Agents Universe

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: The winter sun slanted in through the broken window to illuminate the dust-coated, grimy interior of the repair shop. It hadn’t been broken a few minutes ago, but a couple of bullets had changed that. Beneath the window, next to a greasy workbench, a man in jeans, black combat boots, and a thick grey sweater huddled, his pistol clenched tightly in his grip.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Outside the window, three men, dressed in black paramilitary gear, heavy combat boots, thick bullet proof vests, were scattered about the car back, taking cover behind an old Ford Chevy truck in the middle, a dumpster on the right, and a mound of discarded tires on the left. The men were Syndicate hitmen. Their mission, as it had been explained to them by Derek Steel himself, was to capture or kill the traitor. When the three hitmen had caught up with him, the traitor, an agent for the Syndicate, had barricaded himself into the closest building he could find, this auto repair shop on the outskirts of Toronto. Desperately now, the agent brought out his phone with his left hand as more shots riddled the side of the building. With his right hand, he blindly aimed the pistol out the window and fired several more shots to keep the hitmen at bay.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Dialing the number, he shouted into the phone, “Please! I need help. My name is Richard Peterson, and I need protection.” As more shots ring out, he screams into the phone, “Yes, you heard me right, Richard Peterson. Yes, the same Peterson with the Syndicate… Listen please, I don’t have a lot of time put me through to the director… okay.. okay… Director,just hear me out… I’m willing to sell out the Syndicate in exchange for protection. Why?” “Because Steel is trying to have me killed, that’s why. I fucked up, yeah that’s right, that mission your boys foiled, that was me, and now my head is on the chopping block. I’m surrounded by three of his hired killers right now, I can’t hold them off for much longer.” More bullets smash through the window, and there is a loud voice outside.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: “Peterson, we know you are in there. You have five minutes to give yourself up, or we are going to set this whole fucking place on fire with you inside. Don’t make us do that. Our bonus depends on taking you in alive. If you make us roast you, that is gonna put me and the boys in a seriously foul mood. I swear, we’d take out our bad mood on your whole fucking family.”

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Richard screams in the phone, “Did you hear those fuckers? Please!! I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything, just please… You will? Fuck. Okay, I can hold out. Okay.” Richard hangs up, and cracks a broad grin, looking relieved.

=======================

10:25 Director_Steve_Powers: I hung up the phone. FUCK. This had to be some kind of setup. But if it was, they sure as hell went to some serious effort to arrange it. It sounded legit. It could be legit. They had intercepted Petersen and his team when they tried to break into that weapons lab near Montreal. Steel would be seriously pissed about that. Okay. I’ve got to assume that this is true. And I have to act fast. Who do we have near?

10:25 Director_Steve_Powers: I pull out my display tab, and check out the flashing green dots scattered throughout the greater Toronto area. Then I selected the green dot nearest the location Richard was holed up in. I checked it out. Agent Jack Young, Trent’s son… only been on the job for a week. But he was only five minutes away. The nearest other agent was 30 minutes at least. FUCK. Sending in a goddamn rookie was a disaster waiting to happen. But he was Trent’s boy. A finer General I’ve never known. That had to count for something. And his mother was on the board. He had the training. Now it was time to give him some experience. I checked the police dispatch, and there was a two man patrol squad car also five minutes away. Time for Jack to earn his pay. I divert the squad car, and call up Jack. “Agent Young, we have a situation that I need you to take care of on the double.” I explain the situation to him, and let him know that he will be in command of the two patrol officers I diverted to help him. I finished with, “You can do this Agent. You have the training. Your father would be proud, I know he would.”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The cool air of the mortuary brushes over my face and makes my fingers feel numb. The fluorescent lights bathe me in pure white and the smell of chemicals fills my senses. I like being here. It's peaceful, far from the bustling and violent city a few feet above my head.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "This is our victim, a Mr. George Dowers. 63-years-old, death by asphyxiation after a blunt force trauma to his head" says Margo, the forensic pathologist guiding me through my first investigation.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Mr. Dowers was a retired military man found dead in the woods behind his home a few short hours ago. I was called out to learn more about his death as his superiors thought it could have Syndicate implications. I eye the body from head-to-toe, carefully plotting my words and actions before carrying them out. I've always done this and describe myself as 'calculated'. Every sentence and action is pre-planned to save embarrassment and humiliation. I've done it since I was child, growing up in a household with two brothers that loved to bully me more than they actually loved.. well, me. I stroke my beard and cheek gently as I gaze upon George's corpse; white, cold and stiff.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Any fingerprints found on the body?" I ask, my ocean-blue eyes reflecting hope and tranquillity back at Margo, who doesn't see these qualities often in federal agents. Some call it weakness, I call it warmth and humanity,

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "No, nothing. They used a belt or chord around the neck and may have been wearing gloves whilst moving him. This was planned.." mutters the doctor, gesturing at the body as she speaks. "Do you thin--"

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My cell phone interrupts the doctor, as well as my train of thought. I answer it in a hurry. "Doctor Powers!" I beam, desperate to make a good impression. I listen as the director instructs me on my new mission. The words come at me in a blur, like a car passing me on a freeway. I take it all in but there's a lump in my throat.. this is real. I hang up from the Director and almost jump for joy. My first chance to prove myself as a Young, like my brothers and father before me.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I apologise to the doctor and promise to rearrange, then make haste to my car. The drive feels like it's taking an eternity, as most car journey's do when you're in a rush. "He's dead, and you've failed." say the demons on my shoulder. "The Syndicate agents killed Peterson and are gone. You're pathetic"

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: slap my hand onto the steering wheel to bash the thoughts away, I need to stay focused. I quickly put on my bulletproof vest as I drive. I turn a corner and see the flashing lights of the patrol car, my backup. I pull up alongside them to the sound of gunshots and dive next to them, taking cover behind their car currently being hailed by bullets.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Agent Young, CSIS. You guys alright?" I ask as I rest against the cool metal of the car's body.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "King and Meyers," one of the cops introduces themselves. "Kid, they're not letting up, they've got us pinned.."

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: There it is. Kid. The word that seems to describe me. These guys clearly weren't hoping for someone like me to show up. "Officers, I need to get into that building. Can you draw their fire?" I eye the distance to the door.. it's doable. "Just shoot at them with all you've got for like 6 seconds, keep their heads down and for God's sake don't get shot.."

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You fucking crazy, boy!?" King shouts, but after some deliberation he nods at Meyers and the two of them unleash hell on the Syndicate. They rapid fire their handguns in their direction and I jump out, charging at full speed to the door and into safety. I pat myself over and.. nothing. I'm in, and I'm unhit. I glance back at King and Meyers, who have got themselves back into cover. They're okay for a little bit, but Peterson will be an extra gun for our side.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Peterson!" I yell as I walk through the repair shop, gun pointed out. I don't trust him 100% and would rather meet him with my gun in his face. "I'm Agent Young, CSIS. Show yourself to me, UNARMED" I say commandingly, ensuring my back is always to the wall.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Peterson hears the wail of a siren outside, and then gunfire. He shifts his position over next to the heavy door leading into the workshop. Then, suddenly there is a savage volley of heavy gunfire, interspersed with the sound of running feet. Peterson can see through the small window next to the door. He sees a young, bearded, handsome man, barely more than a kid really, running through the car park, the two cops laying down a barrage of gunfire. He mutters to himself, “Stupid kid, gonna get himself killed, and then I’ll get the blame.” He rapidly unbolts the heavy locked door, just in time as the CSIS agent slams the door open.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Plastered next to the wall, the rookie agent is scanning the room looking for Peterson. Peterson rolls his eyes and speaks up, “I’m right here Agent!” He drops his gun deliberately, and holds his hands up. If he’d wanted to, he could have put a bullet in the young idiot’s head before the Agent knew he was there. Don’t they teach situational awareness these days. Fuck me. “Thanks Agent, you saved my life, but I think those two cops you brought along are gonna be in the shit if we don’t help them out. They can’t handle those three by themselves. Those fuckers, they got frag grenades. The only reason they didn’t use them already is because I’m worth more to them alive then…”

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: BOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM A huge explosion tore through the repair garage, and the shockwave caused the wall to rattle. “...dead.. But those cops you brought along aren’t.”

11:21 Mike_Stevens: FUCK… The cops have joined the fun. SHIT SHIT SHIT. I’m thinking of that bonus man, that fucking bonus. Then suddenly, a young, shit-for-brains CSIS agent runs across the car park towards the repair shop, just as those bastard cops started unloading everything they had at us to pin us down.. I duck down, desperately wanting to drop that idiot, but couldn’t risk it with the heavy fire. Didn’t he fucking realize the door to the repair shop was locked tight as banker’s ass? But he barged right in. FUCKING Peterson. All right, no more Mr. Nice Guy. I shout into my radio, “Dave, you are closest, Frag those fuckers! We gotta move!”

11:21 Dave_Smith: Fuck fuck… bullets pinging through the rubber all over the fucking place, then the order comes through. Bout fucking time. I grab the grenade off my tactical belt, pull the pin, and toss it towards the copper’s squad car.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I check carefully around the room until suddenly, Peterson's booming voice almost startles me. I turn and point the gun at him, a cold look in my eye. The explosion breaks my focus and I fall against the wall, resting my hand against it whilst still aiming the gun at you, but my attention is on King and Meyers. "Fuck!!" I look out at them, praying I haven't gotten two innocent coppers killed.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: During the delay between pulling the pin and the grenade exploding, the cops had managed to somewhat clear the area, although Meyers was screaming. "ARRRGGHHH FUCKK!!" his voice echoes as King quickly drags him to safety. The smoke from the explosion acted as their cover, protecting them from more gunfire. My heart sinks into my stomach.. Meyers got hurt because of me.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuck!!" I yell again, frustrated with myself. I turn my attention back to Peterson. "Look, I need you and I need you now. Together we're gonna finish off these bastards. I'll stay behind you but I swear to God, you so much as turn around or point that weapon at ANYBODY besides your little Syndicate piece-of-shit friends then I'll blow your fucking head off. Now MOVE!"

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I take cover at the back of the room as Peterson takes cover a little closer to the new hole ripped into the repair shop wall. My attention is split between the Syndicate bottom feeders and Peterson, preparing to shoot him down if necessary. The Syndicate hitmen take cover just on the other side of the wall and a shootout commences, bullets flying and voices shouting. I shoot one guy in the hand, causing him to drop his weapon and scream out.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: The grenade detonates between the cop’s squad car and the wall of the repair shop, blowing a hole in the wall. He looks through the fresh entrance and sees one cop dragging another to safety, then Jack is yelling in his face. Peterson nods, and takes cover next to the new hole ripped in the wall. The hit squad is moving closer, but surprisingly, the rookie gets one in the hand. Instantly though, I see the pattern, a staggered approach to provide cover fire for each other, but where was the third man, their leader..... ahhh those clever bastards are covering for their leader as he sneaks around to the side of the repair shop to flank the young idiot.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: He turns suddenly pointing his gun at the side wall. He screamed, “Get down!” Then fired his pistol through the window, taking out the leader of the hit squad just as he was about to put a bullet through the young Agent’s head. Well, that should help establish trust, Peterson thought grimly.

11:21 Dave_Smith: Fucking bastards… that fucking young snot shot Aaron through the hand. And that fucker Peterson just offed Mike. Bastard traitor. My clip is empty, no bullets left. I charge forward, keeping the wall between me and that young rookie. Slamming into the wall, I spring around it suddenly, and tackle that fucker Peterson, driving him to the grimy, dirty floor of the repair shop. I’ll fucking kill him with my own two hands.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I continue with the shootout and Peterson turns to face me. I briefly tilt my gun towards him and apply tension to the trigger, but his words make me halt. I throw myself to the floor with a grunt, landing on my side. As I fall, so does another man.. the squad's leader. I peek above my cover, showing only my eyes and the bridge of my nose and look at Peterson. "Thanks.." I grumble awkwardly, knowing that could have been the end of me.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: A loud roar grabs both our attention, and suddenly the last one jumps in and tackles Peterson. I stand up, pointing my gun at them both. They wrestle on the floor and it's difficult to get a clear shot, so I take matters into my own hands. I run forward and boot the Syndicate in the face, peeling him off Peterson as blood spurts across the workshop walls. With a clear shot of the Syndicate scum at my feet, I aim my gun right at his forehead and pull the trigger. The gun clicks. Empty.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You've got to be fucking kiddi--EURGGHH" I feel something hard and heavy pelt me in the gut, sinking me to my knees as I cough and splutter. The fucker booted me in return and suddenly he's on me, tackling me and pinning my back down to the floor.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Pathetic child, playing with guns and can't even count bullets" he spits at me as he finds my throat and grips it with his hands. Peterson steps forward to intervene, but my hands scramble across the floor until I find my fallen gun and I pistol whip the fucker off me. As he grunts from the blow and loosens his grip I get my feet under his chest and heave him off me, straight into Peterson.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I climb to my feet and continue my attack, but not before glancing at Peterson and saying "keep your fucking hands off him". I brawl with the Syndicate, my first time laying my hands on someone from the disgusting organisation that killed my father. I throw a fist connecting with his jaw, then follow up with a knee to his gut. As he folds into my punch he wraps his arms around my torso and attempts to wrestle me down, but I elbow him in the back.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I catch sight of Peterson's face, almost fascinated by my unexpected abilities. I don't look like a fighter. My brothers tell me that constantly. "Gun," I say to him flatly. Peterson reaches down and picks up his gun, throwing it to me. "Does this one have bullets?" I ask and Peterson smirks, nodding gently. "Good," I mumble, before pointing it at the Syndicate's left kneecap and firing a bullet into it.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: He screams as he falls to the floor, blood splattering the concrete ground. Peterson's eyes widen as he witnesses my darker side coming out. I look into his eyes with a confidence I didn't realise I had. "We'll get to you, and you'll tell us what you know, but I also want answers from this piece of shit" I boot the fallen syndicate in the face. "Tell me where Derek Steel is," I demand, sweat pouring down my body and making my shirt stick to me. The demons creep back in, and there's laughing in my ear.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You call that intimidating? You're a little boy threatening a gangster" I clench my teeth. The demons make me angry.

11:21 Dave_Smith: I’m looking up at his goddamn psycho fucker… screaming my head off, my knee… the bastard shot my knee… AWWWWWWW FUCKKK…. I stare down in disbelief at my ruined knee. How the hell did this hellion beat the shit outta me? He’s so fucking skinny a good breeze could blow him away.. But he beat the shit outta me, put a bullet in my knee… I scream again, the pain so brutal I can’t think. He kicks me in my face again, sending more of my blood splashing across the room.. OH fuck… he’s gonna fucking kill me… fUCK FUCK.. I mumble, missing some teeth, sobbing in fright, “I dunno man… I dunno.. Please… he don’t tell us where he is… I’m just a hired gun.. Fuck please, don’t kill me…”

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: He looks closely at the young, handsome, bearded agent, clearly in the grip of some kind of battle rage. He didn’t even think this young kid’s balls had dropped yet, then he goes and pulls all this action hero shit right out of his ass. More to him than meets the eye, that’s for goddamn sure. His eyes have a confident, don’t fuck with me cast to them. Damn. He might have some potential after all. Peterson was thinking to himself, Fascinating. Brutal. Who would have guessed? Richard speaks up then, “Say, aren’t you Jack Young? Trent’s kid? I’ve seen pictures of you. Those pictures were in a report I saw back at base. A report about the assasination of General Trent Young. Steel pulled that off himself, you know.” Then, he nods down at the cowering mercenary, “You might as well kill that bastard. He won’t talk because he can’t. He doesn’t know where Steel is. Steel isn’t in the habit of letting just anyone know his location. He’s pretty paranoid. He’s got a lot of enemies. I’m guessing you are one of them. What with your dad and all. I’m guessing from the way you went all apeshit on that bastard there, you really want your hands on Steel. I want the same thing.”

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: He continues, walking slowly towards you. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I can get you to Steel. Tonight. You and me. Just the two of us. I know where his current base of operation is. He’s here, in Toronto. He doesn’t know that I know. But before I decided to cut my ties with the Syndicate before that whackjob Steel decided to make me pay for my fuck up, I did my homework. I found out where his base is at. The thing is, the thing is… he’s leaving tomorrow morning. If you tell your superiors about this, then they’ll capture him, but I’m guessing you want him dead. To judge by how you went all apeshit on that bastard, I think you’d much rather have him dead. So do I.”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I keep the gun pointed at the Syndicate piece-of-shit, frowning as I listen to Peterson's words. Derek Steel.. Syndicate top dog, evil motherfucker.. father killer. He could be mine. The CCS want him alive, as does my own agency. They want to question him, but not about my father - they don't care about that. I need to have my vengeance, I need to look him in the eye and see the light leave his eyes. I need to do it for my family; my mother and brothers. I need their respect. I toy and grapple with the opportunity, tearing myself apart knowing it's going against my direct orders. Suddenly my mind is made up.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: BANG. I pull the trigger and shoot the syndicate hitman in the head. A silence falls upon the room as I aim the gun at Peterson and stare him in the eye. "We go, we talk and I kill him. We tell the CSIS we chased these fuckers to wherever the hell he is, and took him down in the process. But if you.." I take a step towards Peterson as he stares down the barrel of my gun. "..even try to double cross me, even think about it.. I'll turn you into your little Syndicate friend right here.." I kick the body of the dead scum at my feet.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Peterson is amused by my words, but there's a tiny shred more respect there than there was before. I follow him out of the workshop and head to my car, luckily parked far enough away from the cop car that it didn't sustain much damage. "In the front, I need eyes on you" I command Peterson. I glance over at the wounded cops, Meyers still screaming but quieter now.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Are you guys alright?" I ask, warmth returning to my heart that was so cold moments ago.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Yeah, just dandy.." Meyers whines through pained gasps. "We called for medics and backup, they'll be here soon.." his tone was cold, almost unforgiving. I nod and turn away from them, but before I walk away I face them once more.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "I'm really sorry.. I put you in harm's way and that was a mistake on my part. Thank you for your help, and I promise I'll do better next time," I flash them a brief grin before making haste to my car.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You're alright, kid.." I hear King say behind me.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I sit next to Peterson in the car and look at him, my heart growing colder once more. "Where?" I turn the engine.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: It was bold, bold but the way that kid had treated the hitman… it told Peterson everything he needed to know. He knew how eager this kid was to get Steel. So he gave the kid what he wanted. And he had been right. He kills the hitman, executes him mercilessly. He nods, impressed. He can be ruthless when he needs to be. Just like his father. Peterson is indeed amused by the threat, expecting nothing less.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: He also very carefully observed the change in attitude as Jack interacted with the two cops. Oh yes. He was a very interesting character indeed, was Jack. Peterson leads the way as ordered, then gets in the car. Peterson looks over at Jack, amused at the kid’s eagerness and his naivete. Then, suddenly, Jack’s phone rings.

11:21 Agent_Jeff_Rogers: When Director Powers finally got through to me, and explained the situation I had been stunned. Seriously? Richard Peterson, Steel’s main operator for eastern Canada had defected? Sold out Steel? I considered it carefully. Looking at the problem from multiple angles. True, Steel would be pissed as fuck over Peterson’s failure with the big raid on the lab outside Montreal. I had led that counter-action myself in fact. But, while Steel was not known for his kind and loving nature, neither was he known for arbitrarily killing his underlings. He was far more subtle than that. I ought to know. It was my job to know. Something… something didn’t feel right about this. I leaned back in my desk and rubbed my hands through my hair, and down through my beard, giving my temples a massage. Today had started rough, with that hostage situation, and now this.. What made it even worse was who they had sent to “rescue” Peterson. Jack Young.

11:21 Agent_Jeff_Rogers: It still hurt. To this day, it still hurt. Losing Trent, losing another friend, a man that had been like a brother to me, to those murdering Syndicate bastards. I’d done my best to look out for Jack from a distance, to work from the shadows to help remove obstacles for him, to ensure he had a spot at the Academy, even having words with a few of his instructors. He was good, very good. He had all the talent his Father had. But he was a hothead. He had too much to prove. That was the consistent feedback from all his instructors. Maybe… maybe I should have been more involved with him as he was growing up, should have tried to fill in for his Father, instead of remaining such a distant figure in his life. He was the only one that wanted to follow in his Father’s footsteps, after all. I could have guided him personally instead of from the shadows. But it wasn’t my place. And his mother had things under control. She always believed her children needed to make their own choices. But now.... Suddenly, he was dropped into the middle of his first live-fire combat situation without backup. My guts clenched. We had backup on the way of course, but they were still 20 minutes away. But I couldn’t face his mother… not if… not if.

11:21 Agent_Jeff_Rogers: I pulled up his bio, and once more read the reports of his instructors, talented, a well-developed sense of empathy, highly intelligent and clever, exceedingly good marksmanship, but hotheaded, prone to act before thinking. And… I allowed myself to add in the privacy of my mind… exceedingly handsome. Not that I could let himself think about Jack in that way, for so many reasons. But there it was. He was so earnest, and his beard, those eyes, the way he carried himself. I longed to be able to take him under my wing, give him the guidance and support he deserved. But instead, I had made myself into a distant authority figure that he only saw on official occasions. I sighed, that was the price of duty for you.

11:21 Agent_Jeff_Rogers: Then, my phone rang. I picked up, nodding in relief. The two coppers that had been diverted as backup had reported into dispatch. The situation was secure, two hitmen were dead, one injured. One cop was injured, and Jack was fine, and had secured Peterson. Fuck. I sighed out in relief. Why hadn’t Jack reported in though? Inexperience… the excitement of his first battle… I knew the feeling. I’d been young once, with something to prove. I called Jack on his phone, speaking as soon as he picked up, “Agent Young, this is Rogers. First of all, good work. Second of all, hold tight. We are sending a team to secure Peterson. They will be there in about 20 minutes. After Peterson is secure, you are ordered off duty. Go relax. Go de-stress. And then, I expect to see you in my office first thing tomorrow at 9am for a debriefing. Are your orders clear? Do you have any questions?”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I sit next to Peterson in my car, my heart pounding and beads of sweat forming on my forehead, but I refuse to show it. "Tell me where, and then I'll drop you off at the agency, cuffed. You say Agent Young had to return to the scene for further investigation"

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The words come out like vomit as my mind spins.. I'm panicking. I'm getting myself into a situation too deep for me to actually handle. My ringtone blasts through the car speakers as my phone connects to the hands-free. It's a CSIS number. My heart sinks further.. I answer.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Oh, uhh--" I stutter as I hear a familiar warm and gruff voice on the other end. "Agent Rogers, hi." A friend of my father's, a man I’ve always had a crush on. He gives me more orders I cannot follow, asking me to sit tight at the repair shop. My heart falls out of my ass and the sweat pours down my cheek.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Peterson lets out a bemused chuckle next to me, clearly enjoying this. I momentarily mute the call. "FUCK!" I yell, smacking the steering wheel. I need to think fast.. real fucking fast. I unmute.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Sir, Peterson is in the car with me. I'm cuffng him and leaving him there to be processed." I look over at Peterson. "I'm heading home after that and will see you in the morning at 9am sharp" I close my eyes briefly, my face squinting as I pray for Rogers approval and no further questions to follow, my palms sweating.

11:21 Agent_Jeff_Rogers: I sit back, and listen carefully, as Jack responds to me. I think it over. If he’s already in the car, and on his way back to the CSIS HQ with Peterson, and if Peterson has been cuffed, that should be fine. I strain hard, listening to his voice, seeking those clues that I’ve learned to listen for over the years, the signs of extreme stress. He certainly seems to be stressed, but his answers are logical, he’s not hysterical, not about to crack up. I can examine him more fully tomorrow morning, but for now, I’m satisfied that he’s managed to come through his first live fire incident intact mentally and physically. I feel a small swelling of pride, his father would be so proud of him. But he’s not here… so I’ll have to be proud of him for Trent. There was so much of Trent in Jack… the eyes, the beard, his determination. So much of the man I loved was in his son. I spoke up then, “Okay Agent Young, drop him off cuffed at the HQ, then you are off duty until 9am tomorrow morning. And… Jack… your father would be proud of you. I know he’s not here to tell you that, but … for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you too.” Then, I hang up, and begin to make my preparations to interrogate this Syndicate sell-out. He would have some very hard questions to ask.

11:21 Agent_Richard_Peterson: Peterson listens to the conversation, but stays quiet. He speaks up then, with a grin on his face. “That’s more or less what I was expecting. Standard procedure.” He holds out his wrists to be cuffed, and starts talking, “Steel is currently operating out of an abandoned railway yard, on the eastern outskirts of Toronto. There are a series of shipping containers there that he’s converted for his own use. No one goes there anymore, it’s not even patrolled by private security. He leaves tomorrow though, and I have no idea where he is off to after that. It was hard enough just finding out about his current setup, believe me.”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I drive towards the CSIS headquarters, Jeff's voice twisting my gut as he talks about my father. Suddenly I feel sick. Would he really be proud? Knowing that I'm lying to the agency and tracking down a brutal and merciless Syndicate leader all on my own for my own private vengeance. It was reckless, selfish; a child's act. But right now I couldn't even fathom the prospect of not going after him. I switch on the AC to get some cool air blowing in my face, for a moment it feels like being back in the mortuary. The quiet, peaceful mortuary.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: There's a silence after Jeff speaks before I can even respond to him, his words stirring my mind. "Th-thank you sir," I stutter slightly as my arms start trembling. Fuck, not now. "See you in the morning,". Jeff Rogers. Tall, confident and warm, a man I’ve had a crush on for so many years. I hadn't seen him other than for official ceremonies, since I was a teenager, and I'd only met him on a few rare occasions. A feeling came back to me, something I hadn't felt since then. Butterflies. My stomach churned and fluttered, making me feel even more sick.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I'd never felt this for anybody else, and I couldn't even make sense of the feeling now as I approached CSIS HQ. What did I feel for Jeff? Who was he to me?

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Peterson's booming voice cuts through my trailing thoughts like a vicious knife, and suddenly I'm back in the car with him. I listen to his directions and my mind grows darker, heart growing colder. This is really happening.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I pull up outside CSIS and open the door with my trembling hands. I skirt around the car to Peterson's door and let him out, walking side-by-side into headquarters. Before we approach security and within earshot of everyone else, I mutter "Thank you, Peterson. You saved me tonight and I'll never let that go unspoken, even if it means thanking a Syndicate agent" I grimace at the words, did I just thank a Syndicate agent?

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: We approach the security and I scan my badge, gaining access to the building. Inside are more armed security guards. I'm running out of time. I approach a small group of them and gesture at Peterson. "I have a Syndicate agent here defecting to us for protection, can you see to it that he is processed and detained under Director Powers' orders. I'm Jack Young, he's co-operative and low risk but cuffed to be sure. I have to run," the security guards nod and take over from me. Before leaving the building I glance at Peterson knowingly one more time, he smirks at me but it's a different smirk than before.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I have no time to dwell on it, I pick up the pace back to my car and sit back behind the wheel. I have a good 30 minute drive ahead of me and it's going to feel like hours. Abandoned rail yard, eastern outskirts. I think I know the place. I turn the engine, and set off.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The drive is quiet, and night begins to fall upon the city, cloaking us all in darkness. The comforting glow of the sun turns into a dark and sinister threat, my headlights cutting into the black veil.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My mind visits a thousand places as I leave the city behind me, completely on my own. Nobody knows I'm here, and I'm fully aware this is the stupidest thing a government agent could possibly do. I contemplate calling Jeff, just to hear his voice and seek guidance. But I can't.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I fill the silence with loud music, heavy rock blasting through my speakers as I attempt to scare the thoughts away. I arrive at the railyard, pulling up a distance away so that my engine and music don't alert Derek to my arrival, if he's even here.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The trembles, they're back. My hands and arms start shaking violently as I look ahead at all the carriages and containers. The railyard is dark, dirty and slimy - just like the Syndicate that once operated within it. Old tyre tracks stain the mud on this otherwise unused road.. they've definitely been here.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The shakes start getting worse, I have no other choice. If Derek is in there and I want to take him down, I need to be on top form. I reach under my seat and grab a small, ornate flask with the initials "TY" etched into the side. Also with the flask is a small pouch of white pills. Anti-anxiety. A problem I've always had on account of my family and upbringing, but only on special occasions do I need the pills.. And this was certainly a special occasion. I throw 3 or 4 of them into my mouth, quickly drowning them with the scotch in my father's flask. I wince and retch as they go down. I fucking hate scotch, but God it helps. I throw the flask onto my passenger seat and leave the car, out into the cold, wet night. The wind bites at my face, it's cool like the mortuary but nowhere near as gentle and inviting. It's harsh and angry. I take my gun and hold it firmly in my hand, making sure I have enough extra rounds for whatever may happen in here. The shakes are still there but they'll be gone soon, as will Derek. I set off towards the railyard, silently and hurriedly. This is for you, Dad.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I lean back in the small nest I had built atop the long disused railway signalman’s tower. Fuck, I hated Canada in the autumn. What a hellhole this whole stinking country was. I normally spend as little time here as I could get away with, but today really required the personal touch. You see, I had a little social visit in mind.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Trent Young’s son, Jack had just graduated from the Academy and was planning on following in good ol’ dad’s footsteps. That mother fucking bastard Trent.. I still feel the rage boiling up in me even today. That mother fucking bastard, and his pal Jeff, had harpooned a smuggling scheme I’d spent over two years setting up, costing me over 10 million dollars in lost bonus money from the Syndicate when I couldn’t deliver. He’d humiliated me. Embarrassed me. And so I taught him a valuable lesson: You don’t fuck with Derek Steel. And he learned it really well. With, as you might say, deadly effect.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Normally, when the Syndicate needs something done, they call on me and my band of elite mercenaries. I don’t work for the Syndicate directly, preferring to stay as an independent contractor, but I was the best, and they always called on me for the most difficult assignments. They paid what I asked, no questions asked. Because I delivered. And Trent Young had put a stain on my honor that had taken a while to re-establish. So today’s mission was on the house. On my own recognizance as it were. The Syndicate had lended me some of their resources, but Peterson was my man, not the Syndicates. Not even that idiot Jeff Rogers fully understood who was Syndicate and who worked directly for me. And I planned on keeping it that way. All they saw was we did the work and the Syndicate paid. But today… today was all about Derek Steel.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Peterson was good, one of my best men. When I’d explained my plan, he’d jumped at the chance. He even went so far as to tail that fucking idiot Jack all through his first week, until he found the right opportunity to set Jack up, to find the perfect moment when Jack was no where near backup. Then, it was easy as pie for me to tell the Syndicate that I had a rogue agent, and could they please send one of their hit squads to finish him off. Easy as pie. The rest was up to Peterson. There was a risk the idiot would get himself killed in the fire fight, but hey, in my job, you take risks every day. If Jack survived, all Peterson had to do was get Trent’s brat out here by himself so I could have some fun with him. I knew he would do it. I trusted him. He was good. That story I told him to feed CSIS, about how I was pissed at his botched raid on the lab? Fuck, that was good. True too. But it wasn’t Peterson’s fault. I laid the blame square in the lap of that fucker Jeff Rogers. Well. Tonight would be payback for that as well. I’d done my homework when I’d set up my assasisation of that fucker, General Trent Young. I knew all about the friendship between Jeff and Trent. And I figured putting Jack on ice would hurt Jeff as much as it would get me off. Such an efficient setup, killing so many birds with one stone. And as for what I planned to do with Jack before blowing his brains out, well… I had plans. Plans that would not only get me back the money I’d lost but put a dark stain on the Young family name as well as stick a knife into that bastard Rogers.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: And I’d done my homework on Jack as well. Had him tailed, observed. Sometimes taking on the job myself. I seldom had the chance to do field work anymore, but for Jack I made a special exception. I had him pegged as a reckless idiot needing to prove himself. And … as the headlights approached the rail yard, my conclusions about Peterson’s ability, about Jack’s stupidity, were all confirmed. I took off my nightvision goggles after confirming that the young, bearded man with the intense look in his eyes, holding his pistol ready for action was indeed Jack. Then, silent as a wraith, I slid down the ladder and began to make my way towards Trent’s brat.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I was good at hurting people. During my time in the UK Royal Marines, before I decided that crime paid better, I learned plenty of ways to hurt, break, maim and kill men with my fists and feet. Weighing in at 220lbs, standing 6’ tall, my body was a finely tuned fighting machine, covered in thick, lean, hairy muscle. I was also trained in interrogation, torture, infiltration, weapons handling to boot. I planned first to beat Jack to a fuckiing pulp with my fists, then use some of my very specialized torture skills on him till he broke. I was wearing my trademark black boots, black jeans, and black muscle-hugging tight shirt, with my tactical belt strapped around my waist, containing my combat knife, my silenced pistol, ziptie, lockpicks, and a metal nightstick plus a taser for more fun.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Moving as quiet and silent as only one of the best, well-trained Royal Marine could do, I approached Jack as he searched around through the abandoned railyard. I grinned, got a bead on him, as he wandered between two abandoned cargo containers. I had excellent cover, behind a stack of rusting rails, then I called on my expert marksmanship skills. I waited until the moon light perfectly illuminated the barrel of his pistol, then I fired one shot, and with my silencer engaged, he wasn’t even close enough to hear it. Let’s see if my aim is still as good as always… This single silent shot was not aimed at Jack… but instead, at the gun he was holding. Let’s start the games. This is going to be fun.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I silently stalk through the railyard, believing 100% that I am unexpected and about to catch the infamous Derek Steel unaware. I keep my gun pointed, my ears alert and my eyes scanning. The wind and rain make it difficult to hear anything else, there's no movement from inside any of these containers. Is he even here? Did Peterson lie to me? I tread carefully, avoiding puddles and twigs that may give away my position. "You're doing well," I think to myself. "You can still catch this fucker.."

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Suddenly there's a harsh PING and my gun catapults out of my hand, flying through the air and landing some distance away from me. "Arrgghh!" I scream out as my hand throbs in pain from the impact, but I roll forward and duck behind cover, my back pressed up against a shipping container. "Fuck!!" I think to myself, panting and trying to think of a solution and fast.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My gun lies on the ground before me, but it's out in the open. If I reach for it, I get shot. Quick, what else have I got? Tactical knife. Wait for him to get close, slash his Achille's tendon, bring him to him down and slash his throat? Fast, effective.. but he'll be trained better than me, and that requires accuracy. Fist fight? I know this guy is huge, way bigger than me and could crush me like an insect.. but I have speed and agility on my side. It would be a long and brutal fight.. but I could wear him down.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You're screwed," say the demons, my chest heaving. Fuck.. I have no idea what to do. My hand instinctively goes to my pocket, embracing my cell phone. Jeff.. if I tell him where I am and hold Derek off, he'd come. He'd help me.. No. I'm not putting him at risk. I came here to end Derek fucking Steel, that bed has been made. This ends now.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I leave the gun, it's too risky. I grasp the handle of my knife and remove it from it's holster. It's so sharp and intimidating, endless possibilities for hurting a man. I hold it in a military stance, with the blade pointing down and away from my body, poised to slash and stab. I move along the shipping container, trying to create distance. I carefully plot my next move, and try to anticipate Derek's actions. He's aggressive and ruthless.. is he still aiming? Or is he on his way to me right now? I have to make a decision and pray it's the right one. He may be ruthless, but he's also patient and tactical. He's still there, aiming his gun. I felt it in my bones. He wouldn't be stupid enough to come down to me in case I had a second gun.. right? Fuck I wish I had a second gun.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I turn the corner, now crouching at the end of the shipping container. It's closed, opening it will be too loud. In front of me is a train carriage, I can get there without being seen, still in cover. I go for it, sneaking forward and lying on my stomach, sliding under the carriage, knife grasped firmly. "Fucking come at me Steel, I wanna see the look in your eye after each cut this knife makes.." I think to myself, feeling my anger build again. I'm ready.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I nod, approving. He has fast reflexes, and decent instincts at least. I observe as he dives into cover behind the end of the shipping container. He will think twice before trying to grab for his gun. But I wonder… will it occur to him that if I had wanted him dead, he would be dead? Or would he stop to think about the odds of a missed shot hitting his gun instead of him. I smiled. Oh, he was going to be fun.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I burst out of cover, running swiftly, but silently to flank the other side of the shipping container Jack was using as cover, my black gear making me near invisible, especially now that clouds have moved in and covered the moon and rain is starting to fall. I find a good spot to observe next to a train carriage. I squat low, hiding behind one of the wheels, able to see over the coupling joint with a good field of view of the side of the shipping container. Jack is carefully making his way down the side of the container. Not aware that he is in full view of his predator. I lick my lips gently. He is a handsome one too. He’d look so good with my manhood shoved down his throat. In time, Derek, in time. Good things come to those who wait.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Oh, this is too rich. He’s actually sliding underneath the carriage, totally unaware that I’m on the other side of the carriage. I really should just shoot him now. But then, I’d be doing the CSIS a favor. I’m not in the habit of doing them any favors. Does he really think that I would approach him from the same direction I fired my gun from? I lean down, very quiet and cautiously, slowly, without making a sound, pull out my own wicked combat knife with my left hand. I look under the carriage, and his feet are within an easy grasp of my right hand, he’s on his stomach, looking back towards the end of the shipping container, his feet nearly poking out the other side of the carriage. I suppose he’s expecting me to waltz around the corner, thinking he can leap from hiding and slice me up with his blade?

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Well, how about I teach Trent’s brat the difference between stories and real life… In stories, the naive, young hero always manages to pull victory out of thin air… but in real life… they learn not to fuck with Derek Steel. I explode into savage, sudden violence, grabbing his left ankle with my right hand and with a colossal explosion of muscle, I YANK back hard, to partially pull him out from under the carriage. As I yank back on his ankle, I stab my combat blade down, looking to sink my blade right into his left hamstring.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I lay in waiting, refusing to make the first move. I'll wait him out if I have to, I could have the upper hand here - all he has to do is walk past. I see it in my mind, Derek Steel sneaking past the carriage in an attempt to find me. I wait for an opening and SLASH at his Achille's tendon, blood spurting as he falls to the ground in a slump. Before he can react to my attack I'm on him, stabbing at his back, slicing his hand to disarm him. Then, he will be mine. I'll turn him over and look into his eyes, as he stares back at my father's. People always said I had his eyes. And then I'll--

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuck!!" I shout out as suddenly I'm dragged from under the safety of my carriage. Fuck fuck fuck this wasn't supposed to happen! I had him! I can't see my attacker but as soon as I'm dragged, I kick my booted foot straight up, hoping to connect with Derek's face. Instead, I connect with the wrist of his knife-wielding hand, blocking his incoming stab. I turn quickly onto my back, thankful my bulletproof vest could offer at least SOME protection against the massive blade he's trying to sink into my flesh.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I use my other foot to boot him in crotch; a cheap shot but I need to do whatever it takes to take down this hulk. I try to roll from under the carriage but the wheel is blocking my exit. Fuck! Being on the floor under Derek Steel is not a position I should be in if I want to win. My knife! I can only see Derek from the chest down, and the bottom of the carriage prevents me from sitting forward. I hook around his thigh with one foot - the other still holding off his knife attack - and heave myself closer to him, almost free from under the carriage. I then plunge the knife straight at his thigh, the only place I can get to from my position, just enough to hopefully slow him down.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: FUCK! The little shit can bite. He kicks up with his right foot, smashing into my left wrist, with desperate strength, knocking my blade free to sail across the railway yard. I shake out my left wrist, my eyes narrowing, as I begin to realize for all his inexperience he is not to be underestimated. And that is fine with me. I like it when my prey fights back.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I’m not so stupid as to hang around and be a target for Trent’s brat, though. And I nimbly twist my hips as he twists onto his back, breaking the grip I had on his ankle, his attempt to smash my nuts lands on my quad as I twist instead of my balls. Pretty strong kick though. The boy has got some good strength. “C’mon boy… you want Derek Steel? Derek Steel is right here for the taking.” I grin viciously as Jake snakes his foot out to hook my thigh, and pulls himself towards me. “That’s right boy, come to daddy… Oh wait, your daddy is dead, isn’t he?”

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Both my hands, free now, though I’m not sure Jack realizes that his clever kick knocked my knife out of my hand. But I’m pretty sure he’s got a knife in his. I’m counting on it. With snake fast reflexes, my right hand darts down, just as sure enough a knife comes whistling out from beneath the carriage towards my thigh. I grab the skinny fucker’s wrist just before the blade sinks into my thigh, grunting, “Nuh uh… that’s not how this game is played fucker.” My bicep flexing and rippling with power, I yank forward, looking to pull Jack the rest of the way clear from beneath the train carriage. I charge up my knee, smashing it forward, trying to bury my knee right in the shit’s face as I struggle to pull him out from under the train carriage.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I'm so focused, prepared for any blocking or counter attack Steel may throw my way. I miss his crotch. Fuck. Then suddenly he talks about my father. "Your daddy is dead, isn't he?" he mocks and my blood begins to boil, and then stops my knife in its tracks. Double fuck. I gaze into his cold eyes and clench my teeth, drawing on all my strength and roaring in anger.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "You're a fucking piece of shit!" I yell as I wrestle with all my might.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: He pulled me towards him and his knee brutally smashed my face. "Unnggghh--!" I groan as my head snaps back and my nose and mouth throb in pain. That fucking hurt, and Steel presses his knee down onto my face. My legs scramble across the ground as I struggle and squirm. I bring my free hand around the knee that's crushing me and under Derek's crotch, directly under the blade I'm holding in the other hand. I release the knife, hoping to God I catch the handle and not the blade.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: It falls past Steel's crotch and into my hand, I close my fingers and grab half handle and half blade, wincing a muffled moan into Steel's knee as the blade slices my palm and fingers. In a swift movement, I bring my hand back out and reposition my hand, holding the knife behind Steel's back as it drips with my blood.. and lunge it at Derek.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I grind my knee into this fucker’s face, loving the feel of his squirming and suffering. It’s just what the spawn of that bastard Trent deserves. But then, what’s this? The little runt weaves his hand behind my knee, beneath my crotch and grabs the blade out of his other hand. Instantly, my eyes widen, realizing that I have to stop underestimating this little prick. He’s much tougher than he looks. He pulls his hand back with the knife, and winds up to stab me in the back.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I drop my knee rapidly, and with a savage yank, I pull hard on the hand that I’m still gripping tightly, to throw him off balance, I feel a line of hot fire running down the side of my hip as his blade slices across my left hip. FUCK. It burns like a mother fucker, but it’s not deep. It could have been much worse. As I practically yank Jack off to my right side with my brutal grip, I launch out a savage kick with my left boot, aiming to smash his hand to make him lose his grip on his blade. I snarl, “You are really starting to piss me off Jack.”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: It all happens in a blur, I feel even more enraged that I didn't get to plunge that knife deep into his back, but at least I sliced him. Steel's heavy boot smashes onto my hand as I'm yanked to the side with terrifying force and I cry out. FUCK!! It feels like the bones in my hand have just been shattered into a thousand pieces. My grip loosens on the knife slightly, but I'm not losing this fight. I fight through the pain and grip the knife tight, my hand throbbing as I clench my fist around the blade.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuck you, Steel. I've dreamed of this moment for years. I'm ripping your head off your fucking shoulders" I spit my words through gritted teeth as I prepare to slash at Derek once more, the tip of the knife aiming right at his abs of steel. I anticipate that he might block this, so I resort to dirty tactics and with my free hand I grab a handful of dirt and pebbles. I bring them up in an attempt to blind Steel before diving at him with the knife. I'm not fucking playing around.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Impressed. I nod at Jack, finally seeing him in another light altogether. He really is Trent’s son. Trent didn’t go down easy, and neither will Jack. But in the end, it didn’t matter for Trent, and it won’t matter for Jack. But my respect for Jack Young was on the rise, and my respect was not easily earned.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I wasn’t about to stand by and let myself face off with a man of Jack’s obvious skill with a knife while I was unarmed, so I reached down to my tactical belt and whipped out my heavy steel baton with my left hand as Jack was mouthing his threats at me. I’m in full on combat mode now, and I’m not fucking around. Play time is over. He suddenly dives at me with his blade, and tosses a handful of pebbles at my face at the same time. I smoothly side step, pivoting on my boot, turning side on, so both the handful of pebbles and the blade hit empty air. I bring my steel baton down with sickening brutality as I twist, looking to smash it down with bone-breaking force on his knife wielding forearm.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: There's no way this knife will miss, I'm filled with a rage-instilled confidence as I stab at Steel. The blade connects with nothing but air, and in a swift and skilled movement, Steel smashes his debilitating steel baton down onto my forearm. I scream loudly as the solid metal shatters my arm, and the knife finally falls from my hand. It hurts like absolute hell but I can't let it slow my momentum, I can't lose this.. but I have nothing left. No gun, no knife. He has everything. The steel baton glistens in the moonlight, threatening me with more bone-crunching bludgeoning.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuuuckk!!" I grasp my arm and clench my teeth as I roll away from Steel. I need to get on top of this. He's on me, walking purposefully and sadistically towards me. I quickly get to my feet before he reaches me, refusing to stay down any more. With my good arm I swing a fist at his face. It was desperate and uncalculated, almost panicked. But Steel's demeanour had changed. He wasn't messing around now, he wanted my blood. A fist fight is all I can offer now. A fistfight with a man practically double my size, almost 10 years my senior and a hell of a lot more experienced.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: He’s keen, determined, fierce, but he’s not Derek Steel. I feel the satisfactory CRUNCHHH as my heavy baton smashes down onto his forearm, forcing him to drop the knife. With an ice cold expressionless cast to my hard, lightly bearded face, I stalk after Jack. I’m done fucking around. Done playing. I’m going to make Jack feel more pain then he ever thought possible. I’m going to fucking get inside his head and make him curse the day he thought he was man enough to even be in the same room as me.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: To his credit, he scrambles back up and throws a desperate punch at my head with his left hand, as his right forearm looks broken. I don’t flinch, don’t change my expression. But suddenly, with the speed and fluidity that comes from a lifetime in combat, my right hand shoots out and seizes the wrist of his left hand. I step to the side, twisting and pulling, guiding his wild, uncoordinated punch over my shoulder as I turn my back to him, then pulling down on his wrist heavy and hard, I lean forward, my solid abs crunching with power, looking to simply toss Jack over my shoulder like the bag of garbage he is, looking to send the smaller, lighter man flipping head over heels against the side of the train carriage he thought he could hide under to ambush me from.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My fist soars past Steel's head, and in an absolute blur of motion I'm flung over his shoulder. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms, his intimidating muscles needing no effort whatsoever to smash me against the train carriage.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My back collides with the metal exterior and I grunt from the impact. Fuck.. he's too good. I ricochet off the carriage and land with a heavy thud on the cold ground, my chest taking the impact, along with my broken forearm.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuuuckk!!" I groan as the pain spreads across my body and my arm throbs again. This can't be it, I can't let this happen. I weakly bring myself to my hands and knees, unable to apply my weight to my right hand. My limbs tremble as I struggle, desperate to fight back. "You fucker.." I spit at the ground.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: My face still cold as ice, my eyes burning with fury, I watch with deep satisfaction as Trent’s spawn smashes brutally into the train carriage, collapsing in a heap on the rocky ground beside the track bed. Again though, to his credit, he doesn’t give up, struggling up to his one good hand and knees, mouthing another curse at me. I cut his mouthy comeback short, by drawing my heavy steel-toed combat boot back, gathering the power in my heavy steel-cabled thigh, and launch a fucking brutal, vicious kick, driving the unforgiving steel toe of my combat boot up and under Jack’s quivering body with all my force deep in his young, tender guts. Treating his lean, wiry frame like nothing more than a football on the pitch.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I desperately try and bring myself back to my feet. This is Derek's opportunity to absolutely annihilate me. I raise my body from the cold, rocky ground and my arm and legs tremble more and more.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Steel pummels me with a gutwrenching boot to the stomach with absolutely immense power. His steel-toed boot connects with my body just under the bulletproof vest, the part of my gut that is unprotected and I feel it full force.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "UUURFGGHH--" I grunt out as I gasp and cough, searching for air. The force of the kick causes my back to slam against the carriage again. I lay on my side as I splutter and groan, a horrible dull ache filling my guts. My hand reaches out and grabs his boot. It was an instinct. A stupid and pointless instinct as I have no strength whatsoever to hold off the brute from this position. "Uurrggg--" I moan into the ground. I look around desperately, the closest thing is my knife but it's a crawl away. Panic starts setting in.. I have no fucking idea what to do. "Fuck!!" I yell in frustration and pain.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: My face remains as cold as ice and just as expressionless as I watch Jack Young slam into the carriage again, before crumpling beneath my feet. His left hand reaches out pathetically to grab my right boot. Shaking his hand off my boot, I viciously lift my boot, and stomp down on his left hand, grinding his fingers into the rocky stones beside the tracks, crunching and driving down with vicious force. Then, with my left hand I pin Jack’s face to the ground, and lower my left knee on the back of his head, to pin his head to the ground, even as my boot keeps his left hand ground underfoot.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Grinding his handsome, bearded face into the rocky stones beneath my knee, I reach down for my heavy, wicked combat knife. I speak then, in an almost conversational tone. “You know Jack, I’m so glad you came here today. I’ve been wanting to tell you all about how I gutted your dad like a rotten fish for so long. How he screamed and begged for mercy at the end. I wondered… is it true? Is it really like father, like son? How will you face me, fucker?” It was a lie of course. Trent had stayed stoic to the end, he was one tough bastard. But Jack wouldn’t know that. I resheathe my steel baton as I pull out my heavy knife. Casually, as I pin Jack to the ground, I lever the wicked tip beneath the rear collar of his bullet proof vest. These vests are great at stopping bullets, but against the lateral sheering force of a proper blade, worthless. With a few jagged saws of my heavy knife, I literally saw his vest in half, right down the middle, the heavy blade occasionally “missing” to slice into his leanly muscled back, and cutting away most of his undershirt as well.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: As my mind races to think of my next move to get back on top, a heavy boot suddenly smashes into my left hand. I scream. The pain is unbearable as my knuckles and fingers feel like they shatter into a thousand pieces, and Derek twists the boot, adding to the pain.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My screams become muffled as Steel plants his knee against the back of my head, force my my face into the ground. A few rocks cut into my forehead and cheek. I'm in serious fucking trouble now. I squirm with all my might, desperate to be free, my left hand and right arm still throbbing painfully and my gut is aching and bruised.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Through my grunts of pain I hear the mention of my father. How he "begged for mercy" when Steel got his hands on him. Fucking liar.. fucking savage piece of shit liar.. or, was he? My dad was strong; the strongest man I ever knew. He wouldn't beg for mercy, but Steel was known for being particularly brutal and sadistic.. had he really broken my Dad so much that he begged?

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The thought should have angered me. I should have felt the red hot rage fill my cheeks and give me strength to get through this.. but it didn't. Instead, it scared me. If he could break my dad down into a blubbering mess.. what the fuck was he going to do with me? I squirm harder and faster as the panic builds.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "ARRGHHH!" I wince in pain as suddenly a sharp object cuts into my back. "WHAT THE FU--" I grimace as it occasionally slices into me. Fuck fuck fuck!! I start to accept my fate, knowing I don't have the ability or strength to get back from tbus. Steel has me. I won't beg. Oh, no I won't beg. No matter how much he tries to break me, I won't beg. I didn't even believe my own words as I forced them into my mind.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I hear Jack’s grunts and shouts of pain as my knife cuts off his bulletproof vest. I stand up, resheathing my knife. My face remains cold as ice, but my voice is mocking and derisive. “You are a fucking little piece of shit, Jack” I resheathe my knife, then I reach down and grab one edge of Jack’s bulletproof vest, torn down the middle, along with a bit of his torn, ripped undershirt.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: My hard, hairy arms surge and ripple with sadistic power as I heave Jack’s much lighter body up off the ground by the edge of his ripped and torn bullet proof vest, I hold him, suspended by my grip, continuing, “You are every bit as worthless and stupid as your fucking dad. Looks like stupidity is hereditary too. You bought that story of my man Peterson hook, line, and sinker, didn’t you?” I spit on Jack’s dangling body, “You thought you would be some kind of hero and revenge for your Dad? You? A hero? You pathetic, worthless, cock-brained, starry-eyed motherfucking piece of shit.”

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: With those words, I heave, and toss Jack like a sack of trash against the side of the carriage again, his ripped shirt and bulletproof vest tearing away, flinging Jack’s leanly muscled half naked body with extreme violence against the carriage. I catch sight of the brutal angle of his broken right forearm, the blood on his face, the cuts on his back, and the bloodied, bent fingers of his left hand. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. This was going to a very fun night. I had a bet with my man, Ivan, on how long it would take to break Jack like the pathetic, worthless spawn of Trent he was. I was going to win it too. There was a crate of top shelf vodka in it for me when I won.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I dangle in Steel's hold, my body a few feet from the ground as blood drips onto the cold rocks. I wince in pain and Steel spits, splattering across the back of my neck. Fucking gross.. this is humiliating. He mocks me, calls me pathetic. Suddenly I'm hoisted through the air, smashing again against the metal exterior of the train carriage. The pain punishes my back one again and I cry out.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The carriage is old and decrepit, it's metal casing twisted and distorted by age and rot. It creates edges, one of which I rest my elbow against to keep propped up, standing before Derek. My body feels cold, being licked by the wind and drizzly rain. It's exposed, Steel's brutal strength ripped off all my clothes. I moan and wince as he watches, and I know the sick fucker is enjoying it.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I refuse to be his little plaything. I have no way of winning this but I'm not letting him own me. My feet still work, and whilst still clinging onto the carriage with my elbow, currently being cut by the jagged metal edges, I boot Derek in the kneecap and spit at him. "Fuck you, Steel" I utter, knowing it will only piss him off but I don't care. I'll take the beating with pride whilst still having my spirit.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Jack slams into the carriage again, crumpling down, his bare torso exposed, the tattered, ripped remnants of his shirt and bulletproof vest dangling from my hand, to be dropped and discarded. My face remains expressionless as I approach Jack, who manages to hoist himself up, moaning and wincing beneath the pale light of the night, leaning against a jagged metal edge with his elbow.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Every sense is heightened, I’m still very much in combat mode, and although I’m enjoying this immensely, I know he is still dangerous. Even a rabbit can be dangerous when cornered, and whatever else Jack might be, he is no rabbit.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: He lashes out at my left knee with his boot. I smoothly pulled my left leg back, avoiding the kick, as he telegraphed the kick so loud in 1000 different little ways I saw it coming a mile away. With the same motion, my loaded right fist drives deeply towards the pit of his gut, with all the force and muscle I can bring to bear. I want to hurt this fucker. Hurt him deep and hurt him bad.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I knew the kick was pointless, even if it had connected it would have made absolutely no difference. I was just showing spunk, but Derek sidesteps out of the way like the professional he is and--

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "EUURGGHH!" I grunt as Derek's fist slams with devastating force into my gut, hitting so hard it felt like his fist was going to burst through my entire body. I fold into the punch, dislodging from the carriage as I double over. It winds me and hurts like absolute hell. I cough and splutter as my hands gently clasp Steel's forearm that looks as though it's protruding from my stomach.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "Fuuuckk!" I gasp for air, I've been punched in the gut many times, it was commonplace at the academy during combat class and endurance tests, but this.. this was something else. I raise my right hand to Derek's face, the broken forearm still throbbing and swollen, and claw. I jab at his eyes and mouth, turning my moans of pain into growls of anger.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: My eyes, cold and expressionless watch with sadistic satisfaction as Jack’s body folds up over my fist. His slender body is no match for the power I can deliver. I watch as Jack grunts and curses, reaching up his right hand in an attempt to claw my face.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Without missing a heart beat, I seize his right hand in my left fist, and brutally smash it backwards, slamming his broken forearm into the rusting, dilapidated side of the carriage. At the same time, I smash my right knee up directly into Jack’s fucking balls. While my knee is en route to Jack’s balls, my right fist comes in a powerful, brutal, short little hook, aimed directly at the side of Jack’s bloodied, bearded jaw.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: “Thanks to your stupidity Jack, I have a prime opportunity here. You are a real gold mine, do you know that? You are going to be worth approximately 30 million dollars to me tonight. Doesn’t that make you feel good? Knowing that you are going to do your part to help your father’s killer get ahead in the world?”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My right hand is seized and smashed back into the carriage. I roar in unbearable agony as my already broken arm bashes against the rough metal. "FUUU--" I start to scream, but his knee rises and smashes me right in the balls. My pained screams turn to a loud groan as I sink to my knees, unable to hold them due to my two destroyed hands.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: As soon as my knees hit the floor, Derek's boulder-like fist smashes into the left side of my jaw, interrupting my groans and causing me to see stars. My head jolts to the right viciously and my mouth fills with warm blood. It pools at my lips and drips down my chin, catching on the hairs before dripping down my chest and stomach. I tilt my head back and gaze up at Derek towering over me, my broken and bloodied shirtless body kneeling at his feet. Everywhere hurts now, my gut aches as my insides churn, the pain in my balls feels like it will take hours to subside, and my jaw throbs from the blow. More blood fills my mouth and I muster the strength to spit it up at Steel, saying nothing. I may be worth $40 million dollars to him, but refusing to be his begging bitch is priceless to me, for as long as I can keep it up.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I look down at Jack, watching as he sinks to his knees in agony, blood dripping out of his mouth, his balls brutally busted. He looks up at me, and the gaze of defiance in his determined young eyes fills me with a thrill of delight. I love it when my prey fights back. He hocks up a gob of spit and it splashes on my cheek, running down into my beard. My expression stays ice cold, as my tongue flicks out to lick up the blood. Then, for the first time, I grin. “That’s right Jack. Keep fighting. That’s what I like to see. Your dad fought too, before I broke him.”

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Then, I reach down with my right hand and grab a solid chunk of the red hair on the right side of his bruised jaw. Using nothing but my grip on the hair of his red, bloodstained beard, my bicep flexes, and I heave him up off his feet, then, I twist from the hips, and hurl him bodily by his beard, throwing him across the short distance into a stack of rusting iron rails beside the track. I realize as he goes tumbling across the space, that I’m holding a good chunk of his beard in my hand, dripping blood. It seems I don’t know my own strength, tossing him so hard I ripped a part of his beard out by the roots.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Keep fighting, he goads. I will, Steel. I will. He grabs a fistful of my beard hair and drags me up to my feet again. I scream out as the stinging pain of the hair pulling carries my entire weight behind it. I instinctively grab Derek's wrist as he lifts me, but my hands and arms throb in painful anger as I attempt to use them. "FUUUCKK!" I cry out, and then I'm sent hurling. As I leave Derek's grasp I feel a vicious ripping sensation along my jaw, followed by a sting of a thousand bees.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I start to roar in pain but I'm thrown at such a speed, I collide with the pile of iron rails before the sound comes out. They pummel against my entire body and knock the wind out of me. Warm, thick blood pools at my jaw where part of my beard used to be as I sink to the floor in a broken heap. Pain racks my entire body as I bleed all over the railyard ground. I hear Derek's footsteps approaching me from behind, but I can't muster the strength to move. My groans of pain blend in with the wind as I await more punishment. I gently roll onto my back, wincing as the cuts along my flesh collide with the dirt and pebbles. My feet and legs twitch softly against the ground as I softly writhe in agony, weak and suffering.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I slowly stalk over to where Trent’s stupid idiot of a son is writhing and moaning on the ground next to the pile of iron rails. I slowly circle around him, taking in the sight of his handsome face, marred by the missing chunk of his beard, covered in blood. Casually, I settle in, straddling his legs, our crotches nearly touching, my knees sinking to the ground beside his quads. I look down into his face as he moans and bleeds all over the rocky ground. I lift my fist, grinning slightly,

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: “Now, listen up Jack. You and I are going to have a very friendly little chat.” My right fist slams down like a sledgehammer deep into Jack’s bruised abs, drilling in to a sickening depth. “You see, you were really stupid. You knew better than to run off half-cocked to try and kill me.” My left fist slams down, after my right, slamming like a boulder, propelled by the hard, hairy power of my thick, heavily muscled arms, right into those abs again. “You knew you were breaking a fucking shit ton of rules. Rules that are there for a reason. Rules meant to keep fuckers like me from getting their hands on idiots like you.”

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: My right fist, recocked, drives down into those fucked up abs, sinking even deeper this time around. “And those bastards who run the CSIS, Jeff Rogers and the Director and all those other fucktards were right. But thanks to the fact that you are such a shitty agent, something to be expected of Trent’s son, to be honest, I’m in the money. Cause, you see, you are gonna tell me what your credentials are for your CSIS account, aren’t you? Cause, you see, if you don’t..” My left fist takes position, and smashes down, twisting at the end with a little jerk, once more breaking the record of how deep I can sink my fists into this asshole’s abs. “..I’m going to keep you alive. You think that’s a good thing, but it’s not Jack. Because while you are alive, you are going to hurt and suffer more than you ever imagined possible. Your only way to make it stop will be to tell me what I want to know.”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Derek mounts me and I immediately know there's no escape. My already battered body is completely at his disposal, and my pain is far from over. He towers over me like fucking Godzilla with a menacing look in his eye. He speaks to me, a sadistic tone stabbing through his words. His first punch pummels into my gut.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "UNNNFF--" I grunt. It hits fucking hard and I briefly fold into the blow, my head leaving the floor before falling heavily back against the ground. More talking, more playing with his pray like a cat batting a mouse around. "UNNNFF--" I grunt again as the second punch sinks deep into my guts, followed by a third muscle-crunching pound that digs even deeper than the previous blows.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: My groans are loud, long and guttural as my bare abdomen takes a savage beating. As I cough and splutter, Steel speaks once more and a sickening feeling churns inside my stomach as I reach an awful realisation. This isn't just a brutal beating, a prelude to getting my throat slit.. it's torture. I have something that he wants and he's going to beat the living shit out of me until he gets it.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "UUNNFFF!!!" I groan louder than ever as Derek's fourth barbaric punch clobbers my guts, hitting deeper than ever before. I cough as the air inside my body is forced back up my throat, but each cough causes my abs to throb. My breathing is laboured and I can only speak between moans.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: "I'll never--" I pant. "--tell you--" I catch more breath. "Anything.."

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I grin, “You know Jack, your dad said the same thing. At first.” I raise up, standing over you. Then, casually, I drop down to one knee, spearing that knee, with all 220 pounds of heavy, deadly muscle behind it, deep into the pit of your tortured guts. My right fist is cocked and ready, as you inevitably jacknife up, my fist slams down, bashing into the right side of your jaw like a sledgehammer.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Then, casually, I stand up again, looking down at the writhing, bleeding, gasping, suffering brat of Trents, laying there thinking he is tough enough to resist me. I speak up, “Let’s conduct a little experiment Jack. Let’s find out how many knee drops it takes before you pass out like a little pathetic wuss. Along the way, we will learn so many fun facts, like will you puke first? And when you do pass out, will you pass out from the pain? Or from lack of breath?” Then, I drop down again, driving my knee like a heavyweight spear of destruction deep into those busted, fucked up abs.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Derek stands and I feel a sense of relief, hoping he'll trail off into some ridiculous monologue to give me a break from the pain. Nothing in this world could hurt my gut more than his enormous fists, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Following that thought, Steel proves me wrong as he plummets his knee, full weight behind it, straight into my battered gut.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The noise I make is barely even human. It's a sudden grunt in response to the explosion of pain, followed by a deep and strained groan that catches in my throat as I cough and choke. My body bends into the blow as I fold in on myself, my head and chest jolting forward. Steel's giant fist greets my jaw as I rise and forces me me back down to the floor with cruel force. Blood spurts from my mouth as I catapult back down, my head and upper back smashing against the rocky ground.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I'm dazed, hearing Derek's words but barely able to listen as the world spins around me. Another knee rams into my gut, forcing the awful noise to escape my body once more. I cough and groan, my body unable to take any more punishment. Fuck.. it hurts so fucking bad. He's got me right where wants me. My credentials, I'll never give them up.. but doing so will free me from this pain. My guts stir and churn, getting more and more damaged as they're pounded into oblivion. I can take this.. I'll take a thousand more knees to protect the CSIS and my reputation.. I think.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: I walk around Jack, looking down at his writhing body. “How about we make our little experiment… more interesting..” With my heavy boot, I nudge the gasping, suffering body of Trent’s stupid son up against the side of the pile of stacked iron rails. I pull my boot back, then with a vicious, brutal force, I drive my heavy, steel tipped boot directly into his left hand ribs, with a savage CRUNCH. Then, just to make sure I’ve broken them good and proper, I draw my boot back, and drive the steel toe of my heavy combat boot right into those ribs again, CRUNCHHHH.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Then, I drop down, driving my knee deep into his bruised and savagely abused guts again, this time the pain and agony of the impact will be multiplied many times over by his broken ribs. “Let’s see how adding some broken ribs into the equation modifies the subject’s reactions, shall we?”

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The steel-capped boots savagely crunch and destroy my ribs. I scream so loud that my throat hurts from the pressure. As I scream, the other side of my ribs are broken too. Tears form in my eyes as Derek smashes me into a thousand pieces under his heavy boot, at least that's what it feels like. The pain is so intense and spread across my entire body.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: Then, he drops the knee once more and the pain is too much to bear. Blood spit and fluids from deep into my gut gush out of my mouth. I quickly turn my head to the side so that I don't choke on it. My blood, sweat, spit, bile and tears paint the rocky ground underneath my head. Everything hurts so fucking much, and Derek's outline becomes blurred and wobbly. Am I dying? It feels like I'm fucking dying. I'm on the verge of passing out at least, my ribs shattered like glass and gut so bruised it feels like a hole has been punctured into it. The pain.. it's fucking unreal.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Clinically, as I keep my knee pinned into Jack’s shattered guts, I watch with interest as blood and bile gush out of his mouth. I nod. Some nice internal injuries there. That will make the rest of my job easier. He needs one more piece de resistance, though… Hmmm…. I raise my fist again, and smash it down like a heavy sledgehammer to “Jack” his jaw, ready to keep beating Jack’s face in until he drops unconscious.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The punch sends a vicious crack across my jaw and blood sprays from my mouth. The world around me falls darker and my legs kick out after the impact. My whole face throbs after the blow. Every inch of my body pulsates in agony with each staggered breath. I vaguely make out the shape of Derek above me, ready to pound at my face again. I'm barely clinging on to consciousness as it is, and a part of me knows that after the next punch the world will go black.

10:25 AgentDerekSteel: Keeping my knee buried deep in Jack’s guts, I slowly lower myself down on top of his bare, broken, bruised and battered body. I rub my left hand up along his side as my knee grinds into his shattered guts, feeling the irregular lumps and dark bruising from his broken ribs. Then, I lower myself so my head is right beside Jack’s savagely battered face, and whisper in his ear. “I’m going to let you get a bit of sleep, but when you wake up Jack, it will be in a nightmare.” I lift my head up again, grinning, as my heavy right fist smashes down once more, bashing into Jack’s jaw with a final sickening crunch.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: The knee feels as though it's sinking deeper into my guts the longer Derek holds it there, and the pain is absolutely unbearable. I feel him slither closer to my face like the snake he is, and whisper in my time that it's "night-night" time.

10:25 Agent_Jack_Young: I groan in protest, the only noise I can possibly make whilst in this pain. I make the shape of his fist, poised to deliver the final blow, and then everything cuts out. The pain, the light, the fear. It's all gone.

Published: 2021-03-18, viewed 70 times.