In the parking garage across from Amalie and on the other side of Thunder Alley,

Marty St. Louis drives his car back down Channelside and turns to go under Thunder Alley. He parks his car in the first handicap spot, not caring about being in it or getting in trouble. He then hops out of the car, rounds it and drags the unconscious Lightning player's Ondrej Palat and Nikita Kucherov out of the backseat.

Marty drags them over toward the corner of the entrance of the underground parking and dumps them against the wall. Palat is the first to blink awake and he spots Marty hovering over him. "Hello Ondrej...or maybe I'll just refer to you as Pally."

Palat looks at the retired New York Ranger/Tampa Bay Lightning forward and gradually narrows his eyes. He makes to shout something through the tape, but Marty slaps a hand over his mouth, over the tape.

"Before you attempt to say anything, let me just tell you that this is a war with Steve Yzerman and that awful up and coming small superstar, Tyler Johnson. Yeah, I don't like either of them. And I know, you're thinking 'oh, you're just jealous because Tyler's having WAY more success with the Lightning than you', well that's NOT it at all. Sure he can say I'm his mentor and try to be like me, but there is only ONE Marty St. Louis and I am him."

Palat blinks as Marty drops his hand and the Czech player looks to his side as Kucherov awakens, finding himself in the similar heap of trouble as Palat. The Russian forward begins to struggle, kicking at the ground as best as he can and emitting muffled grunts of distress. Palat turns back to a glaring, angry Marty, who suddenly seizes him by the chin to hold his head still in place.

"Your centerman...friend, him and I aren't so different and that's a big problem. That's why I cannot allow him to continue to have success. He will NEVER be me or be better than me!" Marty snarls. "Without the help of his precious little Triplet linemates, he'll have no chance but to surrender the title of best small player to me!"

Palat gulps and attempts to say, "You'll never get away with it! You don't know Johnny like us!" But all that comes out is a muffled groaning noise.

"Oh and you're probably thinking to yourself, 'Johnny will save us', but let me stop you right there because he will not. I have a special friend inside of Amalie right now. Perhaps you know him. His name is Jonathan Drouin. I had him keep an eye on your little blond Russian friend...what's his name, it's so difficult to pronounce."

Palat looks at Kucherov and they both share a frightened look.

"That's right, so while they are all busy trying to keep the little Russian kid safe, I'm going to make you two suffer and then just when he skids in to rescue you both...BANG! BANG! I kill you in front of his eyes." Marty throws his head back, cackling wickedly.

After a few moments of evil laughter, he sits back and withdraws a small black handgun. He whips it out and instantly sticks it to Palat's forehead, causing the Czech player to close his eyes and whimper.

"Are you scared Pally? Scared of death?" Marty sneers as he cocks the gun, making it click.

Palat flinches but realizes that nothing is happening. He opens his eyes up and sees a laughing villain man before him.

"Oh and there is a reason why I'm leaving your mouths taped shut...I'm not going to take it off either." He slaps Palat's cheek and then gets to his feet, glaring down at them as he spins the gun in his hand and threatens them.

Meanwhile, back in Amalie,

Vladislav Namestnikov leads the group of Bolts through the Back Ice area, heading toward the exit to the player lot. They head down the gradual slope and begin to check around the lot as a unit. As Vladdy searches, he glances up at the exit, they'd just come from and he spots the familiar figure standing in the doorway.

Vladdy sees that everyone else is busy looking around and curiosity bests him as he heads toward the figure. The person steps to the side and Vladdy grips Yzerchuk tightly in his hands. He will not be ambushed this time!

He halts at the entrance and turns to look in the direction where the figure had stepped too. He gasps and drops Yzerchuk in shock as he finds himself looking into the dark, cold brown eyes of Jonathan Drouin.

"Jo...?!" Vladdy gasps.

Jonathan Drouin kicks Yzerchuk away from the shocked Russian forward and smirks. "Yes, shocked to see me, are you Vladdy?"

"I thought you'd changed! Yzerman gave you a second chance! You're supposed to be in Syracuse!"

Drouin chuckles wickedly and rounds Vladdy, who struggles to keep an eye on him, turning his head in every direction. "Well, Yzerman's a fool, now isn't he? He's not the nicest Red Wing you know. Once a Wing, always a Wing. Yzerman can drop dead!" He shoves Vladdy backward roughly. "It's HIS fault that I ended up in that mess! If he'd never continued to bench me!"

Vladdy gawks at him. "We were friends, you and I!"

"And now we're not. Tell me, did you like the chair?"

"That was you!?"

Drouin smirks darkly at him. "It was." He shoves Vladdy backward again.

"How can you do this to your own team? We gave you a chance and you ruined it. You and I both know that when you got injured and then came back you were never the same. You've always been the jealous type just like Marty St. Louis!" Vladdy snaps, shoving Drouin back and glancing toward where Yzerchuk is lying in the doorway.

Drouin shoves him back a third time, this time slamming him against the wall and pinning him in place. "That's only because a certain Russian had to steal my thunder! That's right Vladdy, you were the cause of my demise! It's because of you that I changed! You grew and bettered your game, while I was left to 'catch up' and I tried, but I'd never earn the last spot on the roster. No, that was you!"

"I only did my best. I tried. If you really wanted to, you would have tried harder. But you didn't. It's not on me for your misfortunes!" Vladdy snarls, pushing against Drouin with all of his strength.

"Still Marty told me to pick someone to go after and I chose that player and person to be you! I hate you Vladislav Namestnikov and I won't stop until you are stopped! You are the Tyler Johnson to my Marty St. Louis!"

Vladdy grunts as he struggles to get his ex-friend off of him. "God Drouin, get off of me!"

"Ha-ha, how funny is it that the deadbeat Jonathan Drouin is stronger than the hockey playing Vladislav Namestnikov? You should know that when I was in my suspension, I formulated a plan and I worked out every day. I knew only then I'd be able to best you. I've already ambushed you, knocked you out, tied you up and now I'm pinning you against the wall with more ease than Brad Marchand scoring on Bish in Overtime!"

"How dare you?!" Vladdy kicks out, trying to connect with the wicked man but his attempt misses.

"Hey Drouin," a voice growls. "Maybe pick on someone your own skill level, you punk ass kid!"

Drouin spins around, wrapping an arm around Vladdy's neck. Tyler Johnson stands in the doorway, holding Yzerchuk in his hands.

"Johnson, I believe you have two friends - linemates even - to rescue! Why waste your time with this roster-position stealer?"

"In Yzerchuk we trust!" Tyler shouts out, thrusting the hockey stick into the air.

Drouin eyes him and shakes his head. The hockey stick doesn't transform like it had earlier and Tyler looks at Vladdy, who looks at Drouin. The 20-year-old from Canada throws his head back and cackles wickedly. In the distraction, Vladdy kicks back and then shoves Drouin's hand off of him.

"Johnny!" Vladdy cries out as Drouin recovers. Tyler tosses him the stick, still confused as to why it never worked for him. The blond Russian catches the stick in his hands and thrusts it into the air quickly, shouting out, "In Yzerchuk we trust!"

Drouin slowly stops laughing as the hockey stick glows the bright blue color again and then morphs into the lightning bolt. "How did you...?"

"Thank Andreychuk for that!" Vladdy growls and slew-foots Drouin, who crumples on the ground at his feet. "That's my secret weapon, Yzerchuk. I was hoping that I'd never need to use it, but looks like it's not only Montreal who needs to be taught a lesson. (Also the Traffic Cone.)"

Vladdy spins the bolt around in his hand, before he points it right at Drouin, who eyes it with a puzzled fear. "You're going to tell us where Marty St. Louis is and Pally and Kuch! Otherwise, I'll have Yzerchuk, here, make you!"

Drouin gets to his feet. "Fine." He frustratingly brushes himself off. "But this isn't over Vladislav!"

Vladdy leans down, keeping Yzerchuk close in case. "It is. You're a spoiled little brat."

They walk out of the exit, back to the player's lot, where Stamkos, Bishop and the others are standing around, looking at them. Vladdy grips the lightning bolt in his hands. It slowly begins its transformation.

"Whoa man, what is that--is that you're hockey stick?" Stamkos gasps, pointing at the - now - completely transformed hockey stick in Vladdy's hands.

"Guys, this is Yzerchuk, fan-induced, Andreychuk-constructed. He's my weapon of choice and he's pretty neat, huh?" Vladdy says with a smile. "He's saved me numerous times...but most recently against Jonathan Drouin here." He gestures toward the annoyed looking brunette, who rolls his eyes.

"Bite me Namestnikov!" Drouin spits.

Tyler glares at him. "You wanna take it up with Stammer, here?"

Drouin looks at the irritated captain of the Lightning and shakes his head. "No-no thanks." He lowers his head and looks at his feet.

"So Andreychuk made that for you?" Stralman questions.

"Yeah, I thought it would come in handy and be pretty cool. I mean I am the most good-looking player on the roster--shut up Drouin!" Vladdy remarks, spinning his stick in his hand again to look somewhat cool.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Stamkos asks.

"Because I'm the most good-looking player, there's bound to be crazy females and jealous people, so...now I can protect myself with Yzerchuk!" Vladdy remarks, putting a hand on his hip and looking at the gathered Bolts. Drouin opens his mouth to say something and Vladdy spots it and instantly blurts out, "Shut up Drouin!"

"Okay, so any clues or anything?" Tyler asks.

"Easy there Eager TJ, you Marty St. Louis wanna-be, I'm kinda showing you, because I was threatened by a certain blond Russian prick," Drouin snarls, snapping his head up and looking at Vladdy, who raises Yzerchuk up at ready and winks at him.

"Drouin, no name-calling!" Stamkos snaps.

"Well, whatever, I'll tell you one thing, you're precious teammates aren't here, so you're wasting your own time...Pally and Kuch could be dead by now! If you really care about them so much, stop chatting like women and go save them, otherwise let them die and suffer on the ice because of it!" Drouin snarls, getting in Tyler's face.

"Drouin!" Stamkos exclaims. "Knock it off."

"You know what, I'm not scared of you Stammer! You can't tell me what to do - none of you can!" Drouin sticks his tongue out at Stamkos.

Stamkos grabs Drouin's arm and shoves him forward, dragging him away from the group roughly. "You do know that what you are doing is considered something that could get you in trouble...with the law. I won't hesitate to call the cops here. Now, either you tell us or show us where Pally and Kuch are, or maybe Vladdy's little hockey stick thing can AND I can call the cops on you."

"You wouldn't Stammer, cause I know you, but just 'cause I feel like it, I'll humor you and let you know where they are. I'll even lead you to where they are, because I know you're not going to save them in time. By now Marty has made sure that Pally and Kuch are ready for their death. And TJ, Johnny, Tyler, whatever, between you and me, you won't be able to save them."

The young brunette Canadian wrenches his arm free and turns back to the group. Stamkos shakes his head.

"And what makes you think that?" Vladdy demands, pointing Yzerchuk at Drouin, who swats the magical stick away from him.

"Because you all are stupid!" Drouin snorts.

"Take us to Marty, Jo," Sustr snarls. "Or you can say hi to Yzerman and the cops and a world of pain!"

"I said I was going to Sustr, you dumbass!"

Vladdy steps forward with Yzerchuk and presses the blade of the stick against Drouin's chest. "Walk."

Drouin smirks at him and nods. "Of course." With that, he spins on his heels and leads them from the player lot and around Amalie to the parking garage.

As Drouin leads them around the exterior of Amalie arena, Marty drags a now-beaten and bloodied Ondrej Palat and scared Nikita Kucherov back to his car. He puts Kucherov in the passenger seat and Palat in the trunk this time and then peels out of the garage. Kucherov looks out the window, spotting Drouin with the others, including Tyler and he tries to call to them, but they continue heading toward the now-empty parking lot.

Marty laughs as he drives onto Morgan Street and then turns onto Whiting Street, coming up to a renovated building. "While my little partner distracts your group, I'm going to take you to the actual location of your deaths. The longer I make you suffer the better." He reaches over and ruffles Kucherov's hair.

Kucherov looks at him with watery eyes.

"I'm not falling for the sad Russian look, Kuch. And besides, I'll make your death nice and quick, I'll even kill you first. Pally though, well I need to let him suffer." Marty cuts the wheel pulling into the small lot before the building.

He parks the car and then gets out. Luckily for him, and unluckily for the Lightning players, the workers aren't present. Marty opens up the trunk and yanks Palat out and then goes and grabs Kucherov from the passenger seat.

He begins to drag them - somehow - toward an opening in the building, which leads into a middle square section. He shoves Palat to the ground and takes the kicking Kucherov away toward a block of bricks. The terrified Russian attempts to fight back but he is ultimately shoved into the bricks.

Marty removes the tape from around Kucherov's arms and legs, leaving his wrists bound together still and then rips off the tape over his mouth and lets him cower against the bricks. He then heads over to where Palat is and removes the tape from his legs and arms, still leaving his wrists bound together with the tape.

"So, what's it going to be, Kuch?" Marty snarls. "You first or him?"

Palat reaches up to rip off the tape from over his mouth and then says, "You're mad Marty! And you're not going to kill us! You're just stalling. You say that you're going to kill us and then Johnny's going to come and that's it right? You don't want us, we're just bait for Tyler?" He throws the tape to the ground in anger.

"I always knew you were smart Pally...and brave. But foolish!" Marty remarks, pointing the gun at Palat and pulling back on the trigger. "You wanna test that theory out now?"

"Gladly! Kill me Marty!" Palat snaps.

"Pally, no!!" Kucherov shouts.

Marty lets go of the trigger and shoots at Palat, grazing his shoulder, enough to draw a little bit of blood. Palat gasps and staggers back, eyeing Marty with shock. "You gonna shut up now Pally? Huh?"

"Y-you..." Palat stammers, unable to formulate words.

"I shot you, yes. Not enough to kill, but I could if I wanted to. I just needed you to shut the hell up! Now, yes, you are correct in that you are bait...because in actuality, I really do want Tyler Johnson. And when Drouin brings him here, you two can be saved, while I snatch and kill him!"