(Sophia's pov) August

I glanced down the tarmac, eyeing up the streets that I once knew. The captain shut the door to the small aircraft and turned to us.

"Ladies and gentlemen welcome aboard this flight, I'm your captain Milluki. This flight should be just over five hours, food and drinks will be served when we reach 2500 feet. Thank you for flying with us and I hope you have a good flight."

Doyle simply nods, the brown wig and sunglasses covered his face and I cast my eyes to the window.

Flash back

I rolled over, glancing across the room as Doyle twists and turns his limbs. I watch as blades flip and gleam in the light. Yujiro's glorified watch dog Gerry Strydum sat at the table, turning his attention to me from time to time.

"Impressive, I'll give you that. But isn't it a little annoying having razor blades popping out all the time?"

Doyle smirks "I have sensitive micro-switches built into my hands."
I glance at my phone, content on ignoring the conversation when he speaks again "If you want to call him just call him, we'll be shipping out of here before the nights up."

My eyes flicker over to Doyle "I'm not calling him. He made his choice and I made mine."

"What? That boyfriend of yours? What's his name, Hanayama something?" Mr. Strydum exhales a cloud of smoke "I think its better this way, little girls shouldn't play around with such dangerous men."

I glare at the older male before me "Ex-boyfriend. And I hardly think I'll take dating advice from Yujiro's lap-dog."

"Now now you two," Doyle smirks, pulling his shirt over his head "be nice."

"Why are you here anyway?" I reach for my cup as he eyes my partially naked body "ain't she a bit young for you?"

I snort loudly "I'm not sleeping with him your idiot."

Doyle lights up a cigarette as well "she's my student."

"Huh, well I suppose that's a little better, but you do know he's a death row inmate, right?"

The silence in the room is deafening.

After a few moments he rolls his eyes turning back to Doyle "if everyone has the same things isn't doing all of that kinda pointless?"

Doyle smiles, standing before the man and clicks his thumb, his fist jolts forwards, blowing the general's hat to the ground. I hide a smile with a sip of my water.

"Miss?" I blink, looking at the stewardess "Would you like a drink?"

I turn to the left, noticing Doyle was gone and the clouds danced past my veiw "No, I'm fine thanks."

She nods once "Any food?"

"No, thank you, I'm alright."

I turn, looking out at the clouds and shut my eyes, the noise of the explosion still echoed through my head.

The fight had been really one sided, Doyle hit the ground for the fourth time, gagging and struggling to breathe as more blood rolled down his lips.

"You should really stay down," the male musses "I'll just keep knocking you down every time you get back up."

I knew that this was most likely one of the good guy vs bad guy fights but the amount of joy on his face was starting to mirror Doyle's when he went off his rocker.

I watch Doyle cough; his damaged throat starting to work again and take another sip of water. I watch him struggle to stand, taking in a calming breath and twist his body, the blades hidden in groves popping to life. I could feel it, that air of caution. My eyes take in the other male, watching the sweat run down his face.

He was starting to over think it.

I watch Doyle take a slow taunting step forward, my eyes flicker to the others foot, the slow slide forwards. This was it, the ending move for both of them. The next shot would determine the victor. Doyle takes another step forwards and he snaps, tossing himself forwards with a scream.

I expected some sort of flashy move. Some trick shot but the loud explosion that goes off tosses me backwards on the bed. I hear two smacks, Doyle against the wall and the other hitting the floor. I blink, swallowing roughly and lift a hand to my face, the blood smeared on my fingers.

I slowly force myself up, glancing between the two. The grenades strapped to Doyles chest were smoking, filling the air with a disgusting mix of burned flesh, blood and smoke. My eyes to find the other male, flat on his back. His face ripped apart and burned deeply. Im sure he would have been drowning in blood had the heat not cauterized it.

That was definitely going to leave a mark...

The room held a tense silence, no one wanted to say anything about what just happened. I mean really, what the hell had just happened? Explosives in a fist fight?

Mr. Strydum finally speaks, wiping the blood off his face "What you just did goes way beyond poor sportsmanship."

"Huh?"

"hidden weapons, spring loaded blades, even explosives." He walks towards him "its not a fair fight."

"A fair fight? Huh And how exactly would you define that?" Doyle continues the walk, closing more of the distance between them "tell me. Just what constitutes a fair fight?"

"You don't know? Let me put it this way. What if we started fighting and I pulled a gun on you? My chance of victory has now increased unfairly."

Doyle snorts and I didn't bother to hide my shock "whatever. That would be fine by me," his eyes flicker over to me, gaze intense and serious "if you need a gun to win then you shouldn't think twice about using one." I feel that ball return as his gaze turns to the colonel "you're treating me like I'm a fighter. I don't want to become the world champion an I'm not on some quest for fame or money. There's only one thing I want. Too be known as the strongest man in the world."

"And what does that mean to you?"

His gaze turns back to me "that means never losing to anyone."

"Then what's with all this wanting to taste defeat?"

"The sweetest defeat is when you put your heart and soul into winning, only to have the rug snatched out from under you at the last moment." His eyes flicker to the smoking mess on the floor "but as you just witnessed that didn't happen today." He leans forwards, laughing in a crazy manor "fighters are so naïve..."

After the show I just witnessed the growl that left the colonels mouth wasn't nearly as threatening as it should have been "if I could I'd launch a nuke at your cocky ass."

The laughter stops, the way Doyle snaps to attention, eyes curios and alert was down right creepy "that would be fine by me too," he takes another step forwards "but you'd have to be damn sure you could push the trigger before I'd finish you off..."

As much as I wanted to argue with Doyle he had a point. It was cowardly yes but he was standing there the victor. Letting such things as pride and appearances get in the way, that was something I couldn't afford. Not if I wanted to win. I undo my seat belt, making my way to the back of the small plane. Doyle was standing in the closed off bedroom. I tried not to think about why this plane had a bed and shut the door.

"Where are we going?"

Doyle spares me a momentary glance "A few places." he had tossed the wig on the bed "I have to pick up some stuff I gave too a friend."

"Does this friend also kill people?"

"Do you want an honest answer?" I hold his eyes for a moment and sit on the surprisingly soft bed "After we get my stuff we will be traveling for another nine hours, it would be good for you to get some sleep."

I reach on the floor, grabbing my bag with a smirk "What? you're not going to join me?"

If Doyle had seen my smirk he made no remark, simply pulled out a hunting knife from the bag. I watched him walk over to the wall, prying off the small metal speaker and reach inside. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he pulls out what I'm assuming are passports in a plastic ziplocked bag. I watch Doyle move around the room, removing things from other things, pieces of a gun for example, a cartage from the wall, the nozzle from the lamp, the spring from the light socket and the bullets from the back of a picture frame.

"What exactly did you do before death row?"

Doyle glances at me, screwing the round silencer to his gun "I was a hired gun. A hit man. A professional killer."

"So why did you get caught?"

His eyes flicker to the wall, tense silence held the air.

"I was betrayed..."

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