Post by Deleted on Feb 18, 2014 2:22:33 GMT -5
As you can all see, Michael made it to his match in time after his harrowing escape from New Orleans. After putting out his feelers to some of his old comrades, both in the intelligence and criminal worlds, he felt justified in his paranoia.
He never bothered to check into the hotel that he was supposed to stay in, opting to instead buy an old Dodge Ram Van with cash and sleeping in it. When he made his mandatory Twitter updates, which now involve mostly stoking the ire of the over-inflated DOO, Johnny Nitro, he did so with an IP scrambler in a public area. Or was his name Joey Nitro? Who cares, this ass clown will be gone just as fast as he arrived.
And, of course, the standards of everyone involved in the match, to include his partners, were very low. Although Michael had to give Jayden Thunder a nod for getting up from two very devastating maneuvers that he once saw an old wrestler use that looked very devastating. They called it "No Mercy", just like the last move he used last week, they called "No Escape". Michael just called it "effective". Though Michael was certain at this point that Jayden didn't have very many brain cells functioning anymore, and being dropped on his head in such a manner was not as effective to him as it was to most people. Either way, Michael was not surprised that he walked away with the win once again.
However, those who had an interest in him had once again reconvened in the bowels of The Pentagon to discuss how to deal with Michael, since they now had no way of really pinpointing his location since New Orleans, save for the matches he's involved in. The meeting hadn't even started, but the tension was already high when Congressman Jenkins entered the room, saying...
Jenkins: What do we have?
Jacobs: After New Orleans, he went off-grid completely. Whenever he makes posts on the Internet, he's using an IP scrambler so I can't pinpoint his location.
Reardon: Even worse is that he managed to bug out after spotting some agents. Some idiot agent from the field office in New Orleans had some kid try to do his job for him. Even worse than that, there's some chatter in the underground that there's a price on his head. You'll never guess how much.
Jenkins: I take it that its high enough that every whack-job who thinks he knows something would go after him.
Reardon: Yeah. A million dollars is on his head. The word is that after we presumed his death, he galavanted all around Asia ripping off criminal enterprises and crippling illicit business. Most of his damages were to the sex and slave trades, though he took out some of India's drug and weapons trade. Probably used all of that to fund his ventures.
Bell: So he's officially off the reservation. Did he have any associates during all of that time?
Reardon: Still looking into that, but these guys aren't being very forthcoming to us about this info.
Gill: He's already paranoid beyond belief. If he finds out that they put out a million-dollar hit on him, he might tunnel underground and we'll never find him. He needs protection.
Bell: How do you propose that? We can't even find him! How in the fuck do you propose we protect a guy we can't find? Hell, from what I understand, once his match was over, nobody could find him in the building!
Reardon: How did you know that?
Bell: You think you're the only guy here that doesn't have intelligence sources?
Jenkins: Okay, enough! Gill, I need a work-up on all the freelance guys in country right now that works for our government. He's not to be touched under any circumstances. Jacobs, you do the same internationally. Reardon, find out where he's going next, then I want you to canvass every single hotel, airport, bus station, gas station. You name it, and you hit it. Keep it quiet, though. We're not talking nationwide manhunt, here. Once he's spotted, we keep an SRT unit on him at all times, but we do not bring him in unless its under his own volition.
Bell: And once again, I'm left with my dick in my hand...
Jenkins: You're here to provide insight into the Colonel's mind, and nothing more. So unless you have something important to let us in on, I'd suggest you sit there and be happy. You're not the first person I had in mind for this position, and you are replaceable.
Once again, Brigadier General Bell is stewing in his chair at the blatant attack from Congressmen "Jerkins", as he likes to call him behind his back. Even worse, he felt as if he was being drawn as insignificant in the presence of the others. But it isn't everyday that you're in the presence of the Director of the FBI, the NSA, and DOD. He knew his role would be smaller, but to be outright insulted was it for him.
Bell got to his feet and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He'd handle this his way. And with that million dollars up for grabs, this just made doing what he had to do a little sweeter, and he had the perfect person in mind to pull this off.
Meanwhile, Congressman Jenkins says...
Jenkins: I want all of you to keep an eye out for him. He fought too damn hard for this job, only to offer up extreme solutions.
Reardon: Honestly, we had better options for a liaison. From what I understand, Bell and him used to go at it on a constant basis. Rumor is that he led Steele into a trap, but its never been confirmed.
Gill: I've heard the same rumor, but anyone who knew anything sensitive about the mission is dead or presumed dead. We've never been able to follow up on it, especially after he picked up a star.
Jenkins: God, I hate it when they promote assholes because they're incompetent or they fuck up! I hate my job sometimes... Just keep an eye on Bell to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And keep me updated on everything! Meeting adjourned.
________________________
Raj: How is this fuck still alive?
Mikhail: Yes, how is he still alive?
The Dragon just shook his head at the stupidity of the questions, as he says through his translator...
Dragon: None of this was going to happen overnight, gentlemen. With a million dollars on the line, no self-respecting assassin is just going to go all half-cocked against someone like Michael Steele. It would be suicide. I implore each of you to ask your top assassins if they would take on Michael Steele with no plan.
Yoshi: The Dragon has a point. We are in no rush to get men killed, though I can say that we are monitoring the situation as it unfolds.
Mikhail: We have nothing. We've put the word out on the street, but so far, he's not in an area where it's advantageous for us to strike.
Yoshi: And that is because you are afraid to do what is necessary, and leave your comfort zone. But that's okay, because I have my top assassin on him as we speak. That million dollars will be mine before the week is over...
________________________
Little did Michael know that there was someone else hot on his trail...
And even worse than that, it wasn't even a criminal threat, but rather it was another old "friend". An old friend in Bell's pocket.
He had no clue that there was a million dollars on Michael's head, but that didn't stop him from carrying out his mission. Especially when the mission calls for bringing down an old operator that had gone off the reservation once everyone assumed that he was dead. And that broke his heart, considering how much he had respected and admired Michael Steele during his time serving with him. But he also knew how much five years can change a man once his views have been altered.
He knew there was more to the story on how Michael met his end in Pakistan, that perhaps Brigadier General Bell was not being quite forthright with all the information that he has relayed. But the bottom line was that Michael was no longer toeing the company line and had worked against America's interests. And who knows how long it would be before he struck out against the United States outright. What kind of damage would Major Steele do if he was to make an attack on a major American city? Was this wrestling thing just a cover so he could scout out every major American city in order to facilitate an attack later on?
That was a risk that Captain Carl Riggs was not going to take. He had spent the last ten years of his career defending the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic, and he'll be damned if he allowed one of his heroes to become that enemy. With something like this, they'll give him the gold leafs for this if he's able to do what is expected of him. Maybe even a medal. It would be a nice bump in pay for bringing down one of the biggest threats that the United States has faced from a domestic terrorist since Timothy McVeigh. Carl just hoped that he was able to bring him down before he caused that kind of damage.
________________________
The next stop for Michael was Dallas, where he was to face Benjamin Atreyu, James Fatel, and Jayden Thunder once again. From what info he had gathered and what he has seen since coming to the WCF a few weeks ago, he might have his work cut out for him.
Jayden Thunder was a known entity for him already. He'd worked against him already and knew his capability. While he didn't show him anything special, Michael knew that he had heart, and sometimes that was enough to carry someone through to win. Michael knew that from personal experience, when it all came down to how bad did he want to complete his mission. Sometimes only heart got him through to the finish.
James Fatel, on the other hand, was a psychotic maniac allowed to be let loose upon the WCF like a plague. He set fires and cackled incessantly at the destruction he wreaked upon the company. Yet that madness wouldn't carry him to victory. If anything, it would derail him in the long run. Again, the most psychotic monsters that Michael had faced in his time met their downfall because they took things way too far.
Which brought up one Benjamin Atreyu. The man had talent, no doubt about it. Of all the wrestlers in this match, Atreyu was the one that Michael was going to keep his eye on. He had just came off of an impressive match with a long-time veteran in the WCF with the win. A man who had won every title that the WCF has, both active and defunct. That was something that Michael couldn't ignore. And even worse, the guy wasn't an outright psychopath like James, and had talent to give away, unlike Jayden. Of course, his love of himself would probably be a major downfall if only Michael could exploit that somehow.
So far since New Orleans, Michael had managed to stay one step ahead of everyone. The bounty hunters bent on collecting a one-million dollar hit on him, and the government that wanted to do God knows what to him. His plan for staying off the grid was working, even when they knew where he would be. It was amazing what a wig and some temporary hair dye would do to throw off even the most seasoned of federal agents and hitmen searching for him. Granted, the disguise made him look like a douchebag, but at least he's free for the time being.
Michael needed to start building up his armaments. It would only be a matter of time before the government or a hitman closed in on his position and he would have to defend himself. He mentally noted to himself a friend from his time in Special Forces that opened up a tactical ranch in Mesquite, which was literally a stone throw away from Dallas. He might have to pay that friend a visit. It would probably cost him, though. Who knows if he'll tell the government that he met with him, or that he'll try to collect the hit money himself. He wouldn't put anything past anybody at this time.
Michael had to risk it. He needed guns, ammo, armor, and supplies if he was going to survive. And his old friend had everything that he needed. Who knows how long it'll be before he meets up with the first challenger for the million-dollar hit...
He needed fuel soon, and a shower, and food. Round Rock was just up the road, and he could get all of these at one of the truck stops ahead. He pulled off a few miles later at a Pilot. It had what he was looking for. Shower stalls and a Denny's. God, what he wouldn't give for a shower right now. He pulls up to the showers and grabs his toiletries kit from his bag. He grabs his wig and hair dye but doesn't bother to put it on. Most of the showers these days were automated, so it didn't matter if a machine saw his face.
However, he couldn't help but notice that a car that had been on his tail since San Antonio had also pulled up to the showers. The Mercedes had heavily tinted windows, so he couldn't see inside of the car. But he knew this was trouble. Michael quickly grabbed his Fairbairn-Sykes and tucked it into his toiletries kit, got out of the van and briskly walked into the showers. As he walked in, he looked around for a defensible area, finding that the stalls run straight with no cover. He tucked his Fairbairn into his waistband and stood right in front of the door, waiting for his assailant.
The door opens up, and the first thing that Michael notices is that the man is Asian. The second thing he saw was that he was holding a Beretta. Michael quickly grabbed the man's weapon hand and stripped him of the Beretta as he pulled him into the shower stall. It proved to be easier than he anticipated, the man was much smaller than Michael, and the element of surprise added to the ease of disarming him. Once the gun was dropped, Michael easily tossed the man down the corridor.
The man popped up quickly, with a Tanto in his hands and what looked to be a ball in the other. Michael rushed the man, his Fairbairn in his hands, as the Japanese man tosses the ball at Michael. Michael closed his eyes as he flings his Fairbairn at the man. The ball hit the ground, causing a choking smoke to rise from its contents. The smell of harsh pepper filled his nose and lungs, but the man before him let out a yelp and a groan, as his body fell to the ground. From the haze, Michael could see that the dagger had hit his intended target, right in the middle of his chest. Michael hacked and coughed as he moved to the body to retrieve his knife. As he pulled the knife from the would-be assassin, he ripped open the shirt to reveal several ornate tattoos of Yakuza origin.
So the rumor was now verified. People were after him. It was only sheer luck that this man was sloppy, or overconfident, or underestimated Michael's abilities.
Michael decides to open up one of the showers and tucks away the Yakuza assassin inside of it, taking only the pistol. He then grabs his belongings and departs the showers. It wouldn't make much sense to stick around after this. Maybe he can hit Love's down the road. Get his fuel, his shower, and his food.
This was the first hit attempt on him so far, and he was already sick of it. What was he going to deal with next? A sniper?
He needed to get armed and armored fast. Dallas couldn't be close enough right now...
He never bothered to check into the hotel that he was supposed to stay in, opting to instead buy an old Dodge Ram Van with cash and sleeping in it. When he made his mandatory Twitter updates, which now involve mostly stoking the ire of the over-inflated DOO, Johnny Nitro, he did so with an IP scrambler in a public area. Or was his name Joey Nitro? Who cares, this ass clown will be gone just as fast as he arrived.
And, of course, the standards of everyone involved in the match, to include his partners, were very low. Although Michael had to give Jayden Thunder a nod for getting up from two very devastating maneuvers that he once saw an old wrestler use that looked very devastating. They called it "No Mercy", just like the last move he used last week, they called "No Escape". Michael just called it "effective". Though Michael was certain at this point that Jayden didn't have very many brain cells functioning anymore, and being dropped on his head in such a manner was not as effective to him as it was to most people. Either way, Michael was not surprised that he walked away with the win once again.
However, those who had an interest in him had once again reconvened in the bowels of The Pentagon to discuss how to deal with Michael, since they now had no way of really pinpointing his location since New Orleans, save for the matches he's involved in. The meeting hadn't even started, but the tension was already high when Congressman Jenkins entered the room, saying...
Jenkins: What do we have?
Jacobs: After New Orleans, he went off-grid completely. Whenever he makes posts on the Internet, he's using an IP scrambler so I can't pinpoint his location.
Reardon: Even worse is that he managed to bug out after spotting some agents. Some idiot agent from the field office in New Orleans had some kid try to do his job for him. Even worse than that, there's some chatter in the underground that there's a price on his head. You'll never guess how much.
Jenkins: I take it that its high enough that every whack-job who thinks he knows something would go after him.
Reardon: Yeah. A million dollars is on his head. The word is that after we presumed his death, he galavanted all around Asia ripping off criminal enterprises and crippling illicit business. Most of his damages were to the sex and slave trades, though he took out some of India's drug and weapons trade. Probably used all of that to fund his ventures.
Bell: So he's officially off the reservation. Did he have any associates during all of that time?
Reardon: Still looking into that, but these guys aren't being very forthcoming to us about this info.
Gill: He's already paranoid beyond belief. If he finds out that they put out a million-dollar hit on him, he might tunnel underground and we'll never find him. He needs protection.
Bell: How do you propose that? We can't even find him! How in the fuck do you propose we protect a guy we can't find? Hell, from what I understand, once his match was over, nobody could find him in the building!
Reardon: How did you know that?
Bell: You think you're the only guy here that doesn't have intelligence sources?
Jenkins: Okay, enough! Gill, I need a work-up on all the freelance guys in country right now that works for our government. He's not to be touched under any circumstances. Jacobs, you do the same internationally. Reardon, find out where he's going next, then I want you to canvass every single hotel, airport, bus station, gas station. You name it, and you hit it. Keep it quiet, though. We're not talking nationwide manhunt, here. Once he's spotted, we keep an SRT unit on him at all times, but we do not bring him in unless its under his own volition.
Bell: And once again, I'm left with my dick in my hand...
Jenkins: You're here to provide insight into the Colonel's mind, and nothing more. So unless you have something important to let us in on, I'd suggest you sit there and be happy. You're not the first person I had in mind for this position, and you are replaceable.
Once again, Brigadier General Bell is stewing in his chair at the blatant attack from Congressmen "Jerkins", as he likes to call him behind his back. Even worse, he felt as if he was being drawn as insignificant in the presence of the others. But it isn't everyday that you're in the presence of the Director of the FBI, the NSA, and DOD. He knew his role would be smaller, but to be outright insulted was it for him.
Bell got to his feet and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He'd handle this his way. And with that million dollars up for grabs, this just made doing what he had to do a little sweeter, and he had the perfect person in mind to pull this off.
Meanwhile, Congressman Jenkins says...
Jenkins: I want all of you to keep an eye out for him. He fought too damn hard for this job, only to offer up extreme solutions.
Reardon: Honestly, we had better options for a liaison. From what I understand, Bell and him used to go at it on a constant basis. Rumor is that he led Steele into a trap, but its never been confirmed.
Gill: I've heard the same rumor, but anyone who knew anything sensitive about the mission is dead or presumed dead. We've never been able to follow up on it, especially after he picked up a star.
Jenkins: God, I hate it when they promote assholes because they're incompetent or they fuck up! I hate my job sometimes... Just keep an eye on Bell to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And keep me updated on everything! Meeting adjourned.
________________________
Raj: How is this fuck still alive?
Mikhail: Yes, how is he still alive?
The Dragon just shook his head at the stupidity of the questions, as he says through his translator...
Dragon: None of this was going to happen overnight, gentlemen. With a million dollars on the line, no self-respecting assassin is just going to go all half-cocked against someone like Michael Steele. It would be suicide. I implore each of you to ask your top assassins if they would take on Michael Steele with no plan.
Yoshi: The Dragon has a point. We are in no rush to get men killed, though I can say that we are monitoring the situation as it unfolds.
Mikhail: We have nothing. We've put the word out on the street, but so far, he's not in an area where it's advantageous for us to strike.
Yoshi: And that is because you are afraid to do what is necessary, and leave your comfort zone. But that's okay, because I have my top assassin on him as we speak. That million dollars will be mine before the week is over...
________________________
Little did Michael know that there was someone else hot on his trail...
And even worse than that, it wasn't even a criminal threat, but rather it was another old "friend". An old friend in Bell's pocket.
He had no clue that there was a million dollars on Michael's head, but that didn't stop him from carrying out his mission. Especially when the mission calls for bringing down an old operator that had gone off the reservation once everyone assumed that he was dead. And that broke his heart, considering how much he had respected and admired Michael Steele during his time serving with him. But he also knew how much five years can change a man once his views have been altered.
He knew there was more to the story on how Michael met his end in Pakistan, that perhaps Brigadier General Bell was not being quite forthright with all the information that he has relayed. But the bottom line was that Michael was no longer toeing the company line and had worked against America's interests. And who knows how long it would be before he struck out against the United States outright. What kind of damage would Major Steele do if he was to make an attack on a major American city? Was this wrestling thing just a cover so he could scout out every major American city in order to facilitate an attack later on?
That was a risk that Captain Carl Riggs was not going to take. He had spent the last ten years of his career defending the United States against all enemies, both foreign and domestic, and he'll be damned if he allowed one of his heroes to become that enemy. With something like this, they'll give him the gold leafs for this if he's able to do what is expected of him. Maybe even a medal. It would be a nice bump in pay for bringing down one of the biggest threats that the United States has faced from a domestic terrorist since Timothy McVeigh. Carl just hoped that he was able to bring him down before he caused that kind of damage.
________________________
The next stop for Michael was Dallas, where he was to face Benjamin Atreyu, James Fatel, and Jayden Thunder once again. From what info he had gathered and what he has seen since coming to the WCF a few weeks ago, he might have his work cut out for him.
Jayden Thunder was a known entity for him already. He'd worked against him already and knew his capability. While he didn't show him anything special, Michael knew that he had heart, and sometimes that was enough to carry someone through to win. Michael knew that from personal experience, when it all came down to how bad did he want to complete his mission. Sometimes only heart got him through to the finish.
James Fatel, on the other hand, was a psychotic maniac allowed to be let loose upon the WCF like a plague. He set fires and cackled incessantly at the destruction he wreaked upon the company. Yet that madness wouldn't carry him to victory. If anything, it would derail him in the long run. Again, the most psychotic monsters that Michael had faced in his time met their downfall because they took things way too far.
Which brought up one Benjamin Atreyu. The man had talent, no doubt about it. Of all the wrestlers in this match, Atreyu was the one that Michael was going to keep his eye on. He had just came off of an impressive match with a long-time veteran in the WCF with the win. A man who had won every title that the WCF has, both active and defunct. That was something that Michael couldn't ignore. And even worse, the guy wasn't an outright psychopath like James, and had talent to give away, unlike Jayden. Of course, his love of himself would probably be a major downfall if only Michael could exploit that somehow.
So far since New Orleans, Michael had managed to stay one step ahead of everyone. The bounty hunters bent on collecting a one-million dollar hit on him, and the government that wanted to do God knows what to him. His plan for staying off the grid was working, even when they knew where he would be. It was amazing what a wig and some temporary hair dye would do to throw off even the most seasoned of federal agents and hitmen searching for him. Granted, the disguise made him look like a douchebag, but at least he's free for the time being.
Michael needed to start building up his armaments. It would only be a matter of time before the government or a hitman closed in on his position and he would have to defend himself. He mentally noted to himself a friend from his time in Special Forces that opened up a tactical ranch in Mesquite, which was literally a stone throw away from Dallas. He might have to pay that friend a visit. It would probably cost him, though. Who knows if he'll tell the government that he met with him, or that he'll try to collect the hit money himself. He wouldn't put anything past anybody at this time.
Michael had to risk it. He needed guns, ammo, armor, and supplies if he was going to survive. And his old friend had everything that he needed. Who knows how long it'll be before he meets up with the first challenger for the million-dollar hit...
He needed fuel soon, and a shower, and food. Round Rock was just up the road, and he could get all of these at one of the truck stops ahead. He pulled off a few miles later at a Pilot. It had what he was looking for. Shower stalls and a Denny's. God, what he wouldn't give for a shower right now. He pulls up to the showers and grabs his toiletries kit from his bag. He grabs his wig and hair dye but doesn't bother to put it on. Most of the showers these days were automated, so it didn't matter if a machine saw his face.
However, he couldn't help but notice that a car that had been on his tail since San Antonio had also pulled up to the showers. The Mercedes had heavily tinted windows, so he couldn't see inside of the car. But he knew this was trouble. Michael quickly grabbed his Fairbairn-Sykes and tucked it into his toiletries kit, got out of the van and briskly walked into the showers. As he walked in, he looked around for a defensible area, finding that the stalls run straight with no cover. He tucked his Fairbairn into his waistband and stood right in front of the door, waiting for his assailant.
The door opens up, and the first thing that Michael notices is that the man is Asian. The second thing he saw was that he was holding a Beretta. Michael quickly grabbed the man's weapon hand and stripped him of the Beretta as he pulled him into the shower stall. It proved to be easier than he anticipated, the man was much smaller than Michael, and the element of surprise added to the ease of disarming him. Once the gun was dropped, Michael easily tossed the man down the corridor.
The man popped up quickly, with a Tanto in his hands and what looked to be a ball in the other. Michael rushed the man, his Fairbairn in his hands, as the Japanese man tosses the ball at Michael. Michael closed his eyes as he flings his Fairbairn at the man. The ball hit the ground, causing a choking smoke to rise from its contents. The smell of harsh pepper filled his nose and lungs, but the man before him let out a yelp and a groan, as his body fell to the ground. From the haze, Michael could see that the dagger had hit his intended target, right in the middle of his chest. Michael hacked and coughed as he moved to the body to retrieve his knife. As he pulled the knife from the would-be assassin, he ripped open the shirt to reveal several ornate tattoos of Yakuza origin.
So the rumor was now verified. People were after him. It was only sheer luck that this man was sloppy, or overconfident, or underestimated Michael's abilities.
Michael decides to open up one of the showers and tucks away the Yakuza assassin inside of it, taking only the pistol. He then grabs his belongings and departs the showers. It wouldn't make much sense to stick around after this. Maybe he can hit Love's down the road. Get his fuel, his shower, and his food.
This was the first hit attempt on him so far, and he was already sick of it. What was he going to deal with next? A sniper?
He needed to get armed and armored fast. Dallas couldn't be close enough right now...
