Title- Evolution: Nitro City
Author: Dave Scott
E-mail: bender_hkw@lycos.com
Disclaimer: Selected superstars belong to WWE, NWA-TNA and XPW. The
superstars mentioned in this story Sea Wolf, John 'Jagged Edge' Jones,
Arkuss Blackburn and Hank Brenner are property of the author so ask for
permission by e-mail before using any of them. I mean it. I would also like
to thank the creators of the Grand Theft Auto games for deeply influencing
this story.
Chapter One- Wolf in the City
He had passed the border of Nitro City over an hour ago. It was already after ten o'clock and he could tell that this was a bad neighborhood. Justin Timberwolfe stepped on the gas of his Harley and headed for the metal scrap yard. "Damn. John sure gives lousy directions. If I took Route 7, I would've been there half an hour ago."
Justin had driven thorough the scrap yard's entrance and parked his bike. He headed to the location where John had told him to meet. He looked around. Nobody. "Hell! Isn't that typical. He always backs out when he knows our asses are on the line."
"What are you talking about?" said a voice from above him. A flashlight clicked on from the top of a heap. "You're the one who's late." John 'Jagged Edge' Jones jumped off the heap. "Follow me. They'll be here any minute."
"Who? Who the hell is on the way? What's this about?"
They headed to an old Chevy where another guy in the driver's seat was waiting. John opened up the trunk and removed a large crate with a biohazard logo on it. Justin looked at it. "What the fuck! What's in that thing?"
"Some guy named Morley assigned me to deliver this here at this hour. There's a guy meeting us here any minute who's paying half a mill for this shit."
"What's this have to do with me and who's this guy?"
"Well, you mentioned a month ago that you need money badly. Our buyer must have a good reason wanting this. By the look of the logo, I figured I may need back up in case he decides to skip out of paying us. The guy in the car is named Jerry Lynn, by the way. He's our driver." The three of them waited as a van pulled in front of them. "He's here. Keep the engine running, Jerry." He looked at Justin. "Can you help me carry this?"
A lone man dressed in black stepped out of the passenger side of the van and approached them. Justin set down the crate in front of the mysterious man. He kneeled down and pried open to crate and looked inside. John and Justin were about to look as well, but the man told them to back away. He stood up and looked at them and smiled. "This is it. This is what I need."
"Do you have the 500 thou?"
The man in black opened the case, presenting the money. He set case on top of the crate. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." John Jones went for the case, but as he touched the handle. A blade appeared in his face. "If you know what's good for you, you will keep your hands off the cash and beat it."
John took a few steps back waiting for the man in black to put the blade away. He kept his hands up and stepped back some more. As the mysterious man lowered the blade, John charged at the man. The man in black attempted to strike him with his oversized icepick but was evaded. John lunged at the man and gave him a clothesline across the chest, knocking him down. The man got back up quickly and kicked John in the face in five seconds. He turned around and hit a switch on his weapon. The doors from the back of the van opened and four men rushed out each armed with a tommygun.
Justin backed into the Chevy while Jerry was screaming for John to get in the car. Each gunman fired at the same time while two other lackeys and the man in black took the case and the crate. A storm of bullets drilled through John Jones before Justin and the driver. He threw himself into the backseat and screamed, "Floor it! Let's get the fuck out of here!"
Before the man in black got back into the van, he looked at John's fallen body and back at the vehicle fleeing the scene. One of the gunmen looked as well. "What about those guys, Mr. Blackburn?"
"Forget them. They won't tell anybody."
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The Chevy was parked crooked as Jerry and Justin jumped out and headed for a nearby apartment. "You can use the couch this evening, but I want you out by tomorrow night."
"Don't think you're out of the woods. Those bastards spot you, you'll be whacked as well. So we're both waist deep in shit."
"Okay. Okay. I know somebody who might help."
"What do you mean? That crate probably had some kind of virus and some psychopath has possession of it."
"I know he killed your friend. This guy I know doesn't have all the sources but he could get you some work."
"Work?"
"Yeah. You obviously don't know shit about this city. You need to get to know this area and maybe you can get some leads."
"Fine. We'll meet this guy."
(Deadbeat Dork)
Jerry Lynn parked his car in front of an unmarked building. "Here we are, pal." Both men approached the entrance and rang the bell.
"Who the hell is it?" said a low and groggy voice.
"Hey, Scott. It's me, Jerry. I have a friend here also."
"Is he a cop?"
"No."
"Good. Come on in."
The inside of the building only consisted of two rooms. One filled with file cabinets, books and Sports magazines. The main room had only a coffee table and four chairs. The second room had a cluttered desk and a TV sitting across from it and a refrigerator next to it.
A man in his thirties was slouched in his chair staring at the TV. His hair was long and greasy and it appeared that he hadn't shaved in days. It seemed to take him ten minutes or more to finally notice them. A smile appeared on his face once the horse race on television was over. "That's another grand in my pockets. I can get that new cellar for this building now." He looked up at them. "Hey, Jerry. Who's your friend?"
"The name's Justin. Justin Timberwolfe."
"You sure don't look like that faggot from NSUCK."
"The name's Timberwolfe."
"Whatever. I'm Scott Hall. What do you want? Paying up for last week's race?"
"I don't place bets." Justin knew this guy was a bookie. "Jerry said you might help me out."
"Unless you're here for business, get the hell out of here!"
"You got it wrong," Jerry told him. "He needs some help. We were involved in a deal last night and his best friend was hit. It appears to be a money issue."
"That's right, Scott. I'm not trying to sound desperate but it's an emergency. I came from Rhodestown last night. Ten days ago, a friend of mine got busted for a crime he didn't commit. A group breached the security of a government lab and bombed it. He's being tried for conspiracy. There's a lawyer that I know of who can prove his innocence, but I need $90,000."
"Ninety thousand!? Shit! I wish I had that kind of money. I wouldn't be working in this dump if I had that much. Don't waste your time here."
Jerry butted in again. "Scott, I know that you have some connections. Is there anything he could do?"
"How about this, Timberwolfe. I suppose you could do me a favor. Some prissy named Mike Sanders owes me five hundred greenbacks for last weeks Nascar race and he's been trying to weasel his way out. He lives somewhere in Lorry. Go and make an example out of him and I can give you some spending cash for it. You can take the subway to his neighborhood. The station just around the corner."
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Justin exited the station and looked at the paper with the address written down. "Okay. His apartment isn't too far from here." When he found the condo and the apartment number, he crumbled up the paper and knocked on the door. A snobby looking guy answered the door.
"What do you want?"
"Are you Mike Sanders?"
"Who wants to know?"
Justin planted his knuckles into Sanders' lips. He grabbed his collar and slammed him head first against the walls numerous times and thrust his knee into the guy's gut. As Mike started crawling away, Justin kicked him in the ribs a few times. He lifted the dork up to his feet. "Scott Hall sent me. Consider this a warning." Then he threw Sanders into the door and walked away.
(Disqo Demolition)
Justin entered Scott Hall's office the next day. Scott looked at him a stayed silent for awhile. He was obviously plastered.again. "That was good. I hear you kicked the shit out of him like it was nothing. I knew you could handle it."
"Thanks. Those three hundred bucks were nice, but I have a long way to go."
"Don't get too excited. I have other friends who can provide a lot more.." He gazed at his TV. "Hold on. I wanna hear this." Justin paid no attention to the interview but it involved a driver in an upcoming race. Scott threw down his drink. "Dammit! That bastard!"
"What?"
"I bet on some champ known as Detour. Ten grand and this little shit Gilberti just enhanced his vehicle and is sure to win today."
"What do you want me to do?"
Scott stared at Justin with a sadistic grin. "Maybe you can prevent it. The race is three hours away. Why don't you trash that sucker's car and prevent him from winning." He tossed a set of keys to him. "Take my car, but I expect you to return it by the end of the day."
Justin drove the borrowed Cadilliac to the racing ground. He looked at the building. "How am I gonna do this?" Security seemed to be tight and he had no intention of buying a ticket. He walked around the parking lot and saw a mechanic rummaging through his trunk. He now had an idea. While the mechanic was still looking in the trunk, Justin looked around and struck the man on the back of the neck. He took the toolbox and the jumpsuit off the unconscious man. After a quick change, he calmly walked into the arena.
As he arrived, some guy in a jumpsuit and crash helmet ran to him. It was racer, Glen Gilberti. "It's about time you got here, Seaver."
"Sorry. I was caught in traffic."
"My car needs to be tuned up. The race is in forty-five minutes and I have a champ to beat."
He headed to the garage with Gilberti's prized car. Three other men were already working on it. They looked up at him. "Good to see you, Seaver." One of them stared at him. "You look different. I see you shaved your moustache."
"Yeah. I was getting tired of it." He knew nothing about working on cars or engines. The only option was to damage it. "Guys, how about you take a little break. I'll continue with it." They agreed and walked off. He looked around and found the switch to bring down the garage gate and picked up a crowbar that was lying on a table. Once the garage was shut, he lifted the crowbar above his head and brought it down on the hood of Gilberti's racecar. He repeatedly swung this tool, smashing the windows, denting the exterior and opened up the hood smashing the engine. He used a screwdriver to gouge the tires also. The sound of the garage door rising startled him. He spotted the back door and headed for it before anyone could see him. As he fled, he could hear Glen Gilberti screaming, "NO! MY CAR! I'M GONNA KILL THAT ASSHOLE!" He jumped into the Cadillac and drove straight back to Scott Hall's office. He placed the car keys back on Scott's desk.
Scott was still sitting at his desk and laughing. He stood up and slowly applauded as Justin entered. "Congrats. You just got me a new television and entertainment system." He picked up a pen and wrote him a check.
Justin looked at it. "A thousand dollars?!"
"What's the matter? It's more than last time."
"I know that, but I was almost caught. I could have been arrested."
"Don't worry about it. You got that little shithead out of the race."
"Thanks for the check."
(Beer Run)
The phone rang before Justin could walk out the door. "Hello. Hey, yo," Scott said. He waited. "Kevin, what's going on?" He listened. "That sucks, man. I know a guy. I'll see what we can work out." Scott looked back at Justin. "Hey, Timberlake."
"Timberwolfe."
"Okay. I have yet another offer. I have a friend who owns some bar called The Hangman. Their alcohol supply appears to be tapped out and their delivery was behind schedule. I know of this one gang who gets their profit selling their own brew. They have some trucks that pass through portions of this city. If you could hijack one of their Keggers and deliver it to the bar, I'll pay you double of what I just now gave you."
Justin sighed. "Consider it done."
"Sure. I've gotta lock up. I'll meet you there. Just bring the truck to the back of the building but be careful when you drive around the area. There are cretins that like to inhabit the surroundings."
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Justin was about to start his motorcycle when he thought about the Kegger he was asked to steal. "Where the hell am I supposed to get one of those things? This is a big ass city. I don't have a tracking device or psychic abilities. Sounds like Scott is trying to skip out on me." Being all frustrated he ran to the nearest payphone and called up Jerry Lynn. "Hey, Jerry. Do you have any idea where I could find any unusual looking beer trucks?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Scott Hall and a friend of his named Kevin asked me to steal a beer truck that roams around this by some Smokey and the Bandit cast members."
"Oh yeah. It looks like a delivery truck but it's shaped almost like a beer keg. The side of it reads 'Southern Trendkill.' The main ones frequently run around Horace or Schiavone parts of town. It's still early so you might be able to catch a full tank."
"Thanks." He hung up the phone and took off on his bike. Once he found the Schiavone intersection, he turned into it and circled around the blocks. The sun was already set and he figured at least nobody would spot him clearly if he comes across the Kegger. While his mind was drifting towards something else, he heard a low sounding horn blow, waking him from his daydream. A metal keg shaped truck passed by. He stepped on his pedal and followed the truck. He was relaxed and would be ready to strike when the truck came to a stop sign or a red light. When that time came, he quickly parked his bike and charged at the driver's side or the truck.
He forced open the door and yanked out some guy with a mullet wearing coveralls and pushed him to the ground. Before he jumped in the driver's seat he spotted a guy from the passenger side jump out and come at him. The other guy was fat, had a thick beard and a Confederate bandana. Justin looked back at the guy with the mullet and spotted a pistol on his belt. He kicked the man and snagged his weapon and then pointed it at both guys. "Back away, you stupid rednecks, and no one gets hurt!"
"Who are you calling stupid?" the fat guy yelled back.
Justin slapped the fat guy across the face with the pistol and aimed at the guy with the mullet. He jumped into the driver's seat while other cars behind him blew their horn non-stop. He locked the doors and hit the gas. "To the Hangman."
He didn't have a problem finding the bar and knew at this minute that Scott Hall wouldn't skip out on him. Especially when it came to some good cheap beer. The Kegger proceeded further and entered the South of Nitro City. The Hangman was located in a section that people called the Vampiro. He looked out the window a few times and spotted bums, dealers and thug who were just looking for fights. "Just ignore them, keep driving and don't make eye contact with anyone out there." He passed by one club that looked almost like a castle or a haunted house. The front had a holographic sign reading 'THE BROOD' and looked like blood was dripping from it. There was a line outside the entrance consisting of individuals dressed in black or revealing clothing. "How about that. An Addams Family reunion." After taking two rights and a left the city started looked nicer. Five blocks later, he spotted the Hangman and turned into the back of the building and parked the Kegger. He stopped the engine and jumped out. He knocked on the door and waited to announce a successful delivery.
Some footsteps came from behind him. He turned around and saw a man wearing ragged clothes and reeked of cheap booze and other nasty stuff. He glared at Justin and produced a switchblade. "Gimme all your money, beer boy."
Justin walked calmly toward the homeless man and gave him a high kick to the head, knocking him out cold. "That wasn't too hard." Then the door to the bar opened. It was Scott Hall and he was accompanied by a blond man with long hair and stood seven feet tall.
"Hello there, Justin. You're just in time..hic.. The bar opens soon so let's put it all on tap." He looked back. "This is Kevin Nash. The owner of the Hangman."
"Hello there, Mr. Nash. I'm Justin Timberwolfe."
"Glad to meet you, Justin. And you can call me Kevin. I really appreciate this. Scott told me a lot about you. If there's anything you need, I can help you out."
(Payday)
Justin sat up on the couch that he had been using since staying at Jerry Lynn's home. "God. I'm so fucking tired."
Jerry came from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. "Are you alright? You look hungover."
"I'm not. I only had two beers. I only had two hours of sleep. It was Scott. He got so plastered it wasn't funny. I was planning on leaving by 1a.m. but Scott insisted on staying all night and I had to drive him to his office because I didn't know his address. I also remembered that I had my bike parked somewhere down the Schiavone intersection so I ended up walking home."
"I'm heading off. See you later."
After four miserable hours, trying to get some sleep, he took a quick shower and jumped on a bus and stopped at Scott's office to see what he was up to. "He's probably passed out and lying face first on his desk in a puddle of puke."
He opened the office door, hoping to see what he expected but saw different. Scott Hall was standing on his own two legs and admiring a huge shelf that filled the room that was trashy when he first set foot in the office. There was another man there also. He almost resembled Lex Luger by the build and his face. He looked like he was in early thirties and wore a cheesy suit "Now this is a liquor cabinet. What do you say, Hank?"
"I guess I agree with you. It looks like luck is on your side."
"Oh, hey Justin. This is one of my other friends. Hank Brenner. He runs a car dealership around here." He looked back at his new liquor cabinet. "Hank, this guy is something. He's the man."
Hank shook Justin's hand. "Scott has told me a lot about you."
"Hey, Justin. I'm buying a new car today so you can have my Cadillac," Scott interrupted.
"Looking for a new car?"
"Well, I lost my motorcycle last night."
"I'm not trying to pitch you or anything but how about this, if what Scott says is true, I'm sure I could help you out. Here's my card." Then he left the office.
"Guess what? I just won four bets today. That green is rolling in like hell. I'll be busy today. If you could collect my payroll, that would save me a lot of time. I'll call my guys and let them know you're collecting. Here are the addresses."
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Justin read each address as he got into his rental car. There were two pickups in Sherman View, one in Lorry and one in Schiavone. "This shouldn't take very long." The first three pickups were not a problem as he quickly passed through Sherman View and Lorry. Scott's so-called customers paid up without a problem. There was only one more location and another paycheck would be on the way. He parked his car on the side of the road and walked towards the final address.
There was a note on the door, asking him to use the back door. Justin didn't think too much of it and walked to the back of the building where a lone suitcase was sitting there waiting for him. He slowly picked up the case and opened it. The cash was inside. "I'm good to go." Then he felt something hit him in the back.
Two young men were kicking him when he was down. "Shit. What the hell's this?" Both men decided to stop for a minute, thinking he was done for. Justin got up and punched the guy closer to him. The other guy appeared to be armed with a baseball bat, but it didn't scare him. He speared the guy with the bat before he could swing. He grabbed the bat from the guy's grasp and swung at the other guy striking him in the shoulder. Then he turned around and hit the now unarmed man in the back. "I'll be taking this."
He heard a click from behind him as he was reaching for the case. "It's you again." Mike Sanders had a Colt .45 pressed against the back of Justin's head. "So Scott sent you to do his dirty work I see. Looks like he'll no longer need your service."
Justin shut his eyes, hoping that Mike either forgot to reload his gun, this was just a dream or a miracle would save him. He waited, but no gunshot went off he heard a gasp and the sound of a body hitting a floor. He turned around and saw Sanders getting up and trying to grab the gun he dropped. A tall black man kicked the deadbeat punk in the head, knocking him flat to the ground. "Who the hell are you?"
"Don't worry. I'm a friend of Scott's," the black man said. He picked up Mike's gun.
Justin sprang on Mike Sanders, grabbing him by the ankle and bending it back. He listened to Mike scream while still keeping his eyes on the man who saved him from getting shot.
"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"
"What's the deal, jackass! What's the deal with pulling a gun on me?"
"I'm sorry. Take the money. Just don't kill me."
"Fine." He grabbed the case and looked back at Mike. "You might wanna consider giving up gambling. Scott Hall's not the one to fuck with. Me neither." Then he headed for his vehicle.
The black man followed him as he threw the case into the trunk with the rest of them. He looked up at him. "Thanks for the help by the way, but stop following me."
"This isn't a stick up. Scott phoned me right after you left. He knew that sucker Sanders was up to no good and would do anything to skip out on paying."
"Scott never told me anything about you. Who are you anyway?"
The man pushed his long braided hair out of his face. "The name's Booker T."
"Justin. Justin Timberwolfe." Booker began to laugh. "What's so funny? I didn't pick my name." He paused. "Scott had the same reaction. You can call me by the code name I went under back when I served in the Navy. Sea Wolf."
"Sea Wolf. That suits you better. Well, meet me at the Hangman after you deliver Scott's winnings. See ya later." Booker T got into his Thunderbird and took off.
(Competition)
Sea Wolf arrived back at Jerry's apartment and cracked open a can of soda. He dug into his pockets and found the business card that Hank Brenner had given him. It was after six o'clock so he still had time to call. He quickly dialed and waited.
"Colossus Autos, Bonnie speaking."
"Is Hank Brenner available?"
"I'll transfer you." He waited some more and got a response in a minute.
"Hank Brenner speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hello there. This is Justin Timberwolfe. We met this morning. You could say I'm Scott Hall's errand boy."
"Hey there. Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking to buy a car. What do you recommend at a reasonable price?"
"Looking for a new car, huh? I recall you mention that you need one ASAP. How about this? If you could do me a favor, I can help you out. There's a competitor dealership known as Krypton Automobile. They're getting a shipment of some spanking new cars and I'll tell you, it's bad for business. There are three trucks that will be picking them up tomorrow morning. If you can find a way to prevent it, not only will I pay you, but I'll give you an offer you can't refuse."
"Okay."
"I also have a friend named Tommy who works at the scrap yard who can give you some supplies. It'll be around 5 a.m. so you might wanna get some shut eye early. You have a big day tomorrow."
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The taxi dropped Sea Wolf off at the scrap yard. He checked his watch. It was 4:30 in the morning and he barely had any sleep. He was cautious as he entered, remembering that his best friend was murdered here. He drew the pistol that he had stolen from the truck driver two days ago and approaching the meeting area. A clean cut white male in dark clothing was standing by the crusher with a kendo stick in his hand.
"So you must be Justin. I'm Tommy."
"I was told to stop here for some supplies."
"Yes, they're in the van over there."
He looked into the passenger seat and saw a crate filled with sticks of dynamite. "Dynamite! Isn't that intense!"
"No, it's extreme! If we wanted to, we have enough to level Krypton's building and plenty to spare for a rainy day. I'll be assisting you. I slapped a tracking device on the trucks to save us some time." He opened the passenger side and moved the crate of dynamite. "The keys are in the ignition so you'll be driving. Let's go." Tommy looked at the radar while Justin left the scrap yard. "Alright. The closest truck is on Merch Road and will eventually turn on 12th Street that will head towards the pick up. We'll take that street and wait for it to arrive. Then we'll take it out."
Sea Wolf followed the directions and parked at their post. Twelve minutes passed until they spotted the truck. "What do we do?"
"Do you have a good arm?"
"Why?"
"Can you throw good?"
"Yeah." "Than get out of the van and I'll pass you a stick."
Sea Wolf ran to the passenger side and grabbed a stick that Tommy had lit. The truck appeared to be fifty feet away. He tossed it and watched it rolled under the moving truck. The explosion made it leap and then kept going. "Hand me another." Tommy quickly lit another stick and watched it being tossed again. It blew when it hit the front bumper. He grabbed another one and tossed it as the truck was catching fire. The driver jumped out and fled before it flew into bits.
"Two more to go. We only have an hour. Now move it!"
"I don't see you doing much."
"Shut up and get in the van."
They spotted the second truck and planned the same strategy. Sea Wolf jumped out of the van and ran to the passenger side while Tommy lit and stick and passed it to him. He spotted the truck coming their way and tossed it, but realized that it was a bit to early. The stick blew in front of the truck making it swerve and then took a sharp turn toward the next street. "Shit!" He got back into the driver's seat and stepped on the gas. He began to tail the speeding truck while Tommy started complaining.
"What are you doing? We can't blow that thing up from here. We'll catch him at another route."
"No! He knows were after him. We'll chase this bastard. Now light another stick once we get close to it." Tommy did so, but missed and heard the explosion as they passed by. The truck side swiped them when they caught up. Sea Wolf gave the van more gas, only to get swiped again.
"Watch it!" Tommy yelled.
"You aren't the one driving. And buckle your damn seatbelt!" The driver's side scraped against a wall after being hit by the truck. When they managed to catch up. Sea Wolf looked at Tommy. "Throw one! Now!" Tommy tossed another stick into the driver's side window of the truck. The driver panicked for a moment as his truck was swerving side to side and then tossed it back, but lucky for Sea Wolf and Tommy, it bounced off their hood and exploded on the sidewalk. "Here's my gun. Just shoot the son of a bitch." Tommy fired as their windows crossed paths. The driver dropped dead at the wheel and the truck accelerated and crashed into building. He glared at Tommy. "Where's the last one?"
"Let me see. Okay. We'll stay on this road here and I'll tell you when we turn." After catching up with the third truck, Tommy looked at the truck and at Sea Wolf. "Got any ideas?"
"We'll do what it takes to destroy this one."
Tommy poked out of the window and started shooting at the tires, hoping to slow it down as Sea Wolf sped up and rammed into it. The truck's driver fired back also, making the van swerve. Tommy threw another stick rolling into the path of the truck but only slowed it down, but knocked it into the van.
"Do the back doors open?"
"Yes."
"Hang on to your ass!" He sped ahead of the truck and Tommy crawled to the back and kicked open the doors and tossed a stick of dynamite at the ongoing truck but missed. He tried a few more times but kept missing while the truck driver continued to fire from his seat. He hit the gas and rammed the back of the van, causing it to spin uncontrollably throwing Tommy out of the back. Sea Wolf got out of the van and checked on Tommy. "You alright?"
"Yeah. Just a few scrapes but I'll live."
"Come on. We've gotta catch him or he go to the cops unless he changes his mind and decides to kill us himself." Both men went back to the van, but the engine wouldn't run. He looked at the speedometer and found that they were out of gas. "Dammit! How are we gonna catch him now?!"
"Look at that!" An El Gato was coming down the road. Tommy stood in the way and brandished the gun Sea Wolf had given him. He yanked the man out and waited for Sea Wolf to take the driver's seat. "Let's get him, Justin!"
Tommy continued to stare at the radar while Justin sped towards the speeding truck. "Tommy, we're almost at him. Get ready to toss another and don't stop until we get him."
"Fuck!" There was only one dynamite stick in his hand. "We left the rest in the van!"
"We'll have to find another way. Whatever it takes!" He sped past the truck at the end of a street near two parked cars. "Okay, pal. That truck's coming! Now throw it between those cars!"
"What?"
"Do it! It's coming!"
Tommy tossed the dynamite and watched both cars blow and fly into the middle of the street. The oncoming truck hit the brakes and crashed into the totaled cars before them. Sea Wolf pulled the driver out of the truck and shoved him into a corner. Tommy picked up his kendo stick that he had carried the whole time and smacked the guy in the head with it, jumped into the truck with Justin and fled. "Now what?"
"Tommy, you're the one driving! We could just wreck it and leave it burning but that would start a scene or we'd get ourselves killed. Or we could take it to the scrap yard and let the crusher have it."
"The crusher will be fine." When they finally got to the scrap yard, they parked it and let the crusher to the rest.
Sea Wolf listened to the sound of crunching metal and let out a sigh of relief. "Damn. I'm glad that's over with. Thanks for your help, Tommy."
"Don't mention it. If you need dispose of anything in the near future, you'll know where to find me."
"Cool."
"Now let's go see Mr. Brenner and pick up our pay for this deed."
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"That's great, guys. I am ahead of the game now," Hank Brenner exclaimed. "Here are your checks." Both men smiled as they looked at the amount. Twenty five hundred seemed reasonable but they wouldn't have done it for less. After Tommy left, Hank spoke to Sea Wolf. "It looks like you have done me a favor so here's my offer. Yesterday, you told me how you were in need for a car, so here's what I'm going to do. I have a great selection of vehicles and if you need to borrow any, you're welcome to it just as long as you bring it back and don't wreck it."
"Sure. Thanks, Mr. Brenner."
"No problem. Here's a key to the building and the keys to the vehicles are in that room over there and have a good day. I'll keep in touch if I need your help again."
Chapter One- Wolf in the City
He had passed the border of Nitro City over an hour ago. It was already after ten o'clock and he could tell that this was a bad neighborhood. Justin Timberwolfe stepped on the gas of his Harley and headed for the metal scrap yard. "Damn. John sure gives lousy directions. If I took Route 7, I would've been there half an hour ago."
Justin had driven thorough the scrap yard's entrance and parked his bike. He headed to the location where John had told him to meet. He looked around. Nobody. "Hell! Isn't that typical. He always backs out when he knows our asses are on the line."
"What are you talking about?" said a voice from above him. A flashlight clicked on from the top of a heap. "You're the one who's late." John 'Jagged Edge' Jones jumped off the heap. "Follow me. They'll be here any minute."
"Who? Who the hell is on the way? What's this about?"
They headed to an old Chevy where another guy in the driver's seat was waiting. John opened up the trunk and removed a large crate with a biohazard logo on it. Justin looked at it. "What the fuck! What's in that thing?"
"Some guy named Morley assigned me to deliver this here at this hour. There's a guy meeting us here any minute who's paying half a mill for this shit."
"What's this have to do with me and who's this guy?"
"Well, you mentioned a month ago that you need money badly. Our buyer must have a good reason wanting this. By the look of the logo, I figured I may need back up in case he decides to skip out of paying us. The guy in the car is named Jerry Lynn, by the way. He's our driver." The three of them waited as a van pulled in front of them. "He's here. Keep the engine running, Jerry." He looked at Justin. "Can you help me carry this?"
A lone man dressed in black stepped out of the passenger side of the van and approached them. Justin set down the crate in front of the mysterious man. He kneeled down and pried open to crate and looked inside. John and Justin were about to look as well, but the man told them to back away. He stood up and looked at them and smiled. "This is it. This is what I need."
"Do you have the 500 thou?"
The man in black opened the case, presenting the money. He set case on top of the crate. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." John Jones went for the case, but as he touched the handle. A blade appeared in his face. "If you know what's good for you, you will keep your hands off the cash and beat it."
John took a few steps back waiting for the man in black to put the blade away. He kept his hands up and stepped back some more. As the mysterious man lowered the blade, John charged at the man. The man in black attempted to strike him with his oversized icepick but was evaded. John lunged at the man and gave him a clothesline across the chest, knocking him down. The man got back up quickly and kicked John in the face in five seconds. He turned around and hit a switch on his weapon. The doors from the back of the van opened and four men rushed out each armed with a tommygun.
Justin backed into the Chevy while Jerry was screaming for John to get in the car. Each gunman fired at the same time while two other lackeys and the man in black took the case and the crate. A storm of bullets drilled through John Jones before Justin and the driver. He threw himself into the backseat and screamed, "Floor it! Let's get the fuck out of here!"
Before the man in black got back into the van, he looked at John's fallen body and back at the vehicle fleeing the scene. One of the gunmen looked as well. "What about those guys, Mr. Blackburn?"
"Forget them. They won't tell anybody."
-------------------------------
The Chevy was parked crooked as Jerry and Justin jumped out and headed for a nearby apartment. "You can use the couch this evening, but I want you out by tomorrow night."
"Don't think you're out of the woods. Those bastards spot you, you'll be whacked as well. So we're both waist deep in shit."
"Okay. Okay. I know somebody who might help."
"What do you mean? That crate probably had some kind of virus and some psychopath has possession of it."
"I know he killed your friend. This guy I know doesn't have all the sources but he could get you some work."
"Work?"
"Yeah. You obviously don't know shit about this city. You need to get to know this area and maybe you can get some leads."
"Fine. We'll meet this guy."
(Deadbeat Dork)
Jerry Lynn parked his car in front of an unmarked building. "Here we are, pal." Both men approached the entrance and rang the bell.
"Who the hell is it?" said a low and groggy voice.
"Hey, Scott. It's me, Jerry. I have a friend here also."
"Is he a cop?"
"No."
"Good. Come on in."
The inside of the building only consisted of two rooms. One filled with file cabinets, books and Sports magazines. The main room had only a coffee table and four chairs. The second room had a cluttered desk and a TV sitting across from it and a refrigerator next to it.
A man in his thirties was slouched in his chair staring at the TV. His hair was long and greasy and it appeared that he hadn't shaved in days. It seemed to take him ten minutes or more to finally notice them. A smile appeared on his face once the horse race on television was over. "That's another grand in my pockets. I can get that new cellar for this building now." He looked up at them. "Hey, Jerry. Who's your friend?"
"The name's Justin. Justin Timberwolfe."
"You sure don't look like that faggot from NSUCK."
"The name's Timberwolfe."
"Whatever. I'm Scott Hall. What do you want? Paying up for last week's race?"
"I don't place bets." Justin knew this guy was a bookie. "Jerry said you might help me out."
"Unless you're here for business, get the hell out of here!"
"You got it wrong," Jerry told him. "He needs some help. We were involved in a deal last night and his best friend was hit. It appears to be a money issue."
"That's right, Scott. I'm not trying to sound desperate but it's an emergency. I came from Rhodestown last night. Ten days ago, a friend of mine got busted for a crime he didn't commit. A group breached the security of a government lab and bombed it. He's being tried for conspiracy. There's a lawyer that I know of who can prove his innocence, but I need $90,000."
"Ninety thousand!? Shit! I wish I had that kind of money. I wouldn't be working in this dump if I had that much. Don't waste your time here."
Jerry butted in again. "Scott, I know that you have some connections. Is there anything he could do?"
"How about this, Timberwolfe. I suppose you could do me a favor. Some prissy named Mike Sanders owes me five hundred greenbacks for last weeks Nascar race and he's been trying to weasel his way out. He lives somewhere in Lorry. Go and make an example out of him and I can give you some spending cash for it. You can take the subway to his neighborhood. The station just around the corner."
------------------------
Justin exited the station and looked at the paper with the address written down. "Okay. His apartment isn't too far from here." When he found the condo and the apartment number, he crumbled up the paper and knocked on the door. A snobby looking guy answered the door.
"What do you want?"
"Are you Mike Sanders?"
"Who wants to know?"
Justin planted his knuckles into Sanders' lips. He grabbed his collar and slammed him head first against the walls numerous times and thrust his knee into the guy's gut. As Mike started crawling away, Justin kicked him in the ribs a few times. He lifted the dork up to his feet. "Scott Hall sent me. Consider this a warning." Then he threw Sanders into the door and walked away.
(Disqo Demolition)
Justin entered Scott Hall's office the next day. Scott looked at him a stayed silent for awhile. He was obviously plastered.again. "That was good. I hear you kicked the shit out of him like it was nothing. I knew you could handle it."
"Thanks. Those three hundred bucks were nice, but I have a long way to go."
"Don't get too excited. I have other friends who can provide a lot more.." He gazed at his TV. "Hold on. I wanna hear this." Justin paid no attention to the interview but it involved a driver in an upcoming race. Scott threw down his drink. "Dammit! That bastard!"
"What?"
"I bet on some champ known as Detour. Ten grand and this little shit Gilberti just enhanced his vehicle and is sure to win today."
"What do you want me to do?"
Scott stared at Justin with a sadistic grin. "Maybe you can prevent it. The race is three hours away. Why don't you trash that sucker's car and prevent him from winning." He tossed a set of keys to him. "Take my car, but I expect you to return it by the end of the day."
Justin drove the borrowed Cadilliac to the racing ground. He looked at the building. "How am I gonna do this?" Security seemed to be tight and he had no intention of buying a ticket. He walked around the parking lot and saw a mechanic rummaging through his trunk. He now had an idea. While the mechanic was still looking in the trunk, Justin looked around and struck the man on the back of the neck. He took the toolbox and the jumpsuit off the unconscious man. After a quick change, he calmly walked into the arena.
As he arrived, some guy in a jumpsuit and crash helmet ran to him. It was racer, Glen Gilberti. "It's about time you got here, Seaver."
"Sorry. I was caught in traffic."
"My car needs to be tuned up. The race is in forty-five minutes and I have a champ to beat."
He headed to the garage with Gilberti's prized car. Three other men were already working on it. They looked up at him. "Good to see you, Seaver." One of them stared at him. "You look different. I see you shaved your moustache."
"Yeah. I was getting tired of it." He knew nothing about working on cars or engines. The only option was to damage it. "Guys, how about you take a little break. I'll continue with it." They agreed and walked off. He looked around and found the switch to bring down the garage gate and picked up a crowbar that was lying on a table. Once the garage was shut, he lifted the crowbar above his head and brought it down on the hood of Gilberti's racecar. He repeatedly swung this tool, smashing the windows, denting the exterior and opened up the hood smashing the engine. He used a screwdriver to gouge the tires also. The sound of the garage door rising startled him. He spotted the back door and headed for it before anyone could see him. As he fled, he could hear Glen Gilberti screaming, "NO! MY CAR! I'M GONNA KILL THAT ASSHOLE!" He jumped into the Cadillac and drove straight back to Scott Hall's office. He placed the car keys back on Scott's desk.
Scott was still sitting at his desk and laughing. He stood up and slowly applauded as Justin entered. "Congrats. You just got me a new television and entertainment system." He picked up a pen and wrote him a check.
Justin looked at it. "A thousand dollars?!"
"What's the matter? It's more than last time."
"I know that, but I was almost caught. I could have been arrested."
"Don't worry about it. You got that little shithead out of the race."
"Thanks for the check."
(Beer Run)
The phone rang before Justin could walk out the door. "Hello. Hey, yo," Scott said. He waited. "Kevin, what's going on?" He listened. "That sucks, man. I know a guy. I'll see what we can work out." Scott looked back at Justin. "Hey, Timberlake."
"Timberwolfe."
"Okay. I have yet another offer. I have a friend who owns some bar called The Hangman. Their alcohol supply appears to be tapped out and their delivery was behind schedule. I know of this one gang who gets their profit selling their own brew. They have some trucks that pass through portions of this city. If you could hijack one of their Keggers and deliver it to the bar, I'll pay you double of what I just now gave you."
Justin sighed. "Consider it done."
"Sure. I've gotta lock up. I'll meet you there. Just bring the truck to the back of the building but be careful when you drive around the area. There are cretins that like to inhabit the surroundings."
-----------------------------
Justin was about to start his motorcycle when he thought about the Kegger he was asked to steal. "Where the hell am I supposed to get one of those things? This is a big ass city. I don't have a tracking device or psychic abilities. Sounds like Scott is trying to skip out on me." Being all frustrated he ran to the nearest payphone and called up Jerry Lynn. "Hey, Jerry. Do you have any idea where I could find any unusual looking beer trucks?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Scott Hall and a friend of his named Kevin asked me to steal a beer truck that roams around this by some Smokey and the Bandit cast members."
"Oh yeah. It looks like a delivery truck but it's shaped almost like a beer keg. The side of it reads 'Southern Trendkill.' The main ones frequently run around Horace or Schiavone parts of town. It's still early so you might be able to catch a full tank."
"Thanks." He hung up the phone and took off on his bike. Once he found the Schiavone intersection, he turned into it and circled around the blocks. The sun was already set and he figured at least nobody would spot him clearly if he comes across the Kegger. While his mind was drifting towards something else, he heard a low sounding horn blow, waking him from his daydream. A metal keg shaped truck passed by. He stepped on his pedal and followed the truck. He was relaxed and would be ready to strike when the truck came to a stop sign or a red light. When that time came, he quickly parked his bike and charged at the driver's side or the truck.
He forced open the door and yanked out some guy with a mullet wearing coveralls and pushed him to the ground. Before he jumped in the driver's seat he spotted a guy from the passenger side jump out and come at him. The other guy was fat, had a thick beard and a Confederate bandana. Justin looked back at the guy with the mullet and spotted a pistol on his belt. He kicked the man and snagged his weapon and then pointed it at both guys. "Back away, you stupid rednecks, and no one gets hurt!"
"Who are you calling stupid?" the fat guy yelled back.
Justin slapped the fat guy across the face with the pistol and aimed at the guy with the mullet. He jumped into the driver's seat while other cars behind him blew their horn non-stop. He locked the doors and hit the gas. "To the Hangman."
He didn't have a problem finding the bar and knew at this minute that Scott Hall wouldn't skip out on him. Especially when it came to some good cheap beer. The Kegger proceeded further and entered the South of Nitro City. The Hangman was located in a section that people called the Vampiro. He looked out the window a few times and spotted bums, dealers and thug who were just looking for fights. "Just ignore them, keep driving and don't make eye contact with anyone out there." He passed by one club that looked almost like a castle or a haunted house. The front had a holographic sign reading 'THE BROOD' and looked like blood was dripping from it. There was a line outside the entrance consisting of individuals dressed in black or revealing clothing. "How about that. An Addams Family reunion." After taking two rights and a left the city started looked nicer. Five blocks later, he spotted the Hangman and turned into the back of the building and parked the Kegger. He stopped the engine and jumped out. He knocked on the door and waited to announce a successful delivery.
Some footsteps came from behind him. He turned around and saw a man wearing ragged clothes and reeked of cheap booze and other nasty stuff. He glared at Justin and produced a switchblade. "Gimme all your money, beer boy."
Justin walked calmly toward the homeless man and gave him a high kick to the head, knocking him out cold. "That wasn't too hard." Then the door to the bar opened. It was Scott Hall and he was accompanied by a blond man with long hair and stood seven feet tall.
"Hello there, Justin. You're just in time..hic.. The bar opens soon so let's put it all on tap." He looked back. "This is Kevin Nash. The owner of the Hangman."
"Hello there, Mr. Nash. I'm Justin Timberwolfe."
"Glad to meet you, Justin. And you can call me Kevin. I really appreciate this. Scott told me a lot about you. If there's anything you need, I can help you out."
(Payday)
Justin sat up on the couch that he had been using since staying at Jerry Lynn's home. "God. I'm so fucking tired."
Jerry came from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. "Are you alright? You look hungover."
"I'm not. I only had two beers. I only had two hours of sleep. It was Scott. He got so plastered it wasn't funny. I was planning on leaving by 1a.m. but Scott insisted on staying all night and I had to drive him to his office because I didn't know his address. I also remembered that I had my bike parked somewhere down the Schiavone intersection so I ended up walking home."
"I'm heading off. See you later."
After four miserable hours, trying to get some sleep, he took a quick shower and jumped on a bus and stopped at Scott's office to see what he was up to. "He's probably passed out and lying face first on his desk in a puddle of puke."
He opened the office door, hoping to see what he expected but saw different. Scott Hall was standing on his own two legs and admiring a huge shelf that filled the room that was trashy when he first set foot in the office. There was another man there also. He almost resembled Lex Luger by the build and his face. He looked like he was in early thirties and wore a cheesy suit "Now this is a liquor cabinet. What do you say, Hank?"
"I guess I agree with you. It looks like luck is on your side."
"Oh, hey Justin. This is one of my other friends. Hank Brenner. He runs a car dealership around here." He looked back at his new liquor cabinet. "Hank, this guy is something. He's the man."
Hank shook Justin's hand. "Scott has told me a lot about you."
"Hey, Justin. I'm buying a new car today so you can have my Cadillac," Scott interrupted.
"Looking for a new car?"
"Well, I lost my motorcycle last night."
"I'm not trying to pitch you or anything but how about this, if what Scott says is true, I'm sure I could help you out. Here's my card." Then he left the office.
"Guess what? I just won four bets today. That green is rolling in like hell. I'll be busy today. If you could collect my payroll, that would save me a lot of time. I'll call my guys and let them know you're collecting. Here are the addresses."
-----------------------------
Justin read each address as he got into his rental car. There were two pickups in Sherman View, one in Lorry and one in Schiavone. "This shouldn't take very long." The first three pickups were not a problem as he quickly passed through Sherman View and Lorry. Scott's so-called customers paid up without a problem. There was only one more location and another paycheck would be on the way. He parked his car on the side of the road and walked towards the final address.
There was a note on the door, asking him to use the back door. Justin didn't think too much of it and walked to the back of the building where a lone suitcase was sitting there waiting for him. He slowly picked up the case and opened it. The cash was inside. "I'm good to go." Then he felt something hit him in the back.
Two young men were kicking him when he was down. "Shit. What the hell's this?" Both men decided to stop for a minute, thinking he was done for. Justin got up and punched the guy closer to him. The other guy appeared to be armed with a baseball bat, but it didn't scare him. He speared the guy with the bat before he could swing. He grabbed the bat from the guy's grasp and swung at the other guy striking him in the shoulder. Then he turned around and hit the now unarmed man in the back. "I'll be taking this."
He heard a click from behind him as he was reaching for the case. "It's you again." Mike Sanders had a Colt .45 pressed against the back of Justin's head. "So Scott sent you to do his dirty work I see. Looks like he'll no longer need your service."
Justin shut his eyes, hoping that Mike either forgot to reload his gun, this was just a dream or a miracle would save him. He waited, but no gunshot went off he heard a gasp and the sound of a body hitting a floor. He turned around and saw Sanders getting up and trying to grab the gun he dropped. A tall black man kicked the deadbeat punk in the head, knocking him flat to the ground. "Who the hell are you?"
"Don't worry. I'm a friend of Scott's," the black man said. He picked up Mike's gun.
Justin sprang on Mike Sanders, grabbing him by the ankle and bending it back. He listened to Mike scream while still keeping his eyes on the man who saved him from getting shot.
"Let me go! Let me go! It hurts!"
"What's the deal, jackass! What's the deal with pulling a gun on me?"
"I'm sorry. Take the money. Just don't kill me."
"Fine." He grabbed the case and looked back at Mike. "You might wanna consider giving up gambling. Scott Hall's not the one to fuck with. Me neither." Then he headed for his vehicle.
The black man followed him as he threw the case into the trunk with the rest of them. He looked up at him. "Thanks for the help by the way, but stop following me."
"This isn't a stick up. Scott phoned me right after you left. He knew that sucker Sanders was up to no good and would do anything to skip out on paying."
"Scott never told me anything about you. Who are you anyway?"
The man pushed his long braided hair out of his face. "The name's Booker T."
"Justin. Justin Timberwolfe." Booker began to laugh. "What's so funny? I didn't pick my name." He paused. "Scott had the same reaction. You can call me by the code name I went under back when I served in the Navy. Sea Wolf."
"Sea Wolf. That suits you better. Well, meet me at the Hangman after you deliver Scott's winnings. See ya later." Booker T got into his Thunderbird and took off.
(Competition)
Sea Wolf arrived back at Jerry's apartment and cracked open a can of soda. He dug into his pockets and found the business card that Hank Brenner had given him. It was after six o'clock so he still had time to call. He quickly dialed and waited.
"Colossus Autos, Bonnie speaking."
"Is Hank Brenner available?"
"I'll transfer you." He waited some more and got a response in a minute.
"Hank Brenner speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hello there. This is Justin Timberwolfe. We met this morning. You could say I'm Scott Hall's errand boy."
"Hey there. Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking to buy a car. What do you recommend at a reasonable price?"
"Looking for a new car, huh? I recall you mention that you need one ASAP. How about this? If you could do me a favor, I can help you out. There's a competitor dealership known as Krypton Automobile. They're getting a shipment of some spanking new cars and I'll tell you, it's bad for business. There are three trucks that will be picking them up tomorrow morning. If you can find a way to prevent it, not only will I pay you, but I'll give you an offer you can't refuse."
"Okay."
"I also have a friend named Tommy who works at the scrap yard who can give you some supplies. It'll be around 5 a.m. so you might wanna get some shut eye early. You have a big day tomorrow."
----------------------------------
The taxi dropped Sea Wolf off at the scrap yard. He checked his watch. It was 4:30 in the morning and he barely had any sleep. He was cautious as he entered, remembering that his best friend was murdered here. He drew the pistol that he had stolen from the truck driver two days ago and approaching the meeting area. A clean cut white male in dark clothing was standing by the crusher with a kendo stick in his hand.
"So you must be Justin. I'm Tommy."
"I was told to stop here for some supplies."
"Yes, they're in the van over there."
He looked into the passenger seat and saw a crate filled with sticks of dynamite. "Dynamite! Isn't that intense!"
"No, it's extreme! If we wanted to, we have enough to level Krypton's building and plenty to spare for a rainy day. I'll be assisting you. I slapped a tracking device on the trucks to save us some time." He opened the passenger side and moved the crate of dynamite. "The keys are in the ignition so you'll be driving. Let's go." Tommy looked at the radar while Justin left the scrap yard. "Alright. The closest truck is on Merch Road and will eventually turn on 12th Street that will head towards the pick up. We'll take that street and wait for it to arrive. Then we'll take it out."
Sea Wolf followed the directions and parked at their post. Twelve minutes passed until they spotted the truck. "What do we do?"
"Do you have a good arm?"
"Why?"
"Can you throw good?"
"Yeah." "Than get out of the van and I'll pass you a stick."
Sea Wolf ran to the passenger side and grabbed a stick that Tommy had lit. The truck appeared to be fifty feet away. He tossed it and watched it rolled under the moving truck. The explosion made it leap and then kept going. "Hand me another." Tommy quickly lit another stick and watched it being tossed again. It blew when it hit the front bumper. He grabbed another one and tossed it as the truck was catching fire. The driver jumped out and fled before it flew into bits.
"Two more to go. We only have an hour. Now move it!"
"I don't see you doing much."
"Shut up and get in the van."
They spotted the second truck and planned the same strategy. Sea Wolf jumped out of the van and ran to the passenger side while Tommy lit and stick and passed it to him. He spotted the truck coming their way and tossed it, but realized that it was a bit to early. The stick blew in front of the truck making it swerve and then took a sharp turn toward the next street. "Shit!" He got back into the driver's seat and stepped on the gas. He began to tail the speeding truck while Tommy started complaining.
"What are you doing? We can't blow that thing up from here. We'll catch him at another route."
"No! He knows were after him. We'll chase this bastard. Now light another stick once we get close to it." Tommy did so, but missed and heard the explosion as they passed by. The truck side swiped them when they caught up. Sea Wolf gave the van more gas, only to get swiped again.
"Watch it!" Tommy yelled.
"You aren't the one driving. And buckle your damn seatbelt!" The driver's side scraped against a wall after being hit by the truck. When they managed to catch up. Sea Wolf looked at Tommy. "Throw one! Now!" Tommy tossed another stick into the driver's side window of the truck. The driver panicked for a moment as his truck was swerving side to side and then tossed it back, but lucky for Sea Wolf and Tommy, it bounced off their hood and exploded on the sidewalk. "Here's my gun. Just shoot the son of a bitch." Tommy fired as their windows crossed paths. The driver dropped dead at the wheel and the truck accelerated and crashed into building. He glared at Tommy. "Where's the last one?"
"Let me see. Okay. We'll stay on this road here and I'll tell you when we turn." After catching up with the third truck, Tommy looked at the truck and at Sea Wolf. "Got any ideas?"
"We'll do what it takes to destroy this one."
Tommy poked out of the window and started shooting at the tires, hoping to slow it down as Sea Wolf sped up and rammed into it. The truck's driver fired back also, making the van swerve. Tommy threw another stick rolling into the path of the truck but only slowed it down, but knocked it into the van.
"Do the back doors open?"
"Yes."
"Hang on to your ass!" He sped ahead of the truck and Tommy crawled to the back and kicked open the doors and tossed a stick of dynamite at the ongoing truck but missed. He tried a few more times but kept missing while the truck driver continued to fire from his seat. He hit the gas and rammed the back of the van, causing it to spin uncontrollably throwing Tommy out of the back. Sea Wolf got out of the van and checked on Tommy. "You alright?"
"Yeah. Just a few scrapes but I'll live."
"Come on. We've gotta catch him or he go to the cops unless he changes his mind and decides to kill us himself." Both men went back to the van, but the engine wouldn't run. He looked at the speedometer and found that they were out of gas. "Dammit! How are we gonna catch him now?!"
"Look at that!" An El Gato was coming down the road. Tommy stood in the way and brandished the gun Sea Wolf had given him. He yanked the man out and waited for Sea Wolf to take the driver's seat. "Let's get him, Justin!"
Tommy continued to stare at the radar while Justin sped towards the speeding truck. "Tommy, we're almost at him. Get ready to toss another and don't stop until we get him."
"Fuck!" There was only one dynamite stick in his hand. "We left the rest in the van!"
"We'll have to find another way. Whatever it takes!" He sped past the truck at the end of a street near two parked cars. "Okay, pal. That truck's coming! Now throw it between those cars!"
"What?"
"Do it! It's coming!"
Tommy tossed the dynamite and watched both cars blow and fly into the middle of the street. The oncoming truck hit the brakes and crashed into the totaled cars before them. Sea Wolf pulled the driver out of the truck and shoved him into a corner. Tommy picked up his kendo stick that he had carried the whole time and smacked the guy in the head with it, jumped into the truck with Justin and fled. "Now what?"
"Tommy, you're the one driving! We could just wreck it and leave it burning but that would start a scene or we'd get ourselves killed. Or we could take it to the scrap yard and let the crusher have it."
"The crusher will be fine." When they finally got to the scrap yard, they parked it and let the crusher to the rest.
Sea Wolf listened to the sound of crunching metal and let out a sigh of relief. "Damn. I'm glad that's over with. Thanks for your help, Tommy."
"Don't mention it. If you need dispose of anything in the near future, you'll know where to find me."
"Cool."
"Now let's go see Mr. Brenner and pick up our pay for this deed."
-------------------------------
"That's great, guys. I am ahead of the game now," Hank Brenner exclaimed. "Here are your checks." Both men smiled as they looked at the amount. Twenty five hundred seemed reasonable but they wouldn't have done it for less. After Tommy left, Hank spoke to Sea Wolf. "It looks like you have done me a favor so here's my offer. Yesterday, you told me how you were in need for a car, so here's what I'm going to do. I have a great selection of vehicles and if you need to borrow any, you're welcome to it just as long as you bring it back and don't wreck it."
"Sure. Thanks, Mr. Brenner."
"No problem. Here's a key to the building and the keys to the vehicles are in that room over there and have a good day. I'll keep in touch if I need your help again."