"Like cockroaches," she said, disgust and a hint of anger in her voice.
"Worse," I said, "At least you can squash the roaches."
She gave a half-sigh, half-laugh as she put her phone back in her pocket. Stoya gave me a quick look and shrugged before turning her attention back to the way in front of us as we made our way down the sidewalk.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," she said. "Three on one, after you beat one of them clean? Someone dropped the ball here," she finished, the way she said it implying with certainty that whoever had dropped the ball, it wasn't her.
"It's fine," I said. "I can manage. If anything, it keeps them from ganging up on me in the middle of the match. This might be a blessing in disguise."
She shot me another sideways look. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"
I laughed. "No, but you could have let me have it."
"Delusion won't get us anywhere, I'm afraid. Someone still has it out for you."
"Are you surprised? They're a pack of wolves and they have friends in high places. Just like everyone before them. The only thing for it is to break their spirit by beating them in the ring, whatever odds they try to stack against me. Well, that and track down their allies, but that's easier said than done."
"Is it? You've said it yourself more than once. Bateman, Myles..."
"Maybe. I've had more time to think about it. Maybe the problem is more subtle than that. Not the power, but someone close to it. Someone who has their ear. Who knows? Even if it is Bateman or Myles or even Dave, knowing who they are doesn't even solve the problem. I can't beat them in the ring. I need help there too..." I slowed down for a minute as a thought came to mind. "What if Max helped out on this? He's exactly what I need. Someone who can get into meetings with the powers that be in WZCW, sniff out the trouble, threaten them, bribe them, do whatever it takes to stop them..."
Stoya stopped me with a hand. "I know what you're thinking, but don't bring Max in on this. Trust me."
I thought of the message I'd seen from Max to Stoya a few weeks ago. I had pushed it out of my mind by and large, but the conversation had steered too close to it.
"Is there a problem with Max?"
Stoya looked uncomfortable for a moment and fidgeted her shoulders. It was a deeply uncharacteristic lack of composure for her to display in public.
"He's just not the right man for it, not like you think he is. He's not...subtle enough."
She was lying to my face - or at least, not telling me too much of the truth. I considered pushing the issue, but we turned the corner and saw our destination - a local doctor's office, large by some standards. My contract with the Powers Talent Agency was running out soon, though renewing was really just a formality, but Max and Stoya both had recommended a physical before we did it, just so everyone was operating on the same page.
I pushed thoughts of Max back for the moment as we walked inside. Stoya and I said together in ever so slightly awkward silence as we waited for my name to be called.
She was hiding something from me - and it occurred to me that I hadn't spoken personally to Max in weeks. A few texts, emails, but largely everything had been relayed through Stoya. I didn't want to think about it - of all the things in my life, Max was surprisingly one of the few constants. He was there - support in the back, unseen often but felt. I trusted him to get things done because we were partners in this. If Max was having doubts...
There was too much to think about right now. I pushed it back again and tried to focus on something else until I could talk to Max.
----
"I've reviewed your file. Any changes in the last 18 months or so?" The doctor asked me, as we discussed my physical health.
"I quit drinking and started smoking," I offered. The doctor smiled wryly and shook his head.
"One step forward, two steps back. Look, you're a grown man. I won't lecture you, but obviously I'm going to recommend you quit."
I looked over at my jacket and saw the pack of cigarettes in the pocket. I shrugged.
"If we're being totally honest with each other, I'm not likely to take that advice," I said.
"It's your head - or your lungs, I suppose. Anyway, I've also reviewed the MRIs you had done last month and I'd like to do some more testing. There was something slightly worrying to me that I'd like to follow up on..."
I held up my hand. "I'm going to need you to be more specific than that."
"Of course," he replied. "It's hardly confirmed and probably unlikely, but I saw some irregularities in your spine and neck that could be indicative of the beginning of some more serious issues."
I almost subconsciously rubbed my neck. "Related to...my work, then?"
"Most likely, although it could be genetic in origin - partially, at least. For now, I'd just like to repeat the MRIs and get a better idea of what's going on. We can go ahead and do the tests now and we should have results in the next three days."
I swallowed and nodded, trying not to let any nervousness show. But this was the sort of thing that people in my career hated to hear about - the suggestion of this issue or that issue. It could be nothing, probably was nothing, but it could be...
Anything could be anything. I shook my head and pushed the thoughts back. I almost felt them jumble around with my worries about Max. I very nearly started laughing.
I must have smiled or grimaced or something, since the doctor asked me, "Is everything alright? Is everything clear?"
I shook my head and looked him in the eye. "Fine, yeah. Crystal clear. Let's get this done."
----
"Ready?" she asked, holding up the camera.
"Good enough," I said, leaning back in my chair in our hotel room, several hours after we left the doctor's.
"Aaaaaaand....go." She hit the screen and nodded at me.
The camera ran for a bit as I tried to figure out the right way to start. Thoughts turned over and over in my head as I considered everything. I took a deep breath and started.
"David Whitman."
I let that hang in the air for a minute before going on.
"Mason Westhoff. D.C. The Grand Mystique." I held up fingers as I counted each one of them off.
"To the surprise of no one, it's time to do this again. This isn't the war our fathers fought. In a proper war, you go to a battlefield, you find your enemy, and you either shoot him dead or he kills you. This is a different kind of war we're fighting. For all its appearances, this is a more civilized form of war. I can't kill you, for better or for worse. And while I wouldn't put it past you, I really don't think you're going to kill me either. No, we're not barbarians. Instead, we have to settle our problems like men. So we step into the ring one more time and we do this."
"Now, I don't know what you pulled to get a gauntlet match together. Good job for you for doing so. That's the real problem here, isn't it? Whoever you know, whoever you've paid off, whoever is working for you, they beat me. They beat me because I don't have guys in the back. I have one ally, and she's holding the camera for me. She can't fight everything you've got alone. So it falls to me to get this done like I always have. I beat you at Redemption, Whitman, and I can beat the entire pack of you again. Gauntlet match, handicap match, blindfold match, whatever you and whoever is working for you can dream up, give it to me, because I can take it, and I will keep fighting. My spirit is stronger than yours. My blood is hotter than yours. My mind is calmer than yours. And my fists are stronger than yours."
"At Ascension, bring everything you've got, because you'll need it. Your advantage is three on one. My advantage is mental, physical, and spiritual superiority. For the first time in my life, I know I'm fighting the good fight with a clear mind."
"And nothing any of you can do can break that."
