by Lincoln Cole
“Is this truly necessary?” Jill asked.
“Just trying to keep you safe.”
“By picking a fight with my security force?”
“Only fists. It’ll give good practice all around.”
“It’ll waste all our time. I could call off this fight if I so chose.”
“But you won’t,” Dominick said, half-smiling at her. “Because you think I’ll lose.”
Jill continued frowning at him, but he could see her bemusement. She waved her hand, beckoning for them to get on with it.
Trent nodded and turned to Dominick. “Last chance. I’d hate to see you hurt that pretty face.”
Dominick glanced at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on them.”
Trent smiled the tiniest bit and nodded. “Patrick, Greg.”
The two called men stepped forward from the group. They wore their expensive suits, but at a nod from their boss, they removed their coats, ties, and shirts.
Both burly and ripped, they had the mirthless eyes of men who had experienced and done terrible things. They also presented precisely what Dominick had expected, and they would underestimate him. Patrick, the bigger one, had a long scar under his right armpit that looked many years old.
Dominick stripped off his shirt. He had several scars of his own, collected through the years. They belied one of the more interesting parts of his life before his husband and became something that he explained away as his younger and more boisterous life before their marriage.
Not a far stretch: he’d behaved like a hellion as a teenager and twenty-something, prone to getting into fights. When he told Marvin the stories, he just left out that a lot of those fights involved demons.
“How we doing this?” he asked. “First blood?”
“Until you yield.”
Dominick laughed. “Or they do. Stakes?”
“You lose, you get the hell out of here.”
Dominick nodded. “I win, you call in all of your reserve forces to bolster security and actually listen to me.”
Trent studied him for a moment, and then nodded. “Deal.”
They shook hands, and then Trent walked over toward the center of the lawn, about ten meters from Ms. Reinfer. Dominick and the two men followed, standing about two meters apart and eyeing each other.
“Keep it over here. You come too close to Ms. Reinfer, and I’ll have to get involved. Got it?”
Dominick nodded, as did the other two. They stood eyeing him, sizing him up and summarily dismissing him. They thought this would all be over soon, and that he’d jumped in over his head.
Maybe he had. Though confident in his hand-to-hand skills, maybe he had underestimated his opponents. They’d trained as soldiers, after all, which meant they would prove well-trained in hand-to-hand combat as well, and that they had seen action overseas if Trent could be believed.
“Do you think they have ice packs in the freezer for us after all this?” he asked.
The men just stared at him.
He shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Ready?” Trent asked the two men. Patrick nodded, never taking his eyes from Dominick.
Trent turned to him. “What about you?”
“I’m good.”
“All right.”
Trent turned and walked back toward Ms. Reinfer. About halfway there, glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Begin.”
***
Patrick—to Dominick, he looked like a charging buffalo—came running in at him. His partner, Lobster—on account of his flushed red face—circled around, trying to flank Dominick and surprise attack him.
He danced backward, shifting his stance and ducking under a punch from Buffalo. He didn’t fight back yet, just moved and shifted and sized up the two men. Buffalo got impatient, launching attack after attack and not defending himself properly.
Lobster stayed more patient, watching Dominick and searching for a weakness. He waited for Dominick to engage Buffalo before launching strikes.
Happily, after only a few punches and kicks, Buffalo grew winded. He mustn’t have spent as much time at the gym as he should have, or at least less than his boss knew. That would make a factor in Dominick’s favor, and the longer the fight went on, the less dangerous Buffalo would become.
A few seconds later, however, Dominick found out that Buffalo remained quite dangerous right now. He launched a feint that Dominick missed while making sure Lobster didn’t attack, and Buffalo followed it up with a sucker punch that caught Dominick in the jaw. He only managed to clip him, but it gave enough force to stagger him to the side.
He rolled with the blow, shifting his weight and quick stepping to keep his feet. As expected, Lobster chose that as his time to strike, coming from the side with a series of punches. Dominick blocked the first two with his arms, ducked a third, and shifted his body to put Lobster between him and Buffalo. His best option would be to face them one at a time.
Lobster’s hits didn’t come that heavily but they came fast. Dominick couldn’t avoid them so easily, but he also didn’t fear them as much as his oversized partner. He deflected one, then launched a counter.
His hit landed, and he knocked Lobster back and to the ground, but before he could follow through, Buffalo waded back in, forcing him to backpedal and maintain distance.
They separated and circled. Lobster shook his head, dazed, and climbed to his feet. Surprise and respect settled on the two men’s faces. They grew more cautious now, astonished at how difficult this had turned out.
Dominick didn’t give them long to wonder about that before wading back in. He didn’t want to give Buffalo time to catch his breath. To that end, he kicked out at Lobster, forcing him back a few steps, and then weaved under a punch from Buffalo before stepping in close.
From that position, he launched a series of heavy rib punches, and he could tell from the sharp intake of breath that his hits had the desired effect. His flurry didn’t come without cost, though, and a second later, a kidney punch landed on his right side.
Dominick staggered, and Lobster got another quick kick to the back of his knee before he could roll away, dropping him down to the ground. The man followed this with a kick aimed at his face, but he dipped and rolled under the attack, coming to his feet a few steps away.
Buffalo clutched his heaving side and winced in pain. Lobster glanced at his friend, concerned, and then back at Dominick.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad, yourself.”
“You done?”
“Nope,” Dominick said. “I can do this all day.”
Though pain flared up his side, Dominick refused to wince. Lobster got him good. He’d grown used to fighting through pain, but it would limit his mobility.
“You guys had enough?” he asked, stretching up his arm.
They didn’t answer. Buffalo tapped his friend on the shoulder, and they split apart to flank Dominick. They could tell that he hurt, and he couldn’t afford to let their confidence build.
He charged in at Buffalo, deflected a punch, and then hit him once in the chest. It proved a feint, though, and as expected, Lobster came at him from behind a second later.
This time, he stood ready.
He spun, knocking Lobster’s punch wide, and then lashed out and hit him, hard, in the throat with his knuckles. The man’s windpipe collapsed under his hit, and Lobster clutched at his neck and spun away.
Dominick waded in, circling to put distance between himself and Buffalo, and then landed another three solid hits, two to the man’s stomach and one to his jaw. Lobster staggered off balance, trying to defend himself, but the hits landed hard.
He went down, rolling into a fetal position to defend his weak points. Dominick moved to pursue, planning on taking him out of the fight, but Buffalo didn’t give him the chance. Grabbed from behind, Dominick got yanked sideways and thrown.
Not thrown just a little. He flew two meters before touching the ground. On landing, he hit and rolled, sliding up
to his knee. Buffalo came charging after him, focused, and forced Dominick to backpedal and give ground.
He ducked and dodged, struggling to catch his balance, but his luck ran out. He took a hit to the temple—a hard one. It rang his bell, and he became too disoriented to block or deflect the next one that came in at his jaw.
Once again, Dominick fell back, hitting the ground, and forced himself to roll and dodge. A kick to his side clipped him, and the wind got knocked out of his lungs.
Dazed, he struggled to his feet and backpedaled. Buffalo came after him, landing heavy blow after blow. Dominick could taste blood, and he shook his head to regain his concentration.
His opponent’s breathing came hard, and his attacks had slowed, but the longer he waited, the more likely that Lobster would get back in the fight. Then it would be over, and Dominick would end up done for.
In an evasive move, he ducked an attack and slid in across the grass on his knee, wrapping the man’s legs up. He’d used a wrestling move; one for which he hoped his opponent hadn’t readied. Buffalo sprawled, but Dominick had him around the knees and didn’t let go.
He lifted, picking up the huge man onto his shoulder, and then came down hard, slamming him back to the ground. He slid forward, pinning Buffalo’s arm, and then used his free hand to whale on the man’s face with his closed fist.
Though not heavy punches, enough of them could do serious damage. Buffalo squirmed and rolled, trying to get loose, but Dominick stayed with him, keeping him pinned.
“Yield,” he shouted. He tasted blood, and then spat it to the side.
Buffalo kicked and thrashed, trying to break free. Dominick rolled and kneed him hard in the face, and then grabbed his arm, shifted it between his legs, and lay back, extending the arm out straight.
“Yield,” he said. “Or I’ll break your arm.”
Buffalo stopped moving, laying still and panting. Dominick held the arm extended and kept steady pressure on the joint.
“Fine. I yield,” Buffalo called, dazed and clearly annoyed.
Dominick let go of his arm, and the man yanked it free. They rolled apart, and Dominick staggered to his feet.
Lobster had found his feet and headed toward them, face flushed and angry, but a quick shake of the head from Buffalo stopped him.
“It’s over.”
Clearly, Lobster didn’t like that but didn’t object.
Dominick felt grateful because he could barely stand. His sides ached, his jaw hurt, and he saw double from the exertion and hits to his face. His left temple throbbed, and he felt positive he’d popped a blood vessel. When he took a step, walking proved hard with messed up equilibrium, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him seriously.
Instead, he went slowly over toward where Trent and Jill sat waiting. They watched him, Trent with respect and Jill with annoyance. He wanted to clutch at his side, and thought he might vomit, but held himself steady.
“Done.”
“Fine. I’ll call in all my men. For how long?”
“A few days,” Dominick said. “And I have some other things I would like to discuss.”
“Like what?”
“Not yet,” Dominick said. He rubbed his mouth. Blood coated his arm. “Let me get cleaned up, and then we’ll talk.”
***
In the kitchen, he found the ice without much problem. Most of the staff remained absent for now, prepping for dinner, but the room held a huge walk-in freezer, fully stocked. He made himself several bags of ice, then went back to the room where he stayed and poured it into the bathtub, which he then filled with cold water and slipped into.
Everything hurt, and he felt dizzy and disoriented. But, honestly, the pain didn’t bother him too much. The feelings of worry and anxiety had seemed worse than this pain, and it gave a kind of relief to spend his time distracted by the pain and not the other problems he faced.
And, at least he’d won the fight. It hadn’t looked good for a minute there, and if Lobster and Buffalo hadn’t underestimated him, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. That wouldn’t prove an advantage he would get a second time, but it had paid off.
However, that made the name of the game: in the end, fights like that became as much games of the mind as the body. Neither of those two buffoons had much in the way of that.
Trent, on the other hand.
Maybe he could become reasonable.
Dominick climbed out of the tub after a long soak, wrapped himself in a towel, and collapsed onto his bed. He’d grown hungry and would need to go out foraging for food sometime soon. The kitchen didn’t lay too far away, and usually, would contain someone who could put together a good meal for him. They might even have finished up dinner by then. But, for now, just lying on the bed in pain felt good enough.
After about an hour, a knock came at the door. He tossed on a pair of pants and a shirt and went to answer.
Trent stood there, sizing him up. He frowned at Dominic. “You good?”
Dominick nodded. “Yeah.”
Trent turned and headed down the hall. “Come with me.”
Dominick thought to grab some more clothes, and then changed his mind. He followed Trent through the estate to the security room. Inside, the two technicians sat waiting for him next to one of the screens. On it, he saw a frozen image of the front of the estate; an image taken by one of the cameras of the roadway.
“What’s this?”
“Started about a week ago,” Trent said. “We have someone casing the place.”
Trent nodded to one of the techs, and the guy hit play on the computer. The video started rolling, and a few seconds later, a gray sedan drove by. It moved fairly slowly, but from the angle, he couldn’t see the driver.
“That car has shown up for the last week or so at different times throughout the day. In the last two days, it has happened around the time of our shift change.”
“Who is it?”
Trent hesitated. “For a while, we thought it was you. Maybe one of your people screwing with us or trying to make us look bad.”
“What? That has nothing to do with me.”
“You sure?”
Dominick narrowed his eyes. “I told you, I don’t even work for a security company. I’m just here to help.”
Trent seemed to consider that. Finally, he nodded. “That’s not the only thing. Last couple of nights, we’ve also had some alarms triggered. Motion sensor, infrared. Stuff like that. When we go to check it out, nothing is there. It’s like—”
“Someone is testing your security.”
“Yep, and we know it wasn’t you.”
“Yeah, you have a camera in my room.”
Trent looked surprised. “You knew?”
Dominick shrugged. “You didn’t put it there the first night because you knew I would do a sweep, but it showed up the second. Your guys didn’t hide it too well.”
“So, then who’s testing our security? You seem to know something about this.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“An assassin after your employer, but this one has allies. When she comes, she’s going to do it hard and fast.”
“She? Does she have a name?”
“Nida. A dangerous and unstable foe. I won the fight, so you need to call in more men.”
“I already did,” Trent said. “Yesterday. I called in all my reserves and hired four more contractors.”
Dominick tilted his head in confusion. “You could have just said that earlier. Then, the fight? What the hell was that for?”
Trent shrugged. “I didn’t think you would win, and we don’t need you stepping on our toes. You provoked it, remember?”
Dominick sighed and rubbed his jaw. It still hurt to talk. “Yeah. Sure.”
“In any case, Fred and Kenny here are at your disposal. They’ll show you the schematics and floor plans and where we have the alarms situated. You know more than you’re saying, and that’
s fine, but I want you to check it and make sure we don’t have any weak spots.”
This proved way more of an olive branch than Dominick could have hoped for.
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Let me know if you find anything. The rest of the crew should show up in a couple of hours, and I plan to reset our patrols and make sure we don’t have any weak points in the coverage. You think that if we get hit, it’ll happen soon?”
“If it comes, it’ll come the next week or so.”
“Good. I don’t want to waste money. Let me know if you find anything.”
Trent headed out of the security office. Dominick watched him leave, and then turned back to the two technicians, Kenny and Fred. They both looked at him, waiting to see what he would need.
Food—he needed food.
“Which one of you is better with these computers?”
They exchanged a glance, and then—tentatively—the guy on the left raised his hand. He wore a badge, which identified him as Kenny. A skinny guy with thinning hair and a long face.
Fred appeared a little bigger with huge glasses that covered half of his head. Dominick pointed at him. “Fred, you’re on delivery. Go out and buy three of the biggest pizzas you can find, and load them with everything.”
“Even anchovies?”
“Especially anchovies.”
“I hate anchovies.”
“Fine. One without anchovies. Then pick up a couple of gallons of coffee.”
“I hate coffee.”
“Jesus, Fred. Then pick up some energy drinks.” He waved his hand as though sweeping Fred to the door. “Now go. Hurry.”
“All right.”
Just before he reached the door, Dominick added, “And donuts. Also, some candy. It’ll be a long night.”
Fred didn’t reply, disappearing outside the security room. Dominick rubbed his hands together and turned to Kenny.
“Okay, then. Let’s get to work.”
***
It took about eight hours to go over all of the estate defenses and floor plans. He’d worked with the team who designed the Council defenses for a lot of different buildings, so he knew a good security system when he saw one.
