Author Topic: The Dream Comes To An End  (Read 644 times)

Offline sean jackson

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The Dream Comes To An End
« on: May 21, 2015, 10:30:52 PM »
 The timing was perfect.  After his actions in Algiers, Sean Jackson had placed everyone on notice, including the SCW world heavyweight champion.  Even though Gabriel showed no fear at the Mental Rapist winning King of the Hill, Sean knew that it was his golden ticket to regaining the championship.  But first, he had to take care of a minor distraction.


---------------------------------------------------------------



Oh please, Sean thought to himself.  He would have loved for Mark Ward to give him another week off, maybe to watch closely as Gabriel performed in the six man tag match.  To wait for that magical moment to come, that beautiful chaos where all hell had broken loose, where everyone had become pre-occupied.

After leaving Algiers, Sean looked at Tunis as the opportunity to continue his mind games with the SCW champions.  But having to deal with the on again, off again Bo Dreamwolf would almost certainly derail that.

Or would it?

Sean was kind of familiar with the Cherokee from Tahlequah, Oklahoma.  Or maybe the better description was that he didn't know the former SCW Roulette Champion at all.  Much like other indians from Oklahoma and Nebraska, Sean figured them to be nothing more than drunkards, or drug heads.  Nothing but the lower dregs of society that time should have forgotten all about, not even worthy of a head nod, much less to share a wrestling ring with.

Because Sean had married the daughter of oil tycoon Cameron Duke, the need for security was at the highest priority while traveling between Algeria and Tunisia.  There was simply no way they were going to fly between the two countries, not with every two bit terrorist organization out there just itching to shoot something down.  No, Cameron was going all out to protect his daughter Pamela, his only child, the one who would take over his empire when the time finally came.  

So as the five vehicle convoy made it's way down the highway, Sean found himself staring out into the desert and into the direction of the Tyrrhenian Sea.  They could have easily taken a cruise from Algiers to Tunis, but pirates had made that thought just as inplausible.  In other words, there were very few in this part of the world that Cameron Duke trusted when it came to his daughter, and even fewer when it came to the owners of Sin City Wrestling.

With the Arab Spring that started in 2011, to the Islamic State today, he questioned the motives of SCW, of it's hierarchy to bring professional wrestlers into an area where radical islamic fundamentalists waited, to end their lives by whatever means neccessary in the name of jihad.

Seated across from him, Pamela wondered what was going through his mind.  She knew that it was probably on Gabriel instead of Bo Dreamwolf, so she breaks the silence.

Pamela:  You okay?

Without taking his eyes from the desert whisping by, his response is quick, and expected.

Sean:  Yeah, I'm okay.  Why?

Having been married to him since 2001, Pamela knows him better than anyone.  He's been quiet before, but never while traveling through a North African country in a five vehicle caravan.

She leans in and places her hands on his knees.  A move that prompts him to shift his gaze from the window and towards her.

Pamela:  You've been quiet.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on hers.

Sean:  I've been...thinking.

Of course he has, and she knows why.

Pamela:  Forget Gabriel, just get him completely out of your mind.  You made your point already by threatening to cash in twice on Sunday....

She never gets to finish as he cuts her off completely.  Yes, he did threaten, but the message wasn't quite received in the manner that he wanted.

Sean:  Don't start Pam, just don't start.  

The frustration in his tone is unmistakable.  He wanted to scare the ever loving shit out of Gabriel, to let him know that at any given time he could cash that contract in.  But Gabriel barely took notice and that didn't sit well with the former world heavyweight champion.

Sean:  That sonofabitch could have cared less about my scare tactics.  I saw what he put on twitter, and it made me want to shove those words down his throat.  It made me want to...

Pamela:  That's enough Sean.  He wants you to lose your cool, to go flying off the handle so you will make a huge mistake.  Don't you understand that you're holding all the cards right now?

Sean goes to look away, but she catches his chin between her fingers, bringing his eyes back to hers.

Pamela:  Of course he's acting like he isn't scared, but we both know that it's nothing more than a facade.  He didn't go through all the trouble of regaining the championship, just to hand it back to you a few months later....

She shakes her head.

Pamela:  He's trying his damnest to hold on, wanting you to believe that all of this was for nothing.  He wants you to doubt yourself, so he won't feel guilty about doubting himself.  But it won't do you a bit of good if you overlook this Bo Dreamwolf character and he slips a win over you.

Sean rolls his eyes.  He couldn't even fathom the scenario where he could possibly lose in Tunis.  Not today, not tomorrow, most definitely not this Sunday.

Sean:  Give me a break Pam, like some part time has been could ever sneak a win on me.  

He turns his attention back towards the desert.

Sean:  I've wrestled more times in the last couple of months than this guy has all year.  He's nothing more than an after thought, someone who wants to be something bigger than he is.  To be wrestling's version of Billy Mills, thinking that he can stroll off the reservation and shock the world.

Sean is referring to the runner who went to the University of Kansas.  He quit the program only to join the Marines and win olympic gold at the 1964 Olympics.

Quiet all this time, Marshall decides that it is time to chime in with his two cents.

Marshall:  An after thought Sean?  the guy is a former Roulette Champion.  He may not be in your league, but he's also someone that you shouldn't overlook.

Sean shoots an evil glance towards his attorney.

Sean:  Really Marshall?

He then mean mugs Vanessa as well.

Sean:  How about you?  you've got something you want to add?  

Vanessa never turns his way, instead choosing to look straight ahead.  This wasn't her fight, so she was staying out of it.  From the moment Pamela entered the picture, Vanessa's role became greatly decreased.  So all she does is shake her head no.

Pamela:  We aren't jumping on you Sean.  Just trying to get you to focus on the person at hand, which is Bo....

She doesn't quite get to finish her sentence before realizing that the convoy was slowing down.  Up until that point, there weren't any vehicles in front, which allowed them to go at a speed greater than the posted limit.  But now, they found themselves getting closer to the flow of traffic...

The driver of their vehicle, the third vehicle in the convoy pushes a button and activates his headset.  He immediately hears the traffic from the lead vehicles.

driver:  We're getting close to the Tunisian border....

He turns his head ever so slightly towards the right, letting Sean and company know that he's addressing them.

driver:  So we're slowing down.

Riding in an armored plated Escalades, the security team was well protected.  Possessing their fair share of fire power, each driver had their own sidearm as well as a wide array of assault rifles for the remaining members of the team.

In his earpiece, the driver is listening to the chatter from the two vehicles in front as well as the two vehicles bringing up the rear.  Everyone on the security detail has their eyes peeled in every direction possible, making sure this high value target stays safe.

Within moments, the convoy enters a checkpoint that is manned by the Algerian military.  With dark tint on the windows, it makes it impossible for anyone to see in, giving immediate advantage to the armed escorts looking outward without the disadvantage of the sun's glare blinding them.  So because of the tint, the driver rolls his window down and prepares to flash the security credentials.

Sean:  What are they looking for?

The driver again turns his head ever so slightly, the response coming quickly.

driver:  Terrorists, contraband, anything illegal that shouldn't be leaving or entering the country.

Just the word terrorist told Sean Jackson all he needed to know about the need for a military checkpoint.  With Al Qaeda, ISIS, and other terrorist groups out there, he know longer felt the need to question any military checkpoints from this point on.

As the checkpoint funnels into a single lane, he can see concrete barricades ahead manned by soldiers in makeshift armored vehicles and heavy guns.  It's enough to send a chill running down his spine.

driver:  Besides, after a museum was attacked in Tunis a couple of months ago, most of the countries here have stepped up their military presence in order to prevent it from happening again.  But to stay on the safe side, when we get into Tunis, we'll let you know the places to avoid until it's time to leave.

That's enough to bring the worry level up for everyone else in the vehicle.  When Sin City Wrestling agreed to bring Climax Control to Tunis, no one knew about the museum attack, or the need for added security.

Marshall:  Places to avoid?

He glances over at Pamela and Sean.

Marshall:  Places to avoid?

He leans back in his seat, a look of trepidation on his face.

Marshall:  Oh, this is just great.  There's places to avoid.

The driver smiles.  While shaking his head, he responds to the way Marshall is freaking out.

driver:  (under his breath)  Pussy.  



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A few hours later
In Tunis
Le Corail Suites Hotel


The location couldn't have been more perfect.  Just down the road from the American Embassy, where the presence of military personnel, law enforcement, and multiple security agencies littered the area.  As the convo pulled up in front of the hotel, doors began swining open as Pamela Duke-Jackson's security detail begin filing out, taking up positions around her vehicle.  With the team in place, the back doors of her Escalade opens and everyone quickly exits.  

As the doorman steps into view, a security guy points him in the direction of the luggage, which slowly is loaded up on the cart.  As security escorts them inside the hotel, it doesn't take the manager long to notice that a very, VERY important person has just entered the premises.  Adjusting his tie, Adel Sellam makes it a point to introduce himself.

Adel:  Welcome to El Corail....

Sean is stunned by the manager's perfect english.  To stand there, listening to this hotel manager speak was amazing.  Especially considering that he couldn't speak a lick of arabic.

Adel:  I hope you enjoy your stay.  My name is Adel Sellam and I'm the manager here.

Raising his hand and snapping his fingers, one of the bellboys quickly walks over.  As the bellboy does, Adel motions with his free hand towards the front desk.

Adel:  If you will accompany me, I will ensure your check in is as painless as possible.

With a simple nod of his head, Adel turns on his heels and begins to make his way to the front desk area.  Taking his cue, Sean follows alongside, with Pamela bringing up the rear.  Fortunately, reservations were made ahead of time so of course checking in would be painless.  As they approach, the man behind the counter smiles and in the best english possible...

man:  Name...please.

Sean:  Jackson.  Sean and Pamela Jackson.  We've got...

man:  Yes, we show you with six rooms...

Picking up an envelope, the man behind the counter hands it over to the former SCW and ACW world heavyweight champion.

man:  and these are your room keys.  

With the keys handed over, Adel then motions for the entourage and security team to make their way towards the elevator.  Because of who Pamela is, because of who her father is, it was only fitting that he would escort them to their rooms personally.  Once in the elevator, it begins the slow movement upwards and to the top floor.

Adel:  For your pleasure, we have a restaurant, a bar, and are approximately two and a half miles from the sea.  

He then shifts his attention to Pamela and Vanessa who are standing side by side.

Adel:  We don't have a pool, but we do have a sundeck.  But it would be in your best interest to be very careful about laying out in anything considered offensive.  There are some very extreme thinking muslims living here....

He searches for his words carefully.

Adel:  Who are set in their ways, and could be very upset if you show too much skin in their presence.  So upset, that they could try to administer their own form of justice in the name of Allah.

That brings a different level of thought to both Pamela and Vanessa.  But Sean quickly reminds her of the security detail that will be with them at all times.

Sean:  While we appreciate the warning, we've brought our own security team.  Besides, the American Embassy is just down the road.  So if it gets too hairy, we'll simply head there.

As the elevator shudders to a stop, the doors open and everyone steps out.  Surprisingly, part of the security detail is already in place, standing in the hallway between the elevator doors and the room Sean would be sharing with Pamela.  Seeing security standing there, Adel's face is filled with amazement as they obviously raced up the stairwell in order to get to the top floor first.

A bit shocked himself, Sean quickly recovers enough for a smile to form.  He had heard about these former military guys, usually hired on by companies like Black Water.  But until now, had never seen it up close and personal.  He now knew that he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Sean:  You know, scratch that.  I believe our security team has just about everything covered.

With a new found sense of confidence, Sean grabs Pamela by the hand as they begin to make their way down to the last door in the hallway.  The other rooms were reserved for Vanessa and Marshall by themselves, and the security team with the other rooms as a buffer.  In other words, to get to Sean or Pamela, you would have to get by a small army.


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30 minutes later


Leaning on the balcony railing, Sean Jackson is wearing khaki shorts and a white in color Sean Jackson logo tee shirt.  Wearing a pair of dark shades, his face is turned directly towards the camera.  

Sean:  Bo Dreamwolf....

The video begins a bit out of character.  He may be talking to Bo Dreamwolf, but it's easy to see that Sean still has Gabriel on his mind.  

Sean:  Why would you even make this trip?

Behind him is a high rise building with AMI on it.  But what is equally surprising is the green trees and green grass that litters the backdrop.  To anyone who wouldn't know better, they would think that there was no way this video was being made in Tunis.  But to those who would, it didn't come as a surprise at all.

Sean:  You have no chance of winning.  You know it, I know it, and pretty soon, everyone else is going to know it.  In your time with Sin City Wrestling, you've manged to win the Roulette championship...

He shakes his head, unimpressed.

Sean:  But not much else.

As Sean is speaking, Pamela walks into view wearing a blueish green workout top and shorts.  She has two glasses of champagne in her hands as she takes up position next to her husband.

Sean:  Where as I...

He smiles as Pamela hands a glass off to him.

Sean:  I've dominated the landscape in Sin City Wrestling like no other.  I've been the ACW world heavyweight champion...

He smiles.

Sean:  The SCW world heavyweight champion...

The smile gets larger.

Sean:  Hell, I was one half of the tag team that did the impossible.  Accomplished something that no other tag team could do in five years....

With his free hand, Sean holds up five fingers for the camera.

Sean:  And that was beat Sinful Obsession.

The smile gets even larger as the glass comes to his lips.  After taking a sip and letting it slide down his throat, he continues.

Sean:  Yes Bo, I'm talking about Gabriel and Despayre.  The only two men to ever go undefeated for five years as a tag team....

He chuckles as his head slowly tilts back.

Sean:  Until they ran into me.

Well, Drexel Matheson had something to do with that.  But to listen to the story from Sean Jackson, you would think that Drexel played no part in the decision at all.  Matter of fact, it was Drexel who got the pinfall that night and not Sean.

Sean:  Damn Bo, I'm the man who finally retired Drake Green.  So if you're coming here having any thoughts of grandeur, thinking that once you step into the ring, you'll even have a snowballs chance of reclaiming any past glories, of defeating me...

As his head comes back to camera level, his eyes open, the smile is replaced by a stern look.  It has become apparant that play time is over and a moment of seriousness has taken over.

Sean:  Then let me remind you of the SCW stars that I've put out to pasture.  I ended Jamie Dean's career, I put his buddy Justin Halliwell in the hospital, and because of me, Drake Green wouldn't be caught dead in a wrestling ring.

He hands the glass off to Pamela.

Sean:  I've got my sights set on Gabriel, so I don't have time to play with some drunkard indian from a reservation in Oklahoma.  I'm a man on a mission, a man who is within a fingertip grasp of championship gold, and I'll be damned if I let it slip away because of you.

Sean takes off his glasses, showing them to be cold and calculating.  His nostrils flaring.

Sean:  Trust me Bo, you step into that ring on Sunday and I promise that I'll break your neck.  I'll remove the padding from around the ring, I'll use everything that isn't bolted down and most importantly, I'll blast out the back of your skull with a high knee because Bo....

The smile comes back as he places the sunglasses back over his eyes.

Sean:  I know how to get rid of people that are in my way.  You can count on that.



Fade.  
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