**Disclaimer**: Tekken is not MINE… Must you always make me rub it in my own face?
All Is Fair
The rebels are starting up again… This is where they pull me in. My job is to kill a ton of people young or old, female or male. It doesn’t matter. They point a gun, I kill them. That’s how it works. I don’t want to kill. I don’t know why I’m killing, but whatever my orders, I will do…
It was the middle of summer. My first year in the Korean Military was coming to an end, but there was no reason to celebrate. I was supposed to send off the year by killing a bunch of people for a cause I didn’t even know. Of course, I would. What kind of man would I be if I refused to do my duty? Duty. What a strange word. A word that could make the most horrendous acts sounds honourable. We were the heroes of our country and we got to be heroes by killing, by taking innocent lives, and guilty lives alike.
“DOO SAN!” One of my senior officers hollered, bounding down the stairs of the barracks.
“Sir?” I asked, looking up from my poker game.
He looked over my poker buddies and snorted, “Always gambling,” He looked at me with disgust, “Commander wishes to speak with you.”
I saluted him and stood up, throwing my cards on the table in the typical, ‘I fold’ style. The guys waved me off with a series of “Oh now you’re in trouble,” and “Don’t forget to use protection,” remarks. They weren’t very creative when it came to teasing.
The stairs groaned under my weight. I assumed the Commander was with the prisoners where he usually was. Always torturing some person into revealing secrets. His favourite to torture was the women, but they usually hung on to their secrets the longest. Perhaps that’s what he liked about them. Or perhaps he was just a pervert with a badge. A pervert with honour. Our Hero.
“Commander,” I said walking into the room, “You wanted to speak with me, sir?”
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes slowly made their way to me in an uncaring fashion, “Private.” He looked at a man sitting in front of him. A reporter. “This is Bae Fang-Lee. I’m supposed to bring him around so he can get stories, but I am much to busy to baby sit a reporter. You will take him. Remember to keep him a safe distance from the action.”
“Uh… Yes Sir…”
The man stood casually and walked over to me, expectantly. What he expected was unknown to me but I took him with me anyway. I didn’t really want to be responsible for someone else’s life but orders were orders.
Our orders were still unknown. We were on a jeep, 6 privates – including me – 1 senior officer, and the reporter. He was asking me all sorts of questions that I couldn’t answer and it was wearing on my last nerves. Didn’t anybody tell him not to piss of a guy holding a loaded gun when his job is to shoot people? Talk about a dumbass.
The jeep stopped in some trees. Our senior officer turned toward us and got into his typical position for telling orders. His arms spread out, resting on the back of seats, his eyes partly shut lazily, but still alert, and his head tilted slightly as if he were daring us to question him. I generally took that dare but I had to wait until he actually spoke so I’d have something to question.
“We have a lead saying that a mile ahead of us there’s a Rebel hideout. Your orders are to raid that hideout and gather information. Look for documents, or any other papers you can find. Take prisoners if you can. And as usual, only kill if they fire first.” He paused, “I’m putting Twon in charge. Go through the back. Doo San. Obey Twon this time, will ya? It’s very important that you follow orders.”
Of course since he called me on it, you just KNOW that I couldn’t resist. Only I managed to stay silent and keep my thoughts to myself. Unusual of me, but I had plans of my own.
We got out of the jeep and the senior officer drove away after handing Twon a sketched map. Twon was an arrogant asshole that was always being put in charge. He was a lot like me except he kissed the asses of anyone more important then him. I wouldn’t resort to insulting myself like that. So we started walking at a steady pace, not wanting to exert ourselves before the potential battle. The reporter was stumbling a bit, not used to this forest terrain, but he somehow managed to keep his cool.
“Doo San… Can I ask you a few questions about what your doing now?”
“Whatever. Just keep the quiet.”
He stumbled over a fallen branch, “What are the rebels rebelling against?”
“The government,” I guessed, “Religion, Alliances, I don’t know.” I pulled him away from falling into a huge puddle, “There’s a million things they could be rebelling against.”
“Don’t you know?”
I glanced at him, getting more annoyed, “No.”
He raised an eyebrow, “So why are you going to raid their hideout and possibly kill some of them when for all you know, they could be rebelling against a cause that you rebel against?”
“My job is not to know, but to follow orders.”
Twon grinned, “And he doesn’t even do that well. Now. Enough talking, more walking.”
A chorus of “YES SIR” sounded out. I joined in but there was a bit more sarcasm in my words. Twon and mostly everyone else that has come across me during my year in the military had learned to ignore me.
We continued walking and started jogging once we were about 2 football fields away. I fell behind slightly and parted without being noticed by anyone besides the reporter. He followed me in confusion, asking what I was doing, but I silenced him with a simple gesture of the hand. I was only following the orders in my own fashion. The rebels would most likely count on being attacked from the back, but not by one man in the front. I placed the reporter in a bush far enough away so he wouldn’t be spotted. I ran toward the supposed hideout and ducked behind a tree to observe the place and plan out my attack. There were no visible guards since it was supposed to be a secret hideout. It was difficult to spot out an entrance and on first sight the place just looked like a giant molehill.
I ran behind a tree closer, but nobody fired at me like I expected, so I ran to another tree. Whoever these rebels were, they weren’t very prepared. Or maybe they were too smart to fire and give themselves away. There was no noise. I assumed the other guys were still looking for a way in, or they were already inside. Maybe that explained nobody being out here, either way I thought I had the advantage. Somebody should have told me that there is no advantage when it comes to war.
I ran toward the entrance. Yes. I was being an idiot, but being an idiot was my specialty and I was good at it so why not? Still, no shots were fired. The door was locked so I kicked it open, finding it sad that my need for hand-to-hand combat had to be satisfied by inanimate objects like doors.
Inside I was met by the sound of shouting from another room. I ran in absently and found myself being aimed at by a dozen guns. Perhaps I could have been more careful. A bang came from behind them and the all wheeled around, giving me the chance to kick a few weapons out of their hands, grab a woman, positioning her so I could snap her neck if need be, and aiming my gun at a man’s head. The bang was probably Twon and the guys breaking into the back.
They reached for their guns but I fired into the air, “Touch them and both of these people die. Just one simple finger on one of those guns is all it will take to set me off.
They all moved away. The ones who still had guns dropped them. Someone ran in behind me but I didn’t look away from my targets. My ears focused on whoever it was behind me. Stumbling… The reporter. “Fucker, I told you to stay where I left you.”
“I thought you could use some help.”
“Grab a gun. Shoot anyone who makes any unnecessary movements.” I ordered.
To my surprise he reached for a gun, only to be grabbed by one of the men, but before they could position him dangerously, I pointed my gun at them and pulled the trigger, immediately moving my aim back to the man closest to me so he wouldn’t have a chance to disarm me. The reporter stared at the fallen man and scrambled for a gun whilst in shock. He pointed it at somebody but I knew that if he had to pull the trigger he either wouldn’t or he’d hesitate, putting us both in danger. Honestly, that was my first kill, and I did it without so much as a blink of remorse.
“Doo San!” Twon ran in, “What are you doing?”
“Following orders,” I answered simply.
Twon growled, “I never said you could break away from the group!”
“You never said I couldn’t.” My eyes didn’t leave the men in front of me, “So Let’s look for those documents.”
“Men! Take these men and lock them up. Doo San, I’ll leave you in charge of the woman. Question her and if she makes a move, shoot her.”
I nodded and watched the rebels get herded into another room. Once they were gone, the reporter dropped his gun and sat down. I pushed the woman in front of me and watched her. Why did I watch her? To give her a chance to settle her nerves slightly so when I questioned her she’d give me real answers. Not the normal stuttering and rambling of a terrified person. She stood there before me, trembling, but she watched me back. Her eyes in a battle with mine. The woman almost stared me down.
The reporter observed us as he reached for his pen and paper. His eyes focused mainly on my actions. The way I handled things. My powerful stare was merely a cover-up. In truth, I had no idea what to ask her. I had no idea what to do. Too bad I didn’t get the chance.
She suddenly darted in one direction. At first I was amazed at how well she moved. How her thick black hair flew behind her like a cape. She reached for a gun, thinking since I didn’t shoot yet, she had an advantage. No advantages. Ever. I pulled the trigger. The woman fell to the ground, her eyes open, and a small bit of blood trickling down her forehead. It was a lot less blood then I had expected…
I stood over her. This time I had remorse. She was around my age and she was so innocent looking in her peaceful lifeless state. It felt like I shouldn’t have shot her, but if I hadn’t, she would have shot me. Or maybe she wouldn’t have. So I bent over and checked her pockets for a wallet. I wanted to know who she was. There was none, of course, only a couple trinkets and coins.
A couple men ran in behind me and started firing. Absently, I dropped my gun and faked surrender. When they lowered their guard to take me as a prisoner, I attacked with a Tae Kwon Do combo that shocked them all, making it easier for me. The reporter shot into action, manoeuvring in such a way that he was able to snatch a few of their guns. Something about the way he moved made me think he belonged on a basketball court, or even a football field.
Three of the men knew how to fight, and once they recovered from the shock, two of them lunged at me, starting off a combo of their own. Their technique was unfamiliar, and hard to block. They fought a little like Yoshimitsu only much different. They brought me down immediately but I wasn’t finished. I kicked them off me, and twisted one of their arms, practically walking on them as they stood. The other one ran at me and I did a jump kick getting him right in the face, and knocking him to the ground. He laid sprawled there, his nose bleeding profusely. The other guy grabbed me from behind and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, coughing only to be kicked in the jaw. The third guy was holding the reporter and heading for a gun. I had no time to be in pain so I jumped up and did my hunting hawk move on the guy holding the reporter, and twirled around immediately upon landing to hit the other guy with a series of kicks and finished him off with a bolt punch.
We hear clapping. Applauding. The reporter stared past me so I turned around only to see Twon standing there clapping. I hope he had a good show. Bastard didn’t even think to lend a hand. I was beginning to think he wanted me dead. It would have definitely explained a lot.
“Fuck off, Sir,” I saluted him sarcastically, grabbed my gun and walked past him, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the pain of the battle take its toll on me. The reporter followed me.
“Wait,” He said but I ignored him, “Blood Talon…”
I turned to face him, confused. Nobody in the military knew me as blood Talon. How could he have known? “Do not call me Blood Talon.”
“Why not?”
“Blood Talon would never touch a gun.”