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The Champion

By Cris Fireheart / Ken Anderson

Chapter 13 – A Change of Plans, Part 1 of 2

Author's note: This story contains scenes of extreme violence, profanity, drug and alcohol use, sale, and abuse, and some sexual situations. Reader discretion is DEFINITELY advised. That being said, if none of that bothers you, then enjoy!

As ever, any comments, watches, faves, or votes are well appreciated!

Now, things have gotten real. Connor has been abducted, and the fight still has to go on as planned. However, things are about to take an unexpected turn. James, feeling betrayed by the actions of his once-best friend, has decided to turn the odds in their favor...

This chapter was actually so long, I had to split it into two separate entries.

For those who know how I like a soundtrack to certain chapters, the song for this two part entry can be found here:

https://youtu.be/sxQXnRhHJQ8?si=7\_JwAzyzaZxUYiXT

Messiah, by Dead Celebrity Status.

--C

The trip to the warehouses at the Harbor City Docks, the venue that James and the others had chosen for the fight, was fraught with tension and rage in the air. James himself was seated on the passenger side of Marco's heavily-armored SUV, accompanied by Ricky, Victor, Robert, and Marco himself, who sat at the wheel. Jake, Lenny, and the others had all piled into Ricky's truck, which cruised directly behind the large SUV, followed by the Fenders in their own car as their makeshift convoy continued to speed along the inner-loop freeway, making good time as the large group continued towards their final destination.

James had a furious look drawn across his normally serene face as he angrily puffed on a cigarette, before jamming a hand into the inside pocket of the bulletproof suit he'd chosen to wear for this excursion to retrieve his cell phone. Quickly tapping in a number, he raised the headset to his ear as the connecting tones began to sound. A few seconds later, there was a silence as two lines were finally connected.

“You broke the fuckin' rules, Damien," James' voice came out as a throaty growl. “Taking Connor was a big fuckin' mistake. I thought we'd both agreed that there would be no outside influence?!"

“James, I SWEAR to you on my honor as King of the Pride, and as your FRIEND, that it wasn't my idea to kidnap the Middleweight Champion! It seems like my new... associates felt they needed more leverage in order to convince you to go through with the fight. Again, I had NO IDEA that this could happen!"

“New associates!?" James repeated, his scowl having not left his face as he took in the new information. “What new associates?" Holding out the phone towards the middle of the truck, he clicked the icon to put the call on speakerphone. The older lion's voice began to permeate the cabin as they all waited for answers.

“The remaining four heads of the Council of Canines approached me unanimously a few nights after we last met at your home. They were aware that you, Binetti, and the rest of your associates were planning on merging your crews; starting your own coalition. HOW they got that information, I swear I don't know. Needless to say, they were enraged. They offered my Pride a temporary truce with the possibility of a future partnership in order to allow them to send your new 'alliance' a message, and the next thing I knew, I get a phone call from one of their soldiers, saying that a few of their people who'd been keeping an eye on my fighter had spotted a few of your men conducting surveillance as well, and that they were told to shoot them and take the Fox back alive--"

“--THE FUCKIN' COUNCIL?!" came Marco's roar of rage as he tried his best to keep his cool while driving. “Those bastards KNOW what will happen if they decide to turn against ME! They accused me of betrayal, didn't they?!"

“In so many words, yes," came Iggy's reply. “So they offered me a truce; at least until this business tonight has been concluded... On another note... How are my sons?"

“They're fine for now!" came Ricky's enraged voice from the backseat. “Henry's with his brother and his uncle, and they're on the way to the venue with us. Between you and me, Mr. Rhah, I don't care that it wasn't you who gave the order. I warned you what was gonna happen if you or your people ever fucked with us again! Before tonight is over, I WILL have my Fox back, and you can guarantee there WILL be bodies dropped for this bullshit!"

_ “Mr. Davis, I fully understand how you feel. But unless you've all brought an entire army with you tonight, I have serious doubts as to whether or not you would be successful. I strongly suggest you all exercise caution; we've all arrived with bodyguards and over a dozen soldiers who are ready to kill at a moment's notice. And if my sons are with you, these mutts might just kill them both by association! I'm begging you all, PLEASE, don't make things any worse for me than they already are!"_

“Damien... If you didn't want to start a WAR, you should never have sided with the Council. Or did you just happen to forget that their leaders hate your Pride and your Gathering of felines just as much as they hate US?" James heaved a sigh as he shook his head in disappointment. “However, as I said earlier, you all changed the rules when you took one of ours. Which means, by rights, I intend to make a couple of changes of my own. I'll give you ONE single piece of advice, though, as an old friend... When it happens? RUN. I'm sure your sons would be very disappointed if you were caught in the crossfire."

With that, the older man ended the call, before angrily jamming his cell phone back into the inner pocket of his custom suit.

“...Rick?" James called back to the rear seat. The young man seemed to flinch slightly, before he slowly turned his head to meet the older man's gaze.

“Breathe, Davis. And remember your part in the new plan. The Fenders will be staying ringside with you, Me, Marco, Lenny, Henry and Rory; we're all armed to the teeth, and we'll be watching over the match while making sure that nobody on our side of the crowd tries anything, while Marco, Robert, Victor and I will put our plans into motion before and during the fight. Don't worry; before this is all over, I GUARANTEE that your mate will be safely back in your arms... And that the Council and the Pride will both be learning a hard-taught lesson in humility for fucking with ME. I don't let anybody kidnap one of my family. And make no mistake, Rick; you and Connor are family to me."

“Thank you, sir. It means a lot... But I might feel a little better if you would tell me exactly HOW you're gonna make sure we get Connor back... Not to mention how we're supposed to get Ted to win this fight." Ricky muttered, as he raised his thick arms into his lap, and began to pop the joints on his knuckles.

“I know it's not the best pep-talk I could give you, but I need you to really trust me on this one. We WILL get Connor back, along with those Pride and Council bastards who decided that taking him for leverage was a good idea. And don't worry; I'm gonna explain it to all of you as best as I can once we get there. While the crowd and all of their people standing on the other side are distracted by the fight, we'll be hitting them where it hurts and when they least expect it. Quick and dirty, just like they did to us. Don't forget, we have plenty of allies, along with a couple of new weapons that they don't know about yet, with a pair of VERY experienced wielders for them.

James turned his head to face the wolf, whose muzzle had contorted itself into a toothy snarl. “Marco? Now that my original hunch that the Council is involved has been proven correct, I'd say it's about time for your pack to get involved as well. Are you still in?" James continued, ignoring Ricky's muttered rebuttal for the moment.

The wolf let out a deep growl through gritted teeth as he quickly considered his options. “Give me your phone," he muttered as he reached a paw out towards James, who silently acquiesced. “You were right. The Council didn't just fuck with US, they fucked with MY Family as well. I need to make a call to set some things up."

James gave a single nod of his head as he handed his phone to the wolf, who quickly tapped in a number, before beginning a long, angry-sounding conversation in Italian as soon as the other end of the line was picked up. After nearly five minutes of rapid-fire speech, he ended the call, before handing the device back to James.

“That was Giancarlo, my Beta," Marco explained, “I just gave him a rundown of our situation; he's coming to meet us himself, along with a detachment of a half-dozen of our best soldiers to back us up on this operation. They'll rendezvous with us somewhere near the location in ten minutes. Robert?" The wolf called behind him, earning a nod from the panther in the rear-view mirror.

“They'll all be dressed in civilian clothes. I've told Giancarlo that he and his forces will be under YOUR direct command for this op. Don't worry; they know you're a feline, and they know who you are, but since I've told them who you currently work for, there were no objections to the order. They've said that they'll meet you on foot out of sight of the venue, in the alleyway directly between one of the adjacent warehouses. Your job is to quietly take out the guards standing watch over the back doors and make your entry from there. At that point, you'll need to spread out your troops and blend in with the crowd, until you can all get as close as possible to the Council and Pride's soldiers without being noticed."

“I'm pretty confident that I can handle that. So, you're giving me a team of wolves, sir?" Robert asked as he leaned forward to hear Marco more clearly.

“Indeed," came the grizzled Alpha's growled response. “Don't worry, they've been very well-trained, so they'll have no problems following your orders. My Beta, Giancarlo, will be the tall red wolf; he'll make sure they all stay in line."

“Understood. Weirdly enough, I actually feel kind of honored. So, after we infiltrate and surround their soldiers, what should we do, sir?"

“You wait for our signal," Came the response from James, who'd turned his head to face the others in the back seat.

“What's the signal, and what's our move, sir?"

“The moment Kenneth Markus falls dead onto the floor will distract everyone for at least a few seconds and might even cause a loud commotion. Some of the crowd may panic, but that could work out in our favor. During that time, we'll make sure to get Connor back to safety on our side of the room. Once he's out of the way, however, Marco will give his signal, and--"

“-- You and my crew will take out as much of the Pride and the Council's soldiers as you can." Marco finished for him. “Try to leave Iggy Rhah and the four other Canine heads alive, if possible. I've got words for a few of those bastards once this is all over with... Giancarlo will be bringing recent photos of each of them with him, along with a silencer for your current weapon and a comm device for your ear. Your part in this requires a stealth approach, Agent Marshall."

“Damn... I knew you guys had serious resources, but I didn't know the Binetti Mafia used that kind of tech and did that kind of surveillance, sir." Robert chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, we've all evolved since the old days, Agent Marshall," Marco responded, smirking into the mirror. “Besides, as I'm sure you well know, most of the major members of our little group here have served time overseas in the Marine corps together. Trust me, you learn the value of having good, solid intelligence and conducting adequate surveillance, when having a single misinterpretation, or not receiving a single important message results in getting multiple members of your squad killed..."

The conversation went silent for a few moments, until Marco suddenly cleared his throat, and nodded out the front window as he pulled into the entrance gate which led to the empty warehouses that lined the old Harbor City docks. “Get ready everyone; we're almost there."

Turning to face Victor, James gave a slight nod of his head, which the old fox returned. Robert gave an almost imperceptible nod himself, before removing the pistol from his waistband and performing a quick check on his weapon.

“I've got my side of things handled, sirs." The Panther reassured them all.

“We're pulling up on the drop spot now," came Marco's voice from behind the wheel as they slowly pulled to a stop next to what looked like a deserted alleyway between two large, dark-painted warehouses.

“Robert, you should head out to meet with Marco's men." James instructed, drawing a nod from the panther as he quickly exited the vehicle, before pulling up the hood on his jacket and briskly jogging in the direction that he'd been told to go.

“I know it shouldn't have to be said, but we should all seriously get ready. Something tells me that them taking Connor might not be the only surprise we're gonna be dealing with tonight." Marco muttered as they continued towards the large stretch of empty warehouses, one of which had been 'taken over' to host the fight. James couldn't help but nod his head.

“I agree." James nodded solemnly. “Which is why we're not gonna be pulling any punches tonight. No matter what they think they can come up with, we're gonna be ready for it all." Turning to face the older fox in the back seat, James looked his closest friend in the eyes, as he gave a solemn nod of his head. “Victor? When the time comes, can I trust you to do your part?"

“Of course, sir. I may be old, but I'm far from incapable. I'll be ready."

“What's Victor gonna be doing?" Ricky asked, confused.

“You'll see. Just wait until we meet up with the others, and I'll explain." James replied, turning his attention back to the road in front of them as they pulled into a crowded area which had been set aside for spectator parking.

“Like I said, they changed the rules. So we're gonna change a few ourselves."

Marco began to grumble in annoyance as he slowly made his way between the numerous rows of cars and trucks. There must have been well over a hundred vehicles lined up throughout the lot. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a familiar older weasel waving his arms from the far side of the lot. Apparently, the Fenders had managed to find an empty spot. As they approached, the group saw that Ricky's truck had been parked next to the weasels' beat-up old Dodge. It appeared that a few spaces closer to the entrance had been reserved for them; the orange cones denoting that the spots were taken were a dead giveaway.

“Convenient..." James muttered, drawing nods from the rest of them as Marco maneuvered the large vehicle into the parking spot.

“Alright... Let's get out there. Remember, when we get inside, we move as a group; nobody separates unless they get permission from one of us."

With those words said, the four of them quickly exited the vehicle, before meeting up with the others near the rear of Ricky's truck.

“Hey, kid," Jimmy Fender greeted James as he and Ted approached. Jake, Lenny, Henry, and Rory gave them all respectful nods as they joined the group as well.

“So, how are we doing this, old man?" Jake called out as he stepped up to take his place next to Marco.

“Yeah," Ricky agreed, “I've been waiting to hear exactly how this crazy approach of yours is all gonna fit together. Even if the plan goes flawless, How are we gonna get Connor back before all hell breaks loose?"

James let out a slight chuckle as he shook his head, before turning to face them all. “To answer your question, Rick, we're not gonna have to do anything to get Connor back. As a matter of fact, when the match is over, they're gonna give him back to us themselves."

“...And WHY would they do that?!" Ricky hissed through clenched teeth. “What if they decide to just kill him anyway after we win?!"

“THAT'S why Robert and Marco's team are going to be there to provide backup on the other side of the ring," James continued, “But that's not why they're gonna give us Connor. Hey, Ted?"

The younger weasel stepped forward and nodded his head in recognition. “Good news. You're not gonna be taking part in this fight tonight, after all. You and your dad are gonna head in with us, grab us all a few of bottles of good vodka from the bar, and meet us ringside so you can both watch the show."

“WHAT?! You mean, I went through all that brutal-ass training under Lenny for nothing?!" Ted exclaimed with a scowl. “I was actually looking forward to unleashing hell on this prick!"

“I understand, and I'm sorry for the sudden change of plans. Don't worry, though; once the heat dies down after what happens here tonight, I promise I'll be working with Ricky myself to find you a few opponents whose skills are a bit closer to your new level. And if Lenny is still willing, you could always keep up your training with him as well. Maybe one day you'd even be able to take Ricky out for once."

Ted gave a rebellious smirk as he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head in assent. “I guess that's the best I can hope for, then. But if I'm not taking out Markus tonight, who's gonna be the one to do the job?"

Smiling, James turned to face Victor, who'd opted to forgo his usual butler's uniform for a plain black hoodie and a pair of heavy black jeans, which Ozzy, being of a similar size, had graciously agreed to loan him for the night. The center pockets also made it easier to hide his gloved paws.

“Victor here will be fighting in your place. Don't let his age fool you; this old fox has some pretty deadly tricks up his sleeve. And besides, Ricky?"

The young man nodded once.

“...You did say you wanted blood, and after the conversation we all had last night, you now know exactly who Victor is. I can honestly think of no better way to grant that particular request than to allow my closest friend to give us all a live demonstration of his skills." Turning to face Victor, James gave the older fox a friendly smile and a short nod of his head.

“Is that alright with you, 'Two Moons'? Do you think you still have it in you for another kill?"

Victor let out a slight chuckle as he pulled his hood back, revealing the wide, toothy smirk on his gray muzzle and the excited glint in his dark green eyes.

“I was born for moments like this, sir." he spoke with an air of confidence, as he removed his paws from the pockets of the hoodie, and began to pop the joints in his knuckles.

“One thing, though," James added, as he reached out to stop the fox from removing his gloves.

“Wait until you're in the ring to take the gloves off. It's time for you to properly come out of hiding, old friend."

Five minutes Later, Ringside

The warehouse which had been chosen as the venue had been completely cleared out and cleaned up for the event. In one corner, a long, temporary bar had been erected, with six different bartenders on duty moving about frantically as they rushed to satisfy the thirst of what must have been at least two hundred spectators. Cheap, sheet-metal bleachers had been hastily installed on three different sides of the ring, with additional seating, in the form of folding chairs, filling several long rows on the floor below. The fighting area itself was actually an almost professional setup; a full, raised octagon, only the walls had been replaced with solid steel chain-link fencing instead of the rubber-coated barriers which were normally used in official matches. The tops of the fences were covered in twisted spikes, likely to prevent either fighter from escaping.

Tonight, after all, had been billed as a fight to the death, with no holds barred, and no quarter given. The crowd itself was made up of a diverse mixture of humans and furs. Some appeared to be extremely rich, dressed in multi-thousand dollar suits and smoking what were likely expensive cigars. Still, others appeared to be middle-class gamblers, or street gangsters with flashy jewelry, accompanied by members of their numerous sets and crews, flashing thick wads of cash around as they made their way towards a large group of long tables which had been set up on the opposite end of the bar area, where the numerous bookies, representing a few street thugs who worked for Ricky's crew and the Binetti family, who'd jointly agreed to split the take for the night, were busy collecting and keeping track of the massive bets being placed.

Marco, James, and Ricky led their determined-looking group onward as the nine of them stepped into the smoky and chaotic atmosphere of the arena. As they continued to maneuver through the large crowd, James nodded towards Ted and Jimmy Fender, who took that as their cue to head for the bar and purchase the bottles of vodka, as they'd been ordered. Rick moved up to match their speed, turning to give James a questioned look as they continued marching towards the ring.

“Are you sure this is gonna work? I mean, I'm not doubting Victor's skills, but... He hasn't done this in awhile, hasn't he?"

“You might be surprised," James responded with a grin. “Remember a couple of years ago? What happened to the last mayor?"

“You mean HE killed-- y-you-- I mean, I heard the rumors, but are you being SERIOUS right now?!"

“The bastard was corrupt as all hell, funneling state and federal money that was meant to go to local hospitals and to help the poor and homeless into his personal account in the Caymans. Believe me, the world is better off without him. But that should tell you all you need to know about Victor's skills. Let's just say he's FAR from rusty. That's why I always keep him close, and remind him that he's my most valuable friend. Now, follow me. It's time for us to give em' all a little show of force."

As the two weasels returned, the large crew slowly approached the octagon, where they quickly caught sight of seven figures standing inside of the fenced-in arena. James and Marco immediately recognized the four other heads of the Canine Council: a Doberman in a biker vest, who looked as if he were just waiting for a challenge, a tall Golden retriever who was well-dressed in a blue business suit, a Pit Bull who wore multiple diamond rings on his claws, and a grimace across his muzzle, and a large German Shepherd in a solid black suit who stood perfectly calm, with both arms crossed confidently behind his back. Next to them stood Iggy Rhah himself, a look of anxiety creeping through his demeanor; his eyes quickly locking onto his sons as the group continued to make their approach.

Kenneth Markus stood calmly in the center of the ring, smiling almost maniacally, as he held one arm casually over the shoulder of a very familiar, shaking and growling red fox, whose muzzle had been taped shut, and whose arms and legs had also been bound.

James, Rick, Jake, and Marco tried their hardest to maintain their neutral looks as Lenny stepped in front of them and pulled open the entrance to the octagon, before leading them all into the ring as well.

“Well, well, well! Look who it is!" The bare-chested rat let out with a gleeful chuckle. “The rest of the boys from the old unit! I never thought I'd get a chance to meet up with y'all again; how's it been?"

“It'll be better once this is all over with, Rats--" Lenny started to say, before James quickly held up a hand to silence him.

“So, this is what it's come to, yeah?" The older man announced with a slight shake of his head. “You shoot one of my guys, you try to kill one of my oldest friends, and now you kidnap the mate of one of my partners? Not to mention, he just had to be the new Middleweight Champion..." James shook his head sadly as he let out a sigh before looking over each one of the so-called 'bosses' in front of him.

“You HAD to know that there would be retaliation for betraying the Council," The Doberman growled, his comment intended for Marco.

“Your Father, Gods rest him, would be turning in his grave if he knew the kind of company you've lowered yourself to keeping now..." The Retriever added with a shake of his head.

“ My FATHER is exactly where he belongs," Marco growled in response. “Six feet underground, where some of you might find yourselves very soon."

“So, it's t_rue_, then?" The German Shepherd barked, finally shifting his position slightly. “You've decided to abandon your duty to this Council, just so you can build an alliance with these... humans, cats, and half-breeds?!"

“These PEOPLE are more of a Family to me than any of you or your half-rate pups ever were," Marco sneered in reply, stepping up next to James as he struggled to maintain his composure. “And I warned you all, on the day that you forced me to take my father's mantle as Alpha, that there would come a day that I would no longer have need of any of you. As far as I can see, it's this Council that needs ME in order to remain in control of this city, not the other way around. Without the support of the Binetti Family, you know that your Council will implode in due time. Without the profits and services that My people contribute, you're ALL just a bunch of street thugs with little to no real influence."

The Doberman and Pit Bull let out a joint chorus of growls as they attempted to step forward, before being quickly held back by the Shepherd, who shook his head firmly towards them both.

“Let's settle this the way we agreed."

Turning to face James, he gave a slight nod of his head in recognition.

“This fight will be to the death; no holds barred, no quarter offered. As you can see, we've purchased the services of a... professional, of sorts to represent our interests. I've been told he's well-known to most of your people. I've also been told that you've chosen Ted Edwards, the son of Jimmy Fender, to represent you all in this match?"

“Originally? Yes, that WAS the arrangement. However, since you all decided to violate the arranged agreement by taking one of my people as a hostage, I reserve the right to substitute Ted for another one of my fighters, and, before you open your maws and start bitching, you should know that Mr. Markus over there--" James pointed to the rat, who was bare-chested and wearing only a pair of shredded cargo shorts, “--Would've likely had a much quicker death if we HAD chosen to let Ted fight."

The Shepherd's ears twitched slightly as he considered this. After a few seconds, he straightened up once again, and gave a single nod of his head.

“Under the circumstances, we can accept those terms. So, who will be fighting for your side?"

James turned to face Victor, who'd kept his paws hidden in his pockets as the older fox turned his head to look down at him. Giving a slight nod of acknowledgment, the fox slowly stepped forward, until he was only a few feet away from Marcus and Connor at the center of the ring.

The look on the rat's face was priceless. He actually released his arm from around Connor's shoulders as he suddenly erupted into a burst of genuine laughter. The Doberman suddenly moved in to retrieve Connor, who was quickly pulled to their side of the ring, as Markus continued to clutch at his sides while letting out choking bellows of wheezing, mocking laughter.

“THAT old motherfucker?!" he exclaimed, pausing to take in a breath as he took a moment to stare Victor down. “What are you, a hundred years old?! That guy's not even gonna last five minutes against me! He'll probably have a heart attack before he lands a single hit!"

Victor himself let out a dark chuckle in response, shaking his head sadly as he reached a gloved paw towards the zipper on his hoodie. Tugging it down with one smooth movement, he pulled the offending garment away, tossing it aside as he revealed his own gray-furred chest, lithe and yet firmly chiseled, and covered completely in numerous faded scars, which appeared to have come from both claws and blades over many decades. Standing tall, he held up his gloved paws, grinning slightly as he began to carefully remove them, claw by claw, while maintaining eye contact with Markus the entire time.

When the pair of leather gloves was finally removed, he reached a paw back to hand them to James, who took them carefully, before depositing them into one of his pockets. With his final preparations complete, Victor turned to face Markus and the Council once more, holding up his paws in an almost reverent manner as the lights from the arena began to shine brightly over his tattoos and steel-coated claws.

At that exact moment, two things happened simultaneously; first, a collection of surprised gasps came from Iggy Rhah and the heads of the Canine Council; even the Shepherd, who'd appeared so confident a moment before, suddenly had his hackles raised as he took a pair of cautious steps backwards. The second thing that happened was that Kenneth Markus suddenly stopped laughing.

“You'll be going up against Me," Victor stated, matter-of-factly. “My given name is Victor Silver. But the name that my clan gave me is Two-Moons. Since this is a duel to the death, I find it appropriate that you should know my name, Mr. Markus, since this will be the first and last time you will be allowed to hear it. GARBAGE like you..." he extended a metal claw towards Markus, “Doesn't deserve to speak to me. You should be grateful that I was even willing to introduce myself. Now... Any last words before we begin?"

"Yeah..." the rat nodded, as his gaze focused on the older fox's claws.

"This might be interesting, after all..."

---END CHAPTER 13 PART 1----

And here's the beginning of the climax, folks! The next chapter will be written back-to-back with this one, so expect to see it by tomorrow at the latest! We're reaching the high point of the story thus far; I'm trying to get this book up to at least 20-25 chapters, in order to set up for a couple of other stories that I have in mind. Enjoy the build-up; the chaos is coming.

--C