Takedown (24 page)

G
avin walked up to a reception desk two hundred feet back from the ring. Beyond the desk was the challenger line, considerably
smaller in numbers than the night before, when the probability of an extended hospital stay or possibly a funeral became a
stark reality.

“Can I help you?” said a man with black spiked hair and pierced eyebrows wearing a WWX T-shirt with a button showing only
a hand with an extended middle finger.

“I’m here to fight Krogan,” Gavin said.

“You?”

“Yeah, me.”

“Like that?”

“Is there a dress code?” Gavin said sarcastically.

“Uh, no, but—”

“You have a problem with the way other people dress?”

“Huh?”

“Good, then sign me up.”

The man shrugged and handed Gavin a few sheets of paper. Gavin didn’t bother to read any of the fine print that occupied most
of the three sheets. He filled in the usual information about who he was and where he lived in bold print. As he wrote in
his address, his pen almost tore through under the weight of his anger, underlining the number of his house. He wrote Chris’s
name for whom
to contact in case of an emergency, signed everywhere he could find, and then handed back the papers.

The man’s pierced brows rose at the sight of Gavin’s lettering. He then shrugged and said, “What do you want to be called?”

“What?”

“Your stage name? Every challenger has to have a stage name for the announcer to announce. That’s what he does.”

“I don’t care. He can call me whatever he wants.”

“Uh-uh. He doesn’t get paid to do that.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Call me… I don’t know .… Call me The Challenger.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Challenger.”

“Are you sure?”

“Write it down.”

“Okay,” he said, then started to write. “Does challenger have one
L
or two?”

“It doesn’t matter, just write it.… I think two.”

“Can I see some ID?”

Gavin opened his badge wallet, showing his shield and a photo. “Will this do?” he said.

The man’s eyes widened. “You’re a cop.”

“I know.”

“Do you have a gun with you?”

“Why?”

“Because that would be against the rules. Shooting him before the three minutes are up would probably void the prize.”

“I’ll try to be patient.”

The man’s eyes widened further. “Do… do you have a driver’s license?” he said weakly. “I’m supposed to ask for a driver’s
license.”

“No. Do you have any other stupid questions?”

“N-no. You’re in.”

Gavin took only a couple of steps before the man called back to him.

“Say, uh, Gavin,” he said, reading from the signed papers. “What’s this all about?”

Gavin turned and said, “I’ve been asking myself the same question for the last two and a half years, pal. Same
wrong
question. What I’m being told is that it ain’t
what
… it’s
who
… Understand?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Good. Later you can explain it to me,” Gavin said, then left.

The line consisted of a row of seats behind the announcers’ table, about twenty of the seats filled with hopeful challengers.
Yesterday there had been a dozen rows. The challengers, dressed in various battle outfits, all looked at Gavin as he approached.
He put on the ski mask. He felt stupid, but he didn’t want Krogan to recognize him before he got into the ring. The contestants
stared at him, all with that same quizzical expression on their faces the receptionist had had. Gavin ignored them and sat
down, wondering how he would ever get in the ring without cutting in front of someone.

The outer lights of the coliseum darkened as Krogan came down the entrance ramp with a woman at his side. She seemed to be
dressed in black spray paint. Gavin closed his eyes, trying to shut out all the hype that was making him sick—the cheers,
explosions, music—and focus on what had been spoken to him by Lauer’s team and by the strangers in the crowd. Who were those
guys? He knew the pastors would tell him they were angels, but he refused to be caught up in some religious notion brought
on by circumstance. Sure, he wanted to believe there were angels out there to help him, but not at the expense of creating
them himself. Never. There had to be another reason why these guys all knew what they knew and
looked like they did and disappeared that way… God, he hoped they were angels.

Krogan climbed into the ring and was announced again, but this time in the terms and conditions of the Armageddon contest.
Three minutes for a million didn’t sound easy anymore. Didn’t sound possible anymore. When the announcer finished his sickeningly
enthusiastic promo, he introduced the first challenger—Mammoth. Fifty zillion watts’ worth of spotlights bore down on the
biggest WWX wrestler Gavin had ever seen. The contender was easily twice Krogan’s size. Abnormally sized everything, without
looking fat. Definitely the circus strong man’s much bigger brother.

Mammoth strutted down the ramp and up to the ring in an outfit that could have passed for Fred Flintstone’s clothes. A cable
with a hook at the bottom was lowered from the ceiling like a crane looking for an I-beam. Mammoth slipped one foot into the
hook, and the cable lifted him high in the air over the ring. Finally, after displaying that Krogan would be fighting the
human equivalent of a Kodiak bear, Mammoth was lowered into the ring. The cable was retracted back into the ceiling and a
giant cage lowered around the ring. Gavin wondered if this was more drama from the WWX or the result of a new clause in their
insurance policy to keep the audience from being injured from flying challengers.

Krogan sized up his towering opponent. Did they think mass mattered to him… or numbers? This was exactly what he wanted after
losing Buchanan’s granddaughter. His only consolation was that she would feel the pain of grief for the grandfather who had
cared for her. The thought made him smile. He looked in Tanya’s direction. She was focused on him just as she was supposed
to be. He looked at the challengers and started to feel as if he were wasting his time with helpless children.

The announcer started the countdown of Armageddon’s second day of contests.
Armageddon,
Krogan thought with a wry grin. If they only knew. He thought of the terrorist in the news. How much more satisfying would
it be to destroy trains and ferries and instruct Christians to kill in the name of their cursed creator? How much more fun
would it be to lead misguided sheep down—

There it was again.
He looked out into the crowd.
There!
For an instant he saw a few vertical bars of light, but then they were gone… or at least hidden. Were his human eyes failing
him? He quickly discarded the notion. No human sense could confuse what he had perceived. But why were they here? What did
they want of him?

“Three, two, one,” the announcer said.

Mammoth charged. Krogan had no intention of making this challenge interesting. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the audience,
but he would for a moment. Mammoth raised his right arm high, then brought it down in a powerful tomahawk chop. But to Krogan,
it was child’s play. Like lightning, he swung his right arm high and over Mammoth’s oncoming hammer-fist, crushing the giant’s
exposed jaw with an elbow and continuing the movement through until their arms locked below their biceps. Mammoth’s feet left
the ground as Krogan continued to drive the giant’s arm forward, bending it back and dislocating it at the shoulder. Mammoth
was on his back, his jaw bleeding and broken… unconscious. The fight was over. The crowd was stunned into silence.

Krogan looked back in the direction of the audience. He could feel his inner agitation at the unseen presence. He looked toward
the amateur challenger line. Several of the would-be contenders were leaving.

Suddenly two bars of light appeared as if turned on by a switch. Boldly. Defiantly. He knew he had sensed something. But what
was this? Between them was a contestant. Was that what this was about?
Protection for a contestant? Krogan snorted. What, were they here to battle? Didn’t they know who he was? A mere two angels
of guardian magnitude were no match for him. He had walked through larger opposition without a scratch. Regardless, he hoped
they would engage him so he could send them limping back to their master. Krogan laughed.
Bring it on,
he thought. Why not? The notion of boredom and wasted time was a universe away. Here was a fight the unseen would be more
interested in.

The cage was lifting.

While the cage disappeared into the ceiling, several stagehands dragged Mammoth off like a dead whale. Gavin was in shock
along with the rest of the coliseum. There could be no doubt in the eyes and minds of the next challengers that they were
all dead men. The announcer then explained to the audience that the next challenger would come from the amateur line.

“No thanks,” said the next contestant loudly, standing up and telling Gavin, “Good luck, man” on his way out. Several others
in succession also got up, shaking their heads as they made their way up the aisle to the scornful boos of the crowd.

Gavin felt the sweat coursing down his sides as he looked at Krogan. The demon’s unblinking eyes were staring only at him.
Why? Could he see through the mask? Maybe. Gavin knew little about what limitations or powers Krogan had, but what he did
know was that the guy in the ring, demon or not, was responsible for a lot of pain and sorrow. And somehow the monster was
going to pay for it all… tonight.

Fear and anger bore through Gavin’s chest as he imagined his grandfather talking to him, and his friend and neighbor John
Garrity, both of whom had been carelessly killed for Krogan’s enjoyment. Buck’s family. And now Amy in the hospital nursing
her
pregnancy after having their home blown apart and her decorator killed. Enough was enough.

As the music cranked up, the big screen displayed Mammoth’s defeat from every angle. The remaining contestants grimaced at
the dislocation of the shoulder and the slam to the ground. Was he out his mind for trying this? Gavin asked himself. Other
contestants seemed to share that thought as more stood up and left. But he wasn’t about to leave. Out of his mind was exactly
where he needed to be right now.

“Him,” Krogan yelled, pointing at Gavin. “He’s next.”

There was a pause as the announcer tried to figure out what was happening and whom Krogan was pointing at. The few remaining
contestants looked at him in disbelief. No one complained.

Gavin started to get up. The ski mask felt hot and scratchy around his face and neck. A hand from the seat next to him pushed
him back down. Another contestant? Through the eyeholes of the mask, Gavin could see a man with fair skin, long red hair,
and crystal blue eyes. He said, “Do not try to fight him with your natural strength, Gavin. He cannot be beaten if your focus
is on the flesh.”

“Do not raise a hand against him,” said another voice on his other side.

Another man… no… the same man. Gavin quickly looked back, expecting to see that the first man had vanished, but he was still
there. Twins?

“He will try to draw you in, but your focus must be on your mission, not on damaging his host. You will be given understanding
and the words to say. Do not be anxious.”

“Yes, you must leave the battle to us. He is powerful, but we are many… and most of his followers have already fled, sick
from our presence,” the second one said with a thin smile, then laid his hand on Gavin’s thigh.

Gavin felt strange. Good but strange. His mind started to clear
from the many thoughts that had been pressing in on it. New thoughts were emerging. The conversations he’d had with Buck and
with the Salt guys were coming to him. He remembered the verse Benjamin and Buck had both quoted about not wrestling with
flesh and blood but against spirits. Why hadn’t it dawned on him that he was going into a wrestling ring to actually wrestle
with a spirit? How weird.

The driving music calmed and the announcer finally declared, “The next challenger to take on the champion is… The Challenger!”

Spotlights blasted Gavin from all sides. The reassuring hands were gone, yet he felt strong, at peace. He stood up, legs steady,
chin high, and walked up to the ring. Krogan stood in one corner, watching.

“Krogan… Krogan… Krogan…” chanted the crowd.

A smiling WWX girl stepped on the bottom rope and lifted the top for Gavin to enter. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she
said nonchalantly while smiling for the camera.

Gavin figured he must look pretty pathetic for her to say that. But then again, maybe it was her job to say that to every
amateur climbing in, just to get them a little more nervous about their fate. He adjusted the ski mask, which kept drooping
over his eyes. How did people ever rob banks with these things?

“What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this? Short on cash?” Krogan said with a crooked smile while strutting toward
the center, his deep, whispery voice sounding animal-like.

“I’m here for you, pal, not the money.”

“Oh, really?” Krogan said, surprised. “I would think a guy like you would be here to raise money for your church.”

He was probing… and somehow Gavin knew it. The demon had apparently seen the angels and was wondering why they were
here. “Guess again, slimeball. What, did my friends make you nervous?”

Krogan’s smile evaporated. “What friends?”

“You and I both know who I’m talking about, hotshot. And there’s plenty more where they came from,” Gavin said, his confidence
building with every word. He felt a tingling he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t believe it, but he actually felt like
laughing.
Imagine that,
he thought.
Laughing… me!

Krogan’s eyes started darting around the audience. Gavin didn’t look, because he knew he would see nothing, but Krogan was
seeing things. That was obvious. He wished he could see what Krogan was seeing. His expression had changed from smug to alert,
turning around, looking to either side. Whatever was out there, they certainly had his attention.