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All or nothing
Topic Started: Jan 5 2017, 04:51 AM (16 Views)
gallagher_59
CG3
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The night was calm as Ironclad and other members of his club, Snakes and Doc head to a place called the Alamo, to check out new territory for expansion. The group finally arrives to their destination and look around in approval.


Ironclad: Oceanview property in Texas, not a bad situation


Snakes: Yeah you can work on that tan of yours now you pasty bastard.


Doc: Fuck you Snakes, how about I show your wife what a pasty bastard looks like


Ironclad: Enough, were here on business. Besides I had Snakes wife last night, she's not that good. Talks too much.

Located in a converted two-story residence, the Alamo was about a quarter mile from the city’s oceanfront boardwalk. Two bouncers flanked the front door, making eye contact with the group as they walked in.

Looking around, the guys noticed a stage at the far end of the bar for live acts, and a TV over the counter that is used for showing old boxing films. Also a long bar ran down the right-hand side of the first floor. Ironclad warned his guys previously to keep a somewhat low-key presence there, but to wear the Hells Angels colors when they arrived at the destination. But, colors or no colors, Ironclad drew attention wherever he went.


While the guys were taking in the scenery, and drinking word got out that another outlaw motorcycle gang was coming to the same club incognito. Pagans, Outlaws, Bandidos and other outlaw biker gangs were not welcome in any of the area's clubs apparently. But that never stopped Ironclad, he took calculated risks that always paid off. He looked at his crew in the eyes


Ironclad: All or nothing boys, be ready to defend our turf.


This was, unfortunately, the Warlocks territory, and it was rare for another club to frequent rivals turf unannounced. When another gang came into another territory, it was up to the local club’s members to take care of business. It was a simple, and oftentimes brutal, gang rule that left some bikers with permanent scars, or worse


Ironclad, Snakes and Doc glanced at each other and knew shit was gonna go down.Doc was well versed in hand to hand combat, as he was a former Golden Gloves boxer. Snakes carried a couple pistols on him at all times. Snakes wasn't as big as the others, but was a dead shot. Ironclad had a pair of brass knuckles,and a thick blade buck knife. The well-used buck knife that hung from his thick leather belt told another story of frequent combat with other men; Ironclad was a skillful knife fighter. Oddly, Ironclad was also known for always showing up on time; he kept his watch 10 minutes ahead of the actual time.

Soon five legit-looking bikers walked through the door giving the Angles the once-over. It looked like a mix between Warlocks and Breed. But they weren’t weekend warriors; they were real. Both sides kept it peaceful inside the club. Since things were quiet, at least for the moment, Ironclad,began chatting up a blonde at the bar. Shortly before closing time, the five mystery bikers quietly walked out. Doc and Snakes followed them. Ironclad walked out a few seconds later, after saying goodnight to the woman.

By the time Ironclad cleared the door, a full-scale street brawl was already underway as Doc and Snakes fought with the gang of five. There was diagonal parking out in front of the Alamo that was normally packed with cars and people. But at this late hour, the parking spots and tree-lined street were empty—and that’s where the fight was happening.

Ironclad jumped in and pulled his buck knife from its sheath and slashed one of the mystery bikers across the face. Snakes grabbed a piece of a wooden barricade—the kind used by police for crowd control—and fiercely swung it at two of the others, taking them both down.


Ironclad turned around, intent on taking out one of the two bikers still standing. Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, this dude wasn’t particularly big. But he looked like a tough guy, a thug, and I got the sense that he knew how to use the long butchers knife in his right hand. Calm and focused, he stood staring at me.

As soon as Ironclad came within striking distance, he lunged at him with the knife, aiming for his face. Ironclad jerked his body back to avoid the thrust, just as one of the other bikers careened into his shoulder and fell to the side. Ironclad threw an adrenaline-laced overhand right that caught the guy attacker on the bridge of his nose. The impact caused his nose to virtually explode, shattering the soft cartilage and sending blood everywhere.

The attacker lunged at Ironclad again, but his move was slow and off--balance—he was disoriented and in pain after Ironclads blow to his nose. Ironclad grabbed his right wrist and yanked the knife away from him as he wobbled on unsteady legs. Ironclad tossed the knife away, and readied the grip on his buck knife.

Shifting his grip on the knife handle, Ironclad slashed backward across his upper chest and to his left. The biker was now bleeding profusely from both his nose and his chest. He lifted his arm to wipe at the blood dripping from his chin before dropping into a crouch. Suddenly, he got knocked into me as Doc and another bloodied combatant continued fighting nearby.

The stunned biker and Ironclad grappled, tripped and fell to the street. He landed on top of him, and Ironclad could feel the warm blood from his nose running onto his face and chest. Ironclad pushed the man off of him, as had no fight left at this point, and he collapsed onto his side. Ironclad stood up and sent a kick to the guys face that knocked some teeth out.

He tried to get up but fell. Slowly, he staggered to his feet, still bleeding profusely from his nose, mouth and torso, and backed away from Ironclad. His fight was over. I glanced over at Doc and Snakes and saw that their opponents were lying on the street and also bleeding heavily. The three guys looked at each other and knew it was time to go. They hopped on their bikes, and headed off as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.


=====================================


Ironclad: It's time Spencer. This is the biggest moment of your little pathetic mortal life son. All or nothing, winner take all. To you it's a chance of a lifetime, the chance you have been waiting for. To me, it's just another day. You see Spencer, every day it was all or nothing for me. There was always someone or something trying to take what was mine. But they all failed, as they left battered and beaten….if they left at all. As you will as well, Spencer.


What makes you so different Spencer? You think because you spent time behind bars, or dabbled in some of that MMA junk makes you a badass? In prison, Im sure you turned tricks, sucked cock, and had more things shoved up your ass than Elton John to remain protected. MMA isn't real fighting, real fighting doesn't have rules. I will slit your fucking throat if I have to, and not think twice about it. Will a ref stop that from happening? I've seen guys like you before try me and end up in a bloody heap on the ground, with broken bones and no teeth. Just remember, there will be no guards or no referees this time to protect you son. The problem was that you expected someone to save your pathetic ass when you got into a fight, but what happens when that protection isn't there? What are you gonna do then? You still wanna risk it all?


Ironclad closes his eyes for a second and pauses


Have you ever heard the sound of a bone breaking slowly in your bare hands, Spencer? You can feel the shift of the bone moving from its original place, and popping slowly until its protruding through the skin. The final pop, sends chills down your spine as you are responsible their downfall. If you haven't heard it, you will soon. It's going to be slow and painful for you, as I break every bone in your body. You will feel every inch of your insides slowly shifting to new places, as you become nauseous. Blood, vomit, and piss will be left after I am through with you.


You will never be the same again, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your life with tubes and machines keeping your comfortable. Your pain will give me pleasure, your life will be over and everything you have ever worked for will be mine. Your career, your money, your woman and the title shot will be all mine. So let me ask you this again, is it all worth it Spencer? Are you prepared for the outcome?


Ironclad turns around and walks towards the front door. Before he opens the door, he grabs a long pouch. He opens it up and pulls out a long buck knife,as a smile creeps over his face.


Ironclad: Time to go to work……


The screen fades out








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