Luca proposed that he and the gang should start manufacturing methamphetamine, which turned out to be a trap set by him to turn in the others. After fleeing to Los Angeles, he met with Matthew Toreno, a CIA agent with a short temper. Luca caused Toreno to storm out of the house without his briefcase. After getting possession of the briefcase, Luca used it as a ploy to blackmail the DEA agent he contacted earlier and the rest of the CIA. That in turn led to him being recruited by said Intelligence Agency, much to his surprise.

After a mission that left one agent dead and forced Luca to kill a longtime friend in Nari, he ODed on sleeping pills at some point during his walk. He then had a conversation with the supposed ghost of his now deceased friend, which he later credited to a hallucination.

He awoke in a hospital bed where he met Katrina Perry, the nurse who was checking on him when he awoke. After a brief conversation, he had gathered that she was a struggling cocaine addict not much unlike himself.






Staring up at the lights while laying motionless in a hospital bed wasn't exactly how Luca envisioned spending his Sunday. No longer blinding, the light quickly became the only thing Luca could really pay attention to. Katrina left and was replaced by a doctor who went on a spiel about how lucky he was to be alive which Luca tuned out a few words in.

The door opens and in steps Catherine and Jackson, looking just as rough as Luca did. Doctor whatever the fuck stands up and talks to the two, still to the complete disinterest of the man in the bed. His ears perk up however, when Catherine begins to talk to the doctor.

"Listen doc, I really don't care. He's part of the CIA and as such we need him to be released immediately into our custody."

Doctor: "He was found with cocaine in his system, I need to alert the authorities!"

"We are the authorities! He was held hostage and drugged, doctor."

"I don't believe your story, he never said anything about being drugged."

"He's so out of it he doesn't know where he is, you nitwit! He was found face down on a dirt road a mile or so from where we were, if that doesn't scream out of it to you, you shouldn't have a fucking medical license, doctor."

"I don't think he should be leaving the-"

Jackson steps up and clocks the man square in jaw, sending him to the floor in a heap as Catherine begins unhooking Luca from the machines. Jackson picks Luca up, but he struggles noting that he's capable of running.

Luca finds his clothes in a heap on the floor next to the bed and decides to hurriedly get dressed. When he's all dressed, his shirt is on inside out and backwards, and his back pockets are now his front pockets.

The three rush out of the room and walk down the hall calmly on their way to the exit. No one seems to notice how Luca's dressed in the sea of injured and sick patients waiting in the lobby.

Luca decides to break the silence they were walking in by asking them the one thing he had been wondering since he woke up:

"How did you guys get rid of the weed?"

"Not all of what was in those gas canisters was acid."

Luca couldn't help but smile at that as they walked out of the hospital and escaped scot free.





The big black van the agents arrived in is still where they remain as traffic proves itself to be a major bitch. Looking out the window, Luca can see three lovely different shades of smog. Then, deciding that as interesting as watching smog is, that there was something more important to do.

"So, will the cartel come after us or something? Y'know, so I can plan that they may try to slit my throat while I'm asleep."

"Don't worry about it, none of that even seemed like a CIA operation, they'll probably think it was another cartel."

"I wouldn't be so sure, they have a damn sixth sense for feds sniffing in their business."

"Oh, and how do you know that?"

"What, do you guys just forget everything about my past?"

"Well Luca, fucking spics aren't that bri-"

Then, from out of nowhere, a second large black van crashes into the back side of the one Luca and the others are in, sending it spiraling out of control until it smashes into another car.

"Fuck!"

From out of the second van steps six armed men, anger flaring in each pair of their eyes. They open fire on the side of the van as Luca scrambles to toss weapons to the others. He spots a bulletproof vest and slips it on over his clothes in haste.

The other two hop into the back of the van and pull open the panel door. Jackson steps out first, followed closely by Luca and Catherine. The three run off in opposite directions, prompting the men to waste bullets firing at all three of them and hitting none.

Luca slides behind a car and takes a few shots, hitting one of the men in the leg and causing him to fall, unable to hold his weight evenly on the other. Ducking back behind the car, he can hear the gunfire roaring around him as if he were an extra in an old war movie. Looking back up one more time, he sees that two of the men lay dead and the one he shot was crawling to safety.

Another roar of gunfire from the two on his side and two others go down in a fountain of their own blood. Jackson and Catherine rush after the wounded man that Luca shot in an attempt to arrest him. That leaves him, and the last guy on the opposite side.

Where was the guy on the opposite side?

Luca steps out into the open space between the two vans, the area where four died at already. The blood enough to fill a small pond, the look of pain on the dead bodies' faces. Just then, something grabs him from behind and throws him backwards.

Found the last guy.

He stands over the fallen Luca, the barrel of his AK 47 pressed against his chest.

Gunman: "Say good night, you fucking federales!"

A shine of the headlights leaves the man like a deer as he raises his rifle at the source. His head turns just in time to see a car smash into his body, driving him forward and away from Luca.

"Holy shit! I tired to warn him!"

Stepping out of the car is a woman who Luca recognizes.

Katrina.


The scene opens to Katrina and Luca sitting in a gray panel van. A mannequin is duct taped to one of the seats. They take turns mock slapping around the mannequin in the same way Punk's been slapping around Luke Gallows his glorified mannequin.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am CM Punk. I'm the king of backhanded compliments and uninteresting insults. I like to masquerade as a man without a plan who just follows the pattern of the wind, but everything I do is too contrived to make that statement true!"

Luca punches the mannequin in the face.

"Come on Gallows! Squeal!

Oh, I apologize, I was just beating Gallows like an overseer would abuse the slaves left in his 'care'. I don't need the money, I'll just send it over to Luca's slut of a girlfriend because that's a smart comment to make.

I give less of a fuck than Luca despite the fact that Luca's all I can seem to talk about, because I'm secretly obsessed with him. I also can't prove any of my accusations about him stating the same thing he called me on when I said I respected him."

Luca and Katrina remove the duct tape from the mannequin and toss it out of the van, it's body breaking upon impact.

"You see Punk, I can prove a point very well. Much more so than you can when I really want to. For example, I can prove that you said you respected me with the little spiel you went on here: http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=3062

Where's your proof that I said anything of the sort about you? The last thing I even said about you prior to being booked in this match is that you were an easy opponent and a fucking loser. So try again, you fucking ingrate.

Oh, and all of the equations, formulas, inequalities about how I don't give a fuck are only there for people who do give a fuck, like you and John Austin and all of the busy bodies on the Madness roster to calculate how little of a fuck I actually give.

Whether or not you want to talk with me about our match, I did find something interesting about your spiel. You wanting to fuck with Heyman too. One step at a time, Punk. This match comes first.

We'll have business to discuss when the time is right.

Until then, stick to being the embarrassment that somehow is the second best Madness has got.

...You see, I do you better than you can do yourself."