Super Crush (BxB)

Combat in Capri (S2)

In true ME fashion, I ask Vito 700 questions in the first five minutes. But he doesn't answer any of them. This doesn't help the concern that is bubbling up in my gut. The questionable feelings I thought I dumped as I got into the boat have returned like the scene in a bad shark movie when the notorious fin makes its first appearance.

The rest of the ride goes by in silence. I'm too in my head to realize we have made it from the dock of Sorrento to the one awaiting us in Capri. As the boat bumps against the pier, Vito clears his throat.

"Good chat, buddy," I quip as I step off the boat and onto the wooden planks of the deserted pier.

In the dim light, I think I catch Vito smile.

I look up at the hillside of houses and businesses. At this time of night, only a sprinkle of lights dot the quiet streets. It's been years since I have been here and I honestly have no idea how to go about finding my father. Or the dangerous stranger messaging me, pretending to be my dad.

Yup, I have gone full paranoid Noah now.

My wonders of where to even start evaporate as my wrist lights up. An animation of a soccer ball bounces from left to right, and I know he is telling me to go to the football stadium. I vaguely remember how to get there. My dad and his love for sports brought us to the field when we were here the last time to kick the ball around a little. So, my legs start my walk west while my brain sends up flags... no flares... no a full fireworks show warning me that this is a bad idea.

Ten minutes later, I'm standing at the gates of the Stadio San Costanzo. The locked gate in front of me is no match for my mediocre climbing skills, but I can't seem to find the power to scale it. Seeing the pitch, I picture my dad and I running around together, taking turns shooting the ball into the net, and practicing our favorite goal celebrations. I was never any good at soccer, or sports in general, but none of that mattered when I played with Dad.

I ignore the message on my tech band.

-·- far field goal -·-

I know I'm frozen because whatever happens next may destroy everything I've known for the last four years. The videos that Malware gave me were like little deleted scenes of a movie I thought I knew by heart, but seeing my dad again, in person, alive and breathing, might be something completely different.

What if it's not even him? Or worse, what if it is him waiting for me, but he is no longer the father I knew?

I shake my head and scramble up and over the fence. With only a few overhead lights on, the stadium gives off a haunted feeling. The walk to the far end of the field seems like it takes forever. I sense I am being watched by ghosts from the shadows in the stands. I'm on full display and completely vulnerable.

When I get to the goal, I don't see anything. Just the green of the turf and the white of the net. I swat at the crisscrossing ropes in annoyance. I've been duped.

All logical connections and thought processes start to melt away. This whole thing must be one big prank. I made my mom cart us across the ocean and get us a place in a quiet town as I sneak out to meet a stranger talking to me on some shitty version of an Apple watch.

"What have I done?" I whisper defeatedly.

As if these were magic words, the ground beneath me shakes. Dark lines cutting into the green of the artificial grass form a rectangle around me. A void grows on all sides as I realize I am slowly moving downward into the ground.

"What the hell have I done?" I shout as a very different feeling hits me this time.

It's an elevator of some sort. I look up and see the light from the field above get further away. The darkness below me starts to brighten with a crimson glow as my destination nears.

Cool. I am going to hell. Part of me always thought this could happen, but I assumed it would be later. Like once I died at 92 years old, leaving my 17 cats to be tended to by the poor soul who found me.

The confines of the elevator shaft give way to a sprawling bunker. Columns running the distance from me to the far wall divide the place into thirds. The huge cement room has a handful of red emergency lights illuminating different sections of the hideaway. To the left is a wall of screens and computer hardware. Then a kitchenette, table, and lounge area. Furthest from me is a set of three doors. The one in the middle is a floor-to-ceiling garage door. And on my right is what seems to be a gym and training area, maybe?

As my eyes scan back to the center of the room, my blood curdles. I become keenly aware of the figure standing in the darkness between the floodlights.

I swallow hard and say, "Hello? Who are you?"

Instant horror chick feels. You know, the one who dies in the first five minutes of the movie.

Of course, my new friend doesn't say anything. And I do the only thing I know how to do–talk.

"So, I am looking for my dad. David Brasso." As dumbasses do, I slowly move toward the person standing in the shadows.

But this actually works in my favor, for the lighting system must be on some kind of sensor. A fluorescent burst ignites a circle around me. It covers almost the whole space between me and the person in front of me. I can see their boots at the perimeter of the glow and there is enough light shining off the floor to make out their build and stance.

He is tall and well-built. His getup is black from head to toe with some kind of meshy visor. It kind of reminds me of a fencing sabre mask. The only thing that stands out is a small green light on the right side of his neck.

He must be fully charged.

"Look, I am not trying to trouble anyone." I move closer and the next light turns on over the quiet ninja.

He must be motion activated too because he reaches behind his head and pulls a katana from its sheath.

Shit.

Before I know it, I am barely out of the way of his first swing. Thankfully my instincts recognized what was happening before my brain did. As he swipes at me a gain, I fall backward into a tumble.

Popping to my feet, I pivot and take off toward the kitchen area.

"See, Noah. See what you get yourself into. This is clearly not your dad. I hope," I say.

"Shut up, self." I soccer slide under the table as I hear a thud on top of it.

I spring to my feet on the other side, thinking that the thud was my assailant being tripped up by the table. But, no, he was standing on top of it, ready to jump down and deliver his finishing move.

Grabbing the counter behind me, I lean back and kick both feet at the edge of the tabletop. As I hoped, the movement throws my predator off balance and he falls to one knee.

I make a break for it toward the three doors at the back of the bunker. I slam hard into the first one. I jiggle and shake the knob, but it doesn't move.

Locked!

I sprint past the garage door and grab onto the far door's handle. To my relief, it gives way and the light of the room behind it hits my face. I think I hear the sound of angels singing. But I am ripped from safety by a yank on my shoulder. I spin to the side of the doorway as I am pinned to the wall.

I am face to face with Murder Assassin. Okay, the name is redundant, but my brain isn't thinking clearly at the moment.

He raises his sword to show me my end has come. With a grunt, he jams his blade into my chest.

I close my eyes. Goodbye, world.

But then nothing happened. I open one eye and then the other. There isn't any pain. Or blood. My attacker retracts his weapon from my unharmed body and it seems to pop back into place. I am very much alive because the blade is very much fake. Just a prop they would use on a movie set.

"That wasn't too bad. You almost made it, Noah."

I'd recognize the voice anywhere.

His mask comes off to reveal the blue eyes that have been taking up 50% of my constant cognitive stream.

"You did better than I thought you–"

I didn't even let Abe finish his sentence before smashing my lips into his.