The UN building was in utter chaos — as was the rest of the world — but nowhere more so than the room full of world leaders determined to save their own skin, each yelling over the other and spitting all over the room.
"DAMMIT JAMES, DON'T YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!" one leader rang out.
"WE LOST OUR BEST ASSET BECAUSE OF YOU!" another yelled, throwing something at James.
They confiscated my gun after my last stunt, so I was half ready to charge the bastard myself.
"B-but you all agreed to it—"
"SHUT IT! IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?!"
That's it. I'm going to kill him. I moved to grab a pen — but that's when several alarm bells went off at once, warning us that an intruder had just entered the building. Every guard in the room mobilized, aiming at the door as the loud sound of crashes and walls being broken echoed all the way down the hall.
Outside, two women protested loudly.
"Papa, please don't get eaten by aliens!"
"Father, look what you're doing — you're causing a ruckus. I told you I'd schedule a meeting."
You're kidding. I prayed to whatever god was listening that who I thought was walking through that door wasn't actually walking through that door.
They weren't listening.
What walked through that door was the figure of an old man.
"Yo, guys—"
He was immediately cut off by a rapid barrage of bullets that hit him all at once.
I smacked my forehead. Come on, you idiots — we know that won't work.
It in fact didn't.
Emerging from the smoke, stepping forward like he was walking into a Sunday morning, was a man that sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"Hi guys — we all get that out of our systems?"
Jacob Mercer. Age 84. Currently a little drowsy from the 2,000 milligrams worth of hard anesthetics that were shot into his system by the guards.
One armed guard made the mistake of charging him. I watched my father simply backhand him and send him straight to the ground.
My father's eyes scanned the room and immediately locked with mine — lighting up the moment they did.
"My boy!" I watched my 84 year old father skip like a child across the room and pull me into a hug that I'm fairly certain cracked a rib. "How are you, my boy? You haven't called since this whole thing started!"
I was trying to avoid you finding out.
"Sorry Pop — they've had me all over the place."
He shot a look at the world leaders. I swear one of them pissed themselves.
"They giving you a hard time?"
Yes.
"No, not at all — mostly just trying to figure out how to not get us blown up."
He sat me down, then walked over to James and — they dapped each other up.
"JAMES!"
"JACOB! How you been, brother? No Supreme Court cases this time?"
Jacob shrugged. "None this time. I came to offer my services," he said with a dramatic bow.
Before anyone could respond, the sound of high heels clicking at a rate that definitely shouldn't be humanly possible echoed down the hall — and then she appeared, with my little sister on her back.
Iris Mercer. Age 24. Currently furious that she had to run in heels.
"Father!"
"Oh baby, glad you could catch—"
She immediately grabbed his ear.
"Father, I told you specifically not to barge through the door. I could have gotten you a meeting within a week."
Meanwhile Avery — who had been hitching a ride like a koala — hopped off Iris's back and ran to embrace me.
"Big Brother!!!"
I picked her up and twirled her around. "Hey Avery — how you been?"
She looked down. Clearly hiding that she was sad about Goliath. She'd been sending me messages about how cool he was during the propaganda push. I'll be honest — so was I.
She pointed at Jacob. "Daddy wants to fight."
I sighed and set her down, meeting her at eye level. "Yeah — you know him." I did a mock impression of Jacob.
"Face everything head on!"
That made her giggle. But the worry was still there underneath it.
"I don't want him to die," she said, looking down.
Just imagining her watching the fight made my heart break and my blood boil. Those bastards — did they have to be so brutal? I shoved those thoughts aside.
"Me too, kid. Me too."
"Ow — ow — come on sweetie, you know your father is not the waiting ty— ow, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Iris turned to me and gave me the look.
I tapped my heart twice.
I know, girl. I know.
"Anyway — I came to fight."
Before James could respond with what would have been the most enthusiastic yes in presidential history, another world leader spoke up.
"No. Absolutely not. We will not have this — this terrorist representing Earth." The other leaders nodded as another chimed in.
"Agreed. Imagine how pitiful we'd look sending an old man."
You're currently under investigation for embezzlement. Don't know why you're talking. I kept that to myself.
I could feel the rage radiating off my father — still facing James. If it wasn't for my job I would've absolutely let him run loose. Instead I stepped forward.
"Shall we take this privately, sir?"
James nodded — I could feel the excitement radiating off him. "Yes, yes — come, come."
We walked to his office where he promptly shut the door and slammed both hands on his desk. "What are your terms?" he said toward Jacob with the desperation of a hopeful man.
"My what now?"
Even I was confused.
Terms? What? Then something clicked. Oh god. I turned to face Iris — her glasses already pushed up, already calculating. Fifty page slide minimum at least.
"We offered a volunteer bonus as a way to incentivize anyone of status who wished to come forward."
"Oh no, I'm goo—"
Jacob was cut off by Iris slamming a fifty page document onto the desk.
Where the hell did she get that was a universal thought.
"Okay honey — maybe we tone it down and don't drain the entire UN's resources."
Iris simply huffed. "You're coming out of retirement to fight aliens. I think we can demand more than usual."
"She's right — anything you want, anything at all, if you win," James said, talking to my father like a car salesman who didn't realize his client was about to pay for the Lamborghini in cash.
"True as that might be, Unity is rather well off all things conside—"
Jacob was interrupted by the sound of a loud vrrrr that shook the entire building and made Avery cling to my leg.
James approached the back window and let out a long sigh. "They're here."
Gio walked in first with a loud "Hello, Mr. James!" vigorously shaking his hand.
"H-hey Gio — what are you doing here? The fight hasn't been announced yet," James said, still clearly unsettled by the fact that the Anthorians could appear in his backyard whenever they felt like it.
"Ah well — as an apology for my mishap last time, I came bearing a gift." He produced a sealed packet of papers and handed them over.
As James cracked it open, Gio walked over to our group and examined us. Avery hid behind me.
"Hmm — was this a bad time? It appears your fighter isn't here," he said. Not as a taunt. Genuine confusion.
I saw a vein bulge in my father's head as he stepped forward and placed a hand on Gio's shoulder.
And just for a moment — not even that, a flicker — I swear I saw a twitch. Like Gio was going to hit him in response.
"Actually, that would be me," Jacob said, forcing a smile.
Gio, meeting his smile with a genuine one, looked joyfully surprised. "You? Why — that's amazing!"
He whispered something to my father that made him burst out in genuine laughter. "You're so right!" I watched them shake hands and fall into some old man conversation that — I'll be honest — I completely tuned out.
"Well — if you're here, do you mind if I bring out your competition?"
"Not at all. Bring em out."
Gio waved to a figure standing just outside the door.
"Taro — come on in! Meet your opponent!"
What came through those doors wasn't a fighter. It was a damn giant. I almost snapped my neck just looking up. Ten feet minimum. That signature Anthorian green with white hair that looked like it had regrown from a buzzcut.
Jacob let out an appreciative whistle.
"Ain't you a tall glass of tequila."
I think me and Iris both threw up in our mouths a little.
"This is my grandson Tarokealohamakanalaniwaikolohanaohanamalamapunahouikaika — or Taro for short. Say hi."
I think I got whiplash just trying to say that in my head.
Taro extended a hand to shake — one that Jacob had to physically step back to reach.
As they shook hands and talked, the same words Gio had whispered to me earlier echoed in my mind.
Previous tournament winner.
As much as I hate to admit it, I could picture my father dying to this creature. But when I looked over at him as they left — I saw the expression he always wore when something truly threatened him.
A smile.