NOVEL FROG CHAPTER 29: Big Fish
John made a mental note to fire a quick message to Atlas. The plan was in motion, and now it was just a matter of time before they’d see who among their ranks would bite at the bait Barry had dangled in front of them.
To ensure his plan went off without a hitch, Atlas scheduled a mandatory vacation for all his fighters—a completely non-negotiable, two-day break. He told them it for them to rest and relax. He booked a restaurant for them on the first night, making sure there was plenty of booze, and encouraged them to hang out and enjoy themselves. Atlas hoped that the combination of alcohol, relaxation, and camaraderie would loosen tongues. Atlas and Alicia, of course, conveniently couldn’t make it to the restaurant, leaving the fighters to their own devices.
As expected, the conversation inevitably during dinner, turned to the Sword and Iron deal. “It’s serious,” Igor said, lowering his voice but not enough to keep others from overhearing. “$2,000 a month. I’ve already signed the contract. I leave tomorrow.” Downing a shot of vodka, he gave them a look implying *that’s what a real man would do.*
“What?” Mel said, shocked. “For real?”
“Yes,” Igor confirmed. “Same commission too, and $2,000 a month.”
“Wow, that’s a great deal,” Mel said, visibly impressed. *That’s a lot of diaper money!*
Brent chimed in, “Do they do any of that crazy portal stuff? I just want to hit things. All those mind games are garbage. Who gives a shit about blue fairies or mental training? All you gotta do is bench more and hit faster. Bunch of knobs.”
Wilfredo hesitated. “I don’t know, guys. I like Atlas. I think he’s going to be number one. I’m sticking with his training methods.” A couple of others around the table agreed.
“We’ll see,” Igor said, feeling the pressure mount. He had promised Barry and Mohammed that he could bring at least a couple of guys with him. That’s how he secured his low 3% fee, as opposed to the usual 10% for others.
As the evening wore on and more vodka was consumed, Igor’s nervousness grew. He needed to deliver on his promise, or risk losing his deal. “Hey guys,” Igor said to Mel and Brent, who seemed the most interested in the $2,000, “why don’t we go see Sword and Iron? It’s not far from here.”
Atlas, of course, had strategically booked a restro-bar within walking distance of Sword and Iron’s headquarters. Fueled by alcohol and curiosity, Mel and Brent agreed.
Igor quickly fired off a text message to Barry, who immediately ran up the stairs to inform Mohammed. “Mohammed, we’ve got ourselves two more,” Barry said, excitement in his voice.
“Oh, that’s great,” Mohammed replied, his Lebanese accent thick with satisfaction. “If we can get two more off their main team, that’s fantastic. SFB has been on my case, asking why we haven’t been doing better on social media. They’re wondering why everyone’s looking at this tiny gym instead of us. We’re last year’s champs, but we aren’t performing as well according to them. If I can get two more, it’ll definitely get them off my back. For at least a little while.”
***
Mel and Brent, drunk and lured by the promise of more money, walked up the stairs into the Sword and Iron offices.
They were easily swayed by Mohammed's smooth talk. He played up the benefits, making sure to gloss over any fine print.
“Come on, guys. You would be a real Ibn al Kalb if you turned down $2,000 for $700!”
The two fighters looked at each other, confused. They didn’t know what an Ibn al Kalb was, but it probably meant dumbass.
They signed on the dotted line with the help of another shot of vodka, they had brought the bottle with them, not realizing the trap they were walking into.
Once the ink was dry, Mohammed’s demeanor shifted. “Welcome to Sword and Iron,” he said with a slick smile. “Now, about your fees...”
“What about them?” Brent asked, suddenly wary.
*Wait. WTF? Igor already said the deal was the same as their old gym. That’s why I hadn’t looked at the contract. Reading was dull.*
“Well, since you’re new to the main team, there are a few adjustments,” Mohammed said, sliding the contract across the table. “You’ll still get your $2,000, of course. As for the fee, it’s standard practice here to start at 10% for the first year. After that, we can discuss decreases in what we charge, depending on your performance.”
“10%?” Mel frowned. “I thought it was 3%.”
He could see the diaper money flying away, and his wife giving him the look.
“Oh, that’s for senior members,” Mohammed replied smoothly. “You’re just starting out. But don’t worry, with your skills, I’m sure you’ll move up quickly. And there are a few other minor things to pay attention to…..”
He tapped on a clause buried in the text.
“Like this one here—reduced compensation for losses. Just a little something to keep everyone motivated.”
*I wasn’t thinking of losing, but reducing my pay if I do lose? That doesn’t sound right.* Mel was getting more and more of a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Igor watched from the sidelines, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He had known all along that Mohammed would pull something like this, but it wasn’t his problem. He had his 3%, and as long as he delivered bodies, his contract was secure.
Mel and Brent exchanged uneasy glances but, intoxicated and pressured by the slick-talking Mohammed, they reluctantly agreed. They were now part of Sword and Iron, but the deal didn’t sound so great anymore.
---
Back at the gym, Atlas was pacing. He had expected something like this, but the confirmation still stung. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “I knew some people would go for it.” He had hoped that the contracts he had people sign and his speeches about loyalty and trust would have kept everyone on the team. He knew they hadn’t had a lot of time to form their bonds yet, but still, he had hoped.
John, leaning against the wall, watched his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Atlas, I don’t get it. Why all the worries about a couple of fighters getting poached?”
Atlas stopped pacing and looked at John. “I don’t care if they get poached here on Earth. It’s just annoying that my speeches and training didn’t outweigh the lure of quick cash.”
John said, “Well, like you said, Atlas, it hasn't been that long. It takes a while for trust to form.”
“You’re right,” said Atlas. “But still, a guy can have hope, right?”
John continued, “And do they even need to have full, 100% undying loyalty in the future? They’re here to do their job, and that’s the fight.”
Atlas said, “That’s what I’m trying to prevent from happening. I want people with 100% commitment. Because in the wasteland, when the portals open and suck people in, that trust is going to be all that we can depend on.”
Atlas continued, “My first time through the portal, one of the tricks Clark liked to play was secretly poaching residents. Those traitors would then open the gates at night, letting us in to take it over. And those takeovers weren’t pretty. If I can prevent the type of person from ever joining up, I’m a step ahead. Clark is a slimy weasel, but last time we were on the same side. This time? It’ll definitely be a fight.”
John started thinking *This portal game might not be such a game after all.*
Atlas’s voice snapped him back to reality. “I don’t want any weak links, John. Not in this gym, and definitely not in the wasteland. I’m trying to prevent people who would leave for easy money from ever getting on my team.”
John nodded slowly. “Makes sense. But what’s our next move?”
“Simple,” Atlas said, a grim smile forming on his lips. “We keep our eye out on who’s loyal and who’s not.”
Atlas fired off a message to Lily. It was time to start prepping the team for a more intense round of portal simulation training.
***
The next morning, as Atlas walked into the gym, he noticed a few fighters hanging around, their expressions uneasy. It didn’t take long for Igor, Brent and Mel to approach him.
“Hey, coach,” Igor said, trying to sound casual. “Just wanted to let you know we’re leaving. Got a better offer.”
Atlas crossed his arms and stared him down. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Igor continued, his grin faltering under Atlas’s intense gaze. “$2,000 a month, plus low fees. Can’t say no to that, right?”
Atlas nodded slowly. “You’re right, Igor. That’s a lot of money. But let me ask you this—what’s your fee?”
Igor hesitated, the grin finally fading. “Uh, 3%.”
Brent and Mel were pissed that Igor had gotten the 3% for signing up first.
Atlas’s expression hardened. “You left your team for 3%?”
Igor’s bravado crumbled under Atlas’s glare. “Look, man, it’s just business. You know how it is.”
“No, Igor,” Atlas said, his voice cold. “It’s not just business. It’s loyalty. It’s trust. And you just threw all of that away for a few extra bucks.”
Igor’s face flushed with anger. “Well, good luck, Atlas. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Yeah,” Atlas replied, his tone icy. “You will.”
As the three men walked away, Atlas turned to John, who had been watching the exchange. “Make sure the rest of the team knows what happened here today. I don’t want any more surprises.”
John nodded. “Consider it done.”
***
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