Post by Gjenrei on Sept 22, 2011 23:59:06 GMT -6
----Several Years Ago----
We have a.. situation..
Garret nearly fell off his desk chair. He stared hard at me, his face a mask of annoyance.
Would you mind knocking? How did you manage to get in here anyway? This is a secure facility...
It was true. He worked for a high level security firm, whose name I cannot say, they ran security for companies that dealt with merchandise in the million dollar range, both tangible and high tech. Thusly, the building where they were housed was locked down like a prison. How I always managed to get in, seemed to surprise him. He glared at my messenger outfit (Most uniform stores will sell you one, no questions asked.)
So, what do I owe the honor?
Situation..
That got his attention. Despite being a bit of an elitist at his job, he is a humanitarian at heart.
Garret
Humanitarian
[/center]Humanitarian
What's the specs?
Target is a white male, middle aged, always wears a celtic cross in his right ear. Must be some kind of club insignia. Asset is also a white male, also middle aged, buzz cut brown hair, blue eyes, a tattoo of an angel with the name Sally on his left forearm. Also wears a necklace with a celtic cross around his neck.
Story?
Asset left his home, suspected of heavily indebted to the other man. Other man is dangerous, and will not hesitate to harm the family. Retrieve assest, stop target..
Cost?
Any..
He grins at me. For all his cushy office work, he likes to get out into the world, isn't afraid.. to get his hands dirty.
The eternal question.. do we chase our dreams, or let them come to us? If we wait too long, will they pass us by?
The question then becomes, what do you dream about?
For myself, it is quite simple on the surface. I fight, for inside the fight is the only way I believe to feel alive. It is held in my heart, that if you are not at war with death, you will not overcome it. If you run from the ticking clock, it will only catch you faster and hurtle you into the abyss. Let me pose this question to you.
How old are you, versus how old you feel?
Do you still wake up with the same youthful vigor you had when you were just a boy, and the world was new and challenging? Or does the pain, the ache, the every day strain of this sport I am certain we all love more than life itself keep you under the covers for a few more minutes?
Some people may assume that because I'm a new face to this locker room, that I am young, or fresh out of wrestling school. Neither one of those are true. I am merely the enemy, this time. I am merely the opponent, this time. And if you believe that you need to go through me to achieve your dreams..
Perhaps it is time you slept, until you found dreams worth walking through fire for.
Later that day, we met at a small cafe. He was sitting there with a folder in one hand and a Mojito in the other, as how I usually found him.
Anything?
Guys name is Albert Venta, a bookie around town. He is part owner of what was an Irish bar downtown, it converted to a members only club. That's where the Cross's keep coming from. Venta is obviously a member, as is the target. But something else I found, alongside a Gary Marshall, there was a Wendell Marshall.
Relative?
Seems like it, pulled some photos and voila..
He opened the folder, withdrew two 8 by 10 black and whites, and slid them across the table at me. There clearly was a resemblance between then two men.
Checked the into the database and they are listed as brothers.
The plot thickens..
Wendell is employed by DB Storage, a storage unit facility, and low and behold, he has not been to work in several weeks..
Interesting, I think it's..
Something in my mind nagged at me. I turned to look over my shoulder, and saw a man in a black suit quickly look away our table and back to his newspaper.
It's time we took a look into it, also.. I think we have a shadow.
Garret is a champ, and doesn't look around like a confused hen. Just casually shifts his eyes in his field of vision.
Suit.. three o clock.
Yes.
Shake him down..
Let's make sure first.
Garret stood up, and walked away from the table, making an elaborate gesture towards me in a farewell motion. He went around the side of the cafe, down the street. The man stood, discreetly, several moments later, while I pretended to watch the football game on the television. The mirror behind the bar, betrayed his discretion. As soon as he was out of sight, I stood up, paid our bill, and went around the building, down the alley, towards the street. I watched Garret pass by the alley and I knelt behind the dumpster, waiting for his shadow. After he passed, I waited.
Want to tell me why you're following me?
At Garetts sudden question, the man bolted down the alley. I cut him off with a kick that tripped him up, and before he could recover I had his hands behind his back and tied with a cable tie. Always carry some with you for emergencies, always.
I believe he asked you a question...
I ain't got **** to tell you..
Garret and I exchanged a look, and shrugged. Garett pulled a handgun from his jacket and began to screw on a silencer. The man's eyes widened in fear.
He does not want to spill your brains in the alley, so why don't you just say who sent you to follow us?
Go to hell!
You first..
Garett pointed the gun at the man's skull, and pulled the trigger. The man flinched, expecting death, but the hammer fell on an empty chamber.
Do you always forget to load your weapon?
So sorry..
Garett took an ammunition clip from his jacket, slammed it into the gun, and then cocked the weapon. He lowered it again..
Ok, ok! I'll tell you..
Works every time.
I'm a member of the Lords of Dublin, and I was told to follow your friend here because we don't like people snooping into our business.
That's a start.. What was the plan after you followed us?
If you were onto us, I was supposed to bribe you with information about the whereabouts of Wendell Marshall, then take you to an abandoned warehouse on 54th, where me and a pro hitman I hired were supposed to dispose of you.
That a fact. Tell you what, you want to live, you're going to take me to your boss.. you're going to call the hitman, tell him the job is off.. and I am him today. Understood?
Garett aimed the gun at him for emphasis, and the man shook, nodding his head vigorously.
Looks like we got some prep work to do.
Let's get started.
If you look at this as it stands, it seems that we, the faster more agile men, have the advantage in this match. In a clear race from the ring to the vaunted X, the assets of Jason Evans and Xander Famularo are all but negated.
Looks as they say, are deceiving.
What is to stop Xander from using that big right fist to render the four of us unconcious and then taking a leisurely stroll to the prize? What will deflect Jason from doing the same thing? There is a myriad of factors in place, that will mean victory or defeat, more than just raw talent, more than just speed, more than just a fearlessness unmatched by most, more than just sheer grit and determination.
This match will be won by someone who can set aside their pretenatural beliefs of what is and what is not, what should be and what can never be. This match will be won by the man who refuses to acknowledge that the prize at the end is the true goal.
I can do all of that. I ask, if you can do the same.
Xander believes he can, because he has come to terms that the fight will not be one in a day, the eternal struggle cannot be quelled in a single night. Seth believes he can because he has made promises he is so desperate to keep that he will stop at no length to do so, even turning his back on what he believed in, like he did once, ages ago. Jason believes he can because he thinks that he is the pinnacle of God's creation. He is, of course, wrong, but he is allowed to believe as such, just the same. And Caleb, will believe he can because he thinks that he does not know fear.
The fear will come.
The fear of knowing that no matter what you have done, there is always more to do.
The fear of knowing that you cannot satisfy that which will not be sated.
I am at peace with myself, therefore, I do not know fear.
I understand what I am, therefore, I do not know hunger.
I accept where I am, therefore, I do not know desire.
Match me, if you can.
He looked nervous as all hell.
Relax, this will be fine.
They'll kill me if they find out.
Then stop trying to tip them off.
Not sure if he's nervous because he's about to betray his employers, or the three half centimeter strips of semtex we wrapped around his midsection, wired to a detonater, controlled by Garett.
Well, well, well Landon, seems our little boy has come through. Jobs done?
The speaker was the man that could be identified as Albert Venta. The other man, Landon, was sitting beside him, next to another man, tied to a chair. A man I knew from the photo as Wendell Marshall.
Yes, sir.
That he has Albert.. and your friend here is the hitman?
..Yes.. sir..
Good, then you know what to do..
Venta tossed a gun towards the man next to me. He fielded it, and turned, aiming it at me.
Loose ends, and all that..
His smile was nervous, and forced, someone who was forced to do something he didn't want to do. Albert and Landon stepped back into the shadows, and soon, a car drove away, out of the open warehouse door. The two men left behind stood on opposite sides of Wendell, one retrieved a gun from his suit jacket and started to put a silencer on it. The second drew close to us, handing a silencer to my captor. I took the gun from my captor, adding a strike to the chest then an elbow to the side of his skull. At the same instant, I kicked the second man in his stomach, and threw him towards the other man, sending both crashing to the floor. The gun discharged a harmless bullet into the floor. When all three men were subdued, I untied Wendall.
We have to hurry, we don't have much time..
What is the problem?
They are going to force Gary to try and assassinate James Mayfield, he's running for state senate. We have to move! They tried to make me do it, but when I refused they kidnapped me and put it on Gary..
Wendell
Would be Assassin
The Client
[/center]Would be Assassin
The Client
Day just keeps getting better and better.