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Thaddeus Duke · (02-16-2022)

Orlando International Airport || Orlando, Florida || 9:12 AM

With everything that’s been going on, like my focus on Fire & Ice against my father and my whirlwind romance with the former Lauren MacKay as well as her own focus on FIGHT’s Blood Money 2. Not to mention, Lauren’s mess she made with the New York underworld. What has sort of been lost in the shuffle is just how much I miss my children. As has been the case for the last several months, my kids split their time between me in New York and Liz in North Carolina. It’s really difficult to co-parent from nearly 500 miles away. Sometimes it’s two weeks, sometimes it’s a whole ass month. Two weeks I can tolerate. A month, I can not.

Things will change and Elizabeth will not be happy. There comes a time though, when you have to do what’s right, not necessarily what’s popular. On top of everything else, my kids have a new stepmother. On top of that, I’m fairly certain Lauren isn’t equipped for motherhood. She doesn’t have the mental make up to do it properly. To be honest, it weighs heavily on my mind. I’ve introduced this woman into a world she knows nothing about and I’m simultaneously asking her to play mom to three kids. Combine that with what happened with Brandon on my flight to Orlando… and it all weighs so much.

Hand in hand we walk from the car to the steps to board my 747. Living in New York this time of year makes me long so much for the warm summer days. Leaving Florida where it’s balmy 60 degree weather causes me to briefly rethink my life’s choices. I said briefly. Aside from the weather… and Corey... everything about this godforsaken place sucks.

With the door closing behind us, the engines start to wind up. Before we’re even seated, the pilot steers the plane toward the runway. After buckling in, Lauren grabs my arm and lays her head against my shoulder. Her left leg shakes back and forth nervously.

Blood Money is over.

She’s due in New York.

She owes a debt she can’t repay.

And we’re not going home.

It’s a dangerous game we’re playing. She’s nervous, scared. What she doesn’t know, is her husband.

Yet.

The plane increases speed down the runway, with the nose tilting upward and just after we’re wheels up, I place my hand on her leg, stopping her nervous twitch. ”Stop,” she says quietly as she flicks my hand away.

Sitting quietly as the airliner ascends higher into the heavens, I’m reminded of the conversation we had a night ago in the hotel. She told me everything. She told me about the bets and the bookies. She told me how much she lost and what she owes. She told me why she hesitates to accept my help.

She has a reputation of using others. She doesn’t like how it’ll look marrying a billionaire and getting out of debt. What I made her aware of, is that when you’re in debt to the mafia… there is no getting out of debt. They’ll demand one thing and the next. And on and on it goes until you’re so deep into it that the only way out… is death.

I can help her out of it.

The only way to get her out, is for her to go all in… and then take everything.

Finally… at long last she sees it my way, though it weighs heavily on her mind. So, I decided she needs a distraction. Something to take her mind off if it.

I have to tell her about Brandon and my flight from Iceland to Florida. I know what you’re thinking, well there’s a short lived marriage. For anyone else? Yeah, maybe. What we have isn’t typical and its borderline insane, but it works for us. We have an openness with one another. We have needs that have to be filled and sometimes we want to look elsewhere, just for the thrill of it.

It’s an open marriage… but with boundaries we both respect. If and when one of us breaks those boundaries, it’s not a fight. There’s no yelling and screaming. It’s a sincere apology accompanied by a hall pass.

DING!

Looking up at the board, the ‘fasten seatbelts’ light goes out. Immediately, I unbuckle myself and stand up.

”Where you going?” she asks, grabbing my hand with a death grip as I try to head toward the back of the plane.

”Just getting a drink,” I reply with a smile. ”You want something?”

”No,” she says quietly. ”Just stay with me.”

”We need to talk about something,” I begin while taking a seat across the aisle. It’s this moment that I change my mind about filling her in on my life… my entire life. With what she’s going through, added to what I’m about to tell her concerning Brandon, and the added pressure she’s facing with meeting my children and their mother… I think it’s best if I leave the ‘nuclear codes’ out of the equation for now.

Really…

...I don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s already nearing the breaking point as it is.

”Then talk,” she breaks into my thoughts.

”I’ve been looking for the right time to tell you this...”

”Tell me what?”

Suddenly, I’m lacking the courage.

”Thad?”

Well…

”What is it?”

Here goes nothin’.

”The other night on my flight to you. I had a conversation with Dick...”

”Who’s Dick?”

”Richard,” I clarify. Noticing the glazing over kind of look in her eye and ignoring it, I continue on. ”He’s not important. Anyway, Brandon was there and...”

”Wait, who’s Brandon?”

”Braden,” I clarify again… but also not really. No matter how many times she’s corrected, she continuously calls Brandon, Braden.

”Ohhh, the lil cutie.”

”Yeah… he’s cute… anyway...” I pause while I gather some thoughts. ”You know he and I… we uhhh… we used to...”

”Touch each others dicks? Yeah, you told me.”

Siiiiigh.

”Well...” my own nervousness starts to grow. ”After I got off the phone with his dad about my dad, he kinda… sorta… maybe… definitely kissed me.”

She looks at me but says nothing. There’s a gleam in her eye that I can’t put my finger on.

”Where?”

”Back in my… in my office,” I continue to stammer.

She rolls her eyes. ”I mean where did he kiss you, dip shit!?”

”OH! dumbass. ”Here,” I say while placing the tip of my finger against my cheek. ”And here...” I admit to her, pointing to my chin. ”And also here,” pointing to a cut above my left eyebrow.

”I see,” she says quietly.

Sadness.

True sadness.

That was the gleam in her eye.

”Do you love him?”

I think for a moment. I’m not sure why, because I’ve always known this answer.

”Yeah,” I admit to her.

”I mean like you love me, not like you love your friends...”

”I knew what you meant Lauren,” I interrupt. ”The answer is still the same.”

”Did you two...”

”He put it on the table,” I say to her with a shyness I don’t remember ever having.

”I see,” she says quietly, this time with a lower lip quiver.

”I told him no, because I’m a married man,” I elaborate further. ”He went to his room, I went into the hall… and I considered my options.”

”Pretty cut and dry Thad,” she cuts in. ”Either yes or no.”

”I didn’t do it,” I tell her with honesty. If you don’t know me, I’m a lot of things. A liar just isn’t one of them.

”I don’t know if I believe you,” she says, craning her neck to look at me.

”Yes you do,” I insist. ”Because believe me I fuckin’ wanted to.

“You have no idea just how fun he is.”

Lauren sighs and stands up. Taking a step or two toward me, she leans down hard to kiss me, bending me backward over the armrest.

CLICK!

Quickly, she runs off toward the back of the plane.

”Lauren wait!” I try to jump out of my seat only to realize she buckled me in. ”BRANDON!” I shout as loud as I can. ”SHE’S KNOWS!”

Just as I get myself free of the seatbelt, I hear a smack, a thump, and Brandon say: ”Oww SHIT!” Making it to his bedroom door, I stand back and just let things unfold.

”What gives you the right to kiss my husband!?” she yells while slapping him down into the corner. To be honest, I don’t think she expected him to answer.

”He looked tired!”

SMACK!

”Of course he was tired! He just had a brutal match with his 6 foot 9 ogre of a father!”

SMACK!

”He looked sad!”

SMACK!

SMACK!

”Of course he looked sad! He missed his beautiful wife!”

SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!

”Oww fuck! I’m sorry, I’M SORRY!”

”Lauren, he yields!” I joke.

SMACK!

”There’s something else he’s not telling you!” Brandon blurts out and immediately my heart sinks to my stomach.

”Brandon no!” she shoots me a look.

”What’s he not telling me?” she asks him, but looks at me with a look of betrayal in her eyes.

”Sorry Thad, I gotta,” he says while climbing to his feet.

”I wasn’t telling her yet, she has enough on her mind!”

”You’re a queen,” he says to her. Immediately she darts her head toward Brandon.

”I’m a what?”

”When you married Thad...”

”Fuck.”

”...you married a king and as such, now, YOU are the queen of the Illuminatus State.”

”Queen of the Luma-what?” she asks, looking at me.

”Illuminatus State,” I say with a sigh.

”Did I marry into some fucking suicide cult? Like Johnstown?”

”Jonestown.”

”Whatever.”

”NO… well yeah… actually no, it was kinda cult like in the early days but it isn’t now… so no… final answer...”

”Sorry,” Brandon chimes in while rubbing the back of his head.

”What the fuck is going on?” she asks in a kind of light hearted, but also kind of an incredulous type of way.

Reaching my hand out toward her, she hesitates, but grabs it with her own.

”I have some things to show you...”

Perplexed, and let’s face it, Lauren idles at a step above confused; she lets me lead her from Brandon’s room, right, down the hallway toward the secure Situation room. Coming to a stop, I sigh.

”We’re going in here?” she asks as I take a deep breath. ”You never let me in here.”

Placing my palm on the scanner, the door lock turns green granting passage. ”I never let anyone in here,” I inform her as I open the door. The lights switch on automatically as I lead Lauren inside. To the untrained eye, it just looks like a small conference room with an oblong table and several swivel chairs bolted to the floor.

”What is this?” she asks with her nose scrunching up.

”The Situation Room,” I answer her but it does nothing to alleviate her confusion. ”It’s like a command center. It’s sound proof and no one and nothing can penetrate the barriers.”

”Is this what’s in that room at home that you also never let anyone into?” she asks as she looks around at the nondescript walls. To her question, I just nod.

”Sit beside me,” I insist while taking a seat in the ‘big chair.’ Lauren takes her seat while I open up the laptop secured to the conference table in front of me. I can feel her looking at me with confusion and likely probably lust too. This is a lot to take in and she often will play herself really dumb when she’s trying to wrap her head around things.

She’s not stupid.

But she plays it very well.

After making a few selections, a 3D map of the entire planet pops up on the wall in front of us. Her attention is drawn toward the slowly spinning globe with lime green dots popping up in New York City, Connecticut, Rhode Island. A few scattered in the southern United States. Virginia Tate’s home near the Virginia border in North Carolina. The Mojave Desert. In Europe, a blip in Scotland. A trio of blips in Germany. Two in Poland. One in France. Three in Italy, including Vatican City.

”What am I looking at?” she inquires of me.

”Assets of the Illuminatus State,” I answer her. ”Or more appropriately, territory.”

”I’m not sure I’m following,” she admits.

”Some are homes, some are military bases. But to make a very long story short,” I begin to explain. ”What began as a small cult of just a few hundred men when my Grandfather was king...”

”King...” she clues in.

”Became a legitimized nation… without physical borders, of course. With a world population of roughly a quarter million people,” I continue on. ”After acquiring a military force from Uncle Theo, my dad and grandfather staged a coup in Germany in order to be closer to our primary target.”

”Who was the target?”

”The Catholic Church,” I answer quickly. She darts her head in my direction. In an almost parallel bit of history repeating itself, like my father, I too married a Catholic woman. Except in my case, I’m not murdering my wife.

”They don’t have an army,” she thinks aloud.

”That’s a little complicated,” I begin trying to explain. ”The premise of the war between the Illuminatus and the Church began due to my grandfathers claims that two thousand years ago, things were stolen from the original Illuminatus and the Church was formed.

“He may be right,” I pause. ”Or he just might have been a lunatic because I’ve never seen a shred of evidence to support his claims.

“Anyway, in the early days of the modern day Illuminatus, it was a shadow war. Before you ask what that is, it just means that small battles and murders were conducted between my people… and militarized followers of the Church.

“Once the coup in Germany took place though, it was impossible to keep the war in the shadows any longer.”

”So wait...” she thinks hard. ”You own Germany?”

”No,” I say with a bit of a laugh. ”At one time, we controlled Germany. It has since been returned to the German people.

“When I was 16 years old I was put at the head of the military. I trained to fight, I trained to shoot… trained to fly.

“While in Germany, assassins aimed their guns at my father, my grandfather… and me. My fathers right hand man took a bullet in the heart meant for my father. As German Chancellor, my grandfather went to the U.N. and placed the blame on the doorstep of Poland in league with the Vatican, which was a precursor for air raids.

“The reality is, that it was the Vatican and only the Vatican that pulled those triggers. Fact is, Poland was used as an elaborate training mission. With me at the helm of the military, we had Poland’s surrender in about a month...”

”So you used Poland as a scapegoat...”

”I didn’t know at the time,” I admit shamefully. ”Fresh off that victory, we set our sights on Vatican City and another war. Slowly but surely we beat back the Italian forces from their northern border all the way to Rome and on Christmas morning at the stroke of midnight, my military had a peace treaty with Italy signed and the Church abandoned the Vatican.

“That night, my grandfather died in his sleep making my father King of the Illuminatus State.”

”Thad,” she interrupts. ”I’m not sure I’m really understanding any of this.”

”It’s a lot to take in, I know,” I say to her apologetically.

”If you’re a king, where’s your castle?” she asks, causing me to chuckle.

”That ‘castle,’ as you call it… was destroyed last year but I’ll get to that,” I inform her before getting back to the Illuminatus State history lesson. ”My father is a paranoid man,” I continue on. ”Knowing how loyal the military was to me, he removed me from it, naming me the highest ranking diplomat.

“I was on an official trip in Scotland as Minister of State when ISIS staged an attack on some of our men. It was then that he acted on faulty intelligence and bombed a school in Iraq.

“That act set in motion a plot that made me king.”

”Where’s your crown?”

”Hanging on the back of the throne in what’s left of the Throne Room in Connecticut,” I answer her. ”To be honest, even talking about monarchs and thrones and crowns makes me uncomfortable,” I say to her. She looks up at me.

”It’s so archaic,” I say, she looks at me with her normal bewildered look. ”And really, all I’ve ever wanted to do was lead a normal life.”

”That doesn’t really seem possible for you,” she states matter-of-factly.

”It isn’t,” I say with a hint of sadness in my voice. ”Not truly knowing what my grandfather was back then, I fixated on not allowing my father to destroy what he’d built. Together with the military leaders, my father was relieved of his crown and that kicked off the Illuminatus civil war.

“Nine months later, my father was defeated and surrendered, legitimizing my claim as king.

“He was tried, convicted and promptly released provided he never tried to partake in Illuminatus activities again. That was my mistake.”

”So you’re the king of the Illuminatus State, a life you claim you don’t want,” she prefaces. ”Why not just...”

”Dissolve it? That wasn’t an option in the early days because I had hundreds of thousands of people that depended on me as their leader,” I answer quickly. ”I even tried to install true majority rule democracy once and in the first vote, democracy determined that absolute monarchy would be the governing way of life.

“I’d disband it now if I could,” I admit. ”But I’ve been fighting a war with a paramilitary turned terror organization known as the Ares Project for the last three years.”

”What the hell did you bring me into” she asks of me. ”Wars… kings… coups… Thad, this is...”

”A lot?”

She nods.

”Well we’re married now,” I pause. ”Whatever it is, it’s yours too, now.”

”Then my first order of business,” she says as she stands up and stares intensely at the map before returning her eyes to me. ”Let’s send a drone strike on Michelle’s house.”

Her ‘orders’ cause me to burst out in laughter. ”No we’re not blowing up your friends house.”

Michelle is Michelle Moore of FIGHT New York City. She is not a very good friend but the former Lauren MacKay, I think, is only now learning what friendship is. True friendship, not the bullshit mean girl high school friendship those two have. The aforementioned Mrs. Moore is famous for flaunting her wealth and privilege in Lauren’s face. And Lauren has largely just taken it out of… I don’t know what. I don’t pretend to know everything about her, but it seems to me that Lauren hasn’t ever had a real friend in her entire life.

That’s changed.

Michelle doesn’t have that power anymore.

The Riggs’, her pseudo family, as well-intentioned as they might have been, don’t have that power anymore.

The power doesn’t even lie with me. It lies with her. She has the world at her fingertips now and to be honest… that scares the shit out of me.

”Why the fuck not!?” she asks incredulously. ”I have all this power, let me use it!”

”It sounds cliché… but… with great power, comes great responsibility...”

”Did you just drop a Spider Man quote on me?”

Yes.

”No, I dropped a Winston Churchill quote on you.”

Also true.

”Lauren this isn’t make believe. It isn’t a movie… when bombs fall, people die. They had families and friends, hopes and dreams...”

”Yeah yeah yeah, can I bomb Michelle’s house or not?”

With a laugh, I shake my head.

”You know I’d die for you, right?”

”How ‘bout you don’t do that, k?”

”Point is,” I say with a smile before spinning the chair around. Behind me is what looks like a long cabinet with a counter top. Opening a panel revealing the keypad, I enter the unlock code.

”What the hell is that?”

”We work for different companies and that means there will be times when I’m not gonna be home to protect you,” I finish my thought from a moment ago as the counter top raises up and out of the way, revealing the small armory hidden within.

”Holy shit,” she thinks aloud. ”You could arm a small army.”

”Yeah that’s kinda the point,” I tell her while pulling out a Sig Sauer P320.

”Thad I’ve never even shot a gun before,” she says a bit worriedly.

”You don’t shoot it, you fire it… and we’ll work on that. In the meantime I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you kept this on you at all times.”

She smiles a moment as she takes the gun from my hand.

”Under NO circumstances are you to shoot Michelle,” I say with a laugh.

”Maaan!”

”Lauren, I’m serious,” I say as she starts to swing the gun around and pretend firing, causing me to duck once. Grabbing her arm, I stop her fun. ”Okay, this isn’t a toy. If you pull the trigger, someone gets badly hurt.”

”I know,” she says with a bit of a sigh. Suddenly, she lays the gun on the table and wraps her arms around me, laying her head against my chest.

”What’s this for?” I ask her with a smile.

”You love me,” she says quietly.

”Yeah well… it was an accident, I didn’t mean to,” I joke.

After closing up the locker, I spend a few minutes showing her different graphic pictures. This war, that war and the other, it’s all talk. So, I wanted to show her what war is. It’s not what you see on television or in the movies. There’s nothing fun about it. War sucks. It’s gruesome. And it smells bloody awful. But I need her to at least see what I’ve been through, what my people have been through.

Later, I showed her my finances. Besides myself, she’s the only person that knows my true net worth. It’ much greater than even I let on. To be honest, I think she still thinks a lot of this is all make believe and it’s all gonna crash down around her sooner rather than later. What she’s only now starting to realize is that she married a very powerful person. While I shy away from showing that particular side of me more often than not, it is very real. The threats are real. A threat to her is a threat to me so when it comes to the people she owes money to… the game has changed.

Even later still, we’re back in our seats as the 747 makes its final descent in North Carolina.

”So wait,” she interrupts my thoughts. ”If you are king and I am queen… then where the fuck is my crown?”

”I’ll have to have one made,” I say with a slight laugh.

”Didn’t your mom have a crown?”

”She was only queen for a short time,” I say quietly. ”We weren’t even established yet.”

She turns and stares at me. Hard. For an uncomfortably long moment.

”What?”

”I want a coronation.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Xavier Lux.

Centurion.

Thaddeus Duke.

One of those names is not like the others. Xavier Lux is a solid competitor no doubt, but he’s barely got his feet wet here in the XWF and he may or may not be struggling to adapt to our ways. Centurion is a man that’s been around for what seems like centuries and has himself in the Hall of Legends and has a resume longer than most grocery lists. What neither of them are, and what Raion Kido is going to find out on Warfare, is that neither of them are me.

I stand head and shoulders above both of those men. In fact I stand head and shoulders above most men and women that call this business ‘theirs’. Xavier Lux gave Kido a win. Centurion gave Kido his shot at the Television title. I have nothing to offer Kido, but experience. And experience is what you get, when you don’t get what you want.

The question is why? Why did I want this match in particular? Why did I want Kido versus Thad? Why did I want lion versus lion? The answer is simple: to teach Kido a lesson. It’s not a lesson in calling himself a lion and it’s not a lesson in ‘get off my block’ or ‘stay in your lane.’ This isn’t some ‘spot protecting’ challenge, either. My ‘spot’ is etched in stone and I bare no ill will toward Raion Kido. The fact is, he’s really very good at what he does and I’ll have a great time in the ring with him. The lesson I’m trying to teach him, is that not all competitors are created equal. Notching a couple of victories over notable competitors is a good way to lure oneself into a false confidence that can betray you at any time.

I’ve been there.

Many have before me.

Many have after me.

As I mentioned previously, losing to me rather than beating guys like Centurion or Lux, teaches you things if you’re willing to see the lesson within. I have always maintained that a loss will teach you more about yourself than any win ever will.

Early in my career, I had that opponent. James Raven. People all over this industry kiss his ass and call him the GOAT. So many... are just happy to share a ring with him.

What a lot of them don’t see is the opportunity to learn about themselves. Facing Raven exposed several flaws in my own game that I worked very hard to correct. I credit James quite a bit for making me the type of competitor that I am today. I’m not saying I’m the second coming of James Raven, but I am the first Thaddeus Duke.

That’s not so bad either.

Contrary to Raion’s own insinuations, this isn’t about me. It never was about me. It’s about him. It’s about elevating him even in a loss. He thinks that I’m trying to use him as a stepping stone to something else. I’m not. For the first time in over a year and half, I have no immediate future plans aside from hanging out with my Genesis brethren Mark Flynn and Corey Smith. Aside from screwing my wife and raising my children. Fact is, I have no goals left to accomplish so beating Kido, would do absolutely nothing for me. But beating Kido, does a lot for him.

While I have no intention of hanging up my gear any time soon, if it all ended today, I’m very content with how my career has transpired. I’m very… satisfied.

Raion Kido… here’s your first lesson in what it’s like to face an icon. Don’t cherry pick. While guys like Lux and Centurion may forego the opportunity to split someone in two instead of walking around them, I’m not that guy. If you’re going to cherry pick, I’m gonna take the cherries you didn’t pick and beat the fuck out of you with them.

Promo’s are only part of the story. But they’re not the whole story.

Case in point: Kido conveniently points out that I told anyone that’d listen that I’d expose Corey Smith at Bad Medicine. Yet he also conveniently neglects to mention that on Warfare after Bad Medicine, it was Corey apologizing to me for our rift, albeit as temporary as a rift as it was. It was also Corey Smith admitting that I had him beat and he wasn’t kicking out until that big dumb bastard showed his face. The win/loss tally might not reflect it, but when your opponent acknowledges you beat them, there’s really nothing left to be said on the matter.

You paint me as a ‘taker’? That’s where you’re gonna go? Pay attention just a little harder Raion. I’ve never taken a thing that I didn’t earn. While it’s true I have claimed that everything revolves around me, what you’re failing to see is context. Everything I have done previously, was about me.

It’s not about me right now.

It’s about you.

It’s about making damn sure you take that next step sooner rather than later because complacency is the achilles heel of any professional athlete. Stringing victory after victory together against those you’ve faced so far can be a negative rather than a positive. It fills you with a certain confidence and as the train rolls on for weeks or months, that confidence takes a solid smack when you’re faced with an opponent of a certain caliber that you’re not used to facing.

So, what may have been true even in my own recent past, like everything being about me, isn’t the case right now. I’m not here to kiss your ass or inflate your ego. We’re doin’ this match as a reality check. So when I beat you on Warfare, then you go on to Savage and beat the Nickelman for the Television strap…

I’m not coming after you for it.

You will use this loss you’re about to eat, to make yourself even better and that’s what this is all about. That’s what this has always been about. You thinking I have some ulterior motive, I understand it, but you’re wrong. My goal in seeking you out, my goal in having this match… has always been about you.

Wednesday Night Warfare is the Thaddeus Duke Show and Raion Kido, myself and all of the recently revived Duke Nation warmly welcome you as a guest star. Your star will continue to burn brighter and brighter, I have no doubt about that. Thing is, I’ve seen people come through those doors month after month, year after year, thinking they’re hot shit. Only to have their bubble burst by someone better than them. Only to walk right back out the door because they felt like they couldn’t hang.

I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.

I’m here for the gut check, not the glory.

Say you pull off the miracle upset… you won’t see angry Thad. You won’t see jealous Thad. You won’t see any embarrassment whatsoever, Raion. What you will see, is a satisfied opponent. What you will see, is me raising your hand in victory.

But it’s a lot easier to talk about beating me, than it is to actually do it.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Life, The Boy & The New Queen: RP #2
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