Hard Case VII - Red Waves (John Harding Series Book 7) (15 page)

“Move along, Betty,” Lynn ordered. “You’re beginning to bore me.”

Juthamah turned his attention to Lynn while walking toward the cage with his retinue. “I choke you out after I finish with sissy-boy.”

Lynn danced around clapping her hands in appreciation of Juthamah’s parting shot. “Oh… good one… Betty. If there’s anything left of you, I’ll be waiting. If you’re lucky, honey, your caretakers might be able to wheel you out into the sunlight and water you a couple times a day.”

Although very frightened of the giant Albanian, the crowd hooted and hollered at him as Lynn aced the big dog. It occurred to me I might actually have a small fan base. Lynn returned, obviously pleased with her performance.

“I warmed Betty up for you, Cheese. We’ll be watching for your plan of attack. I don’t think you’ll need worry about having to chase him around the cage.”

I walked toward the cage with my entourage of killers. “You definitely got him in the mood. We thrilled once again watching your surgical skill in action.”

“Yeah, babe,” Clint agreed. “You barely broke the skin. Your touch is impeccable. Veronica may be able to let it scab over. I thought with the speed you had on the down stroke that arm wouldn’t be good for much else other than hanging at his side.”

“Practice, practice, practice,” Lynn replied. “Those clowns Betty and his handler brought along look like run of the mill thugs, but maybe we should have disarmed them, Cheese. We’ll be watching them near the cage. The politicos won’t like it one bit if we have to send a few of them to the happy hunting ground.”

“I’ll talk to Alexi. Maybe it is time to put in metal detectors, and check weapons at the door,” I told her. “These Albanians would probably have started a war at the entrance. The collateral damage would have shut Alexi down for quite a while I think. It’s also possible we’ll have to exterminate the Albanians. I overheard a couple of them talking in Arabic rather than the Albanian Tosk or Gheg dialects. They mostly blurted insults they didn’t think anyone would understand.”

“Really? What the hell did they say about me?” Lynn’s brows knitted when demanding an answer, looking at Clint, who also knew the language.

“They didn’t say shit after your surgical demo, babe. Don’t worry about it. Like John said, we’ll probably have to kill them all anyway.”

“I don’t like to start talking shop before an Oaktown Cartel match, but maybe we better take Alexi’s guests with us. I wonder if he shipped the one John damaged,” Denny said.

Tommy and I climbed the steps toward the cage entrance with Jess, Dev, and Jafar waiting. They were my corner team. I never broke with habit. When something works, don’t fix it. “If I know Alexi, he had his ring doctor do the honors on Blondie. I bet he senses something off about the attempted assassination of the beloved Cheeseburger.”

“Once we see how the Albanian crew takes this match, we’ll make a decision later. I’m leaning toward caution in that we have a big deal going already we don’t want compromised.”

“Agreed, Den.” I entered to my smiling faced crew with a quiet Tommy. “Hi guys, the Albanian Nightmare looks rather subdued. Didn’t he flex or dance around when he got in the cage?”

“He flexed for a while with a bellow, but got booed,” Jess said.

“I think the crowd hurt his feelings,” Dev joked. “He’s been standing there staring at us like the ogre under the bridge you keep referring to yourself as. I hate to say this DL, but I believe he has the corner on the ogre look market.”

I smiled and waved at the new ogre champion. “I believe you’re right, Dev. Something’s amiss in ogre land.”

“Hey, T!” Jess bumped the silent Tommy. “Who shot your dog?”

“He is worried. I can tell,” Jafar stated, waving his hand and peering into Tommy’s face.

Tommy batted away Jafar’s hand. “I’m not worried about the ogre. I’m thinking about pirate attack battles and port assaults.”

Dev moved on him before I could. “Shut the fuck up, T. That’s Monster business. We don’t talk Monster business here.”

Tommy nodded. “Sorry. That was stupid. Go bust this chump, DL. The YouTube video will have the fans screaming for a Rock/Hard Case match. Anyone else think it’s odd Al Jazeera decided to stream an off the circuit fight like this?”

“That’s what has Denny’s mind spinning too along with the assassination attempt,” I replied. “Dev’s right, T. No more talk of anything other than the fight game and the Albanian wankers. I see you’re streaming, Achmed. How’s your viewing, Pappy?”

“Real good. Achmed doesn’t do those herky-jerky video streams. I’m betting I have company towards the end of the fight.”

“Agreed.” I gestured at Jack Korlos I was ready when he asked. “Weapons free, Pappy. Shoot first and let God sort them out later.”

Lucas chuckled. “I’ll be discriminating.”

Chapter Six

End of Nightmare

I pulled out my earwig and handed it to Jafar. My corner and Juthamah’s left the cage. Jack repeated the ready question, got a wave from me, and a flex from the ogre.

“Get to it!” Jack started us.

The ogre of course bull rushed me. I grinned, crouching while stepping aside at the last second, and tripped him. He flew head first into the cage from his momentum. Oh my, did the crowd howl at that one. I didn’t follow him down to pound his head in. Jack let his hands drop to his sides, shaking his head as he began to understand this wasn’t going to be a match. The ogre spit blood, lumbered to his feet with the rage of an idiot with no concept of what was coming. He tucked his hands in a fighting position as if that would help. Before he could get into a position to throw a punch, I nailed him with a roundhouse pile-driver left foot kick to his right bicep so good his arm dropped numb to his side.

I chuckled at the stunned look on the ogre’s face and did the same to his left bicep with the same results. For one split second moment, the ogre stared at me, unable to move his arms. I danced around, shooting a few quick jabs short of his face to let him know I could have lacerated his face with a tornado of blows. Then I did the unthinkable as feeling began to seep into his arms. I hit his right musclebound thigh with one of my bone breaking smashes so hard the ogre collapsed on his butt. I backed off with a grin.

“Whenever you’re ready, Betty.”

That of course triggered Cruella Deville. She ran to the cage, jumped on the chain links and screamed for war. “Betty! What the hell? Are you going to let that piss-ant Cheeseburger do you like this?! I’m ashamed of you! What about you choking me out after the match? It doesn’t look like you could choke your chicken when Cheese gets done with you. Do something, for God’s sake! Roll over to your side and flap your wings, you chicken shit bastard!”

One of the Albanian crew ran over to pluck Crue off the links while she was screaming at the ogre. Clint met him calmly before simply smashing a right hand strike to his face. Whoops. That guy’s nose bone just met with his brain. Luckily, Alexi’s security detail was up to speed for the night. They moved on the dead man, removing him before even a murmur spread through the crowd. Clint came over to the cage with a sigh, patting his beloved’s back.

“C’mon down, babe. Betty’s quite content to sit on his ass for the time being.”

Lynn frowned down but released the links. She kept her position near the cage though. “Cheese? Do the Dark Lord or something. The damn Juthamah ain’t even budging. Embarrass the asshole. Go give him a kiss on the cheek or something. Maybe he’s gay and needs a hug. Do something!”

Between Clint’s Albanian adjustment and Lynn’s zingers I admit to being a bit preoccupied with amusement. The ogre was pissed. He rolled in both directions before managing to attain his feet. Amusement, catcalls, and sarcastic insults met him as he straightened. I’ve faced many killers before. We don’t take our singular calling for granted. Most of us only live a short time. Once you’ve chosen the calling for whatever reason, when we confront our end, we root hog or die. The ogre, to his credit, realized this match heralded the end of his being Juthamah. He decided to go with hope instead of taking a knee. Juthamah bellowed, which hushed the crowd, but provoked unrestrained laughter from my crew.

He cautiously came forward in his idea of a fight. This guy fought underground matches where his opponents didn’t understand tactical facts about his physique. The guy was monstrous to look at. If Juthamah could beat me with poses he’d be dancing around with his hands in the air already. His adversaries in the cage took one look at him and they grew cautious. One of those guys he killed probably could have ended Juthamah before he ever arrived here. Through intimidation, appearance, and bluster, the fake nightmare that wouldn’t give a three year old a waking moment, managed to get hands on a throat. Then, he’d be in his element. Suddenly, I had a thought so outrageous, I knew Tommy was going to pass out cursing me. I remembered reading an old Conan the Barbarian, Savage Sword of Conan magazine. In the story, Conan comes to grips with a behemoth strangler named Baal-pteor. They latch onto each other’s throats. Conan’s adversary had threatened the barbarian with how he had been raised to kill with his bare hands, strangling with ease everyone within his grasp. Conan grinned and choked Baal-pteor out in savage fashion. I decided I didn’t need a workout after all. I planned to make my own pulp fiction comic book with Juthamah playing the role of Baal-pteor while I choked him out as Conan the Barbarian. Heh…heh… yep, sometimes the killer inside needs sustenance.

I prodded him, dropping my hands to my sides. “Hey, Betty, you’re not good for much else other than choking some poor dweeb. Let’s make this a match. No one wants to see you get your arms blasted into nothingness like me and my partner thought about doing at first. You’re so pathetic I’ve decided to give you a go at doing what you do best – squeezing. C’mon, Juthamah. Have a go… you big pussy!”

I stuck my head out, making sure I didn’t allow him cheap shots at the rest of my body, which wouldn’t have worked out for him anyway. I would have killed the big boil on society’s ass in a heartbeat. This was the only way I’d get the poser to do anything entertaining. “Latch on, Betty, and let’s have us a choke down.”

Juthamah bellowed again in comical hope. He loved this angle. He believed once he got his hands around my neck I was his. I allowed him to pitch forward with false hope in his eyes. Oh yeah, baby, the ogre placed paws on me to maim and kill. He felt the burn. Then, he felt the corded muscle his fingers couldn’t make a dent in. When I matter-of-factly wound my fingers around his neck his eyes widened with surprise. Then I started to squeeze. The crowd quieted to a hush as Juthamah and I latched onto each other in the center of the octagon with a very upset Jack Korlos watching worriedly. I didn’t think Jack would sap me, but I wasn’t completely sure. I noticed with the crowd silence I could hear Tommy cursing me out. I stretched the moment past mercy, rage, phantoms from the past, and probably good taste.

Juthamah’s eyes began to bulge under my incremental pressure increases. Then he panicked, releasing my neck and grabbing my wrists, hoping to tear them away from his neck. When that didn’t work, he tried to kick at me with those muscle bound legs of his. I blocked his pathetic attempts and stomped his instep. That ended his kicking attempts but also my choke out. I’m damn strong. Unfortunately, I’m not strong enough to hold up over three hundred pounds of collapsing lard. I could have followed him to the mat. Instead, I let him drop while backing away slightly. Jack watched me, thinking I would kick Juthamah’s head in. I didn’t. I let him writhe around trying to both suck wind and massage his bruised instep.

Although this was inside the octagon rather than out on the street, we were fighting under street rules. We fight until one of us taps out, or gets knocked out. Jack refereed to try and make sure there were no deaths. The instep kick ruined my Conan the Barbarian moment. I decided if Juthamah regained his feet, I’d go back to the original plan. His handlers screamed bloody murder, trying to get the ogre standing. They figured I’d drop down to finish their fighter off – not going to happen. The ogre, sweating heavily, rolled onto his knees finally with Crue insulting him in nonstop fury. Tommy quit yelling at me so that was a plus. Juthamah made it to his feet, shaking off the dizziness being without breath for a long time causes.

“Don’t kill him, kid,” Jack whispered to me. “I don’t know what this is all about, but I can’t have you killing anyone else in my cage.”

I nodded. I would have to settle the threats later, but mistakes happen. “Okay, Jack.”

Juthamah raised his fists after a long look over at his enraged handlers. I saw him trying to pump some ogre anger into his reluctant body while I waited patiently. He certainly didn’t want to get into another choke match. I think I made him see old Smokey for a moment. With muscle bound jabs pawing to keep me away, my opponent moved closer, cringing every time I moved. Boy, it was going to be tough making this match entertaining. Lynn did her best with Clint watching her back. She did not disappoint.

“I’m glad I picked Betty for your nickname you big girl! Did anyone check to see if Juthamah is a guy or not? Maybe you thought this was lady’s night, Betty! Do one of your poses like you do when you’re pretending to be a man. C’mon Cheese… do the robot as the Dark Lord! Anything!”

The crowd joined in with their own insults, laughing with Lynn, and adding boo’s to the mix. I stopped the boo’s for a moment by doing the Dark Lord robot while singing ‘I Need a Hero’ in Dark Lord voice. I had to stop because Juthamah grew a pair and rushed me. I met him with a straight right that destroyed his nose. I went to work on his arms and ribcage, throwing shots meant to fracture. It’s not that I don’t try and hurt another fighter when I’m in a real UFC match. I do. It’s a lot easier though when your opponent has no defensive skills. Juthamah tried to throw jabs and combinations, but when you’re muscle bound, you need to fight someone who practically stands still with no skills or speed. I peppered his arms at the elbow and shoulder joints, smashing right and left hooks into them at will. Once in a while I gave him a nice shot into his mangled nose.