Fin’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He answered it, and then listened to whoever was on the other side. “Sure thing,” he laughed, and all attention went to him. When he hung up, he chuckled and looked at our dad. “Hey, Dad, Agent Larue said his guys were going to need their vehicle back when you're done here.”
“Dad, you didn’t?” Michael chuckled.
“Hey, they had me blocked in. And really, they are law enforcement, they should know better than to leave keys in their vehicle—even in a fairly good neighborhood,” my dad said and shrugged. Everyone in the room laughed, but then quickly sobered when Jet showed up on the screen.
“Holy shit, he left his piercing in. Talk about badass. Those will hurt like a mother if they get ripped out,” Petal said and shivered.
“I don’t think they really crossed his mind,” I said but watched the screen.
Jet bounced in the corner and spoke to Harm as Aristov did the same in his corner. No sound was coming through.
“What are they waiting for?” Fin said. I wasn’t sure if he expected an answer or was just speaking out loud because he was focused on the screen also.
“Not sure, feed is streaming through, they just haven’t kicked the sound on yet,” Reese said.
A couple minutes passed, and then the door to the arena opened, and a man walked in and step into the middle of the ring. Jet and Aristov turned to face him. There was some crackling in the speakers, and then the man’s voice followed.
“I’ve been informed by the party who brings you this live entertainment that they wanted to show their appreciation for your continued support by bringing you the ultimate fight. The betting clock will be reset with five minutes on it. This additional betting opportunity is being afforded to you and has a minimum of one million American dollars to start, there will be no maximum placed on the betting amounts. Once the betting time expires, the fight will begin without delay. The party is bringing this one-time event to acknowledge a special viewing audience and hopes everyone enjoys the “Death Match.” The scene went blank and five minutes started ticking down.
The room erupted, and it took a minute for me to zone back in on what was going on around me. My best friend, another brother to me, was in a damned death match.
Chapter Eighteen
Sean
“Holy shit, get Briggs on the phone. Now! I’m calling Larue,” Tony yelled, and Ranger already had his phone out and was screaming into it, and Tony did the same with his phone.
“Jesus, they acknowledged us. Fuck, there’s our answer why they brought the ringer in and cut the gang out,” Fin said.
“I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass about why or how. They need to send agents in there and bust that shit up. I don’t care if Bogdan walks. Jet is what is important. He is in this fight to help us!” I yelled.
“He’s important to us, too, Sean. Shit, Ranger will get Briggs to make the call and get the agencies sent in there,” Fin said.
I put my face in my hands and thanked God Brit wasn’t there. It was bad enough hearing the sobs from Petal and Mel. Then I thought about everything I would need to do to set Brit up for life. My mind raced, I wouldn’t need any money because I would be in jail for murdering Bogdan if Jet was killed in the fight.
“I’m in!” Mace yelled.
“What?” I lifted my head and looked at Mace.
“While the Russian shithead was talking, they bounced the signal. It bounced back to the warehouse right when they cut the feed. We are in!” Mace yelled and pounded on keys. He would need to locate the other camera in the building, then we could see anyone or hear anything said outside the area the fight was taking place. When the FBI, DEA, or the local cops stormed the building, the eyes would help them in what awaited them inside.
“Dad, you don’t want to do that,” Michael said.
“What’s he want to do?” I asked.
“He wants to put ten million dollars of the money allotted to him out of the government’s installment,” Michael answered, and Dad stood.
“Listen to me. They expect that boy to lose. Which is fucking bullshit and I won’t tolerate it! Look at the screen, the odds are against him, making the payout fifty to one and rising. The fucking bastards will have to cover the bet, or they will lose credibility with their clients. That is five hundred million dollars paid upon the loss, and they will lose their ringer, too. They don’t care about Jet’s life, we do. So, we hit what they do care about, money. They wanted to give us a message. Fuck them. Send our own message. Back our man and show those slimy bastard what family means.” Dad looked around and lifted his brow. His face was red from yelling.
“Dad, Jet could lose. He wouldn’t want you or us to give those bastards more money to spend on drugs, weapons, and whatever else they do with it,” I whispered.
“There are only two minutes left, we need to do it now!” Dad yelled, and Cal walked to him and whispered something in his ear and Dad sat down.
“I’m not saying this is the way to go. It is a huge power play. But the move could bring them out in the open. Bogdan will be pissed about the money, and it will be a slap in his face that we didn’t run scared. He’ll make a mistake, and then we can take him and his organization down,” Ranger said.
“We don’t have time to cover where the money is coming from. Reese and I set up the KO Ink broker account for the government to make their yearly installments into it,” Michael said, but I could see his mind working it out.
The clock ticked down and we were running out of time fast. Tony hung up with Larue and Ranger was off the phone with Briggs.
“Why do we need to hide? If they know it’s us, wouldn’t the money coming in for KO Ink kinda be like giving them the middle finger? They know it’s us so the money coming from KO Ink could be the ‘we know who you are, too,’” Falon said, and we all turned to look at him.
“Christ, that actually made sense,” Fin said.
“Reese?” Michael said.
“While everyone was talking, I put the account number in. I only need to hit the send,” Reese said.
“Fuck, I’m with Dad. But I say it comes off the top of the money,” Michael said.
“I agree,” Bry said.
“Anyone got an objection?” Michael asked. Everyone in the room shook their head no. “Send it, Reese.” Every set of eyes in the room watched Reese as he tapped the key.
“Dad, you going to be okay?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Just tired of those bastards. People like that need put down. Every one of you has had a part in trying to help this community. This whole thing has affected the kids the most. And I’m proud of each one of you. Call me selfish, but I want it over. I want my family to be able to walk out of their houses or go about their normal lives without protection. I want you boys to be able to focus on your businesses, enjoy your own families or work on getting your own family. I want this shit taken care of so my grandchildren can be born, and we can enjoy every minute of them without worrying when something else is going to happen.” Dad reached up and wiped a tear before it could roll down his cheek. Petal and Mel leaned in and kissed his cheeks, and he smiled at them. I rubbed the back of my neck. This shit had taken a toll on everyone.
I looked at Tony and Ranger who were off their phones but still held them in their hands.
“Are they sending agents?” I asked.
“Yes, Briggs is down the block with eyes on the warehouse. It’s going to take time to get them there. He will call back with specifics,” Ranger said.
“Trey is calling his boss. He will call back, too,” Tony said.
“Fuck, the fight could be over before anyone gets there,” I said and pinched my nose.
“When they get there, they will only be able to break up the fight. There are the fighter and his manager, Harm and Jet, and two in a room off to the left side of the warehouse. One is the man who got out of the vehicle that picked Harm and Jet up. I’m assuming the other one was the driver. The man
that spoke earlier left after his little speech. Where Briggs is sitting, he wouldn’t have seen the man. He left out a side door and walked to the back of the warehouse, got into a black sedan and pulled out the alley, which led the one street over,” Mace said while still focused on his computer.
“Why didn’t you put the shots up on the TV screen?” Fin asked, and Mace looked up.
“You guys had a little more important shit going on when I brought the available camera in the area up. I’m recording, and I’m sending the feed to Briggs’ computer. If something of urgency had come up, I would have interrupted,” Fin nodded.
“What are the two in the side room doing?” Cal asked as he moved to stand behind Mace.
“They have to be errand boys or muscle because since I turned the camera on in the room, they have been sitting at the table playing cards. They haven’t said anything either,” Mace said and looked over his shoulder at Cal.
“Well, the fight is to the death, they’d need someone there to depose of the body,” Ranger said.
“When Jet kills the other man, and I say when because he will. What are the repercussions for him?” I asked and looked at Ranger.
“It will be looked at as self-defense, and it will have happened because he was in a collaborative effort with the DEA and FBI to bring down not only the Russians but the 8.3.0. I made sure my captain got it in writing from each agency’s director, and the agreement covers every one of you. My captain kept a copy and turned the originals over to the commissioner. It’s not authorizing you to be a vigilante, but if put in a position where it’s one of them or you, then it is written as a terrible incident that couldn’t be avoided. It’s as simple as that,” Ranger said.
“Thanks, Ranger,” I said and looked up at the screen.
The money being bet in the special betting time was calculated on the screen for each fighter. With the last thirty seconds ticking off Aristov held the majority of the money bet at two hundred and fifty million and counting. Jet had only twelve million showing under his name, and ten of it was ours. With what was showing under Aristov’s name, there wasn’t enough to cover our bet at fifty-one, but we didn’t know how much the first round of betting had brought in. Those numbers they didn’t show. I watched the clock count down the last seconds...twelve...ten... The number under Jet jumped to sixty-two million. I blinked, and then watched the last five seconds tick off. Betting was officially closed, and next would be Jet literally fighting for his life.
“What the fuck just happened?” Fin asked and turned to Reese who was hitting keys.
“Shit, I’m looking for it,” Reese said, and then Cal moved over behind him. I got up and walked around the table to join him. Coded numbers were running across the screen on Reese’s laptop.
“There!” I pointed as at a row of numbers flashed, and Reese froze the screen.
“Camera is up for the fight,” Reed said, and I glanced to the TV as Jet faced Aristov and they waited for the signal. Jet’s face was blank of all emotion. I was glad to see him focused on the man in front of him.
“Nice job, Sean,” Reese said and went back through the numbers, hit several more keys, then the information came up.
“Well, are you going to share what the hell you’ve found, or do you expect the rest of us to guess?” my dad asked.
“It was a single bet for fifty million. Reese tracked the transaction back, it came from a bank in Russia. The account number is there, but the owner of the account is coded, it will take some time to break the coding. Once it’s broke still doesn’t guarantee the actual owner’s name,” Cal said. I moved away to get closer to the TV screen.
“It could be an individual, but that kind of money screams front company. Good luck digging to find the actual person who placed the bet,” Ranger said.
“Can we worry about that later?” my dad said and stood and walked to stand by me as the first punches in the match were thrown.
Life and death. Two sides linked to every individual. I wondered briefly how many people ever got the opportunity to control both those outcomes. Life: no one, it was given by someone else. But death: it comes with many variables. Some controlled, and some not. For one fighter in this match, death would come with the loss of control to a variable someone else put into play.
“Fuck, what is Aristov on. I’ve been the recipient of those punches from Jet, and Aristov isn’t even flinching,” Reed said.
“He’s roided up,” Petal answered. “Probably mixed with other shit, too. He isn’t feeling any pain. I wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole was frothing at the mouth.”
“Dammit, Jet, watch the man’s left foot!” Fin yelled as Aristov planted his right foot and kicked with his left, landing the blow on Jet’s ribs. Jet flinched but adjusted quick enough to catch Aristov’s middle unprotected and jabbed out, not with a fist but the with his fingers bent so when his punch landed it was with the bottom of his palm. The punch made contact with Aristov above the stomach and centered where the ribcage meets in the middle. That caused Aristov to stagger back.
“Bastard felt that shit!” Mel yelled.
“That’s it, son, go after him,” Dad said as Jet moved on Aristov taking advantage of his temporary loss of footing. Aristov blocked most of the incoming punches from Jet. Aristov’s back hit the ropes, which gave him back his balance.
Aristov moved forward, both fighters turning to boxing as they moved back to the center of the ring. Aristov was breathing heavily, where Jet showed no signs of loss of breath. It could be caused by the acceleration of heart due to the drugs in Aristov’s system with his age and extra weight a contributing fact, too.
Jet positioned and kicked out only to have Aristov catch his leg and drive him back. Before Aristov could twist Jet’s leg, Jet twisted his body and fell to the mat bringing Aristov down along with him. The move had Aristov releasing Jet’s leg to maneuver his body for the fall.
“Thank God, Jet is quick,” Tony said as Jet rolled and, instead of Aristov landing on top of him, he hit the mat.
Jet moved and was on top of Aristov before he could bounce back up on his feet. Jet straddled him and punched while Aristov blocked the blows and worked his hips to throw Jet off.
Aristov threw an elbow and made contact with Jet’s brow, splitting it open. Blood poured from the wound and ran over and in Jet’s eye. Aristov bucked, and Jet fell off and bounced to his feet as Aristov grabbed for him.
Jet used the back of his hand to wipe the blood away from his eye. The action fruitless as the blood continued to run. Aristov lunged, wrapped Jet up and tossed him into the ropes. Jet bounced against, and Aristov threw punch after punched as Jet tried to block each one. I knew his vision was impaired in the one eye as Jet kept his hand up to protect that side of his face, leaving him to throw punches with his other hand.
We watched as Aristov stepped back, planted his foot and spun. The roundhouse kick made contact to Jet’s head on the right side where his vision was already affected, but thankfully Jet partially blocked it. Costing Aristov the full force of his kick.
Jet’s head jerked to the left, and Aristov took advantage battering Jet’s middle with blow after blow. The sounds coming from the speakers were grunts as each punch landed. Overlaid by the sound of heavy breathing. Aristov was panting while Jet’s breathing was accelerated.
“Jet needs to get the asshole back to the mat. Aristov has the advantage standing with his size,” my dad said.
I heard a cell ding but didn’t take my eyes off the screen to see whose phone it was. Everyone continued to yell out as if Jet could hear them. Both men had the beginning of bruises plastered over areas of their body. Who knew how much time had passed as Jet and Aristov countered move after move.
“That was Larue, his director called in some agents. They are in gathering gear and should be in route in three minutes. Should be at the warehouse in twenty,” Tony said.
“Well, let’s pray they make before this fight ends. Both are hanging on, but I’m not
sure for how much longer at the pace they’re going,” Fin said.
“That cut Jet has isn’t slowing,” Mel said just as Jet spun and threw out his elbow. Aristov anticipated a kick and dropped his arm enough that his nose took the full blow and blood sprayed, coating him and Jet.
Aristov stepped back and wiped at his nose as Jet turned and countered with the kick Aristov had first expected. Jet grabbed Aristov’s arm and held on after his kick landed to Aristov’s ribs, giving small, less power kicks in repeat to the same area. The drugs Aristov was on must have been on their way out of his system as he flinched as each kick made contact. He nose continued to pour blood as much as Jet’s cut on his brow.
Another ring of a phone was answered as I watched Aristov spin to dislodge Jet’s hold on his arm. When his body came back, he grabbed for Jet and wrapped his arms around him. He lifted Jet off his feet. Jet reached behind and wrapped an arm around the back of Aristov’s neck, and as he pulled his head toward him, Jet threw his own head back. This time the contact was Aristov’s eye. The man’s cheek split open adding more blood to flow from Aristov’s nose, but the hit caused him to release the hold on Jet.
“FBI agents en route, Brigg said ETA is ten minutes,” Ranger yelled out.
“They’re never going to make in time,” Dad said and continued to watch the screen as I did.
Jet turned and lunged, shouldering Aristov and sending him off balance to the mat. The men rolled, Aristov on top trying for position. Jet keeping off with his quickness. The advantage changed between each man a dozen times, each time one of the men took another hit. Ribs, head, face. Both men’s bodies showing exactly how brutal the fight was.
Jet tossed Aristov off, and as Aristov’s back was to Jet’s front, Jet wrapped an arm around the man’s neck. He pulled back, and Aristov arched with the move, allowing Jet the advantage of wrapping his legs around Aristov’s torso, locking the man’s arms down. With Jet’s long legs, he was able to cross his ankles.
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