Post by Sentinel on Jan 18, 2015 8:57:16 GMT -6
Days removed from the recent Mayhem, the tour bus serving as a home-on-the-road to Sentinel, Talon and the rest of their loose-knit group is shown pulling into a long-term parking lot outside New Orleans, Louisiana. The brakes hiss loudly as the large vehicle comes to a stop and the side door opens. In order, Zachariah Blood, Lady Rayne, Talon and Sentinel, the latter carrying his daughter Cheyenne, get off the bus while a glimpse of Alex is shown as he sits behind the wheel. The Silent Destroyer’s features bear the marks of his brutal match with Vince Jones days prior, a fight that saw both men draw and spill blood from their opponent while putting their considerable power to use trying to turn each other into hamburger. There is no gentleness or reservation to his movement, though, save for the care with which he holds the little girl in his right arm.
In fact, he looks oddly content. Considering the last several weeks, that’s either impressive or delusional on his part.
There’s conversation, but we aren’t privy to it thanks to the volume of it compared to the peripheral noise of the highway nearby and all the traffic it’s bearing. Sentinel kneels down while Talon chats with Zachariah briefly, setting Cheyenne down and handing her a pink backpack. She gets up on her toes to give her daddy a kiss on the cheek before walking over to Aunt Rayne and taking her hand. Rayne smiles with surprising gentleness down at the little girl as Sentinel rises again, nodding to both her and Zachariah before getting back on the bus. Talon follows shortly after and the doors close behind them.
The bus pulls away as the scene briefly fades to black. The silence is quickly replaced by the hum of the bus’s engine, and the scene is set near the back of the vehicle just outside the main bedroom. It’s late-afternoon from the looks of things as Talon paces quietly in the passage outside the door, a phone held to her ear with a familiar voice speaking on the other end.
Shawn Crowe: ”…things seem to have calmed down a little for now. We’re just doing side work and that’s enough to keep the place going.”
Talon: ”That’s a good thing. You guys being in the thick of it all the time just seems like tempting fate.”
Shawn chuckles quietly to himself, prompting Talon to crack a small smile. She glances over her shoulder at the half-open bedroom door, which allows for a reasonably clear view of Sentinel on the bed within. Blankets covering him up to his bare abdomen, the Silent Destroyer’s eyes are closed and his breathing is rhythmic as he sleeps off the last few days. Looking relieved for a moment, Talon turns away from the door and continues her conversation.
Talon: ”What’s the word from Robert or Kage?”
Shawn Crowe: ”We’re supposed to meet up with them in a day or two. Lord knows this shit ain’t over despite what happened a few weeks ago. They want to take steps to make sure shit don’t get hairy again.”
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
Shawn Crowe: ”How soon till you two are back in town?”
Talon: ”A day or so, maybe. Rayne and Zachariah are going to take Cheyenne on a vacation with them to give Sentinel and I some quiet time alone. Things have been hard lately…”
Shawn Crowe: ”We ain’t been able to keep up for the most part, but I hear he’s been kicking some ass through the grapevine. And, ah…word is that he…you know…”
Talon’s bottom lip finds its way between her teeth. She immediately looks both nervous and afraid as she casts another glance over her shoulder at the sleeping giant.
Shawn Crowe: ”…you still there?”
Talon: ”I think so.”
One could imagine Shawn having a similar look on his face, just more masculine. It’s affected in his voice if nothing else.
Shawn Crowe: ”That’s not good. Not for what we talked about and not for anyone in front of him. What’re you going to do?”
Talon: ”What CAN I do other than what I’ve BEEN doing up to this point?!”
She doesn’t raise her voice, but Talon’s tone doesn’t need to be loud for the thrust of her words to get through. She’s on edge with Sentinel having effectively begun the process of breaking his silence. That it has already spread to his brothers in the Dead Men should say plenty.
Shawn Crowe: ”Just try and keep it up, sis. I ain’t gonna lie: y’all being this close to home when this meeting is going down with those two…it’s gonna be heady. Really gotta keep a lid on this situation for a bit longer…at least until we bring Robert around to our way of thinking.”
Talon: ”…I’ll take care of it, Shawn. Like I always do.”
Ending the phone, Talon tucks the phone into the pocket of her jeans and immediately folds her arms, clutching herself as though cold as her hands rub up and down the sleeves of her red sweater. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she walks away from the room though the view doesn’t follow her. Instead it stays centered on the bedroom and the now-open eyes of Sentinel as he watches her leave.
True to Talon’s estimate, it’s a little over a day later when she, Sentinel and Alex arrive at their Valley Forge home just beyond the North Carolina/Tennessee border. A special area has been set aside for the parking of the bus and that’s where it’s seen as the view returns from the black. Alex and Sentinel are pulling the cover over it to give a little extra protection from the elements before they head into the house. Sentinel stops off in the main garage en route, however, turning on the light in the two-vehicle building so that it shines down on both his truck and his Harley. It’s to the latter that he goes, taking a seat on it carefully and checking all the dials and gauges, a ritual he always goes through when he’s been away for a few days.
Except he also goes through the bags and storage compartments, too, making sure his gear is as he wants it. We see a brief glimpse of the same gun, the Browning HP-SFS, that he’d used during his first run since rejoining the Dead Men. He checks the clip, slips it back into place and cocks it, making sure it’s ready. Replacing it and closing the compartment, he heads into the house via the door leading into the kitchen, seeing Talon at the stove putting on a kettle and Alex shrugging out of his jacket. Sentinel hangs his on the hook by his brother-in-laws and claps his hand on the man’s shoulder before walking up behind Talon. She jumps a little when his large hands settle on her waist but relaxes considerably when he kisses her near the corner of her lips before moving off. She calls after him.
Talon: ”You want some coffee or dinner, baby? I need some real food after us having to eat out during the ride home.”
Alex: ”I second that. Just the thought of another burger makes me want to chuck.”
Sentinel can be heard to chuckle quietly at that comment, the depth and power of his rarely-heard voice apparent even in such a simple vocal gesture. However, he declines food or drink and instead heads off toward, presumably, the living room or bedroom. Talon looks after him as she gathers a couple mugs from the cabinet, then turns to Alex as he walks up.
Alex: ”Is he looking better to you?”
Talon: ”I think so, but it’s hard to tell right now. That match with Vince Jones didn’t help anything as far as I’m concerned, but he isn’t staring into mirrors with death in his eyes or having trouble with his balance so…maybe…”
Alex: ”…so maybe most of it was psychosomatic and the post-concussion symptoms have faded.”
Talon: ”God, I hope so. With Rayne and Zachariah taking Cheyenne for a couple weeks…”
Alex snickers and Talon swats his arm, making him laugh out loud.
Alex: ”I’m sorry, but it’s just hilarious to me how that sweet, innocent child is able to bring Zachariah out of his shell even a little.”
Rolling her eyes, yet not disagreeing, Talon resumes with a small smile on her face as she spoons some instant coffee into the two cups.
Talon: ”…him and I will have time to spend together to try and heal things. The stress is getting to us and I don’t want that to be a wedge that separates us. Anyway, why don’t you go grab a shower? I’m fine to cook on my own and maybe Sentinel will change his mind when he smells good food.”
Alex nods, giving his sister a reassuring hug before heading off in the same direction as Sentinel. The scene cuts to black and returns several hours later. A few are lights on, set to a dim level, in the house but other than that there’s no light to be had. There’s no mistaking the form of the Silent Destroyer, however, as he leans against the open door of the master bedroom. The sleeping form of Talon, beautiful in the dim light across the bed, looks both peaceful and beautiful. As he stares at her, the potency of the love he feels for her is all right there on his face and in his eyes. He steps forward, moving rather quietly for such a big hoss, and places an envelope with her name on it upon the nightstand where she’ll see it the moment she opens her eyes.
Then…he simply leaves. He walks down the hall, through the kitchen and into the garage, opening the door manually and wheeling his bike out before shutting it. Rolling it to the end of the driveway, he starts it up and heads down the dirt road leading to the highway, not even bothering with his helmet at this point. Tearing down the highway, his black hair blowing in the wind, we can see now in the passing headlights of other vehicles, rare as they are at this hour, that the Silent Destroyer is in his Dead Men cut.
The scene fades and picks up again outside the building containing the clubhouse. By now it’s early morning but there’s already several bikes and a couple of nice sedans parked in the lot, as well as lights on in the third-floor windows. Cut to that part of the building and the view changes to the chapel, where Shawn, Darius, Antonio, Frederick and Rory are holding court at the table with Kage and an older, well-dressed man of Asian descent who must be the aforementioned Robert Sasaki.
Kage: ”…they aren’t gonna let this shit go far as I can tell, boys, even though you put a shit-ton of their people in the hospital and the dirt.”
Robert Sasaki: ”They deserve what they get for their actions. People just can’t act lawlessly and expect to get away with it!”
Kage gestures to Robert as if to say he agrees which has a couple of the Dead Men staring at him and threatening the health of their kidneys by holding in uproarious laughter. Shawn, however, speaks up before the mirth can spill out.
Shawn Crowe: ”We don’t expect that they’ll stop, Robert, and that’s why we continue to keep an eye on things, as does Kage. Fact is, you’re good for this area, and we don’t want you feeling like you have to take off again like you did. But that’s not the only thing we need to talk about this morning.”
Those words have Kage tensing up and Robert looking a little affronted.
Robert Sasaki: ”I’m certain that I made it clear where it concerns HIS involvement. He’ll cause more problems than he solves and I don’t need any more complications!”
Kage: ”Ah, Robert…don’t ya think, y’know, maybe it’s time to cool it on that? How many years ago was it?”
Robert whirls on Kage, bearing down on the gangster-looking man hard enough that Kage puts up his hands and backs up a step. The rest of the Dead Men watch dispassionately.
Robert Sasaki: ”Why don’t you ask my son if I should ‘cool it’, you little parasite?! His grave’s a few miles away! I’ll have my driver take you there if you’re too addle-brained to find it!”
Shawn Crowe: ”That’s enough, you two.”
Robert Sasaki: ”I will not have my family’s sacrifice be marginalized!”
Shawn Crowe: ”No one’s trying to do that, Robert, but Kage makes a point and you know it. We need someone else in this who knows what these guys are capable of, whether you like it or not. It’s been a long time and maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet. Grudges are bad for business.”
The older man whirls on the Dead Men at the table, where his outburst is far less likely to have someone back off. Five serious faces all stare back at him. Even Rory, the joker of the bunch, isn’t in a jolly mood at this interlude.
Robert Sasaki: ”How can you say that and not be biased toward him because you allow him to be one of you?!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Because he’s rode with us since around that time, Robert, and we judge by action, by what we experience at the sides of one another. I get it: you blame him for what happened back then. Do you honestly think that he doesn't blame himself, too? Do you think you’re the only one suffering?”
Kage turns to the window as though he heard something, but shrugs it off and turns back to the rest of them, now keeping his distance from the conversation.
Robert Sasaki: ”He didn’t lose someone! I did!”
Shawn Crowe: ”So the fact that they were friends for years means nothing? Now you’re being selfish.”
It’s a surprise to all involved that the veins in Robert’s neck haven’t burst through his flesh by now. And Shawn’s direct way of addressing things isn’t helping by the looks of things.
Shawn Crowe: ”We’re keeping him out of this at your request. But we won’t stand for you badmouthing one of our brothers. You need to understand that.”
Robert Sasaki: ”You have no right!”
The first door opening in the other room draws a pause. When the chapel door is opened, however, everyone’s breath catches in their throat. Kage’s hand goes to his face and the rest of the Dead Men, including Shawn, suddenly become ill-at-ease. Robert, however, looks as though he’s seen a demon manifest before him, his eyes widening considerably. Sentinel, standing before the lot of them, first looks to his brothers, then to Kage, then to Robert, each in turn. It’s hard to read his reaction just by his expression but there’s absolutely no mistaking the glare in his eyes.
Kage: ”’Keeping him out of this’, ya said?”
Shawn Crowe: ”…brother, just hold on a minute.”
Robert Sasaki: ”You!”
Robert pushes past Kage, who tries unsuccessfully to keep him from walking up on the Silent Destroyer. He gets right up in…well, not the face. He’s a bit too short to be going eye to eye with the Silence Behind the Violence. But he’s right there in front of him, fuming to a point where he’s practically frothing at the mouth in anger.
Robert Sasaki: ”How dare you show your face around here?!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Robert, sit the fuck down, man! This ain’t the time or place!”
Robert Sasaki: ”That you still BREATHE is an affront to his memory! Have you no shame?!”
Before anyone can properly react to what’s happening, though Shawn is on his feet almost the second it occurs and Kage is trying to get to Robert just a second or two too late, Robert brings up his right arm and backhands Sentinel across the face. The heavy ring on that hand assists pretty well with the blow, which turns Sentinel’s head a bit from the impact. It’s still a business man striking a hulk of a tower of a man and Sentinel essentially stonewalls the shot, but it’s still a slap in the face, figuratively and literally.
The room goes dead quiet even as Kage pulls Robert back by the arm, trying to get between him and Sentinel while the rest of the Dead Men are on their feet in case they have to pry Robert out of the Silent Destroyer’s grip. It doesn’t appear necessary at first. Sentinel turns back, rubbing his jaw slightly and staring down at Robert. The silence and the stare are enough to cause the man to rip away from Kage and storm forward again, his arm raised once more. This time, Sentinel grabs him at the wrist before he swings, shaking his head.
Robert Sasaki: ”Let go of me, you bastard!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Don’t do it, brother…it’s not worth it. Let’s just…just talk this out. We can explain everything.”
Kage: ”Dude, seriously…let ‘im go. You don’t gotta-“
Sentinel: ”Shut up!”
Robert is the only one not fazed by Sentinel actually speaking, probably because he’s hopped up on anger and trying to wrench his arm out of the man’s grip. Kage does as he’s asked and the rest of the Dead Men hang back. Sentinel, after yanking Robert forward via his grip, stares him in the eye as he speaks again. His already-deep voice resonates more powerfully now, a by-product of his effort not to blow up.
Sentinel: ”You do not have the right to judge me.”
Robert Sasaki: ”I said let go, damn you!”
Sentinel does just that, but as Robert was already wrenching back he almost lands on his ass, instead falling into the table around which the Dead Men sat. He rights himself quickly, staring daggers at Sentinel who stares right back. Kage, finally able to get through to Robert, ushers him out of the room while mouthing over his shoulder at Shawn to ‘do something’ about the situation. Robert is still raging even as they head down the steps, leaving the six club members alone in the chapel.
Tension? Plenty of it. Silence? Uncomfortable at best. Shawn, being the one in charge of things, is the one to step forward.
Shawn Crowe: ”I know you want answers, brother, and you’re entitled to that. But I need you to be cool, all right?”
Sentinel: ”Cool?”
Looking over the rest of the room, Sentinel shakes his head slowly.
Sentinel: ”There is no ‘cool’. You lied to me. You asked my wife to lie to me. You let this club dip into my personal business without allowing me the choice of involvement, despite knowing it might finally offer me some peace.”
Shawn Crowe: ”It’s business, brother! Robert was footing the bill and he got to pick the terms! You think we didn’t try to get him to change his mind?! You think that little of us?”
Sentinel: ”Don’t…”
His deep voice takes on a considerable chill.
Sentinel: ”…try and turn this against me. Every one of you knows my history with Robert and his family. This is a betrayal by all concerned.”
He turns, intending to walk out of the room, only to be stopped by Shawn grabbing hold of his arm and turning him around. Far bigger than Robert but not quite Sentinel’s size, the president of the Dead Men was more than capable of looking the Silent Destroyer in the eye…even if it didn’t seem like the best idea at the moment.
Shawn Crowe: ”No, brother. You bring your ass back in here so we can talk about this…settle things. We don’t need bad blood getting in the way of business or brotherhood. That’s not how we do things.”
Calmly pulling his arm free, Sentinel just stares at Shawn, looking somewhat sad at this point.
Sentinel: ”Then you sure had me fooled.”
This time, they don’t try to stop him as he walks out of the chapel and eventually out of the building. They can hear his Harley start up and roar off clear as day, but none of them seem able to move to speak or do anything about it. Shawn takes to leaning against the door with both hands on the wall while the rest of the club is at a loss for just how to react. Finally the vice president speaks up.
Antonio Murond: ”Someone get Kage on the horn. We can’t let this shit settle. Rory, you take Frederick and do a ride-through…see what there is to see. Darius…”
The big black man gets up from his chair and heads for the door. Antonio rises as if to pursue but Darius waves him off.
Darius Edwards: ”Cool it, brother. I’ll go pick up breakfast. Ain’t gonna be thinkin’ right without it.”
He walks past Crowe with a reassuring look given the president, who now returns to the table, retaking his seat. The others look to him for several moments before he looks back, his voice quiet yet intense.
Shawn Crowe: ”You got your instructions. Be back here in an hour.”
The group, including Antonio, leaves Shawn sitting at the head of the table. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and his manner shows it in all ways. Yet another fade to black, and the next thing we see is Sentinel, alone, leaning against his bike as it’s parked on the side of the road. Not at a rest stop or the like, or even at some out-of-the-way roadside diner, just…off on the shoulder of some country back road between Tennessee and Colorado. He’s leaned up against the Road King, staring off into space, while the stationary camera records his presence.
Presently, he retrieves from one of the bike’s saddlebags his polished black ocarina, looking it over appraisingly before bringing it to his lips and starting to play. It takes a moment for the melody to make sense, but fans of classic rock will recognize it easily enough as the opening portion of Guns N’ Roses’ “Patience”, the part typically whistled. It isn’t a long piece and soon he lowers the instrument and stares at it again, looking more relaxed but still ill-at-ease. His attention alights on the camera at last as he cradles the instrument in his right hand.
Sentinel: ”Most people will never understand how it feels to do what I’m doing right now.”
To what he refers needs no explanation. Calmly, Sentinel puts the ocarina back in the saddlebag and returns his attention to the camera.
Sentinel: ”I’m going to keep this simple, Pauly, because after the number of matches we’ve had there isn’t much left to say. Wasting time waxing poetic, making threats and all that…it serves no purpose. You know what I’m about and I know what you’re about. Why complicate things?”
Pushing some hair away from his face, Sentinel laughs quietly to himself. Then he holds up two fingers for the camera and presumably Pauly to see.
Sentinel: ”Two one-on-one matches. Two wins. I don’t have to qualify my confidence in my ability to beat you again. You on the other hand, have to convince the world that you’re capable of beating me. It is on your shoulders to make people, especially myself, believe that this time will be different, that the third time will be the charm. But I’m confident that you’ll think of something. Your hard-headed, hot-blooded Irish soul won’t allow anything less. With five weeks remaining till Tragic Engagement, it’s crunch time. Every match matters. One mistake…”
He snaps his fingers sharply, violently breaking the natural silence for a moment.
Sentinel: ”…and dreams will die. And as my world closes in around me, I feel the crushing necessity of holding onto what is true, to what is real, in my life. I question whether I can trust my brothers, my friends…and even my wife, though it hurts to say that.”
Thick arms are folded across his chest, his expression becoming stony and severe. Couple the pressure of his personal and professional life along with the uncertainty of speaking for himself for the first time in what feels like forever…and it’s easy to see why the big man is so tense.
Sentinel: ”But I can trust in myself. I can believe in my prowess in a wrestling ring and my ability to acquire that coveted title shot. Getting through Jeszika Gautier is another matter, but that’s a bridge to be crossed only at the proper time. You, Pauly, come first. I don’t look down on or judge you for the company you keep nor am I allowing past encounters to color my perception of what’s to come. You’re a fighter to the last breath. I respect that kind of drive.
That’s why I have to shut you down. It’s about proving myself to me more than points or titles because, as I said, I’m confident about those things. Seeing the world crumble around you makes a man question things. Questions lead to doubt. Doubt causes him to lose a step, become less sharp. That’s the only opening someone like you, Pauly, needs to snatch victory from defeat. You see why I can’t let that happen, even against a man I’ve twice laid low.”
It seems like the more Sentinel speaks, the easier it becomes. But an underlying tension resonates beneath every spoken word.
Sentinel: ”Silver Baron, a constant presence in the title picture near the top of the card. Vince Jones, a long-reigning champion and a dangerous fighter. Joshua McBride, a psychological master who preys on weakness ruthlessly. And, of course, you, Pauly. You have one thing in common: since my return, I’ve defeated each of you. Which begs the question of why I would doubt myself at all since that goes against my trust in my personal ability?
Call it the necessity to keep improving. Beating the cream of the UWA’s crop is well and good, but professional wrestling itself is a gambler’s paradise. Success requires greater success to satisfy. I’m sure that’s been said by someone before. And in my eyes, I haven’t succeeded here until that World Heavyweight Championship is strapped around my waist. Every match, every show, has to be treated as though the belt were on the line. That rings true now more than ever in this final stretch.”
The understated smile is back.
Sentinel: ”Talon said as much upon our return: it’s the big belt or bust. We said it before you and I clashed last time. We’ll be saying it until the champion lays beaten at my feet and that gold strap is over this shoulder.”
He slaps his left shoulder firmly, the clapping sound echoing a bit in the wooded area by the road.
Sentinel: ”Devotion to the point of obsession. A single-minded focus on the ultimate goal coupled with the presence of mind to recognize and destroy any obstructions in my way. The more obstacles that get thrown in my way, the harder I’m going to push. I want you to be one of those obstacles, Pauly. I want…no, I need you to make me believe that you can defeat me, that you can put a stop to my ambition and put the fear of loss into my head.
I crave that sensation. It’s fuel for the fire that pushes this engine of destruction. And by the time I step into that ring with the title on the line, it needs to be white hot and bright enough to snuff out the sun. Or…”
Looking thoughtful, Sentinel takes a breath and shrugs.
Sentinel: ”…you could just do what you always do. Clock’s ticking, Pauly. Don’t keep destiny waiting.”
He walks forward, removing the camera from its perch and shutting it off, bringing a sudden black to the proceedings.
In fact, he looks oddly content. Considering the last several weeks, that’s either impressive or delusional on his part.
There’s conversation, but we aren’t privy to it thanks to the volume of it compared to the peripheral noise of the highway nearby and all the traffic it’s bearing. Sentinel kneels down while Talon chats with Zachariah briefly, setting Cheyenne down and handing her a pink backpack. She gets up on her toes to give her daddy a kiss on the cheek before walking over to Aunt Rayne and taking her hand. Rayne smiles with surprising gentleness down at the little girl as Sentinel rises again, nodding to both her and Zachariah before getting back on the bus. Talon follows shortly after and the doors close behind them.
The bus pulls away as the scene briefly fades to black. The silence is quickly replaced by the hum of the bus’s engine, and the scene is set near the back of the vehicle just outside the main bedroom. It’s late-afternoon from the looks of things as Talon paces quietly in the passage outside the door, a phone held to her ear with a familiar voice speaking on the other end.
Shawn Crowe: ”…things seem to have calmed down a little for now. We’re just doing side work and that’s enough to keep the place going.”
Talon: ”That’s a good thing. You guys being in the thick of it all the time just seems like tempting fate.”
Shawn chuckles quietly to himself, prompting Talon to crack a small smile. She glances over her shoulder at the half-open bedroom door, which allows for a reasonably clear view of Sentinel on the bed within. Blankets covering him up to his bare abdomen, the Silent Destroyer’s eyes are closed and his breathing is rhythmic as he sleeps off the last few days. Looking relieved for a moment, Talon turns away from the door and continues her conversation.
Talon: ”What’s the word from Robert or Kage?”
Shawn Crowe: ”We’re supposed to meet up with them in a day or two. Lord knows this shit ain’t over despite what happened a few weeks ago. They want to take steps to make sure shit don’t get hairy again.”
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
Shawn Crowe: ”How soon till you two are back in town?”
Talon: ”A day or so, maybe. Rayne and Zachariah are going to take Cheyenne on a vacation with them to give Sentinel and I some quiet time alone. Things have been hard lately…”
Shawn Crowe: ”We ain’t been able to keep up for the most part, but I hear he’s been kicking some ass through the grapevine. And, ah…word is that he…you know…”
Talon’s bottom lip finds its way between her teeth. She immediately looks both nervous and afraid as she casts another glance over her shoulder at the sleeping giant.
Shawn Crowe: ”…you still there?”
Talon: ”I think so.”
One could imagine Shawn having a similar look on his face, just more masculine. It’s affected in his voice if nothing else.
Shawn Crowe: ”That’s not good. Not for what we talked about and not for anyone in front of him. What’re you going to do?”
Talon: ”What CAN I do other than what I’ve BEEN doing up to this point?!”
She doesn’t raise her voice, but Talon’s tone doesn’t need to be loud for the thrust of her words to get through. She’s on edge with Sentinel having effectively begun the process of breaking his silence. That it has already spread to his brothers in the Dead Men should say plenty.
Shawn Crowe: ”Just try and keep it up, sis. I ain’t gonna lie: y’all being this close to home when this meeting is going down with those two…it’s gonna be heady. Really gotta keep a lid on this situation for a bit longer…at least until we bring Robert around to our way of thinking.”
Talon: ”…I’ll take care of it, Shawn. Like I always do.”
Ending the phone, Talon tucks the phone into the pocket of her jeans and immediately folds her arms, clutching herself as though cold as her hands rub up and down the sleeves of her red sweater. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she walks away from the room though the view doesn’t follow her. Instead it stays centered on the bedroom and the now-open eyes of Sentinel as he watches her leave.
True to Talon’s estimate, it’s a little over a day later when she, Sentinel and Alex arrive at their Valley Forge home just beyond the North Carolina/Tennessee border. A special area has been set aside for the parking of the bus and that’s where it’s seen as the view returns from the black. Alex and Sentinel are pulling the cover over it to give a little extra protection from the elements before they head into the house. Sentinel stops off in the main garage en route, however, turning on the light in the two-vehicle building so that it shines down on both his truck and his Harley. It’s to the latter that he goes, taking a seat on it carefully and checking all the dials and gauges, a ritual he always goes through when he’s been away for a few days.
Except he also goes through the bags and storage compartments, too, making sure his gear is as he wants it. We see a brief glimpse of the same gun, the Browning HP-SFS, that he’d used during his first run since rejoining the Dead Men. He checks the clip, slips it back into place and cocks it, making sure it’s ready. Replacing it and closing the compartment, he heads into the house via the door leading into the kitchen, seeing Talon at the stove putting on a kettle and Alex shrugging out of his jacket. Sentinel hangs his on the hook by his brother-in-laws and claps his hand on the man’s shoulder before walking up behind Talon. She jumps a little when his large hands settle on her waist but relaxes considerably when he kisses her near the corner of her lips before moving off. She calls after him.
Talon: ”You want some coffee or dinner, baby? I need some real food after us having to eat out during the ride home.”
Alex: ”I second that. Just the thought of another burger makes me want to chuck.”
Sentinel can be heard to chuckle quietly at that comment, the depth and power of his rarely-heard voice apparent even in such a simple vocal gesture. However, he declines food or drink and instead heads off toward, presumably, the living room or bedroom. Talon looks after him as she gathers a couple mugs from the cabinet, then turns to Alex as he walks up.
Alex: ”Is he looking better to you?”
Talon: ”I think so, but it’s hard to tell right now. That match with Vince Jones didn’t help anything as far as I’m concerned, but he isn’t staring into mirrors with death in his eyes or having trouble with his balance so…maybe…”
Alex: ”…so maybe most of it was psychosomatic and the post-concussion symptoms have faded.”
Talon: ”God, I hope so. With Rayne and Zachariah taking Cheyenne for a couple weeks…”
Alex snickers and Talon swats his arm, making him laugh out loud.
Alex: ”I’m sorry, but it’s just hilarious to me how that sweet, innocent child is able to bring Zachariah out of his shell even a little.”
Rolling her eyes, yet not disagreeing, Talon resumes with a small smile on her face as she spoons some instant coffee into the two cups.
Talon: ”…him and I will have time to spend together to try and heal things. The stress is getting to us and I don’t want that to be a wedge that separates us. Anyway, why don’t you go grab a shower? I’m fine to cook on my own and maybe Sentinel will change his mind when he smells good food.”
Alex nods, giving his sister a reassuring hug before heading off in the same direction as Sentinel. The scene cuts to black and returns several hours later. A few are lights on, set to a dim level, in the house but other than that there’s no light to be had. There’s no mistaking the form of the Silent Destroyer, however, as he leans against the open door of the master bedroom. The sleeping form of Talon, beautiful in the dim light across the bed, looks both peaceful and beautiful. As he stares at her, the potency of the love he feels for her is all right there on his face and in his eyes. He steps forward, moving rather quietly for such a big hoss, and places an envelope with her name on it upon the nightstand where she’ll see it the moment she opens her eyes.
Then…he simply leaves. He walks down the hall, through the kitchen and into the garage, opening the door manually and wheeling his bike out before shutting it. Rolling it to the end of the driveway, he starts it up and heads down the dirt road leading to the highway, not even bothering with his helmet at this point. Tearing down the highway, his black hair blowing in the wind, we can see now in the passing headlights of other vehicles, rare as they are at this hour, that the Silent Destroyer is in his Dead Men cut.
The scene fades and picks up again outside the building containing the clubhouse. By now it’s early morning but there’s already several bikes and a couple of nice sedans parked in the lot, as well as lights on in the third-floor windows. Cut to that part of the building and the view changes to the chapel, where Shawn, Darius, Antonio, Frederick and Rory are holding court at the table with Kage and an older, well-dressed man of Asian descent who must be the aforementioned Robert Sasaki.
Kage: ”…they aren’t gonna let this shit go far as I can tell, boys, even though you put a shit-ton of their people in the hospital and the dirt.”
Robert Sasaki: ”They deserve what they get for their actions. People just can’t act lawlessly and expect to get away with it!”
Kage gestures to Robert as if to say he agrees which has a couple of the Dead Men staring at him and threatening the health of their kidneys by holding in uproarious laughter. Shawn, however, speaks up before the mirth can spill out.
Shawn Crowe: ”We don’t expect that they’ll stop, Robert, and that’s why we continue to keep an eye on things, as does Kage. Fact is, you’re good for this area, and we don’t want you feeling like you have to take off again like you did. But that’s not the only thing we need to talk about this morning.”
Those words have Kage tensing up and Robert looking a little affronted.
Robert Sasaki: ”I’m certain that I made it clear where it concerns HIS involvement. He’ll cause more problems than he solves and I don’t need any more complications!”
Kage: ”Ah, Robert…don’t ya think, y’know, maybe it’s time to cool it on that? How many years ago was it?”
Robert whirls on Kage, bearing down on the gangster-looking man hard enough that Kage puts up his hands and backs up a step. The rest of the Dead Men watch dispassionately.
Robert Sasaki: ”Why don’t you ask my son if I should ‘cool it’, you little parasite?! His grave’s a few miles away! I’ll have my driver take you there if you’re too addle-brained to find it!”
Shawn Crowe: ”That’s enough, you two.”
Robert Sasaki: ”I will not have my family’s sacrifice be marginalized!”
Shawn Crowe: ”No one’s trying to do that, Robert, but Kage makes a point and you know it. We need someone else in this who knows what these guys are capable of, whether you like it or not. It’s been a long time and maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet. Grudges are bad for business.”
The older man whirls on the Dead Men at the table, where his outburst is far less likely to have someone back off. Five serious faces all stare back at him. Even Rory, the joker of the bunch, isn’t in a jolly mood at this interlude.
Robert Sasaki: ”How can you say that and not be biased toward him because you allow him to be one of you?!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Because he’s rode with us since around that time, Robert, and we judge by action, by what we experience at the sides of one another. I get it: you blame him for what happened back then. Do you honestly think that he doesn't blame himself, too? Do you think you’re the only one suffering?”
Kage turns to the window as though he heard something, but shrugs it off and turns back to the rest of them, now keeping his distance from the conversation.
Robert Sasaki: ”He didn’t lose someone! I did!”
Shawn Crowe: ”So the fact that they were friends for years means nothing? Now you’re being selfish.”
It’s a surprise to all involved that the veins in Robert’s neck haven’t burst through his flesh by now. And Shawn’s direct way of addressing things isn’t helping by the looks of things.
Shawn Crowe: ”We’re keeping him out of this at your request. But we won’t stand for you badmouthing one of our brothers. You need to understand that.”
Robert Sasaki: ”You have no right!”
The first door opening in the other room draws a pause. When the chapel door is opened, however, everyone’s breath catches in their throat. Kage’s hand goes to his face and the rest of the Dead Men, including Shawn, suddenly become ill-at-ease. Robert, however, looks as though he’s seen a demon manifest before him, his eyes widening considerably. Sentinel, standing before the lot of them, first looks to his brothers, then to Kage, then to Robert, each in turn. It’s hard to read his reaction just by his expression but there’s absolutely no mistaking the glare in his eyes.
Kage: ”’Keeping him out of this’, ya said?”
Shawn Crowe: ”…brother, just hold on a minute.”
Robert Sasaki: ”You!”
Robert pushes past Kage, who tries unsuccessfully to keep him from walking up on the Silent Destroyer. He gets right up in…well, not the face. He’s a bit too short to be going eye to eye with the Silence Behind the Violence. But he’s right there in front of him, fuming to a point where he’s practically frothing at the mouth in anger.
Robert Sasaki: ”How dare you show your face around here?!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Robert, sit the fuck down, man! This ain’t the time or place!”
Robert Sasaki: ”That you still BREATHE is an affront to his memory! Have you no shame?!”
Before anyone can properly react to what’s happening, though Shawn is on his feet almost the second it occurs and Kage is trying to get to Robert just a second or two too late, Robert brings up his right arm and backhands Sentinel across the face. The heavy ring on that hand assists pretty well with the blow, which turns Sentinel’s head a bit from the impact. It’s still a business man striking a hulk of a tower of a man and Sentinel essentially stonewalls the shot, but it’s still a slap in the face, figuratively and literally.
The room goes dead quiet even as Kage pulls Robert back by the arm, trying to get between him and Sentinel while the rest of the Dead Men are on their feet in case they have to pry Robert out of the Silent Destroyer’s grip. It doesn’t appear necessary at first. Sentinel turns back, rubbing his jaw slightly and staring down at Robert. The silence and the stare are enough to cause the man to rip away from Kage and storm forward again, his arm raised once more. This time, Sentinel grabs him at the wrist before he swings, shaking his head.
Robert Sasaki: ”Let go of me, you bastard!”
Shawn Crowe: ”Don’t do it, brother…it’s not worth it. Let’s just…just talk this out. We can explain everything.”
Kage: ”Dude, seriously…let ‘im go. You don’t gotta-“
Sentinel: ”Shut up!”
Robert is the only one not fazed by Sentinel actually speaking, probably because he’s hopped up on anger and trying to wrench his arm out of the man’s grip. Kage does as he’s asked and the rest of the Dead Men hang back. Sentinel, after yanking Robert forward via his grip, stares him in the eye as he speaks again. His already-deep voice resonates more powerfully now, a by-product of his effort not to blow up.
Sentinel: ”You do not have the right to judge me.”
Robert Sasaki: ”I said let go, damn you!”
Sentinel does just that, but as Robert was already wrenching back he almost lands on his ass, instead falling into the table around which the Dead Men sat. He rights himself quickly, staring daggers at Sentinel who stares right back. Kage, finally able to get through to Robert, ushers him out of the room while mouthing over his shoulder at Shawn to ‘do something’ about the situation. Robert is still raging even as they head down the steps, leaving the six club members alone in the chapel.
Tension? Plenty of it. Silence? Uncomfortable at best. Shawn, being the one in charge of things, is the one to step forward.
Shawn Crowe: ”I know you want answers, brother, and you’re entitled to that. But I need you to be cool, all right?”
Sentinel: ”Cool?”
Looking over the rest of the room, Sentinel shakes his head slowly.
Sentinel: ”There is no ‘cool’. You lied to me. You asked my wife to lie to me. You let this club dip into my personal business without allowing me the choice of involvement, despite knowing it might finally offer me some peace.”
Shawn Crowe: ”It’s business, brother! Robert was footing the bill and he got to pick the terms! You think we didn’t try to get him to change his mind?! You think that little of us?”
Sentinel: ”Don’t…”
His deep voice takes on a considerable chill.
Sentinel: ”…try and turn this against me. Every one of you knows my history with Robert and his family. This is a betrayal by all concerned.”
He turns, intending to walk out of the room, only to be stopped by Shawn grabbing hold of his arm and turning him around. Far bigger than Robert but not quite Sentinel’s size, the president of the Dead Men was more than capable of looking the Silent Destroyer in the eye…even if it didn’t seem like the best idea at the moment.
Shawn Crowe: ”No, brother. You bring your ass back in here so we can talk about this…settle things. We don’t need bad blood getting in the way of business or brotherhood. That’s not how we do things.”
Calmly pulling his arm free, Sentinel just stares at Shawn, looking somewhat sad at this point.
Sentinel: ”Then you sure had me fooled.”
This time, they don’t try to stop him as he walks out of the chapel and eventually out of the building. They can hear his Harley start up and roar off clear as day, but none of them seem able to move to speak or do anything about it. Shawn takes to leaning against the door with both hands on the wall while the rest of the club is at a loss for just how to react. Finally the vice president speaks up.
Antonio Murond: ”Someone get Kage on the horn. We can’t let this shit settle. Rory, you take Frederick and do a ride-through…see what there is to see. Darius…”
The big black man gets up from his chair and heads for the door. Antonio rises as if to pursue but Darius waves him off.
Darius Edwards: ”Cool it, brother. I’ll go pick up breakfast. Ain’t gonna be thinkin’ right without it.”
He walks past Crowe with a reassuring look given the president, who now returns to the table, retaking his seat. The others look to him for several moments before he looks back, his voice quiet yet intense.
Shawn Crowe: ”You got your instructions. Be back here in an hour.”
The group, including Antonio, leaves Shawn sitting at the head of the table. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and his manner shows it in all ways. Yet another fade to black, and the next thing we see is Sentinel, alone, leaning against his bike as it’s parked on the side of the road. Not at a rest stop or the like, or even at some out-of-the-way roadside diner, just…off on the shoulder of some country back road between Tennessee and Colorado. He’s leaned up against the Road King, staring off into space, while the stationary camera records his presence.
Presently, he retrieves from one of the bike’s saddlebags his polished black ocarina, looking it over appraisingly before bringing it to his lips and starting to play. It takes a moment for the melody to make sense, but fans of classic rock will recognize it easily enough as the opening portion of Guns N’ Roses’ “Patience”, the part typically whistled. It isn’t a long piece and soon he lowers the instrument and stares at it again, looking more relaxed but still ill-at-ease. His attention alights on the camera at last as he cradles the instrument in his right hand.
Sentinel: ”Most people will never understand how it feels to do what I’m doing right now.”
To what he refers needs no explanation. Calmly, Sentinel puts the ocarina back in the saddlebag and returns his attention to the camera.
Sentinel: ”I’m going to keep this simple, Pauly, because after the number of matches we’ve had there isn’t much left to say. Wasting time waxing poetic, making threats and all that…it serves no purpose. You know what I’m about and I know what you’re about. Why complicate things?”
Pushing some hair away from his face, Sentinel laughs quietly to himself. Then he holds up two fingers for the camera and presumably Pauly to see.
Sentinel: ”Two one-on-one matches. Two wins. I don’t have to qualify my confidence in my ability to beat you again. You on the other hand, have to convince the world that you’re capable of beating me. It is on your shoulders to make people, especially myself, believe that this time will be different, that the third time will be the charm. But I’m confident that you’ll think of something. Your hard-headed, hot-blooded Irish soul won’t allow anything less. With five weeks remaining till Tragic Engagement, it’s crunch time. Every match matters. One mistake…”
He snaps his fingers sharply, violently breaking the natural silence for a moment.
Sentinel: ”…and dreams will die. And as my world closes in around me, I feel the crushing necessity of holding onto what is true, to what is real, in my life. I question whether I can trust my brothers, my friends…and even my wife, though it hurts to say that.”
Thick arms are folded across his chest, his expression becoming stony and severe. Couple the pressure of his personal and professional life along with the uncertainty of speaking for himself for the first time in what feels like forever…and it’s easy to see why the big man is so tense.
Sentinel: ”But I can trust in myself. I can believe in my prowess in a wrestling ring and my ability to acquire that coveted title shot. Getting through Jeszika Gautier is another matter, but that’s a bridge to be crossed only at the proper time. You, Pauly, come first. I don’t look down on or judge you for the company you keep nor am I allowing past encounters to color my perception of what’s to come. You’re a fighter to the last breath. I respect that kind of drive.
That’s why I have to shut you down. It’s about proving myself to me more than points or titles because, as I said, I’m confident about those things. Seeing the world crumble around you makes a man question things. Questions lead to doubt. Doubt causes him to lose a step, become less sharp. That’s the only opening someone like you, Pauly, needs to snatch victory from defeat. You see why I can’t let that happen, even against a man I’ve twice laid low.”
It seems like the more Sentinel speaks, the easier it becomes. But an underlying tension resonates beneath every spoken word.
Sentinel: ”Silver Baron, a constant presence in the title picture near the top of the card. Vince Jones, a long-reigning champion and a dangerous fighter. Joshua McBride, a psychological master who preys on weakness ruthlessly. And, of course, you, Pauly. You have one thing in common: since my return, I’ve defeated each of you. Which begs the question of why I would doubt myself at all since that goes against my trust in my personal ability?
Call it the necessity to keep improving. Beating the cream of the UWA’s crop is well and good, but professional wrestling itself is a gambler’s paradise. Success requires greater success to satisfy. I’m sure that’s been said by someone before. And in my eyes, I haven’t succeeded here until that World Heavyweight Championship is strapped around my waist. Every match, every show, has to be treated as though the belt were on the line. That rings true now more than ever in this final stretch.”
The understated smile is back.
Sentinel: ”Talon said as much upon our return: it’s the big belt or bust. We said it before you and I clashed last time. We’ll be saying it until the champion lays beaten at my feet and that gold strap is over this shoulder.”
He slaps his left shoulder firmly, the clapping sound echoing a bit in the wooded area by the road.
Sentinel: ”Devotion to the point of obsession. A single-minded focus on the ultimate goal coupled with the presence of mind to recognize and destroy any obstructions in my way. The more obstacles that get thrown in my way, the harder I’m going to push. I want you to be one of those obstacles, Pauly. I want…no, I need you to make me believe that you can defeat me, that you can put a stop to my ambition and put the fear of loss into my head.
I crave that sensation. It’s fuel for the fire that pushes this engine of destruction. And by the time I step into that ring with the title on the line, it needs to be white hot and bright enough to snuff out the sun. Or…”
Looking thoughtful, Sentinel takes a breath and shrugs.
Sentinel: ”…you could just do what you always do. Clock’s ticking, Pauly. Don’t keep destiny waiting.”
He walks forward, removing the camera from its perch and shutting it off, bringing a sudden black to the proceedings.
