As his wrestling persona Dean Ambrose, it wouldn't have been a far fetch to see someone like that woman trying to help another woman. As Jon Good in his real self, it just seemed too far fetched to be normal.
Jon had been in a meeting, a safety meeting with the rest of the WWE superstars where every performer involved with the company was manditarily ordered to sit in on. Luckily the WWE was playing in his new home town of Las Vegas, so he didn't have to travel far to get back to the comforts of his small but comfortable apartment. Yet, in the middle of this meeting a monitor that was hooked up to the production company turned on and filmed two women.
But these were not any other women, they were women wearing black leather jackets with patches on them that meant something but Jon couldn't make out what they were wearing. But the one thing that set them apart from any other women he'd known in his life, they rode in on motorcycles. A dark blue street bike and a red more classic style motorcycle, with the Harley logo on it.
The taller of the two women was close to six feet tall Jon would have put her, dark skin with long braids pulled back into a high ponytail on top of her head. He could see instantly that she was not someone to mess with, older looking too. She wore a black tank top underneath the black leather jacket and blue jeans with what appeared to be combat boots. Her arms were big for a woman, not fat but muscled as if she was some sort of weight lifter.
The second of the two women was much smaller in height, but carried a holstered handgun against her leather clad thigh. She had on boots as well, but she wore a black sports bra and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Her black hair was cropped short, she had fair skin that was lightly touched by the sun and an oval face. She wasn't fat per se but she did have some weight to her but it was mainly made of muscle, especially her legs.
"What the hell is going on?" Vince McMahon asked as he stood next to his son in law known the world over as Triple H.
"I don't know. It must be important if the production people are doing this." The other man replied.
The two women parked their motorcycles in the parking garage that was attached to the arena, along the wall to one of the back entrances where the staff was loading things from the semi trucks. With Raw being that night, it was amazing that no one had stopped them.
"Looks like they want a show." Jon heard the taller of the two women say as she apparently spotted the cameraman.
"Probably get one if he decides to come after her again." The shorter of the two said. "Cleo, this is where we said we'd meet her, right?"
"Yeah. I'll call her." Reaching into her pocket, Tall One pulled out a simple flip screen cell phone and punched in a few numbers.
Shorty took her time looking around the area for someone, or something. Maybe get her bearings or something. Then she spotted the all too familiar picture on the side of the nearby truck trailer. It was of himself as Dean Ambrose and two other men known as Roman Reigns and Seth Rollins posing as The Shield, one of the most dominate factions that the WWE had employed as of late. She lifted up her sunglasses and swung her leg over the seat of her motorcycle and stood up, her hand coming to rest on the handle of the gun that was hanging out of the holster attached to her thigh.
"Aren't those the three men some of the others swoon over?" Shorty asked her companion.
Cleo, which apparently was her name, looked up. "The Shield, yeah. And she's not picking up."
Not taking her eyes off the large picture of the three men, the other continued. "We were only let in because of the guard, I don't think they'll let me into the building."
"It's not illegal. You have a license to carry, and it's not concealed. What would the big issue be? I know the laws."
Cleo put the stand of her motorcycle down and stood off it as well. Then she joined Shorty, who still was staring at The Shield's picture.
Jon was mildly intrigued that she was familiar with the company. From whatever universe they lived in, he was certain that they didn't know anything about wrestling.
"Do you think it's real, what they say about injustice?" Shorty asked.
"It's just a show, piece of crap show. Don't understand why the others like it." Cleo apparently wasn't a fan.
Jon could see that there was a definite age difference between the two. The black woman, Cleo, had a deeper voice, while the shorter dark haired woman had a lighter voice, angelic. She could sooth a savage beast if she did it right. She didn't sound old at all, like she was still in her early teens or something like that.
"Aegea, what do we do? She's not picking up." Cleo asked after trying to call whoever they were looking for.
The name Aegea sounded familiar to Jon, in some way but he couldn't put his finger on it. He couldn't understand, he was sure he had never seen Aegea before. Or had he? Nah, he would remember someone like her.
"We wait five minutes, if she's not out then we see about going in and getting her out."
Cleo seemed to appreciate that answer.
It nearly seemed like five minutes was so long to wait, but neither woman made any movement until one of the doors opened. It was one of the exit doors that led out into the parking lot where the two women in black leather jackets were standing. Out came a woman, from what Jon could see when the cameraman tried to focus on her. The two women turned towards her, Aegea with her hand on her gun and Cleo tense for some reason.
"Go!" The light brown woman's plea died when there was a man's yell for her to stop.
This man was someone Jon had seen in passing. He was one of the workers, but an electrical engineer that worked on the lighting rigs over the rings at the televised shows. He had always seemed professional, now he seemed demented. Hell bent on doing something to someone and Jon had no idea what was going on.
"You don't mess with the Amazons." Jon glanced at the Las Vegas native known as Ryback. "You don't mess with the people who call on them for help."
There had been talks of a wide spread biker gang of supreme feminist women acting like Hell's Angels almost. They called themselves The Amazons. But other than that, Jon still had no clue as to what their real motives were. If they even had one at all.
The man that was chasing the woman stopped when Cleo put her arm around her shoulders and Aegea put herself between the woman and the man.
"Are you the husband?" She asked.
He looked down at her. "I'm Kevin Birch, I'm Clair's husband. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Protecting our own kind. She contacted me."
Aegea had no emotion, or if she did she was masking it. Her hand was still on the holstered gun on her thigh and her aviator sunglasses hid her eyes.
"You? Why?" His lips turned up as if he thought something was funny.
"Five broken bones in three years isn't something to smile at."
His smile fell. "I never put my hands on her!" This Kevin guy yelled, taking a threatening step closer to her.
"And yet you denied an unborn child to live."
Did she just say that? The thought of a man forcefully terminating a woman's pregnancy was something that made a lot of the divas gasp at in the meeting area. Even a quick glance at Vince McMahon, Jon could see that he was not amused.
"It probably wasn't mine. So who cares? She's been sleeping around with who knows what." Kevin was slowly starting to boil over in anger.
Aegea made no movement, she didn't look threatened. Actually she didn't look like she had anything to fear.
"Who is at fault is the man that can end a living being's life without thought for the safety of his wife. She's tried to get a divorce from you but you seemed to know what to say to get her back to your bed, and under your thumb. She wants out and she had to go to us for help. So, let me point something out to you, Kevin Birch, Amazons take care of our own kind, the female kind. So the next time you hear from Clair, you will be hearing from her victim's advocate and a divorce lawyer. Until then, let's see how long you have a job." She nodded towards the cameraman.
Aegea turned towards Cleo and Clair, made a hand motion. Clair was now wearing a motorcycle helmet and two steps from Kevin he shoved the woman. He had taken his anger out on someone that had done nothing to him. As she braced herself with her right leg, she pivoted around and looked at the man who was preparing to punch her.
Jon stiffened up, expecting Aegea to let the man's fist connect with her head. Only that didn't happen. She dodged, pulled her gun and had it out at him in an expert sort of way. A stance that seemed familiar to him. Her legs spread out, both her hands on the gun and looking down the barrel at the man.
"I've shot one man in my life, don't be the second one."
There was an audible click as Cleo walked forward with her own gun drawn. "We have rights, too, you know." She said. "We carry guns as protection from men like you. I don't think you're in any position to fight back. You attack one of us the other is putting a fucking bullet in your head."
"Your options are simple, really, leave Clair alone. Let her get the divorce and move one with her life. Or you'll be bleeding to death, killed like the fetus you killed. Those are your options. All we have to say is self defense."
Who the hell were the Amazons? What was their purpose in this life? Jon had seen the guns. Never had he met a woman that openly carried a gun or one that threatened death on a man. He felt like he understood, like there was something going on in his brain that was telling him that this woman was familiar in some way but he didn't know.
Aegea and the woman got on her motorcycle, Aegea helping her up behind her as if she were riding a horse. Cleo got on her motorcycle and they backed up and turned to head out of the garage, out of view of the camera.
"Dude, I hope we never have to deal with them." John Cena said. "Those are some crazy bitches."
"You don't mess with the Amazons." Ryback said making the older wrestler look at him. "Those two are from the Sin City faction. It just so happens that the Las Vegas run Amazons were the first to be established back in the fifties. Men are not allowed into their ranks. They only use men for one thing and that's sex. Otherwise, if you fuck up then you're probably as good as dead."
"Shit." Cena mumbled, shaking his head. "Still, I will throw a fit if we ever have to deal with them."
CM Punk spoke up. "Doesn't the tall black chick look like Michonne from The Walking Dead?" Of course he would put those two people together, Jon rolled his eyes at what Punk had said.
But Jon wouldn't mind working with them.
The Amazons meant crazy business and crazy was exactly what Dean Ambrose was after all.
Jon Good could deal with a little crazy.
This is just a taste of the story that I have worked a long time on for you guys. It's a new lo
ok on some of the issues that I have written in my other stories but also talking about things that I haven't written about. This is beyond my comfort zone and I hope you guys can bear with me when the parts come along.
