When Nate arrives at work the following day, he makes a beeline for the office. His four other team members already prepare for the day. Zion fiddles with his left knee joint in a manner that a professional would definitely advise against. Reese dozes off of Adya’s shoulder, taking every moment she can to spend time with her. She perks up when she hears Nate’s footsteps.
“Whatever your task is, put it aside,” he says. “I have a new one for you.” He opens up a webpage on the computer and mirrors it to the larger monitor against the wall. Sasha Colburn, the marksman of the team, hangs her rifle up on the wall and scrutinizes the image.
“It’s a guy.”
Reese rolls her eyes and settles her head back on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “We can see that, Colby.”
“This is Amiran Marcello. Tournament fighter, LA native. He was kidnapped yesterday and his whereabouts are unknown. He was last seen at the facility he trains at. I need one of you to get access to their security feed.” Zion offers up himself and gets to work. “This is probably going one of three ways: either someone is holding him for ransom, this won’t be an isolated incident, or it’s an act of sabotage. We need to make sure it doesn’t get that far.”
“This is gonna be one hell of a mission to clear with General Morales,” Colby says.
Leon chimes in from behind his brother. “Not sure if you’ll want to. There’s no telling who took Amiran. But if my gut is right-- and it usually is-- this is an operation that might fall into some grey areas. It might be none of the things you listed.”
“Someone’s awful sure of himself, isn’t he?”
Reese ponders the information at hand. “We owe it to this kid to try and rescue him. I don’t think I can just sit by, knowing he’s in danger, just because it’s not the op we’ve been assigned to.”
“What about the rest of your trainees?” Adya asks. Nate raises his eyebrows and a pleading smile spreads across his face. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”
“Please?”
“I did not sign up to be your substitute teacher!”
“Adya, I’m out of options. These kids are easy! You and Colby have nothing to worry about.”
Reese eyes Leon. “Easy, huh?”
Leon smiles smugly. “You’re a piece of work yourself.”
“At least I’m not a tournament fighter, making a mockery of the actual danger that agents put themselves in every day. I don’t glorify violence.”
“Yet, you specialize in CQC, and that pretty staff of yours sure seems to be glorifying something.”
Reese stands up and moves a few steps closer. “With an arm like that, you’re one to talk.”
Nate is unfazed by the argument. He simply opens the cabinet of his belongings and pulls out two batons. When he presses a button, they extend and emit a spark of electricity. Nate jabs the baton into his brother’s side, shocking him lightly. “If you’re going to be part of this operation, you’d better watch your mouth,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m not about to babysit you.”
Leon keeps his sharp gaze on Reese. The smug smile on her face fades quickly when Nate walks over and jabs her the same way.
“Ow! Nate!”
“And you need to stop indulging him. Lose the battle, win the war.”
Reese sits back down next to Adya. “‘The battle’ is about 5’9 and has an ego that stretches into the stratosphere,” she mumbles.
“5’10,” Leon corrects her. “If any of you are doubtful about my help… I get that a lot. But what do I have to gain from lying to you? Amiran beat me out of the championship spot, but he’s still a person and he’s a fair fighter. I give you full permission to kick me out if you get sick of me. But tournament fighting runs deeper than you might think. I can be an asset to you, but only if you let me.”
“We’ve reserved that right from the beginning,” Nate says. Zion speaks up, pointing to his computer. He’s got a hit on a suspect outside Amiran’s training facility. The security feed shows a middle-aged man exiting his vehicle at about 11:30 AM.
“White, probably about 6 foot, greying hair, and--” he points to the gentleman’s forearm-- “that tattoo.”
“Mark of Champions,” Leon says. “Winners of underground fighting rings usually get that tattoo after a championship.” Everyone eyes Leon suspiciously. His decision not to spell out why he has this knowledge before he made his statement exhausts everyone more than they already are. He raises his arms in a ‘let-me-explain’ gesture. “A lot of these fighters come clean and start competing legally. I’ve met a few at tournaments. These rings are hard to track; they move frequently and cover their scent, so looking for it is probably a dead end.”
“So Amiran was taken by an illegal fight club that we can’t track,” Reese says. “Great. How do we bring the enemy to us, then?”
Nate hesitates the first time he tries to speak. He can’t believe the idea he’s about to propose. “What if... we had something that was of equal value? Something we could act like we’re going to trade?”
All the eyes in the room fall on Leon. He smiles, eager for whatever’s coming. If trouble is what tore him and his brother apart, it might as well be what brings them together again.
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