. She nodded to two older fighters, who advanced on to the floor.

"A moment please!" Groves called out, holding up one hand. Bound by etiquette now that he had proven himself worthy against her lower echelon, Red Petals submitted, halting her men. Quickly, Freddy took off his billowy white shirt. Sim had wanted him to be a pirate, and he had dressed the part. But if he was going to fight for his life, he'd be damned if he'd wear the cumbersome shirt. Then he pulled off the red scarf binding his hair. When fighting hand to hand, he preferred it loose. His black leather gloves remained on. He had no intention of dying this day, but if he did, he'd prefer to go out in style.

Suitably prepared, Freddy nodded to the two fighters. He quickly assessed both as they closed. They would not be lured in, or assume that he was an inexperienced fighter as his first two opponents had. Good. A real challenge!

The men had clearly worked as a team before. They split apart, attempting to flank him. Groves let them do so. He could have backed up, and tried to put the chamber wall at his back. But he had never retreated from a fight before, and was damned if he would do so now.

The martial artist on his right lunged, using a raking tiger-claw strike of his own device. Simultaneously, the left-hand opponent danced gracefully in, his arms weaving an elaborate pattern that could be used to defend or to strike without warning from any number of directions.

That's nice, Freddy thought, stepping back from the right-hand fighter's attack and reaching between the left-hand man's arms. To the Maze Rat, the man on his left scarcely appeared to be moving. Groves' hand was open, the fingers together and slightly curled. He thrust his hand forward, hitting the martial artist's throat with the arc from forefinger to thumb. His target fell back, gagging and crumpling to the floor.

Groves turned just in time to avoid a kick from the remaining opponent. He stepped into close quarters with the man, whipping his hair about and into the man's eyes. He could have attempted a head butt… if he wanted a headache for a week - and a possible concussion. Instead, Freddy stamped down hard onto the man's instep.

To his credit, the initiate performed a credible backward jump, avoiding the strike, but Freddy kept right on top of him, thrusting a series of short jabs into his ribs. The man parried one, twisted to absorb the force of a second… and took the third right below the rib cage. Taking advantage of the initiate's momentary pain, Freddy brought his left knee up and into his right side, then swung his right elbow into the man's jaw.

The initiate began to collapse. Freddy reached forward, took the man's left arm, and threw him over his shoulder and into the first fighter, who was just staggering to his feet. The concussion knocked them both down, and unconscious.

Too easy! Freddy sighed inwardly. For a moment he idled in a defensive position, his arm extended from the throw. Then he turned back to Red Petals Su and the others, placed his right fist against his left palm, and bowed.

He remained in that final, supplicant position until Red Petals spoke. It was her right to demand his attention until she was ready to address him. But fortunately, he had survived the test not only physically, but honorably.

There was only one response available to her.

"Very well," she said at long last. "You have proven yourself worthy to serve with the Iron Dragon. Do you so swear that you shall maintain a fixed balance? That you shall endure pain? That you shall accept your place among us and desire nothing more?"

Freddy shrugged. "I'll do anything that Lord Kang - or whoever he puts over me - commands me to do. That is my one desire. Pain is not a concern."

"The Iron Dragon does not tolerate personal vendettas, rebellion within the ranks, or anything which interrupts your duties. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Very well. Po Yu shall provide you the specifics of your new assignment in Gomorra."

Groves straightened and looked to the sorcerer. Po's expression was equal parts contempt and smug self-satisfaction. Clearly he had not undermined Red Petals Su for Freddy's benefit. What manner of game was the ancient one playing?

Did it matter? My true fight today was against Su, and it ended with my victory. If I have to fight Po Yu down the road, then I'll do so.

And I'll win.

© Alderac Entertainment Group, 2001

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