Dylan Erickson had kept himself busy while he hadn’t been competing for the Conquest Wrestling Federation, although his work had had little to do with the world of professional wrestling.

 

He’d asked for the month off from Jeremiah Vastrix, and when Vastrix had been reluctant to grant his request Erickson had been forced to put in a call to his new business partner, Sebastian Jalabert. After that, there were no more objections from Vastrix when it came to Erickson taking time off. And so Erickson had missed the last series of CWF events, free to devote his energies to the blossoming business deal between himself and Sebastian Jalabert’s Warhammer.

 

The new Warhammer weapons factory in Miami had come together very quickly. Among other things, Erickson’s wealth had proven useful in speeding up approvals with the city. Goddamned politicians in the States were just as sleazy – and easy to bribe and manipulate – as the ones back in Russia. And despite massive backlash from the residents of the city, including a huge protest outside the Oceanic’s dock that Erickson had laughed at from the decks of the ship, construction had continued at a rapid pace.

 

And so a giant new factory, which dwarfed everything else within sight, had quickly come together over the last couple of months. The factory was over a thousand feet long and two hundred feet tall, and its three stacks – mirroring the great ship moored next to it – dominated the skyline for miles around.

 

While the factory had been going up, dozens of Erickson’s engineers and many of Warhammer’s people had been locked in conference after conference, designing all manner of weapons – guns, armored personnel carriers, artillery, you name it – to Sebastian Jalabert and Warhammer’s exacting requirements. As with before, Jalabert and his people knew what they wanted and were brutal to negotiate with, but by the time the giant factory was finished all the major details had been worked out. And not to mention –

 

“Dylan?”

Erickson shook his head, shaken out of his thoughts. He looked over to see his wife, Stefanya, standing beside him on the balcony of their massive suite on board the Oceanic.

“Oh. Hey, Stef. You all right?”

 

“I should be asking the same thing about you. Have you put a second’s thought towards your match with Duke Kosloff yet?”

 

Erickson shrugged. “Not really. I’ve been thinking about the factory and the deal with Warhammer. A couple more weeks and I think we’ll finally be in production. We’ll start with the assault rifles and move on to the bigger stuff in a couple months – “

 

Stefanya ignored him. “Oh, that’s all wonderful, but don’t you remember why you wanted to leave? Maybe you should have asked for another month off, then, if you’ve been so busy.”

 

Erickson turned to face her. “What the hell’s your problem, Stef? This is exactly what we wanted. We found a way to take care of the thousand people who escaped Russia with us. We finally got their green cards approved last week. We’ve got preliminary designs nailed down for everything Warhammer wants from us. We’ve negotiated pricing on everything and we’re going to clear half a billion dollars in profit by Christmas next year. Everything’s going great, Stef. This is exactly what I wanted to do when I was dreaming of getting out of that Russian hellhole and coming home after all of those years. And I’ll remind you whose idea it was to go there in the first place,” he finished coldly.

 

Stefanya stared daggers through her husband. “That’s not fair. If your father was dying, what would you have done? And you’re the one who went gung-ho running his empire and causing all the sanctions that meant we couldn’t come home anyway. You have only yourself to blame for being trapped there for so long. Don’t you dare put all of that on me.

 

“And I thought the real reason you left was to reclaim glory in the ring? We have power, we have fame, we have money already. I thought you wanted to escape to come back to wrestling to end your career the right way and cement your legacy? Or did I get that wrong?”

 

Erickson paused for a moment. “You’re right. I’m thrilled with the Warhammer deal and we’re going to make a ton of money but that’s not what this is all about. I wanted exactly what you said, to end my career the right way. And that starts with me coming back to fight Duke Kosloff.”

 

“Good, And unlike you, I actually watched Vanguard a couple of weeks back. This guy could cause you some real problems.”

 

“Oh come on, Stef. We’ve been through this before. I’m more experienced, I’m bigger, I’m stronger, I’m taller –“

 

“Not taller. He’s seven-foot-four, just like you.”

 

Erickson raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

 

“But you’ve got a hundred and fifty pounds on him. You’ve definitely got the strength advantage, and that’s something he won’t be used to. And one more thing that caught my eye… he’s from Moscow. And I don’t think he’s going to take well to someone who called his home country “the asshole of creation” when he came back to this side of the Atlantic. And to add to that, I watched the stuff he’s been saying online about you, Dylan. He’s cocky as hell and he just doesn’t want to beat you, he expects to beat you. But here’s the thing. He wants to beat you but he doesn’t even know who you are! What you’ve accomplished, what you’ve done! You have a legacy to protect, and it starts with beating this man at Vanguard. And I know you can do it.”

 

“Well,” Erickson said, “I guess I’ll just have to show him exactly who I am. That I’m not easy to beat, that I'm not a pushover, that I’m not old and worn down and past my prime, that I’m still the real fucking deal in this business. That’s going to be my job come Vanguard.”