DIVISION 52 - BOOK I

CHAPTER LIV

– S C O R P I O N –

I did not contact that comm ID that night.

Nor did I the next day. When I took a surprisingly long sleep I awoke and was already heading for the training floor of the safe house tower. A half thought nagged at me since yesterday. The matter of the rebel leader, Hades. Completely dark. No comms. It was unusual but not enough for me to spare time and resources. Not before the operation in two mere days.

The early hours of the morning quietened the sleek white hallways but when I emerged onto the more robust floor of concretes and metals–the room bustled with Division 52.

It had been too long since my body had been put to work this way.

I was quickly noticed as I strode past weight racks and sweating bodies that grunted, snarled and spat every once in a while. Nods and fists pressed to chests. I paid them no mind as I reached one of the raised square platforms and dropped my weapons holster before it.

The two fighters fought quickly and brutally upon it. I did not bother to interrupt them. I watched and learned. I saw the dark skinned opponent in red shorts and thick bands of muscles duck a hasty swing with half a thought from a taller olive skinned man who bore his sweaty chest openly to the world. If it was an intimidation tactic, it had not gone in his favour.

I knew the fight would be over a few seconds before red shorts ducked another sloppy slug and wrapped an arm around his neck, effectively cutting off his oxygen. His opponent flailed embarrassingly before I cut in.

"Enough." I said curtly, cutting through the panting.

Red shorts cut his eyes down to me before widening and he released his hold instantly. His opponent did not get the memo and turned in a blind attempt to seize control of the fight. I had quite enough of this.

I moved with two light steps and threw a round kick into his opponents stomach before he could finish winding up his swing. He dropped to the mat like a sack of rocks. I noticed a few others drop weights around and watch the spectacle.

"You." I said in a bored tone to the nearest meat with arms. "Take him out of my training room and give him to Proximo." I did not specify what for but his attitude would give Proximo all the ideas he needed.

Meaty arms dropped his weights and crossed a fist to his chest. "Yes, Scorpion."

As the sad excuse of his opponent was literally dragged off the mat, red shorts began to swallow and flex his finger wraps. I watched more sweat appear on his dark brows that were not from exertion. 

"You're good." I noted as I shrugged off my crimson cloak and bounded lightly onto the mat to face him properly. "Controlled. Calm." I lunged as quick as an asp to jab for his jaw. His head moved with more time than was expected given the distraction.

I smiled slowly at his cautious but calm demeanour. "What's your name?"

I threw a boot at his knee this time and he skipped away entirely on the defensive but holding my burning eyes as I stalked closer.

"Octavius." He said raising his hands lightly to encounter further threats.

I threw two lethal jabs in quick succession and spun with a high kick. His hands parried my knuckles and he dipped back in a smooth dodge so my foot sailed past him. There was even enough time for a counter that he didn't dare take.

I raised a brow at him. "Which squadron are you with?"

I let him speak now without an assault but his keen eyes expected more. "Narcotics traders." His deep voice told me carefully.