Surge
Click. Point. Pull.
Crack. Bang. Boom.
Three shots. Three bull's eyes.
A smirk flitted across his face. He still had it. Lieutenant Surge placed his pistol on the counter in front of him and removed the large, heavily padded ear muffs from his head. He set these next to the pistol on the counter.
Fifteen long years it had been since he had fired a shot in service to a cause. Nowadays he did simply out of fondness for his past and his homeland.
Sighing, the forty-three-year-old war veteran packed up his equipment, making sure the pistol was devoid of any remaining shots, and made his way to the front room of the firing range. After offering a small wave to the man at the counter, he placed a pair of sheer black shades over his eyes as he pushed open the plate-glass door and stepped out into the mid-morning chill.
The spring-time sun washed over his face as he walked ([i]All the better to have the shades[/i], he thought). It was a short distance to his truck, made all the shorter by the wide strides associated with height, and thus long legs, he took. A light breeze ruffled his medium-length hair as he walked; he was due for a cut soon.
Upon reaching the vehicle, he wasted no time piling his briefcase into the passenger's seat. He slammed the door shut out of habit and made his way around to the driver's side. As he reached for the black plastic handle, a voice approached from behind, coupled with the heavy slaps of leather boots.
“Alexander Damien Surge, born in Nimbasa City, Unova. Age forty-three, former First Lieutenant in the United States army, now retired. Lives in Vermilion City, Kanto. That sound about right?” The voice was gruff, overtly Russian, and even vaguely familiar...
His mind kicked into overdrive. Over one-hundred distinct methods of incapacitating an opponent ran through his head as his hand slowly dropped from the door handle and to the knife he kept sheathed and hidden in his pocket.
“Yeah... and who might you be?” he said as he slowly turned around to face the stranger, his grip secured around the knife.
Surge saw a man who looked to be about his age, at least from what he could see; the man had a ball cap pulled down over his face ([i]Why does everyone have a ball cap these days?[/i]). A smile spread across the stranger's face as he slowly lifted the cap from his face, revealing warm features dusted with a graying goatee and mustache.
“What? You do not recognize your old friend?”
Surge's grip loosened around the knife as the man walked up and lightly embraced him. He gave a quick squeeze in return.
“Sergeant Kravich? What are doing here in Japan?”
“It's 'Captain' Kravich, now. I just thought I would check up on you, since nobody has heard from you in quite some time.”
“Oh... Well, congratulations on the promotion, and thanks for the thought, but I assure you I'm just fine.” Surge turned back to his vehicle and made to enter when he felt his former army mate's hand on his shoulder.
“What? You are not happy to see your old friend?”
Surge let his grip on the door handle slacken and fall to his side. “No, no, it's not that, it's just... Hell, I don't know.” He turned back around to face the former Russian and lifted his arm to gaze at his watch. “It's about time for lunch... Here, why don't we go someplace and catch up?”
“That would be good.”
The two of them climbed into the truck (Surge moved his gun case to a small space between the seats to make room) and pulled out of the parking lot, and were soon heading downtown.
“So, you're the guest. What're you thinking?” Surge inquired after a few minutes of driving around aimlessly.
“Ah... Something simple, this Japanese food doesn't sit well with my stomach. A burger joint, perhaps?”
Surge glanced quizzically over at the foreigner from behind his sunglasses. “You do realize how unlikely it is that we'll find a burger joint around here, right?”
“There's bound to be one around here someplace. We'll just have to keep our eyes open.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes they chanced upon a simple, American-style fast food restaurant. Just minutes later, they had acquired their food and were sitting in a booth, chowing down.
“So,” said Surge between bites, “how's Cecilia?”
“Oh yes, Cecilia. She's uh... She's doing well. She is working in a law firm these days. She once said it was her life's ambition, you know? So, yes, I'm very happy for her.” The Russian looked away from Surge as he said this. He seemed preoccupied, like there was something he was dying to say, but couldn't find the moment to do so.
“Hmm. Well, that's good for her.” Surge took a large sip from his soda. “You know, I'm surprised you two haven't settled down someplace yet. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?”
Kravich glanced back at Surge momentarily, before taking another bite form his burger. “Yes, well... I don't know. I suppose it's mostly my fault. I don't do so well with commitments. As much as I would like to get married, buy a house somewhere, and raise a family, I can't find the will to take that first step, you know?”
“Can't say I do. It must have taken quite a bit of commitment to make it to where you are in the army, didn't it?”
“This is different. You'll find yourself a woman someday, Surge, and you'll see just how differently your brain works when it concerns them. As you well know, I have faced strong men and monsters without flinching. Yet face me with a woman, and I am like a child.”
Surge took a moment to think on Kravich's words, nodding as they poured into his ears. Kravich was a strong man, a proud man. It must have taken an incredible amount of courage to tell him that. Deciding to change the subject, he took a glance around the room, taking in the far-off, but still familiar, sights, sounds, and scents. Most people in the restaurant were white or black, though there was an occasional Asian cautiously testing his food.
“This place really takes me back. It'd be nice to see America again.”
Kravich found his moment. “Funny you should mention that, actually.”
“Why's that?”
“I've been thinking... You know as well as I do of the unrest in other parts of the world. It is smelling like there will be war soon. And that made me think... I would like to fight by your side again, Surge.”
This hit Surge like a cattle prod. He had never considered going back to the army. “Geez, I-I don't know. I have so much of a life here, I don't think I could ever just give it up so easily.”
Kravich's face fell, but he retained his confident demeanor. “I understand,” he said, removing a pen and paper from his pocket. He quickly scribbled down a number and handed it to Surge. “It would be rude of me to expect an immediate answer. Here's my cell number. Why don't you think on it for a while, then tell me what you think?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. I mean... Yeah.”
They quickly finished their meal and went outside to the truck. Kravich told Surge that he could just take a cab, but Surge insisted on ferrying him back to his hotel. When they arrived, a brief goodbye was made, and Surge headed back to his house above the gym.
For the rest of the day, Surge went about his routine normally, only occasionally giving the matter any thought.
When twilight drew near, Surge found himself in the shower. Any other part of the day, he would be working out, dealing with gym business, or dealing with some other trivial matter that required all of his attention. It wasn't until the day was almost over that he ever had time to think. And now, he had a decision to make...
He could hardly deny one of his closest friends such a simple (relatively, at least) request, even if they had not spoken in years. The very fact that Kravich had come in person spoke wonders for the devotion the Russian held to his former CO. He still had family back in the States, as well, that he would love to visit, if only briefly.
But he couldn't well just up and leave everything he had here behind. The League would be without Gym Leader for quite a while, potentially placing a plethora of challenges on hold. And the other Leaders would be without a friend...
He finished rather quickly and toweled himself off. It was too big of a decision to make in one night.
After he finished drying and dressing, he sat in a reclining chair in his living room, reading a magazine just to let his mind wander from the monolithic choice that faced him.
As he read, he heard a squeaky, if deep and rough, call sound throughout the house. In moments, he felt a great weight on his legs: Raichu had done its best to curl up in his lap. He lightly stroked the rodent's fur, reliving the times they had spent together in the army. Raichu had been such a tough and energetic companion then, but now... the rat found it difficult to last an entire battle. The Electric-type was getting old.
Surge would never be able to go back to the army without Raichu, that he was sure of. He lifted the rat from his lap and stood, placing the Pokemon back on the chair. He silently made his way to the phone and dialed the number from the paper he had received earlier. In moments, the recipient picked up.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“It's me, Surge.” he said lightly.
“Ah, excellent. I didn't expect for you to get back to me so soon! What have you decided?”
“I can't do it, Kravich. I'm sorry.”
There was silence on the other end for several moments. A sigh came through the line. “Well, I suppose that's that, then. It would have been wonderful to have you serve under me, but I suppose I cannot force your hand. ...What made you decide to stay?”
“It was Raichu. He's getting on in years. It just wouldn't be the same without him.”
“I understand. Well, you have my number now. Be sure to keep in touch, won't you?”
“Yeah... plus... it would be much better for my sanity to stay here. I think going back to the States after all this time would just be too much of a culture shock.”
Crack. Bang. Boom.
Three shots. Three bull's eyes.
A smirk flitted across his face. He still had it. Lieutenant Surge placed his pistol on the counter in front of him and removed the large, heavily padded ear muffs from his head. He set these next to the pistol on the counter.
Fifteen long years it had been since he had fired a shot in service to a cause. Nowadays he did simply out of fondness for his past and his homeland.
Sighing, the forty-three-year-old war veteran packed up his equipment, making sure the pistol was devoid of any remaining shots, and made his way to the front room of the firing range. After offering a small wave to the man at the counter, he placed a pair of sheer black shades over his eyes as he pushed open the plate-glass door and stepped out into the mid-morning chill.
The spring-time sun washed over his face as he walked ([i]All the better to have the shades[/i], he thought). It was a short distance to his truck, made all the shorter by the wide strides associated with height, and thus long legs, he took. A light breeze ruffled his medium-length hair as he walked; he was due for a cut soon.
Upon reaching the vehicle, he wasted no time piling his briefcase into the passenger's seat. He slammed the door shut out of habit and made his way around to the driver's side. As he reached for the black plastic handle, a voice approached from behind, coupled with the heavy slaps of leather boots.
“Alexander Damien Surge, born in Nimbasa City, Unova. Age forty-three, former First Lieutenant in the United States army, now retired. Lives in Vermilion City, Kanto. That sound about right?” The voice was gruff, overtly Russian, and even vaguely familiar...
His mind kicked into overdrive. Over one-hundred distinct methods of incapacitating an opponent ran through his head as his hand slowly dropped from the door handle and to the knife he kept sheathed and hidden in his pocket.
“Yeah... and who might you be?” he said as he slowly turned around to face the stranger, his grip secured around the knife.
Surge saw a man who looked to be about his age, at least from what he could see; the man had a ball cap pulled down over his face ([i]Why does everyone have a ball cap these days?[/i]). A smile spread across the stranger's face as he slowly lifted the cap from his face, revealing warm features dusted with a graying goatee and mustache.
“What? You do not recognize your old friend?”
Surge's grip loosened around the knife as the man walked up and lightly embraced him. He gave a quick squeeze in return.
“Sergeant Kravich? What are doing here in Japan?”
“It's 'Captain' Kravich, now. I just thought I would check up on you, since nobody has heard from you in quite some time.”
“Oh... Well, congratulations on the promotion, and thanks for the thought, but I assure you I'm just fine.” Surge turned back to his vehicle and made to enter when he felt his former army mate's hand on his shoulder.
“What? You are not happy to see your old friend?”
Surge let his grip on the door handle slacken and fall to his side. “No, no, it's not that, it's just... Hell, I don't know.” He turned back around to face the former Russian and lifted his arm to gaze at his watch. “It's about time for lunch... Here, why don't we go someplace and catch up?”
“That would be good.”
The two of them climbed into the truck (Surge moved his gun case to a small space between the seats to make room) and pulled out of the parking lot, and were soon heading downtown.
“So, you're the guest. What're you thinking?” Surge inquired after a few minutes of driving around aimlessly.
“Ah... Something simple, this Japanese food doesn't sit well with my stomach. A burger joint, perhaps?”
Surge glanced quizzically over at the foreigner from behind his sunglasses. “You do realize how unlikely it is that we'll find a burger joint around here, right?”
“There's bound to be one around here someplace. We'll just have to keep our eyes open.”
Sure enough, within a few minutes they chanced upon a simple, American-style fast food restaurant. Just minutes later, they had acquired their food and were sitting in a booth, chowing down.
“So,” said Surge between bites, “how's Cecilia?”
“Oh yes, Cecilia. She's uh... She's doing well. She is working in a law firm these days. She once said it was her life's ambition, you know? So, yes, I'm very happy for her.” The Russian looked away from Surge as he said this. He seemed preoccupied, like there was something he was dying to say, but couldn't find the moment to do so.
“Hmm. Well, that's good for her.” Surge took a large sip from his soda. “You know, I'm surprised you two haven't settled down someplace yet. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?”
Kravich glanced back at Surge momentarily, before taking another bite form his burger. “Yes, well... I don't know. I suppose it's mostly my fault. I don't do so well with commitments. As much as I would like to get married, buy a house somewhere, and raise a family, I can't find the will to take that first step, you know?”
“Can't say I do. It must have taken quite a bit of commitment to make it to where you are in the army, didn't it?”
“This is different. You'll find yourself a woman someday, Surge, and you'll see just how differently your brain works when it concerns them. As you well know, I have faced strong men and monsters without flinching. Yet face me with a woman, and I am like a child.”
Surge took a moment to think on Kravich's words, nodding as they poured into his ears. Kravich was a strong man, a proud man. It must have taken an incredible amount of courage to tell him that. Deciding to change the subject, he took a glance around the room, taking in the far-off, but still familiar, sights, sounds, and scents. Most people in the restaurant were white or black, though there was an occasional Asian cautiously testing his food.
“This place really takes me back. It'd be nice to see America again.”
Kravich found his moment. “Funny you should mention that, actually.”
“Why's that?”
“I've been thinking... You know as well as I do of the unrest in other parts of the world. It is smelling like there will be war soon. And that made me think... I would like to fight by your side again, Surge.”
This hit Surge like a cattle prod. He had never considered going back to the army. “Geez, I-I don't know. I have so much of a life here, I don't think I could ever just give it up so easily.”
Kravich's face fell, but he retained his confident demeanor. “I understand,” he said, removing a pen and paper from his pocket. He quickly scribbled down a number and handed it to Surge. “It would be rude of me to expect an immediate answer. Here's my cell number. Why don't you think on it for a while, then tell me what you think?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. I mean... Yeah.”
They quickly finished their meal and went outside to the truck. Kravich told Surge that he could just take a cab, but Surge insisted on ferrying him back to his hotel. When they arrived, a brief goodbye was made, and Surge headed back to his house above the gym.
For the rest of the day, Surge went about his routine normally, only occasionally giving the matter any thought.
When twilight drew near, Surge found himself in the shower. Any other part of the day, he would be working out, dealing with gym business, or dealing with some other trivial matter that required all of his attention. It wasn't until the day was almost over that he ever had time to think. And now, he had a decision to make...
He could hardly deny one of his closest friends such a simple (relatively, at least) request, even if they had not spoken in years. The very fact that Kravich had come in person spoke wonders for the devotion the Russian held to his former CO. He still had family back in the States, as well, that he would love to visit, if only briefly.
But he couldn't well just up and leave everything he had here behind. The League would be without Gym Leader for quite a while, potentially placing a plethora of challenges on hold. And the other Leaders would be without a friend...
He finished rather quickly and toweled himself off. It was too big of a decision to make in one night.
After he finished drying and dressing, he sat in a reclining chair in his living room, reading a magazine just to let his mind wander from the monolithic choice that faced him.
As he read, he heard a squeaky, if deep and rough, call sound throughout the house. In moments, he felt a great weight on his legs: Raichu had done its best to curl up in his lap. He lightly stroked the rodent's fur, reliving the times they had spent together in the army. Raichu had been such a tough and energetic companion then, but now... the rat found it difficult to last an entire battle. The Electric-type was getting old.
Surge would never be able to go back to the army without Raichu, that he was sure of. He lifted the rat from his lap and stood, placing the Pokemon back on the chair. He silently made his way to the phone and dialed the number from the paper he had received earlier. In moments, the recipient picked up.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“It's me, Surge.” he said lightly.
“Ah, excellent. I didn't expect for you to get back to me so soon! What have you decided?”
“I can't do it, Kravich. I'm sorry.”
There was silence on the other end for several moments. A sigh came through the line. “Well, I suppose that's that, then. It would have been wonderful to have you serve under me, but I suppose I cannot force your hand. ...What made you decide to stay?”
“It was Raichu. He's getting on in years. It just wouldn't be the same without him.”
“I understand. Well, you have my number now. Be sure to keep in touch, won't you?”
“Yeah... plus... it would be much better for my sanity to stay here. I think going back to the States after all this time would just be too much of a culture shock.”