AS70: Vega vs. James Howard - Non Title Match
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Richard Blonoff
Make America Rassle Again
Deadline has been extended 24 hours via a request from Howard.
The corridors of the arena felt narrow, suffocating; claustrophobic. Id experienced the feeling before but Id never really put any thought into it. I had won the Eurasian Championship, from Chris KO no less and yet I felt like Mikey was even further from me now than he ever was. That damn mask and the way I had to win will stay with me for a long time. I didnt want to take out Mikey but I had to. I had to win, at any cost. The next several days passed in a blur, I had some time off for All-Stars so I took advantage and went to see my son and Dinah.
There were some difficult conversations that needed to be had. I was going to stay in Mikeys apartment for a while. Dinah needed space to work through some things and so did I. I looked back on our home, it seemed unlikely I would be moving back in any time soon.
The day after All-Stars I got a phone call from an old friend, Alex.
Hello James! he said as jovially as he could.
Hi Alex, whats up?
There is nothing up. I am calling to congratulate you and ask you to drop in before you go to Europe.
Is this about Vega?
Vega? Who is this Vega?
Ill see you tomorrow. Alex was always a terrible liar. He wanted to talk about Vega.
I drove overnight to Vegas and arrived early the next morning. I was greeted by a mountain of a man named Sergei. Wed met before. I chuckled as he asked me about the fat one he told me he admired his attitude. I quietly agreed before we made it to Alexs penthouse. He was flanked on either side by men that made Sergei look like a Ken doll. He motioned to a seat in front of his hand crafted walnut desk, it sat like a blot on the sun in the crisp morning light behind him. I squinted as I sat to make out the details on Alexs face. We hadnt met in over a year and he looked far worse for it.
You have a new look my friend. He said as he casually lit the cigarette in his hand. I like it.
He offered me a smoke. I obliged. Thanks, you gotta keep up with your look in wrestling man, not like MMA.
Alex smiled weakly. About your next opponent.
I knew this was coming Alex. Why do I need to know about Vega?
He took a long drag from his cigarette as the blinds closed and the goons turned on the lamps, giving them a thorough frisk as they did so. Alex also dropped the broken English act he maintains for the benefit of others. Hes a former CIA agent, of sorts.
Of sorts?
Well, he was a hit-man. Not any more though.
I laughed. He actually managed to retire?
Well, he managed to stop working for them. My guy says he liked it you know.
What? Killing?
Alex hummed in agreement. He stopped for a woman, of all things. Want to see the psychology report?" He waved a folio in front of my face as he smirked. "We have it you know. We were considering bringing him aboard when you went into wrestling.
No thanks. Youve told me all I need to know. I stood up to leave.
"I say we wanted to talk to him. He turned us down. Teach him a lesson."
I waved back at him as I walked towards the exit. The sound of the lamps clicking off and the blinds being raised accompanied my departure. I made my way to the airport, the travel to Stockholm was gruelling. McCarran to Heathrow, Heathrow to Schipol, Schipol to Arlanda. Stockholm was a beautiful city. I couldnt help but think how much Dinah would have loved to see it with me. The hotel room was spacious, empty.
Eventually I found my way into a large suite in the Grandhotel Schloss Bensberg in Cologne. Id managed to keep myself busy with public appearances and avoid thinking too much about the bigger picture, my fiancée and my son that Im estranged from and my tag partner who I had to screw to win the title that sits in my bag.
Then there was Vega. A man on the run, who I have been told to teach a lesson to. I picked up the phone.
Hi Alex, that report you offered me. Could you email it?
He couldnt email it but I received it within a couple of days from a courier. Days and nights were spent reading, analysing it. He was dangerous, deadly, and maniacal. I could take him, but I didnt need to. I just needed him to stay where he was.
I picked up the phone and dialled for the police.
There is a man named Vega on the Interpol wanted list. Hell be at the Laxness Arena for the WZCW tapings for Ascension. Yeah, hell be in the middle of the ring.
There were some difficult conversations that needed to be had. I was going to stay in Mikeys apartment for a while. Dinah needed space to work through some things and so did I. I looked back on our home, it seemed unlikely I would be moving back in any time soon.
The day after All-Stars I got a phone call from an old friend, Alex.
Hello James! he said as jovially as he could.
Hi Alex, whats up?
There is nothing up. I am calling to congratulate you and ask you to drop in before you go to Europe.
Is this about Vega?
Vega? Who is this Vega?
Ill see you tomorrow. Alex was always a terrible liar. He wanted to talk about Vega.
I drove overnight to Vegas and arrived early the next morning. I was greeted by a mountain of a man named Sergei. Wed met before. I chuckled as he asked me about the fat one he told me he admired his attitude. I quietly agreed before we made it to Alexs penthouse. He was flanked on either side by men that made Sergei look like a Ken doll. He motioned to a seat in front of his hand crafted walnut desk, it sat like a blot on the sun in the crisp morning light behind him. I squinted as I sat to make out the details on Alexs face. We hadnt met in over a year and he looked far worse for it.
You have a new look my friend. He said as he casually lit the cigarette in his hand. I like it.
He offered me a smoke. I obliged. Thanks, you gotta keep up with your look in wrestling man, not like MMA.
Alex smiled weakly. About your next opponent.
I knew this was coming Alex. Why do I need to know about Vega?
He took a long drag from his cigarette as the blinds closed and the goons turned on the lamps, giving them a thorough frisk as they did so. Alex also dropped the broken English act he maintains for the benefit of others. Hes a former CIA agent, of sorts.
Of sorts?
Well, he was a hit-man. Not any more though.
I laughed. He actually managed to retire?
Well, he managed to stop working for them. My guy says he liked it you know.
What? Killing?
Alex hummed in agreement. He stopped for a woman, of all things. Want to see the psychology report?" He waved a folio in front of my face as he smirked. "We have it you know. We were considering bringing him aboard when you went into wrestling.
No thanks. Youve told me all I need to know. I stood up to leave.
"I say we wanted to talk to him. He turned us down. Teach him a lesson."
I waved back at him as I walked towards the exit. The sound of the lamps clicking off and the blinds being raised accompanied my departure. I made my way to the airport, the travel to Stockholm was gruelling. McCarran to Heathrow, Heathrow to Schipol, Schipol to Arlanda. Stockholm was a beautiful city. I couldnt help but think how much Dinah would have loved to see it with me. The hotel room was spacious, empty.
Eventually I found my way into a large suite in the Grandhotel Schloss Bensberg in Cologne. Id managed to keep myself busy with public appearances and avoid thinking too much about the bigger picture, my fiancée and my son that Im estranged from and my tag partner who I had to screw to win the title that sits in my bag.
Then there was Vega. A man on the run, who I have been told to teach a lesson to. I picked up the phone.
Hi Alex, that report you offered me. Could you email it?
He couldnt email it but I received it within a couple of days from a courier. Days and nights were spent reading, analysing it. He was dangerous, deadly, and maniacal. I could take him, but I didnt need to. I just needed him to stay where he was.
I picked up the phone and dialled for the police.
There is a man named Vega on the Interpol wanted list. Hell be at the Laxness Arena for the WZCW tapings for Ascension. Yeah, hell be in the middle of the ring.
Infinity
Starving (Martial) Artist
-Open-
--------------------------------
Penthouse Suite, Caesar's Palace
Las Vegas, Nevada
February 21st, 2012
--------------------------------
We find ourselves in a lavish penthouse living room, where the one piece of furniture that stands out most is an over sized desk. A man sits on the chair looking out the floor to ceiling windows, surveying the Vegas lights illuminating the strip far below. He places a cigarette between his lips, and without even giving an order, a large man dressed in a black suit leans over and lights it for him. In fact, there are about a dozen equally large men, six on each side, standing there next to this seated man who is now enjoying his cigarette.
Just then, from across the large room, the double doors gently open. In walks another large man, dressed similarly to the dozen already in the room, but donning a look of superiority on his face that the others don't have, except for the man sitting behind the desk. He speaks up, addressing the seated smoker.
He's here, boss.
Smoke floats up from the cigarette as he cracks a half smile while motioning towards the door with his free hand.
Well, let him in Sergei.
The man identified as Sergei simply nods as he walks back to the doors and opens them up. There stands Vega, dressed in black boots, black denim jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and black sunglasses. He cracks half a smile and confidently walks into the large room without further acknowledging Sergei. As if offended, Sergei puts his hand out, halting Vega in his tracks. Vega seems to already know what is coming next, and simply raises his arms slightly up into the air. Sergei begins patting him down, first his chest and shoulders, then down to his hips, thighs, legs, and even his crotch. Vega smiles as he looks towards the man behind his desk.
He's thorough.
Sergei nods to his boss and Vega continues towards the desk.
Just a formality. You understand, no?
The man's Russian accent is distinct, but not overbearing. He motions with his hand to the lone chair sitting across from him, in front of the desk, inviting Vega to take a seat.
In this world we choose to live in we can never be too careful.
With people like us, it's all about the angles. It's when we stop seeing the angles... that's when you're in trouble.
I could not agree more, comrade. You know what they say about great minds. You and me? We are very much alike. This is why I've asked for you to meet with me. Because you, my friend... you see the angles, just like I do.
Vega squints while smirking, not entirely sure of the situation just yet.
Mhmm... just like you, huh?
He nods in response as he enjoys another puff on his cigarette.
Where are my manners. My name is- well, you can call me Alex. Care for a smoke?
Alex offers Vega a cigarette, but it is met with a raised hand with the palm facing out.
No, thank you.
Not a man of vices?
A subdued laugh escapes Vega.
I'm a man of many vices.
Alex smiles.
Good.
Vega looks around, finally acknowledging the six men to Alex's left, the six to his right, and Sergei... who stands ominously close to Vega off to the side.
So tell me, Alex. If you and I see the same angles I do, why am I here?
It's quite simple, Vega. Just because you and I may have the same perspectives, does not mean I can get my hands as dirty as yours, you see.
Vega facetiously holds up his hands to inspect them.
They look pretty clean to me.
Alex laughs.
Somehow, you've managed to keep them clean for all these years. But you and I both know that clean is perhaps the furthest adjective one would use to describe you. Wouldn't you agree?
Well where's the fun in staying clean? The world's a dirty place. It ain't my job to clean it up. But I bet any of these 13 men standing around us wouldn't mind getting a little dirty, either.
Perhaps. But as much as I may trust them with my own life, they cannot get to the places you can. They cannot reach the people you can. Nor are they capable of the things that you are. These men... don't get me wrong, are very capable men. But they are no Vega.
And you think stroking my ego will get you what you want?
No. I think this will.
As if waiting for his cue, one of the dozen black suited men walks over to the desk with a steel colored briefcase and places it on the table. He flips to latches and opens up the briefcase, revealing stacks of hundred dollar bills so crisp you'd think they were freshly printed moments ago. Vega seems unfazed by the money.
And what is it you want me to do for that?
For now? Nothing. It's yours. But, having a man like you up my sleeve would prove to do wonders for business. A man like you at my disposal... well, it makes a man like me even more effective. It's quite simple Vega. Employing you is good for business.
I see.
So... we are in business, yes?
With a cocky look in his eyes, Vega relishes in his simple response to Alex.
No, comrade. We're not.
Alex furrows his eyebrows while taking a final puff of his cigarette. He crushes the finished cigarette into his ash tray before responding.
You're tone, Vega... I'm not sure if I'm liking it anymore.
Well, Alex... I don't really give a damn what you think about my tone.
Alex inhales deeply, trying to keep his composure. The men at his left and right visibly stand up a little straighter, some even going as far as puffing their chests out as the almost snarl at Vega.
It seems we are not as alike as I thought. That is a shame.
You've got that right.
Alex shakes his head disapprovingly.
Your foolishness disappoints me, Vega.
Vega smiles devilishly.
And your ignorance pleases me, Alex.
One of the men next to Alex begins reaching inside his jacket for something.
I'd tell your men to stand down if I were you.
Now you're telling me what to do?
Of course not. Just a bit of advice.
And why would I take advice from you?
Because I'm smarter than you. Because it's you who are the fool, Alex. Not me.
With a smile on his face, Alex motions with his hand towards Vega. Immediately, all 13 men reach inside there suit jackets and pull out handguns. 13 barrels aimed directly for Vega's head, meanwhile he doesn't move an inch. He just stares into Alex's confident eyes with a smirk on his face.
Tell me, Vega... what's stopping me from giving the simple command that would end your miserable existence?
The angles, Alex... the angles.
Alex doesn't reply. Instead he slowly loses the confident look on his face as he awaits for Vega to elaborate.
See, before... I meant it metaphorically. This dirty, dirty world we live in? It's all about angles. You have to think through ever angle, see from every angle, and attack from every angle. Which brings us to now. See, for tonight... the most important angle is not a metaphorical one. Oh no... the most important angle of the night is quite literal.
Alex's eyebrows furrow in further confusion as Vega looks towards the floor to ceiling window to his left, Alex's right.
Like the angle that the roof of the Cosmopolitan hotel across the street has from this penthouse in Caesar's Palace. A perfect line of sight.
Vega slowly raises his left hand slightly, and on command, a red dot appears on Alex's chest. He doesn't realize it right away, but everyone else in the room does. Sergei looks towards Alex, and nervously speaks up.
Boss...
He motions towards his chest. Alex looks down, finally seeing what everybody else sees. Slowly, the red dot moves up his chest, passed his neck and face, and comes to a stop in the center of Alex's forehead. Alex is almost cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of where the dot has moved.
You can give your men one of two orders, Alex... but just realize, whatever you tell them to do, will happen to you. Have me killed... and a .50 caliber sniper bullet will pierce through your skull before a drop of my blood even hits the floor. Have your men lower their weapons... and you live. The choice is yours, Alex.
Frustrated, Alex simply nods to Sergei, who nods to the rest of the men as he lowers his weapon. The dozen other men follow suit and lower their guns as well.
Wise choice, Alex. Wise choice.
Vega rises from his seat and walks over to the desk. He closes the briefcase shut, and grabs it before turning his back to Alex and walking towards the double doors he entered through.
Angles, Alex. It's always all about the angles.
You will pay for this Vega. I promise you.
Vega turns back around with a sinister smile on his face.
I'm looking forward to it.
A pleasure doing business with you, Alex.
He turns back around and exits the room, shutting the double doors behind him. Alex sits there, motionless, afraid to make a move with the laser beam aimed directly at his forehead.
-Close-
--------------------------------
Penthouse Suite, Caesar's Palace
Las Vegas, Nevada
February 21st, 2012
--------------------------------
We find ourselves in a lavish penthouse living room, where the one piece of furniture that stands out most is an over sized desk. A man sits on the chair looking out the floor to ceiling windows, surveying the Vegas lights illuminating the strip far below. He places a cigarette between his lips, and without even giving an order, a large man dressed in a black suit leans over and lights it for him. In fact, there are about a dozen equally large men, six on each side, standing there next to this seated man who is now enjoying his cigarette.
Just then, from across the large room, the double doors gently open. In walks another large man, dressed similarly to the dozen already in the room, but donning a look of superiority on his face that the others don't have, except for the man sitting behind the desk. He speaks up, addressing the seated smoker.
He's here, boss.
Smoke floats up from the cigarette as he cracks a half smile while motioning towards the door with his free hand.
Well, let him in Sergei.
The man identified as Sergei simply nods as he walks back to the doors and opens them up. There stands Vega, dressed in black boots, black denim jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and black sunglasses. He cracks half a smile and confidently walks into the large room without further acknowledging Sergei. As if offended, Sergei puts his hand out, halting Vega in his tracks. Vega seems to already know what is coming next, and simply raises his arms slightly up into the air. Sergei begins patting him down, first his chest and shoulders, then down to his hips, thighs, legs, and even his crotch. Vega smiles as he looks towards the man behind his desk.
He's thorough.
Sergei nods to his boss and Vega continues towards the desk.
Just a formality. You understand, no?
The man's Russian accent is distinct, but not overbearing. He motions with his hand to the lone chair sitting across from him, in front of the desk, inviting Vega to take a seat.
In this world we choose to live in we can never be too careful.
With people like us, it's all about the angles. It's when we stop seeing the angles... that's when you're in trouble.
I could not agree more, comrade. You know what they say about great minds. You and me? We are very much alike. This is why I've asked for you to meet with me. Because you, my friend... you see the angles, just like I do.
Vega squints while smirking, not entirely sure of the situation just yet.
Mhmm... just like you, huh?
He nods in response as he enjoys another puff on his cigarette.
Where are my manners. My name is- well, you can call me Alex. Care for a smoke?
Alex offers Vega a cigarette, but it is met with a raised hand with the palm facing out.
No, thank you.
Not a man of vices?
A subdued laugh escapes Vega.
I'm a man of many vices.
Alex smiles.
Good.
Vega looks around, finally acknowledging the six men to Alex's left, the six to his right, and Sergei... who stands ominously close to Vega off to the side.
So tell me, Alex. If you and I see the same angles I do, why am I here?
It's quite simple, Vega. Just because you and I may have the same perspectives, does not mean I can get my hands as dirty as yours, you see.
Vega facetiously holds up his hands to inspect them.
They look pretty clean to me.
Alex laughs.
Somehow, you've managed to keep them clean for all these years. But you and I both know that clean is perhaps the furthest adjective one would use to describe you. Wouldn't you agree?
Well where's the fun in staying clean? The world's a dirty place. It ain't my job to clean it up. But I bet any of these 13 men standing around us wouldn't mind getting a little dirty, either.
Perhaps. But as much as I may trust them with my own life, they cannot get to the places you can. They cannot reach the people you can. Nor are they capable of the things that you are. These men... don't get me wrong, are very capable men. But they are no Vega.
And you think stroking my ego will get you what you want?
No. I think this will.
As if waiting for his cue, one of the dozen black suited men walks over to the desk with a steel colored briefcase and places it on the table. He flips to latches and opens up the briefcase, revealing stacks of hundred dollar bills so crisp you'd think they were freshly printed moments ago. Vega seems unfazed by the money.
And what is it you want me to do for that?
For now? Nothing. It's yours. But, having a man like you up my sleeve would prove to do wonders for business. A man like you at my disposal... well, it makes a man like me even more effective. It's quite simple Vega. Employing you is good for business.
I see.
So... we are in business, yes?
With a cocky look in his eyes, Vega relishes in his simple response to Alex.
No, comrade. We're not.
Alex furrows his eyebrows while taking a final puff of his cigarette. He crushes the finished cigarette into his ash tray before responding.
You're tone, Vega... I'm not sure if I'm liking it anymore.
Well, Alex... I don't really give a damn what you think about my tone.
Alex inhales deeply, trying to keep his composure. The men at his left and right visibly stand up a little straighter, some even going as far as puffing their chests out as the almost snarl at Vega.
It seems we are not as alike as I thought. That is a shame.
You've got that right.
Alex shakes his head disapprovingly.
Your foolishness disappoints me, Vega.
Vega smiles devilishly.
And your ignorance pleases me, Alex.
One of the men next to Alex begins reaching inside his jacket for something.
I'd tell your men to stand down if I were you.
Now you're telling me what to do?
Of course not. Just a bit of advice.
And why would I take advice from you?
Because I'm smarter than you. Because it's you who are the fool, Alex. Not me.
With a smile on his face, Alex motions with his hand towards Vega. Immediately, all 13 men reach inside there suit jackets and pull out handguns. 13 barrels aimed directly for Vega's head, meanwhile he doesn't move an inch. He just stares into Alex's confident eyes with a smirk on his face.
Tell me, Vega... what's stopping me from giving the simple command that would end your miserable existence?
The angles, Alex... the angles.
Alex doesn't reply. Instead he slowly loses the confident look on his face as he awaits for Vega to elaborate.
See, before... I meant it metaphorically. This dirty, dirty world we live in? It's all about angles. You have to think through ever angle, see from every angle, and attack from every angle. Which brings us to now. See, for tonight... the most important angle is not a metaphorical one. Oh no... the most important angle of the night is quite literal.
Alex's eyebrows furrow in further confusion as Vega looks towards the floor to ceiling window to his left, Alex's right.
Like the angle that the roof of the Cosmopolitan hotel across the street has from this penthouse in Caesar's Palace. A perfect line of sight.
Vega slowly raises his left hand slightly, and on command, a red dot appears on Alex's chest. He doesn't realize it right away, but everyone else in the room does. Sergei looks towards Alex, and nervously speaks up.
Boss...
He motions towards his chest. Alex looks down, finally seeing what everybody else sees. Slowly, the red dot moves up his chest, passed his neck and face, and comes to a stop in the center of Alex's forehead. Alex is almost cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of where the dot has moved.
You can give your men one of two orders, Alex... but just realize, whatever you tell them to do, will happen to you. Have me killed... and a .50 caliber sniper bullet will pierce through your skull before a drop of my blood even hits the floor. Have your men lower their weapons... and you live. The choice is yours, Alex.
Frustrated, Alex simply nods to Sergei, who nods to the rest of the men as he lowers his weapon. The dozen other men follow suit and lower their guns as well.
Wise choice, Alex. Wise choice.
Vega rises from his seat and walks over to the desk. He closes the briefcase shut, and grabs it before turning his back to Alex and walking towards the double doors he entered through.
Angles, Alex. It's always all about the angles.
You will pay for this Vega. I promise you.
Vega turns back around with a sinister smile on his face.
I'm looking forward to it.
A pleasure doing business with you, Alex.
He turns back around and exits the room, shutting the double doors behind him. Alex sits there, motionless, afraid to make a move with the laser beam aimed directly at his forehead.
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