The Supreme Commander Returns

Chapter 4

Chapter Four - The Under ground Base.

"All of you don't know what you are doing?"

Natasha said, forcing confidence back into her and trying to sound firm.

"That woman you're taking belongs to Viktor Cross," she said, "he won't spare any of you if you go with her."

Draven paused mid-walk and turned to look at her. He didn't speak. Natasha and Scarface then misunderstood his silence for fear. Afterall, the cross family name is feared across Crestfall.

Scarface took over the floor, stepping forward as his confidence slowly returned seeing all the men quiet.

"She is right," he said, "I was sent to this place to get that woman in your arms by the heir of the Cross family. You don't want to mess with the Cross. People who did it before didn't live to tell the story."

Draven's Expression was firm and unreadable.

Scarface continued with his voice lifting further, the silence giving him more confidence.

"He's my master. He runs the biggest underground syndicate in this city." He said boastfully. "He has connections, power— power that can make all of you disappear in an instant." He smirked, his confidence spiralling, fueled by the standing behind the name of the Cross family.

He took one step forward. "Do you all know the consequences of offending such a man?" He spat. "You all are dead! You're finished."

He looked at all of them.

"If you'll knee and apologize right now for this mess you just caused, I'll let you walk away with broken limbs and if you're reasonable with me, I'll put in good words with Viktor to hire you." He said smoothly, his voice was considerate as though he was giving them a second chance.

"But if you are stubborn and willing to die. Once I tell Victor everything that happened here, you all are finished. Your choice. Knee!"

Marcus exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he'd just heard a long boring talk.

"Knee?" He scoffed, his expression cold. "You are a fool."

"You don't understand, do you?" Scarface took one step closer, willing to press on. "Viktor will..."

Marcus cut him off with a backhand that spun his head to the side.

Scarface held his face, the metallic taste of blood sharp on his tongue. He held his face.

"You..you slapped me.." His voice trembled.

Marcus wanted to attack again then Draven simply raised a hand. He stopped.

His cold expression landed on Marcus.

"So, the man who sent you to beat her up is Viktor Cross?"

Scarface dropped his hand, smirking with pride. "Yes, he is. He's my master. No one offends him and walks away unscathed."

He stared at him hard in disgust.

"You and your young master are going to get killed for touching her." Draven's voice was absolute and final.

Scarface burst into a mocking laughter.

"Kill Viktor Cross?" He laughed, "is this a joke to you. Are you deaf and don't you hear all I h.."

Marcus's palm shot out, connecting with his face like a whip. Scarface staggered to the side, his knee met the floor with a sharp crack.

Fear cracked through the confidence he was wearing.

"I really have connection with the Cross family...if you let me go..I'll speak with Viktor." His voice was shaking and desperate. "..who sent you? Viktor will offer triple. Power, money, woman.. anything you want."

Marcus's eyes darkened, detested by the words he was spitting out.

Draven walked over, looming over him, his expression steel.

"Tell me," He asked evenly, "where did they take the Kid?"

"The largest underground base. Viktor's secret underground base." The response tumbled from his mouth, desperate for acknowledgement. " I can take you there. Just spare me. I'll help you talk to Viktor."

He spilled the information, fast and desperate.

"I don't need your help." Draven simply said coldly and turned his back.

Marcus didn't wait for another gibberish from Scarface before he delivered a powerful kick that sent his body flying across the room, his body connected with the floor with thud and cracks of backbone.

"My back..my back.." He whimpered, his body arched painfully.

Marcus walked over to him and stomped his feet to his feet. His skull exploded under his boot in a splatter of blood and grey matter. He went silent.

Natasha staggered backward, her heart racing in panic, eyes wide in horror at the grotesque.

Marcus turned to her.

"No..no.... please... don't touch me. Don't.. she's my sister..she's my sister.." Her voice cracked with desperation as she sputtered the only word(sister) she thought might save her.

Draven paused on his way to the door and turned to her, his expression was firm and unreadable.

"Wait." He stopped Marcus and walked over to Natasha, staring at her intent and cold. "She is your sister and yet you stood there, watching those men bully her. You aren't different from all these animals."

He continued, his voice carrying with certainty.

"If you don't want to die now, you take me to the underground where they took the kid or I'll kill you right away."

Draven turned to Marcus, Alessia still carefully balanced in his arms.

"Arrange the medical team and give her the best medical treatment." He said.

Immediately he finished the order, Marcus moved to carry out the task.

The medical team arrived two minutes after the call. Alessia's unconscious body was laid on a stretcher and whisked inside the ambulance and treatment commenced on her with efficiency that any modern hospital couldn't rival.

Draven stared at her body as he walked out of the hall.

"Stay alive. I'll get our daughter." He said in his thoughts, a quiet promise. "I am back now and no one will ever hurt you again."

He concluded and walked out, taking Natasha with her.

At the underground auction of the Cross family, the hall was filled up with roars of men arguing about the price of humans like it was a commodity.

On the stage, the anchor stood with a microphone, dressed in a crisp white suit that couldn't brighten the filth he was. At the side, a young girl was locked up in a cage like an animal.

Julie.

She pressed against the iron bar, shaking with fear as noises in the hall erupted with mob intensity. She didn't know what was happening but she knew she was in danger and the only thing she could mutter was her mother's name.

Inside of a quieter room which was the control room of the underground auction sat Viktor Cross, the heir of the Cross family.

He sat in front of a large screen, his chest exposed, gurgling down an expensive brand of liquor in excitement while naked girls squirmed round him.

The spoiled ruthless brat of the Cross family, a narcissist with the brain of a man who can claim territory as long as he wants it.

He was watching the scene at the auction hall live from his private lounge and the auction chat feed.

Suddenly, a knock came on the door. The two thugs who brought Julie to the underground walked in and bowed before him.

"Young Master, Viktor, we've brought the girl." One said

"Good job. Good job." He grinned, his excitement bubbling over. "How about Alessia? I told you to bring her right to my room immediately. She has played hard enough." His grin widened.

"Ms.Natasha is dealing with her. They should be on their way now."

"Good. Good." He tossed two wades of cash to the men. "I'm in a good mood tonight. Enjoy."

"Thank you, master." The men picked up the money excitedly and strode out of the room.

Viktor picked up his phone. "Begin the game now!" He grinned maniacally, staring at the screen. Comments flooded the dark betting site. "Hahaha..it'll be a lot of fun tonight!!" He slammed his palm to the arm rest repeatedly out of sheer excitement.

Back to the main hall, the auctioneer stepped to the edge.

"Tonight, we'll be playing a game. The Giant vs the Smallie."

At the right side was Julie in a cage while at the left side was another girl, tall, robust, roaming the cage with murderous intent in her eyes. This girl has been injected with hard substances and she was going to fight against Julie, a terrifying game created by Viktor Money for fun and money.

At a distance in front was a vast stage rounded by a net. A stage for fight.

"Start the game!! Start the game!!" The hall chorused with a mob intensity.

"$70,000 on the beast!!"

"$80,000 on the beast!!! She'll tear the smallie apart!!"

"$200,000 on the smallie!" A man with a shaking pot-belly and mouth that reeks of alcohol slammed down a wades of cash on the desk.

"$400,000 on the biggie!!" Another man bet against him.

The noise continued to grow louder.