Ab Antiquo

(Repost from the old Ab Antiquo. The colored text are Reizvolles' posts and, as such, the words and content attributed to this post belong to the writer/player of Reizvolles.)




"Wakey-wakey, princess. Rise 'n shine."

Helvetica heard the words through the pounding between her ears, which worsened when thick fingers slapped at her cheek. She blinked blearily at a fox mask hovering inches from her face and sneered.

"What...?" It was the start of a slew of questions: What's going on? Where am I? Who are you? But the words didn't come out. Instead, she groaned and picked her head up from her shoulder. It felt like all the blood in her body had gathered there to pack on a few pounds for the task. Worst hangover ever.

After a moment, the fox face disappeared and was replaced with an orb of light. She hissed and turned away from it, blinded and further disoriented. With another groan, she resisted the urge to puke.

"Associate Justice, Rodney Storm." Helvetica forced her eyes open upon hearing her father's name and realized the voice that said it was deep and distorted in an uncanny way, like a machine. "You have exactly forty-eight hours to wire money to the disclosed account."

As the light's intensity waned, she recognized the camera lens and tripod. It was at the exact moment she felt cold metal pressed to her temple that she realized what was going on.

"Fail to comply, and I decorate the walls with your daughter's brains."




"Goddammit!" LAPD Chief David Nelson slammed the file he'd been gripping onto the desk of a startled officer who tore her eyes from one of the TV screens mounted on one side of the pillar at the center of the room. Chief Nelson nearly spat out his chewing gum when he continued, face sweaty and red with bulging veins creeping down from his receding hairline. "Who released the footage to the press?"

"Wasn't us!" an officer hastened to say when the Chief's laser-like gaze cut in his direction.

Another was quick to provide an answer that wouldn't get them all slammed with desk duty. "We think it was the perps, sir. A tactic to put pressure on the Associate Justice to comply. We have reason to believe they might try a live stunt when the clock starts to run out."

"Goddammit!" Chief Nelson swore again, and his scowl disappeared beneath the thick, red, bush of hair covering his upper lip. "Any reason why a band of thugs wearing animal masks kidnapped the daughter of an Associate Justice?"

"Revenge, Chief?"

"That was a rhetorical question, Larson! Do you even know who Associate Justice Rodney Storm is? He's overseen more high level criminal cases than we get in this dump! He's put away more big bads than the Scooby Gang stumbled across! When people talk about law and order, they're talking about Associate Justice Storm!"

A few officers exchanged glances as if to find out if they were the only ones hearing the note of admiration in the Chief's voice or if the Associate Justice was just that good at his job.

"I wouldn't have a job if I didn't know a man like that makes a lot of dangerous enemies. What I want to know is who's behind this and where they've taken the girl."

The same officer who suggested the live stunt stepped forward. "Sir, my guess is Alonzo Velazquez."

Chief Nelson's bushy brows gathered menacingly between his eyes. "What's your name, officer?"

She straightened her back when she answered. "Tamika Jordan, sir."

He stabbed a finger in her direction. "I like you, Jordan! For any of you not quick enough on the draw, Alonzo Velazquez is Julio Velazquez's little brother. As all of you should know, Julio Velazquez went down on a life sentence for one of the biggest trafficking rings on this side of the Pacific. Drugs, weapons, people, you name it. If there was a market for it, Velazquez was supplying. Hundred bucks to anyone who can guess what judge gave the sentencing."

"Justice Storm?"

"Do you not understand what rhetorical means, Anderson? I want warrants, people! Find Velazquez and find the girl! We've got less than thirty-four hours! Let's go!"

"I told you, I need the largest supply that you've got," Reizvolles demanded. There was a shake of his head and before any protest could be heard from the opposite line, he ended the call. He tossed his cell onto the couch, emitted a grumble of frustration, then went to the kitchen for a drink. Days like this reminded him why he often dealt with the black market when he needed rushed orders. If one went through the proper channels, no matter how powerful they were, it would take at least ten times longer than going to a direct dealer.

He popped precisely three ice cubes into a glass and poured the amber liquid to the brim. As he did so, his phone rang for the umpteenth time that day and cobalt blues went skyrocketing in an over dramatic roll. If he had to deal with another incompetent businessman again today, he would surely flip a lid. He shot back nearly half his glass of whiskey, set it aside for later, then made his way back to his phone.

The screen read simply AV. His shoulders relaxed as he answered, glad to hear from someone he considered a true professional. After the irritation he experienced the past few months in trying to get his supplies in order, he would never go through the regulated paths again. It simply was not worth it. He released an exasperated sigh and answered, "How do you always know when I need you, Velazquez?"






The jet arrived in the middle of the night, just outside the warehouse as planned. Reizvolles pushed the sleeve of his suit up and glanced at the stainless steel Burberry watch on his left wrist. He was early, as usual. Punctuality was all part of politics and he was no amateur. He rose from his seat and made his way out of the plane. Just then, a runt of a man came rushing up to the docked stairs and was frantically mumbling greeting after greeting, bowing his head as if he was welcoming royalty, and while he was, Nikolai never really enjoyed the fawning.

He waved a hand dismissively, then gestured to the side entrance. "That is all good and well, but I need to see Alonzo," he said abruptly, turning his sapphire gaze on the man he towered over. He bore into the diminutive human, silently demanding that he be taken inside post haste. There was no time to squander, he reminded him.

The man, who had introduced himself as Mateo, nodded and obediently led the reticent Russian through the door at the side of the building, quick to walk him past a stock pile of wooden crates, while taking the most direct route to his boss's 'office'. He knew better than to speak up too much, but there was a hidden concern as he made his way through the warehouse - he knew Alonzo was going to be gone for the next few hours, but how was he supposed to bring that up to the insistent guest?

In the meantime, Reiz instinctively inspected every bit of his surroundings. While he could appreciate the Velazquez corporation, he knew better than to fully trust it. He made mental note of each and every potential exit as he traveled through the building, also taking inventory on the labeled crates. There was more than plenty for what he intended, and as usual, he was impressed by the organization.

Mateo took them through the double doors in the back, but instantly regretted his decision. His eyes shot to the door on the left-hand side that had been left cracked, his gut overtaken by distress. Within was a young woman tied to a chair in the corner of the room. Even if she was not coherent, he belatedly remembered the direct orders to not enter the back room without a mask. How he forgot was beyond him, but he felt immediate dread. He would be losing his job tonight - or worse.

His feet carried him to the door to promptly shut it, but the damage was done. Niko had seen the girl and had already made a decision. He wanted her. No amount of negotiation would change his mind. Whoever that mystery girl was - regardless of the price - she would be his, if only to get her out of Velazquez's possession. Regardless of his association with the family, he knew this was no place for someone like her and he was determined to see her out of it.

_______________________________________________

As time went by, Helvetica's head began to clear enough to properly take in her surroundings. She checked her wrists and ankles to see that she was indeed zip-tied to a steel chair, which had already made her ass numb and her lower back begin to ache. She wasn't sure of the time, but she was sure she'd been sitting for hours, and if she remembered correctly, her life had a forty-eight hour time limit attached to it. A phantom chill of cold metal pressed to her temple haunted her with a subtle reminder that forty-eight hours would soon be up. She'd like to think her father would pay the ransom, but she knew he didn't negotiate with terrorists, and that's who these men were -- terrorists. With a mounting dread she concealed well beneath the grim line of her mouth, she realized that if she was to survive this ordeal, she'd have to save herself.

"Hey," was the first word she'd said in hours to the only other person in the room. "Dog." He was a stocky man who sat in the corner watching her through the black eyes of his dog mask. Donning a black jumpsuit with matching work boots and gloves, she couldn't even determine his race. She only assumed he was male due to his size, to be honest. She hoped she was right in assuming his proclivities as well.

"I have to pee," she told him, and he simply stared at her in response.

"Are you really going to let me sit here and pee myself? This is a three hundred dollar dress."

Nothing. Just the blank, soulless stare.

"Not to mention that it'll start to smell something interesting the longer I stew. There are no windows in this steel box and no amount of Febreze is going to save you. I get the feeling you and I will be spending a lot of time together, so do yourself a favor and show me to your nearest toilet."

Dog stared at her for a moment and she honestly contemplated peeing all over the chair and floor just to get her point across, though it wouldn't do her any good. She'd not only be tied to the chair, but she'd also smell like a truck stop in the boonies. There would also be a rash, no doubt.

Before she could commit to one decision or another, Dog stood with a gruff sigh and she made sure to blink up at him with round, grateful hazel green eyes. "Thank you, kind sir. I've been holding it in for ages."

Dog didn't seem impressed as he flicked open a pocket knife. The gleam of the blade caught her eye as he reached down to cut the ties from around her ankles. She kept still as he did the same for each wrist, but the face of his mask was turned to her the entire time. A tendril of unease crept up her spine as she stared back into those matte black eyes. Even the cartoon tongue hanging from Dog's plastic mouth didn't detract from how creepy he was.

With a firm grip on her arm, he yanked her up and turned her toward the only door in the room. She stumbled a bit on pumps far too high for an impromptu kidnapping and felt rope curl around her wrists, then tighten to bring them together with enough force to make her wince. After reclaiming his grip on her arm, he yanked her toward the door and she felt anticipation race through her veins and steady her every step, turning her stumble into a march. Dog pulled the door open and peeked out first before pulling her out into a hallway laid with gray carpet, walls bare and blaring beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting.

Helvetica blinked and her head throbbed mutinously, but she marched after Dog as he pulled her along just a few doors down. Just as she expected, Dog pushed the door open, shoved her inside of a single co-bathroom, stepped inside after her, and shut the door. He folded his large arms over his chest and stared his creepy stare at her and she blinked back at him very slowly.

"I like to think I'm a very skilled and handy girl in most cases, but I've never mastered the art of getting my undies down to pee with my hands tied behind my back." She tipped one blond brow at him. "If you'd be so kind to give me a hand, my bladder and I would greatly appreciate it."

The way Dog's head tipped back, Helvetica could almost feel his eyes roll. However, just as she expected, he stepped forward, hunched down, and let his gloved hands creep up beneath the short hem of her cocktail dress. The fabric gathered around his wrists as he went, taking his time getting a few digits beneath lacy boyshorts. Like when he was cutting her from the chair, the face of the mask was turned to her and he remained the creepiest dog who ever panted at her.

She didn't give him a chance to get further. Instead of standing still like a good girl as he undressed her, she slammed her knee into where she assumed his nose to be. Crouched down as he was, he fell backwards flat on his back, hands cupping his face beneath the mask. While he was stunned, Helvetica brought one of her pumps down onto his crotch with full force and Dog shouted at a pitch that she'd never heard from a man his size. He rolled over, hands trapped between his clenched thighs, blood smeared at the bottom of his mask. It took some maneuvering, what with her knee on his back, but she managed to slip the knife out of his pocket and use it to cut the rope from her wrists.

"Thank you, sir, for your cooperation," she said. Then she curled a tight fist like she was taught to and slammed it into his face with enough force and at an angle that put him out. Quickly, she slipped off her heels, stood, pressed a hand over her dress to smooth it back down over her thighs, then she stepped over his prone body. After peeking through the crack of the door, she slipped out to make her escape.




Alonzo Velazquez sat at a large, dark wood desk across from Reizvolles with his lips wrapped around a cigar. The rings on his fingers glinted when he reached up to take hold of it, his chair leaning back with his weight when he did. He looked at the Russian through wisps of smoke, eyes amber and always suspicious of the people caught in their gaze.

"Reizvolles," said Alonzo, his Cuban accent only a remnant, nearly non-existent after spending his life traveling and moving product across the globe. "You've caught us at a very busy time. I'm sure you've heard about Julio. But since you're such a loyal customer, I figured I can help you out during these trying times." He widened his stance and looked the man square in the eye. "So, what can I do for you?"

Somehow Mateo had managed to ‘entertain’ Reiz long enough for Alonzo to return, but not without frustrating him in the process. Two hours was two hours too long in his mind, particularly after flying in from Novgorod. The two had settled in the makeshift lobby of AV’s office and the suit-clad Russian had sat in waiting with a calculating, icy look on the door. Nevermind the fact that he had arrived early.

Finally, after Mateo had offered everything but his unborn first child, Alonzo appeared in the doorway. He stepped in and turned that brilliant amber gaze immediately on his guest. “It seems I underestimated how early you would show. I should have known, though. Julio always told me how prompt you are.”

Nikolai stood to level himself with the Cuban and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, as if he had not nearly made his greeter shit his pants while waiting. Suddenly while watching how calmly and casually the man responded, Mateo felt ridiculous for overreacting. His nerves did not cease, however, since he was unable to forget that Helvetica’s room had been discovered.

“Businessmen should always be early. You never know when a better negotiation could arise,” was Reiz’s explanation.

Alonzo extended his hand out and met him in a firm handshake that lead to a brief embrace. As they parted again, both men glanced at Mateo and he took their looks as permission to skidaddle. And skidaddle he did. There had been no mention of the girl and he had begun to hope his job - and life - were secure now.






"So, what can I do for you?" AV asked, eyebrows lifting with curiosity. Their meeting had been called last minute, which was extremely abnormal for the Russian. It left Alonzo intrigued. It was the only reason he agreed to the meeting and was willing to help, considering the situation the business was in at the moment.

Niko released an exasperated breath through flared nostrils and settled his right ankle atop his left knee. There was a bounce of that top leg, pent up energy working its way out in the only way it could find. He pursed his lips, then began to elaborate vaguely, “I need the largest supply you can gather. I have something going on at home that needs to be dealt with. I am sure you can understand.”

His explanation ended as enthusiastically as it began, concluding with a cough to clear his throat. Alonzo was nodding all along because he naturally did understand. Their conversations were often curt and lacking details - it was the nature of the beast. If details were not verbalized, there was nothing to be traced or recorded.

“I can get it delivered by Wednesday at the earliest, but this is going to cost you a pretty penny, Reizvolles.”

The businessman’s hand rose to cut off his dealer’s words, then extended again which resulted in their second firm shake of the night.

“You know money has never been a matter of concern, but I do have one other request.”

Alonzo’s vision narrowed as he awaited the second transaction.

“I want the girl.”


_______________________________________________

Alonzo stared into Reizvolles for a moment drawn out with tension and unspoken judgment. Then, he suddenly laughed big and booming, flashing two pearly rows with eyes glimmering in the light. He looked young, then. Too young to lead a criminal organization.

"You have good taste, my friend. If it's girls you want, I can get you the very best. Except her. That little piece is mine." All traces of laughter evaporated from his face as did his amicable tone. What was left was a stony faced young man that would brook no argument. It was clear in his eyes that the girl would only be parted from his cold, dead hands, and he dared Reizvolles to try.

Before Alonzo was to officially discover if the Russian was friend or foe, the door to his office swung open without a prior knock and a large man lumbered in without announcement. It was nothing but unspoken urgency and it snatched Alonzo's attention away from Reiz so he would stop and listen when the man tipped his head to his ear. Alonzo's tanned face went from stone to storm in a matter of seconds. His lips were drawn tight over his teeth when he spoke.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Reizvolles," he said while he made his way to the door. "Please, escort our guest out," was nearly lost when he walked out and disappeared around the door frame and into the hallway. The large man's bulldog face was tense, his dark eyes clouded with distracted thoughts when they shifted to the Russian.

"Follow me," he said, and his bulk led the way through the door, turning in the opposite direction Alonzo rushed off to.




After going back to pat down Dog for his cellphone (and finding nothing), she snuck back to the room she was held in and found a sleek, black phone sitting on the table behind the camera. She snatched it up, but caught herself staring at the chair in the center of the empty room, perfectly in frame for the video camera. For a moment, she felt outside of herself, looking at a girl tied to a chair, head lolling dumbly as the camera rolled to record a message to her father. She hadn't even looked distressed, but drunk, high, helpless, and useless. She didn't even know where she was. Teeth clenched, she was hard pressed to find out.

But first, she had to get out of this room before someone stopped by and found her where she most definitely did not belong.




"People don't just disappear," Chief Nelson boomed from the center of the pit of the police station. He was chewing through a bag of sunflower seeds, which he did when he was stressed.

"Don't people disappear all the time, sir?"

"Holy fucking Mary, mother of Christ, Goldbloom. One more word out of you and you'll be writing parking tickets until you retire."

The officer whose name the Chief could never remember, which always changed when spoken to, shut his mouth so fast his teeth clacked.

"To answer your dumbass question," Chief Nelson continued from where he stood, leaning against a desk in front of the investigation board, which was covered with so many photos and files that the actual board underneath could no longer be seen. It was just Velazquez, his associates, and his victims. At the center of it all was Helvetica Storm, smiling in a photo pulled from her social media page.

The Chief pointed to the photo, his bushy, red mustache drooping in a snarl around his mouth. "People go missing all the time. Kids, fiends, hookers, and crazy people. Constantly. But people like her don't disappear off the map. She's somewhere out there, and the only way to find her is to find Velazquez."

"Sir, I've been looking at Velazquez's most recent activity, and I may have triangulated a possible location," said Officer Jordan. She was up at the investigation board, pinning a map over the faces of Velazquez's buddies. She didn't even wait for the Chief to respond as she picked up a marker and began drawing lines and circles over the map.

"Velazquez may work globally, but he still has points of operation whenever he's in a region. While these locations change whenever he jets out of town, he still shows his hand whenever he's seen somewhere more than twice." She stabbed the marker at a spot of land within an aggressively looped, thick, black circle. "Local authorities have spotted him in this city more than a handful of times in the past month alone. I'd bet any money that he's there."

Chief Nelson squinted at the circled point on the map and grunted. "What the hell is Ravenblack City? Trust a felon to squirrel away to some unknown shit stain on the map."

"Sir!"

"What did I tell you, Henderson? You'll be writing tickets for powered chairs in the nursing home before you know it."

"No, sir! It's the girl. She's on the phone."

The Chief's eyes grew big and round like blueberries and everyone scrambled to the station operator's desk. He was a round man squeezed into his desk and chair with a mess of tech sitting before him. The main piece of technology was the computer whose screen was streaming a single line wiggling to the sound of Helvetica's voice.

"I need to talk to the chief," she said, her voice tinny over the line.

The Chief took the phone from the operator's hands, pressed it to his ear, and spat out, "Speaking. Where the hell are you?"

"Is my father there?"

Everyone exchanged glances. The Associate Justice had spent many unnecessary hours at the station, angry, stressed, and in the way until Chief Nelson told him to go so he could be angry and stressed at home and out of the way.

"Someone's contacting him now," the Chief supplied. "He's on his way. I need you to tell me where you are, Miss Storm. Right now."

It took a moment before her voice was heard from the speakers again. "I think it's a warehouse. I was tied to a chair in an empty room up until now, so I haven't exactly gotten the grand tour."

"Never mind that," Chief Nelson snapped. He spat sunflower seed shells into the trash bin next to the operator's desk and tried to blunt a few of the edges of his next words. "Do you hear anything or see anything interesting? Anything is helpful at this point. Anything that can help us pinpoint exactly where you are."

"Difficult thing to accomplish from inside of a closet."

The Chief growled, frustrated. "Miss Storm--"

"I think I hear footsteps." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I think they're looking for me."

"Look. Stay calm and stay hidden. We have an idea of where you are. We're on our way."

"I think someone is coming."

"Miss Storm..."

"..."

"Miss--" Gunshots exploded through the speakers, followed by footsteps, rustling, then silence as the line went dead. Chief Nelson stared at the phone like it held all the secrets to life and Officer Jordan pointed to the computer screen.

"We have her, sir." The point on the map pulsed green beneath her finger over the location of a warehouse in Ravenblack City's industrial district.

The Chief slammed the phone down and gestured to everyone clustered around the operator's desk. "Let's go, people! We have a plane to catch!"




Helvetica stared at the holes in the wall next to the door of the closet she was just dragged from. Warning shots, not to threaten, but to promise. The man with the smoking gun was Alonzo Velazquez, who had two guns harnessed beneath his suit jacket and others secreted away on his person. He looked at Helvetica down the length of the barrel of the gun with the kind of detached interest a child has when burning ants under the sun.

"Where do you think you're going, chica? There's still twenty four hours on the clock and papi juez hasn't paid his tab yet."

Helvetica ripped her eyes from the holes in the wall to stare at Alonzo who was flanked by yesmen in expensive suits and bling, flashing shiny new guns at their hips. Arms like steel bars were restraining her against a brick wall of a man, but she tipped her chin up like she stood looking at them from the judge's seat in court.

"If that's the case, you should kill me now and save yourself the trouble."

Reizvolles returned the stare, though it was apparent that he was far less tense than the man in front of him. He never bothered to let the stare-downs get to him; they weren’t worth it. The laugh that broke their unspoken contest put a quirk in his lips - a faint smirk, even. AV’s response and stoic expression which followed did not catch him off guard for even a second. The girl was special, obviously, but the glint in Alonzo’s eyes only challenged him further. He would have her. There was no doubt about that.

Before he could verbalize his determination, there was a burst through the door and fleeting chaos that one might have missed had they blinked. The alarm-turned-anger that contorted Alonzo’s young face gave the Russian a clear idea as to what had happened and why the man was so eager to share the news. She really was special, he ascertained, and that fueled his fire.

He stood when Alonzo stood, but did not go in for a shake this time. It would have been pointless, really, and his mind was already focused on how he was going to find the now rogue Helvetica. An icy gaze trailed the man’s movements as he rushed through the door and out of sight, which left him with a giant of a man who attempted to usher him on. Reluctantly and yet obediently, he followed behind him, silent as a grave.

Reiz was led to the complete opposite side of the warehouse, which allowed him to evaluate his location better. His silence seemed welcomed by the man who guided him, and he was sure by the grunting and grumbling he was doing that, just like Mateo, this employee was concerned for his job. What he did not consider was that the end of his career was the least of his worries.

That was a common flaw among the Velazquez company, it seemed. The corporation had grown extremely successful in a rather short amount of time, which had resulted in a lot of black market businessmen on their knees because most other dealers had closed shop. The success and power had gone to their heads, as a whole, however, making them feel invincible. All the way down to the little man, including this particular man.

Quickly the large man with the bulldog face would learn just how impotent he really was. There was no time for protest because his throat had been slit from behind before he could blink, but Reiz covered his mouth for insurance. That dark, clouded stare scrutinized the man who suddenly ripped his life from his colossal frame, but the Rus’ didn’t even blink. Instead he watched as the blood seeped from a precise cut in mass amounts and laid the unnamed man down, hidden by a set of ginormous crates.






There were quite a few more men along his way through the warehouse that sealed their fates by making eye contact. They, too, ended up permanently silenced behind the various containers throughout the building. He left a collection of them piled in a corner together, then slinked toward the direction in which he saw Alonzo disappear.

As he slipped between two crates, an explosion of gunshots sounded, ringing in echoes loud enough that people miles away could likely hear. Reiz considered for a millisecond that his newfound mission had been foiled, but then came to his senses and realized that whoever this girl was, she was too important to be killed needlessly.

The remainder of Alonzo’s men were running towards the source of the commotion and Niko trailed behind cautiously, ensuring he was unseen. Once they all gathered in the room and he had a better line of vision, he began to devise a plan. There were six men, seven in total if he counted AV. With the men surrounding both Alonzo and Helvetica, there was no way he was coming out of this unnoticed.

It was a ‘No Balls, No Glory’ type of situation. If he wanted to get the girl, he would have to work for her. Nikolai stood straight and stepped just within the threshold of the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. His glacial eyes momentarily met with Helvetica’s and he managed to press an index finger against his lips before any of the masked goons discovered him.

At this moment, they were all so focused on what their boss had to say that they were doltishly unaware of their surroundings. Their concentration would last just long enough for him to slide up behind the two that were the most unsuspecting, and before he could be stopped, they joined the rest of their cohorts in a silent, bloody death. Unlike before, Reiz let their bodies drop in a less than conspicuous manner.

The syncopated thud resonated plangently enough to draw the attention of three of the remaining four yesmen, who hurriedly drew their guns on the taciturn Russian. He stood there, unwavering, over the dead bodies, and his sheer look dared and almost welcomed them to shoot. They were trained, though - nearly brainwashed, one could argue - not to attack without command.

Reiz knew it. He fed off it.

His arms opened, baiting the men to strike, and then he spoke, “I told Alonzo already, and I will only repeat this once: I want the girl.”


_______________________________________________

Guns were drawn and pointed at the Russian who Helvetica stared at from the clutches of the human wall. She held herself stiffly as she became aware of the fact that some else was out to get her. Why? Who is he? These questions made her tongue ache as she pressed the muscle against her teeth with the effort to keep quiet. Not yet. This wasn't the time. But when would the time come? When she's shoved into the trunk of this guy's car? When she's stripped of her identity and her senses, drooling onto cheap bedding in a hotel in Eurasia with track marks on her arms? Velazquez was the devil she knew. This guy was an unknown threat. Her capture seemed to agree with half of that.

"I extend my services to you during this time, and this is how you repay me?" said Alonzo with a heat that made his Cuban accent prominent. "Light 'im up!"

The first bullet sent flying was from Alonzo's piece and Helvetica tensed as a hailstorm of bullets followed to pelt the Russian to death. She felt the grip on her body release, and she moved to run from the lot of them and find an exit, but she was yanked back against Alonzo himself. Something hard and warm was pressed to her ribs, then she heard a click.

"Don't be stupid, Velazquez," she said to him over her shoulder. "Shoot me and you don't get a red cent."

The gun was shoved harder into her ribs and she hissed as he curled a fist into her long, blond hair and tugged hard, straining her neck. She tipped her chin up defiantly, even though the man growled into her ear with hot, moist breath.

"I should kill you now and save myself the trouble. Right? Isn't that what you said? Not bad advice, I think."

"Is this because of your friend?" she asked as her eyes darted across the scene before her. Bullets, blood, and chaos. And here she was a prize. Something about that made her scowl. The vehemence that burned in her gut was almost startling.

"He's no friend of mine," Alonzo gritted out before he shouted, "Stop, or all you get is a pretty little corpse. Unless that's your thing. Then, she's gonna come at a price." The crazed gleam in the Cuban's eyes revealed that he was hellbent on getting his money one way or another. Poetic irony in holding the daughter of the judge who convicted his brother hostage be damned.

There was an overt combination of confusion and curiosity that was scripted all over Helvetica’s face when Reizvolles revealed himself. The thoughts she had had yet to verbalize were valid, but timing was key. He would answer any and all questions she had - in due time. For now, however, he would remain that unknown threat that sent her mind racing.

Before he could utter a single syllable, there was a barrage of bullets coming his way. Words and negotiations were over at this point. He was fast and agile; always had been, even as a human, but some of the bullets were quicker. Many zipped by as he ducked, rolled, and swayed to avoid them, but one in particular landed just outside his heart and a second lodged itself within his left shoulder.

The yesmen, and even Alonzo, looked pleased as he fell to the ground, but the corporation had not done their best research. They had no idea what type of man they had welcomed into their midsts. Niko rose again, obviously more determined than before, and seemingly stronger. There was an air about him as he stood that, at first glance, made him look like he had grown in size. What followed left the men in a state of shock.

At first there was a bit of surprise that overtook them, but it soon was replaced with alarm as the Russian changed shape right before their very eyes. There was resounding snaps, pops, and cracks as bones and muscles worked to rearrange, setting into a new form. What was once a quiet, reserved businessman was replaced with an enormous, menacing hybrid whose eyes burned with intense avidity.

More shots were fired when the lycanthrope lunged forward, but the bullets were taken like mere scratches. Reiz towered over the men now, thrashing limbs violently as he approached a set of two. He swiped at them, even as they shot in point-blank range, and sent one flying towards the right wall, while the other was thrown into the left corner. On impact, both men were dead.

The sight of Reiz’s new form was terrifying enough, but watching their compatriots be killed in the blink of an eye sent the remaining two goons running out of the room to save their own hides. Alonzo was too busy threatening Helvetica, however, to notice that the men had left him behind, all on his own. He was confident, still, even as he looked up and was face-forward with the colossal lycan.

He stared the Cuban down, gruffing with frustration at their current predicament. Ultimately AV knew that he wouldn’t make a move because he was known to be a man of his word. The last thing he wanted was for her to die because he made a rash decision, and Alonzo knew that. It was obvious by the smug grin on his face, and the wince on Helvetica’s from the pressure of the piece that was digging into her side. Nikolai stood firm, arms crossing over his broad chest. With narrowed eyes, the hybrid focused into the man’s mind, “Fine. How much do you want for her?”


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Alonzo kept the gun pressed to the girl as the beast tore itself from the Russian before his very eyes. His grip on Helvetica, however, had loosened in his state of terrified awe, but the girl didn't move, sharing his sentiment.

"You drugged me," she accused the man in an almost absent voice, eyes wide to take in the impossible creature that made quick work of Alonzo's men. "What did you give me?"

"Shut up," Alonzo snapped and his jaw tensed and he yanked her arm to draw her closer, shielding himself from the creature as it approached. "Don't come any closer, diablo." However, that was the extent of the demands he could make, and he knew it. Helvetica knew it. In both their minds, they were going to die tonight.

Then, Alonzo's eyes widened and he said, "The asking price is 10 million and not a penny less."

"Fuck you," Helvetica said to him through clenched teeth, and he muttered darkly in her ear:

"Fair and free trade, chica."

There was an instant shift in the air when Alonzo realized just what he was dealing with. He learned in that moment why his brother had been so accommodating to the man who was drastically different than majority of their customers. It wasn’t because they were particularly close. No. It was because he was afraid for his life. That was made clear when Reiz had shifted into the beast that stood before him.

His initial hesitation to move dissipated, but he didn’t lunge. He took a few steps forward, the sound of claw clad feet booming and echoing through the hollowed room. The wolfish grin that curved his maw gave him a sinister expression, twisted and creepy. Intimidation was working in his favour right now, and he was going to use it to his advantage.

Niko knew, just from the Cuban’s expression alone, that any movements he made weren’t going to result in further injuries to Helvetica. It wouldn’t be good business, after all. If the girl was dead, what would keep the lycan from killing him? Nothing. So he stood still, continuing to use her slender frame as a shield from any oncoming attacks. Even if they didn’t come, he was going to be prepared.

Once again, the creature concentrated his thoughts into AV’s mind and said, “10 million will be deposited into your account as of midnight, IF you let me leave with her right now. Unfollowed.”

His eyes, the only things unchanged on him from his shift, turned on Helvetica and, in the millisecond that they met with her gaze, seemed soft. He wasn’t going to terrify her anymore than he already had by speaking to her in this state, but his brief acknowledgement was an attempt at reassurance. He was trying to protect her, save her, not hurt her.

She was safe, as long as he was around.


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