Thunder King

As they turned the corner, they spotted four armed men, assault rifles pointed in their direction. As they opened fire, Black Tiger dove in one direction, Crimson Tiger the other. Gunfire roared down the hall as they took cover. Crimson Tiger covered her ears. She'd heard gunfire before, but never this many at once, and never quite this loud. Black Tiger didn't seem all that bothered, which kind of shocked her. Either he was that used to gunfire, or he had a way to dull the sound so as not to bother him. “Reloading.†He said. It was all the impetus she needed. Both heroes jumped to their feet and turned towards the hallway, running as fast as they could. Black Tiger loosed the remaining three knives he still held in his hands, disarming three of the men. He went high, she went low. He leaped into a flying knee while she performed a football style tackle, a classic mounting maneuver. The entire crowd of gunmen collapsed on themselves. She punched each man in the side of the head in quick succession, knocking each of them out. Black Tiger stood, waiting patiently as she jumped to her feet. He reached down and grabbed one of the knives he threw before they stepped towards the last door.

Crimson Tiger heard the scream and uttered a Thai curse. This was not good, all cover was dropped. The scream was too high pitched to be Black Tiger's, so he must have slipped up a bit. She bolted down the hallway, spotting Black Tiger running from the other direction. “What happened?†She asked. “Broke a leg, the man screamed.†Crimson Tiger nodded. “Cover's blown, might as well make do.†He said. She spotted the knives in his hand and assumed he must have grabbed them from a kitchen, or maybe one of the hired guns. Since thrown knives were a fairly common superhero weapon, and her own chakram was hardly dull, she didn't doubt that her cousin intended to use them nonlethally. After all, there are wounds a person can survive that still really, really hurt. Look at paper cuts. She assumed that they would meet with considerably more resistance, now. That was fine with her, they had the advantage anyway.

Black Tiger, however, had already started doing so. He entered what seemed like a kitchen and grabbed a few of the knives off of the counter, not taking the time to slow down. He heard a shout, someone knew he was there. He turned the corner to see a man raise his rifle to fire, but Black Tiger was quicker. One of the knives soared through the air, scratching his hand and causing him to drop the gun. Not slowing down, Black Tiger slid into the man's leg, shattering it and causing him to collapse. The man screamed in pain before Black Tiger could stop him. He was certain that they'd hear that. Ah, well, the stealthy approach had worked for a while, and even a highly trained team of mercenaries would have trouble responding in time to become a dire threat. These guys would be lucky to muster the strength to defend against a blind man, it seemed.

It wasn't an especially large room, maybe the size of a high school classroom. Furniture was scattered around, ratty and decayed from use and abuse. She shuddered at the thought of being so out of it as to simply accept sitting or laying on the soiled, lice infested couches and chairs. She spotted two other hallways, one guarded, the other not. Her eyes scanned the roof. There, she spotted an exposed pipe. Using momentum and speed, she ran up the wall a short distance, grasping the pipe and wrapping her body around it. Slowly, inch by inch, she made her way towards the two men who, even now, were having a conversation, seemingly oblivious to the notion that anything was wrong. She let her legs hang before dropping silently behind them. One of the men turned around, and looked like he was about to speak. Crimson Tiger's fist lashed out and struck him in the midsection, turning the warning into a mere grunt as he collapsed. The other man turned around, but she slammed her fist into his face the moment he did so, sending him falling back. She couldn't hope to clean up this many unconscious people, so it was time to move fast.

Crimson Tiger slowly made her way around the corner, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Two more of the thugs stood near the hallway, facing away from her. She ran forward, heedless that they might hear her, and leaped into the air above. They turned around at the sound of footsteps, but too late. They didn't even look up as her knees slammed into their foreheads, sending them both backwards, heads knocking against the floor. She saw them, the addicts. They were strewn about the room, in various states of consciousness. How someone could sacrifice their lives for such a thing brought disgust and pity to her mind. She knew these people made that choice, but that heroin and opium were difficult habits to break. The dealers and distributors were nothing but parasites, preying on the weak minded and weak willed. Giving them drugs to waste their lives with while they lived on others' misery.

Meanwhile, Black Tiger took advantage of the sudden power outtage and made his way into the back entrance. Two men stared at the doorway, the only light in the room back-lighting an intimidating, muscular figure. Their hesitance was his victory, as he delivered a snap kick to the side of one head and an elbow to the other, knocking both men out cold before they could so much as grunt. Within moments, both men were bound. He stalked into the hallway, seeking more people to take out. The more they dealt with, the fewer threats there were in the building. Take out everyone they can before he approaches the target. He wondered, however, how Crimson Tiger was handling herself. No gunfire, no sound. Clearly meant she was doing fine on her own.

As soon as she was down the stairs, she found herself standing across from a maintenance room. She opened the door, stepped inside, and spotted a circuit breaker. “Found a circuit breaker.†She whispered into the mouthpiece. “What should I do?†“Can you fight in the dark?â€He asked. “Because I have night vision goggles.†“Like it's broad daylight.†She whispered back, pulling the main breaker down. Ah, there was the noise she was waiting for. “Stupid outtages, I'm going to go check the breakers.†A voice shouted in Thai. This was perfect. She stood by the door, quietly waiting for the man to open it. As soon as the door opened, she grabbed the first thing that appeared through it, an assault rifle. She yanked the assault rifle out of the shocked man's hands and struck him in the abdomen with the butt of the rifle before elbowing him in the back of the head. She grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him into the room. With deft hands, she disassembled the rifle. From the toolkit, she fetched a pair of zip ties and bound his arms before ripping part of his shirt off and making a gag out of it.

They parked their bikes in a secluded alleyway a few hundred feet away from the opium dealer's base of operations. It was a squat, featureless brick building, with a door on top of the roof. Black Tiger pointed at the roof. “You go up there, kick the door in, make your way downstairs. I'll go in the back door. Our target should be in one of the back rooms, guarded. Ignore any addict that doesn't get up. There's a tool kit in the bike.†She nodded and popped open one of the storage containers, revealing a small toolkit and a grappling hook. Black Tiger waited by the door, and gave the signal. She threw the grappling hook and latched it to the roof, clamoring up quickly. “Go.†He said through the radio. She delivered a fierce kick to the door, which collapsed instantaneously. She stalked down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. She heard nothing, and assumed nobody had heard her kick the door in. That was a good thing, considering their guns.

It all made sense, suddenly. Of course Anuman would cultivate that possibility. He shared the same name as the man who fought crime years ago. With Black Tiger operating in the city alongside a feared criminal overlord, and the fact that Anuman's belongings were never attacked directly. It would lead to some of his underlings and associates assuming he was using the identity to take out competition and trim anyone weak from his organization. The mere thought made Crimson Tiger angry. “I never went after Anuman's organization because it was too big, I poked at his associates weakly, but couldn't muster the strength to take the core down. After Anuman was imprisoned, they did it for me. Infighting and blame flew, people died. Someone tried to control the organization, but they failed and it dissolved under it's own weight.†So that's what happened. Mali was relieved that at least one group of opium suppliers was taken down, even though it was still an epidemic in Bangkok and much of Asia. Perhaps not as bad as it had been when her great grandfather put on the mask, but it was still a major problem. That, and it's more purified form, heroin.

“Wanted to gauge you, determine what kind of person you were. I also couldn't be absolutely certain in my deduction. Whether or not you were the one who eventually defeated Anuman wasn't a certainty. I couldn't risk my secret identity.†She didn't even have to answer back, he was right. Bangkok was, by all accounts, a city riddled with crime. That level of paranoia was somewhat rare in Freedom City, but absolutely essential in Bangkok. If anyone found out he was Black Tiger, his entire family would be dead before dawn of the next day. “Everyone assumed Anuman was Black Tiger.†He said, suddenly. “Apparently, the criminals assumed his actions were a cover for his opium ring. Black Tiger never took down the opium ring himself, he could eliminate the competition with impunity as Black Tiger. I want to remind the scum of Bangkok that Anuman is in prison, but Black Tiger remains.â€

“Are they going to be armed?†She asked, clearly not afraid, just concerned. “Probably, yes.†He answered, bluntly. “With what?†“Pistols and automatic weapons. Probably of Chinese or Russian origins. May see an AK47, may not. Lots of those weapons floating around the black market. Thugs are enforcers, used to using fists, not trained in firearms well.†He answered. She had no idea how he knew any of that, but suspected he'd been investigating this ring for quite some time. “So, did you decide to take them out when you heard I was coming to town?†She asked. “Yes, sorry about that. It's unfair, I know, but I've been trying to figure out a way to dismantle this opium ring for months. When I heard you were coming in to town, I figured I might recruit you. Deliberately started my motorcycle and revved it until you woke up. I know Crimson Tiger rides a motorcycle, I assumed you'd get curious.†“It's okay, I'd have gone along with it even if you'd brought it up to me as soon as I got to.â€

Twin motorcycles sped through the warm Bangkok night, Crimson Tiger followed her cousin, Black Tiger, who obviously had a goal in mind, even if she didn't know. “What sort of training have you done? Can you sneak?†“Yes, I'm pretty good at it.†She said. “Good, I won't bother to question your fighting skills. Anyone who can defeat Anuman is more than good enough for what I need.†“Why, what is it you need?†She asked, wondering if he'd planned to bring her along the moment he heard they were flying in for the funeral. “Opium house, lots of addicts. There's a dealer and a few thugs in there. I want to find out where he gets his stuff. If you're okay with it, I want you to take out the thugs so I can personally confront the dealer and interrogate him.†That sounded simple enough, and was well within her abilities. Still, she had questions.

Mali watched, fascinated. Fascinated by Giang's gift, and by the beauty of water in motion. The way it sparkled and shifted, the way it flowed and moved. It was as if it danced in the air. "Why do I feel like quoting Bruce Lee?" She giggled. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend. She said, in a rather poor Bruce Lee impression. "I like that quote, I remember it when I focus too much on katas and practicing, and too little on learning to adapt to the situation." "Well, anyways, I love to swim. Hard to swim with all the boys around here sometimes, though." She admitted.

"Nope, no powers. I just worked really, really hard and trained for most of my life. I was very young when my dad decided that I should learn self defense. And I did, but I loved it more than just for self defense, so I kept pushing myself harder and faster." She shrugged. It was simply the life she had lead, and had no regrets. Sure, sometimes people jeered at her muscles, or boys were intimidated by her physique, but she was being reminded, slowly, that these things weren't bad. Heck, she'd started to realize boys might actually like her, the way she was.

Mali's eyes went wide as she stared at the little ball of water. "Okay...that, that is cool." She said with a grin. She always liked seeing peoples' powers, they were so diverse, so cool. From Koshiro's awesome paper control to Indira's shapeshifting and Kristin's telekinesis, super powers were always cool to her. "How long have you been able to do that?" She asked. "If, if you want to talk about it. I mean, it's okay if you don't, I get it." She added hastily, not wanting to poke her nose where it didn't belong. She chastised herself a bit for being overly eager to get into someone's business. Luckily, GIang didn't seem the type that would be insulted, and seemed that she'd either answer the question or politely refuse.

Mali looked at the coming robots, and sighed. This was going to be a long, long fight. She bolted towards the robots and caved the chest in of one and turned and kicked the head off the other. She was doing okay, but it was clear that the rampage she'd gone on a few moments before had made her slightly sluggish, so she wasn't nearly as effective this time. She had to pace herself a bit, take a few out, but didn't feel as good for it as she had before. She just hoped her allies would be able to pick up the slack. She was disappointed in herself a bit, but shook the doubt from her mind. Have to stay focused, have to stay on the ball. Simply cannot give an inch.

Mali nodded. "The wisdom to know when to go with the flow, and when to strike with ferocity. I can appreciate that. Heck, I could learn that lesson myself, sometimes." She chuckled and looked down. It was true, she did like fighting a bit more than she wanted to, and it had gotten into a bit of trouble a couple of times in fights. It always worked out, though, because she was at least smart enough not to pick fights with people she had no chance to beat. It was important to her growth as a hero, a martial artist and a person to never become arrogant, or to assume any given foe was weak. That sort of arrogance was dangerous, and she was taught to always be mindful of that. "So what kinds of stances and techniques do you use?" She asked, always curious as to how people carried themselves in combat.

"Muay Thai teaches us to stand up for what we believe in, and to stand up for others. It is not a style for bullies or cowards, but a style for increasing one's strength and fighting for a just cause." She said with what was probably the first serious look Giang had ever said. It was obvious that Mali took the philosophy of her style very seriously. "Though it's hard not to enjoy fighting, at least a little bit." She said, slipping into a smile. "I see what you are saying. There is no point to kindness without the strength to use it. Is that it?" She wasn't sure, but she also wasn't afraid of being wrong, either.

She started the engine and felt it purr beneath her. It was a beautiful machine, lovingly and carefully crafted for this exact purpose. She revved the engine and it roared to life. This, this would be fun. It was a warm night, with a clear sky. Bangkok stretched before them, hundreds of thousands of lights sparkling off in the distance. This was a rare opportunity, a rare chance to walk the same streets her great grandfather had many years ago. She may never get it again, so she did what she usually did; dove in feet first. He reached over and handed her a small radio. “Inside your mask, lets me talk to you while we're on our bikes†He said. She nodded and placed the mouthpiece under her mask. Tarrin, no, Black Tiger, walked over to his motorcycle and swung his leg over it, he looked back and motioned his head to pull up next to him. Crimson Tiger and Black Tiger, mounted on twin motorcycles, gazed out into the city. “Let's go hit some bad people in the face.†He said, taking off, and she followed after. Continued in >Twin Tigers II: Shadow Over Bangkok

“Now, you could go back to bed, Mali. Climb back up the side of the house, pop the window back off, and go back to bed. Or, you can go get dressed, come back down, and go on patrol with me.†There was no choice, no choice at all. She dashed back up the side of the house, grabbed the small bag she stole her costume away in, and practically leaped out the window. When she got back into the garage, Tarrin pointed at a wall. “Hidden compartment, the hook with the green screwdriver.†She walked over and tugged gently on the screwdriver. The wall slid open, revealing a room, filled with equipment. Weapons, costumes, masks, tools. She changed quickly and left her spare clothing in the bag, closing the wall behind her. He was already standing there, mask on, ready to go. “Do you know how to ride a bike?†“I have a black and red one back home.†She said with a grin. “Great, you can take my other bike†He said. “Other bike?†She asked, watching Tarrin cross the room, walking over to a tarp. He pulled the tarp back and revealed another motorcycle, identical to the first. She grinned, it wasn't the Tigercycle, but it was still a damn nice bike.

“So, please don't tell anyone?†He asked, pleading. “I mean, as far as my family knows, this is just a motorcycle I built as part of a hobby.†“Well, I...I have something to confess then.†She took a deep breath. “I was the one that beat Anuman in America. I was the one who broke his knee, and I was the one who ended his drug ring. I did that because I operate in America under the name of Crimson Tiger.†The grin that broke out on Tarrin's face told her all she needed to know. “I knew it! Anuman fights you, then a few weeks later ends up in America. Then he gets beaten by a superhero while there. Your father interrupts the fight here, and then gets injured fighting Anuman.†She lowered her head in embarrassment, of course he'd been able to deduce that. Anyone could deduce that sort of thing if presented with that evidence. “Though I have another question for you, Mali.†He said. “Did you bring your costume?†She nodded, numbly. “Yes, I had to sort of smuggle it, I'm sure you understand. Couldn't bring the chakram I usually throw in costume though. Couldn't have gotten them through customs.†She said with a laugh.

She walked around the house and spotted the bike, and it's rider. It was Tarrin, dressed in all black. He killed the engine and turned around. “Mali?†“Tarrin? Wh-what's going on?†He chuckled. “Well, um, I'm going out for a ride...†“In all black?†she raised an eyebrow. “Isn't that, I don't know, incredibly unsafe?†“Would you believe it's a new sport?†“No, not really.†She then saw it, a mask. It looked similar to the one she wore, only all black. It also looked like the one she saw in pictures. Pictures of Black Tiger, her great grandfather. “You...†“Yes, I'm the Black Tiger.†he said, admitting. His vocal tone changed, subtly. As if he was discarding a disguise that, until then, he'd been wearing. “I can see that.†It was then that she realized who he looked so much like. He looked very much like a young Anuman Benjawan, her great grandfather. She got chills as she realized that beneath the friendly, outgoing exterior was the intensity she possessed herself. The selfsame fire that drove her forward and upward, that drove her to put the mask on for the first time.

Rather than stay in a hotel, the family insisted on putting them up this time. They had felt mildly insulted that their hospitality had not been used, but Annan explained that Mali had never stayed in such a luxurious hotel before, and that he wanted the excuse to spoil his daughter a bit. They forgave him, amused at this. The Benjawan family were apparently wealthy even in Thailand, and Thammaraja's home did not compare unfavorably to the hotel they had stayed at last time. Later that night, Mali was given her own bedroom. Later that night, she lay in bed, her mind filled with conflicting feelings. She was still upset over Somchai's death, of course, but she felt more comfortable in this home than she had in a long time. It was evident that none of her relatives judged her for her American behavior, and she didn't feel out of place. It was then, however, that she heard the revving of an engine, a motorcycle engine. Being a fan of motorcycles herself, she resolved to go see who owned it. But, she realized, she didn't want to wake anyone up, so she reached over and popped the window off gently before climbing out and replacing it. A few moments later, she was on the ground, dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing earlier that day.

She nodded. Anuman had been extradited to Thailand after their fight. His knee was completely destroyed, so that he would be able to walk, but not fight. He was currently facing a life sentence in a Thai prison. While he had been involved in the opium trade in the States, he had engaged in extortion, robbery, bribery, assault and other myriad crimes in Thailand. The negotiations were quick, the US surrendered him. “How did he get arrested, anyhow?†She asked, curious. “Apparently he angered one of the American super heroes, who tracked him down and beat him up. Destroyed his knee, too. He'll never be able to disrespect the art of Muay Thai by attacking an innocent again.†She was glad that no one had blamed her for what she did. She actually felt bad that she'd crippled the man, but not for long. She remembered that her father had to walk with a cane for months, and forgave herself.

“America seems like a nice place.†He said. “There are people who think America is backwards, arrogant, rude, but I don't think that. They're different. Grandfather made sure I learned that different isn't bad.†He said. “You were close?†She asked. “Yes, very, Anuman and I usually traded the job of helping him around the house. That was before he got involved in opium and got himself arrested.†Tarrin practically spat that name out, his attitude was so venomous. “I am sorry, but you fought him, yes?†he asked. There was curiosity in his words, not judgment. “...Yes, I did.†She admitted, with obvious trepidation. She knew the attitude a lot of people in Thailand had about women, especially women who fought. Muay Thai was often a man's sport, and women were heavily discouraged. Not as bad as it had once been, but still. “Ah, heard you gave him a run for his money. Taught that arrogant ass a lesson.†It suddenly became very clear to Mali that Tarrin hadn't liked him, even before his activities came to light. “You'll find no fans of Anuman here. Great Grandfather did so much to help stop the opium industry, and what does he do? Goes into the opium business.â€