The Savage: Shadows of the Past

The Savage: Shadows of the Past 

by John Reeves

1

Jason Cherry 

Inhaling deeply, The Savage, Trevor Brock, maintained his grip on his weapon and steadies himself for whatever was coming their way.

Every fiber of Trevor Brock's being was willing to fight tooth and nail against the chaos that was about to ensnare us, knowing that Jason Cherry was ready for the relentless battle, and he could either help us emerge triumphant or be consumed by the very darkness we were attempting to dismantle.

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling as if it were an eternity, and The Savage found himself growing increasingly impatient.

Trevor much preferred to be the one taking charge rather than waiting for my opponent to make the first move.

But unfortunately, that wasn't the situation they were in.

No, we were waiting for the Widowmaker's grenade to go off.

Either they had detonated early or our intel had been incorrect regarding the time they had on the fuse.

Jason Cherry had seen his fair share of tense situations, but this one seemed to have an extra element of urgency. The silence and the waiting felt like an eternity, but the tension and adrenaline that were coursing through Cherry's veins were heightened.

As Jason Cherry studied the surroundings, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was not quite right with the situation. It felt like the calm before the storm, and Cherry could sense the electricity in the air.

Cherry's hand gripped his weapon tighter, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement or change. Every sense was heightened, his hearing was hyper-aware of every sound in the background.

Every muscle in Cherry's body was tense, coiled like a spring ready to pounce upon the first sign of danger. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, the excitement and the fear mixed together in a potent mix.

But even in the midst of all this tension, Cherry still tried to remain calm and focused. His mind was sharp, and his training kicked in as he assessed the situation and prepared for any possible scenario.

He knew that the situation could change at any moment, and he needed to be ready to act quickly and decisively. His eyes flicked around, searching for any sign of movement or any hint that the enemy was nearby.

Cherry's senses were on high alert, and he was keenly aware of the slightest sound or movement of the air. Every fiber in his body was focused on the task at hand, and he was ready to fight to the bitter end.

In this kind of situation, any distraction or hesitation could be fatal, so Cherry kept his mind and body razor-sharp. He knew that the success or failure of their mission rested on his shoulders and those of The Savage.

He couldn't allow himself to be overcome by doubt and fear, no matter how strong they might be. Instead, he had to remain steady and focused, and have complete faith in his abilities and the abilities of those fighting.

As the tension began to mount, Cherry knew that the moment of truth was drawing near. He could sense it in the air, and his instincts told him that it would happen within the next few moments.

He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and his heart was pounding in his chest. But he kept his breathing steady and his mind centered, knowing that he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him.

The seconds ticked by, and Cherry's sense of anticipation grew stronger. He could feel the tension building to a snapping point, and it was all he could do not to charge forward and start the fight himself.9

Trevor's mind raced, weighing the situation. He knew they had to act fast. The SWAT team was there to do their job, but he and Jason had mission regardless. 

The SWAT team was caught off guard by the sudden assault, taken aback by the relentless gunfire. Trevor and Jason moved through the chaos, their expressions unyielding as they shot anyone who crossed their path. 

Trevor moved with a calculated precision, his every movement fueled by a burning vengeance.

2

Jameson Reed 

The team moved into place and Detective Reed was ready for them to make a move. His guys were locked and loaded. 

The SWAT team continued on the prowl. Trying to infiltrate the facility. They made it inside, but immediately we're met with gunfire. 

Detective Reed questioned the decision to move in on the violent gangsters. The gunfire said everything wasn't going to be alright. 

Trevor could see the uncertainty on Reed's men as they walked into their demise. Jason Cherry was firing towards the bay doors in the effort to alleviate the pressure. 

The henchmen were applying serious heat on the SWAT officers. Rapidly firing shots that was taking them out. "Get down...get down now."

Jameson Reed sent an additional crew in from the back, but they too found themselves in a dangerous situation of machine gun fire. 

The situation was quickly descending into chaos. Trevor and Jason were working to keep the enemy at bay, but it was difficult to make any progress with so much firepower coming at them. 

The SWAT officers were taking heavy casualties, and Reed was growing more and more desperate. 

The sounds of gunfire echoed throughout the facility, the air thick with smoke and the stench of fear. Trevor and Jason were fighting fiercely, firing at the gunmen and ducking behind cover to avoid the hail of bullets coming their way.

Jameson Reed was shouting orders to his men from the outside, trying to coordinate their efforts and minimize their losses. However, it was clear that they were in over their head. 

The gangsters were well-trained and well-armed, and they were fighting back viciously.

Jason grimaced, his eyes dark. "That sounds like a one-way ticket to the cemetery."

Trevor nodded, "we don't have a choice," Trevor said, his voice firm. "Lives are on the line, and we can't just stand by and let the bad guys win."

Jason took a deep breath, his face hardening with determination. "Okay. Let's do this."

Trevor nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "We go on three."

Jason and Trevor counted to three and made a break for the doors. Gun shots came from multiple directions. 

3

Trevor  Brock

The Savage, that's what the media dubbed him during the three year investigation. Detective Jamison Reed had been like a goddamn bulldog in his pursuit of 'The Savage.' He was damn good at what he does. When I threw him a curveball, he always figurd it out. 

"Surrender now, Savage. Give yourself up now and nobody has to die." Detective Reed instructed. "Don't make me have to kill you, give it up."

"Come on, now, Jamison...you know that I cannot do that. Better yet, you know I never would, right?" Trevor conversed. 

Detective Reed hoped that the Savage would just surrender peacefully, and not kill his men, or make one of them have to shoot him. There was no telling who'd get the best of who, but the bluff was on from both sides. 

"You either surrender or you can die, son. The choice is yours." Reed said, hoping he sounded convincing. 

"Now listen, Reed. I'm not here to kill cops, but I'm sure as hell not against it. If you're trying to kill me, the I have no problem killing you." Trevor attempted to reason with the detective. 

Detective Reed knew Trevor was a tough, unpredictable outlaw. He had a reputation for being cunning, smart, and ruthless. He had eluded capture numerous times before, and he wasn't about to let himself be taken in now.

Detective Reed sighed, realizing that he was dealing with a difficult opponent. He knew that Trevor was not about to surrender easily. He has a ton of resolve and passion for the chase. Brock had been a special forces soldier. The Green Beret war vet had an axe to grind.  

Reed looked at his fellow officers. "You all stay back. This is my problem and I'm going to deal with it." 

Some of the officers protested, but Reed held up his hand to silence them. "I mean it. Stay back. I don't want anyone else getting hurt today."

The other officers reluctantly obeyed, taking positions around the scene but staying far enough back to give Reed and Trevor some space. 

Reed turned back to Trevor. "So...what do you want to do now?" he asked.

"I don't know, Reed." Trevor studied the detective from the backside of a concrete column. 

Trevor didn't mean for detective Reed to merely back up. He wanted them out completely, but maybe there was a way to access the rooftop from inside. 

"Get those officers out, Reed. They've all got family,  and they all want to go home this evening." 

Jamison Reed's expression tightened as he heard the demand. He knew that Trevor Brock was a dangerous man, and that he had no qualms about killing. He couldn't take any chances. He needed to diffuse the situation without anyone else getting hurt or killed. 

"I can't do that, Savage. They're here to protect citizens and to enforce the law. I can't just ask them to leave." Reed protested.

Trevor chuckled softly. "Oh, really?" he drawled, amused by the detective's response. "You really believe that those officers are capable of protecting anyone? They're all scared out of their goddamn minds."

Detective Reed clenched his jaw, frustrated at Trevor's taunting. He knew that his officers were afraid of the Savage, and he disliked that he was being reminded of that. 

"Don't underestimate them." the detective countered. "They're trained professionals and they know how to handle themselves in a dangerous situation."

Trevor smirked, clearly not impressed. "Oh yeah? I've seen better 'professionals' at a goddamn circus." 

Reed struggled to maintain his composure. He wanted to punch Trevor in the face, but he had to keep his cool. He couldn't let his anger get the best of him.

"Look, Savage, you're outnumbered and outgunned. You know that you can't get away. Just surrender and let's end this peacefully." The detective tried to appeal to Trevor's rationality.

Trevor laughed. "Outnumbered and outgunned, huh? You think that I care about that? I've been outnumbered and outgunned before, and I've made it out alive. And as for ending this peacefully, what makes you think that I want to end this peacefully?"

Reed's patience was starting to wear thin. He had come up against his fair share of difficult outlaws, but Trevor Brock was different. He was smart and cunning and he had no regard for the lives of others. 

"Listen, you stubborn jackass. You're not going to get out of this one alive if you don't surrender now." Reed growled.

Trevor leaned back against the concrete column, his expression one of mild amusement. "Is that so?" he drawled. "You sound so sure of yourself, detective. But let me ask you something."

Reed was getting tired of Trevor's banter. "What?" he snapped, his patience nearly exhausted.

"Why would I want to surrender to you?" Trevor taunted. "You and your officers, you're all the same. You follow the rules, you do what you're told. You're sheep, and you're all too easy to herd."

Detective Reed's face hardened at Trevor's words. He bristled at the derogatory description, but he refused to rise to the bait. He didn't want to give the outlaw the satisfaction of knowing that his words had gotten to him.

"You're wrong." Reed said, his voice firm. "I'm no sheep, and my officers aren't either. We're the ones who keep the order in this city. We're the ones who keep the peace." 

Trevor chuckled again. "Oh, you keep the peace, do you? I've seen what this city calls 'peace.' It's a joke. And you're all part of the punchline."

Detective Reed bristled at Trevor's flippant attitude. He couldn't deny that there was a certain level of truth to his words. The city was in rough shape, and they were struggling to maintain order. 

"Regardless of the current situation in the city, it's our job to uphold the law and to bring criminals like you in." Reed said firmly. "So you can either surrender yourself now, or we'll have to take you by force."

"Go on now, Detective Reed. Get those useless mother fuckers out of here." 

"Do you think that I am playing with you, boy?" Detective Reed questioned. 

Trevor's expression darkened. "You think you can take me by force? You and your officers are out of your league here, detective. I've faced far more formidable foes than you and your men."

4

Sarah Jennings 

The day Sarah knocked on Trevor's front door, she didn't have romantic feelings for him. Trevor was a lone wolf and didn't originally want Sarah to be a part of it all. He reluctantly agreed to bring her on. 

There was no way to pass after seeing the fire she had inside her heart. He'd find out that she brought more than expected. She had been a private investigator, detective,  and computer science expert. Sarah brought quite a bit to the table. 

"I will teach you how to use weapons and how to fight. Until we do some of those things, and improve your chances of survival, you'll have to to stay back here at our base location. As I work with you, and show you how dangerous it is,  but especially when you don't know what to look for." Trevor explained it to her. 

That changes fairly quick, as she wasn't as far off as he'd originally thought. Her gymnastics, dance classes, and athletic body, helped her advance quickly. Trevor watched her in MMA classes, and he'd coach her up, running, swimming, proper weight lifting,  and sparring. 

Sarah's determination and resilience amazed Trevor. She absorbed every piece of information he taught her without complaint. 

Weeks ticked by, turning into months. Sarah improved rapidly, thanks to her athleticism and natural aptitude for learning. She had a hunger to become the best she could be, and Trevor couldn't help but admire her dedication.

One evening, as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Trevor and Sarah sat across from each other in the gymnasium. 

The silence between them lingered, heavy with unspoken words.

Sarah broke the silence first. "You know... you don't have to protect me like I'm some fragile flower," she said, her voice a mix of frustration and determination.

Trevor chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, trust me, I know you're not fragile," he replied with a smirk. "But you're not invincible either. At least not yet."

Sarah rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. "You're just scared I'll kick your ass one of these days," she retorted playfully.

"And what if I am?" 

Trevor retorted with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and challenge. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded Sarah with an appraising gaze. 

"You've come a long way, I'll give you that. 

"Don't forget, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have. I've seen things, fought battles that would make your head spin." 

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intense whisper. "The world out there is a cruel, unforgiving place. 

"It will chew you up and spit you out if you're not careful. I just want to make sure you're ready for it." Sarah met his gaze unflinchingly, her own eyes blazing with determination. 

"I am ready, Trevor. I've been ready for a long time. You just haven't seen it yet." She stood up, stretching her arms above her head before dropping into a fighting stance.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is and we'll see who's the better fighter?" 

Trevor's eyebrows shot up in surprise before a slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. 

"Oh, it's on now," he growled, rising to his feet and circling Sarah like a predator stalking its prey. "You want to play rough? Let's play rough." 

The two faced off, the tension between them crackling with unspoken tension and barely restrained energy. 

It was clear that this was more than just a sparring match - it was a battle of wills, a test of strength and determination. 

Sarah was determined to prove herself, no matter what it took.

"There you go, just don't go getting a big head on me," Trevor joked back, His voice was low, yet deep. 

His piercing green eyes met hers with intensity and amusement. 

Trevor told her..."Your form is excellent, and I am amazed at how fast you're learning. I must admit though, I didn't think a little thing like you could handle this intensity of my training.

She felt confident and stronger than ever. Trevor's praise ignited something inside her. She knew that he could identify skill. His opinion carried real weight. 

As Trevor and Karma headed out to their vehicles, a sleek black Audi R8 parked next to the Chevy pickup truck. 

The window rolled down, revealing the smiling face of a stunningly beautiful woman with raven hair and piercing green eyes. 

"Hey there, handsome. Looks like you could use some backup on this case. The name's Veronica Vixen. I'm a private investigator, and I have some intel that might be helpful."

"What do you know, Veronica?" Trevor inquiries. Sarah looked on in suspense. 

Veronica Vixen flashed a seductive smile. "I know the pervert you're after is a regular at a certain gentlemen's club downtown. Word is he's got a thing for young dancers. Might be worth checking out, if you know what I mean." She winked. "I could tag along, help you blend in with scumbags like him."

Trevor was curious. He had several pedophiles on his target list. "Who are you referring to, I'm currently working on several things."

 Veronica leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper." His name is Roy Tarpley." 

Trevor knew exactly who that was. He'd being trying to find the elusive child molesting coward. "Yes...I will kill that mother fucker tonight, where's he at?" Trevor asks. 

Veronica's eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and danger. "He's at the VIP room of the Velvet Lounge, downtown. Should be there 'til at least 2 AM, indulging in his...tastes." She reached into her jacket and pulled out her business card. 

Sarah's eyes widened at Veronica's suggestion. She was torn between her desire to support Trevor and her concerns about his increasingly reckless behavior.

"Hold on a minute..." Sarah interjected, trying to rein in the discussion. "We can't just go charging in there without a proper plan."

The streets were dark and quiet as Trevor and Sarah arrived in downtown. They parked the truck a few blocks away from the Velvet Lounge, ensuring they wouldn't alert their target to their presence.

Trevor spotted the entrance to the club, located in an unassuming building with a neon sign flashing "Velvet Lounge" above the door.

"We're going to stalk him like we do the others." Trevor answered. "Come on, get in the truck and let's go check it out." 

Sarah sighed, realizing that she wouldn't change Trevor's mind tonight. "Fine. But we need to be cautious, and we need to stick to the plan."

They approached the entrance cautiously, trying to blend in with the occasional passersby. 

As they stood in line, waiting to be admitted, Sarah couldn't help but notice the seediness of the place. The velvet-clad bouncers at the door gave her an uneasy feeling.

Once inside, the dimly lit interior of the Velvet Lounge enveloped them in an atmosphere of questionable intimacy. 

Soft jazz music played in the background, while the air was thick with the scent of cheap perfume and mingled sweat.

5

Roy Tarpley

They found a secluded corner table with a direct view of the VIP room. The velvet curtains concealed the occupants, but laughter and muffled voices emanated from within.

They ordered drinks to avoid attracting attention, nursing them slowly as they kept their eyes fixed on the VIP room. Roy Tarpley arrived with a small entourage, his arrogant swagger and cocky smile evident from across the room.

The group disappeared into the VIP lounge, and the curtains closed behind them. The bouncers stood guard outside like stone-faced statues. 

Sarah leaned closer to Trevor, keeping her voice low. "He's in there. Now what?" she asked, her tone laced with irritation. "Are we just going to sit here and watch him all night?"

"What's wrong? You know that's what we do. Is there something wrong?"Trevor said, and looks into her eyes. 

Sarah's eyes met Trevor's, her frustration evident in her gaze. "I know that's what we do, but this is different. We're not just watching and waiting, we're targeting a predator," she said, her voice laced with a hint of disgust. "I can't just sit here and watch him do whatever he's doing in there. It's eating away at me."

She clenched her fists, the anger and helplessness of the situation manifesting in her body language.

"That's what we do. Ninety percent of of our targets are pedophiles and gangsters. We eliminate that type of garbage. There's something else...what is wrong, Sarah?"

Trevor studied her, seeing the internal struggle playing out in her eyes. He understood her frustration, but he also knew that they had to remain focused and level-headed.

"Sarah, I get it," he said, his voice steady. "But we can't rush in there half-cocked. We need to wait for the right moment, when he's most vulnerable and distracted."

"Does this have anything to do with the outwardly affectionate, Veronica Vixen?"

Sarah scoffed at the mention of Veronica. "What does she have to do with anything?" she replied defensively, her voice rising slightly in volume.

Her gaze flicked towards the VIP room, watching the faint outlines of movement through the curtains. 

The thought of Roy Tarpley's behavior in there filled her with a mix of rage and helplessness.

Trevor chose his words carefully, aware of the delicate situation between them. "You've just seemed...on edge since we left the gym."

Sarah's eyes shot back towards him, her irritation obvious. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, her voice tight with frustration.

"It means you've been snapping at me since Veronica showed up," Trevor responded calmly. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise at the accusation. "Jealous? Seriously?" she said, her voice rising even further. "You think I'm jealous of Veronica Vixen?"

Trevor sighed, his own patience starting to wear thin. "If it's not jealousy, then what is it? Because you've been acting like you want to rip her throat out all evening."

Sarah's anger bubbled over, and she leaned across the table towards Trevor, her voice low and intense. "You don't get it, do you? Maybe I am a little jealous. She gets to be close to you, hanging all over you, while I have to keep my distance."

Trevor's expression softened, a mix of surprise and concern on his face. "Sarah, that's not how it is. I keep my distance from her because she's a risk." Trevor's expression softens as he takes in Sarah's frustration and anger. 

He understands all too well the feeling of helplessness that comes with watching a predator operate from the shadows. 

Gently, he places a hand on her arm, his touch a silent offer of support and understanding. I know it's hard, Sarah. 

The waiting, the not knowing - it's a special kind of torture. But we have to trust the plan. 

Trust that by gathering the evidence we need, we're setting the stage for justice to be served.

Roy Tarpley exited the VIP a little after 1am. Trevor had watched him come out from the backrooms. 

The slowly followed him to through the doors. He walked toward the parking area, but kept going down the sidewalk. 

The dim city lights cast long shadows on the deserted street. Roy Tarpley walked along the sidewalk, oblivious to the fact that he was being followed. 

The sound of Sarah and Trevor's footsteps echoed softly in the night, blending in with the usual city noises.

Trevor and Sarah kept their distance, staying in the safety of the shadows. They watched as Roy Tarpley continued down the street, his arrogant gait betraying his sense of entitlement.

Trevor whispered a plan to Sarah. "We can't let him get back to the club. We need to intercept him before he reaches the end of the block."

Sarah nodded, her focus razor sharp. They edged out from behind the dumpster and stalked closer to the target ahead.

The street was deserted except for the occasional passing cars. The occasional pedestrian walking. 

Sarah and Trevor took cover behind a dumpster, watching as Roy Tarpley walked down the sidewalk, blissfully unaware of their presence.

Trevor watched as Tarpley sauntered down the sidewalk, his movements casual and unguarded. He was talking on his cellphone, oblivious to the danger that approached him from the shadows.

Trevor signalled to Sarah, a silent indication that now was the time to act. She nodded in agreement, her eyes locked on the target. They both knew that the element of surprise was crucial in this situation.

They moved out from behind the dumpster, keeping low and staying hidden from view. 

They followed discreetly behind Tarpley, their footsteps light and silent.

They were close enough to hear the sound of Tarpley's phone conversation, which provided a useful distraction. They continued to follow him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Trevor kept his eyes fixed on Tarpley, waiting for the ideal moment to spring their attack.

Tarpley seemed oblivious to their presence, his attention fully focused on his phone conversation.

Trevor held up a hand, signalling to Sarah to hold her position. He wanted to watch Tarpley for a few moments longer, assessing his movements and his defenses.

It was the moment they'd been waiting for. Trevor gave Sarah a quick nod, signalling her to ready herself. 

They moved in close, closing the gap between themselves and Tarpley. As they drew near, Tarpley's eyes suddenly darted in their direction. He must have heard or sensed their approach.

6

Simon Bridges 

They needed his help with a case and wanted him to come to Baton Rouge to work on it.

He packed his bags, grabbed his notes, and headed out the door.

When he arrived, he found out what the case was about.

A man named Desmond Clay had been mistakenly released from prison when he was not supposed to be released at all.

He dialed Brock's number and began pacing the small motel room. 

The phone rang twice before Brock answered. 

"Brock, it's Simon," I said, glancing down at the case files scattered across the bed. 

"We need to talk about Clay." 

Brock's sigh crackled through the line, heavy with frustration. 

"Yeah, Simon, this is a mess. Sarah's digging into Clay's connections in Houston. We need to figure out where he might go next." 

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. 

"Let's meet at the precinct tomorrow morning," I suggested. 

"Tonight, we need to prepare for the unexpected." 

Detective Simon Bridges sat at his desk in Houston, Texas, going over some notes on a case he was working on when he got a call from Baton Rouge.

They needed his help with a case and wanted him to come to Baton Rouge to work on it.

He packed his bags, grabbed his notes, and headed out the door.

When he arrived, he found out what the case was about.

A man named Desmond Clay had been mistakenly released from prison when he was not supposed to be released at all.

He dialed Brock's number and began pacing the small motel room. 

The phone rang twice before Brock answered. 

"Brock, it's Simon," I said, glancing down at the case files scattered across the bed. 

"We need to talk about Clay." 

Brock's sigh crackled through the line, heavy with frustration. 

"Yeah, Simon, this is a mess. Sarah's digging into Clay's connections in Houston. We need to figure out where he might go next." 

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. 

"Let's meet at the precinct tomorrow morning," I suggested. 

"Tonight, we need to prepare for the unexpected." 

"I'll be there," Brock replied, his voice tinged with anger.

He hated when people tried to manipulate the legal system to their advantage, and this case was no different.

Simon could sense the anger in Brock's voice and knew that he was not going to take this lightly.

As they hung up the phone, Simon couldn't help but feel nervous about what was to come. 

He had a feeling that this case was not going to be an easy one, especially with someone as stubborn as Brock on the team.

The next morning, Simon arrived at the precinct early to get a head start on the case. As he entered, he saw Brock sitting at his desk, looking intense as usual.

"Morning, Brock," Simon said, walking over to him.

Brock looked up at him, his expression still serious. "Hey, Simon. You ready to get started?"

"First let's get us a hot cup of Joe." Detective Bridges said. 

Brock looked at Bridges with a raised eyebrow. "Coffee, huh? You trying to soften me up or something?"

Bridges chuckled, shaking his head. "Just trying to start the day off right. Plus, you seem like the kind of guy who needs some coffee to function properly."

Brock couldn't help but smirk at that. "You're not wrong about that. I'm not exactly a morning person."

"Well, that much is clear," Bridges replied with a smile. "But seriously, let's get some coffee and get started on this case. I've been digging up some interesting information that I think you'll want to hear."

Brock nodded, feeling a bit more awake now that the prospect of caffeine was on the table. "Alright, let's get coffee. 

But make it strong. I have a feeling we're going to need it."

The two vigilantes headed out to a nearby coffee shop, where they ordered their coffee and found a seat in the back of the cozy cafe.

"So, what do you have for me, Bridges?" Brock asked, taking a sip of his hot coffee.

Bridges pulled out a small notebook and started flipping through some pages. "I've been doing some digging into Desmond Clay's life, and it turns out he has a pretty extensive criminal record. 

He's been in and out of prison for years on various charges, including drug trafficking and assault." Simon Bridges explained. 

Brock nods, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I know about his record. He's not exactly a saint, is he?"

Bridges shook his head. "No, he's definitely not. But here's where it gets interesting. I've been looking into his connections in Houston, and it turns out he has a lot of them. He's got ties to all sorts of organized crime rings and drug cartels."

"All of these different crime organizations accept him? They don't usually work together." Trevor asked. 

Bridges nodded, "That's exactly what I thought, too. But Clay seems to have a way with people. He knows how to make himself useful to different groups, and he's not afraid to cross lines to get what he wants."

"Sounds like a real charming guy," Brock said, his sarcasm heavy. "But what does all of this mean for us? Where are you going with all of this, Bridges?"

Bridges took a deep breath. "I think it means that we need to be extra careful. If Clay has connections in Houston, it means he'll have places to hide or people to help him. We need to be vigilant and keep our eyes open for anything suspicious."

"Agreed," Brock said, finishing his coffee and standing up. "We need to start canvassing the areas where he has connections. We need to talk to his old associates, his family members, anyone who might have any information on his whereabouts."

Bridges nodded, standing up as well. "I've already got a list of people that we can talk to. We just have to be careful about how we approach them. These are dangerous people, Brock. We don't want to put ourselves in harm's way."

"I know, I know," Brock said, his expression hardening. "But I'm not afraid to take risks if it means bringing this guy to justice. Let's get going."

Bridges nodded, and the two men left the coffee shop, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead.

As they walked back to the precinct, Bridges' phone rang. "One second, Brock." He said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and answering it. Brock stood by, waiting for him to finish the call.

After a few moments, Bridges hung up the phone and looked at Brock with a concerned expression. "That was Sarah. We've identified Clay's location."

After a few moments, Bridges hung up the phone and looked at Brock with a concerned expression. "That was Sarah. We've identified Clay's location."

"He's at a safe house in the Eastside of Houston. It's an old warehouse that's been converted into a makeshift headquarters for one of the cartels he has ties to," Bridges said.

Brock nodded, his mind racing. "Alright, let's get moving. We need to get there before he gets away."

The two vigilantes quickly rushed back to their car, and they sped off towards the Eastside of Houston.

As they drive, Brock's mind races, thinking about how best to approach the warehouse.

"We need to be careful with this," Brock said, his hands tightening on the wheel. "We can't go in there guns blazing. We need to be tactical about this."

Bridges nodded in agreement. "I agree. We should scope out the area first and see if we can get any information on the layout of the building and the number of people inside. We don't want to walk into a trap."

"Right," Brock said, his mind racing with ideas. "We'll need to approach from multiple angles, take out any guards or lookouts quietly, and then breach the building together. We need to act fast and efficiently."

"Sounds like a plan," Bridges said, his expression serious. "But we have to remember that this is a high-stakes situation. We don't know what we're walking into in there, and we need to be prepared for anything."

They drive in silence for a few more minutes. Finally, they arrive at the safe house, a large, dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Desolate area, with nobody around. 

"There it is," Bridges said, pointing to the warehouse. "That's where Clay's hiding."

They parked the car a few blocks away from the warehouse, hidden in the shadows of a nearby alley.

"Alright, we need to move fast," Brock said, his tone low and urgent. "We'll split up and approach the warehouse from different directions. You take the back. I'll go in from the front."

Bridges nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Got it. Be careful, Brock. We don't know what's inside that warehouse."

"Don't worry about me," Brock said, a small smirk on his face. "Just worry about your own ass. I'll be fine."

Bridges shook his head, a small smile crossing his face as well. "You're a stubborn bastard, you know that?"

"I'm a Taurus, perhaps that's it." Trevor grinned. 

Bridges couldn't help but chuckle at this. "Yeah, that might be it. You're stubborn, and I'm a Gemini, which means that I'm adaptable. Maybe that's why we make such a good team."

"Hmph," Brock said, unable to hide his amusement. "Yeah, maybe you're right. You're the brain, and I'm the brawn."

"That's what they say," Bridges said. "Now, let's focus on the task at hand. We need to get in there and get Clay before he has a chance to escape again."

Brock nodded, his expression turning serious again. "Right. You take the back, and I'll take the front. We need to be careful and stealthy. We don't want to alert anyone to our presence."

Bridges pulled out his gun, checking to make sure it was loaded. "Got it. I'll watch your six."

Brock did the same, his hand tightening around the grip of his weapon. "Let's do this. Remember, stay alert and keep your wits about you."

Bridges nodded and headed off to the back of the warehouse, while Brock took a deep breath and made his way towards the front.

As he got closer to the warehouse, Brock could see a few guards stationed outside. He ducked behind a nearby shipping container, using it for cover.

Clay was definitely in there, but Trevor didn't think that Clay was the top dog. He believed that Clay took orders, not giving them. 

He watched the guards intently, waiting for an opening. They were standing in front of the warehouse doors, chatting with each other and seemingly distracted.

Seeing his chance, Brock quickly and quietly moved from his hiding spot, creeping closer to the guards.

As he got closer, Brock could hear their conversation. They were talking about a recent sports game, oblivious to the danger that was approaching them.

The second guard turned and started to reach for his weapon, but Brock was faster. He grabbed the guard by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, slamming him against the warehouse wall. Repeatedly until he felt the guards body go limp. 

Quickly, Brock dragged the unconscious guard behind some nearby crates, hiding him out of sight.

He moved on to the third guard, quickly and silently taking him out with a well-placed punch to the jaw.

With all three guards taken care of, Brock turned his attention back to the warehouse doors.

He pushed the doors open and stepped inside, his gun drawn and his senses on high alert. 

Inside the warehouse, he found himself in a spacious room filled with boxes and crates stacked high. 

Trevor figured that was the illegal weapons. Maybe drugs, but more likely weapons. 

He quickly surveyed the area, but there was no sign of Clay anywhere.

Just as he was about to move further into the warehouse, Brock heard a low voice behind him..."Well, well, well. If it isn't the big shot...aye Savage." He laughed. 

"That's exactly right, mother fuckers." Trevor said, his voice low and grimacing. 

The voice laughed again, and Brock turned to see who it belonged to. There, standing in the shadows, was none other than Desmond Clay.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Clay said, stepping out of the shadows and into the light. He was a large man, with a rugged, weathered face and a cocky expression.

Brock tensed, his grip on his gun tightening. "I've been looking for you, Clay. You've been causing a lot of trouble around here."

Clay chuckled, taking a step closer to Brock. "Trouble? Oh, I don't think trouble is the right word. I prefer to think of it as...excitement."

"Excitement, huh? That's a nice way of putting it." Brock said as he began raising his gun.

But before he could take aim, Clay spoke up again. "Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. You see, I have something that you might want."

Brock paused, his gun still raised but his focus now fully on what Clay had to say. "And what's that?"

Clay smirked, and suddenly another figure emerged from the shadows. It was a young woman, no more than eighteen years of age. 

The girl was small and slender, with dark hair and fearful eyes. 

She was trembling, her hands bound behind her back and a gag over her mouth.

"See that?" Clay said, motioning to the girl. "That's what you want. Isn't she a pretty little thing?"

Brock's eyes narrowed, and he felt his blood beginning to boil. "What are you doing with her? Why do you have her?"

Desmond Clay was a demented, twisted, sick bastard. A real lowlife, scumbag, mother fucker, and The Savage wanted to kill him badly. He would be so fulfilled to see his life exit the body.

 "Why do you think?" Clay said, stepping closer to the girl and stroking her hair. "She's insurance. leverage. Something to keep you from getting too trigger-happy."

7

Desmond Clay

Felix Mann called his partner in crime, "I heard some noises from your wing, is everything alright over there, Clay?" The Cat named Felix asked.

"Ten-four." The Cat, replied. Felix had trucks to ship and he didn't have time to double check on the situation. 

The money was in hand. The goods had to shipped out. The girls, guns, and cocaine, all had to go without a day to spare. 

Clay put his phone away and turned his attention back to Brock. He smirked, his eyes glinting with sadistic satisfaction. 

"That was Felix. He's worried about our little deal, thinking I'm losing my touch. But I've got you right where I want you now." He laughed. 

Brock clenched his jaw, trying to keep his anger in check. "You won't get away with this, Clay. I'll make sure you pay for what you've done."

Clay laughed, his expression callous. "Oh, you'll try, I'm sure. But you're no match for me. I'm always one step ahead. That's why I'm the one in charge here."

Clay's smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his bravado. "You think you can take me down? You're just one man. I have an entire organization behind me." 

Clay's smirk transformed into an angry snarl. "You think this is a game, don't you? This isn't some movie where the good guys always win. You might be able to take down some of my men, but you'll never get me. I've got eyes everywhere. I'm always watching."

"You can watch all you want," Brock said, his grip on his gun still strong. "But it won't do you any good. I'm not playing games, Clay. I'm serious. You're going to pay for everything you've done. You're going to pay for the lives you've ruined, for the pain and suffering you've caused."

Clay's expression darkened, and he took a step closer to Brock. "You're just a small-time vigilante, thinking you can make a difference. You're nothing but a pest, a fly that needs to be swatted away. But I promise you this - I'll swat you down, and I'll make sure you don't get back up again."

Simon moved quickly and silently through the warehouse, careful not to make any noise that would alert the guards to his presence. 

He crept through the shadows, his gaze scanning the area for any sign of Trevor. 

That's when he saw him - Trevor and Clay facing off, the tension between them thick. Heavy with emotion and rage.

Simon ducked behind a nearby crate, watching the two men intently. He took a deep breath, his heart racing as he tried to figure out what to do next. 

He knew that he couldn't let Trevor take Clay on alone, but he also knew that he couldn't just rush in without a plan. He needed to be smart about this.

As he watched, Simon noticed a small opening in the warehouse walls - a possible way out. He knew that they needed to get out of there soon, before they were discovered. However first, they needed to deal with Clay.

Simon weighed his options carefully. He could try to sneak up on Clay and take him out, but that would be risky. 

Clay was a dangerous opponent, and Simon didn't want to get into a firefight in such close quarters.

Just then, he heard the sound of someone approaching the warehouse doors - Clay's men. 

Simon quickly ducked back into the shadows, hoping they hadn't seen him. He watched as three guards entered the building, their attention focused on Clay and Trevor.

"Who is this guy?" One of the men asked. 

"This guy is 'The Savage', a deadly vigilante." Clay answered. 

"He don't look like much to me." The guy replied. 

The guard's comment seemed to amuse Clay, and he chuckled. "Looks can be deceiving, my friend. This guy's more dangerous than he looks."

The guards shrugged, still not seeming too concerned. "Alright, boss. If you say so." They then turned their attention to Trevor, sizing him up.

The guards shrugged, still not seeming too concerned. "Alright, boss. If you say so." They then turned their attention to Trevor, sizing him up.

Trevor stood his ground, his gun still raised. "You boys might want to back off, unless you want to end up like your buddy over there."

The guards smirked, clearly unaffected by his threat. "Big talk for a little guy. We've taken down tougher opponents than you before."

"Is that so?" Trevor said, his expression darkening. "Well, why don't we put that to the test then?"

The guards exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Trevor's challenge. "What did he just say?" 

They hadn't expected him to be so bold. The tension in the room thickened, and the air filled with anticipation.

Clay watched the exchange with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the show. He could already tell that this wasn't going to end well for Trevor.

"Go ahead, boys," he said to the guards. "Show him what we do to trespassers around here."

The guards immediately tensed, their hands moving to their holsters. 

They looked at each other, both feeling the tension in the air and knowing that a fight was about to break out.

"Come on you fucking cunts." Trevor growled through clenched teeth. Trevor took a step closer to them, his eyes locked on them with an almost feral intensity. "You sure you want to try that?"

The guards swallowed hard, their bravado faltering for a moment. They had never seen someone so calm and collected in the face of danger before, and it unnerved them. 

However, they weren't about to back down now. They had something to prove in the face of a Brock's challenge. "You asked for it, hero boy." The guard said. 

Trevor's smirk only widened at the challenge. "Bring it on."

The guards drew their weapons, their eyes narrowed in focus. They were ready to fight, their muscles tensing as they prepared to attack.

"Oh...so you coward mother fuckers want to use weapons, huh?" Trevor said. 

The guards rolled their eyes. "Hey, we're just leveling the playing field here, old man."

Simon 'Killshot' Bridges watched on. was sure if he would get a shot from his current position. There was no where to move to. There was not a location that provided him a better shot. His mind raced the available options. All he could do was watch and wait. 

He hoped that Trevor could handle the situation, confident that the 'The Savage' would prevail.

The guards moved forward cautiously, their guns raised and ready. They were clearly not underestimating Trevor's skills, but they were also not overly intimidated. 

They had been in plenty of fights before, and they thought they could handle this one just as easily. They didn't see the whole picture. 

Simon screwed down on the cylinder of the silencer on his 9mm. He was going to have to make some type of move. 

Simon knew that he needed to act quickly. He couldn't let the guards get any closer to Trevor without doing something to help. 

He scanned the area for a different location where he could take the shot, but there was still nothing. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

He knew that he would have to risk being seen in order to take the shot, but he had no other choice. He couldn't just sit back and watch as Trevor fought for his life.

8

Danny Frost

Trevor was fighting tooth and nail against the henchmen. Trevor hit them with some damaging shots. The sound of his fist hitting them was a sickening sound of flesh slapping together. 

The men fell. 

He stomped one guy's shin bone, and is snapped with sound of a tree limb breaking.

They were still managing in vast numbers, delivering a series of swift beatings on The Savage. 

Killshot looked for his opportunity to make the move. To go for the kill. 

Trevor had no idea where Bridges was, if he'd make it there before they killed him. He just continued to fight with everything that he had inside him. Pure will and unwavering determination. Refusal to give up. 

Trevor fought with every fiber of his being, refusing to give up despite the overwhelming odds against him. His body was already starting to feel the effects of the brutal beatings he was taking, but he pushed through the pain and kept fighting, driven by sheer willpower and determination.

The guards were relentless, delivering blow after blow with their fists and boots. It seemed like an endless barrage of pain, but Trevor refused to back down. His face was bruised and bloody, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination.

Simon watched on, waiting for the perfect moment to act. He knew that one wrong move could ruin everything, and he had to make sure that he timed it perfectly. The wrong move could spell the end for them. 

He looked for any sign of weakness from the guards, any opportunity to take the shot without putting Trevor in danger. 

They weren't providing Simon that shot. He wasn't called Killshot for nothing. However, this was just too risky for him to take. He just couldn't do it yet. 

The guards were beginning to tire from their onslaught, their breathing becoming labored as they tried to catch their breath. 

They were used to taking down weaker opponents, but Trevor was proving to be a tough nut to crack. His unwillingness to relent, or be stopped was unreal to them. Simon could barely believe it himself, and he'd seen Trevor in a tough spot before 

"Alright, that is enough." The authoritative voice shouted. "What if the fuck is going on here?" Their boss asked. 

"We were just teaching this guy a lesson." Clay answered.  

"What lesson?" You tell me what you were schooling this man about...? Teaching him how to kick your asses?" Danny Frost asked. 

"What do you want us to do?" Clay asked. 

"Load the goddamn trucks and move out." The boss was not happy. 

"What about him?" Clay pointed at Trevor. 

"One of you put a bullet in his head, and get back to work. You're making me nothing by sitting here." Danny Frost said, and walked away. 

Simon Bridges knew he had to make a move. They had orders to kill Brock. So he knew that he had to do something. Thinking fast...knowing that this could be their final few minutes alive. 

Killshot's mind raced as he watched the exchange. He knew that he had to act quickly, or Trevor's life would be lost. He couldn't let that happen to Brock. He made his move and as quick as he could.  

Simon took aim, steadied his hand, and took the shot. It hit its mark perfectly. Just like he had been trained to do.

Trevor's mind was fuzzy. But he was still fighting. 

Simon moved to him and helped him up. "You okay?" 

"Never better, Simon." He answered with a bloodied smile.

Simon couldn't help but smile at Trevor's reply. Despite everything that had just happened, the man was still managing to joke. Typical.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Simon said, helping Trevor to his feet.

They made their way towards the exit and out into the night air, leaving the warehouse and its hostile inhabitants behind them.

They walked for a few blocks in silence before Trevor spoke up. "Thanks, Simon."

Simon smiled, feeling relieved that they had made it out in one piece. "No problem, man. You would have done the same thing for me."

"Yes." Trevor nods. "I most definitely would've, bro. I guess we need to find out who this guy Frost is, and how he managed to get into the kingpin spot." 

Simon nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we need to do some digging and find out more about this guy Frost. And we need to be careful. He seems like a dangerous guy, and I have a feeling he's not going to just let us walk away from this without some sort of payback."

Trevor chuckled grimly. "Yeah, I think you're right about that. He doesn't seem like the forgiving type." 

Simon looked at Trevor, studying his bruised and battered face. "You look like hell, man," he said, concern in his voice. "You sure you're okay?"

Trevor shrugged, wincing slightly from the pain. "I've had worse," he said with a dry chuckle. "I'll be fine."

Simon shook his head, knowing that Trevor was downplaying the extent of his injuries. "You know, you don't have to act tough all the time," he said. "You can admit that you need a little help every now and then."

9

Mike Monroe 

The had been with Houston police department for nearly a decade. Mike Monroe was a homicide detective, and he and Jameson Reed worked on many Savage cases. He knew the brutality of the Trevor Brock's attacks. 

Once the police force accepted the assistance that the Savage provided, Monroe would become his point of contact. He'd come to like Brock, and even provided him info he wasn't supposed to have. 

In the end he knew that the Savage was trying to eliminate the worst of the worst. Trevor Brock was a dangerous man, but strong ethics and values. He knew that some of the decisions he'd made were not permitted, but he did it. 

Mike Monroe trusted Trevor, but he also knew that he was walking on thin ice, and that one day, his actions could catch up to him.

For now, Trevor was getting results, and that's all the top brass really cared about. The people of Houston were happy with the changes. 

Mike Monroe picked up his phone, and he called the Savage to see who he was tracking. "Hey Trevor, it's Detective Monroe here." 

"Hey Mike, how are things going there with you?" Trevor asked. 

"You know how it is, day to day." Mike said. "Are you busy with anything today?" 

"Yes...I am. In fact, Mike...what can you tell me about a man named Danny Frost?" 

Mike ran the name through the database, and he saw a rap sheet that rivaled any gangster in the city. "He's definitely not a good person. If you can think of it he's done it." Monroe assured him. 

"Thanks Mike, I appreciate the help." Trevor said.

"Not a problem." Mike said. "Hey Trevor, can I ask you a quick question?" 

"Sure. What's on your mind?" Trevor inquiried 

"Does anything ever keep you up at night?" Mike asked. "Or do you sleep like a baby?"

"Yeah. I suppose that's pretty common in my profession now that I think about it." Mike said. "Don't worry about it. I was just curious."

"Well if you meant because of the killing that I do, the answer is a yes, I don't believe that I am doing good things. No reason to lie. No regrets, no hesitation, and no problems with continuing on with it. " Trevor explained carefully. 

Mike had to smile, because part of him was starting to like Trevor. "You know, I really appreciate the honesty. I also get that if any of this ever comes back on you, you'd deny everything, right?"

"No...not a chance. I'd justify it, and I'd stand behind what I have done. Ever body, every case, and every person dead." Trevor said. 

"Damn." Mike said. "You seem to have put a lot of thought into this. I gotta ask...what made you decide to go down this path in the first place? You don't seem the type."

"It was never in the plan, you're right. One day I realized this world was filled with people who do horrible things, and hurt innocent people and I became aware of how much control was allowed to be given to the monsters." Trevor paused for a second. "That's the short version."

"If I were to come across that way nobody could deal with me. Only the worst ones out there will have to deal with me." Trevor reassuring Monroe. 

Mike chuckled. "You know that makes a lot of sense. Well, thanks again for the conversation. Good luck with Frost. If you catch him, I hope they leave the bastard in prison for a long time."

Mike's chest was getting tighter as he listened, and he knew it. "You just be careful alright? You're not invincible. You have the advantage of the people you're after not really expecting you, but you're still one man. Remember that." The detective warned.

"I'll give you a call if things get too crazy. You never know." Trevor told him. 

Mike knew that he'd never call. He was merely fluffing with him. Making him feel needed. 

"I'll give you a call if things get too crazy. You never know." Trevor told him. 

Mike knew that he'd never call. He was merely fluffing with him. Making him feel needed. 

"I'll look forward to it." A smile formed on Mike's face. "I better get back on the job here, but be safe. See ya later."

The area was abandoned, and it was starting to get dark. The surroundings were eerie, as all of the buildings were boarded up. It looked like it had once been a popular tourist attraction, but something happened to end that.

"This is a sketchy place to meet, even by our standards…" Simon muttered, looking all around them.

The waited for a little more than an hour,  but they never saw anything. So they decided to hit the streets. "We will find them." Trevor assured him.  "It's a  matter of time." 

That was something that Simon Bridges wasn't so sure of, but he chose to be optimistic about the situation. Maybe they would catch up to them. Hours passed and nothing else happened. They needed to talk to someone who's always on the knowing end of things. 

"Hey, drive over to the Red Velvet Lounge. I might be able to get some information on Frost there." Trevor said. 

"Are you serious? Isn't that a gentleman's club?" Bridges chuckled. 

"Yeah...and those girls know what is happening around Houston. Guys spill their guts in  there." Trevor replied with a smile. 

The two vigilantes quickly rushed inside. If anyone who they crossed earlier that day might blow their cover. They went through the doors and they were in.  

"What can I do for you, Sweetheart?" The waitress asked. 

"Can you tell Valencia Vixen that The Savage needs to speak with her?" Trevor asked. 

Moments later...she walked out from the backrooms. "Hello there, Savage." Her presence was strong, her expression steely, and she leaned across the table seductively. "How can I help you?" 

"What do you know about a man named Danny Frost?" Trevor showed her a photograph. 

"I know someone that knows him. He's right over there." She turned pointing at Desmond Clay.  

"Damn...you bet he knows." Trevor nodded. "Look over there, Bridges." 

Simon saw Clay sitting there. "Yep...that's the break that we needed." 

"What do you know about that guy?" Trevor conversed.  

"I know he's an escaped convict. He escaped from a Louisiana prison about a month ago." Veronica Vixen said. 

"He's running drugs. Big time. Cocaine, marijuana, heroin, you name it. He's also known to be involved in the gambling business and human trafficking." 

"Damn he is a busy guy." Trevor shook his head.

"From what I've heard he's been looking to get his operation up and running again. Looks like he has big plans." Veronica said.

"We'll see about that." Trevor said. "He's on borrowed time." 

10

Brock - Bridges 

They followed discreetly behind Clay. He walked toward the liquor store. Trevor and Simon carefully watched him. When he came out with his bottle, he went west on York Avenue.  The two vigilantes quickly rushed upon him. 

"Hello there, Clay...what do you know?" Trevor grabbed him, and slammed him hard into the wall. "We need some questions answered." 

"You got the wrong one. I don't talk to strangers." He smarts off. 

Trevor punched him across the face. "You will talk or otherwise I will kill you right here. Do you want to die here?" 

"Ok! Ok! What do you want to know?" Clay said, his nose bleeding heavily.

Trevor and Simon exchange a look before Trevor speaks. "We need to know who this Danny Frost guy is. Where he came from, how he managed to take over the city."

Clay swallows hard, his eyes darting around nervously. "I don't know much, man. He just showed up outta nowhere and took control. He's got everyone scared shitless."

Trevor grabs him by the front of the shirt and pushes him up against the wall. "Who are his associates? Who does he hang around with?"

Clay struggled to breath, Trevor's grip on his shirt was strong. "I don't know all of them. But I do know one guy named Felix, he's one of his go to guys. They call him The Cat. He does the dirty work for him."

"What does he look like, this Felix guy?" Simon asked. Trevor grabs him by the front of the shirt and pushes him up against the wall. 

"Who are his associates? Who does he hang around with?"

"Where is he posted up at, and if you lie to me I will kill you. You won't run or hide. You will die." Trevor Brock told him, with an expressionless demeanor. 

"Ok. Alright. Please don't kill me." Clay pleaded. "He's usually at this bar over near the train tracks, off of Industrial Street. It's called The Silver Slipper."

"Where does he lay his head down at night?" Bridges asked. 

"He stays with Frost when he's in town. Sometimes he hangs out at the warehouse at the corner of East Main and Market Street. I don't know if he always stays there, but I've seen him there a few times." 

Clay started to tremble. "Please...don't kill me."

"Good news!" Trevor said. "You get to continue on alive, well...for now, but I won't guarantee anything beyond our next stop." 

"Next stop? I'm not going anywhere with you." Clay frowned. 

"Oh yeah...that's not your choice. You wanted to live, and I allowed you that request.  Whether or not you will come with us, you've got no choice whatsoever. Understand?" Trevor asked. 

"Come here." Simon grabbed his arm and handcuffed him. "There you go. Now you walk in front. If you do anything stupid, I will kill you, got it?" Bridges asked. 

"I get it, I get it, you don't have to keep saying it. The two of you are unstable. You don't trust me, and I definitely don't trust neither one of you two." Clay said, as he walked out on front of them. 

When they get back to the car Bridges popped the trunk. "There you go, climb into the trunk." 

"Wait...what? I'm not going to climb in the trunk. Why are you going to put me in the trunk." Clay was scared.  

"Because I don't want to be seen with you. You know, just in case you don't survive the night." Simon Bridges told him. 

Clay crawled into the trunk. Trevor closed the trunk, and they got in the car. "Let's go try the warehouse first. I think he's there." Trevor said. 

"You bet." Simon pulled out of the alleyway. The traffic light caught them coming out. Trevor pulled out the cellphone that he used for business calls. 

"Hey Sarah, we are headed to the warehouse that we went to in Liberty." Trevor said. "You meet us there with the other guns." 

Simon liked the idea of her coming to back them up. "Good call." 

"Yes brother, she's caught on to everything quickly. I figured she'd be a liability, but she's been absolutely great. Like you she comes from an investigator background. She went to college for a degree in it."

"Yeah and she can fight too. That damn karate shit works great for her." Simon said. 

"Yes. Her coach at the dojo said he's never seen anything like it before. Her progression was like none he'd ever seen before." Trevor proudly acknowledged her skill. 

Sarah waited inside her car nearby the warehouse. She held a sawed-off shotgun as she waited for her Brock and Bridges. 

Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that night, and she was dressed in a fitted t-shirt and jeans. Her eyes watched and scanned the area.

Trevor led the way into the warehouse, with the man Clay behind him. Simon stayed on the rear guard watching their backs.

The building was quiet, but Trevor knew that there was no such thing as safe until the mission was over. As they walked, he made sure to keep a close eye on their surroundings, alert for any danger that might be lurking in the shadows.

They moved through the darkened passageways of the warehouse, their footsteps echoing softly on the concrete floor. The air was thick with humidity, and the scent of oil and metal lingered heavily in the air.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps nearby. Suddenly, Trevor stopped in his tracks, holding up a hand to signal Simon and Clay to do the same. He had heard a sound up ahead, a faint noise that didn't belong in the abandoned building.

They stood there, motionless, their senses on high alert. Trevor's hand instinctively went to his gun, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

Simon and Clay were both tense, following Trevor's lead. They knew better than to question his instincts. 

The silence in the building was oppressive.

They knew that they needed to keep moving. They needed to press on and continue looking for the man who had taken over the city. 

With caution, they moved further into the warehouse. A labyrinth of hallways and offices surrounding the arena in the middle of the structure. "Where does Frost stay inside here?" Simon asked. 

"I think he stays on the second floor. There's an office there where he does business." Clay, their captive, whispered to them.

"Let's go have a look around then," Trevor whispered back. 

They approached the stairway carefully, their eyes darting around in the darkness, looking for any signs of danger. Trevor took the lead, with Simon right behind him, followed by Clay.

They climbed the stairs as quietly as they could, their footsteps creaking slightly on the old wood. As they reached the top landing, they could see a faint light pouring out into the hall from beneath a nearby office door.

Trevor gestured for them to stay back a few feet, and then he carefully approached the door. He pressed his ear to the wood, trying to hear any sign of activity within the room. He could make out faint voices coming from inside - one of them distinctly Danny Frost...

Simon nodded in agreement. "We need to get closer," he whispered back. "We need to hear what Frost is saying." 

Trevor agreed, and they moved closer to the door, trying to make out the words being spoken inside the office. The voices were still muffled, but they were able to catch a few words here and there...

Trevor's expression hardened, his mind focused solely on the mission at hand. He turned back to Bridges and Clay, gesturing for them to follow him silently as he headed up the stairs.

They moved quietly, their footsteps barely making a sound on the old creaky stairs. Trevor reached the top and pressed himself against the wall, listening intently at the door.

He could hear the voices more clearly now. It was definitely Danny and at least one other man. They were talking about something, but Trevor couldn't make out the words.

"...need to expand...control more of the city..." Danny Frost said. 

Trevor and Simon exchange a look, their curiosity piqued. 

"...we need more territory..." a different voice responded, his words not quite as clear. 

Trevor leans forwards, trying to catch every word while maintaining caution.

"...money...power...control..." Danny Frost replied, his voice dripping with greed.

Simon looked at Trevor, his eyes wide. They both knew that Frost was planning something big, and it wasn't good.

"We can't afford to lose this battle. We've got to take them down." Trevor said. 

Simon nodded in agreement. "We have to stop them before it's too late," he said. 

"But we need to be smart about this. We can't just barge in there and start shooting. We need a plan."

"Kick the door in and shoot anything that moves." Trevor recommended. 

Simon raised his eyebrow. "That's your plan...just kick in the door and start shooting? Not exactly subtle, is it?"

"Okay...I'm listening. What do you got?" Trevor asked. 

Simon nodded, appreciating Trevor's willingness to consider other options. "Well, we could try to get in there discreetly," he suggested. "We could take out any guards that are in there before they even know we're coming, and then surprise Frost and his crew."

Trevor thought about it for a moment. "That could work," he agreed. "But we have to be fast and quiet. Any mistake could blow our cover."

Trevor and Simon exchanged a quick glance, and then Trevor spoke up. 

Suddenly they found themselves face to face with the Big Cat, Felix. 

"What in the fuck are you all doing in here?" His voice loud and booming. Trevor and Simon knew that he probably just alerted the others. 

"We're looking for Frost. We need to talk with him." Trevor said, his tone firm but controlled.

Trevor and Simon exchanged a quick glance, and then Trevor spoke up. "Listen up you big dumb shit...take us to the boss."

Felix's eyes blazed with anger, his hand going to his weapon. "You got a lot of nerve talking to me like that," he growled. "I could end you right here and now."

Trevor stood his ground, his hand going to his own weapon. "You could try," he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Felix sneered, his fingers itching to pull the trigger. But he held back, clearly wary of what these men were capable of. 

"You've got balls, I'll give you that..." he said. 

"Fine, I'll take you to Frost. But you better watch your mouth when you see him."

Trevor nodded, keeping his cool. "Don't worry, we can handle ourselves." Simon added. 

Felix grunted, clearly not convinced. "Follow me," he said, motioning them to follow him.

They followed him down the hall, their nerves on edge. They knew they were walking into the lion's den, and they had to be ready for anything. 

Felix led the way to a door at the end of the hall, and pushed it open, revealing a spacious office beyond. Trevor once inside knocked Felix out cold with the butt of his gun. 

Inside the office, they found Danny Frost sitting behind a large desk, surrounded by his goons.

Frost looked up, his gaze cold and calculating. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little vigilantes."

Frost chuckled, not taking them seriously. "You think you can just waltz in here and shut me down? You clearly don't know who you're dealing with."

Simon clenched his fists, ready to take them all on if he had to. "We know exactly who we're dealing with, Frost. You're a psychopath, and you're going to pay for what you've done."

"Is that so?" Frost said, leaning back in his chair. "And what exactly do you plan to do about it? You're outnumbered and outgunned."

Trevor stepped forward, his voice confident and fearless. "We may be outnumbered and outgunned, but we're also smart and determined. We'll take you down one way or another."

"I'd like to see you try," Frost said, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. "My men are loyal to me. They'll do anything I tell them to. You won't get out of here alive."

Trevor looked at the men surrounding them, sizing them up. They were all heavily armed and looked ready to fight. 

Trevor wasn't backing down. He had no intentions on giving an inch. 

"You're just lucky I have not killed you already. If not for my partner wanting to take you in, I'd have already killed you and all them too." Trevor calmly threatened him and his crew. 

"Oh, really?" Frost said, his voice dripping with confidence as he stood up from his chair. "What makes you think you stand a chance against my men?" 

"I don't know...I guess it's because I have been in the situation before, and here I am not convinced that you can stop me, ready to do it again." Brock said fearlessly. 

The crime boss chuckled at Trevor. Surprised that this guy didn't get how over matched he really was. Instead he bolstered a confidence that was a tad bit intimidating. 

"We're not just tough," Simon said, his voice even. "We're smart, trained, and unpredictable. And we have something that your men don't have."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" Frost asked, his tone mocking.

"Determination," Trevor said, his voice firm. "We're not giving up until we bring you down."

"Your confidence is admirable," Frost said, a sly smile on his face. "But it's misguided. My men have taken on armies before. You're nothing more than a minor annoyance."

"We'll see about that," Trevor said, a hint of defiance in his voice.

Trevor sounded more confident than he really was, but he didn't show a fraction of doubt outwardly. "How do you want to do this?" 

"You really think you can take on all of us?" One of Frost's goons, a burly man, said as he cracked his knuckles.

"If this guy doesn't sit down we're going to find out. I'm telling you that now." Trevor said coldly. 

The big guy just chuckled and stepped closer, clearly unafraid. "You threatening me, buddy?"

Trevor laughed,  "you see...I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen.  

The man moved in on Trevor, and was looking to wipe away the confidence of his disrespectful actions out. "Bad move, mother fucker." 

Trevor withdrew his knife from the sheathing and stuck it deep into the man's gut, and then he twisted the blade ripping his guts out. The look on the man's face said that he died before he even knew it. 

Trevor stood over the body, his face stern.

11

Big Cat Felix

"Nobody else has to die. Just do what I tell you to do." Trevor said. He looked up at Danny Frost and the other goons, watching them closely, waiting for their move. 

The other goons looked at each other, unsure of what to do now. They were clearly shaken by Trevor's quick and brutal kill of their friend.

"You bastard," Frost spat, his anger growing quickly. "You just killed my best man."

"You can be next, what's up?" Trevor taunted. 

Trevor could see that he might have to kill Frost. He didn't want to have to do that, but it seems inevitable. 

Simon gripped his weapon tighter, his eyes focused on the men surrounding them. He was ready to fight, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Trevor could feel the hostile energy, the fear and the adrenaline.

Frost looked at Trevor with pure hatred in his eyes. "You're going to regret coming here, you fucking punk. I'm going to make you suffer for what you did to my man."

Trevor held his ground, his heart beating fast, but he didn't back down. "You may have numbers. You don't know me. You have no idea what I'm capable of, but you can definitely find out."

Frost's men looked at each other, uncertainty creeping into their faces. They weren't sure if they wanted to take on these vigilantes, especially after what they just did to their friend.

Frost saw the hesitation on his men's faces, and he was beginning to realize that these vigilantes weren't just a bunch of amateurs.

He stood in front of his desk, sizing up Trevor. "You think you're so tough, huh? You think you can just come in here and take charge?"

"I'm not here to take charge of anything. I'm here to stop your reign of terror. You're an evil sadist...a real lowlife mother fucker." Trevor stared into his eyes. 

Seeing nothing except evil, a man consumed by the devil. Danny Frost was getting more pissed by the minute. 

Frost's face twisted into a snarl, his anger exploding. "You don't know anything about me! You think you're so pure and innocent, but you're no better than I am."

Trevor clenched his fists tighter, his own anger rising. "That's where you're wrong, Frost. I may have done some things I'm not proud of, but I'm not a cold-blooded killer like you are."

Simon Bridges could see that Trevor was beginning to lose control. His anger was threatening to get out of control.  He was still controlling it, but it was a matter of time before he snapped completely. 

"Oh, so you're a saint, huh?" Frost mocked. "You're just a self-righteous little prick who thinks he's better than everyone else."

"Come on then you son of a bitch. I'll beat you to death...come on. You against me, let's do it."

Frost took a step closer, a smirk on his face. "You sure about that, punk? I'll knock you out so hard you won't know what month it is when you wake up."

"Come on then, come get it." Trevor growled viciously.  

The two men stared each other down, each sizing the other up. It was clear that this was going to be a brutal fight.

"You're going to regret this, you son of a bitch." Frost said, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

Trevor clenched his fists, his adrenaline pumping. "Bring it on, mother fucker. I'm not afraid of you. You're gonna find out why I'm not." 

With that, Frost charged at Trevor, intending to knock him out with a fierce punch.

But Trevor was quicker. He dodged the punch and countered with a swift kick to the groin.

Frost let out a yelp of pain and stumbled backward, trying to catch his breath.

The other goons looked on in shock. They had never seen someone take down Frost so easily.

Frost stumbled backwards, his head swimming from the blows. He was clearly outmatched, and he knew it.

Trevor wasn't finished yet, though. He pounced on Frost, pinning him to the ground, and punched him in the face repeatedly.

The goons watched in horror, unsure of what to do now that their boss was being beaten senseless.

He charged Trevor again, and he hoped to get his own shots in. Trevor took a sidestep, and slung Frost with a hip toss. Trevor kept striking blow after blow until he was sure that Frost was no longer a threat.

With a final punch to the face, Trevor finally stepped back, panting with exhaustion. He looked down at Frost, who was barely conscious and covered in blood.

The other goons were motionless, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. They were clearly rattled by what they had just witnessed.

Killshot, was blown away at how easily Brock got the upper hand on Frost. "Damn bro, you wiped him out." 

Trevor looked over at them, his fists still clenched.He was ready for a fight if they tried anything. He nodded at Bridges. 

He turned to the goons and said..."Anyone else want to try their luck?"

Big Cat Felix stepped up. "You think you can fight? Let's fight and see what you're all about."

Trevor chuckled slightly, still amped up from the fight with Frost. 

"You want some too, big guy?" 

"If anybody here wants to fight, it's me." Felix said he a low rumbling tone. 

Trevor looked at Felix, sizing him up. He was a big guy, at least two or three inches taller than Trevor with a good fifty pounds on him. Trevor wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"You think you can take me, huh?" Trevor asked, a hint of mockery in his voice.

Trevor chuckled again, amused by Felix's confidence. "You're awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"So are you, and I wanna find out why." Felix said.  

"Alright then," Trevor said, taking a fighting stance. "Let's see what you've got."

He faked a punch, and grabbed Brock by his head, but repositioned for another grip. Trevor punched him in the ribs and tried to get a few more punches off. 

Felix had Trevor by the head, before he slung him across the room. Trevor hit the floor, but he quickly got back to his feet. 

Trevor was taken off-guard by Felix's quick move, but he didn't let it throw him off. He sprang back to his feet, his fists clenched and ready for the next attack.

Felix charged at him, but Trevor easily moved and counter punched him. Big Boy, he felt those well placed punches. He laughed at Brock, and quickly tried to capitalize on it, but Brock again was too swift.

"Wait til I get my hands on you. You're not going to survive it." 

Trevor smirked, unimpressed by Felix's threats. "You're gonna have to do better than you have been."

Felix put his hands up and he tried to jab and box Trevor with a boxing type style. 

Trevor dodged and weaved, avoiding Felix's powerful jabs. "You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you want to knock me out."

Felix kept advancing, trying to land a hit on Trevor. However, Trevor was too quick and too nimble, evading his attacks with ease.

Trevor laughed, his confidence growing with each missed punch. "I can show you better than I can tell you. Trevor Brock said. "You're wasting your energy, big guy. You're not going to touch me."

Felix doubled down on his efforts, throwing a flurry of punches, but Trevor dodged and weaved out of the way, and Trevor kicked him in the ribcage.

"You're starting to get sloppy, big guy," Trevor taunted. "Tired already?"

Trevor opened up the pressure on him. With every swing he took, Trevor knew Big Boy had no shot whatsoever. 

"You're done, Big Cat. You know it too, don't you." Trevor taunted him. 

Felix's breaths were coming heavier as he threw wild haymakers that Trevor easily dodged. He was getting tired, and he could feel his strength slipping away.

"Come on, Big Boy...you surrender to me now and I will allow you to live. You want to fight on, and I'm going to kill you. Slowly and painfully."

Felix was starting to realize that Trevor was a step above him. He was faster, more agile, and damn near untouchable. However, wasn't ready to give up just yet. 

He lunged at Trevor, trying to get a lucky hit in. Trevor was just a step ahead of him. 

He dodged the attack with ease, and countered with a well-placed punch to Felix's gut.

Felix grabbed a floor lamp, and he tried to land a hit on him with it. No luck with the sneak move. 

"Come on, getting desperate now, huh?" The Savage was toying with him. 

"That's it you rat bastard...I'm going to kill you." He charged at Trevor full speed ahead. 

Trevor slide stepped the incoming attack, and then he spin kicked him in the back. Felix's momentum, combined with his weight, and the speed of his move towards Trevor, the kick sent him head first through the second story window. 

He was badly injured, but not dead. 

"Somebody call the ambulance." He might still be alive. His henchmen scrambled to call 911 emergency. 

"Are you alright, Trevor?" Simon asked. 

"Yes I am good." He answered, and he wasn't sure of that. His adrenaline was still very high. "I thought he'd be a tougher challenge." 

Trevor walked out of the building. Simon walked beside him. "Well...on to the next one!"