Vaccinated - A Continuation

[mmvmgo2011]

~~SIXTY-FIVE~~

As he left the prison, Jason made a decision. He had a stop to make before seeing Brad.

***

As he was being escorted back to his cell, Jake reversed the calming changes, amping himself up for the confrontation with Miguel. As he jacked up his testosterone production, he felt his balls tingle pleasantly as they responded to his demands. When the torrent began flooding into his system, his entire attitude and demeanour changed as his physique responded to the powerful hormone triggering changes.

His muscles pumped up as they responded to the T, veins engorging and dilating to be able to pump blood into his hardening and swelling muscles. His posture straightened, his gait changed. Before, he was slumped, closed in, submissive. Now, he broadened his chest as it puffed out, his shoulders pulled back, arms pushed out by his flaring lats. His cock chubbed as it, too, reacted to the masses of testosterone surging through it. He widened his stance as the pump in his thighs pushed his legs outward; his bulge up and out.

The change was dramatic, even Felipe commented, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Change from an inconspicuous nobody that no one would look twice at - even with your rig - to someone that instantly commands attention, commands respect.”

“It’s all in the attitude, mate.” It was 95% true. The raging masculine hormones - the power coursing through his veins - helped with the attitude, of course. As they got closer to his cell, Jake ramped up his production of pheromones, waves of dominance, strength, power emanating from him. You just had to look at him to realise he was the alpha, the master. Add in the odourless pheromones, and that only emphasised that fact. It was a heady, potent mix that was near impossible to resist. For Miguel, who already experienced a taste of Jake’s ability, of what he could give him, resistance was… yes, futile.

***

“I’m sorry, sir, Mr Smith is busy.”

“He will see me, I’m sure. Tell him it’s about the Hermanos.”

Smith’s assistant buzzed him on the intercom. Smith answered, sounding puffed, “Yes? I told you I was not to be disturbed.”

“Yes, apologies, but there’s a Mr Robertson here who says that you will want to see him. He says it’s about the Hermanos.”

A heavy sigh came through the intercom, “Send him in.”

“Mr Smith will see you now.”

Jason entered through the double doors.

***

The room reeked of cum. Smith was flushed. No doubt he’d just been masturbating.

“What do you want Robertson? I’m busy.”

“I can see - and smell - that,” Jason said wryly. “I’m withdrawing my complaint against my brother.”

Smith laughed, a hearty belly laugh. “Bullshit you are!”

“Careful Smith. You know what I know, what you did.”

“What *I* did? I’m surprised… you’ve got balls Robertson. Not like your brother, but still. I didn’t do anything. You’re the one that paid off the Hermanos for a hit on your brother. I’m sure if I was to open an investigation, we’d find a withdrawal of $25,000 from your bank account…” He left the rest unspoken. “No, I don’t think so, Robertson. You’re going to go through with the case, and you’re going to make a compelling witness. Do I make myself clear?”

“No. I’m not. I’m done. I’m out. Drop the charges.”

“You still don’t get it. You don’t get to call the shots. I do. You WILL be a witness, and you WILL be compelling, selling the fuck out of your story. Otherwise you’ll join your brother and you can both rot in prison. Perjury, obstruction, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder… do I need to keep going?”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because your brother is a menace to society, that’s why. An attractive, powerful fucker that thinks he’s above the law, that he can skate by on his good looks and even better body, that everyone will bow down and back down. That, and because I can. And, like you, besting him arouses me. I’ve blown so many loads over him begging me, pleading to set him free, that I’ve lost count.”

“You’re sick, Smith.” Coming from Jason, that was saying something.

***

Pulling into the car park, Jason was intimidated, nervous. For people like him, gyms were not friendly places. A place for working out, getting fit and strong, losing fat seemed like exactly the place he needed. But most gyms, and especially BJ’s, were full of attractive, already fit, already strong, massively muscular people, with the fat and unfit few and far between. The irony, not lost on him.

Of course, Jason didn’t realise that BJ’s had a strict policy for all its members, that all were welcome. Fat, thin, unfit, short, tall, ultra fit, Olympia winners - it didn’t matter - at BJ’s they were all the same, with all members expected to treat others with respect and tolerance. Just ask Jim and his hapless offsider. When they tried to bully Scott, Brad cancelled their membership on the spot. No refunds.

He walked in, approaching the reception desk. “H- hi. I’m here to see Brad.”

“No problem!” The perky blonde behind the desk bubbled, “I’ll let him know you’re here. Your name?”

“Jason.”

“Okay, take a seat Jason.”

***

Brad usually looked like he’d rip you apart, but when he heard Jason was here to see him, his visage darkened with fury. He stormed over to reception.

“What are you doing here Jason?”

“H- hi- Hi B- Br- Brad. I went to see Jake, and he told me to come and see you. Can we talk in private somewhere?”

“Follow me.”

Brad led him through the gym to the suite of offices located in the centre of the facility. Jason’s eyes bugged out, he didn’t know where to look first. Everywhere he turned, hot bodies, many wearing not much, in various poses, doing various movements… how could anyone stay in here any length of time and not be aroused? His thoughts quickly shifted gear as they entered Brad’s office.

“What do you want?”

“I-,” he swallowed, but the lump in his throat remained, “I have to pay the Hermanos. I HAVE to. But I don’t have the mon–”

“So Jake sent you here, to me, to see if we could lend you the money?”

Jason nodded.

“I’m sorry, but we just don’t have the cash flow right now. There’s about 10k in the operating account, and we have a 50k limit on our overdraft. If you’d asked me a few days ago, I could’ve spoken to our bank manager, probably scrounged up the funds, but we’re pretty much tapped out.”

“Then, I’m fucked.”

“I can give you 50, but that’s not going to cut it. Have you got anything, at all?” Brad felt sorry - not for Jason - but for his family, put at risk because of their moron father, through no fault of their own. And, again, he liked Scott, felt as though he was responsible for his safety and wellbeing while Jake was in prison. If anything happened to him under his watch…

“I have maybe ten thousand I can get together.” Jason sat, head hung low, staring at his hands.

“You stupid fucking moron… how could you do something so fucking stupid? Your own brother! My best friend.”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture, I–”

Brad’s temper flared. He never liked this cunt from the moment they first met, and he was doing nothing to change that opinion. “Get the fuck out of my gym! You fucking dare to come in here begging me for money, and you don’t want to hear a lecture? You’re lucky I don’t rip your fucking head off you stupid cunt. Fuck off out of my sight!” How could Jake and his brother be so very different, he thought.

Jason, wisely, fled.

[mmvmgo2011]

~~SIXTY-SIX~~

Miguel was bouncing up and down on his toes, waiting for Felipe to open the cell door, and Jake to return back to the cell.

Jake stood silently, holding his hands out for Felipe to unlock the shackles, and then quietly walked into the cell and sat on his bunk, saying nothing. Felipe closed the cell door and left.

Miguel was buzzing in Jake’s ear. He wasn’t paying any attention to what he was saying, concentrating instead on listening to Felipe’s footsteps receding.

Jake waited until he could no longer hear any footsteps, and then waited another minute, before rounding on Miguel. He leapt from the bunk, surprising Miguel, slamming him, hard, against the opposite cell wall. His arm was held across his throat, cutting off his air supply.

“We had a deal you fucker!”

“C-c-a-can’t b-b-br-breathe, e-es-e-ese!” Jake ever so slightly reduced the pressure of his arm on Miguel’s throat. He coughed, “What are you talking about Jake?”

“My brother! You fuckers were supposed to hold off, back off until I was back, until we could sort it out!”

Miguel looked confused, “But, Jake, I did tell them to back off. My instructions were clear.”

“Either you’re bullshitting me, or your ‘brothers’ aren’t following your orders. Either way, you’re fucked.”

“Jake, ese, I promise you. We had a deal. I fucking want you to fuck me again and amp me up. Fuuuuck, I NEED it, ese. You think I’d jeopardise that?”

“So your brothers are ignoring your orders?”

Miguel looked confused. “Not as far as I know, there’s been no inkling of any challenge or anything like that.”

There was a pause. Then, together, they said, “Enrique!”

“I’m sorry, ese, it must be him. He only returned back to the prison yesterday, but I haven’t been able to speak with him, none of our meal and yard times matched yesterday. He must’ve ordered the boys to chase the payment. As you can imagine, this is a sensitive topic, not something I’d trust to any other brother to pass along.”

“We have to stop it! They’re going to go after my nephew, Miguel!”

“I don’t know that we can, ese, I’m sorry. Enrique’s the leader - if he doesn’t change his mind, and even that’s difficult. Changing his mind is a sign of weakness, he won’t do it lightly.”

***

Enrique was in the yard, surrounded by Hermanos. What the fuck was Miguel thinking? he thought. For some reason, Miguel had ordered that the debt recovery against the Robertson brother be put on hold. He couldn’t understand it.

“What did he say to you? Exactly.”

“He said to hold off on the Robertson guy until he said otherwise.”

“That’s it?

“Sorry, ese, that’s it.”

“No explanation?”

”Explanation?” he looked confused, “we follow orders, we don’t question.”

“Of course. You’ve done well. Where is it at now?”

“He still hasn’t paid. It’s due at 5pm today.”

“And what of the consequences? Are they in place for when he doesn’t pay?”

“Yes, it’s all ready, awaiting your order.”

“Good. Consider it a standing order. He doesn’t pay, carry out the next phase of encouragement, immediately.”

“Of course, ese.”

That’s how it’s done, thought Enrique. The Hermanos are known for their brutality, their viciousness. What the fuck was Miguel thinking?

***

“Call the guard,” Jake said, as he removed his dick and started stroking. He was already amped up, already ready to blow at will.

“Guard!” Miguel bashed on the bars.

A few moments later, “You better be fucking dying in there, inmate.” Galloway. Perfect. Jake smiled. Miguel, anticipating Jake’s plan, knelt to his side, ready to attack his cock, suck down his magical seed.

Galloway frowned, “You called me over to watch you suck cock? Inmate, I’m going to–” Jake let loose a massive rope his aim, as usual, on point. The cum hit Galloway squarely in the face, his mouth opened mid-word. Jake’s smile widened to a grin as his cum-bomb hit home. That, and Miguel going to town on his cock, sucking down the rest of his load like a man possessed.

Galloway was incensed. “You FUCKER! You’re going to regret that,” he said, using his sleeve to wipe away the cum.

“I doubt that,” said Jake, instructing his sperm to burrow.

Galloway unlocked the cell door and removed his taser from its holster. Jake laughed. “Come on, Galloway. You don’t give up, do you? You need to accept when you’re bested.” Jake’s ejaculation was done, Miguel suckling down every drop, licking his lips, rubbing his bulge.

“You need to learn your place, inmate. You–” His voice gave out, mid-sentence. Jake smiled. “Learn my place? My place is as your superior, your master.” Jake instructed Galloway’s legs to walk him forward, the movement’s jerky, unsteady - he was out of practice, and controlling muscles directly was difficult, very sensitive to even the minutest changes. There was a reason it took babies around two years to learn to be steady on their feet.

Jake was focussed on Galloway, failing to notice Miguel slipping out of the cell, surreptitiously stealing Galloway’s swipe card as he passed by.

Galloway’s eyes were saucers, and he was making guttural sounds, trying to speak, but unable to.

“You were going to teach me a lesson, I believe? But it’s you that needs to learn a lesson.” Jake made him raise his arm, again the movement jerky and unsteady, and then bent his elbow, the taser pressing into his abdomen. The guttural noises from Galloway’s throat increased, tears welling in his eyes as he furiously shook his head. “You dole out threats and lord your power over inmates, it’s about time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

Jake made Galloway’s grip on the taser tighten, triggering it. Galloway crumpled, even as the taser continued discharging into his abdomen. As he fell, he convulsed from the taser. Jake released the grip, the taser shutting off.

Jake was rock hard, reminded how good it felt to be the master, to be in complete control, to own another completely.

Galloway had stopped convulsing, and was trying to sit up. His eyes pleading where his voice could not.

“You know, I don’t actually need the taser to punish you. Shall I demonstrate?” He grabbed his turgid cock, a shiver of arousal passing through him, and began stroking slowly, stretching his foreskin over the glans.  Galloway was furiously shaking his head.

“You’re going to change your attitude, be a fair guard, not threaten inmates without cause.” He emulated the effects of the taser, gently at first, only it was as though a thousand tasers were active all over his body. Galloway squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing quickened. It was not quite painful, not yet. But nor was it comfortable. “Well?” Jake amped up the intensity, Galloway groaning, his body writhing with the pain. He nodded furiously. Jake stopped the pain. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

Jake restored his vocal cords, “Now, get out of my sight.” Galloway scrambled up and ran out of the cell, not even bothering to lock the door behind him.

Jake could sense Miguel, anxiety, excitement, adrenaline all flooding through him. What was he up to?

[mmvmgo2011]

~~SIXTY-SEVEN~~

The minute hand ticked over to the 12. Five pm. Jason was at home. It was a Saturday, and there was no point in him going to his work car park to meet the Hermanos - he had nothing to give them. He had no doubt they would find him, anyway.

Find him, they did.

***

The body was discovered just after lunch. When Enrique failed to show for lunch, his Hermano brothers reported the unusual (lack of) activity. His throat was slit, his artery sliced clean in two. He’d bled out before he even realised what was happening.

The prison was in lockdown - all prisoners locked in their cells - as the death was investigated by local law enforcement. There were some assaults, some murders that even this prison couldn’t cover up.

***

Word spread in a prison surprisingly quickly. Within minutes of the body being discovered, the whole prison knew Enrique, leader of the Hermanos, was dead. Slain in his cell.

Jake knew exactly who had killed him. “Miguel… what did you do?”

“What I had to, ese. You don’t have to worry about your brother, now, about your family. I’ve already passed on the updated orders.”

He’d killed Enrique so he could override his orders? That wasn’t what Jake had intended. On the one hand, he was grateful, he didn’t have to worry about Scott being harmed but, on the other, someone was killed. Not something he was comfortable with, not what he wanted.

“The only issue is this fucking lockdown. Until it’s lifted, there’s no way to get my new orders out to the brothers on the outside. As far as they’re concerned, Enrique’s orders still stand.”

Fuck. He looked at the clock. A bit after 4pm, and no sign of the lockdown being lifted. Even if it was lifted immediately, it would take time for Miguel’s orders to filter through to the right guys.

***

Jason heard yelling outside. “Yo, PUTO! Show yourself!”

So, this was it. He sighed, resigned to his fate. He stood up and walked to the front door, opening it.

“There he is. The man of the hour. Where’s our money, puto? We don’t appreciate being stood up.”

“I don’t have it,” barely a whisper.

“Eh? You hear that?” he turned to the other Hermano, an equally large, equally intimidating hulk, “it sounded like he said he doesn’t have it.”

“Please,” Jason begged.

The two hulking enforcers pushed their way into Jason’s home, closing the door behind them.

***

Jason screamed, the enforcer twisting and breaking his arm. “You stood us up, puto! Nobody stands up the Hermanos.”

Jason whimpered, adrenaline dulling the excruciating pain. “Please,” he begged again.

“You were warned that there would be consequences. It’s time for those consequences.”

The Hermano produced a tablet from his bag, just as a video call was coming through. He handed the tablet to Jason. “Answer it.”

It was Maria, NO! “Mari-” his voice broke, she had been beaten, a large bruise on her face, her hair dishevelled. She had been crying. No, was crying.

“Jason, I love–” Before she could finish her sentence, a large brute stepped into the frame and punched her in the face. She cried out in pain, a large cut opened up, and began bleeding. Jason winced, tears streaming from his face. Maria! NO!

“They killed Kathy!” She managed to sob, before another punch. “You were told to be quiet!”

She whimpered, holding her face, blood running down her hand from the cut.

Jason blanched. They had already killed! He began sobbing, mewling, an ugly sound. “Maria, I love you. I’m sorr–” He flinched as Maria’s face exploded, the sound of the gunshot echoing moments later.

He dropped the tablet. Shock and horror freezing him up. MARIA! The image of her destroyed face would never leave him, would haunt him forever.

***

Scott heard the front door open. Brad was home early, he thought.

“Scott? You here?” Brad questioned.

“In my room,” he yelled back.

Scott heard the floor creak as Brad made his way to his room. He knocked. “Yeah, come in.”

“Scott, I need you to prep a go bag.”

“Go bag?”

“A small bag with only the essentials for a few days. We need to leave, NOW.”

“What?! What’s going on?”

“Please, just trust me. And hurry up. Only the essentials. Leave your phone.”

“My phone?! Brad, what–”

“Scott! I’m trying to save your life! Just do as I say please. I don’t have time to explain.”

***

The Hermano retrieved the tablet, answering his phone. “Understood.”

“Now that you realise the consequences of your failure to pay… you have until 10am, otherwise Scott will suffer the consequences of your default. We’ve already got a team on the way to collect him, make sure you pay up.”

Jason barely registered what he was saying. They left him, still in shock, catatonic, his mind still trying to process what had just happened. He was no longer crying, he was numb, he didn’t even feel his broken arm, his brain refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

***

What felt like only a minute later, Brad was back at Scott’s door. Scott gaped, he looked like some sort of commando. He wore all black and had on a bulletproof vest, his face painted with camouflage paint. Scott couldn’t help it, he laughed.

Brad frowned. “It’s not fucking funny, mate. I’m trying to keep you alive. Do you get that? Chances are your mum and dad are probably dead already.” He didn't have the heart to tell him the truth, let him have hope for a while longer.

“WHAT?!”

“Come on, MOVE! We don’t have time.” Brad threw a small bag at Scott, and then began rifling through his things, throwing various items at him as he determined what was useful and what wasn’t.

“Brad? What are you talking about? Why do you look like a commando?”

“Just pack. I’ll explain once we’re on the move.” Brad grabbed Scott’s phone and closed his fist around it, crushing it into fine pieces.

“HEY!”

“SCOTT!” Brad yelled, exasperated. How could he make the kid understand the urgency, the danger? He grabbed his arms, his huge mitts wrapping around his stick-like upper arms, “IF YOU DON’T HURRY UP, YOU’LL DIE, WE BOTH WILL. NOW MOVE!”

***

A small corner of Jason’s brain was screaming - SCOTT! He needed to try and save Scott!

Somehow, he managed to dial his phone, “Jason, you need to stop calling me. I’ve already told you there’s nothin–”

“Maria is dead. They shot her in the face. They’re coming for Scott” His voice was flat, detached.

“FUCK!” Brad terminated the call, and raced off to his ute.

***

Not two minutes later, they were in Brad’s garage. Scott had a commando outfit of his own, it was a little large, but would have to do. He also had a bulletproof vest.

Scott expected them to get into Brad’s ute, but Brad moved to the back of the garage, and pressed a hidden button. Scott gaped as an entire wall slid aside, revealing a vehicle he had never seen, as Brad moved to the boot of the car, dropping off their bags, Scott saw it was full of enough weapons and ammunition to stock an army.

“Have you ever shot a gun?”

“No.”

Brad grabbed a handgun, checking the magazine and the chamber. “Here’s the safety - when you’re ready to shoot, flick it to this setting, point, line up and lightly pull the trigger. Aim for the centre of the chest. Don’t try and be fancy and go for head shots. There’s virtually no recoil. Once we’re somewhere safer, we’ll practice.”

It was all becoming more real for Scott.

“Get in, we have to go.” Brad pressed another hidden button, the false wall slid back into place and an exit opened up behind the vehicle.

Brad pulled out, and the opening closed again, leaving no inkling that there was an opening there, even if you knew where to look.

Brad - or was it Batman, thought Scott - gunned it. Neither of them had yet noticed the vehicle following well back so as not to be seen.

[Ro20316]

It's too late for Jason now. There is no way Scott will forgive him or want to have some sort of relationship after what happened. The Hermanos Killed Maria and her sister cause of Jason and his vendetta agains Jake and even after everything he had done Maria still loved him. It's sad reallly she paid for his actions.

[portamivia]

Dark turn, eh?

[mmvmgo2011]

3 minutes ago, portamivia said:

Dark turn, eh?

It's been building for a while. The question is, how dark will it go...

I agree with Ro - feel sorry for Jason's family, paying for his stupidity.

[ploder4]

I could imagine Scott thinking Brad was Batman or some other kind of superhero... etc.  Apparently Brad has some military experience?   (I might have missed this or forgotten it in the first story)

[mmvmgo2011]

4 hours ago, ploder4 said:

I could imagine Scott thinking Brad was Batman or some other kind of superhero... etc.  Apparently Brad has some military experience?   (I might have missed this or forgotten it in the first story)

There were some hints of a military past scattered around, but no details. Scott should get more out of him over the next few chapters.

[Ro20316]

10 hours ago, portamivia said:

Dark turn, eh?

It has already when Jake controlled, raped? those guys agains their will

[mmvmgo2011]

~~SIXTY-EIGHT~~

“Okay, what’s going on?” Scott asked. “What’s with the commando getup? The arsenal?”

Brad had refused to talk until they left the city limits, claiming he needed to keep alert while there were so many other vehicles around. They were now on a rural highway, having left the city limits about 20 minutes ago.

“I used to be in the army. Special Forces under Special Operations Command. When Angelina fell pregnant, I quit. That’s no life for a father. They didn’t want to let me go - I was one of their most decorated, deadliest soldiers, even though I barely made it through basic training - cardio fitness has never been my strong suit. And, truth be told, I didn’t want to quit, so we came up with a compromise. I’m a consultant, not quite a civilian, not quite part of the military. I stand outside the formal chain of command, but I outrank even the Special Operations Commander, standing between him and the Secretary of Defence. But, of course, you’ve never heard of me, we’re ghosts, nobody knows who we are, and our accolades are all internal, forever sealed. So now that I’ve told you, I have to kill you.”

Scott chuckled, “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Jake knows, and you know, and that’s about it. It’s not something I like to advertise, for obvious reasons.”

Scott looked impressed. He knew nothing of military ranks, but he knew that if Brad stood above the SOC Commander, he was fucking important. “So you don’t get deployed?”

“No, but I’m still often consulted when they’re planning offensives or campaigns, and I’ve been tempted to go in and help the boys when they fall into the shit. Especially now, with my super strength. Not every assault goes to plan. Anyway, enough about me. Your dad’s message, about the bad guys threatening?”

“Yeah.”

“He wasn’t kidding. They’ve already come after your mum and dad, and they’re after you too.”

“Me?!? Why? What did I do?!”

Brad looked uncomfortable. How much should he say? “Your dad owes some bad people a lot of money, and they think he’ll pay if they come after his family.”

Scott frowned, “How much does he owe?”

“$250,000. And he would pay, if he could. We - BJ’s, the gym - would’ve lent him the money, but we just don’t have that sort of cash flow on such short notice right now.”

“$250,000! What the fuck? What for?”

There it was, the question that he didn’t want. That he shouldn’t answer. “It’s not really my place to say, kiddo, once this blows over, you should probably ask your dad.”

“Come on, Brad. You said it yourself, they’re after mum and dad, they might not even be around for me to ask them.” He was pretty flippant when he said that, thought Brad, if only he knew.

“I guess you should know what you’re up against. It’s the Hermanos.”

“The HERMANOS?!?! How the fuck has he gotten himself mixed up wit–” And then, it hit him. He was a smart kid, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and come up with the fact that his father is a fucking prick. “No! NO! HE DIDN’T! TELL ME HE DIDN’T DO THAT!”

Brad felt sorry for the kid. What could he say? He didn’t want to lie to him, but he didn’t want to confirm anything either.

“That’s why Uncle Jake nearly died? And now we’re at risk too? If we survive, I’m going to kill him myself!”

“Scott, don’t say that.” Brad was concerned, Scott’s tone was dangerous, he meant what he’d said, it was no idle threat. “He’s your fath–”

“NO! I disown him. Whatever it’s called. Emancipated. But I’m an adult, so it’s not even that. I don’t want to be his son, don’t want him to have anything to do with me ever again! I hope the Hermanos find him, and I hope they kill him, slowly, painfully.”

“Scott!”

“I mean it! I hope he–”

He never got to finish his sentence as their vehicle was T-boned, flipping end over end several times, coming to rest by the side of the road, upside down.

***

Brad was kicking himself. How could he allow himself to become so distracted he didn’t see the attack coming? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

To be fair, they picked a perfect spot for the ambush, around a blind corner, their vehicle hidden by a dense thicket of tall shrubbery that stretched off nearly perpendicular to the roadway as far as the eye could see.

The interior on his side of the vehicle was totally destroyed, not from the other vehicle ramming them, from Brad’s body slamming into the various surfaces as the vehicle flipped end over end. His dense muscles like granite boulders slamming into the dash, the door’s interior panels, the steering wheel, destroying all around him. His seatbelt snapped as soon as his body stretched it with the initial impact.

He turned to look at Scott. He was unconscious. At least, he hoped he was unconscious. He, otherwise, did not appear outwardly injured. The ramming vehicle struck the B pillar, which thankfully absorbed most of the force, and prevented Scott’s side of the vehicle from caving inward, crushing him.

“Scott, wake up, buddy. We have to move!” He felt for a pulse and breathing - both appeared normal, thank fuck! He tried again, louder, more insistent, “Scott! Wake up, mate! Come on, we need to move!”

He looked over at the other vehicle. Thankfully, the impact appeared to jam their doors closed, the sheet metal deforming preventing the doors from opening. It wouldn’t stop them for long, but it would delay them, hopefully just enough.

Scott groaned, his eyelids fluttering. “SCOTT! Come on, bud, wake up!” Brad smashed open the door on his side, crawling out. His gun had been thrown somewhere into the interior of the car, so he retrieved another from the boot.

He walked over to the other vehicle, the two occupants were nearly Brad’s size, both barely fitting within the crumpled space. They still appeared a little dazed, powder residue from the explosive airbag deployment still floating in the air. Brad could not see any weapons, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe they weren’t packing.

The force of the impact, and their size and lack of flexibility had them temporarily trapped, Brad thought he would make it even more difficult for them.

He jumped up onto the roof of their car, and began jumping up and slamming down, the roof caving in beneath his mass, and the power of his legs smashing down. Once the rear half of the roof was flattened, preventing them from moving to the back seat, he jumped down and moved to the front of the vehicle.

He reached his fingers beneath the front edge of the bonnet and flexed, his fingers bending the steel, giving him access to the latch holding the bonnet shut. He reached in and pinched the latch between his thumb and forefinger, his crushing grip twisting the metal and snapping the latch, allowing him to lift the bonnet free. He raised it up as wide as it would open, then pushed it further, breaking the heavy sheet metal free of the gas struts, allowing him to flip the bonnet up against the windscreen.

He worked quickly, his forearms pumping up, vascularity engorging as he wrapped the edges of the bonnet around the windscreen, enclosing the Hermanos within.

The last task was to prevent them exiting through the front windows, though it looked to him that they wouldn’t fit, he made sure of it by crushing the roof down on either side, cocooning them with a shell of metal.

It wouldn’t prevent them from escaping indefinitely, but he bought them enough time - he hoped - for help to arrive.

***

Safe from a surprise attack, at least for now, Brad raced back to his vehicle. He ripped the passenger door off, gently reaching in and pulling Scott free, snapping the seatbelt with ease, as if it wasn’t even there.

Scott was regaining consciousness. He tried to sit up.

“Don’t try to move yet. Are you okay?”

He groaned, “I think so. A little banged up, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

“Lay still. I’ll call for help.” He retrieved the burner phone from the purpose-sewn pocket, and dialled.

“Thank fuck, Diego. It’s Brad. I– We– need your help.”

“Scott and I. The Hermanos are after us - him, really. We’ve just been rammed by a couple of enforcers. They’re trapped in their vehicle for now, but no doubt more are on the way. And they won’t be trapped forever.”

“Out on Highway 1, about 20 kilometres from the city limits, heading east. I’ll send you GPS coordinates.”

“I think he’s okay. He was unconscious for a minute or two, but he’s awake and alert.”

“No! No ambos, no official cops… Come on, mate, you know the Hermanos… they can get to him in hospital, or in your custody. No offence.”

He looked over at Scott, getting up and walking off a ways, lowering his voice, “Mate, they’ve already killed his mother. I don’t know about his father - he warned me, but I haven’t heard anything further since then.”

“About an hour ago, hour and a half.”

“Anyway, we need a car. Can you get here asap?”

“We’ll be waiting.”

“No, I can handle these two, but if more are on their way… just get here as fast as you can.”