CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Hey, what is this? Open season on the press box. You can’t be in here,” said the announcer.

“I think you’re going to want us in here,” said Sly. He took a seat next to the announcer and indicated that the other man should proceed with calling the game. He opened the folders, one after another, showing the man the evidence against Glenda Pinken.

“How? How was she allowed to get away with this?” he asked.

“That’s for someone else to figure out, but this league will be done after this game. All we’re concerned with is saving those men down there and making sure that she pays for all of this.”

“What do you need?”

“Frustrations are getting the better of them,” said Ian. “They’re really starting to play dirty.”

“Starting to? Brother, they’ve been playing dirty since the minute the whistle was blown. I’d sure like to know what she paid them.”

“Not enough,” said Nine.

They watched as the Mustang’s quarterback threw another interception right into the hands of Lars. Lars began to take off, then stopped dead in his tracks.

“What’s he doing?” asked Gaspar.

“That defensive player has a fucking gun,” growled Ghost. “Hawk? Eagle? You got him?”

“ In our sights but… Oh! Damn!”

“What the fuck? Son-of-a-bitch!” yelled Gaspar, running toward the players. “Trak! I told you no to the alligator!”

Sure enough, Alvin was brought out onto the field by Trak. He leaped onto the player’s chest, knocking him backwards and the gun loose from his hand.

“You move, my alligator will take that hand,” said Trak quietly. “It would make the highlight reel, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the kind of highlight you were hoping for.”

“I had to! She made me!” yelled the player.

“ Mics on,” said Sly from the press box.

“Who made you?” asked Gaspar.

“Glenda Pinken,” said the player. The audience was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “She paid all of us to play dirty and hurt her players. She placed a two-million-dollar bet against her own team that they would lose. If they lost, she wouldn’t have to pay their bonuses, which would give her another five-and-a-half million back.”

“Who else was paid?” Nine asked the rest of the players. He did a slow turn, and when no one answered, the sound of rifle shots hit the dirt in front of their feet. The men jumped back, screaming like children. “I won’t ask again. Who else was paid?”

Every man on the field, and half those on the sidelines, raised their hands. She’d bought the other team. Nearly the entire team.

“You idiots. She wasn’t going to pay any of you.”

“She would! She said she would!” yelled a man.

“Really? When she lost this game and got all her millions back, did you just expect she’d hand over cash? She would walk away, and you could do nothing. Nothing! You couldn’t report her. You couldn’t do anything because it would have exposed you.”

“Make him stop!” screamed the man on the ground. Gaspar turned, seeing Alvin licking the man’s face.

“Trak, let him up,” said Gaspar exhaustively.

“I don’t want to,” said Trak in a definitive tone. “I don’t like him. Neither does Alvin. He said he tastes funny, like poison.”

Suddenly, the smell of feces made all the men scrunch their noses.

“Did you shit your pants?” he asked the player. “Jesus, he shit his pants. Let him up.”

“Fine. You move, I let the alligator go,” said Trak. Gaspar couldn’t help but laugh. It was too much, and it was all being caught live on camera.

“Fans, we have someone here in the press box that you need to hear. This is going out live in the stadium, as well as on all broadcasts. Sir? Go ahead.”

“You don’t know me, and you don’t need to know me. Here’s what you need to know. Glenda Pinken killed Petey Rossi and Butch Cavet. She made sure that Ed Hardesty could no longer play, and she denied these men the right to any payout of their contracts. She paid players from other teams to hurt her own team members.

“To top that off, you’re all sitting on top of an old chemical refinery that wasn’t properly leveled. Inside the clubhouse that these men have had to practice, train, shower, and meet is asbestos that has been slowly poisoning and killing all of these men.”

The rumble of shock and horror through the stands, and even by the opposing team’s players, was palpable.

“Hawk and Eagle, do you see Glenda in her box?” asked Nine.

“Negative. There is no one in the box. ”

“Find her. Everyone, find her.” The opposing team’s coach walked toward the coaching staff, all the while staring at Alvin.

“Keep that damn alligator away from me,” he smirked. “But I have to say that’s the best defensive play I’ve seen in a while. You’re up by almost fifty points now. I’d say we’ll call this a game. That will force her to pay your players, and we can be done with this bullshit. I don’t want to see anyone else hurt.”

“What about the players she paid to hurt our players?” asked Coach.

“There were circumstances with all of them that I’m sure you’ll understand. Let’s get this settled, and we can meet to figure it all out.”

“We know y’all want to get to her. I need support from comms,” said Eagle. “She’s driving a brand-new Range Rover P16, black, new tags on the back.”

“I’ve got it,” said Hiro.

“Angel? Your team has this. Find that bitch and bring her to us.”