"Yeah, I am good." Rico answered as he looked down at the unconscious Killer Croc. It would seem that they have been injecting a cocktail of drugs into the scaly human. He had grown a tail and grotesque muscles.
At the moment Rico was talking to Edgelady through the phone. "Good, because I was surprised when we were told you died. What happened?" She asked as he could clearly make out the clacking of her keyboard. She was probably double tasking again.
"I was brought to the Gotham Underground. It is apparently where the normal criminals of Gotham have retreated to. They do all manner of business down here. But do not hint at its existence in the open. We could sell this information for a hefty profit." Rico explained as he looked down at Killer Croc who he had knocked out by slamming his head into the metal door. He had then checked the room for listening devices and cameras. After confirming there were none he had pulled out his phone and called his still too small mercenary group which only consisted of six people.
"Who are we going to sell it to? If I recall you did not want to get involved with the costumed suit crowd." Edgelady pointed out. "Which reminds me our first job is going well. But we do need manpower. Can you see if you can find some more people while you are down there. At this point that might be the only thing you are good for."
"Sure I can start doing that." Rico answered as he nodded. "You can approach Batman and sell it to him. He has deep pockets. Just use the old number for Red Hood. He used to be Batman's sidekick."
"Understood. Are there any other orders for us?" Edgelady asked.
"No, just keep doing jobs and repairing our new places." Rico answered before getting a confirmation followed by her hanging up. He put the phone back in his inventory while he looked down at the unconscious Killer Croc. "Now what should we do about this?"
The metal door suddenly creaked and groaned as several locks were turned. Then a hatch squeaked open and a pair of eyes looked in. Rico walked toward the door and looked the person outside right in the eyes. "You mind throwing in two sets of food? I am sure Croc will be hungry when he wakes up."
The Russian cursed in surprise before the hatch closed. Then a moment later it opened and two metal boxes were thrown in. He opened one up and sighed at the sight of raw slab of meat that was inside. He set it to the side and opened the other one, it had some bread and a cup of soup. It was clear that the bread and soup was for him while the raw meat was for Killer Croc.
They were treating him like an animal. Which might fit his current description but he could use their cruel treatment of him to his advantage. He looked around the room for a few minutes. Finding that one of the few objects in the room, a destroyed bench was made of wood. He stacked the pile up near the door and then used the taser baton on the wood several times until it caught fire.
Once it was on fire he set the slab of meat in the metal tray on fire. Let it heat up the meat until it is completely cooked. Then he moved a bit back and ate his bread and soup. After a few minutes of the smoke escaping through a crack in the door the hatch opened up again and the person on the other side coughed and reeled back in surprise.
They cursed in Russian before yelling through the slot. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Cooking the meat." Rico answered as he stepped forward and flipped it over now that it had been thoroughly cooked on one side. "Hey Jones, I know you are awake. Your food is also ready. Are you going to attack me again or are we going to be good?"
There was a growl followed by his answer, "we are good." His voice was deep as he answered.
"Hey! Did you hear me! Put out that fire!" The Russian yelled. When Rico ignored him his hand came through the slot with an open water bottle intent on putting out the fire. But Rico just reached forward and snapped his wrist while he pulled the water bottle out of his hand. "Aaahh!"
He screamed in pain while Rico backed up and held the water bottle out to Waylon Jones. The infamous Killer Croc shifted forward and took the bottle out of his hand then began downing the water. "So, is there a reason the Russians are treating you so badly?" Rico asked as looked over at Waylon.
"No," He growled out angrily for a moment but then he relaxed, "everyone treats me that way." He answered normally after a moment. "But why do you not do stuff like that to me?"
"Because I treat people like people." Rico answered as he pulled the meat up and handed it to Waylon who grabbed it and tore into it savagely. It was probably more of a habit than how he actually ate. After a few minutes he stomped out the fire. "How often do we go into the arena?"
"Every few days. But there are private fights they have us do under the arena as well. Or we might just go mining, it is up to our owner." Waylon answered.
Rico nodded his head. The slot on the metal door slammed closed. "I suppose we will know soon enough." After a few minutes he thought of something. "Tell me a bit about yourself, Waylon."
----------------
want more? p.atreon.com/Platwolf