One Rough Man

“It’s past seven now, so we’ve probably missed the last bus, but we can check the schedule for tomorrow.”

She didn’t look convinced but followed me out the door. Before I could lock it, Jennifer backed into me, her face ashen.

“The asshole that kidnapped me is in the lobby. He’s talking to the clerk.”

50

The hotel had only six rooms. A simple establishment built around an old colonial house, it had a balcony that extended out past our room and overlooked the front desk, with stairwells coming up left and right to our floor. Looking down I saw a Caucasian and a native discussing something with the clerk. The clerk pointed in our direction, and before I could move, the men were looking right at Jennifer and me. Time froze for a fraction of a second. Jennifer broke it, racing down the hallway toward the access to the roof veranda. The men immediately sprang into action, taking the far stairwell to cut her off.

Shit.

It wasn’t the course of action I would have chosen, but I didn’t bother yelling. Too late for that. Jennifer had committed us, and I had no choice but to follow, although going to the roof was possibly the worst choice. We couldn’t jump off a three-story building.

We raced up the small stairwell and broke out onto the roof. I slammed the door shut and jammed a deck chair up against it. Jennifer kept going to the railing, looking down. I surveyed the area, determining what I had to fight with, which was pretty much nothing. We were on a small ten-foot-by-ten-foot veranda. No weapons, no room to dodge and fight two men.

Jennifer shouted over her shoulder, “You can climb down this, can’t you? You’ve had some type of badass commando training, right?”

I couldn’t believe how stupid that question was.

“Yeah, I can, but I sure as shit can’t do it with you on my back. Get over here in the corner and stay down.”

Jennifer bent down and tore off her sandals, throwing them over the side, followed by the knapsack she was using as a purse. “Don’t worry about me.”

Before I could stop her, she vaulted the balcony and disappeared. I ran over to the railing. Jennifer was already at the second level and scampering down the building like a monkey.

I was about to vault the railing myself when I heard the men hammer the door from the inside. The deck chair gave a foot. There was no way I could make it to the bottom before they reached the rail, and I’d be an easy target. I raced back, stopping on the side of the foot-long crack held in place by the deck chair, waiting on the men to break through.

They hammered the door twice more, finally causing the deck chair to fly off. The first man ran out with his pistol extended in one hand, breaking into the darkness of the deck and silhouetted by the light of the stairwell.

As soon as he was clear of the door, I grabbed the hand holding his pistol and used his own momentum to slingshot him up and over the railing of the deck, letting him fall the forty feet below. Turning, I saw the second man, the Caucasian, coming through the door, pistol at the ready. The sudden darkness from the light of the stairwell gave me an edge, as the man searched the gloom for a target he couldn’t yet see. I kicked out hard and launched his pistol over the railing.

The force of the kick caused me to rotate slightly, getting rid of the immediate threat but exposing me to a counterassault. He wasted no time, giving me a roundhouse kick to my upper thigh that damn near crippled me. I went to a knee, collapsing my arms around my head to protect it. He followed with a snap-kick. My arms absorbed the blow, but it knocked me over. Hitting my back, I saw him close in for the kill, my position vulnerable for an endgame. I rose up on my arms like a crab and lashed out for his nearest leg with my foot, forcing him to back up and allowing me to regain my base. Back on my feet, we circled each other.

“I’m glad you got rid of the weapon,” he said. “I’d rather beat you to death for the trouble you’ve caused. You should have hidden the Suburban. Not too many ways to go on that highway.”

English accent. I said nothing, simply watching his technique. He had his hands raised chin high, balled into fists with his palms facing the ground. He bounced lightly on his feet, alternating between right and left, with one always poised to snap out and strike. A Muay Thai stance, so he had some training. But Muay Thai’s a stand-up game. Get his ass on the ground, and he’s mine.

He continued. “Where’d the little honey go? I’m looking forward to spending a little time with her. Once I get rid of you, she and I are going to get very well acquainted.”

I ignored his banter, wondering why he wasn’t forcing the fight. It dawned on me what he was doing. He’s stalling. He’s got backup on the way. No time to fuck around.

I waited for him to dance forward again, then shot inside his striking range, blocking a palm strike and following up with a right cross to the side of his head. I clinched him, grabbing his left biceps and controlling that arm, but before I could get my head into his chest he clocked me with a wicked elbow from the right, hammering right above my eye and causing an explosion of my vision. The blow broke the weak dam holding my blackness back, letting the beast loose. I now no longer wanted to escape. I wanted to destroy. I collapsed into him, protecting my head by pressing into his chest and completing the clinch. He gave me a useless blow to my back, and I was where I wanted to be.

I stretched my lower body back and drilled my knee into his inner thigh, hitting the tangle of nerves there, causing him to jerk in an attempt to escape. He raised his knee to attempt the same on me, but I was twisted away from the strike and waiting. I grabbed underneath the raised knee and launched forward with all of my might. He instinctively rotated to absorb the fall with his upper body, and I obliged, driving him full-force into the deck.

I ended up on his back in a rear-mount, his body facing the deck, the most vulnerable position I could ever imagine. He continued to fight furiously, trying to achieve dominance, but he had little skill on the ground. I pinned his arms with my legs and wrapped my right arm around his head, putting his forehead in the crook of my elbow and locking my hands together. Good night, asshole.

I bent his head back, listening to his rasping breath. When I got as far as I could, I hopped up onto the small of his back with my knee, freeing up his arms. Before he could react, I yanked to the rear, keeping his back pinned with my knee. He gave a guttural scream, then I felt his spine snap. The sensation sickened me a little, breaking my rage.

I rolled off him, gasping for air, a little ashamed of what I had done. Maybe a little afraid. You didn’t have to kill him. I heard movement and immediately rotated into a fighting crouch, only to see Jennifer in front of me.

“Jesus Christ!” she said. “Are you okay?”

I relaxed and wiped the sweat from my brow. When my hand came away, it was coated in blood. The elbow strike.

“Yeah. Just a small cut. Head wounds bleed a lot.”

“What about him?”

I looked at the body, maybe lifeless, maybe not, and couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth. “I knocked him out. He’s not a threat.”

I walked over to the body and ripped a section of shirt, pressing it into my forehead to stop the bleeding. “Did you see anyone in the lobby? Anyone else coming up?”

“Huh?”

“The hotel lobby. Did you see anyone? Can we go out that way?”

“I didn’t go through the lobby. I climbed back up.”

Is she fucking kidding? “You climbed back up here? On the side of the building?”

“Yeah. There was a guy who came over the rail. I guess you threw him. He hit the ground hard, but he was still moving. I knocked him out with a rock and then waited on you to come down. When you didn’t, I figured maybe