[FIC] The Most Dangerous Game (part 3)

[dd]

Sousuke held the key in his hand, wondering if he could trust the word of the man who just left. His room would be locked after he left for any given match, with no one but himself given access. His weapons would all be safe, untampered with. Nothing would be examined, and no unfair advantages would be passed on to any other combatant.

He would trust the man’s word. Until he got a feel for the types of environment he would be fighting in, it might prove unwise to carry everything with him. Laying items on the floor, he gave thought to the best arrangement of his combat harness and zip-on ordinance packs and pockets. He would equip himself as if he faced the worst case scenario, a seasoned soldier more capable than himself.

The man, one of the charter members of this despicable club, had given him a brief run down of the game. The contestants were not all professional. Many of them had killed few if any opponents. Some were mere convicts or petty brawlers. Some were adventurers and thrill seekers. A good many had seen combat, however. And, some were men of secret notoriety---no names were divulged, however.

If you see a man, shoot the man, he had been advised. If you shoot a man, kill the man, had been the other helpful advice. The fights could very well be mano a mano in the corrupted sense of the words---one on one. They could be mano a mano in the truer sense of the words---hand to hand. He would hope to handles things from a distance, but would adapt as he must. The fights could also be a deadly version of King Of The Hill, with upwards to ten men in any arena at any given time. A Royal Rumble the club member had jokingly referred to it.

There are no points for style, the man had said. Of course, if you want to make us look good, you can put on a show, the man had laughed, and Sousuke had to refrain from shooting him. There were only a few penalties, all punishable by disqualification. Disqualification equated with death. If somehow you manage to leave the arena before the match is over, you will be punished. Sousuke had expected as much. If you use any form of signaling device---cell phone, radio, or what not---you will be disqualified. That gave Sousuke reason to sweat. He had a miniature receiver tucked well within his ear, tuned in to Kaname’s microphone. Turning it on, he heard crowd noise and an unfamiliar woman’s voice. It was worth the risk. Kaname might be able to feed him pertinent information. Any attempt to kill or injure a representative of the club would lead to immediate termination. No surprise there.

Something he heard through the microphone made Sousuke freeze. Now, let’s not be a stupid BITCH had been followed by the sound of a loud slap and an exclamation of pain. The voice continued, belittling Kaname’s attempt to sneak a steak knife off of a table. The young woman had gone on to describe just how precarious a situation Kaname found herself in. Sousuke had to fight his anger. He had to maintain his calm. A clear head was his most important weapon.

Bit by bit, Sousuke stripped away the vestiges of his humanity. He was faced with the life decision that Rainsford had been confronted by. His training and his choices would take precedent over his morals. His circumstances would force him to be discard his humble humanity and embrace gross inhumanity. Zaroff had been driven into the inhumane act of murder by his boredom. Rainsford had to be put in the place of the game he had often hunted to be able to understand its fear, and that fear pushed him beyond the boundaries of humanity. This was no game or entertainment for Sousuke. He felt no fear for himself. Love would unleash the beast within him. Kaname

I have to be cautious, he thought to himself. There is always a time when the accomplished fighter meets his match, but that did not necessarily imply the defeat of the lesser man. Serendipity may be the defining factor between evenly matched individuals. Impatience and hastiness could prove his undoing. Inspiration could be his salvation. He grew weary of thought. He was awash with purpose and determination. He wanted to get this thing done!

A message came through on the same frequency as Kaname’s microphone. It was Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin. Kurz, Melissa, and the ground troops were at the ready. They would strike immediately if Kaname’s microphone went dead or she made some exclamation that suggested Sousuke had perished. Otherwise, they would move in at precisely 1100 hours. Captain Testarossa came on the line, wishing him good luck and asking him to be careful.

One of the doors out of his room opened automatically.

************************************************************

Kaname tenderly touched her cheek. It was very sore, after having been slapped. She was red in the face, but not only as a result of Maewe’s response to her attempt at the knife. They had attracted a crowd, many of whom were laughing or smiling eagerly. To her amazement and discomfort, she and her captor were now the focus of one group of wager makers. Bastards!

It had been a clumsy and ill advised plan. She needed to do better than that. Her emotions had gotten the better of her. There was no way she could bring herself to watch the two men torn apart by the dog pack. Utter curiosity had driven her to watch some of the hunt, but she quickly went pale in the face, much to Maewe’s delight. The laughter, cheers, and the betting had all sickened her and driven her to follow her impulse. It was stupid. She was more angry at being caught than she was at making such an obvious and cliché move.

The first groups of combatants were prowling the warehouses and factory area. Maewe had given her a brief rundown on each fighter. It seemed that the girl had each profile memorized, whereas the rest of the crowd had the option to purchase dossiers on each of the fighters. Sousuke was up next, she had told Kaname. She should be happy. He should be the favorite in his first match.

Where IS Mithril? Kaname thought. Why haven’t they shown up? Didn’t Sousuke clue them in to what was going on? She kept waiting to see holes blown in the ceiling, with uniformed men rappelling down ropes, weapons blazing. Did they understand the urgency of the situation? “So, Sousuke is up next?” she asked Maewe, hoping that someone from the mercenary organization was tuned into her frequency. At the very least, her hopes and plans needed Sousuke to be listening.

Maewe laughed, noting Kaname’s trembling. “Yes. Exciting isn’t it? What scares you more, the chance that he might die, or the fact that you will see him kill to survive, all in your name?” She gave Kaname a synopsis of Sousuke’s opponent. “A rather nasty and unappealing man. His death will be a service. Of course, it will make your boyfriend a bloodthirsty killer, won’t it. It’s like virginity. You can’t go back. This isn‘t some rescue at the opera.” Sousuke’s files must be woefully incomplete.

Kaname kept her face unreadable. Sousuke was already a killer. He was not a monster in her eyes,. She prayed that the coming struggles would not change her feelings for him.

There were two things that she wanted more than anything else. She wanted Sousuke to make it through this alive. She wanted a shot at Maewe.

************************************************************

As he walked down the long and narrow hallway, the smell of the rancid water leaking between bricks only party masking the growing scent of industrial materials, Sousuke’s mind ran through the highlights of a number of memorable films. The Naked Prey. Kill or Be Killed. Run For The Sun. The Black Forest. Enemy At The Gates. He shook of such thoughts. This was no film. There would be no guarantee of a satisfactory ending. He focused on a more pertinent name. ABDULKADIR TAYYIP. Once a guard at Istanbul Prison. Fingered as one of the men who had brutalized prisoners who were members of the Great Eastern Islamic Raiders, setting off riots, hunger strikes, and hostage taking. Claimed to be a Black Market weapons merchant and a killer for hire. A man with no redeeming features.

He would take that man’s life, or leave his own life spilling onto the factory floor.

Another? This was nice to know. A second opponent had been a last moment addition, prompting an explosion of betting. CHARLES RUTHERFORD. An employee of Sandline International, the mercenary brokerage firm. He had served in a contingent of mercs sent to pacify the situation in Papua New Guinea. He had been one of the men fingered in Sierra Leone, implicated in the plot to exploit that nation’s mineral resources. His personal redemption had come during his time in Nigeria, fighting to recapture Freetown. Both a peacekeeper of sorts, and a scoundrel. The world would not miss him. A message from Mr. Kalinin came over his receiver. The Mithril data bank had a small paragraph written on Mr. Rutherford. He favored flanking maneuvers, rapid assaults, and rocket-propelled grenades.

He would cut this man’s thread short as well.

Yes. Good questions, Kaname! Careful. Do not seem too obvious. She had been joined by Mr. Segawa, Maewe’s father. Other men and women had become enamored of her once they found out she was the girlfriend of the young man about to fight. It only made sense that she would want to know about Sousuke’s opponents. Why shouldn’t she ask what weapons each man was carrying?

Ah. Mr. Rutherford had an RPG-7. Unwieldy. But, he must have some of the newly developed anti-personnel rounds. Those might be worth the hassle. He also carried an Enfield SA-80 assault rifle. Yes, different forces had used those in Sierra Leone. But, despite British armed forces claims to the contrary, there were still reliability problems with that weapon.

Mr. Tayyip had what one of the patrons identified as an old Soviet PK machine gun. Light machine gun weight, but Heavy machine gun power. A good choice for a defensive encounter, but probably a fatal mistake here. He also carried a rather large machete. A strange incongruity.

There was light ahead. He stood at the edge of the open doorway, field binoculars at his eyes. The large open expanse of the old fireworks factory contained large rusted lifting equipment and train cars. Newer construction---looking to be relocated lower income housing, temporary shelters, and huge shipping containers--provided cover and obstacles. There was a slight hint of petrol in the air. Some of the barrels scattered about the floor and large scaffolding cold contain flammable materials or toxic chemicals.

A sputtering of static heralded a message on the factory’s old overhead speakers.

ATTENTION COMBATANTS. FOR THIS ROUND, THE TIME CONSTRAINTS ARE AS FOLLOWS. FIRST KILL MUST TAKE PLACE WITHIN TEN MINUTES. FAILING THAT, ALL FIGHTERS WILL BE CONSIDERED CASUALTIES. FINAL KILL MUST THEN TAKE PLACE WITHIN AN ADDITIONAL FIFTEEN MINUTES. THAT IS ALL.

The man Sousuke had spoken with before had neglected to mention that little detail. It made sense, however. This was intended as entertainment. The audience must not be allowed to grow discontent.

It was time to move. It would not be a huge problem. He had been faced with many situations with time limits and deady consequences. The other two men faced the same limitations he did.

Sousuke’s ace up the sleeve was back in business again. Kaname would earn an island getaway if she managed to pull off this bit throughout the entire contest. She had ever so convincingly painted herself as the frantic and worried girlfriend, jumping at every shot, and filled with endless questions. They were laughing at her. But, they were answering, puffed up with their own pride and superior knowledge. Sousuke doubted anyone would catch on to the true purpose of her questions. People tend to see what they want to see and hear what they want to hear.

"But why is that large man running along the wall near those train cars? Couldn’t someone be hiding inside of those?"

"What is that small thing the other man has. It flies! Is that a portable TV he has? Is he cheating? Is someone sending him a message?"

"He’s running towards the large man with the bigger gun. He’ll probably be killed, right? Then Sousuke will only have one man to fight."

Ever so often, when Kaname saw what she thought was important, she would ask such a question. Clever girl!

Sousuke was of the opinion that Mr. Ruther ford had a miniature RPV at his disposal. That could even the playing field. If he caught sight of it, he would take it out. The two men would be occupied with each other. The perfect time to join the fray. Time to up the pressure and possibly force a mistake. If he had a clear shot, he could use the blow gun, if the situation allowed. It would not give away his position, and the poison ought to trigger a fatal paralysis almost instantly. Otherwise, until he closed the distance, the FN F2000 assault rifle would be his primary weapon. He had tear gas canisters for it, but the 40mm grenades would more likely prove useful. Nothing wrong with a little shock and awe. In close in situations, he would switch to the TMP.

The chug of the machine gun and ringing of ricochets did not raise Sousuke’s pulse rate. It had a calming effect. Yes. Battle. Time to move. Time to kill. The answering rifle fire effectively localized the mercenary. He would not play favorites.

Sousuke launched a 40mm fragmentation grenade in the general vicinity of the machine gun fire. A few seconds later, he sent another towards the area of the second opponent. He ran towards the nearest tall cover that would afford him a high view and an easy escape route.

Two explosions echoed about the room.

"Oh my. Sousuke almost got lucky there. Thirty more feet to the right and he would have gotten the bigger man. The other man ran inside that strange two story building. Why doesn’t it have a roof? Why would he go some place a grenade could find him trapped?"

Thinking briefly, Sousuke chanced two more grenades. It was worth the risk. He had a few more left, and he doubted anyone would figure out that Kaname was essentially acting as his spotter. He saw movement. Tayyip. He had cornered himself, wanting to set up on the high ground. The second grenade chased him out of cover. This would be a simple shot.

"Rocket!" Not exactly correct. But, Kaname’s warning was welcome just the same.

Without thinking, Sousuke threw himself off of his perch, jamming his left knee and opening a small gash on his left arm as he crawled quickly inside an upended dumpster. The top of his erstwhile mound of rubble exploded. Anti-personnel shrapnel peppered the side of his hiding place.

That was too close. That shot must have been set up by that damn RPV. He looked up and saw a small darting shape. He took careful aim. Three shots ended that threat. If Rutherford still been flying the thing, the second grenade must have missed.

Sousuke checked his watch. Four minutes down already. He suspected there would be an announcement if and when the first kill took place.

Closing his eyes and regulating his breath, he moved all of his limbs. No problems. He was not handicapped in any manner. Sore, yes. Limited, no. Time to move again. He would flank Rutherford if Kaname pinpointed his location.

"Why doesn’t that man charge the machine gunner. His weapon must be broken. All he has is that really big knife in his hand and that pistol. He can’t see the man if he’s over there, climbing on that rounded railroad car. Why isn‘t Sousuke attacking anyone? He can‘t be scared." It sounded as if that might be the last of Kaname’s questions for a while. The novelty of watching Sousuke on the monitors and watching Kaname while she watched was wearing off. Someone had shouted, seeing something of interest in the main arena. "You’re leaving too, Maewe? No, I want to stay here. I want to watch Sousuke…."

Time for a change of plans. Sousuke had seen the fuel car that Kaname had called attention to. It did not have a line of sight that included Tayyip’s position. It was time to buy an extra fifteen minutes. He would need to act swiftly. Rutherford could run along the top of the old train and reach any number of advantageous locations.

Sousuke ran, dodging from cover to cover. He heard the subtle clanging of metal. Tayyip had been clumsy. Over there. Near those machinist benches. Pausing by a bank of old rusted lockers used to cordon off one work area, Sousuke removed the grenade launching assembly from the F2000 and replaced it with the non-lethal package. He reached into a leg pouch and pulled out a small rebreather. Its filter ought to be sufficient.

He ran. He took a roundabout course, expecting to come up behind his opponent’s last known position. Damn! A large purposeful stack of odds and ends blocked his path, the fruit of the arena designers‘ planning. There was no time to waste. He would risk climbing. Near the top, he threw himself quickly to the side as two pistol shots caromed off the pile of junk. Sliding down the other side of the stack, he caught a glimpse of Tayyip. He sent a tear gas cannister in that direction.

Yes. Success. A loud curse followed by violent coughing. Time to finish this. Time was growing short.

The sound of retreating footsteps was punctuated by retching noises. His quarry must be frantic, unable to mount a calm and effective defense. This would no doubt temporarily change from a fight to an execution. There. There he is. Sousuke raised his rifle to his shoulder and sighted. The first shot brought the man down. The next three shots removed him from the competition.

CHECK. WE HAVE FIRST KILL. THE TIMER HAS BEEN RESET. THAT IS ALL.

No time for self congratulation. The cloud of tear gas would provide some degree of cover for another minute or so. He decided to augment that effect, firing two smoke grenades into strategic locations. Time to move. He would have to choose a direction. Having no idea where Rutherford was, Sousuke needed to locate an area with terrain advantages. Yes. There. A number of open doors must lead to smaller rooms. There would be fewer variables to deal with in that type of setting. Would Rutherford realize where he went? Would he follow if he did? There was a danger that the man would just play the clock and wait for Sousuke to come back into the open expanse. No doubt, if that was the case, the merc would situate himself in the most advantageous position.

Where was Kaname? He chided himself. There was a job to do. He would do this the old fashion way. He would earn it.

His first step into the first small room brought a boon he had not expected. A faded diagram on the wall detailed the architectural layout of the factory. The wording was too smudged and faded to make out, but that was OK. He only hoped that the aged item was authentic, and not some bit of misdirection set up by the men who ran the contest.

Yes. Good news. According to the diagram, a number of interconnected rooms, providing a welcome set of possibilities. A number of the rooms had access back into the larger area. That fact in itself might prove invaluable. Still, he had to keep an eye on the time. His own cleverness could prove his undoing if his opponent did not cooperate. He could imagine himself, with one minute left on the clock, calling the other man out like a gunfighter in the American west. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

His current location had a drawback for every advantage. He should check out the doors in this antechamber as quickly as possible. He’d hate to be taken out by a well-placed RPG round. The far doors were functional, and looked to have been oiled somewhat recently. One led to a storage closet. He did not want to get pinned down in there. Another led back out ionto the main facilities. Another still led to a large locker room, a shower area, and rest rooms. No way out of there either. A couple of doors would not give, seemingly rusted in place. The final door was welded shut. That probably led outside, or to some area the club members used for their own private purposes.

Sousuke knew that clattering sound. Grenades bouncing across a floor. MOVE!!! He jumped behind a large pile of broken and dusty office equipment, pulling the remnants of a meeting table on top of him. Two detonations went off in rapid succession, bringing a huge cloud of dust and paint fragments raining down from the ceiling. Well, it looks like Rutherford was not content to wait. Sousuke wished he had brought some plastique and an anti-personnel mine or two. The best laid plans of mice and men….

Out. He was vulnerable underneath the table and debris. Which door would his opponent come through? Did he have more grenades? Something more powerful? If he could find a barrel of petrol, would he flood the room? If the fire did not kill Sousuke, the smoke inhalation might. Time to make a decision. Wait. One of the two rusted doors was blown partially open. It was worth the risk. It had better not be another closet. Here goes nothing.

"It certainly looks like things are becoming more exciting over there." Kaname’s voice. Soon thereafter, other voices agreed with her claim. Good. "That man had grenades. That’s certainly not very sporting. He should give Sousuke a chance. Oh no. Time is running down." Well, that statement ought to swing some attention back to this encounter. How long could Kaname keep this up? Some of the more brazen observers were mocking her unmercifully. Would her pride crack? Would she say or do something that would earn herself a gag or some physical restraints. It was a very good thing that she did not likely have her halisen with her.

Run. Squeeze past that door and jump for cover. Just in time! More detonations sounded across the antechamber and its adjacent rooms. There were no lights in the room Sousuke found himself in. He quickly put on his night vision goggles. This room had a number of doors as well. Large shelves lined the wall, holding dilapidated carboard cartons and sturdier wooden crates. That smell. It was familiar. Gunpowder! The shelves held old fireworks. Could they still be viable, or had they gone bad? The air was dry enough in here. The smell was even stronger near an old wooden door.

ATTENTION. THE ROOM THAT CONTESTANT SAGARA HAS ENTERED IS CONSIDERED OUT OF BOUNDS. IF THE ROOM IS NOT VACATED IN THREE MINUTES, BOTH CONTESTANTS WILL BE CONSIDERED DISQUALIFIED.

Damn! If he left the room, he would be a sitting duck. Still, this might work to his advantage. It all rested with Rutherford.

“I am NOT coming out.” Sousuke yelled.

“Don’t be foolish. We will both die. I give you my word as an Englishman, I will leave and enter the large arena, waiting for you there.”

An inappropriate thought at the wrong time. Sousuke thought of a line from The Princess Bride, one of his favorite comedy movies. Hell. Why not. “No good. I’ve known too many Englishmen!” Let’s see if that gets him angry enough to act. No response. Paradoxically, he felt a brief surge of respect and comradery for the man he faced. He also felt a quick rush of gratitude. The man must be out of grenades and RPG rounds.

Sousuke quickly went about scattering fireworks around the floor. He broke open a number, scattering the explosive material in makeshift open fuses. He then kicked down the wooden door and entered the next darkened room. There was a huge wooden vat and large wooden paddles. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. There was no metal nearby for a good reason. The vat was the source of the odor. A quick swipe of his hand brought up coarse powder, the color of which was unknown in the faint light. Sousuke did not need to see the substance to know what it was. He did not want to stay in this room. If Rutherford would just follow me in here, though. This stuff might still be functional. How could any inspecting agency let this hazard remain? Money speaks very loudly, Sousuke surmised. Cheaper to pay a bribe or two than to foot the bill for a massive clean-up operation.

There was a door at the far end. He kicked that down too. Not a moment too soon. He checked his watch. One and one half minutes to go. He heard Rutherford curse, then heard the chatter of a submachine gun as the merc made the decision to take the attack to his unseen foe. Swinging his Steyr TMP around and off of his shoulder, Sousuke sent a wild spray of bullets at the floor of the first dark room. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than to be good….

The fireworks ignited, filling the one room with a blinding rainbow of colors and a whistling cacophony of sound. Rutherford reacted instinctually, rushing forward into the vat room, spraying his submachine gun fire across every possible area of that area.. Sousuke was no longer in that room. A grenade he had tossed into the vat still was.

The explosion knocked down most of two walls of the vat room and collapsed the ceiling. A huge cloud of smoke and dust crept into every open space.

Sousuke’s coughing was the first sign he was still alive. He had been knocked momentarily unconscious. He grimaced, suffering from a loud rush of tinnitus. He could make out Kaname’s voice, but had no idea what she was saying. Brushing himself off, he surveyed his surroundings. Had he been standing a few feet to the right or a couple of yards to the right, he would have been crushed under a great deal of cement, metal beams, and wooden planks.

IF ANY ONE MAN REMAINS ALIVE, YOU ARE OFFICIALLY DEEMED THE VICTOR. IF YOU ARE BOTH ALIVE, YOU ARE EACH DECLARED THE LOSER. ATTENDANTS ARE NOW ENTERING THE ARENA. DO NOT TAKE ACTION AGAINST THEM. Sousuke could barely make out what have been said. More because of the debris between him and the speakers than as a result of his temporary hearing impairment.

Sousuke doubted that Rutherford could possibly have survived that. His major concern was structural integrity. Hopefully nothing more would collapse. Time to find a way out of here.

His hearing was back completely now. He heard whistling and wild applause over his receiver. At least one person was not cheering. Maewe was very much upset. She wanted to know just what had triggered that explosion. How could the defining event occur off camera? Someone would have to pay for this, she groused. The betting was frenzied. Everyone wanted to know who the victor was---if anyone survived.

A single word touched his heart. He heard Kaname whisper his name.

************************************************************
End of part 3.

[HELLFIRE]

Sousuke the non-human killing machine in this corner!!

// eagerly awaits






Regards

[dd]

Well, that's round one. let me know how it reads. I may need to go back and tweak it some after stepping away from it for a bit.