Post by Eno Redrum on Nov 12, 2009 16:58:15 GMT -5
Eno wiped the perspiration off his brow with the sleeve of his polo T-Shirt. He was dressed informally in a pair of shades, polo T-shirt and Bermudas. However, just hidden below the waistband of his pants was a Desert Eagle Express Action pistol. His new employer had decided that there was no way Eno was going to carry a sniper rifle around unchallenged and there too was the question about the ability to snipe in such a dense place.
His eyes strayed around the square, taking in the variety of colors. Cuba would be a nice place to visit sometimes. He vowed that he would come to Cuba sometimes again and just enjoy.
Eno’s eyes moved upwards and there, he saw a man with a pair of binoculars looking around the place. He looked Russian and was dressed as a birdwatcher.
“Funny,” thought Eno as he observed the man. Why the heck would a bird watcher watch birds in a place where there are no birds at all, and the binoculars were too weak to watch birds anyway. His eyes went to his legs and there he saw something protruding. It looked like the outline of a pistol. This was his man, Josef Dimitri. Just as Eno was about to pull out his Desert Eagle, Dimitri caught sight of that sudden movement. Immediately, Eno’s hand changed angle and went for the pack of Camel cigarettes. He put one in his lips and lit it. The one vice he had never been able to kick and absolutely hated that he had started. However, in this case, it came in handy to help hide his true intentions.
Dimitri frowned as he glanced at the American. He knew there was something aloof about the American and his doubts were confirmed when the American went for something in his pants. Time to leave, he thought as he pretended to be disappointed with what he was seeing and walked off into the house. Inside, he discarded his birdwatcher’s uniform and changed into casual wear. It actually made movement better and he felt his skin breathe after being coated in cloth and baked.
Eno frowned as the Russian headed into the house. Removing his shades, and hanging them from his collar, he tossed the Camel on the ground and headed up the house, keeping his back against the wall. From what he knew, the Russian was on the third floor, fourth room. When he was on the second floor, he spotted the Russian walk out of the room. It was the same man, true, but in different clothes now. Clever bastard, he had changed out.
Dimitri tried to keep his eyes away from the American. His position was compromised already. He did not need to show the American his handsome face so that he can shoot him dead. Dimitri made a dash for the staircase that leads into the town square and ran down.
Just as Eno was about to proceed to the third floor, he caught sight of the Russian running down a different staircase. He was headed for the crowded town square. Eno considered shooting him but decided against it for one single reason. He was under orders to kill only when he had made positive identification.
He followed the Russian down to the town square. The Russian was trying to get into the slums of Cuba. The slum of Cuba is like a nightmarish maze from Hell. If Eno was careless, he would be shot to high heaven and back.
Dimitri glanced back and smiled. The stupid American had fallen into his trap. He had contacts in Cuba that would gladly assist him in killing the American if he was willing to split the loot.
“Hey, Arnold, Sam, get ready your guns. The American is coming this way,” whispered Dimitri into a throat mic. The two Cubans laughed and two loud clicks were heard as the two men cocked their guns.
Eno frowned as the Russian turned left into an alleyway. By then, Eno had already lost the element of surprise. Now, it seemed as though the Russian had the upper hand. He pulled out his pistol and pressed himself against the wall. Taking in a deep breath, he risked a look and saw two Cubans wielding AK-47s aiming at the entrance of the alleyway. The two hired muscles were obviously untrained and undisciplined. Even a cub scout wielding water guns could kill them.
Eno stepped out and fired four shots at the two Cubans, two for each head. As the bullets entered their craniums, they looked at each other with a surprised look on their face and crumpled to the floor.
Eno walked up and picked up their assault rifle. He stole ammunition from both of them and slung the rifle across his shoulder. Now, in terms of firepower, he had the upper hand.
Dimitri swore as he saw both Arnold and Sam getting killed by the American. The rumors were true then, the American was really a crack shot. However, by shooting those two guys, the American had shown his hand. Now, Dimitri was free to kill him in any way he liked. However, he still had to be careful. The American, what was his name, Eno Redrum, was as deadly a gunner as him. One misstep and he could find himself lying on the gravel with a hole in his head.
Carefully, in order to not make any unnecessary noise, Dimitri pulled out his Beretta pistol and edged towards the side of the wall. He had to get his timing right. If he misfired, Eno would be able to take advantage of his blunder and kill him. He had to keep all the cards in his hands first and wait for a move. After a few seconds, Dimitri took a short look and realized that Eno was no longer in the alleyway. It seemed like he had moved on. Dimitri sighed and put the safety catch on. Just as he leaned against the wall and inhaled, something glinting in the sunlight caught his eye. Immediately, his soldier’s instincts kicked in and he dived to the ground to avoid the bullet. Dimitri went for his own pistol but fumbled with it.
Eno allowed himself a faint smile as he saw the Russian’s shadow. There seemed to be a pistol of some kind in his right hand. If he walked straight forward into the narrow alleyway, there will be undoubtedly no place for him to take cover in. He would kill the Russian instantly.
After a few seconds of formulating a crude but effective plan, Eno decided to try and shoot him in the back. He would just have to hope the Russian would not be expecting that little trick from him.
After a few seconds, he managed to catch sight of the Russian. The man was leaning against the wall and taking in deep breaths, probably to calm his nerves down. Eno lifted his Desert Eagle slowly.
One shot was all he needed to fell this man. Unfortunately, as he was lifting up the gun, the sunlight reflected off its silvery surface and that alerted the Russian to his presence. Almost a millisecond before he fired, the Russian had managed to hit the floor and go for his gun. However, he had made just one mistake: he had fumbled with the safety and that few precious seconds gave Eno enough time to aim and fire again.
“Good bye, Dimitri, I’m sorry you had to die but you made one enemy too many when you killed Mr. Rothman,” snarled Eno as his finger squeezed the trigger slowly. To his surprise, Dimitri managed to unhook his safety catch and loosen a shot at Eno’s gun, shattering the outer casing as well as the inner workings. Before Dimitri could make another shot, Eno pounced on him and tried to disarm him.
The two men fought over the gun like wildcats trying to gain possession of the gun. Eno swore repeatedly as Dimitri landed heavy punches on his temple in a desperate attempt to knock him out. After many unsuccessful attempts to reach the gun, Eno made a snap decision and kicked it further away onto the main road just as a military-issue jeep rolled pass, running over the pistol. Now, both of them are only armed with what they were born with, their hands and feet.
Dimitri took up a fighting stance that he had learned in the Red Army and waited for Eno to commit. Eno too took up a different fighting stance but waited for Dimitri to commit all the same. Their bodies made no unnecessary movements but their eyes taunted each other to make the first move. It was a battle of nerves and it took everything the Red Army and the S.E.A.L.s had taught both of these men.
Do you see the similarities in this story from my past and the current situation you and I face here today Saber?
Me being me. You being Dimitri and The Moderators seem to be the group pitting us against one another.
Their own special way of getting rid of two they fear while being able to easily push the one they really want to the top of the mountain top.
What better way to destroy that which is slowly rising up against them than to have us take each other out? Gotta give them credit, it is a smart plan. But in the end, it will fail.
It will fail because when we meet, there will be no underhanded dealings from the two of us. There is already too much respect there between us.
When I look at you, I see me many years ago when I first started in the business and was ready to change the wrestling world. I had hopes and dreams and ideals and I swore that no one and noting would ever change them. I knew that deep down, if I stuck to my guns, I could make a difference in wrestling.
But somewhere along the way, I strayed from the path I set out on and fell into the trap that so many others had. I was hypnotized by the money and the fame and all that other stuff that glitters. In short, I became that which I set out to destroy.
However, I found my way back to the right side of the tracks and this time, nothing will stop me from ridding this business of those that give it a bad name.
You are probably asking yourself, "why is Eno telling me all this? Why does he feel the need to tell me about his life and career?" The answer is simple. I am telling you this in hopes that you will learn from my mistakes and continue on the course that you are on. That you will rise to heights greater than those I have climbed to. That maybe one day your star will shine even brighter than mine.
I see potential in you Saber. I see more potential than I saw in myself. Just don't let it become corrupted and tainted like I did with myself.
So this week, we face off against one another and I know The Moderators are hoping that at some point during the match, the thrill of the win will get the better of one of us and that we will do whatever is required to obtain that victory, no matter what path it takes us down. That the win will become more important than the fairness of the fight. That we will trade in our respect for the other and do whatever we must to come out the victor.
All I can tell you is that I will not waver from the course I am on now. I will not hit below the belt to get a win over you. And all I can hope for is that you will approach this match the same way.
I guess only time will tell.
See you in the ring very soon my friend.
His eyes strayed around the square, taking in the variety of colors. Cuba would be a nice place to visit sometimes. He vowed that he would come to Cuba sometimes again and just enjoy.
Eno’s eyes moved upwards and there, he saw a man with a pair of binoculars looking around the place. He looked Russian and was dressed as a birdwatcher.
“Funny,” thought Eno as he observed the man. Why the heck would a bird watcher watch birds in a place where there are no birds at all, and the binoculars were too weak to watch birds anyway. His eyes went to his legs and there he saw something protruding. It looked like the outline of a pistol. This was his man, Josef Dimitri. Just as Eno was about to pull out his Desert Eagle, Dimitri caught sight of that sudden movement. Immediately, Eno’s hand changed angle and went for the pack of Camel cigarettes. He put one in his lips and lit it. The one vice he had never been able to kick and absolutely hated that he had started. However, in this case, it came in handy to help hide his true intentions.
Dimitri frowned as he glanced at the American. He knew there was something aloof about the American and his doubts were confirmed when the American went for something in his pants. Time to leave, he thought as he pretended to be disappointed with what he was seeing and walked off into the house. Inside, he discarded his birdwatcher’s uniform and changed into casual wear. It actually made movement better and he felt his skin breathe after being coated in cloth and baked.
Eno frowned as the Russian headed into the house. Removing his shades, and hanging them from his collar, he tossed the Camel on the ground and headed up the house, keeping his back against the wall. From what he knew, the Russian was on the third floor, fourth room. When he was on the second floor, he spotted the Russian walk out of the room. It was the same man, true, but in different clothes now. Clever bastard, he had changed out.
Dimitri tried to keep his eyes away from the American. His position was compromised already. He did not need to show the American his handsome face so that he can shoot him dead. Dimitri made a dash for the staircase that leads into the town square and ran down.
Just as Eno was about to proceed to the third floor, he caught sight of the Russian running down a different staircase. He was headed for the crowded town square. Eno considered shooting him but decided against it for one single reason. He was under orders to kill only when he had made positive identification.
He followed the Russian down to the town square. The Russian was trying to get into the slums of Cuba. The slum of Cuba is like a nightmarish maze from Hell. If Eno was careless, he would be shot to high heaven and back.
Dimitri glanced back and smiled. The stupid American had fallen into his trap. He had contacts in Cuba that would gladly assist him in killing the American if he was willing to split the loot.
“Hey, Arnold, Sam, get ready your guns. The American is coming this way,” whispered Dimitri into a throat mic. The two Cubans laughed and two loud clicks were heard as the two men cocked their guns.
Eno frowned as the Russian turned left into an alleyway. By then, Eno had already lost the element of surprise. Now, it seemed as though the Russian had the upper hand. He pulled out his pistol and pressed himself against the wall. Taking in a deep breath, he risked a look and saw two Cubans wielding AK-47s aiming at the entrance of the alleyway. The two hired muscles were obviously untrained and undisciplined. Even a cub scout wielding water guns could kill them.
Eno stepped out and fired four shots at the two Cubans, two for each head. As the bullets entered their craniums, they looked at each other with a surprised look on their face and crumpled to the floor.
Eno walked up and picked up their assault rifle. He stole ammunition from both of them and slung the rifle across his shoulder. Now, in terms of firepower, he had the upper hand.
Dimitri swore as he saw both Arnold and Sam getting killed by the American. The rumors were true then, the American was really a crack shot. However, by shooting those two guys, the American had shown his hand. Now, Dimitri was free to kill him in any way he liked. However, he still had to be careful. The American, what was his name, Eno Redrum, was as deadly a gunner as him. One misstep and he could find himself lying on the gravel with a hole in his head.
Carefully, in order to not make any unnecessary noise, Dimitri pulled out his Beretta pistol and edged towards the side of the wall. He had to get his timing right. If he misfired, Eno would be able to take advantage of his blunder and kill him. He had to keep all the cards in his hands first and wait for a move. After a few seconds, Dimitri took a short look and realized that Eno was no longer in the alleyway. It seemed like he had moved on. Dimitri sighed and put the safety catch on. Just as he leaned against the wall and inhaled, something glinting in the sunlight caught his eye. Immediately, his soldier’s instincts kicked in and he dived to the ground to avoid the bullet. Dimitri went for his own pistol but fumbled with it.
Eno allowed himself a faint smile as he saw the Russian’s shadow. There seemed to be a pistol of some kind in his right hand. If he walked straight forward into the narrow alleyway, there will be undoubtedly no place for him to take cover in. He would kill the Russian instantly.
After a few seconds of formulating a crude but effective plan, Eno decided to try and shoot him in the back. He would just have to hope the Russian would not be expecting that little trick from him.
After a few seconds, he managed to catch sight of the Russian. The man was leaning against the wall and taking in deep breaths, probably to calm his nerves down. Eno lifted his Desert Eagle slowly.
One shot was all he needed to fell this man. Unfortunately, as he was lifting up the gun, the sunlight reflected off its silvery surface and that alerted the Russian to his presence. Almost a millisecond before he fired, the Russian had managed to hit the floor and go for his gun. However, he had made just one mistake: he had fumbled with the safety and that few precious seconds gave Eno enough time to aim and fire again.
“Good bye, Dimitri, I’m sorry you had to die but you made one enemy too many when you killed Mr. Rothman,” snarled Eno as his finger squeezed the trigger slowly. To his surprise, Dimitri managed to unhook his safety catch and loosen a shot at Eno’s gun, shattering the outer casing as well as the inner workings. Before Dimitri could make another shot, Eno pounced on him and tried to disarm him.
The two men fought over the gun like wildcats trying to gain possession of the gun. Eno swore repeatedly as Dimitri landed heavy punches on his temple in a desperate attempt to knock him out. After many unsuccessful attempts to reach the gun, Eno made a snap decision and kicked it further away onto the main road just as a military-issue jeep rolled pass, running over the pistol. Now, both of them are only armed with what they were born with, their hands and feet.
Dimitri took up a fighting stance that he had learned in the Red Army and waited for Eno to commit. Eno too took up a different fighting stance but waited for Dimitri to commit all the same. Their bodies made no unnecessary movements but their eyes taunted each other to make the first move. It was a battle of nerves and it took everything the Red Army and the S.E.A.L.s had taught both of these men.
Do you see the similarities in this story from my past and the current situation you and I face here today Saber?
Me being me. You being Dimitri and The Moderators seem to be the group pitting us against one another.
Their own special way of getting rid of two they fear while being able to easily push the one they really want to the top of the mountain top.
What better way to destroy that which is slowly rising up against them than to have us take each other out? Gotta give them credit, it is a smart plan. But in the end, it will fail.
It will fail because when we meet, there will be no underhanded dealings from the two of us. There is already too much respect there between us.
When I look at you, I see me many years ago when I first started in the business and was ready to change the wrestling world. I had hopes and dreams and ideals and I swore that no one and noting would ever change them. I knew that deep down, if I stuck to my guns, I could make a difference in wrestling.
But somewhere along the way, I strayed from the path I set out on and fell into the trap that so many others had. I was hypnotized by the money and the fame and all that other stuff that glitters. In short, I became that which I set out to destroy.
However, I found my way back to the right side of the tracks and this time, nothing will stop me from ridding this business of those that give it a bad name.
You are probably asking yourself, "why is Eno telling me all this? Why does he feel the need to tell me about his life and career?" The answer is simple. I am telling you this in hopes that you will learn from my mistakes and continue on the course that you are on. That you will rise to heights greater than those I have climbed to. That maybe one day your star will shine even brighter than mine.
I see potential in you Saber. I see more potential than I saw in myself. Just don't let it become corrupted and tainted like I did with myself.
So this week, we face off against one another and I know The Moderators are hoping that at some point during the match, the thrill of the win will get the better of one of us and that we will do whatever is required to obtain that victory, no matter what path it takes us down. That the win will become more important than the fairness of the fight. That we will trade in our respect for the other and do whatever we must to come out the victor.
All I can tell you is that I will not waver from the course I am on now. I will not hit below the belt to get a win over you. And all I can hope for is that you will approach this match the same way.
I guess only time will tell.
See you in the ring very soon my friend.
