Chapter 2
The club was certainly busy, even for a Saturday night. The building was full of people dressed in their most glamorous clothing, looking to impress either their loved ones or society in general (or both). The band played a fun and relaxing tune that was just audible under the sounds of friendly chatter and jovial laughter.
Off in a quiet corner of the bar, Guile sat alone. For months he had been coming to this club, where he’d stay for a few hours, and slowly nurse a bottle of beer the whole time. Though he was no longer active military (his reaction to Charlie’s death deemed him psychiatrically unfit for duty), he still wore his neatly pressed dress uniform whenever he came to the club. People sometimes approached him; from unattached women looking for a dance partner (“You look rather lonesome. Need some company?”), to men wanting to ask about warfare (“How many Krauts you killed?”). Without fail, he had dismissed everyone who approached. They eventually stopped trying, and he’d been left alone with his thoughts for the past few weeks.
A sudden hush moved through the crowd. Curious, Guile turned around as a stunningly beautiful newcomer arrived. She wore a light blue silk dress that matched her eyes, and her blonde hair was neatly woven in braids. A long, pink scar ran up the middle of her left cheek. Most interestingly, she had her eyes set on Guile, and she was walking straight toward him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” the woman said with a high-class British accent. She took a seat next to Guile, and ordered a drink from the bartender.
“Do I know you?” Guile asked.
“I don’t believe you do, Major.”
“I’m no Major. I’m not even a soldier anymore.” He looked back to his beer.
“And yet you still wear the uniform.” She turned away briefly as the bartender brought her drink, and then turned back to Guile. “My name’s Cammy White.”
“A pleasure, I’m sure.”
“Most seem to think so.” She peered at Guile as she sipped her drink.
Tired of the woman’s incessant stare, Guile let out a sigh and asked, “Look, is there something I can help you with?”
“As a matter of fact, Guile, there is something. Adolf Hitler has found himself a new scientist: M. Bison of Shadaloo. I understand you’re familiar with him.”
Guile said nothing in response, but he furrowed his brow and his frown grew heavier.
“Our governments are putting together a team to find out what they’re doing and stop them. Chun-Li told us you could help.”
“Chun-Li sent you, huh?” Guile chuckled softly, shaking his head. “She should know better than anyone else that I’m no help against Bison.”
“She seems to believe otherwise. I’m inclined to agree with her.”
“And what makes you say that?”
Cammy smirked and stood up from her stool. “Dance with me, Guile.” She reached her hand out to him.
“I think you’d be happier with another partner, Miss White.”
“I can decide that for myself, thanks.” Cammy kept her hand out, looking at him expectantly. With a sigh, Guile finally stood and took her hand, which he found was pleasantly soft.
Cammy smiled brightly and tugged him to the dance floor. Many eyes followed them, some astonished by the recluse finally coming to join the crowd, others mesmerized by the low backline of Cammy’s dress. The band began playing a slow waltz as they arrived, and the two began to dance.
“There, now is this so bad?” Cammy teased with a grin.
“No, it’s not.” Guile was silent for a moment. “What else can you tell me about Bison?”
“He’s been recruiting over the past few years. We have reason to believe that he’s been weakened, and he’s looking to restore his Psycho Drive.”
“And he plans to use Hitler as the means to that end.”
“That’s what Chun-Li’s suggested, yes.” She quieted for a moment, and her smile faded away. “We’re being watched.”
Guile nodded silently, then turned and dipped Cammy, his eyes darting around the club.
“One of Bison’s new officers is an American crime lord,” Cammy whispered into his ear as she brought her body scandalously close to Guile’s, “a man called ‘Balrog.’”
“We’d better leave.”
“That’s a good idea, I think. Once this song ends, of course.”
They continued dancing for the next minute or two of the music, neither of them saying anything. Guile counted five men he didn’t recognize who seemed to be watching them, plus three others whom he guessed were better at subtlety than the first five. He felt his adrenaline beginning to rush already, but his head remained clear, thanks to his fighting experience.
When the song ended, Cammy pulled him away from the dance floor, hugging his arm and smiling brightly. Guile tried to put on a similar front, though his forced smile wasn’t exactly the most charming sight.
The bartender waved to them on their way out. Guile simply nodded back to him, noticing his pencil-thin mustache and athletic build.
Guile stopped. Wasn’t the bartender a portly, clean-shaven man?
“Get down!” he shouted, pushing Cammy to the floor as the “bartender” pulled out a tommy gun, cackling as he squeezed the trigger.
“Sonic Boom!” Guile roared as he threw a wave of energy at his assailant. The incoming bullets all melted as they met the blast, and it continued undeterred until it collided with the gunman. He flew back into the shelves and racks, where he was showered with breaking glass bottles and alcoholic beverages.
“Cannon Spike!” Cammy called as she jumped from the ground, kicking a second assailant in the face. She landed perfectly on her high-heel shoed feet, one side of her skirt now torn and revealing a healthy amount of her leg.
More attackers rushed them, and Cammy and Guile stood back-to-back.
“I see seven of them. No guns,” Cammy informed him.
“Same on this side.”
The assassins came with knives and clubs, but they were of no use against the two heroic fighters. Guile easily evaded and countered their strikes as Cammy handily disarmed and disabled her attackers. Their punches, kicks, throws, and grapples proved too much for the villains, and before long they all lay unconscious on the floor, the club’s patrons all frozen in shocked silence.
“Are you okay?” Guile asked Cammy, who nodded and confirmed the same in return.
“Not bad, kids. Not bad,” said a deep and sinister voice. The heroes turned to see a very large man entering the club. His bulging muscles were clearly visible through his fancy suit, which was contrasted by the red boxing gloves he wore. “I thought this evening was gonna be boring.”
“Who are you?” Guile demanded, both he and Cammy retaining their fighting stances.
The newcomer sneered. With a loud roar, he flexed every muscle in his body, which rent his suit asunder, beneath which he wore a boxer’s uniform. Another group of his vile criminal minions came to his side.
“Call me ‘Balrog’,” the man said, grinning maliciously. He lunged straight for Guile as his lackeys charged Cammy.
Guile blocked Balrog’s first few blows, but the boxer’s assault was much stronger than the soldier had expected. Balrog broke through Guile’s defense and struck him squarely in the jaw. Guile spat blood from his mouth, shooting a glare at his foe.
“Big mistake,” he growled, throwing a vicious kick at Balrog’s head. Balrog blocked the first kick, but was unprepared for the second blow to his stomach. As he doubled over, Guile uppercut him in the chin, knocking Balrog fell to the floor.
“Stinkin’ cheat,” he spat, getting himself back to his feet.
“Kicking isn’t cheating, son. You should try it sometime.”
Roaring like a bull, Balrog rushed Guile and threw a barrage of punches, headbutts, and bites. Guile managed to defend himself from any injury, but he knew the situation was getting desperate.
“Your kicks can’t save you now!” Balrog boasted as reared his arm back, focusing energy into his fist.
“Flash Kick!” Guile bellowed. A bright flash of energy enveloped his feet as he backflipped, the heels of his boots striking Balrog’s chin, knocking him straight off his feet and sending him flying.
“My bike money!” Balrog’s voice echoed through the club as he crashed through the front door.
“Not bad, Guile. I’m impressed,” Cammy remarked as she brushed off her palms and straightened her hair, a pile of unconscious evildoers at her feet.
“You did some good work yourself.”
Cammy beamed a smile. “So, will you help us? This doesn’t seem like a good place for you to be anymore.”
Guile was silent for a moment. He knew that he’d always wanted a chance to get back at Bison, and it certainly seemed the madman had it out for him. He turned back to Cammy.
“I’m in.”
