Chapter 1: A Fortress’ Funeral

Fade in:

A desert city Bazaar – early morning

It is dawn in a desert city that has one tower stand out above the buildings, as traders and retail vendors set up shop for a day of bartering. One man’s silhouette stands out as he smokes a cigarette in the alley.

Zoom to:

Desecration at the Bazaar

A man leans against an alley wall rolling a cigarette. A woman, elegantly dressed among the commoners, garners the man’s attention as she boastfully shops during the morning’s heat.

As the woman visits shops closer to the man, the man begins to talk to himself.


Shame there wasn’t a mistress.

The man quickly turns the corner, calmly and smoothly grabs the woman by the hair as she begins to scream. As her wails pierce the stale morning air of the bazaar, the man drags the woman toward the tower fixated in the center of the city and throws her to the ground in front of the tower’s front doors, alarming the security guards and creating a nervous panic as they stumble about how to approach this situation.

Inside the tower, at a conference table

A man, sitting at the head of a long conference table for a board meeting surrounded by dozens of , stands up from the head of the table and angrily walks to the window as the shrieks from outside are becoming too intense to continue the meeting through.

Upon viewing the scene outside, his face contorts in horror.

The man slams the window with both clenched fists while letting out a boisterous scream at the top of his lungs.

The man outside, with one hand firmly clenching the woman’s hair and his other hand resting on her shoulder with a loaded .45 caliber hand gun making a home in his hand, makes eye contact with the yelling office manager, just before he slowly points the gun at the woman’s head.

[[Close up on the woman’s head as the bullet goes through.]]

The man, now stained in the woman’s blood, calmly walks away from the tower.

Inside the tower, the man leaves the window, grabs a large revolver off of the conference table, and sprints out of the room, passing numerous guards.

Guard 1

Sir! Let us handle this! Boss doesn’t want you getting your hands dirty any more!


NO!! This son of a bitch is mine!

The man runs past the dead woman in the street as a pool of blood spreads around her. The furious businessman sprints round a corner off in the distance.


There is nowhere you can run where I won’t find you!

[[Close up on the murderer as he kneels with his hands in the dirt]]


Oh, I’m counting on it.

Sprinter rounds the corner, to sees ZekeĀ sitting in a folding chair.


What type of deranged, suicidal man starts a war with the Noches Boys?! What psycho shoots the wife of Sprinter, the baddest runner in New Tex, in front of his own building? You WANT to die?!

Sprinter is walking towards the folding chair while yelling at Zeke. As he plants a foot to the ground, a bear trap snaps around his ankle and Sprinter drops his weapon and screams in agony.

Zeke rises from his chair and walks over to Sprinter, who is staring at him terrified.


Why?! You want to kill yourself by trying to ransom me, fine, your funeral. But why?! Why shoot my wife?

ZekeĀ tosses a piece of paper at him. Sprinter picks it up to see his face on the sign reading “Ben ‘Sprinter’ Carmichael; 50 gallons of gas reward; Issued by Los Sabuesos Noche.


She has no value. You do.