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Sketch raised his hands in the air. "Look Osca, if you'se is gonna fight us, fight fair! Wolf was da one wit' da gun. Now he's gone an' yer da only one wit' one. You was on da streets long enough ta know dat dis here ain't a fair fight. C'mon, I know ya kin be reasonable 'bout dis." Sketch said firmly. Oscar eyed him and the gun lowered a half inch. "So what if I kin be reasonable? What den? What would you suggest?" He asked. Sketch looked back at Jade, who nodded. "We want it ta be a fair fight. Wit' fists. No weapons." He said. Oscar laughed harshly. "In case ya haven't noticed, yer little leada blew me arm out. An' plus dey'res more of you'se dan me." He said sarcastically. Sketch nodded and took a step forward. "C'mon Osca, you ain't foolin' me. I know you got yer cronies hidden all ova da place. Let dem do da fightin' fer ya." Oscar laughed, and this time it was void of harshness. "Yer smart kid. I'll give ya dat." He said, snapping his fingers. At the sound, men seemed to leak out of the very walls, surrounding the group. Sketch furrowed his eyebrows as he heard Jade suck in her breath.
"Okay den Osca. If dats da way ya want it. But make sure dat dey git rid of dey're weapons. No tricks. Dis is gonna be a fair fight." Sketch said firmly. Oscar raised his eyebrows and nodded to the men behind him. The men eyed him, but still tossed their weapons aside. Sketch watched them as they did so. They weren't only men, teenage boys were also mixed in among them, many no older than Sketch, but still as determined. Finally when all the weapons lay in a large pile on the floor, Oscar nodded at Sketch. "You ready ta duke dis out?" He asked quietly. Sketch turned around to glance at his companions. Quincy and Raven nodded, Angel did the same. Jade looked at him and in the depths of her green eyes, Sketch saw her fighting spirit surface. Sketch turned back to Oscar and nodded.
Oscar raised his hand, waited a few seconds, then snapped his fingers. The mixture of men and boys raced at them fiercely. As soon as one of them came in contact with her, Jade smacked the unfortunate one with an angry fist. He fell sprawling. The fight began to get intense, men and boys fighting as fiercely as the small Newsie band. Soon both sides began to weaken, but Oscar's men had the upper hand. Just when Sketch began to have second thoughts about getting into this fight, a flash of light from the doorway caught his eye. He punched the unfortunate in front of him and squinted in the light. Four figures stood in the doorway, one with familiar broad shoulders.
His breath quickened and his pulse raced as the former leader of Brooklyn, his father, stepped into the midst of the brawl. A warning yell sounded out, causing Sketch to whirl around just in time to see the hulking man running at him. Quickly, he ducked, the man flying over his head. A large hand smacked him on the back, and Sketch looked up into the gray eyes of Spot Conlon. "Papa, I, I didn't mean," He stuttered. Spot put up his hand. "Don't worry 'bout it. We'll tawk 'bout it lata. Right now we got business ta attend ta." Spot said with a grin. Sketch laughed as he looked around him. "Who'd ya bring?" He yelled over the hubbub, as he turned from his father to rejoin the fight, his father doing the same. "Aw, no one big, jest Race an' Bright Eyes an' yer Wolf friend. But still, nothin' but da best I guess." Sketch frowned and turned around to see his father kick a boy across the room. "Mama ain't here?" He asked.
Spot colored and punched another man in the face. "Naw, she's wit' Gabriel." He said. Sketch's mouth dropped open. "Ya didn't tell her?" He said, his voice filled with disbelief. Spot shrugged. "So? Do I hafta invite yer mudda ta every fight I git mixed inta? I mean seriously, I'd like ta have me moment of glory widout yer mudda showin' me up every time!" Spot said defensively. "You are so gonna be dead!" Sketch laughed loudly. "You jest shudup an' fight boy!" Spot said gruffly, but with a twinkle in his eye. From that point on, the fight was basically over. Once many of the men, many former Newsies themselves, caught sight of Spot, they began to run towards the nearest exits. But many stayed and toughed it out, coming back for more punches.
Spot soon found himself being edged into a corner by a hulking man, who wasn't giving up no matter how many "hints" Spot gave him. The beads of sweat stuck out on Spot's forehead as he fought harder, trying to push him back away from him. But suddenly, in what seemed like a mere second, the man was gone, sprawled out on the floor unable to move. Spot stared at him for a moment, then glanced at his side. Blue stood there, eyeing her fist admiringly. She raised her blue-green eyes demurely and winked. "How many times is dat now Spot? Huh? I tink dats 'bout ova a hunred times I've saved yer butt ain't it?" She asked. Spot grinned and leaned over towards her. "I tink dat yer wrong. You cain't even count, but I'm sure dat its lowa dan a hunred. No more dan twenty I'm sure." He replied.
Blue rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Sure, sure Conlon. You are so busted fer not tellin' me 'bout dis." She said seriously. Then Spot's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. "Blue! Where's Gabriel? You didn't leave him alone didja?" He asked, panic rising in his voice. Blue stared at him in disbelief. "You tink I'd do dat? Ta me own kid? Geez danks fer da vote of confidence Conlon. As ta Gabriel, ya know as opinionated as dat Rose Kelly is, she kin be mighty persuasive when ya tell her dat yer husband is gonna git killed by a buncha hoodlems." Blue said, eyeing Spot. Spot stared at her in disbelief. "Ya little liar." He muttered. Blue threw her hands in the air. "C'mon Spot. It wasn't a lie. If I hadn't been here ya woulda been jest anudda splatta on da wall. DAT ain't a lie." She said pointedly.
Her blue-green eyes surveyed the scene, catching hold of Sketch as he landed a swift punch to a man's face. "You git a chance ta tawk ta him?" Blue whispered. Spot shook his head, not looking at her. "Ya gotta Spot." She said, taking hold of his large hand. "I know. But right now we need ta help him." Spot replied walking out amidst the brawl with Blue on his heels. Quickly, the rest of the gang was dispatched. The group stood in a circle, panting. "Well I guess we done it huh?" Quincy breathed. "You betcha! Fair an' square!" Sketch replied. Jade's hawk-like eyes jumped to attention at a sight behind them. "Osca!!" She shrieked. Sketch whirled around to face Oscar, his uninjured hand raising the pistol towards Spot's turned back.
Sketch looked at Oscar then back to his father in a flash of a moment before running and pushing his father down as the bullet rang free. The bullet whizzed over their heads, landing in the wall behind them. Spot looked up at Sketch, his eyes betraying his amazement. Sketch grinned bashfully and jumped to his feet. "Dat ain't playin' fair Osca!" Oscar grinned and took a step forward. "So? Dis is da final round. No rules." Oscar took another step forward but stopped as hands grasped his neck, pulling him down. He began to choke, dropping his gun as he tried to pry the arms off his neck. But whoever it was had a firm grip on his neck.
But finally Oscar slung the person around, revealing Angel grasping his arm, temporarily stunned. Oscar grabbed her with his good arm, holding her fast by her neck. Bright Eyes took a step forward, but a pale Racetrack put his hand in front of her. Spot took a step forward. In a stroke of bravery, Oscar painfully grasped the gun with his injured hand, pointing it straight at Spot. "Come anudda step an' I'll kill you an' her Conlon." Spot stopped and held up his hands. "We kin woik dis out Osca. Jest put da goil down." He said in a wheedling tone. Oscar shook his head, painfully pointing the gun at Angel's head.
"You give yerself up an' den mebey I'll consider it." Oscar said. "Never!" Sketch yelled angrily, taking an angry step forward but it was stopped by Jade stepping in front of him. "Not now Sketch! You don't wanna set him off!" Jade hissed furiously. "He's gonna kill our fadda! We gots ta do sometin'." Sketch whispered furiously. Jade nodded patiently, but didn't move from her spot. "We gots ta let dis play out. Papa knows what he's doin'." She whispered. Sketch took another look at the scene in front of him and shook his head. "So what's it gonna be Conlon? Give yerself up an' Bright's goil goes free, or ya don't an' ya both die. Its dat simple." Oscar said, giving his tell-tale grin.
Sketch raised his hands in the air. "Look Osca, if you'se is gonna fight us, fight fair! Wolf was da one wit' da gun. Now he's gone an' yer da only one wit' one. You was on da streets long enough ta know dat dis here ain't a fair fight. C'mon, I know ya kin be reasonable 'bout dis." Sketch said firmly. Oscar eyed him and the gun lowered a half inch. "So what if I kin be reasonable? What den? What would you suggest?" He asked. Sketch looked back at Jade, who nodded. "We want it ta be a fair fight. Wit' fists. No weapons." He said. Oscar laughed harshly. "In case ya haven't noticed, yer little leada blew me arm out. An' plus dey'res more of you'se dan me." He said sarcastically. Sketch nodded and took a step forward. "C'mon Osca, you ain't foolin' me. I know you got yer cronies hidden all ova da place. Let dem do da fightin' fer ya." Oscar laughed, and this time it was void of harshness. "Yer smart kid. I'll give ya dat." He said, snapping his fingers. At the sound, men seemed to leak out of the very walls, surrounding the group. Sketch furrowed his eyebrows as he heard Jade suck in her breath.
"Okay den Osca. If dats da way ya want it. But make sure dat dey git rid of dey're weapons. No tricks. Dis is gonna be a fair fight." Sketch said firmly. Oscar raised his eyebrows and nodded to the men behind him. The men eyed him, but still tossed their weapons aside. Sketch watched them as they did so. They weren't only men, teenage boys were also mixed in among them, many no older than Sketch, but still as determined. Finally when all the weapons lay in a large pile on the floor, Oscar nodded at Sketch. "You ready ta duke dis out?" He asked quietly. Sketch turned around to glance at his companions. Quincy and Raven nodded, Angel did the same. Jade looked at him and in the depths of her green eyes, Sketch saw her fighting spirit surface. Sketch turned back to Oscar and nodded.
Oscar raised his hand, waited a few seconds, then snapped his fingers. The mixture of men and boys raced at them fiercely. As soon as one of them came in contact with her, Jade smacked the unfortunate one with an angry fist. He fell sprawling. The fight began to get intense, men and boys fighting as fiercely as the small Newsie band. Soon both sides began to weaken, but Oscar's men had the upper hand. Just when Sketch began to have second thoughts about getting into this fight, a flash of light from the doorway caught his eye. He punched the unfortunate in front of him and squinted in the light. Four figures stood in the doorway, one with familiar broad shoulders.
His breath quickened and his pulse raced as the former leader of Brooklyn, his father, stepped into the midst of the brawl. A warning yell sounded out, causing Sketch to whirl around just in time to see the hulking man running at him. Quickly, he ducked, the man flying over his head. A large hand smacked him on the back, and Sketch looked up into the gray eyes of Spot Conlon. "Papa, I, I didn't mean," He stuttered. Spot put up his hand. "Don't worry 'bout it. We'll tawk 'bout it lata. Right now we got business ta attend ta." Spot said with a grin. Sketch laughed as he looked around him. "Who'd ya bring?" He yelled over the hubbub, as he turned from his father to rejoin the fight, his father doing the same. "Aw, no one big, jest Race an' Bright Eyes an' yer Wolf friend. But still, nothin' but da best I guess." Sketch frowned and turned around to see his father kick a boy across the room. "Mama ain't here?" He asked.
Spot colored and punched another man in the face. "Naw, she's wit' Gabriel." He said. Sketch's mouth dropped open. "Ya didn't tell her?" He said, his voice filled with disbelief. Spot shrugged. "So? Do I hafta invite yer mudda ta every fight I git mixed inta? I mean seriously, I'd like ta have me moment of glory widout yer mudda showin' me up every time!" Spot said defensively. "You are so gonna be dead!" Sketch laughed loudly. "You jest shudup an' fight boy!" Spot said gruffly, but with a twinkle in his eye. From that point on, the fight was basically over. Once many of the men, many former Newsies themselves, caught sight of Spot, they began to run towards the nearest exits. But many stayed and toughed it out, coming back for more punches.
Spot soon found himself being edged into a corner by a hulking man, who wasn't giving up no matter how many "hints" Spot gave him. The beads of sweat stuck out on Spot's forehead as he fought harder, trying to push him back away from him. But suddenly, in what seemed like a mere second, the man was gone, sprawled out on the floor unable to move. Spot stared at him for a moment, then glanced at his side. Blue stood there, eyeing her fist admiringly. She raised her blue-green eyes demurely and winked. "How many times is dat now Spot? Huh? I tink dats 'bout ova a hunred times I've saved yer butt ain't it?" She asked. Spot grinned and leaned over towards her. "I tink dat yer wrong. You cain't even count, but I'm sure dat its lowa dan a hunred. No more dan twenty I'm sure." He replied.
Blue rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Sure, sure Conlon. You are so busted fer not tellin' me 'bout dis." She said seriously. Then Spot's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. "Blue! Where's Gabriel? You didn't leave him alone didja?" He asked, panic rising in his voice. Blue stared at him in disbelief. "You tink I'd do dat? Ta me own kid? Geez danks fer da vote of confidence Conlon. As ta Gabriel, ya know as opinionated as dat Rose Kelly is, she kin be mighty persuasive when ya tell her dat yer husband is gonna git killed by a buncha hoodlems." Blue said, eyeing Spot. Spot stared at her in disbelief. "Ya little liar." He muttered. Blue threw her hands in the air. "C'mon Spot. It wasn't a lie. If I hadn't been here ya woulda been jest anudda splatta on da wall. DAT ain't a lie." She said pointedly.
Her blue-green eyes surveyed the scene, catching hold of Sketch as he landed a swift punch to a man's face. "You git a chance ta tawk ta him?" Blue whispered. Spot shook his head, not looking at her. "Ya gotta Spot." She said, taking hold of his large hand. "I know. But right now we need ta help him." Spot replied walking out amidst the brawl with Blue on his heels. Quickly, the rest of the gang was dispatched. The group stood in a circle, panting. "Well I guess we done it huh?" Quincy breathed. "You betcha! Fair an' square!" Sketch replied. Jade's hawk-like eyes jumped to attention at a sight behind them. "Osca!!" She shrieked. Sketch whirled around to face Oscar, his uninjured hand raising the pistol towards Spot's turned back.
Sketch looked at Oscar then back to his father in a flash of a moment before running and pushing his father down as the bullet rang free. The bullet whizzed over their heads, landing in the wall behind them. Spot looked up at Sketch, his eyes betraying his amazement. Sketch grinned bashfully and jumped to his feet. "Dat ain't playin' fair Osca!" Oscar grinned and took a step forward. "So? Dis is da final round. No rules." Oscar took another step forward but stopped as hands grasped his neck, pulling him down. He began to choke, dropping his gun as he tried to pry the arms off his neck. But whoever it was had a firm grip on his neck.
But finally Oscar slung the person around, revealing Angel grasping his arm, temporarily stunned. Oscar grabbed her with his good arm, holding her fast by her neck. Bright Eyes took a step forward, but a pale Racetrack put his hand in front of her. Spot took a step forward. In a stroke of bravery, Oscar painfully grasped the gun with his injured hand, pointing it straight at Spot. "Come anudda step an' I'll kill you an' her Conlon." Spot stopped and held up his hands. "We kin woik dis out Osca. Jest put da goil down." He said in a wheedling tone. Oscar shook his head, painfully pointing the gun at Angel's head.
"You give yerself up an' den mebey I'll consider it." Oscar said. "Never!" Sketch yelled angrily, taking an angry step forward but it was stopped by Jade stepping in front of him. "Not now Sketch! You don't wanna set him off!" Jade hissed furiously. "He's gonna kill our fadda! We gots ta do sometin'." Sketch whispered furiously. Jade nodded patiently, but didn't move from her spot. "We gots ta let dis play out. Papa knows what he's doin'." She whispered. Sketch took another look at the scene in front of him and shook his head. "So what's it gonna be Conlon? Give yerself up an' Bright's goil goes free, or ya don't an' ya both die. Its dat simple." Oscar said, giving his tell-tale grin.
