Revenge of the Sheik, Part 3
Apr 18, 2024 21:10:49 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by The Sheik on Apr 18, 2024 21:10:49 GMT -5
Ten
Now it was well known in XHF that Donzig was in fact a terrible driver, having a man drive with no patience or regard of life was always a terrible idea. And so the Sheik who was himself not the most careful with his life was a little shaken by the time the delivery van reached the Vorga warehouse.
Moloch who was in the back with him seem undisturbed behind his mask. He had strongly urged Donzig to let Mormo drive, but the Scourge was very angry with Death Trap.
The Sheik had no idea what that was about, but Donzig was livid.
‘We weren’t expecting a deliv—‘
The unknown voice broke off in a scream, and the door of the driver’s side popped open with a meaty thump. Then the whole van shook, and he heard a scream cut off as the van shook again. It sounded like someone had tried to shut the door on something.
There were shouts of alarm and panic, and then he heard the three round burst of a submachine gun. Moloch popped the door open, and dove outside in a crouch with his own gun at the ready. The Great King of Terror followed.
He was a man hardened to violence and death, but when he saw the three men sprawled on the earth by the driver side? Even he thought that was an ugly way to go. One was still alive, clutching at his eyes as some black vile fluid covered his face. His shoulder was clearly dislocated, and from the way his breath caught his ribs were broken.
One of his comrades lay at the side of the van, his face a ruin as he sprawled at the side of a wet bloody smear. The three was smashed into the door, and the Sheik looked away. Donzig stood amidst them, taking before he flicked a knife at the blinded one.
‘I believe one of them has locked himself in the guard shed.’
The Sheik saw it was so, the man was bleeding as he struggled for the phone. Donzig looked up, head tilting as he saw a box with a number of wires jutting from it. He said nothing, but the box exploded in a shower of sparks as gunfire erupted from Mormo. He shrugged at the Sheik, walking for the door.
‘I suspect the gunfire will be reported shortly, and the average response time in this part of the city is seven minutes. I have Sinclair causing a delay in traffic, and no one will be getting in this gate.’
The Sheik arched a brow, and Donzig pulled something from inside of his coat. Thumb stabbing down, and then the Van exploded in a ball of flames and debris showered across the night. The shed was ripped by sharpnel, and now burned as Donzig grunted.
‘Good work, Moloch.’
Moloch said nothing. The three sprinted across the yard to the dock doors at the rear of the building, the Sheik was eager to get inside. He knew the man he wanted was somewhere in those offices. Donzig waved a hand, and Mormo leapt into the cement loading dock to tug at the doors. They shook, but didn’t move. So he looked to his brother, who reached into his back to slap a pair of bolt cutters into his hands.
The Great King of Terror was a little mystified at his organized Donzig-gun was for mayhem. Donzig hissed, looking at the sky as he sang under his breath.
‘Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
Razzle Dazzle 'em
Give 'em an act with lots of flash in it
And the reaction will be passionate
Give 'em the old hocus pocus
Bead and feather 'em
How can they see with sequins in their eyes?
What if your hinges all are rusting?
What if, in fact, you're just disgusting?…’
‘Are you singing?’ Asked the Sheik stunned.
Donzig turned to stare at him, eyes blank though he saw his fingers were still tapping on his leg to the beat.
‘How else would I keep time?’
The chain on the dock door parted with a shower of sparks, and the door was flung upwards as the trio darted inside. They moved quickly between the stacked crates and boxes, and as they approached the far door it was flung open.Black clad guards swarmed inside, guns at the ready as they started to fire. Bullets bounced and cracked off the walls and crates, and everyone dove for cover. The Sheik snarled, glaring up angrily as he glanced over at the Death Squad. They were returning fire as best they could, but the guards had also taken cover.
Donzig glared for a minute before he pulled out his mask. He stared at it before jerking it over his face, and then burst from cover still singing.
‘Give 'em the old double whammy
Daze and dizzy 'em
Back since the days of old Methuselah
Everyone loves the big bambooz-a-ler
Give 'em the old three ring circus
Stun and stagger 'em
When you're in trouble, go into your dance…’
[Take that, Dave.]
Bullets ripped towards the Scourge, and the Sheik thought Donzig was finished as he charged through them. Bullets ripped through his long coat, bouncing against the floor around him. One he thought even cracked across the cheek of his mask. Then he spun, and the Sheik heard three sharp cracks. The Death Squad roared from cover as shooting from that side stopped, and he heard the distinctive sounds of their sub machines lighting up. He turned to find a gun shoved into his hands by Donzig, it was covered with blood.
So was his ‘ally’ as he held what appeared to be a Luger in his hand. He looked down at his leg which was bloody, and a few streaks of blood across his sides with a faint grunt. Mormo rushed over, producing bandages as Donzig calmly reloaded with his eyes on the door.
‘Going to need a new song if this keeps up.’
The Sheik asked a question, and Donzig shrugged.
‘If you have to use a gun, always use a classic.’
Sheik followed the Death Squad into the hallway, the big men hustling as they spoke to each other in angry tones. The Sheik followed scanned the doors along the hallway, and shook his head. He was clearly not sure which direction to go. Neither did they, but then Donzig strolled into the hallway limping slightly as he absently checked a hole in his long coat.
He looked up, and pointed.
‘Third door on the left.’
The Sheik blinked, and Mormo threw his shoulder into the door which buckled inward after two blows. Inside were a number of servers, and computer screens flickering in the dim light. Moloch took up a spot at the door, and Mormo turned his attention to the computers. The Sheik glared at the security monitors, and his eyes narrowed as he saw his target inside a conference room with two other men.
Donzig looked at him, shrugging.
‘I wish you good fortune.’
The Sheik swept from the room, and Donzig tsked. Then he turned as Mormo growled a name.
‘Ah, what is my old dear friend Kira up to now.’
Then Donzig turned back to the monitor, gesturing imperiously.
‘Download the files, and then delete the security servers.’
‘The Great King of Terror is flying under the radar because of the disrespect heaped upon him by HKW management. By the entire racist and islamophobic structure of the XHF! They overlook the Sheik because they don’t see him!
But the Sheik sees them! And he is unimpressed.'
‘How can the Sheik be unimpressed with this field of contenders? These are legends these are former champions.’
‘Oh, are they? Listen, they look like a bunch of people who need therapy! They look like a bunch of dudes on their way to draw social security! We have a guy who escaped death to do memes, we have Old Man Death Trap getting on his stepdaughter’s tik tok to tell us how awesome he was once upon a time!
I haven’t even seen our fucking X-Crown Champion one time! Not once! Where is he hiding?
I see Marty trying to tell us he is retired, but here he is! And I am sure somehow, some way he will manage to dodge the greatest fighter in the entire XHF like he has for a year when he had to have his entire crew rob the Sheik!
You think the Sheik has forgotten you, Marty? You and your Anointed Fuckboys! Well, not one of them will be there to save your ass Marty!’
‘Whoa, whoa, I think Marty is more focused on Fox.’
Graves snorted.
‘I bet he is, I bet he fucking is. Listen, Fox needs to stay out of the way of the Sheik or he will make his husband a widow all over again you feeling me? I am not just telling you lines here the Sheik wants to rip Marty apart.’
‘Right, right, and what about other Rumble favorites like Kasper Van Zant?’
Graves laughed.
‘Are you serious? Man, next question.’
‘What about Kira Izumi?’
‘Who? That guy? Shit, if Kira wants to go one on one with his fading relevance against a real master of the death match? That is his business, there are no rules in the Rumble. Do you get that man? No rules.
The Sheik can do whatever he wants to these dudes, whatever he wants. He is going to tear these fools apart, and that includes Kira! Jesus, all these dudes trying to stay relevant on their way to the retirement home!
And somehow Noel and Kira are the ones hanging around?’
Graves snorted.
He was in a panic, he had called for backup but someone had cut off communications. He glanced at the huge man at his side, his muscled form barely hidden beneath his black suit. The other man was shaved bald, and a blonde goatee as he glared at the windows. The first man gestured angrily, almost yelling.
‘We need to get to the roof, maybe we can call for a chopper.’
‘You don’t think they have thought of that? We can’t call out.’ his companion answered in a faint German accent.
The man grunted, and then the door in the hallway beyond was kicked open. A man stalked inside, panting angrily as his face was twisted in a mask of rage. He reached upwards, tearing off his keffiyeh, and started to charge down the hallway. The big German glared, and then he saw one of his men pulled out his gun. The Sheik grabbed his arm, wrenching him sideways before he flung him hard into the glass wall. It shattered under the blow, and the man sprawled amidst the broken glass before the Sheik whirled to crack the pistol across the face of another.
The man staggered, and the Sheik leveled him with a quick suplex into the wall. Paneling cracked, and the man lay in a heap as the third guard drew a knife. He tossed it from hand to hand, and slashed at the Sheik. Blood flowed across his scarred chest, and the man stabbed again! The Sheik barely dodged aside, and drove his stiff fingers into the man’s throat. He fell gurgling at his feet, and the Sheik turned to stare through the broken glass at the two men inside. The man in the suit yelped, looking around in a panic as he backed up. But the big German growled as he walked forward, flinging off his jacket.
‘You killed my brother!’
The Sheik growled low in his throat, and leapt through the glass. His hands grabbed for the man’s throat, and the big German flung him around backwards. He threw him across the conference table, and his huge hands went for his throat. The Sheik gurgled as he was choked, and ripped backwards before flung hard into the wall. He felt a red wash of pain as his ribs shattered, but he forced himself to rise as the German ran at him! He drove a few hard knees into the head of the Sheik, dragging him upwards to fling him through a row of office chairs.
‘I will end you! Do you hear me?’
The business man was in a panic, looking around wildly as his big bodyguard fought against the man trying to murder him. He backed up again, and his eyes went to the downed guard’s pistol in the hallway! He started for it but was driven back as chairs were flung aside as the Sheik struggled back to his feet. The German snarled, and started throwing punches to batter the Sheik backwards! The Sheik was bleeding, and stumbled before the German grabbed his throat once more.
Then the Sheik’s hand snapped upwards, ripping his fingers across those blue eyes! The German staggered back grabbing at his face before the Sheik ducked low, flinging him across his shoulders to slam him hard into the conference table. It creaked, sliding to one side as the German rose with a shake of his head before the Sheik snapped quick blows across his face. Bone shattered and blood flowed, and then he flung him towards the outside window.
Then Sheik hit a quick thrust kick, and the German crashed through the window with a scream. He fell backwards, hitting the ground below with a loud wet thud. And then the Sheik stared at the business man, and his hand snapped upwards to grab his tie. He flung him across the table, his forearm across his throat as he snarled.
‘ 'urid aismahu!’
The man panted, shaking his head as he looked around wildly. His eyes bulged from his face, and he gasped for air as the Sheik pressed his arm down harder. He clawed at the flesh, and then he rasped the name.
The Sheik rose, and he spat as he started to go.
But the business man was not finished, he dove for the gun. And he came up with it in his hands, and the Sheik lunged at him. His hands grabbed the man’s head, fingers sinking into his eyes as his grip tightened. He gave a quick twist, and then his enemy went limp.
The Great King of Terror tossed him aside, and started for the stairs.
He had the feeling, that Donzig would not let this building stand much longer.
That was just who he was.
Now it was well known in XHF that Donzig was in fact a terrible driver, having a man drive with no patience or regard of life was always a terrible idea. And so the Sheik who was himself not the most careful with his life was a little shaken by the time the delivery van reached the Vorga warehouse.
Moloch who was in the back with him seem undisturbed behind his mask. He had strongly urged Donzig to let Mormo drive, but the Scourge was very angry with Death Trap.
The Sheik had no idea what that was about, but Donzig was livid.
‘We weren’t expecting a deliv—‘
The unknown voice broke off in a scream, and the door of the driver’s side popped open with a meaty thump. Then the whole van shook, and he heard a scream cut off as the van shook again. It sounded like someone had tried to shut the door on something.
There were shouts of alarm and panic, and then he heard the three round burst of a submachine gun. Moloch popped the door open, and dove outside in a crouch with his own gun at the ready. The Great King of Terror followed.
He was a man hardened to violence and death, but when he saw the three men sprawled on the earth by the driver side? Even he thought that was an ugly way to go. One was still alive, clutching at his eyes as some black vile fluid covered his face. His shoulder was clearly dislocated, and from the way his breath caught his ribs were broken.
One of his comrades lay at the side of the van, his face a ruin as he sprawled at the side of a wet bloody smear. The three was smashed into the door, and the Sheik looked away. Donzig stood amidst them, taking before he flicked a knife at the blinded one.
‘I believe one of them has locked himself in the guard shed.’
The Sheik saw it was so, the man was bleeding as he struggled for the phone. Donzig looked up, head tilting as he saw a box with a number of wires jutting from it. He said nothing, but the box exploded in a shower of sparks as gunfire erupted from Mormo. He shrugged at the Sheik, walking for the door.
‘I suspect the gunfire will be reported shortly, and the average response time in this part of the city is seven minutes. I have Sinclair causing a delay in traffic, and no one will be getting in this gate.’
The Sheik arched a brow, and Donzig pulled something from inside of his coat. Thumb stabbing down, and then the Van exploded in a ball of flames and debris showered across the night. The shed was ripped by sharpnel, and now burned as Donzig grunted.
‘Good work, Moloch.’
Moloch said nothing. The three sprinted across the yard to the dock doors at the rear of the building, the Sheik was eager to get inside. He knew the man he wanted was somewhere in those offices. Donzig waved a hand, and Mormo leapt into the cement loading dock to tug at the doors. They shook, but didn’t move. So he looked to his brother, who reached into his back to slap a pair of bolt cutters into his hands.
The Great King of Terror was a little mystified at his organized Donzig-gun was for mayhem. Donzig hissed, looking at the sky as he sang under his breath.
‘Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
Razzle Dazzle 'em
Give 'em an act with lots of flash in it
And the reaction will be passionate
Give 'em the old hocus pocus
Bead and feather 'em
How can they see with sequins in their eyes?
What if your hinges all are rusting?
What if, in fact, you're just disgusting?…’
‘Are you singing?’ Asked the Sheik stunned.
Donzig turned to stare at him, eyes blank though he saw his fingers were still tapping on his leg to the beat.
‘How else would I keep time?’
The chain on the dock door parted with a shower of sparks, and the door was flung upwards as the trio darted inside. They moved quickly between the stacked crates and boxes, and as they approached the far door it was flung open.Black clad guards swarmed inside, guns at the ready as they started to fire. Bullets bounced and cracked off the walls and crates, and everyone dove for cover. The Sheik snarled, glaring up angrily as he glanced over at the Death Squad. They were returning fire as best they could, but the guards had also taken cover.
Donzig glared for a minute before he pulled out his mask. He stared at it before jerking it over his face, and then burst from cover still singing.
‘Give 'em the old double whammy
Daze and dizzy 'em
Back since the days of old Methuselah
Everyone loves the big bambooz-a-ler
Give 'em the old three ring circus
Stun and stagger 'em
When you're in trouble, go into your dance…’
[Take that, Dave.]
Bullets ripped towards the Scourge, and the Sheik thought Donzig was finished as he charged through them. Bullets ripped through his long coat, bouncing against the floor around him. One he thought even cracked across the cheek of his mask. Then he spun, and the Sheik heard three sharp cracks. The Death Squad roared from cover as shooting from that side stopped, and he heard the distinctive sounds of their sub machines lighting up. He turned to find a gun shoved into his hands by Donzig, it was covered with blood.
So was his ‘ally’ as he held what appeared to be a Luger in his hand. He looked down at his leg which was bloody, and a few streaks of blood across his sides with a faint grunt. Mormo rushed over, producing bandages as Donzig calmly reloaded with his eyes on the door.
‘Going to need a new song if this keeps up.’
The Sheik asked a question, and Donzig shrugged.
‘If you have to use a gun, always use a classic.’
Sheik followed the Death Squad into the hallway, the big men hustling as they spoke to each other in angry tones. The Sheik followed scanned the doors along the hallway, and shook his head. He was clearly not sure which direction to go. Neither did they, but then Donzig strolled into the hallway limping slightly as he absently checked a hole in his long coat.
He looked up, and pointed.
‘Third door on the left.’
The Sheik blinked, and Mormo threw his shoulder into the door which buckled inward after two blows. Inside were a number of servers, and computer screens flickering in the dim light. Moloch took up a spot at the door, and Mormo turned his attention to the computers. The Sheik glared at the security monitors, and his eyes narrowed as he saw his target inside a conference room with two other men.
Donzig looked at him, shrugging.
‘I wish you good fortune.’
The Sheik swept from the room, and Donzig tsked. Then he turned as Mormo growled a name.
‘Ah, what is my old dear friend Kira up to now.’
Then Donzig turned back to the monitor, gesturing imperiously.
‘Download the files, and then delete the security servers.’
Eleven
‘This is Brian Alcatrez live on Radio Turnbuckle with the one and only Malcolm Xavier Graves. Now there has been alot of talk that everyone in the Rumble is overlooking your client. That he is in fact lying under the radar.’‘The Great King of Terror is flying under the radar because of the disrespect heaped upon him by HKW management. By the entire racist and islamophobic structure of the XHF! They overlook the Sheik because they don’t see him!
But the Sheik sees them! And he is unimpressed.'
‘How can the Sheik be unimpressed with this field of contenders? These are legends these are former champions.’
‘Oh, are they? Listen, they look like a bunch of people who need therapy! They look like a bunch of dudes on their way to draw social security! We have a guy who escaped death to do memes, we have Old Man Death Trap getting on his stepdaughter’s tik tok to tell us how awesome he was once upon a time!
I haven’t even seen our fucking X-Crown Champion one time! Not once! Where is he hiding?
I see Marty trying to tell us he is retired, but here he is! And I am sure somehow, some way he will manage to dodge the greatest fighter in the entire XHF like he has for a year when he had to have his entire crew rob the Sheik!
You think the Sheik has forgotten you, Marty? You and your Anointed Fuckboys! Well, not one of them will be there to save your ass Marty!’
‘Whoa, whoa, I think Marty is more focused on Fox.’
Graves snorted.
‘I bet he is, I bet he fucking is. Listen, Fox needs to stay out of the way of the Sheik or he will make his husband a widow all over again you feeling me? I am not just telling you lines here the Sheik wants to rip Marty apart.’
‘Right, right, and what about other Rumble favorites like Kasper Van Zant?’
Graves laughed.
‘Are you serious? Man, next question.’
‘What about Kira Izumi?’
‘Who? That guy? Shit, if Kira wants to go one on one with his fading relevance against a real master of the death match? That is his business, there are no rules in the Rumble. Do you get that man? No rules.
The Sheik can do whatever he wants to these dudes, whatever he wants. He is going to tear these fools apart, and that includes Kira! Jesus, all these dudes trying to stay relevant on their way to the retirement home!
And somehow Noel and Kira are the ones hanging around?’
Graves snorted.
Twelve
Inside the conference room paced a man in a custom suit, his close cropped black hair slicked back as he paced back and forth. His eyes on the door of the room, and he looked through the glass walls. Outside stood three men in suits, clearly fighters of some sort as they watched the hallway.He was in a panic, he had called for backup but someone had cut off communications. He glanced at the huge man at his side, his muscled form barely hidden beneath his black suit. The other man was shaved bald, and a blonde goatee as he glared at the windows. The first man gestured angrily, almost yelling.
‘We need to get to the roof, maybe we can call for a chopper.’
‘You don’t think they have thought of that? We can’t call out.’ his companion answered in a faint German accent.
The man grunted, and then the door in the hallway beyond was kicked open. A man stalked inside, panting angrily as his face was twisted in a mask of rage. He reached upwards, tearing off his keffiyeh, and started to charge down the hallway. The big German glared, and then he saw one of his men pulled out his gun. The Sheik grabbed his arm, wrenching him sideways before he flung him hard into the glass wall. It shattered under the blow, and the man sprawled amidst the broken glass before the Sheik whirled to crack the pistol across the face of another.
The man staggered, and the Sheik leveled him with a quick suplex into the wall. Paneling cracked, and the man lay in a heap as the third guard drew a knife. He tossed it from hand to hand, and slashed at the Sheik. Blood flowed across his scarred chest, and the man stabbed again! The Sheik barely dodged aside, and drove his stiff fingers into the man’s throat. He fell gurgling at his feet, and the Sheik turned to stare through the broken glass at the two men inside. The man in the suit yelped, looking around in a panic as he backed up. But the big German growled as he walked forward, flinging off his jacket.
‘You killed my brother!’
The Sheik growled low in his throat, and leapt through the glass. His hands grabbed for the man’s throat, and the big German flung him around backwards. He threw him across the conference table, and his huge hands went for his throat. The Sheik gurgled as he was choked, and ripped backwards before flung hard into the wall. He felt a red wash of pain as his ribs shattered, but he forced himself to rise as the German ran at him! He drove a few hard knees into the head of the Sheik, dragging him upwards to fling him through a row of office chairs.
‘I will end you! Do you hear me?’
The business man was in a panic, looking around wildly as his big bodyguard fought against the man trying to murder him. He backed up again, and his eyes went to the downed guard’s pistol in the hallway! He started for it but was driven back as chairs were flung aside as the Sheik struggled back to his feet. The German snarled, and started throwing punches to batter the Sheik backwards! The Sheik was bleeding, and stumbled before the German grabbed his throat once more.
Then the Sheik’s hand snapped upwards, ripping his fingers across those blue eyes! The German staggered back grabbing at his face before the Sheik ducked low, flinging him across his shoulders to slam him hard into the conference table. It creaked, sliding to one side as the German rose with a shake of his head before the Sheik snapped quick blows across his face. Bone shattered and blood flowed, and then he flung him towards the outside window.
Then Sheik hit a quick thrust kick, and the German crashed through the window with a scream. He fell backwards, hitting the ground below with a loud wet thud. And then the Sheik stared at the business man, and his hand snapped upwards to grab his tie. He flung him across the table, his forearm across his throat as he snarled.
‘ 'urid aismahu!’
The man panted, shaking his head as he looked around wildly. His eyes bulged from his face, and he gasped for air as the Sheik pressed his arm down harder. He clawed at the flesh, and then he rasped the name.
The Sheik rose, and he spat as he started to go.
But the business man was not finished, he dove for the gun. And he came up with it in his hands, and the Sheik lunged at him. His hands grabbed the man’s head, fingers sinking into his eyes as his grip tightened. He gave a quick twist, and then his enemy went limp.
The Great King of Terror tossed him aside, and started for the stairs.
He had the feeling, that Donzig would not let this building stand much longer.
That was just who he was.