Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  I threw jabs into his face as he backed away. I had no plans to get caught off balance going into full bore attack mode yet. He tried a kick with his left, but nearly went down. I dropped and leg whipped his left before Demi could pull it back. He crashed to the mat on his right side. I jumped up and drop kicked his exposed left leg. It was a beaut. Demi dropped on his back in agony, but the damn round ended before I could stomp him. I didn’t bother backing away. If he ever got to his cage handlers it would be in a crawl. I saw Lynn four rows back screaming for blood. Clint was trying to settle her down with Lucas and Casey laughing and egging her on. The rest of the arena was very quiet. I sat down on my stool.

  My guys held ice packs on both shoulders and upper arms where Demi had been trying to beat them off my body. I sipped from the bottle Jafar held for me while watching The Destroyer get helped onto his stool. “He ain’t going to be as spry off the stool for the third round.”

  Tommy nodded as he toweled off my face and rubbed some goo in. “They’ll stick him with another cocktail, but you really did some leg damage on him.”

  “That boy can sure take some punishment,” Jess said.

  “He nearly made me rip my own head off when I blocked his right.”

  “We saw that,” Dev replied. “You need to keep moving back to his right like you did after cracking that left rib of his. It shortens the distance he can arc that right. Do you think you can take him down?”

  “I don’t know, Dev. Going for the takedown would really be chancing a haymaker.”

  “The reason I ask is because he won’t be able to get his left arm up because of his cracked rib. If you could wrap around that damn right of his, and lock him up in a triangle choke, he couldn’t do shit with his left to bust it up.”

  Tommy shook his head. “I don’t like it. That sucker’s hands are fast, cracked rib or not. We’ve all seen his punching power down on the videos. If he stuns John, and gets into a full mount, we’ll need a priest for last rites.”

  “I’m wondering if he’ll try taking me down this round. He has the power, and he knows I’m going to work his legs.”

  “Damn, John,” Jess exclaimed. “Don’t let that boy take you down. If he looks like he’s going to try it, bring out the Dark Lord and do the robot or something. Make him laugh. Do something!”

  I laughed at Jess’s suggestion. The warning buzzer sounded. I got up, taking stock of my shoulders and arms. They were hurtin’. I concentrated on The Destroyer’s journey to his feet. He looked across at me while testing out his aching knees. I glanced back at Jess and started doing the robot. It was so good, even Tommy laughed. Jess had to turn away. He was howling, and shaking his head. I kept it up until Jack gave us the ready sign. I even got some laughs from the audience. When I looked back at Subotic, I knew he was going to take me down. I had a plan for it, but I didn’t know if I could pull it off. See, no matter how fast you are, to do a takedown you have to duck your head at some point with your arms reaching outwards. The head is exposed for a split second.

  No way was I going to try a flying knee on him. If I got trapped under him, I’d be toast. It would have to be a perfectly timed front kick right on the button. It wouldn’t end the fight or anything, but it might discourage him from trying the takedown again. He covered up pretty well when Jack motioned for us to get busy, looking as if he had every intention of doing the strikes with his arms, forcing me back. I figured the takedown would come if I moved to kick at his damaged legs. Instead of the kick, I stomped his left instep. Oh baby did the pain flood his face on that one. It’s downright nasty doing that to a guy with slow moving legs. I was real broken up about it. I feinted a roundhouse right, and instead stomped his instep again.

  Demi had enough. He made as if to move back, and then dived forward for my legs. My left front kick caught him perfectly. It snapped his chin up like someone had hit him with a baseball bat. He staggered up stunned, and my roundhouse right kick hit smack dab on his hurt rib. His hands dropped, covering his ribcage. I hit him so hard with a left hook, I figured the force of it knocked out three people in the front row. Demi blinked, raised his hands slightly, and moved back. Then he did a maneuver I wasn’t expecting. He backed up against the cage. It made it difficult for him to go after me, but it made my kicks more dangerous to launch because of his reach. Demi nearly flattened me with a right, when I moved in and stomped his left instep again. I only partially blocked it. The birdies sang, and the grainy aura of knockout land descended on me in a rush. I knew better than to stop. I threw jabs until only the birdies were serenading me. The round ended, and I backed away.

  “Where the hell did you pull that front kick from?” Tommy patted my shoulder while taking out my mouthpiece. “You guessed the damn takedown right on the money.”

  “Yeah, but he nearly sent me to the grave when he backed up against the cage. That asshole is phenomenal. I’ve Gronked guys with half of what I put into that left hook I hit him with. That pisses me off!”

  “Calm the fuck down.” Dev gripped my chin. “You always knew there’d come a time when even you couldn’t Gronk a guy. Fight smart. Keep doing what you’re doing. Worst case scenario… we lose on a crooked decision. The UFC will watch the vids and come up with the fact they fixed it. Don’t be a big girl about this winning shit!”

  I shook loose of Dev and looked at Jafar. “Tase me, bro. I’m going in to mix it up this round.”

  Jafar’s face melted into slack jawed disbelief. “John… don’t do that. Why…why would you do such a stupid thing?”

  Tommy took one look at the stare I was aiming at Demi, and pulled Jafar back. “He’s nuts now, kid. Don’t bother trying to talk sense to the meathead.”

  All quiet on the Western Front. They iced me, and fixed my boo-boos. The warning buzzer sounded. I stood up. I admit it. Sometimes I’m not as smart as I should be. I’d worn Demi down for sure. He was gimping, but stomping a little as the drugs took effect that they’d injected between rounds. His corner crew smiled out at me. Then the obvious facts of the matter hit me. The Destroyer was going to stay away from me, only taking a shot if he could get a clean one sending me into the Stratosphere. They had a win. All Demi had to do was survive. I glanced back at my crew, looking grimly across the way. Dev met my grinning look and smiled. He saw it. I turned back and waited. The round was going to be a little different than The Destroyer’s crew thought.

  Jack did his usual readying motions. I played the relaxed, overconfident dolt. The moment Jack made his engage movement, I streaked across the mat, and snapped a flying right leg side kick into Subotic’s head right between the eyes. He slammed into the cage behind him, and dropped face first onto the mat. Demi wallowed around trying to get up when I drop kicked his damaged rib as if I were kicking a fifty yard field goal. I didn’t follow through on the damage I did there. I waited until he rolled toward his damaged side. I snaked up under him, trapping his right arm up, and locking around his neck from behind in a perfect triangle choke he couldn’t raise his left to tug at. Then I showed him my strength. He winced, gagging as I kept tightening. I whispered in his ear as Jack hovered near us.

  “Tap out now or die.”

  Demi tapped out. Jack flung himself in to save the kid, thinking I would kill him anyway. I released him and rolled away. The Destroyer’s corner rushed out, but Dev and Jess met them in a one sided punch-a-thon, where half his entourage were unconscious before Jack’s security force arrived in mass. Tommy was with me as I regained my feet. He yanked off my gloves, and put a towel around my shoulders.

  “Dark Lord, you are one bad mother fucker!”

  “That was one great ending, brother. I’m going over to that damn sports bar over there and get me a double Bud and Beam. Care to join me?”

  “Hell yeah! Then we get you showered and head over to The Warehouse. You and me are going to get plastered, including the kid here.”

  Jafar nodded with excitement. He gripped my arm with both his hands. “I…I was afraid you wou
ld do something foolish… and you did… and you still made it work! Praise Allah!”

  I laughed. I hated wondering what would have happened if Demi hadn’t tried the initial nut kick. I hovered over him, as the medical crew on watch that night decided not to move him because of his ribs. Smart move, because I know I did more than crack them with that last kick. Demi held his hand out to me. I grasped it in mine as I knelt next to him.

  “Thank you for not killing me.”

  “You, my friend are one tough dude. I don’t want a rematch.”

  Demi grimaced as the medical team put an inflatable vest in place. “I should not have listened to my handlers about the beginning. I am afraid my legs will never be the same.”

  Bummer. “That may be true, but if you ever need a job outside of the cage, give me a call.”

  The Destroyer grimaced as they finished cinching him up. “Thank you, John.”

  “Get well, Demetrius.”

  I stood up away as they made ready to transfer him onto the portable stretcher to shift him into the ambulance. I spent a few moments thinking about what would have happened if his nut kick had disabled me for all time. Yeah, I’m not all that sad about his poor old legs. I made a mental note to myself if he ever came at me again as an adversary, I planned on shooting him.

  Jim Bonasera and Jack Korlos boxed me in for the formal announcement. Ray Alexander was nowhere to be seen, and Tommy was looking around for him too. Bonasera made the announcement to the crowd about the decision everyone in the arena already knew, and Jack held up my arm. There were a few scattered cheers, especially from my representatives in the audience. They had seen a hell of a fight, so mostly there were very few boos.

  “Hell of a fight, kid,” Jack told me. “That counter move when he tried to kick you in the nuts was a real gem.”

  “Thanks, Jack. Without you refereeing the fight, I wouldn’t have had a chance. You’re getting a bonus for straight up doing your job.”

  “I won’t turn it down. See ya’.” Jack helped his security crew guide Subotic’s crew out of the cage area. They were not a happy bunch. Dev and Jess had rearranged a few faces.

  I headed for the bar. Yeah, I was still in my fighting togs amidst an angry crowd, but I also noticed my crew falling in at my back. Lynn was pumped, and it was not a good idea to front me with her dancing around at my back. I reached the bar without any interference. For one thing, me heading anywhere will give someone pause. Me, with my crew at my back was a no brainer.

  I reached the bar, and folks, I had an entourage when I reached it. “Bud and a double Beam, bartender.” He hesitated, looking off into the hinter land of no answers. I waved my recently gloved hand in his face. “Hey, a little service here, and get my friends anything they’re drinking.”

  The kid snapped out of it, placing a double Beam and a Bud chaser in front of me first. Oh, my goodness gracious, it tasted good. “Thanks be to God.”

  The rest of my retinue ordered too with Tommy arriving to put money on the bar.

  I drained the double Beam, and pointed at it while I slugged down half my Bud. Oh, good Lord in heaven, it’s the little things that put a smile on a human being’s face. Then the reason you don’t drink amidst an enemy audience became apparent. Ray Alexander showed up behind me with a bunch of Middle Eastern suits with him.

  “We’re appealing the fight, Harding!”

  Tommy and I busted up laughing. They can dress the pig up in an evening gown and makeup, but it’s still a pig. Apparently, these idiots thought because they paid to have an old, shitty backstreet warehouse rebuilt, they could tie up decisions in court, and make appeals to imaginary street-fighting grief counselors. Ray was sweating. He knew this whole business was illegal. I figured old Ray was up to his eyebrows in debt, and he took a big hit tonight.

  “Best explain to your buddies how the illegal fight game works, Ray. You kiddies can appeal anything you want. Review the tapes, picket the warehouse – hell, call the cops. You have some watching the doors now. You guys lost. Now, run along. You’re beginning to bore me.”

  I didn’t look away. My people were armed, but I didn’t want any shootouts. It was then, Alexi Fiialkov arrived with a small army of his warehouse security people.

  “What is this I am hearing about appeals, Ray? You will appeal nothing. Get out of my sight while you can still walk!”

  Fiialkov waited until Alexander hurried away before smiling and speaking to the suits still looking outraged. “You men have lost. I am sure your revenue from the overseas showing has made you much money. Pay off your debts from wagers made, and leave. Cause me any more trouble in my business, and I will show you my less cordial side. Am I clear?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Alexi made a gesture and his men surrounded the suits for imminent departure. The losers left without further comment. Alexi smiled at me, and exchanged nodding acknowledgements with my crew. “No shower, John… just a quick Bud and Beam, huh?”

  “Yep. How’d you do tonight?”

  “Oh… I did very well, my friend. I now own part of the holdings those gentlemen who were just here represent. It will be good to have some knowledge of their inner workings, will it not?”

  Well damn. “Yes it will. Thanks for sorting this out for us. I think it was about to get messy.”

  “Ray is as you know… an idiot. He was probably stupid enough to guarantee Demetrius would win. He’s not worth killing, but those men may have other ideas. I will leave you to your celebration.”

  “Goodnight, Alexi.” I turned back to the bar. I heard the click-clack of Lynn’s toy resuming its former position somewhere on her person. She sighed.

  “Damn it. I thought for a second we’d have a little fun.” Lynn turned to Clint. “I’m all tensed up. Let’s hit the streets and look for some trouble.”

  “We’re going to The Warehouse with John, my dear,” Clint replied as the rest of us laughed. “I’ll buy you the best wine or champagne they have.”

  “I need to kill something. That fight fired me up. No offense, Dark Lord, but I didn’t like your chances.”

  I downed my drinks. “I’ll get a shower and see you all out in the limo.”

  “Lucas and I are coming with you, partner,” Casey said. “We’ll make sure there aren’t any more poor sports waiting to do a Psycho scene on you in the shower.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Tommy said. “See you outside.”

  I nodded and started toward the locker room. The drinks had numbed the ache in my arms and shoulders. “Hey, you guys like my robot tonight?”

  “Oh man, that was the best,” Lucas said. “I thought that Bigfoot guy was going to have a brain freeze.”

  “I even saw Tommy laughing,” Casey added. “You know we didn’t come along with you to help hold your towel, right?”

  “Yeah, when Denny didn’t make it tonight, I figured something was up. You guys didn’t want to slap it on me before the fight. I appreciate that.”

  “The Gulf cruise starts next week, John,” Lucas said. “They’re shipping the Wolf to Texas tomorrow. Denny has a crew to go over it, and rearm our more potent weapons.”

  “Damn. I hope I can get back in time for Halloween. I promised Al we’d all get dressed up to escort her and a bunch of the kids around trick or treating.”

  “If you think I’m puttin’ on some clown costume or something, you’re nuts,” Lucas declared.

  “Nope. We’re sticking with the classic look for you. You’ll be Captain Ahab. I just need to saw your leg off and find a good peg.”

  Chapter Nineteen: Oil Rig

  At The Warehouse Bar I got an ovation as I walked in. Earl and ‘Rique came up to shake hands as I waved gallantly to my real fan base.

  “We have the whole end of the bar cordoned off for you, John.” Earl gestured at the bar, where my lovely wife Lora awaited in a short black, plunge necked dress that nearly gave me a stroke.

  Lynn giggled, peeking around me and waving at Lora. “It looks like a s
hort celebration for you, DL, but a very long night.”

  I couldn’t speak yet, so I simply nodded. As I walked toward Lora, it dawned on me she could come up with the nicest wardrobe surprises of any woman I’d ever known. Marla met me near where Lora wrapped her arms around me.

  “Everything is on the house tonight, Champ. Your buddy Alexi already called. I guess you made him rich. I got five to one odds, so I made a nice piece of change too.”

  “Sorry, John,” ‘Rique said. “Earl and I stayed away from the betting tonight. That damn guy was humongous.”

  “Actually, we were pretty conservative on our betting too,” I admitted. I looked down the way at my friends. “Did anyone bet on me?”

  Everyone looked down at the bar. “Can’t say I blame you. How much were we in for, Tommy?”

  “I put us in for twenty grand at four to one, so we did okay. We also got twenty-five large for the fight. I guess I’ll have to hire Marla to get the final bets in. Did you watch the fight, Lora?”

  Lora shook her head. “You know I don’t want to see John get his head kicked in, Tommy. Just because he didn’t this time doesn’t mean I wanted to watch it.”

  “I was telling Lora about it before you got here.” Marla served our drinks. “We pirated it off the Al Jazeera broadcast. That Destroyer guy ain’t human. I didn’t think anyone could take that kind of punishment.”

  “That was what we thought,” Jess spoke up. “We figured John would break his hands on that guy’s head.”