GRUNT
The family’s soldiers
They think three of them is enough.
Comes in numbers. Keep them all in front of you.
The Don sends eight kinds of men, and a new kind joins every second wave, and the wave after brings more of the same. Every one of them winds up before he strikes, and the wind-up is your warning, until the Baiter learns to fake it.
From wave 4 they come faster and more of them swing at once. From wave 6 they try to surround you, climbing onto whatever you are standing on. And they learn your habits. The story ends at wave 16, but the waves don’t: the cousins bring six kinds of their own.
The family’s soldiers
They think three of them is enough.
Comes in numbers. Keep them all in front of you.
The Ferraro kid and his runners
Fast. Don’t chase them, let them come.
Lunges from across the roof. Step aside, then punish.
Old-school enforcers with staffs
Get inside the staff. Papa’s men never learned to fight close.
Long reach, slow swing. Get inside it.
Sal “the Brick” and men like him
Don’t trade with Sal. Make him swing.
Light hits won’t stop his swing. Make him slam, then make him pay.
Lookouts on the high ground
They’re on the roof across. Throw it back.
Throws stones from far off. Punch one and it flies back.
The Navarro twins, the family’s cleaners
The Navarros don’t come to scare you.
The hardest hitter on the roof. Never trade blows.
The estate’s guards, in stab vests
They barely feel the small stuff. Hit them like you mean it.
Light hits glance off the vest. Charge one up, or go for the legs.
A club boxer the Don keeps on the door
He shows you a punch that never comes. Wait for the real one.
Winds up, then pulls back to draw your swing. Mix it up and he can’t read you.
Past the ending, the cousins bring their own men: a new kind every second wave, each with its rule under the banner.
The cousins’ men, who take the high ground
They want the high ground. Don’t let them keep it.
Holds the high ground and shoves you off it. Bring him down.
Street kids the cousins pay by the head
Kids, three at a time. One hit each.
Comes in threes, and one hit drops one. Turn and swing.
A cousin’s capo, shouting the others on
Hear the shouting? Shut him up first.
The men around him get braver. Drop the one shouting first.
A firebug from the docks with a satchel of bottles
Bottles. Don’t stand where they land.
Lobs bottles that set the ground alight. Take the air, or close in.
A fighter who has watched every tape of Teo
He’s watched your tapes, Teo. Do something new.
Copies what you do. Stop doing it.
A fighter who has watched the tapes too, and guesses what comes next
He knows what you’ll do next. So don’t.
Guesses your next move and has the answer ready. Change it.