Neon City's arena throbbed like a beating heart. Its steel frame glowed with neon lights, bleeding red and violet into the foggy night. The old coliseum served Viktor's underground empire. It throbbed with a concert-like roar. Thousands of bettors, fixers, and thrill-seekers filled the stands. Their cheers created a deafening wave. Strobe lights cut through the haze. Bass from hidden speakers shook the room. The air felt thick with sweat, smoke, and excitement. Lena, Viktor's tech chief, was meeting important syndicate players tonight. It was a high-stakes summit disguised as a show. Brick and Raven, disguised as waiters, moved quietly through the chaos. Their mission was to eliminate Lena and weaken Viktor.
The safehouse had been their crucible for a day of planning. Brick, Raven, Tara, Eddie, and Doc studied the arena blueprints closely. Eddie hacked into a syndicate server and confirmed Lena's meeting. Brick's tactical shotgun and Raven's semi-auto pistol were hidden. They used waiter trays to cover them. Their graphene armor was under black vests and white shirts. Tara stayed back, guarding Marco, Jace, and Simon in the cell. Eddie monitored comms, and Doc prepped trauma kits, wary of the blood to come.
Brick held a tray of drinks. His scarred knuckles turned white as he scanned the VIP section. Lena's cybernetic eye glinted in the strobe lights. Raven stood next to him, her tray steady. A knife was strapped under her sleeve, and her hazel eyes were sharp. The crowd's roar masked their earpieces, Eddie's voice faint. "Lena's at the north box, with Boris and three goons. Careful Boris is a beast."
"Got it," Brick whispered, moving past the drunks. His limp from the docks was hardly noticeable. "Raven, flank right. We'll hit silent."
Raven nodded, slipping into the crowd, her steps fluid. "Like a ghost," she murmured, her tray brushing a bettor's arm, unnoticed.
The north box stood tall, a glassed-in spot above the arena's cage. Below, fighters warmed up, their shadows flickering. Lena, in a sleek jacket, tapped a tablet, her eye whirring, oblivious. Boris, a mountain of muscle with a shaved head and scarred fists, loomed nearby, his presence a threat. Three goons rifles slung, knives sheathed guarded the door.
Brick approached, tray low, offering drinks. "Vodka, ma'am?" he said, voice smooth. Lena glanced up, distracted, waving him off. Raven ducked behind a goon. Her tray clattered, creating a distraction. The goon turned, and her knife flashed. It sliced his throat, blood spraying in a silent arc. His body slumped before he could scream. Brick dropped his tray and pulled out a hidden blade. He stabbed a goon in the neck. Blood gushed as the man choked and fell, his rifle clattering to the ground.
The third goon lunged with a knife. Raven ducked and kicked his knee. There was a loud crack as his bone snapped. His scream was lost in the crowd's roar. Brick's fist smashed his temple, skull denting, body crumpling. Lena spun, dropping her tablet. Brick was quick. His blade drove into her chest, ribs splitting, blood soaking her jacket. She gasped, her cybernetic eye flickering, and slumped, dead before she hit the floor.
Boris roared, a primal bellow, and charged like a bull. The fight erupted, a brutal clash that shook the box's glass, the crowd's noise a distant thunder. Boris threw a huge punch at Brick's head. Brick dodged just in time. The blow smashed a chair, sending wood flying like kindling. Brick hit Boris hard, his fist crashing into Boris's jaw. Teeth cracked, and blood dripped. But Boris hardly moved. His scarred face broke into a grin.
"You're meat, Jones!" Boris growled, grabbing Brick's arm, twisting it, sinew straining, pain flaring. Brick broke free. His elbow smashed into Boris's nose, crushing cartilage. Blood gushed like a faucet, spraying the glass. Boris stumbled, then lunged at Brick. They collided hard, shaking the floor. Brick gasped when they hit the table. Metal bent, and drinks spilled everywhere.
Raven circled with her pistol drawn. Boris was like a whirlwind. His kick hit her chest. The armor absorbed the blow, but her ribs ached as she skidded. Her pistol skittered away. "Brick, move!"
Brick rolled and grabbed a broken chair leg. He swung it hard. The wood cracked against Boris's ribs. Bones ground together, and Boris grunted loudly. Boris struck back with his fist hitting Brick's thigh. Brick's Muscles tore, blood seeped, and the pain felt like a hot blade. Brick stumbled as his leg buckled. He pushed forward, ramming his shoulder into Boris's chest. They crashed through a glass partition, glass shards raining down. Some cut Brick's arm, and blood trickled down.
The crowd below roared, mistaking the chaos for part of the show. Boris grabbed Brick's throat, fingers like iron, squeezing, Brick's vision darkening. Brick scratched Boris's eyes. His nails dug in, blood flowed, and Boris screamed, dropping his hold. Brick's knee slammed into Boris's groin, flesh bruising, Boris doubling over, gasping. Brick grabbed the chair leg. He smashed it against Boris's arm. There was a sickening snap as the bone broke. Boris's arm dangled, useless. His roar shook the box.
Raven returned, her knife cutting into Boris's thigh. Tendons severed. Blood pooled, and his leg wobbled. "Stay down, Titan!" she hissed, but Boris swung his good arm, fist grazing her jaw, skin splitting, blood dripping. Brick tackled him, both men hitting the floor, concrete cracking under their weight. Brick's fist struck Boris's face, caving in his cheekbone. Blood and sweat mixed. Boris's punches grew weaker. Each hit to Brick's thigh sent pain through his nerves. Blood soaked his pants.
"Enough!" Brick roared as he landed a final punch. It smashed into Boris's temple, denting his skull. Blood oozed out while Boris slumped, unconscious. His arm was twisted at an odd angle, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Brick staggered up, thigh screaming, blood dripping, Raven pulling him. "We're out!" she said, her jaw bruised, knife red.
They stumbled to the box's rear exit, the crowd's din masking their escape. As they went by Lena's body, a shadow darted Jade. Her black coat was a blur as she grabbed Lena's tablet, its screen still shining. Her obsidian eyes met Raven's for a split second, then she vanished into the arena's chaos, a ghost in the strobe lights.
"Jade," Raven muttered, wincing, helping Brick limp to a service corridor, its walls damp with condensation. Eddie's voice crackled in their earpieces. "Cops are sweeping Elena's orders. Get to the bike!"
They burst onto the arena's loading dock, the high-tech bike waiting, its matte-black frame gleaming. Brick, thigh bleeding, mounted with a grunt, Raven behind, her arm around his waist. The engine purred, tires screeching as they roared into the fog, sirens wailing in the distance, Neon City's neon veins swallowing them.
Back at the safehouse, Doc stitched Brick's thigh, the needle biting, blood crusting. "You're a mess, Jones," he grunted, tying off the suture. Raven iced her jaw, her knife cleaned, eyes on a monitor. Tara paced, submachine gun slung, her tic twitching. "Jade's got Lena's tablet," she said. "Betting data, maybe more. She's a step ahead."
Eddie's laptop glowed, probing a dark web server. "Jade's refinery was a decoy," he said, frustrated. "Her real base is unknown. But Lena's tablet might have arena schematics for Viktor's last stand."
Brick, wincing, stood, testing his leg, pain flaring. "Jade's playing both sides. We track her, we find Viktor's heart." Raven nodded, her voice steel. "She's fast, but we're faster."
Doc snorted, packing his kit. "Fast doesn't mean smart. That leak's still out there, someone's feeding Jade."
Tara's eyes narrowed. "Could be Simon, playing us from the cell." Eddie shook his head. "He's locked down. It's someone else."
Brick's fists clenched, the hunt's pulse driving him. "We dig tomorrow. Jade's tablet, Viktor's arena, we end this." The safehouse's walls seemed to tighten, Neon City's war raging, the shadows deepening with every move.