The Hard Core

by Allen Manning

  An elbow slammed between John’s shoulder blades, but he gritted his teeth and wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist. Lifting him up and turning his body sideways, he slammed Hawke onto the hood of a parked car.

  John’s fist crashed into Hawke’s head, but the INSEC captain turned enough to allow the helmet to absorb most of the blow. He wrapped both arms around John’s wrist and brought his legs up, trapping John in an armbar, and attempting to lock his arm out.

  * * *

  Chance brought his knees up, thrusting out with both legs as he pressed his back to the pillar. He kicked Rhino away and broke free of the man’s grip, tearing part of the nylon webbing loose from his vest. Chance stripped his jacket off, dropping it at his feet.

  “What was that for?” Rhino asked. “Are your tiny arms supposed to scare me into surrendering?”

  “Nah, I just needed some room to move,” Chance said.

  “Why, so you can run away?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of this.” Chance shuffled forward and scooped the jacket up with his boot, flinging it toward the giant’s head.

  He planted his foot and twisted around, spearing Rhino in the solar plexus with a spinning side kick. Stepping in, Chance planted a roundhouse to the inside of his foe’s muscular leg. The boot struck with an audible thump, stealing Rhino’s footing as he struggled with the garment in his face.

  He ripped the jacket free and fired the same fist forward, catching Chance in the chest as he tried to continue his assault. The blow sent the detective flying back several feet, skidding along the concrete before rolling to a stop against the concrete pillar.

  Chance spat to the side and wiped a bare arm across his mouth. “Not bad for a meathead. But I remember you being a scrawny little punk when I busted you.”

  “That was a different life,” Rhino said. “Now this meathead is going to return the favor and bust you. Bust you wide open.”

  “Man, that was cheesy. You need to work on your threats,” Chance said, getting to his feet. “Right now they’re only marginally better than your fighting skills.”

  Rhino snorted and rushed forward. Chance dove and rolled to the side as a boot cracked the concrete behind him. Chance stood and launched himself in the air. He spun, snapping a hook kick across Rhino’s jaw, as he twisted around.

  The kick rocked the brute, but he recovered quickly and renewed his attack. Chance barely brought his arm up in time as a wrecking ball swung his way. Rhino’s fist carried through, sending him reeling. He caught himself against the grill of a truck.

  The detective slipped away a hair’s breadth from the titan’s foot as it tore the bumper free. Rhino lifted the chunk of steel and raised it over his head, smashing it against the ground as Chance once again escaped the jaws of certain death.

  * * *

  Hawke pulled with all of his might, arching his back as he tried to hyperextend the tree limb in his grasp. John grabbed his wrist with his other hand and pulled the man up with a furious shout. He slammed Hawke on the hood, cracking the windshield with his helmet.

  Still, his opponent refused to relent. John felt his elbow straining as something popped. The pain surged through his body, fueling his fire. He roared again and lifted Hawke straight up. John took a step back and brought his foe crashing down on the fender of the car.

  Hawke’s shoulders and neck dented the body of the vehicle, stunning him enough to loosen his grip. John shook his arm free as his foe collapsed to the concrete.

  The shriek of rending metal snapped John’s attention away. Rhino grabbed a truck bumper and hammered it down on the concrete just as Chance rolled out of the way.

  The big man reared back for another swing, but the bumper met resistance before his swing hit its apex. John grabbed the end, nullifying the attack.

  “Go take care of Hawke,” John said to Chance, keeping his eyes locked with his opponent. “I’ve got some unfinished business with the big guy here.”

  Chance pushed himself up to unsteady feet, clutching an injured arm close to his body. “Well then, don’t let me get in your way.”

  “Didn’t get enough last time, old man?” Rhino grinned and tilted his head to the side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck.

  “I recall you running away during our last dance.” John shot him a smile in return. “This time you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  Rhino sneered and jerked the bumper free. John read the movement far before the brute initiated it, releasing the bludgeon as his foe pulled back. The lack of resistance compromised Rhino’s balance. John stepped in and hurled a straight right cannonball. The fist connected and crunched bone and cartilage in his opponent’s nose.

  John strung a combo together, following with a left hook and right uppercut. Blood sprayed out with each thunderous blow, staggering the beast. Rhino fell back into the truck, dropping the truck’s bumper.

  “You kids are always leaving your toys laying around,” John said, picking the weapon up and flinging it to the side.

  Rhino swung his sledgehammer fist toward him. John blocked the blow with his forearm, but the power still slid him sideways several inches. He drove off of his rear leg and connected with a punishing right hook that caught the mountainous merc above his left ear. Pain arced through John’s injured elbow, but he didn’t slow down for a second.

  Rhino sneered and put his head down to charge, tackling John against the side of a nearby car. The front passenger window shattered as their bodies collided with the vehicle. Clasping his hands together, John brought them down hard onto Rhino’s lower back.

  He felt his feet coming up as Rhino locked his hands behind him and tried to lift. John pounded him again with his fists as he dropped back down. He drove his knee up into the brute’s stomach and hit him with a couple of thundering hooks to the ribs.

  Releasing his hold, Rhino straightened himself with deceptive speed. He planted one massive palm on John’s chest, and fired a cannonball right, using the open hand to gauge the distance. The fist caught John across his jaw, sending him reeling against the car.

  The big mercenary lunged forward to press the attack. John spun off the angle of attack, grasping the handle of the car door. He whipped the door open, and it crashed full force into his opponent.

  Dazed and furious, Rhino shouted and grasped the mangled door, ripping it free from the hinges. He ran forward and slammed into John, batting him to the side. Rhino swung the shield again, but John pivoted back to avoid the attack, countering with a straight left.

  His fist connected with the steel door panel, denting it further as Rhino raised it to block the punch. John kicked him back and moved in to launch another series of blows.

  Rhino fell for the fake and brought the door up again. Grabbing the top and bottom, John twisted and wrenched it free from the mountain’s grasp. He jammed the end into Rhino’s gut and reared back, bringing the car door crashing down onto his opponent’s head and shoulders.

  Rhino screamed in rage and launched a punch toward John. Using the door as a barrier, he brought it up just as Rhino’s fist made contact with a deafening ring of steel. Unprepared for the aggressive assault, the impact sent John sailing backward, against the fender of the parked car. The door flew off to the side as the front of the vehicle skidded along the concrete.

  * * *

  Donovan Hawke breathed in and out deeply, his shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. He stared at Chance from under his angled brow. A line of blood dripped from his lips. Equally worn, Chance held his arm close to his body, Rhino’s blow from earlier possibly fracturing the limb.

  “Alright, Captain Crunch, just surrender now and save yourself some embarrassment,” Chance said.

  Hawke spat to the side and straightened his posture, bringing his hands up, ready to fight.

  “Well, let the record show that I offered.” Chance took a deep breath and exhaled as he raised his fists to his face.

  Rushing in with surprising speed, Hawke
launched a low roundhouse kick. Chance brought his knee up, checking the attack and landing a low roundhouse in response. He followed with a second attack, but Hawke stuffed a foot into Chance’s leg, intercepting the attack. Both men fired a front thrust kick, each landing on the other’s chest.

  They stumbled back before each man regained their balance. Chance brushed a hand over the boot print on his black tank top and chuckled.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  Hawke answered with a fiery glare, faking a kick and rushing in close. Chance attempted to block the attack, only to find his foe bridging the gap. An elbow arced in. The blow collided with Chance’s arm as he snapped it up at the last second to absorb the attack.

  Immense pain radiated out to his fingertips and up to his shoulder as his injured forearm took the brunt of the strike. Hawke laced his fingers behind Chance’s neck, and he snapped a pair of knees up the middle. The first hit him flush in the gut as Chance hesitated to risk his arm again.

  The second he was able to partially deflect with his uninjured arm. He shrugged his head free and whipped an elbow of his own. Hawke leaned away, leaving himself exposed for the thrusting knee that Chance shot straight out.

  Instead of pulling away to reevaluate his strategy, Hawke flowed seamlessly into grappling range, wrapping his arms around the detective’s waist. Chance dropped his stance lower, trying to get his hips away, but his foe only used it as an opportunity to slide his way up, securing a high body lock.

  Chance tried to push away, driving a few short hooks to Hawke’s ribs. With one arm trapped, Chance felt his opponent’s arms snake around his neck, securing his grip to start attempting a triangle choke with his arms. Grabbing his wrist with his free hand, he shoved his elbow against Hawke’s neck. He tried to break free with a knee to the inner thigh, but Hawke wanted to pull him off balance to get him to the ground.

  Standing straighter to use his size and strength advantage, Chance pushed again, making the space he needed to slip his arm out and over Hawke’s head, wrapping it around his neck. Before Chance could step into a hip throw, the INSEC captain released his grip and twisted free.

  Opening up the range, Hawke snapped a quick punch, catching Chance with the left jab. Two more punches found their marks, with the second stunning Chance as it struck him in the temple.

  He tried to roll with it as he staggered to the side. Needing the breathing room to recover, he took several more steps and shuffled back as Hawked came in to capitalize. Right into my trap, Chance thought as he started his counter attack.

  By the time Hawke realized what he had done, it was already too late. Chance bought the space he needed to bring his kicks back into the fight and swung his leg across, in a high arc. The roundhouse slammed into his foe’s arms. His left foot hammered Hawke on the front of his thigh, the meat tenderizing attack eliciting a pained grunt. Chance raised his other leg and snapped a side kick into Hawke’s chest.

  As his assailant rocked back on his heels, struggling to maintain his balance, Chance took a step forward and leaped up into the air, spinning around as his hook kick circled around, cracking Hawke across the temple.

  Chance landed just as Hawke’s body spiraled down to the concrete, unconscious.

  “Sorry, Cap’n. I told you we could have done this the easy way.”

  * * *

  John pushed himself off the car and ducked as Rhino’s boulder-like fist sailed over his head. He leaned to the side to slip his foe’s follow up straight punch, the wind brushing across his face as the blow missed him by millimeters.

  Firing back, John’s right hand crashed into Rhino’s cheek. The powerful strike knocked the mountain back several steps. Rhino brushed the back of his hand across his face and smiled as he wiped his tongue across his bloodied teeth.

  “I’m going to enjoy breaking every one of your bones, old man.”

  John clenched and loosened his fists, shaking the pain from his hands. “Tough talk for—”

  “And I’m going to—” Chance stood next to John. “Oh, I’m sorry. I talked right over you. Go ahead.”

  Rhino roared and blitzed the duo. Chance tried to stop him with a stiff side kick to the stomach, but the big man absorbed the hit and swatted the detective away with a backhand.

  John doubled the brute over with a crushing left hook to the liver. Rhino wheezed and clutched his side. John’s second punch slammed into the muscular forearm of his foe, and the third was just as ineffective as Rhino covered up with his massive limbs.

  The beast shot a hand forward and grabbed a handful of John’s jacket. A heavy right fist hurled toward him. He deflected Rhino’s blow, but the giant’s immense power bled through his defense.

  Rhino reared his hand back again. A flash of movement wiped across John’s field of view as Chance’s foot lashed out, snapping a roundhouse across their opponent’s face. With a grunt, the INSEC merc stumbled back several steps.

  John and Chance exchanged a quick glance. Each man gave a short nod that communicated everything they needed to say in that sliver of time. Thank you. You’re welcome. Let’s finish this.

  Rhino was shouting now, ready to crush his opponents underfoot. He looked up to see John moving in fast. Chance was off to the side, dropping low as his body spun.

  John’s arm struck Rhino’s thick neck, catching his chin and jaw along the crook of his elbow. The clothesline hit with a thud just as Chance swept his foot out in a tight arc, uprooting the tree trunk legs of the brute.

  The simultaneous blow spun Rhino’s body in midair. His head hit the concrete with a crack, but the momentum of his massive frame carried his body through the rotation, snapping his neck with a sickening crunch. His boots thumped on the ground as his body crumpled into a heap before sprawling out.

  Rhino’s eyes were open, staring off into the abyss as his head lolled to the side at an unnatural angle.

  Chance cradled his right arm with his left, holding it close to his body. “That wasn’t fun. Remind me not to go toe-to-toe with beasts like that again.”

  John smirked. “Let’s go.”

  A faint sound snapped them to full alert. The sound of steel scraping across the concrete pulled their eyes to the side. Captain Hawke raised the pistol that John had tossed away earlier.

  “Look out!” Chance rushed to the side as the pistol popped.

  The round punched through muscle as he pushed John behind a pillar. Chance scrambled behind a car as Hawke continued firing at him.

  John drew the 1911 from his holster and the partially empty magazine from his other hip as he spun out from behind the concrete barrier. The empty mag cleared the weapon just as he inserted the next and thumbed the slide release.

  Hawke adjusted his aim, pressing the trigger again, but John was faster. His pistol thundered as the first round struck the armored chest plate. The next shot tore half of the man’s jaw away. Hawke dropped to his knees, struggling to lift the weapon with his shaky hand.

  Just as the muzzle rose up, John pressed the trigger once more. Hawke’s body switched off entirely as the round struck him in the forehead.

  CHAPTER

  44

  “John, are you there?” Millie asked.

  “We’re here,” Chance said. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Ty. He says some guys just grabbed Faust and headed up to the roof,” Millie said.

  “We’re right outside of the control room now,” John said, holstering his pistol.

  He held the door open for Chance as they stepped inside. Ty popped out from behind a control panel.

  “Man, I’m glad you guys are back,” he said. “A few of those INSEC goons took Faust up to the roof. They fragged the room and killed Blythe.”

  “Stay here with Ty,” John said to Chance. “I’m going after Faust.”

  “Wait. You can’t go alone. Call Millie for backup,” Chance said, settling into a chair and reaching for a first aid kit.

  “She can’t leave Roland,” Ty said. “She says he’s
in bad shape.”

  Chance looked at John and Ty, a long moment of silence stretching out. He grabbed the first aid kit and nodded before heading out the door.

  “I’ll go help her. John, you be careful,” Chance said.

  * * *

  Standing at the access for the roof, John heard the thumping of an approaching helicopter. He ejected the magazine of his 1911, glancing down at the single round inside. Plus one in the pipe, he thought, reinserting the mag and flicking the safety off.

  Easing the door open, he took the scene in as he slipped out onto the roof. On the far end, Faust stood next to two INSEC operatives. He held his hands over his ears as the others crouched, aiming their weapons out onto the battlefield.

  A third man stood guard near the stairs to prevent anyone from sneaking up. He had his head turned away from John, watching the chopper landing. John had his pistol up in a two-handed grip as he slowly crept up.

  “Is that really where the idiot is landing?” Faust asked. “Does he expect us to go down there to him, instead of just landing up here?”

  “Sir, the roof isn’t built to support the weight. We can climb down this way,” one of the men said.

  As the pilot set the craft down, the soldier watching the door turned back to face John. His eyes lit up, and he raised his weapon. Charging forward, John pumped the last two rounds into the man’s chest. He closed the remaining distance and grabbed the rifle with one hand before smashing the grip of his handgun into the man’s face.

  The other two mercs wheeled around at the sound of the pistol fire. John had the rifle up against his shoulder, firing a burst into the chest of the first soldier.

  The second man snapped his weapon up and returned fire, but John continued to stride forward as the rounds flew far wide of his position. He dropped the other merc with a pair of bursts and whipped the muzzle toward Faust.