At an expensive Italian restaurant in Los Angeles…
“God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix sits with Olivia Cooke as they sit and sample different small courses brought by the Chef himself.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It’s been some time since we’ve been able to get together.
Olivia looks at Jeremiah with a raised eyebrow as he sits with a cellular signal jammer around his neck to block incoming signals. A few people nearby have already grumbled and moved away to be away from the signal disruption.
OLIVIA COOKE: Are you expecting to be unable to block a phone call?
Jeremiah chuckles. Olivia knew about the cybernetic eye. This much he was unable to hide from her. That his cybernetic eye had been replaced by one that was also a bomb. This had been veiled from her. She would only worry more about him if she discovered that he was fighting a war against a former Warhammer company and had the bomb in his eye.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It’s nothing to worry about. Since rejoining the wrestling world, my phone has been ringing off of the hook with other companies trying to recruit me. Why, Rob Riot offered to pay off my back child support if I would only come join him. He thinks that my cybernetic eye would help me defeat Garmr and secure his control of the company against that scumbag, Armand von Krauss.
Olivia just shrugs with a giggle. Jeremiah did odd things at odd times.
OLIVIA COOKE: It’s fine. I was only wondering.
The waiter comes to the table with a bottle of wine so that he might refill their glasses. He fills Olivia’s cup, but then the bottle runs dry.
WAITER: Oh, I am very sorry. Allow me to grab another bottle for you, sir.
As the waiter leaves, Jeremiah tries to sneak the glass in front of Olivia, but she grabs it instead. She drains the glass in a gulp and laughs.
OLIVIA COOKE: Too slow, Mr. Vastrix!
The waiter comes back with a notepad rather than the fresh bottle of wine. He stands in silence for a moment until Jeremiah notices him.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: We can afford to just buy a whole fresh bottle, man.
Instead of saying anything, the waiter looks down his nose at Jeremiah and hands him the notepad.
WAITER: Praise the Blob.
Jeremiah frowns as the waiter walks away. Praise the Blob? He may have been in the arena when it was hosed down by the rancid blob fat. He looks down at the notepad and his eyes go wide.
Vastrix,
We know you have been blocking the signal for the bomb so that you cannot be easily controlled. This is why we just poisoned your girlfriend. Complete a job for us within twenty-four hours and we will give her the antidote. Fail and she will die. Turn the blocker off to get your text instructions.
Jeremiah grits his teeth, crushing the entire notepad in his hand. Olivia gives him a worried look.
OLIVIA COOKE: What is it, honey? What’s wrong? Something change about your upcoming tag team match?
Jeremiah licks his lips as he prepares a lie. Or at the very least, prepares to stay away from the subject. He reaches to his device around his neck and turns it off.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Valora Salinas isn’t going to be cleared to wrestle and so Takuma Sato is going to take her place alongside Dresden in the tag team match. Nothing major, but I was looking forward to kicking Valora’s ass again.
Olivia gives Jeremiah a mischievous grin.
OLIVIA COOKE: You mean that you were looking forward to seeing Valora’s ass in the ring again. You can’t fool me, Mister.
Jeremiah just shrugs with a laugh, stuffing the note into his pocket so that there was no chance for Olivia to get her hands on it.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Of course Valora has a nice ass. I would be more interested in her ass if I was more into men since her ass is about as manly as they come. Besides, if memory serves me correctly, she would be more interested in you than me. She likes a good pink gash.
Olivia opens her mouth in mock outrage and playfully punches Jeremiah in the shoulder.
OLIVIA COOKE: Good pink gash? You are a monster!
She looks around as the waiter has gone.
OLIVIA COOKE: Why didn’t he bring more of the wine like he said that he was going to?
Jeremiah feels his cell phone vibrate before the ringtone that will announce that he was to be getting a text message. He hits the button to silence the ringtone before it can be heard with a smile.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’m going to go find out what the heck is going on. You just sit here and look like the prettiest girl in the room.
Jeremiah stands up and leans down, giving Olivia a quick kiss.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Love you.
OLIVIA COOKE: Aww. I love you too!
Jeremiah makes his way back to the waiters’ station where the waiter in question was standing and waiting for the bartender to fill some drink orders. Jeremiah briefly considers shooting the man in the face, but realizes that it won’t do him a lick of good. He gets out his cell phone to look at the texted instructions.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Oh fuck me sideways in the snow going backwards.
The waiter gives Jeremiah a disgusted look. Jeremiah just rolls his eyes. Just a little something won’t hurt.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Fuck you and your little blob too.
The waiter is about to protest, but a quick heart punch sends him to the floor in a twitching heap.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Fucking zealot…
The bartender eyes Jeremiah like he may want to call the police, but says nothing when Jeremiah just grabs a bottle of wine and walks away.
He sets the bottle down in front of Olivia with a sad smile.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Hey. Brock just called and said that he needed to do an emergency training session. I will be back to meet you tomorrow. Promise.
22:00
At a Warhammer Security Office in Los Angeles.
Jeremiah Vastrix paces a waiting room before being able to see the head of the office in the form of Kevin Holms. He would normally just call Victor Greystone, the head of Warhammer Security, but he was involved in a meeting involving the latest school shooting to be able to maybe provide security for certain high risk schools.
Eventually, a bored secretary looks up at Jeremiah from her desk.
SECRETARY: Mr. Holms says that he will see you now. He’s the last office at the end of the hallway.
Jeremiah makes his way down the hall. He glances at the office doors on the way to his destination. Other security officers that coordinate a number of security operations within the region headed by this office. The region being all of Southern California.
The door to the office opens when Jeremiah arrives at the end of the hallway. He walks in through the door to see the portly Kevin Holms sitting behind his desk.
KEVIN HOLMS: Whatever it is, Jeremiah, the answer is no.
Jeremiah grins a bit before taking a seat in front of the desk.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Oh come on. You know that you love me! I just need a box of ammo for the sniper rifle. The longest range bolt rounds that you have.
Kevin shakes his head with a grimace.
KEVIN HOLMS: I’m not going to lie here. I nearly lost my job the last time that I gave you weapons. Attacking a company owned and operated by the President of the United States? It’s treason! By all rights, I should be calling the police right now. If they had a shrred of evidence that it was you...
Jeremiah shakes his head, losing his smile quickly.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: They know it was me, but they have no proof that it was me. Look, Kevin. I have enemies that poisoned my girlfriend to get me to do a job within twenty-four hours. I’m going to do that job even if I have to string you up by your toes! Capiche?
Kevin is silent for a long time as if in contemplation before he answers.
KEVIN HOLMS: They poisoned Olivia? Look. I can’t really help you out. This comes from Victor and your dad, but...what’s the job?
Jeremiah gets out his smart phone and takes it to the screen of the texted message. He shows the phone to Kevin, who reads the message and gasps.
KEVIN HOLMS: Why didn’t you say so? He’ll be speaking in Illinois? Fine.
Kevin unlocks a drawer in the desk and pulls out a small box of ammo.
KEVIN HOLMS: Good luck, Jeremiah. Don’t let these rounds get back to me. I don’t want to spend time being water boarded for info I won’t have.
Jeremiah gentlely picks up the. box of ammo with a laugh.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: They better come through on their end as I will mine. I wonder if they have the Vice compromised with that mind control whale fat? Seems likely. There will only be little bits left of the President’s skull when I get finished with him.
20:00
On a private Warhammer corporate jet in the air somewhere over Kansas.
Jeremiah Vastrix leans back in his seat with a martini in hand. A private airplane was really the only way to fly in a properlike fashion.
He finds the intercom button to the pilot and hits it.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: When are we going to be arriving?
PILOT: We will be arriving soon, Mr. Vastrix. Wait, who the fuck is that?
Jeremiah looks out through a window, grabbing the arms of the chair he’s in for dear life as the plane turns sideways to avoid an exploding rocket from a Kivunez class battle suit.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: He wouldn’t dare. Would he?
Jeremiah quickly seat belts himself as the plane goes into evasive maneuvers from the attacks of the lone battlesuit.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: What the fuck? Do we have weapons on this fucking boat?
PILOT: Fuck no! Just trying to avoid dying may kill us! This plane isn’t built for this shit!
Jeremiah clutches the arms of the chair tight as the plane quickly executes an inside loop to avoid another rocket that explodes, shaking the plane.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: This isn’t at all what I had envisioned for my death!
When he was younger, he had envisioned the death to be alone, with an STD, and far from civilization. It had changed to in a hospital bed and surrounded by his children, grandchildren, and even great grandchildren as the younger than him Olivia Cooke holds his hand for the end.
A case slides against Jeremiah’s foot. The sniper rifle case! He grabs it, cursing as the plane dodges another attack from the battle suit.
It’s difficult, but he manages to get the rifle put together and loaded while the plane is still working on dodging attacks.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Hold the plane at the steady and I will take care of this fucker!
PILOT: Are you fucking insane?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: You have another option?
PILOT: Copy that.
The pilot levels the plane out and Jeremiah disengages the seat belt so that he can take aim through a window at the battle suit.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Goodbye, fucker!
Jeremiah takes the shot through the window, striking the Kivunez in the chest just as it fires off a rocket.
The chest cavity of the battle suit explodes at the same time as the right engine of the plane.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Oops!
PILOT: BRACE YOURSELF FOR IMPACT!
Yep, this wasn’t going to end well.
Jeremiah buckled himself back into his seat, holding tight as the pilot struggled to keep the plane level and land.
A crash landing is never easy, especially when the case that the rifle was in bounces up and slams you in the side of the head.
Darkness.
12:000
Jeremiah opens his eyes to a foul smell and a penlight being shined into his eyes. His vision comes to focus and he sees that he is surrounded by several Warhammer Security medics.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Christ, I’m alive! Where am I? What time is it?
Jeremiah looks at his watch with wide eyes.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I need to be someplace in twelve hours! I need my case with the weapon stashed into it with a car!
MEDIC: Why?
Jeremiah shakes his head with a frown.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’m afraid that’s classified.
MEDIC: It’ll be done…
1:00
Jeremiah is in position on top of an apartment building. He has his sniper set up with the bolt rounds loaded. Several miles away, his target is speaking about the dangers of allowing Mexican terrorists to do damage to the Wall.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: You better come through with the antidote, Summeroff…
Jeremiah lines up his shot. In mere seconds, President Ronald McStrump is going to be not much more than a red mist.
He breathes in sharply and squeezes the trigger.
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