Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2012 22:47:58 GMT -5
04/03/2012:
As the elevator door opens upon the foyer of his private suite at the top of Rated X Enterprises headquarters, Hutton Brown curses the chime and noisy opening of the lift's doors. It was bad enough that he was only returning home and about to crawl into bed at two o'clock in the morning, Brown hoped beyond hope that the noise would not disturb the slumber of his wife. Jackie had been expecting him for dinner tonight and would have no doubt been disappointed to find that his flight had been delayed until the following morning. Jackie had most likely gone to bed with the idea her husband would be home around the middle of the afternoon; Brown instead catching another flight and two connections after that to make it home in the wee hours of the morning.
His intentions were true, hoping to make up slightly for such disappointment by at least being home when she awoke; yet Hutton had ulterior motives that were unfortunately quite pressing. For not only did he sincerely wish to see his wife as quickly as possible again, but Brown also held the knowledge of his next meeting with Lisa Ramierez at Fort McNair the following day; or, in fact, today. It was something that he could, much to his chagrin, not miss and hardly because he enjoyed her company.
And thus he cursed quietly to himself as he stepped into the foyer and the elevator doors closed noisily behind him, something he'd have to get some work done on. Parking his suitcase just outside the elevator door and slipping his sneakers from his feet, Brown listens carefully for any indication that he'd awaken his new bride but smiles with satisfaction as nothing catches his ear. Hutton moves silently through the foyer of the suite until he reaches the bedroom, discarding his shirt and jeans outside the door before finally entering and stepping quietly to the bed. Jackie lies on her left side, facing away from the door way, and Hutton pulls the covers up just enough to slide underneath; snuggling up next to her with a small grin upon his face. How lucky was he? To have such a beautiful and supportive wife who didn't mind all that much when his travel plans cost them a romantic evening together.
Jackie Brown: You looked rusty out there.
Hutton sighs just as suddenly as she speaks. Figures, doesn't it?
Hutton Brown: Good to see you too Jackie.
Jackie rolls over to face him and Hutton is met with her sweet playful grin, the two coming together for a passionate kiss that seems more like a short make-out session. As they finally part, both are smiling.
Jackie Brown: I missed you tonight.
Hutton Brown: I can tell, but I'm pretty beat after all it took to get home.
Hutton isn't surprised to see Jackie raise an unconvinced eyebrow at his statement. Should have known, for she was his wife.
Hutton Brown: Alright, I'm pretty wired after sleeping on the plane.
Jackie Brown: That's what I thought.
Their lips meet again in a flash, a passionate mess as they revel in their love. Things would escalate quickly from this point forward Hutton knew and his meeting with Lisa Ramierez be damned. There would just be a serious need for a few cups of coffee in the morning.
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04/03/2012:
When Hutton had designed his private suite, he'd never had a single thought of being married. As such the small "bachelor-style" apartment, if you if will, was designed with as few rooms as possible. The foyer led to all other rooms in the apartment, with doors to the bedroom with a master bathroom, eat-in kitchen, living room, and the powder room. While Jackie had originally protested vehemently at the idea of living with him "at work", she had caved just two weeks after their wedding and now found the space quite cozy. And while she secretly hoped she could convince him of some renovations to the suite in the near future, she had to admit it was nice to be able to sleep in and already be at work. Because after a night like the one they had just shared, it was nice to only have cross a short distance to the coffee machine when they awoke at eight thirty when Hutton's alarm went off. Now the pair sat at the table in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in each of their respective hands, just enjoying the afterglow of it all.
Hutton Brown: So did I really look rusty?
Jackie chuckles at his comment and Hutton smiles. They had hardly said good morning to each other and he immediately brings up her mocking comment from the beginning of the night. But the look in his eyes is serious and she turns serious as well, knowing that he valued her criticism more than anyone's.
Jackie Brown: Your strikes were lacking their usual quickness. When's the last time you hit the bag?
Hutton Brown: Well I've be-
Jackie Brown: The last time you really hit the bag Hutton.
Hutton Brown: I haven't hit it hard since before I got injured. I've been taking it easy.
Hutton looks down at his coffee in disappointment with himself and Jackie understood why. If his strikes were holding his game back, he was in a bad position. His striking abilities were his strongest by far and to allow them to slip noticeably enough wasn't something he could ever be proud of. Jackie reaches out at grasps his left hand with hers, squeezing reassuringly as his eyes meet hers.
Jackie Brown: As much as I appreciate your self-concern, you need to get back to work. I'm probably the last one I would have expected to hear say this but, if you're as serious about this as you seem, you need to step back into your old routine.
She really hadn't given him permission to do it, nor did he need it, but hearing her words brings the smile back to his face. Hutton squeezes her hand back in return and nods his head, his warm gaze putting her at ease.
Hutton Brown: Thanks Jackie.
Jackie Brown: Hey, don't think for a second that I'm anymore happy with all this. I still don't like the idea of you being back there so soon.
Jackie turns slightly red in the face as Hutton begins laughing aloud, Jackie squeezing tightly on his hand in return.
Jackie Brown: What's so funny?
Hutton Brown: You sound just like my shrink.
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04/03/2012:
Lisa Ramierez: I'm still don't like the idea of you being back in the WFWF so soon.
The Acela Express had brought Brown to the heart of the nation's capitol is less than three hours time and from there it was a measly twenty minute walk to Fort McNair's Army Health Clinic for his one o'clock meeting with Sergeant Lisa Ramierez. Their greetings had been professional on each end and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though Hutton found he could not stop himself from erupting into slight laughter at Ramierez' opening statement. She, much like a certain someone, didn't looked pleased by his amusement.
Lisa Ramierez: What's so funny?
Hutton Brown: That is exactly, and I mean word for word, what my wife said this morning.
Lisa Ramierez: Somehow, I'm not surprised.
Lisa continues to look at him with quite a stern gaze, though what she was attempting to accomplish with it Hutton wasn't completely certain. She couldn't seriously believe that a few stern words and an unintimidating stare would just get him to up and quit the WFWF, did she?
Hutton Brown: So shall I assume you watched my match?
Lisa Ramierez: Yes, I did. But simply for observation purposes, mind you.
Hutton Brown: So do you think I looked rusty?
A confused look crosses her face suddenly.
Lisa Ramierez: Excuse me?
Hutton Brown: Never mind.
Ramierez looks like she wants to speak, whether it be to ask a question or attempt to get him to explain his previous question. Ultimately however, she refrains from doing so. So would that count as one or two points for the patient?
Hutton Brown: So what did you want me to talk about today Lisa? I've been laying out quite an adventure for you thus far.
She remained silent for several long moments, knowing full well that he was toying with her. But she had no intention of bending to his will and would prove that it was hers he would bend before. But even as she made him wait, he showed no sign of impatience and simply waited for her to set the pace. Whether he was truly handing her control of their meeting or simply the illusion of it was uncertain, but she was determined to be holding the reigns over both this and their future sessions.
Lisa Ramierez: I would like to hear about your initial meeting with General Septum and Xavier Pierce.
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02/06/2012:
Hutton Brown: You want me to do what?
This was not Hutton Brown's first visit to one of the nation's most secure buildings, The Pentagon, but this was his first time being there alone. Shortly after turning twenty, he'd join his father on three separate trips to The Pentagon for various legal conferences with various ranking members of the United States Department of Defense. And while he had not been privy to the information present during this meetings, he understood it's importance to both his father and the military men. As such, he understood the honor it was to have access to such a facility, let alone be here on official business of the United States Government.
Hutton Brown: I'm sorry, but could you run that by me again? I just want to make sure I understand everything.
The tall, heavily built man in a military uniform seated across from him, who Brown knew only as General Septum, looked to Xavier Pierce for confirmation before doing so. Seated in a small wood paneled conference room, with a long table and black leather office chairs on either side, it wasn't hard for Hutton to observe such a notion. In the process, his eyes inadvertently locked with those of Xavier Pierce; Pierce staring into Brown's eyes coldly for several long moments, as if searching for his intentions. The fact that Septum had looked to Pierce meant something Hutton realized; the General himself not particularly trusting Brown and that the only reason he was here before him was because of whatever praise Xavier had put forth about him. Compliment or not, Hutton forced himself to nod confidently at Pierce who continued to stare at him for several long moments before turning to Septum and nodding slightly. Apparently satisfied, Septum begins to speak almost instantly.
General Septum: Alright, from the top. As of seventeen hundred eastern standard time, an asset of the United States Department of Defense, who shall remain anonymous to you for security purposes, successfully made contact with a high value target associated directly with illegal arms trafficking. More specifically, a target with known ties to several terrorist organizations including Al-Qaeda and all the suspicions that come with such ties.
Reaching into the file on the table before him, Septum pulls forth a standard sheet of eight and a half by eleven paper and slides it across the table to Brown as he had during the first rundown. Upon it are two grainy photographs of a man of middle-eastern descent, both seemingly lifted from a security camera of some kind.
General Septum: This man's name is Khalil Said and we have finally, after several years of unsuccessful attempts, finally made contact with him to enact a deal.
Septum pauses for a moment and for effect, Hutton taking the bait and immediately regretting it before the words had even left his mouth.
Hutton Brown: And you need an Arms Dealer.
Xavier Pierce: Or someone who can convince Said that he is one.
Brown looks over to Pierce once more, Xavier speaking for the first time throughout the half hour since their conference had begun. Pierce returns his gaze but says nothing further, leaving the floor open for Septum to continue. Even as the General begins again, Hutton remains lock on Xavier Pierce; Brown now the one searching for his true intentions.
General Septum: And that is where you would come in, Mr. Brown.
Hutton Brown: How?
General Septum: I'm just repeating my initial warning that all the information you are hearing right now is highly classified. It is not to leave this room, under the crime of treason.
His words were both meant as a threat and a warning, of which Hutton knew full well. It was a daunting thing to hear however and it caused Brown to pause for several seconds before responding.
Hutton Brown: I understand.
General Septum: Alright then. Mr. Brown...
Hutton Brown: Please... Please call me Hutton.
General Septum: If you insist, Hutton. Under the Bush administration, a series of false identities were secretly created by the DoD for situations such as these. Transactions falsified, money shifted through accounts to validate said false transactions, contacts created for further infiltration into the arms trade. No expense was spared in making certain that these identities would appear to be one hundred percent legitimate Arms Traffickers. And they would all be one hundred percent anonymous.
Hutton Brown: And you want me to assume one of those identities?
Xavier Pierce: In background only.
Both Brown and Septum turn to Pierce as he suddenly speaks out once again.
Xavier Pierce: May I General?
General Septum: Proceed.
Xavier Pierce: Hutton, you will undertake the identity of an "Arms Dealer" in background only. You will still be Hutton Brown and your life will reflect your life. So if you are to be the one to meet with Said, he will know your life just as well as you do.
Hutton Brown: And what is it exactly that you want me to do?
General Septum: Make the deal. Convince Said that you are who you say you are and make the deal.
Hutton Brown: That's it?
General Septum: I can assure you Hutton, that will be the hardest part of this entire operation. The rest, insertion, extraction, protection detail; we will handle.
And now comes the long obligatory pause, as Hutton simply leans back in his tall leather office chair; absorbing all the information that had been presented to him up to this point. He could agree with Septum, that making the deal with a Said would be the hardest part. The man was a professional arms trafficker and he, was not. Managing to sell such a story would certainly be so small task. But the burning question still hadn't been asked yet.
Hutton Brown: Why me?
Hutton looked at Septum as he asked the million dollar question but the General simply turned Brown's attention to Xavier Pierce. Turning to face Pierce, he found Xavier already staring at him.
Xavier Pierce: How long have we known each other Hutton?
Hutton Brown: Nearly ten years, off and on.
Xavier Pierce: And I've actually known you quite a few years longer, before we were ever introduced. Suffice it to say Hutton, I know you very well. I've kept track of you since your father passed and I know what you are capable of. You're a very compelling individual and can manipulate people with such ease and grace.
Hutton Brown: Wait.
Xavier Pierce: You...
Hutton Brown: No, no, wait.
Xavier certainly doesn't seem pleased by being forced to stop but, given the circumstances, allows Hutton to stop him and goes silent. Taking a deep breath, Hutton focuses his thoughts for a moment before looking Xavier Pierce dead in the face and laying them down as they appear.
Hutton Brown: Do you seriously expect me to believe that I'm being chosen for a top secret government mission because I'm compelling and manipulative? Because I don't. I'm not that naive. So then I have to think that it's because you talked me up to the General here enough to where he decided to give me a shot, but that's not true either. Your kind words got me consideration for this assignment, not the interview.
And it certainly can't be my ever charming personality, full of greed and self-worth. Because I can think of a dozen or so other compelling, greedy, manipulative bastards that fight this profile better in certain aspects. So I have to go with option D, the fact that my life is all but an open book to anyone with cable television. That like it or not, I'm technically a celebrity. And why would a celebrity risk being spotted in whatever third world nation you'd be sending me if I didn't have truly important reason for being there.
So in essence, I'm your perfect fake Arms Dealer.
Both Pierce and Septum remain locked on him for several long seconds as he allows his words to sink in with the pain of men. Finally, Septum turns to Xavier with merely a crooked eyebrow, raising the smallest of chuckles from the current WFWF Owner.
Xavier Pierce: I told you he's your man.
General Septum: So it would appear
Hutton Brown: One small problem though Xavier.
Xavier Pierce: Oh?
Hutton Brown: I'm not an Arms Dealer, nor do I have any idea about being an Arms Dealer.
Xavier Pierce: Like the General said Hutton, you making the deal is the hardest part. Making you a believable Arms Dealer is a simple enough task. Or perhaps you're forgetting that I used to be an arms merchant myself?
Hutton Brown: And now you're on television. Traded up or down?
Hutton and Xavier exchange mild laughter, the atmosphere in the room settling down slightly while Septum tidies up the file he'd been reading from throughout the conference. The General clears his throat, commanding the attention of the room in an instant and the mood returns to the business at hand without a second thought.
General Septum: I hate to bring you into this and demand an answer from you without any time for consideration, but this is a highly time sensitive mission. I'm afraid I need an answer from you, right now. I need to know if you're willing to go through with this the whole way, we can't afford a single setback.
The reality of the situation doesn't phase Hutton in the slightest. The magnitude of it however, does. He'd had to make decisions in the blind before, hoping beyond hope and praying to the heavens that his decision had been the correct one.
General Septum: I won't mince words Hutton, there will certainly be a fair chance for danger and the risks here are certainly great. But you have the chance to sa-
Hutton Brown: I'm in.
Over the edge, over again.
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04/03/2012:
Lisa Ramierez: I think we'll end with that.
Hutton Brown: Already?
Lisa Ramierez: You'd be surprised how quickly time passes as we reflect on the past. We're actually twenty minutes over our scheduled finish, but I didn't want to stop you mid scene.
Brown doesn't reply however, instead slowly rising from his seat as he always did. He made it a point to leave on his speaking terms, not hers. Give her no further information than she needed to hear. He extended his hand to shake hers in goodbye, but instead, she spoke.
Lisa Ramierez: Can I ask you one last question Hutton?
Hutton Brown: Sure.
Lisa Ramierez: Why did you go back to the WFWF so quickly?
A question he had not expected from her, yet a question he had asked himself on several different occasions since the very moment he'd jumped the barricade at It's Super Effective. He paused for several long moment, studying her. He couldn't understand her reasoning for asking the question, yet at the same time saw no reason as to what harm it could cause by answering it. Puzzled as he was, he chose to answer.
Hutton Brown: The WFWF Championship.
Lisa Ramierez: And how far are you willing to go to get it?
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04/15/2012:
And so, he'd gone back to the bag with the same ferocious vigor he had before his injury; Hutton Brown not just using the traditional punching bag but making use of several trainers for nearly two weeks to get himself back into his peak physical condition. If there had been a single flaw in his ability against Trace Demon, there wouldn't be as he went against Drakz. He couldn't afford there to be one, he wouldn't allow there to be one. He'd done all he could in preparation for Drakz, and would have one final workout tomorrow in last minute crunch time. Hence why he was flying out tonight, giving himself a full day before the show to ensure himself he was ready.
His left arm had felt no pain since returning to his intense workout routine, yet as he stuff a few shirts into his suitcase, he couldn't help but stare at it; clenching and unclenching his fist several times. He is pleased to feel no pain no and becomes so focused upon it that he doesn't notice Jackie stepping up behind him. With a gentle shove of her shoulder, she pushes him aside and pulls the t-shirts back out of his suitcase; the shirts now a crumbled mess.
Jackie Brown: My god, can you really not pack a suitcase?
Hutton Brown: You've seen my drawers, haven't you?
She nods her head and chuckles, both out of disgust and humor as she begins folding his shirts and placing them into the bag one at a time. But even chuckling, her face looks sullen. She stops folding midway through the third shirt, at looks up at him; face full of concern.
Jackie Brown: Promise me you'll be careful out there.
Hutton finds himself taken aback by her words, but pulls her in close regardless, squeezing her tightly.
Hutton Brown: Hey, I'll be fine. I promise.
Jackie Brown: Just don't let that title get the best of you. You have to draw the line of "how far you're willing to go" for it.
He waited for her to say something, anything. Admit that she knew more than she was letting on, but nothing came. Instead, she pushed herself closer to him and returned her warmth with his. She'd tell him when she was ready. Deep down however, that didn't satisfy him.
Hutton Brown: Yeah...
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"How far am I willing to go?". What kind of a silly question is that? This is a man's legacy we are talking about here; my legacy, to be exact. So of course I intend to go as far as I possibly can, as far as my body is able to carry me. And perhaps further, if I must. This isn't just simply about another victory or another championship reign; this is my legacy. About knowing that I will be remembered, that my name will not be forgotten about tomorrow or the next day. Never.
People question why I need this. They seem to believe that I should have enough in my life to be satisfied. I own a largely successful media conglomerate, hold stakes in dozens of the countries largest corporations, and have my eyes set on major expansionary moves for the immediate future that are more than certain to make me wealthier. Not to mention the numerous accolades and achievements I have earned in the wrestling industry. By all definition, I am on top of the world. And yet, I still need this. I refuse to allow the time I have invested in this industry to be forgotten, the five years in which in have performed for these crowds to be for naught.
Such is the reason I am willing to push myself this far, the reason I can forgo the fact that my arm is slowly deteriorating. That I ignore the advice and warnings of my doctor, my shrink, and even, while she tries to do so discreetly, my wife. It is because I know that by winning the WFWF Championship, my legacy will finally be complete. And try as they might, the wrestling industry will never be able to rid itself of my name. The name Hutton Brown will remain in the hearts and minds of wrestling fans for all of the future of professional wrestling and the mere mention of my name will spark emotion.
What about your legacy Drakz? What will you be remembered for when you can no longer compete? A world championship reign, a few lesser championship reigns, and a Hall of Fame Induction seem impressive but, in reality, are they truly as valuable as you think? What makes you any different from a man like Phillip Schnieder when the two of your can no longer compete? You're both former WFWF World Champions at that point, with a Hall of Fame Induction a piece, and you're lesser title reigns. What will make people remember you when compared to him, or vice versa?
And what happens when your time finally comes, and you leave this earth? Who will remember you then? Because you are like the rest of the world Drakz, you work day in and day out simply to survive. You're at peace with yourself because you know your family will remember you, but what happens if your bloodline fades from existence? I'll tell you. You become a distant memory and then, as time passes, you too will fade from existence. But not me.
That, is why I can defeat you Drakz. You fight solely for tomorrow, taking each day as it comes and dealing with your problems as they present themselves. For you, defeat at my hands is simply something you are embarrassed over, something you will seek to correct in the future. But for me, defeat at your hands is simply not an option. Because I don't fight for tomorrow, I fight for the future; my future. This doesn't simply apply to you however Drakz. This applies to anyone who stands before me in my pursuit of the WFWF Championship, in my pursuit of my legacy. I can not allow anyone to stop me from achieving this, be it you Drakz, or Michael Kyzer, even Phillip Schnieder. Trace Demon was the first to realize that I will not be stopped, and now you shall be the second.
I'm sorry Drakz, I truly am. But I have no choice. While you slowly but surely fade away into obscurity, I must step by. For I, I seek the path to Immortality.
[/i][/color][/center]As the elevator door opens upon the foyer of his private suite at the top of Rated X Enterprises headquarters, Hutton Brown curses the chime and noisy opening of the lift's doors. It was bad enough that he was only returning home and about to crawl into bed at two o'clock in the morning, Brown hoped beyond hope that the noise would not disturb the slumber of his wife. Jackie had been expecting him for dinner tonight and would have no doubt been disappointed to find that his flight had been delayed until the following morning. Jackie had most likely gone to bed with the idea her husband would be home around the middle of the afternoon; Brown instead catching another flight and two connections after that to make it home in the wee hours of the morning.
His intentions were true, hoping to make up slightly for such disappointment by at least being home when she awoke; yet Hutton had ulterior motives that were unfortunately quite pressing. For not only did he sincerely wish to see his wife as quickly as possible again, but Brown also held the knowledge of his next meeting with Lisa Ramierez at Fort McNair the following day; or, in fact, today. It was something that he could, much to his chagrin, not miss and hardly because he enjoyed her company.
And thus he cursed quietly to himself as he stepped into the foyer and the elevator doors closed noisily behind him, something he'd have to get some work done on. Parking his suitcase just outside the elevator door and slipping his sneakers from his feet, Brown listens carefully for any indication that he'd awaken his new bride but smiles with satisfaction as nothing catches his ear. Hutton moves silently through the foyer of the suite until he reaches the bedroom, discarding his shirt and jeans outside the door before finally entering and stepping quietly to the bed. Jackie lies on her left side, facing away from the door way, and Hutton pulls the covers up just enough to slide underneath; snuggling up next to her with a small grin upon his face. How lucky was he? To have such a beautiful and supportive wife who didn't mind all that much when his travel plans cost them a romantic evening together.
Jackie Brown: You looked rusty out there.
Hutton sighs just as suddenly as she speaks. Figures, doesn't it?
Hutton Brown: Good to see you too Jackie.
Jackie rolls over to face him and Hutton is met with her sweet playful grin, the two coming together for a passionate kiss that seems more like a short make-out session. As they finally part, both are smiling.
Jackie Brown: I missed you tonight.
Hutton Brown: I can tell, but I'm pretty beat after all it took to get home.
Hutton isn't surprised to see Jackie raise an unconvinced eyebrow at his statement. Should have known, for she was his wife.
Hutton Brown: Alright, I'm pretty wired after sleeping on the plane.
Jackie Brown: That's what I thought.
Their lips meet again in a flash, a passionate mess as they revel in their love. Things would escalate quickly from this point forward Hutton knew and his meeting with Lisa Ramierez be damned. There would just be a serious need for a few cups of coffee in the morning.
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04/03/2012:
When Hutton had designed his private suite, he'd never had a single thought of being married. As such the small "bachelor-style" apartment, if you if will, was designed with as few rooms as possible. The foyer led to all other rooms in the apartment, with doors to the bedroom with a master bathroom, eat-in kitchen, living room, and the powder room. While Jackie had originally protested vehemently at the idea of living with him "at work", she had caved just two weeks after their wedding and now found the space quite cozy. And while she secretly hoped she could convince him of some renovations to the suite in the near future, she had to admit it was nice to be able to sleep in and already be at work. Because after a night like the one they had just shared, it was nice to only have cross a short distance to the coffee machine when they awoke at eight thirty when Hutton's alarm went off. Now the pair sat at the table in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in each of their respective hands, just enjoying the afterglow of it all.
Hutton Brown: So did I really look rusty?
Jackie chuckles at his comment and Hutton smiles. They had hardly said good morning to each other and he immediately brings up her mocking comment from the beginning of the night. But the look in his eyes is serious and she turns serious as well, knowing that he valued her criticism more than anyone's.
Jackie Brown: Your strikes were lacking their usual quickness. When's the last time you hit the bag?
Hutton Brown: Well I've be-
Jackie Brown: The last time you really hit the bag Hutton.
Hutton Brown: I haven't hit it hard since before I got injured. I've been taking it easy.
Hutton looks down at his coffee in disappointment with himself and Jackie understood why. If his strikes were holding his game back, he was in a bad position. His striking abilities were his strongest by far and to allow them to slip noticeably enough wasn't something he could ever be proud of. Jackie reaches out at grasps his left hand with hers, squeezing reassuringly as his eyes meet hers.
Jackie Brown: As much as I appreciate your self-concern, you need to get back to work. I'm probably the last one I would have expected to hear say this but, if you're as serious about this as you seem, you need to step back into your old routine.
She really hadn't given him permission to do it, nor did he need it, but hearing her words brings the smile back to his face. Hutton squeezes her hand back in return and nods his head, his warm gaze putting her at ease.
Hutton Brown: Thanks Jackie.
Jackie Brown: Hey, don't think for a second that I'm anymore happy with all this. I still don't like the idea of you being back there so soon.
Jackie turns slightly red in the face as Hutton begins laughing aloud, Jackie squeezing tightly on his hand in return.
Jackie Brown: What's so funny?
Hutton Brown: You sound just like my shrink.
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04/03/2012:
Lisa Ramierez: I'm still don't like the idea of you being back in the WFWF so soon.
The Acela Express had brought Brown to the heart of the nation's capitol is less than three hours time and from there it was a measly twenty minute walk to Fort McNair's Army Health Clinic for his one o'clock meeting with Sergeant Lisa Ramierez. Their greetings had been professional on each end and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though Hutton found he could not stop himself from erupting into slight laughter at Ramierez' opening statement. She, much like a certain someone, didn't looked pleased by his amusement.
Lisa Ramierez: What's so funny?
Hutton Brown: That is exactly, and I mean word for word, what my wife said this morning.
Lisa Ramierez: Somehow, I'm not surprised.
Lisa continues to look at him with quite a stern gaze, though what she was attempting to accomplish with it Hutton wasn't completely certain. She couldn't seriously believe that a few stern words and an unintimidating stare would just get him to up and quit the WFWF, did she?
Hutton Brown: So shall I assume you watched my match?
Lisa Ramierez: Yes, I did. But simply for observation purposes, mind you.
Hutton Brown: So do you think I looked rusty?
A confused look crosses her face suddenly.
Lisa Ramierez: Excuse me?
Hutton Brown: Never mind.
Ramierez looks like she wants to speak, whether it be to ask a question or attempt to get him to explain his previous question. Ultimately however, she refrains from doing so. So would that count as one or two points for the patient?
Hutton Brown: So what did you want me to talk about today Lisa? I've been laying out quite an adventure for you thus far.
She remained silent for several long moments, knowing full well that he was toying with her. But she had no intention of bending to his will and would prove that it was hers he would bend before. But even as she made him wait, he showed no sign of impatience and simply waited for her to set the pace. Whether he was truly handing her control of their meeting or simply the illusion of it was uncertain, but she was determined to be holding the reigns over both this and their future sessions.
Lisa Ramierez: I would like to hear about your initial meeting with General Septum and Xavier Pierce.
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02/06/2012:
Hutton Brown: You want me to do what?
This was not Hutton Brown's first visit to one of the nation's most secure buildings, The Pentagon, but this was his first time being there alone. Shortly after turning twenty, he'd join his father on three separate trips to The Pentagon for various legal conferences with various ranking members of the United States Department of Defense. And while he had not been privy to the information present during this meetings, he understood it's importance to both his father and the military men. As such, he understood the honor it was to have access to such a facility, let alone be here on official business of the United States Government.
Hutton Brown: I'm sorry, but could you run that by me again? I just want to make sure I understand everything.
The tall, heavily built man in a military uniform seated across from him, who Brown knew only as General Septum, looked to Xavier Pierce for confirmation before doing so. Seated in a small wood paneled conference room, with a long table and black leather office chairs on either side, it wasn't hard for Hutton to observe such a notion. In the process, his eyes inadvertently locked with those of Xavier Pierce; Pierce staring into Brown's eyes coldly for several long moments, as if searching for his intentions. The fact that Septum had looked to Pierce meant something Hutton realized; the General himself not particularly trusting Brown and that the only reason he was here before him was because of whatever praise Xavier had put forth about him. Compliment or not, Hutton forced himself to nod confidently at Pierce who continued to stare at him for several long moments before turning to Septum and nodding slightly. Apparently satisfied, Septum begins to speak almost instantly.
General Septum: Alright, from the top. As of seventeen hundred eastern standard time, an asset of the United States Department of Defense, who shall remain anonymous to you for security purposes, successfully made contact with a high value target associated directly with illegal arms trafficking. More specifically, a target with known ties to several terrorist organizations including Al-Qaeda and all the suspicions that come with such ties.
Reaching into the file on the table before him, Septum pulls forth a standard sheet of eight and a half by eleven paper and slides it across the table to Brown as he had during the first rundown. Upon it are two grainy photographs of a man of middle-eastern descent, both seemingly lifted from a security camera of some kind.
General Septum: This man's name is Khalil Said and we have finally, after several years of unsuccessful attempts, finally made contact with him to enact a deal.
Septum pauses for a moment and for effect, Hutton taking the bait and immediately regretting it before the words had even left his mouth.
Hutton Brown: And you need an Arms Dealer.
Xavier Pierce: Or someone who can convince Said that he is one.
Brown looks over to Pierce once more, Xavier speaking for the first time throughout the half hour since their conference had begun. Pierce returns his gaze but says nothing further, leaving the floor open for Septum to continue. Even as the General begins again, Hutton remains lock on Xavier Pierce; Brown now the one searching for his true intentions.
General Septum: And that is where you would come in, Mr. Brown.
Hutton Brown: How?
General Septum: I'm just repeating my initial warning that all the information you are hearing right now is highly classified. It is not to leave this room, under the crime of treason.
His words were both meant as a threat and a warning, of which Hutton knew full well. It was a daunting thing to hear however and it caused Brown to pause for several seconds before responding.
Hutton Brown: I understand.
General Septum: Alright then. Mr. Brown...
Hutton Brown: Please... Please call me Hutton.
General Septum: If you insist, Hutton. Under the Bush administration, a series of false identities were secretly created by the DoD for situations such as these. Transactions falsified, money shifted through accounts to validate said false transactions, contacts created for further infiltration into the arms trade. No expense was spared in making certain that these identities would appear to be one hundred percent legitimate Arms Traffickers. And they would all be one hundred percent anonymous.
Hutton Brown: And you want me to assume one of those identities?
Xavier Pierce: In background only.
Both Brown and Septum turn to Pierce as he suddenly speaks out once again.
Xavier Pierce: May I General?
General Septum: Proceed.
Xavier Pierce: Hutton, you will undertake the identity of an "Arms Dealer" in background only. You will still be Hutton Brown and your life will reflect your life. So if you are to be the one to meet with Said, he will know your life just as well as you do.
Hutton Brown: And what is it exactly that you want me to do?
General Septum: Make the deal. Convince Said that you are who you say you are and make the deal.
Hutton Brown: That's it?
General Septum: I can assure you Hutton, that will be the hardest part of this entire operation. The rest, insertion, extraction, protection detail; we will handle.
And now comes the long obligatory pause, as Hutton simply leans back in his tall leather office chair; absorbing all the information that had been presented to him up to this point. He could agree with Septum, that making the deal with a Said would be the hardest part. The man was a professional arms trafficker and he, was not. Managing to sell such a story would certainly be so small task. But the burning question still hadn't been asked yet.
Hutton Brown: Why me?
Hutton looked at Septum as he asked the million dollar question but the General simply turned Brown's attention to Xavier Pierce. Turning to face Pierce, he found Xavier already staring at him.
Xavier Pierce: How long have we known each other Hutton?
Hutton Brown: Nearly ten years, off and on.
Xavier Pierce: And I've actually known you quite a few years longer, before we were ever introduced. Suffice it to say Hutton, I know you very well. I've kept track of you since your father passed and I know what you are capable of. You're a very compelling individual and can manipulate people with such ease and grace.
Hutton Brown: Wait.
Xavier Pierce: You...
Hutton Brown: No, no, wait.
Xavier certainly doesn't seem pleased by being forced to stop but, given the circumstances, allows Hutton to stop him and goes silent. Taking a deep breath, Hutton focuses his thoughts for a moment before looking Xavier Pierce dead in the face and laying them down as they appear.
Hutton Brown: Do you seriously expect me to believe that I'm being chosen for a top secret government mission because I'm compelling and manipulative? Because I don't. I'm not that naive. So then I have to think that it's because you talked me up to the General here enough to where he decided to give me a shot, but that's not true either. Your kind words got me consideration for this assignment, not the interview.
And it certainly can't be my ever charming personality, full of greed and self-worth. Because I can think of a dozen or so other compelling, greedy, manipulative bastards that fight this profile better in certain aspects. So I have to go with option D, the fact that my life is all but an open book to anyone with cable television. That like it or not, I'm technically a celebrity. And why would a celebrity risk being spotted in whatever third world nation you'd be sending me if I didn't have truly important reason for being there.
So in essence, I'm your perfect fake Arms Dealer.
Both Pierce and Septum remain locked on him for several long seconds as he allows his words to sink in with the pain of men. Finally, Septum turns to Xavier with merely a crooked eyebrow, raising the smallest of chuckles from the current WFWF Owner.
Xavier Pierce: I told you he's your man.
General Septum: So it would appear
Hutton Brown: One small problem though Xavier.
Xavier Pierce: Oh?
Hutton Brown: I'm not an Arms Dealer, nor do I have any idea about being an Arms Dealer.
Xavier Pierce: Like the General said Hutton, you making the deal is the hardest part. Making you a believable Arms Dealer is a simple enough task. Or perhaps you're forgetting that I used to be an arms merchant myself?
Hutton Brown: And now you're on television. Traded up or down?
Hutton and Xavier exchange mild laughter, the atmosphere in the room settling down slightly while Septum tidies up the file he'd been reading from throughout the conference. The General clears his throat, commanding the attention of the room in an instant and the mood returns to the business at hand without a second thought.
General Septum: I hate to bring you into this and demand an answer from you without any time for consideration, but this is a highly time sensitive mission. I'm afraid I need an answer from you, right now. I need to know if you're willing to go through with this the whole way, we can't afford a single setback.
The reality of the situation doesn't phase Hutton in the slightest. The magnitude of it however, does. He'd had to make decisions in the blind before, hoping beyond hope and praying to the heavens that his decision had been the correct one.
General Septum: I won't mince words Hutton, there will certainly be a fair chance for danger and the risks here are certainly great. But you have the chance to sa-
Hutton Brown: I'm in.
Over the edge, over again.
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04/03/2012:
Lisa Ramierez: I think we'll end with that.
Hutton Brown: Already?
Lisa Ramierez: You'd be surprised how quickly time passes as we reflect on the past. We're actually twenty minutes over our scheduled finish, but I didn't want to stop you mid scene.
Brown doesn't reply however, instead slowly rising from his seat as he always did. He made it a point to leave on his speaking terms, not hers. Give her no further information than she needed to hear. He extended his hand to shake hers in goodbye, but instead, she spoke.
Lisa Ramierez: Can I ask you one last question Hutton?
Hutton Brown: Sure.
Lisa Ramierez: Why did you go back to the WFWF so quickly?
A question he had not expected from her, yet a question he had asked himself on several different occasions since the very moment he'd jumped the barricade at It's Super Effective. He paused for several long moment, studying her. He couldn't understand her reasoning for asking the question, yet at the same time saw no reason as to what harm it could cause by answering it. Puzzled as he was, he chose to answer.
Hutton Brown: The WFWF Championship.
Lisa Ramierez: And how far are you willing to go to get it?
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04/15/2012:
And so, he'd gone back to the bag with the same ferocious vigor he had before his injury; Hutton Brown not just using the traditional punching bag but making use of several trainers for nearly two weeks to get himself back into his peak physical condition. If there had been a single flaw in his ability against Trace Demon, there wouldn't be as he went against Drakz. He couldn't afford there to be one, he wouldn't allow there to be one. He'd done all he could in preparation for Drakz, and would have one final workout tomorrow in last minute crunch time. Hence why he was flying out tonight, giving himself a full day before the show to ensure himself he was ready.
His left arm had felt no pain since returning to his intense workout routine, yet as he stuff a few shirts into his suitcase, he couldn't help but stare at it; clenching and unclenching his fist several times. He is pleased to feel no pain no and becomes so focused upon it that he doesn't notice Jackie stepping up behind him. With a gentle shove of her shoulder, she pushes him aside and pulls the t-shirts back out of his suitcase; the shirts now a crumbled mess.
Jackie Brown: My god, can you really not pack a suitcase?
Hutton Brown: You've seen my drawers, haven't you?
She nods her head and chuckles, both out of disgust and humor as she begins folding his shirts and placing them into the bag one at a time. But even chuckling, her face looks sullen. She stops folding midway through the third shirt, at looks up at him; face full of concern.
Jackie Brown: Promise me you'll be careful out there.
Hutton finds himself taken aback by her words, but pulls her in close regardless, squeezing her tightly.
Hutton Brown: Hey, I'll be fine. I promise.
Jackie Brown: Just don't let that title get the best of you. You have to draw the line of "how far you're willing to go" for it.
He waited for her to say something, anything. Admit that she knew more than she was letting on, but nothing came. Instead, she pushed herself closer to him and returned her warmth with his. She'd tell him when she was ready. Deep down however, that didn't satisfy him.
Hutton Brown: Yeah...
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"How far am I willing to go?". What kind of a silly question is that? This is a man's legacy we are talking about here; my legacy, to be exact. So of course I intend to go as far as I possibly can, as far as my body is able to carry me. And perhaps further, if I must. This isn't just simply about another victory or another championship reign; this is my legacy. About knowing that I will be remembered, that my name will not be forgotten about tomorrow or the next day. Never.
People question why I need this. They seem to believe that I should have enough in my life to be satisfied. I own a largely successful media conglomerate, hold stakes in dozens of the countries largest corporations, and have my eyes set on major expansionary moves for the immediate future that are more than certain to make me wealthier. Not to mention the numerous accolades and achievements I have earned in the wrestling industry. By all definition, I am on top of the world. And yet, I still need this. I refuse to allow the time I have invested in this industry to be forgotten, the five years in which in have performed for these crowds to be for naught.
Such is the reason I am willing to push myself this far, the reason I can forgo the fact that my arm is slowly deteriorating. That I ignore the advice and warnings of my doctor, my shrink, and even, while she tries to do so discreetly, my wife. It is because I know that by winning the WFWF Championship, my legacy will finally be complete. And try as they might, the wrestling industry will never be able to rid itself of my name. The name Hutton Brown will remain in the hearts and minds of wrestling fans for all of the future of professional wrestling and the mere mention of my name will spark emotion.
What about your legacy Drakz? What will you be remembered for when you can no longer compete? A world championship reign, a few lesser championship reigns, and a Hall of Fame Induction seem impressive but, in reality, are they truly as valuable as you think? What makes you any different from a man like Phillip Schnieder when the two of your can no longer compete? You're both former WFWF World Champions at that point, with a Hall of Fame Induction a piece, and you're lesser title reigns. What will make people remember you when compared to him, or vice versa?
And what happens when your time finally comes, and you leave this earth? Who will remember you then? Because you are like the rest of the world Drakz, you work day in and day out simply to survive. You're at peace with yourself because you know your family will remember you, but what happens if your bloodline fades from existence? I'll tell you. You become a distant memory and then, as time passes, you too will fade from existence. But not me.
That, is why I can defeat you Drakz. You fight solely for tomorrow, taking each day as it comes and dealing with your problems as they present themselves. For you, defeat at my hands is simply something you are embarrassed over, something you will seek to correct in the future. But for me, defeat at your hands is simply not an option. Because I don't fight for tomorrow, I fight for the future; my future. This doesn't simply apply to you however Drakz. This applies to anyone who stands before me in my pursuit of the WFWF Championship, in my pursuit of my legacy. I can not allow anyone to stop me from achieving this, be it you Drakz, or Michael Kyzer, even Phillip Schnieder. Trace Demon was the first to realize that I will not be stopped, and now you shall be the second.
I'm sorry Drakz, I truly am. But I have no choice. While you slowly but surely fade away into obscurity, I must step by. For I, I seek the path to Immortality.
I dont know good luck 
