Then

"Are you serious? Stallone, for sure."

"Piss off, Schwarzenegger!"

"What about Van Damme?"

"Lundgren was Master of the Universe. Just saying."

"Come on, we all know that when God said, 'Let there be light' Chuck Norris said, 'Say please'."

"Oh, we want to do Chuck Norris jokes?" Jace said with glee and cracked his knuckles. "Do you know why all mirrors shatter when Chuck Norris looks into them? Because even glass is not dumb enough to get between Chuck Norris and Chuck Norris."

"Please, no, don't get him started!"

Jace continued undeterred. "Did you know the quickest way to a man's heart is with Chuck Norris' fist?"

Loud groans followed.

The conversations flowed across the table where Cracker, Jace, Vlad, Malachai, Yelfim, and Phoenix sat.

It had not been planned at all.

Phoenix and Vlad had worked from three in the morning, videoconferencing with a company in Asia, and had decided to go to lunch before they would split up and head home for some much-needed sleep. They had put in their day's worth of work. They both had looked more dead than alive when they had left Phoenix's apartment and gone to the restaurant they usually ate at when having worked at Phoenix's. Having been too tired to walk, they had opted for the lazy solution, so Phoenix had driven them in his new car, though it was not that far away.

They had barely gotten a table, when the other guys had tumbled through the door, apparently wasting a few hours before some meeting with Gareth.

Nobody had asked, Malachai and Cracker had simply pushed some tables up to the one where Vlad and Phoenix had sat and joined them.

It had taken some getting used to, but over the six months since he had moved into his apartment and finally gotten into a work routine, and found a socializing balance with Gareth's men, Phoenix had slowly gotten to know people and felt more as part of the group. It had helped immensely that his Russian lessons had progressed smoothly, and he was fairly fluent in basic conversation, though he was still lost when they talked fast or used big words, and the written...

Yeah, fuck that shit.

It was annoying.

He would get the hang of it, honestly, what could they expect after only six months of lessons? Russian was systemized, vodka-induced gibberish. He had learned other languages, still, shit took time.

It was not like he had an eidetic memory and only needed to see or hear things once for it to be forever stored in his head. Depending on the subject, he came fairly close, but he felt it was desire based. If it was something he wanted to learn or needed to remember, it would be easier for him to recall in his mind, like everything business related. Passwords, rules, laws, and such trivialities, those stuck with him.

With everything else, it still took some time for him to have full clarity of the knowledge to recall the information without mistakes. Things he did not care about, like cooking or gossip, he would have a massive blank spot in his mind about whenever he tried to remember anything about it.

The same went for social interactions, even if he wanted to learn that desperately. It had taken him years to learn some basics, and there he still lived on the few things he had pounded into himself to remember. Each social encounter was a battle, and he often felt his knowledge was lacking, no matter how hard he tried to memorize the proper etiquette.

It did not seem to be much of an issue with all the lessons Gareth had made him get on the mafia-related side of the business. That he for some reason sucked up like a sponge. Maybe because he could categorize it as business in his mind.

Vasili was thrilled with his progress, and Gareth seemed pleased with the reports he had gotten from all Phoenix's appointed teachers. Phoenix took it as good enough and did not feel he needed to pace himself more than he already had. His main focus had been on the businesses, and that he had remembered without fault. He had gone over everything Gareth had his hands in, using that big, bad analytical mind of his to corner where he needed to focus his attention, where he could improve or cut down. How to optimize to yield a better profit and groom the businesses for expansion or even sale if an opportunity arose. He also kept a keen eye on acquisition possibilities that could profit Gareth in the long run.

Gareth had only given him praise and rarely breathed down his neck about anything. If Phoenix delivered his monthly reports, and Gareth confirmed those to be satisfactory, that was the end of it. The reports kept Gareth up to speed and allowed him to concentrate on his own job and still leave space for his mafia businesses.

He appeared content with having hired Phoenix to take a load of himself and Vlad. And he liked how self-motivating Phoenix was, he only required Gareth's input with larger things, details and the day-to-day operations, Gareth gladly relinquished to Phoenix.

"So, did you crush a few spring rolls into soggy dumplings this morning?" Jace asked with a grin when Vlad told them they had been online with Asia the entire morning.

"He did," Vlad confirmed with a broad grin to match Jace's. "I'm telling you, their faces every time Phoenix talk to them in their language for the first time, it's priceless. Mainly because he never tells them in advance that he understands them."

"Really?" Malachai raised his eyebrows, looking impressed and a tad surprised. He was a fairly expressive man in his mid-twenties, about six foot one with reddish-brown hair, and light blue eyes. Not as peppy as Jace, but still rather talkative and always upbeat.

Agreeable and well-liked were probably the right words to describe him.

"Well, they usually speak English, or have a translator who does, and I assume they listen to what Vlad and I say in English, why would it come as a surprise to them that I do the same? With or without a translator."

Phoenix's casual shrug and explanation made sense, it was still a sneaky tactic.

"So, you speak what? Chinese? Or?" Yelfim inquired, sipping his drink and looking at Phoenix with the same surprised shock as the rest.

"Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean."

Jace nearly snorted his drink out all over the table at that, he coughed slightly, drying the inevitable tears from his eyes. "How many fucking languages do you speak?"

He knew the guy was a genius, though he had kept Phoenix's confession to himself. Jace would never betray that sort of confidence, and the trust Phoenix had shown him, he had wished to nurture to maybe gain more of in time. Keeping his secrets was the first step. But Phoenix evidently had a lot more to tell than what Jace had been granted knowledge of.

Being a business wizard did not mean he was a linguistic expert. Maybe he should have expected that, Phoenix did seem rather anal about his work and understanding it to be on top of things.

Fiddling with his napkin, Phoenix looked down at his lap. He did not like the attention in the slightest and felt rather put on the spot. It felt like too much information to share, though he had no reason to feel ashamed of those abilities. It was just a lot for him to divulge when they were already suspiciously keeping track of his business abilities.

"Eh, English, of course, and French because of some of my father's family. The three I just mentioned. German, Spanish, and Greek. And Vasili is teaching me Russian." Phoenix told them while counting on his fingers. "So, nine?"

A dead silence surrounded the table. Jaws were dropped and people just stared. Even Vlad, who had not known the extent of Phoenix's linguistic skills.

"I'm not as good at the written, though," Phoenix quickly added like it made a difference. "I do need a professional translator for that if business related to avoid mistakes."

"You're almost as bad as Gareth with languages, even if he does speak other ones than you," Cracker commented after he had cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Gareth speaks a lot of languages, can order whiskey and steak in most normal languages, and swear in every single one known to man." Jace laughed along with everybody.

Even Phoenix cracked a smile, relieved the focus was off him again.

It was commonly known that Gareth swore like a drunk sailor. As a joke, he had begun learning bad words in other languages as a kid, which had led him to an obsession with languages.

There was a bit of awkwardness in the wake of the revelations from Phoenix, which he had trouble processing. One thing was for sure, he had won some respect from the guys. They put him at level with Gareth, and there was an ease oozing from them. Though most had accepted Phoenix's credentials and had seen no indications of him not being able to handle Gareth's businesses, somehow that information had given him a nudge up in acceptance. He was sure the news would spread like wildfire.

That was just plain weird to him.

And a bit shameful too.

They saw it as a feat and something to make him special. If they only knew why he had learned those languages, why he had forced himself to study like a madman to hammer words and grammar rules into his head. All those torturous hours of practicing pronunciation and remembering slang.

It was not something worthy of their praise.

It was pathetic, and they would pity him if they knew.

Vlad checked his watch and yawned openly. "Sorry guys, it's been a long day and I have plans tonight, I think it's time for me to head home. I can hear my bed calling already."

"Oh, so you're not joining us at the mansion for dinner and Friday drinks? We'll be going to Denby's afterward," Malachai asked.

"I have a date," Vlad said with a wink. "And I'm sorry, but a date trumps sitting with you lot."

None of them had really imagined Vlad being the dating type, then again, why would he not be? He was a man like the rest of them and companionship either for a night or long term was normal.

With a laugh, Malachai agreed. "What about you, Phoenix? You coming?"

"Sorry, I have plans this weekend."

"Why? You never come anymore. Most nights you're busy, and if you do come you slink out before eleven in the evening every time."

Phoenix sighed.

He knew he had to socialize from time to time, he just preferred not to do it at the mansion. If at a club it was easier to get away when he felt it became too much. And though the guys were welcoming, he felt awkward with them. He preferred to spend his time like he wanted to.

"Some other time, I promise."

Malachai nodded with a slight pout. He liked having Phoenix around, and Gareth had mentioned a few times that he missed Phoenix, so they tried to get him to join when they got together.

At least Phoenix had said he would come another time.

They were all looking for money when both Cracker's and Jace's phones buzzed.

"Shit!"

They looked at each other, communicating without words.

"We need to run. Something's up at Verno's. We got an SOS."

Frowning, Phoenix looked at Cracker and Jace for information. "Verno's?" He felt his heart rate rise at the tension in the guys at the table.

"It's a drug drop off point."

Phoenix had been through an introduction to that part of the business, and had heard a few names and places for that sort of thing. 'Verno's' was not a name he recalled having heard before.

The guys were already up from their chairs.

"You need help?" There was no time to think, Phoenix had stood with them. All his tiredness was forgotten, adrenaline rushed through him because he was affected by the situation. "I've got my car outside."

As if debating silently, Cracker sought Jace's approval because Jace was the one who had trained Phoenix in combat and gun accuracy. If Jace did not deem Phoenix ready to go, he would not accept his help.

Jace simply nodded.

"Go," Vlad urged, shooing them away with his hands. "I've got this."

There was no time to thank him or even think. They ran out of there and split up when Jace called out to them. "I'm with you, Phoenix. We'll take the south side. You guys go east, ok?"

"Aye."

That was the only confirmation Cracker gave as he ran down the street toward the car, they had arrived in, followed by Malachi and Yelfim, where Jace and Phoenix ran to Phoenix's car. Without even being asked, Phoenix flipped his keys to Jace and got into the passenger seat, Jace knew where they were going, and he did not. There was no reason for them to spend unnecessary time having to guide Phoenix through town, and probably down obscure roads to somewhere unknown.

"Do you have more weapons than the basics?"

"I have that stash in the secret compartment under the car as you made sure of. I had it filled at the cache. Small handgun in the glove compartment, and extra in the trunk with Kevlars."

The fact that Jace did not say anything or even acknowledge what Phoenix had said came as no surprise. It was not kindergarten where people needed a pat on the back for doing what was standard procedure set up by Gareth. It was normal for Gareth's men to have their cars modified in the back, lifting the bottom of the trunk and making a compartment under it to hold gear for operations, that would not be discovered if the trunk was to be searched. The local laws were always an obstacle, and they had to circumvent them somehow.

Phoenix had confirmed they had what they needed to at least be somewhat prepared for what they were about to enter and that was enough.

"Listen carefully." Jace steered the car with expertise out of town, he had no problems maneuvering the large SUV while talking and keeping his eyes on the road. It being late February the snow had mostly melted, though there was a bit left outside the city, and when they left the paved roads in favor of rough paths inside a forested area, he needed to concentrate. His knuckles turned white with his grip on the wheel, he could not afford to have an accident. "Verno's is a warehouse, a shitty, run-down place that's basically a condemned building. Gareth owns the land through one of his subsidiaries and uses that place to receive and distribute drugs."

There was no need for Phoenix to say anything, Jace talked, and he listened, storing the information.

"We'll park as close as we can to the southern entrance, gear up and move in. Stay low and do everything I say, never hesitate. I've got your back at all times."

"Understood."

The car came to a halt as quietly as Jace was able to do it, considering the speed he had had down the overgrown dirt road leading to the south side of the property. They both jumped out, Jace grabbing the Kevlars and handguns, where Phoenix clicked the lock and accessed the secret compartment under the car that held more weapons, explosives, and other gear they were not going to use.

In the distance they could hear the exchange of gunfire echoing within the walls, the sounds floated to them from the partially collapsed building, telling of whatever was going down already being at a dangerous point.

Verno's was indeed a run-down, shitty place. Phoenix saw the ruined building, walls crumbled here and there with overgrown foliage claiming new territory where possible. The roof was collapsed from the side they were entering, and it did depict exactly what Gareth needed it to do.

A condemned building with no use or purpose in the middle of nowhere.

The perfect place for shady stuff to happen.

And also the perfect place for Gareth to claim no knowledge of it being used for shady shit, if confronted.

By the cover of the tall grass, they snuck closer until they reached the wall. Jace put a finger to his mouth, though there really was no need for it. It was not a 'let's talk about it' moment. He motioned Phoenix forward and crouched down to peek around the side of a part of the fallen wall where Phoenix could look in over him.

Two smaller trucks were at the far end of the large, once-upon-a-time, cargo hold of the warehouse. A shitfest of a car, which looked to be barely held together with gum and duct tape, stood idling to the side, behind which four dark-clad men were taking turns firing at the men by the trucks. There were more men at what looked to be strategic points, those too were firing at Gareth's men. A casualty here and there was spotted, though none looked like they belonged to Gareth, judging from the clothes.

Pointing at a pile of rubble from the caved-in roof to the right of where they were hiding, Jace did hand signals to tell Phoenix to go there and then pointed at a gunman a bit above to the right of the pile. A quick finger across his throat to indicate the kill. Jace moved a foot to the side, holding his gun up just in case, to let Phoenix make a run for the pile, knowing Jace would cover him.

Sprinting as fast as he could, though keeping low and having an eye on everything, Phoenix went to the pile and fired two shots at the gunman, effectively taking him out, then slightly turning to cover Jace as he came running toward him.

The fall of the gunman from the rafter had easily been spotted by whatever intruders at the car, and one of them turned his fire toward where Jace had just ducked down beside Phoenix in the nick of time.

"Any number estimate?" Phoenix whispered, peeking to the side, to see if there were men he had not registered yet. The adrenaline coursing through him made his blood rush so fast it buzzed in his head and almost drowned out the sound of Jace's voice. His ears were humming with the sounds of shots being fired.

No amount of training had prepared him for the real thing. Even the tales of past shootouts, and whatever violent incidents Jace and the others had told him about, had not made him realize how unnerving it was to be a part of.

He could not stop his heart from pounding so hard against his chest he felt his ribs would be bruised for weeks, his brain turned into mush, and he had only survival on his mind.

Sweat formed places where sweat should never be.

Yes, he was scared and not afraid to admit that to himself.

"Four at the car. Two above to the left, three more up ahead on your right, I don't know if there are more. I can't see Cracker's team yet. They should come from our right through the rusty door almost up at the trucks to cover the guys there."

"We need the men on the right blocking their way neutralized to make their entry easier then," Phoenix reasoned.

"Can you make three perfect shots?"

Quickly, Phoenix changed the magazine in his gun and checked the other to be sure he was fully loaded, then he nodded. He already knew what Jace was asking, and it was not a small task. He had to run out into the open, trusting completely that Jace had his back to hold off the men at the car while he only had two heartbeats to take down three guys, and still not get hit by the ones on the rafters.

Piece of cake.

Ish...

Jace put his hand on Phoenix's arm, squeezing it lightly, looking him straight in the eyes. His blue eyes, reassuring and at the same time showing nothing but belief in Phoenix and his abilities. He had trained him after all. "I've got you. I promise. Make the shots and get down as fast as you can."

"I trust you."

Everything happened too fast to register. Jace let go of Phoenix's arm and took a few deep breaths before nodding at Phoenix to be ready. He closed his eyes for a second and peeked over the pile at the men by the car, only one of them was still focused in their direction, holding his guns ready.

Like a Jack-in-the-box, Jace jumped up, aimed, and fired at the man near the car.

"Go!"

Tunnel vision clouding his mind, only one goal in focus, heart racing, and probably ready to piss himself, Phoenix ran out from their hiding place, not looking anywhere but at his targets. He trusted Jace to have his back, he did not have time to take in his surroundings and be on his guard.

He had one job.

And he was fucking going to do it.

Only headshots if they too were wearing Kevlar, he had to go for the smallest targets for an obvious kill.

One shot - one down.

The two men left standing turned from firing at Gareth's men at the trucks to take down Phoenix, who they saw coming at them.

Second shot - second kill.

The gore of blood and brain matter splattering from the head wounds did not affect Phoenix at all. The way their eyes became void of life as they dropped to the ground was inconsequential. All he saw were target dummies that he had to hit dead center to survive.

He was not afraid of dying.

He was afraid of failing his teammates.

Bullets came flying at him, he felt them rather than saw them when they swooshed past him in the air. Only one man left, and he was apparently not going down without a fight, he was emptying his magazines toward the threat coming at him. Phoenix only had half a second to survey the ground in front of him, searching for the clearest spot, hoping for as soft a landing as possible, to keep his hands steady if he did not hit his target at the first try, before he threw himself forward and emptied one of his guns at the last standing man.

Phoenix hit the ground hard, wincing when something pierced his side, though forcing his eyes open to see the man fall to the ground.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Success flooded him like a drug.

Mission accomplished.

There was no time for a victory dance, he turned his head back at Jace, still on the ground to stay as low as possible, hopefully, hidden from the other gunmen. Jace had taken down the one who had been shooting at them to begin with, and another had taken over. He saw Jace pop up and deliver two shots before ducking again, and the man went down.

Only two were left by the car, both occupied by Gareth's guys at the trucks. Jace sat with his back to the pile, changing his magazines at the speed of light.

It was more a feeling triggered by a flash of light than an actual visual of the person in the rafters, that made Phoenix look up and see three gunmen up there, not two as they had assessed earlier, all narrowing in on Jace, though only one of them seemed to have a clear shot. Without hesitation, Phoenix took down the nearest, watching him begin to fall.

He was almost out of bullets.

The sound of the shot and the cry from the man startled Jace, like he had not been aware of that gunman. He looked up in shock, seeing the man drop to the ground. That was when the one with a clear shot pointed his gun at Jace, Phoenix did not think at all. Scrambling to his feet and wincing at the unknown feeling in his side, running as fast as he could toward Jace, who seemed oblivious to the threat.

A shot was heard.

Followed by two more.

And then what sounded like twenty.

That sounded bad.

It sounded like the end.

That was the last thought going through Phoenix's mind.

"Jace!" Phoenix screamed as he flung himself at Jace and wrapped an arm around his head, snapping it away from the vulnerable position, protecting it as best he could.

The bullet came sailing through the air at the exact place where Jace's head had been just a second before, unfortunately, where Phoenix's arm now occupied the space. The next two went straight into Phoenix's back which was protectively shielding Jace from harm as they tumbled to the ground with Phoenix on top of Jace.

Luckily, the Kevlar took the two bullets. That did not mean it did not hurt as a mother fucker, and the ache in his side increased. Phoenix groaned, nerve activation shooting up his arm in a way he had never experienced before, but it was most likely the closest he would ever come to feeling pain. It was mind-numbing; he just did not have time to be numbed. The sensation made him lose his grip on the gun in his right hand, the one in his left he still had a good grip on, when he forced himself to turn, aiming to shoot. To his absolute horror, Phoenix heard the gun click because that was the one, he had emptied to take down the third man before, and he had not had time to change the magazine or switch the loaded gun to his primary hand after killing the guy in the rafters.

He saw the gunmen and waited for the rain of deadly bullets to hit him, surprised to see them falling without him having done anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cracker and Malachai lowering their weapons from shooting into the rafters, then coming running at them. Yelfim they probably had sent to help the other men take care of the ones by the car; Phoenix did not have the brain capacity to care.

A few more shots echoed before silence settled in the building.

Phoenix's ears were ringing, and his vision blurred, while he slowly moved away from Jace, hoping that the kid was ok. Sweat formed all over again and he began to feel cold. "Jace, are you hit?" His voice laced with fear and concern, there was no way of knowing if he had made it in time.

"N... No."

"The fuck man," Cracker called out and grabbed Phoenix before he tilted. "That was amazing. Consider yourself initiated."

"What happened?" Jace groggily rubbed his head where it had been slammed into the hard concrete floor when Phoenix had tackled him, the sticky blood coating his hand. Dizziness overpowered him, and the sight of blood on his hand confused him. He did not feel any immediate danger since neither Cracker nor Malachai were hiding or shooting. He could not hear any shots being fired, then again, the ringing in his head was quite loud.

"Jace, Jace? Are you ok?" Malachai asked in a worried tone. "What's twenty-five plus forty-eight?"

"Bro, you're supposed to check if he's ok, not vet him for Mensa," Cracker grumbled.

Sighing, Malachai held up two fingers. "Jace, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Jace looked puzzled at Malachai, trying hard to focus on the stupid questions that made no sense. "It's a hand, there are five no matter what you do."

In an attempt to clear his mind, Jace tried to shake his head.

Bad idea.

Like really fucking bad.

His face must have reflected his pain because Phoenix gently whispered to him, "I'm sorry for hurting you."

Carefully, Phoenix caressed Jace's cheek. Phoenix was completely out of it, if it was shock or pain none of them knew, so, they took no notice of his odd behavior. They saw it as him checking on Jace. Phoenix's hand fell and then he collapsed into Cracker's arms, closing his eyes. The nerve tension in his arm was not really that bad, and the one in his side was not either, it was the feeling from the bullets he had felt through his vest that took his breath away. It was like they had collapsed his lungs with the impact.

"What the hell, you're bleeding." Shock cleared Jace's mind faster than he had thought possible. The sight of Phoenix's giant body slumped against Cracker, his face pale, and his breathing a tight heaving, with a blood stain fast getting larger on his arm as the beige jacket got soaked, and a piece of metal sticking out from a blood-stained spot on his side below the Kevlar vest.

"That makes two of us," Phoenix chuckled, keeping his eyes closed. "Are we done? Can I take a nap? I was up early, you know?"

Malachai had ripped the bottom of his shirt and bandaged Phoenix's arm to create a tourniquet. "He's losing a lot of blood, he can't sleep. And we can't remove that metal, he could bleed out."

"The car's out back." Shakily, Jace got on his feet.

"Like hell, you're driving."

Cracker and Malachi got Phoenix up. "You take over here, I'll bring them to the doctors at the mansion."

Malachai nodded and left them with a worried look at Phoenix. What he had just done was brave but stupid as all fuck. Gareth would have his balls for being that dumb, and then he would shower him with love for having saved Jace. If Phoenix had not gotten there in time, they would have been burying Jace one of the coming days.

Both he and Cracker had seen what Phoenix had done.

Malachai would make damn sure everybody knew that Phoenix was one to be trusted.

Together, Jace and Cracker got Phoenix to the car with great difficulty. He was barely conscious, and it was like dragging an elephant. They hid the weapons in the compartment, and with Cracker behind the wheel, they drove from there like a bat out of hell.

"Can't breathe," Phoenix complained with a groan.

His pale face, the cold sweat, and the pained expression told them that Phoenix needed a doctor and fast.

Looking at the backseat where Jace had Phoenix leaning against him, Cracker barked at him, "Get the vest off him. And keep him awake."

Whatever had pierced Phoenix's side had gotten in just under the vest, and Jace used his jacket to cover the area after he had wiggled the vest off of Phoenix. Phoenix barely responded and just slumped with his head bobbing toward his chest.

"Phoenix!"

"Sleep."

More as a reflex than any medically proven theory on what to do, Jace just slapped Phoenix across the face. It was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

"Ow." Phoenix pouted and rubbed his chin, glaring at Jace. He did not understand fully why Jace had hit him.

"Snap out of it, Nureyev, or I swear when you wake up it'll be in pink tights and a rainbow-colored tutu. Don't even think I'm kidding."

Phoenix just chuckled again. "I can dance."

His voice was deep and dreamy, the blood loss getting to him. Though he seemed to breathe easier when Jace had gotten the vest off him. A relieved sigh and the intake of slow breaths that sounded less strained gave them a bit of hope.

Phoenix's eyes were still fighting a losing battle with the need to sleep, and his head hung without the energy to keep it up.

They had better get there soon.

Phoenix did not have long.

Hi dear Wattlings. It's Monday and you know what that means.

Thank you for reading.

So, Phoenix really had his trial by fire in this chapter. He and Jace sure work well together, don't you think? How did you like it? Was the action good?

If you like it then pop a vote and please leave comments. The comments are important for me to know how the story is progressing and the characters are developing. And I'd love to know what you think and interact with y'all.

Give me a follow too for updates on other work and put this book in your library. I'd appreciate that.

Love, Alix

Published: August 16th, 2021. ©Alix Davenport, Copenhagen