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LOGAN AND GRACE, RIDING HER GRANDFATHER'S VINTAGE MOTORBIKE, ROLLED DOWN THE FAMOUS LAS VEGAS STRIP, LIT BY THE MAMMOTH NEON SIGNS ABOVE THEM

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LOGAN AND GRACE, RIDING HER GRANDFATHER'S VINTAGE MOTORBIKE, ROLLED DOWN THE FAMOUS LAS VEGAS STRIP, LIT BY THE MAMMOTH NEON SIGNS ABOVE THEM. THEY STOPPED AT A RED LIGHT AND GRACE STARED UP AT THE LONELY MOON RISING OVER THE DESERT.

"You look like a man who could use a night off from the kid." A woman called out to Logan as he and Grace waited at the red light.

Logan turned to look at the woman in a tight silver dress, waiting at the light in her Cadillac convertible. "You're way out of my league, darlin'." As Logan spoke, Grace let out a chuckle.

"You never know." She shook her head. "You looking for a good time with a bad woman?"

Logan smiled and shook his head. "Not tonight."

"You don't know what you're missing." The woman pursed her lips.

Logan revved the engine as the light changed. "I know exactly what I'm missing." The woman waited at the green light, watching as Logan and Grace sped off into the night. Grace gave the woman a quick wave.

In a seedy part of town, far from the casinos' bright lights, Logan and Graced walked through the front door of a rundown boxing gym.

"All I'm saying is she seemed very interested in you." Grace laughed as Logan's cheeks turned red.

Even late at night, the gym was packed with aspiring boxers. Las Vegas had become the Mecca of world boxing, and many of the fighters there exhibited impressive skills as they battered the heavy bag, tapped at the speed bag and jump rope.

Logan and Grace walked towards the ring in the center of the gym. Two young boxers inside the ring, wore headgear and sparring gloves, danced around throwing quick jabs that didn't land.

John Wraith stood outside the ring, watching the action with evident distaste. He wore a cowboy hat, sunglasses and a handlebar moustache. He had the drawl of a rodeo cowboy.

"This is a contact sport, ladies." Wraith called out to the women in the ring. "If you don't like hitting people, try golf."

Logan came up behind Wraith, unknown to him. "You talk tough for a guy who always let me do the dirty work."

A slow smile creased Wraith's face. He turned at the sound of Logan's voice. "Look at this. You never get old, do you?" The two men embraced. Grace smiled at the genuine affection she saw. "Nobody followed you?"

"You tryin' to insult me?" Logan asked, pretending to be hurt. He slowly turned to Grace. "She's a good kid. Has nowhere to go."

"Can't be too careful, brother." He looked over at Grace and nodded his head in assurance. "I've been retired for five years and I still check under the car every time I drive."

"You served in the army with Logan?" Grace asked.

"Something like that." Wraith chuckled.

"I'm looking for Victor Creed." Wraith's face dropped at Logan's mention of the name. Grace raised an eyebrow.

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