O-kay, more followers and people who added this story as a favorite! Thank you so much! X-Over Appreciator, Taledict and dragonmaycry12 thank you again. Just hoping I can get some reviews...I like reading those...
A certain day of a certain month, 2006 in Detroit, Michigan—
"Beltway, I'm sorry to ask you repeatedly, but why exactly are we here again? I quite liked Japan, you know?" Spectre grumbled as he frowned at two computer screens in a motel. The flickering light was getting on his nerves, the interior was outdated and absolutely hideous, and the view was horrid. Beltway had ordered room service for three but there seemed no point in expecting anything good.
"You know what kind of place this is, right? This is the top five states with the highest criminal activity in all of America. The streets are crawling with street walking scum from minor league to major league. And their income: drugs."
Spectre slammed the laptops shut once he shut them off, his patience running dangerously thin. "I'm ex-KGB, ex-FSB with connections to Bratva. Everybody knows that in criminal underworld. We should be going after bigger fish. We could have gone to Mexico or Columbia. They are real major leaguers with deep pockets. Either that or we could go to LA. I've been told there is a Chechen executive on a holiday there. We could have fun and make money."
"Vladimir, you remember what Lupo said, right?" Beltway pushed a printed copy of an e-mail sent from Lupo. Spectre straightened up, surprised being addressed by his real name. Looking down at the e-mail, he realized the gravity of the situation that he was in.
Beltway, as you know during the shifts on the long vacations Viper helps us out with our work overseas. This time it is procuring funds, but it is also a test to gauge how proficient he is as of now. How you do it is up to you and I will not mind pushing him hard, but under no circumstances will you get him incapacitated or killed. If you do, I will kill you myself.
—L
PS: According to GMT, it is Viper's thirteenth birthday. Get him a present.
"How exactly are we going to come up with funds in Detroit? And if you say stick up every drug gang within a five mile radius, consider me gone in the wind after I kill you."
"Hey hey, chill. Chill, man. Lemme finish. There's a big-shot in the streets from Mexico who owes me big. He gave me an invitation to an underground fight club that's open during the day to throw the cops off the trail. We'll make Viper an unofficial entry."
Spectre broke out in peals of laughter. Even if Viper had walked through war zones all of his life, throwing a child who should be having fun in middle school into a fighting pit with no gloves or rules, Lupo would be calling for blood if she ever found out.
Viper himself was snoring face down on the couch. He had been asleep since he was in the plane, and not even a slap to the face would even stir him or make him flinch, so Beltway had to carry him.
"And what does this big-shot that owes you big want in return?"
"Fee for introducing the place. Ten percent of our total winnings and twenty if he bets on it with his own money. I wasn't in the mood for haggling, so I said yes. Lupo didn't set an exact amount, but for now our aim is one mill. If Viper's good, we'll win more than that."
Spectre knew that he could make more at a casino in less time, but kept that to himself. As a minor, Viper would not be able to enter and the gauging would be impossible there. "If Karena finds out, she will not stop at killing you, and the same would go for me as a form of collective responsibility."
"Then we'll just have to make sure Viper gives it all he's got for our sake. Besides, he took down Lickers with a knife and a single grenade like some mix between Vector and me. He'll persevere as long as it ain't a Tyrant."
Just as Beltway finished, there was a knock at the door. "Room service."
"Wake him up. We'll leave after lunch."
"You split mine with Viper. I'll find a better establishment to eat. Eating here will make shitty food taste even shittier."
Viper immediately understood the kind of "work" he was going to perform as he gazed out the car window in the backseat as Beltway pulled the car over. "I didn't hear anything about this."
"Oh stop your bitching. Lupo gave me full control for where, when, how and what I test you on. It's your first time, so we'll stick with one fight for today." There were some possibilities of unsolicited fights starting after official matches, but he kept quiet about those.
Once they reached the ring, there was a fight going on already. It was a crude one, with the circle made by the spectators while the two men in the middle were trying to tear each other to pieces.
The three were greeted by a stocky, middle aged man in a white suit with his hair slicked back and wearing a smile on his face. "Hector Hivers," he chuckled holding his hand out towards Beltway and looking up at him, "nice to see you again."
"You lose weight?"
"Five pounds. Cutting back on the tequila."
Viper eyed the man's clothing and accessories: tattoos, gold watches and rings, and a diamond stud in his ear. Everything about him screamed run-of-the-mill gangster underboss.
The fight ended and the man laying unconscious on the ground was dragged away by a pair of equally burly men, a man with a loudspeaker shoved his way through the crowd, announcing the next fight. Beltway and Spectre pushed people aside, making way for Viper to pass through to the center of the ring. Participating in an illegal prize fight in and of itself is nothing new or strange, but Viper could feel gazes of suspicion, underestimation, bloodlust, and mixtures of the three boring holes into him.
"Viper, I'm sure you could tell by the last one, but just in case, there are some rules: no weapons, entertain the crowd, and have fun."
"And win," Spectre added. "That's what we are here for. Just be careful, there's no pads, and considering your stature, vital point or not any hit will be more than painful."
"I got it, geez. Vector taught me how to fight bigger guys since I came. I'll be alright." Viper saw no worrying factors. It was no different from training besides the absence of safety gear. None of his potential opponents are as fast as Vector, or as big as Beltway, or as ruthless as Lupo, or bloodthirsty as Bertha, or as crafty as Spectre.
The corners of Viper's mouth loosened into a thin but visibly maniacal smile which he was failing to suppress. His body was unconsciously trembling with glee. He could fight again. He can tear an enemy apart again. Facing that fact was making his body react in ecstatic pleasure.
"Hey hey, what the fuck's a little kid like him doing here? He get lost or somethin'?" A dark skined man with a red bandana wrapped around his head stooped down to Viper's eye level, pinching his cheek. Viper scrunched his face slightly at the penetrating stench of cheep liquor, cigarettes and the distinct smell of marijuana but kept his smile, both body and mind prepared, itching for a fight.
"I'm not lost. If you're the one that's supposed to fight me, get in line. If not, then stay out of my way, stand in the side lines, shut the fuck up, and take a shower." With blinding speed, Viper slapped the hand pinching his cheek out of the way and grabbed his index and middle finger, deftly bending it backwards and breaking both of them. While Viper cannot overcome bigger opponents with pure strength, he was strong enough to destroy fingers, wrists, ankles, knees and other joints. He silenced the man squealing in pain nursing the injured hand with a head-butt to the nose. Once his head reeled back, the face, chin, throat, stomach and groin were exposed. Bringing his foot back, Viper proceeded to take him apart, landing one strike after another with surgical accuracy before finishing the man off with a roundhouse kick, the thigh making solid contact to the neck. Beltway just laughed as he pushed the now unconscious fool drenched in his own blood out of their path with his foot.
"Alright, all you sick bloodthirsty motherfuckers! Eyes to the center now! We got a new kid in town, unofficial entry. Y'all just saw what went down. Wanna give him a chance?" Most of the crowd who seemed skeptical were now whooping, whistling and applauding after seeing the previous display of savage combat proficiency. "This is gonna be our last fight of the night, but I will guarantee you, you will be begging for more from this kid, so get your stacks of greens ready! His opponent, straight from our state's St. Louis penal system: the man with the iron fists, the tank incarnate! The unstoppable…..HOOWAAAAAARD THE HOWITZEEEEEER!"
The crowd cheered on a man whose stature stood head and shoulders above Viper, demonstrating his prowess through his quick footwork and rapid punches. Viper walked up to him standing about two feet away and removed his shirt, tossing it away. While Howard took a classic boxing stance bouncing on the balls of his feet, Viper took nothing resembling a stance of any martial art, only slightly swinging from side to side and keeping a close eye on the opponent just like a venomous snake rearing its head, biding its time to strike.
Howard made the first move, measuring the distance with rapid left jabs. Viper danced around them pivoting on one foot, smirking. The jabs were too slow. Vector's jabs were as fast and as heavy as a major leaguer's fastball, but these were like underhanded throws by comparison. The rapid punches continued to hit nothing but air, and Viper began his counterattack once Howard's right arm completely extended. He stepped to the outside of the extended arm and slammed an uppercut into the unguarded armpit followed by an uppercut catching the tip of the jaw. Viper was about to finish him off by jumping up to slam his knee into the solar plexus, but remembered Beltway's words: entertain the crowd. Relaxing his fists, he did several backflips and took a stance he had seen in a kung fu movie, sticking his tongue out. The crowd went wild, cheering the boy on.
An angry opponent is an easy opponent, Lupo had said over the years. And she was right. Immediately Howard's temper flared as he rushed in, throwing a flurry of punches. Viper bobbed and weaved around them, continuing to taunt him, making the attacks sloppier. The moment he found an opening, Viper struck, stepping in closer and slamming a left hook into Howard's liver. He followed through with a chop to the side of the neck, and a right straight. All of them made solid contact, making Howard drop to his knees, whose complexion was pale and contorted in pain.
"Stop moving around, underdog," Viper growled, but Howard swung his fist, only to be caught, arm and all. "And stay down." The crowd was now silent as they listened in horror to the sickly crunching noise of bones snapping and Howard screaming. By the time it was done, Howard's right thumb and wrist were broken. The elbow followed the same fate as well, along with a torn ligament.
"Nicely done. But don't you think you went a little overboard?" Spectre frowned slightly as he handed a bottle of water and a towel to Viper.
"Underestimating this thirteen year old was his mistake, and doing so with me of all people has a steep price. I read in a book before that ginormous anacondas not only strangle their prey but also crushes bones and puts a shit ton of pressure to the organs. And even if their prey is on the brink of death, they hold them like that for over ten minutes to make sure. Venomous snakes bite several times for the same reason. Besides, overkill is underrated."
"Your merciless attitude is resembling Vector and Bertha more and more, and honestly, it's a little frightening. All the fucked up aspects of you are maturing quickly. Ah well. Let's celebrate." Beltway collected their winnings in an old baseball cap and gave his man his cut.
As they drove off, Beltway pulled over near a tattoo parlor another friend of his owned and let Viper choose whatever tattoo he desired. Without hesitation, he pointed to the roman numeral seven and a tribal wolf tattoo, which he requested to be put below the right clavicle and left shoulder blade respectively.
Viper continued to fight for about a week, gleefully taking his opponents apart and leaving them beyond full recovery, succeeding in making several times more profit than anticipated.