Fight to the Finish

by Shannon Greenland

  Mystic nodded, and Bruiser scowled again.

  “You look like Beaker,” I told her, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

  I laughed. Bruiser was a tomboy through and through, a girl that would rather punch out her problems than talk through them. This ‘date’ had to be mild torture for her.

  Adam pointed to a blue disc clipped to his shirt. “I’ll press this,” he pressed it and a buzzer went off, “when you’re not doing things correctly.”

  Straightening his back, Adam walked over to the tray and picked up a carafe of what looked like apple juice. He took each of their wine glasses and filled them up. “Polite conversation,” he reminded them.

  “What lovely,” Mystic started, “green eyes you have, my dear Bruiser.”

  She scoffed.

  Buzz.

  “Your hair,” Mystic tried again, “glows vibrant in the light.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Buzz.

  Adam put plates down in front of each of them. “We’ll stay here all day,” he sweetly reminded Bruiser, “if need be.”

  Bruiser looked down at her plate. “Peanut butter and jelly?”

  Adam waved his hand through the air. “We pull out all the stops her at restaurant de Adam.”

  Using his fork and knife, Mystic cut a chunk of his sandwich, very much in proper role. “What beautiful weather we’re having today.”

  Bruiser grabbed her sandwich and took a purposefully huge bite.

  Buzz.

  I put my hand over my mouth. This was too funny.

  Mystic took a sip of his apple juice. “Did you sleep well last night, my sweets?”

  Bruiser just looked at him.

  Buzz.

  Mystic delicately wiped the sides of his mouth. “I heard you downloaded some new music. Tell me about it.”

  Bruiser glanced at her watch, shoved back from her chair, and tossed her wadded napkin on top of her sandwich.

  Buzz.

  She planted a sweet, dimpled smile on her face, and both guys watched in suspicious curiosity.

  I watched, too. What was she up to?

  Gently, very ladylike, she pushed her chair in. She took her wadded napkin, folded it nice and neat, and placed it beside her plate. “Silly napkin. I’m not sure how it got so wadded.”

  I chuckled silently. I knew Bruiser, and I think I knew what she was up to.

  Batting her lashes, holding her innocent grin, she rounded the table to where Mystic sat. She ran her fingers through his short, sandy blonde hair. “I’m so fortunate you’re in my life.” Cupping his cheek, she tilted his face up to hers. “You are the best boyfriend in the whole world, and I’m so silly to have ignored your pleasant conversation.”

  She placed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for telling me I have lovely green eyes and vibrant red hair.” She traced her finger down his nose. “Yes, it is beautiful weather we’re having today.” She pressed a feathery kiss on his cheek. “And, my sweets, I slept very well last night. Thank you for asking.”

  Trailing her hand down his arm, she linked fingers with him and brought his hand to her lips. She put a soft kiss on each knuckle. “You’re right. I did download some music. Just some nature sounds to meditate by.”

  Bruiser meditate? Not likely.

  “So let’s see,” Bruiser delicately traced her finger over the top of his hand, “the list said polite conversation. Check. Act girlie and sweet. Check. Hold hands. Check. And exchange one kiss.” She let go of his hand, gently cupped his face, and placed a tender kiss to his lips. “Check.”

  “And you,” she turned to Adam, closing the small distance between them. “You should expand your menu at restaurant de Adam.” She traced her finger down his chest, poked his belly, and then pressed the blue button.

  Buzz.

  Bruiser spun on her heel, strutted straight past me, across the barn, and out the door. I watched her go, her small hips swaying in exaggeration, and then turned back to the guys.

  Neither one of them had moved from their spots, Mystic sitting and Adam standing, staring at the path Bruiser had just taken.

  I studied Adam’s face and got the distinct impression he’d just seen Bruiser in a new light. A definitely feminine, attractive light.

  I pushed myself up, remembering why I came here to begin with, and told the guys, “See ya later.” I needed to track Bruiser down for a few quick questions.

  I left the barn, saw Bruiser in the distance stepping inside the house, and took off after her.

  I heard a rustling noise to my left and whipped around. I searched the pool and the yard beyond all the way to the tree line and the fence that bordered our property. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a shadow move. “Who’s out there?” I yelled, feeling a bit silly, wishing instead I would have yelled, is it you, sister?

  Mystic stepped from the barn. “Did you say something?”

  I shook my head. “No. I keep feeling like someone’s watching me. Weird, huh?”

  “Nah, it’s not weird. It’s called the theory of shadow scrutiny. It’s your psyche, body, and spirit all speaking with your outer organization.”

  “Huh?”

  Mystic arched his arm through the air. “Basically, if you feel someone’s watching you, then someone probably is.”

  I glanced around. “My sister?”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

  “Can’t you use your psychic ability to figure it out?”

  Mystic laughed. “It doesn’t work that way, GiGi.”

  With a sigh, I turned and started back across the yard. Mystic fell into step beside me, and seconds later we entered the house.

  A giggle had me glancing right into the rec room where Beaker and Randy sat playing cards. Wait a minute, Beaker and Randy?

  She giggled. He laughed. And I narrowed my eyes. What was going on?

  Smiling, they both glanced up at me and Mystic.

  “Hey,” Beaker greeted us.

  “Hey,” we both responded.

  Randy held his cards up. “Uno. Anyone up for a game?”

  We both shook our heads, and Randy and Beaker went back to playing.

  Mystic and I continued on down the hall, past the cafeteria, rounded the corner and saw Bruiser standing with her ear to TL’s door.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  She put her finger to her lips and shook her head.

  I heard it then, TL and Nalani arguing behind his door.

  “You told me,” Nalani said, “when I got pregnant that we’d leave this life.”

  “Keep your voice down,” TL responded.

  “You told me,” Nalani repeated, her voice cracking.

  “Neither one of us,” TL pointed out, “expected you to get pregnant.”

  “And what exactly does that mean? God, Thomas, we both know you only married me because of Zandra.”

  “I was trying to do the right thing,” TL defended himself.

  “Why?” Nalani asked. “Why did you even bother marrying me?”

  Because I love you, I hoped TL would say.

  “Why?” Nalani repeated.

  He paused. “Because I wasn’t about to bring a bastard child into this world.”

  Nalani scoffed. “What, like you were? Get over it, Thomas. So you had a crappy childhood. Every one of these kids here did. I did. That’s how we met. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” TL gritted.

  “I don’t want to keep my voice down,” Nalani fired back. “I’m tired of ‘keeping my voice down.’ I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of slinking around trying to keep things secret. I want a real life now. I want to live with my husband and my daughter.”

  “We decided together,” TL came back, “that your mother should raise Zandra.”

  “And that’s a decision I’ve regretted nearly every day of Zandra’s life.”

  “Oh, yeah?” TL’s voice finally pitched loud. “How many enemies do you have?
How many enemies do I have? We chose this life early on and with that comes consequences. We couldn’t chance Zandra’s life, your life, my life. Do you think I like keeping it hidden that you’re my wife and that I have a daughter? I have to. I can’t chance that someone will take their anger for me out on you.”

  Silence.

  “Do you realize,” Nalani softly replied, “that’s the first semi-loving thing you’ve said to me in a long while.”

  More silence.

  Go to her, I willed TL. Hug her. Tell her you love her.

  “I wasn’t the one who left,” TL finally responded, his voice back low.

  Nalani sucked in a breath. “How dare you. How dare you bring that up. You know why I left. I had to.”

  “You didn’t have to do anything. I would have helped you. Between the two of us, we had the connections needed.”

  Me and Mystic and Bruiser all exchanged a curious glance. What were they talking about?

  “It’s your fault,” TL spoke, every syllable riddled with emotion. “Your fault our daughter’s gone. And I’ll never forgive you.”

  I put my hand over my mouth. Oh my God. How horrible. They loved each other. They did. I’d seen them together on missions. I’d witnessed the love. This awful thing that had happened to them was making them nasty to one another. Couldn’t they see that? They should be united over this, not driven apart.

  “My fault?” Nalani’s voice broke, and my heart hurt for her, for him, for them both. “You son of a bitch,” she cried. “How dare you blame this on me?”

  “Zandra was in your care,” TL shouted, “when she was taken.”

  “I know!” Nalani yelled back. “Don’t you think that’s killing me?”

  Her footsteps echoed across the room, and we realized too late she was heading toward the door. She wrenched it open with tears streaking her face and caught sight of all of us.

  Immediately, I felt guilty for having intruded.

  Firming her jaw, Nalani walked right past us, down the hall, and out the front door.

  Me, Mystic, and Bruiser exchanged a pained look before turning to TL.

  He stood with his back to us, staring at the wall. “Get me David,” he quietly spoke.

  The next afternoon Chapling and I walked into the conference room for our last meeting before leaving for Harry Noor. We would trial our program today.

  Around the table sat everyone involved with the mission. TL, Nalani, David, Jonathan, Mystic, Bruiser, and Red.

  Chapling and I took seats to TL’s left.

  TL closed the door and remained standing. “I am too close to this mission emotionally to run it successfully and efficiently. I’ve had an in depth discussion with David and have decided effective immediately that he is in charge. However, I’m still going on this mission. As previously outlined, I will be playing the role of trainer. I’ll also be acting as mission advisor to David, but all decisions will come from him, not me.”

  Whoa. I was totally not expecting that. I looked across the table at David’s focused expression and thought what a stressful mission to be in charge of. I mean, my God, we’re talking about TL’s daughter here.

  With a nod to David, TL sat, and David stood. “Okay, team, I am going to outline the mission and then give the floor to Chapling and GiGi.” David began walking around the table, placing green folders in front of each of us.

  I opened my folder to see a giant picture of Zandra right on top. I began leafing through the other papers—standard things we should know for the trip. Information on location, parties involved, aliases, mission details, equipment list, etcetera . . .

  David set the last folder in front of Bruiser. “First, let’s briefly recap things. Last Monday, TL and Nalani’s seven-year-old daughter, Zandra, was taken from her maternal grandmother’s home. We still have no idea what they want. TL and Nalani both have many enemies. So the kidnapper could be anybody.”

  “Myself, Mystic, and TL traveled to the abduction site,” David continued. “It was there that Mystic saw images of the Demise Chain fight club. Unfortunately, he saw no images of Zandra, but he knows without a doubt that he needs to be involved in the Demise Chain if he is going to find Zandra.” David looked at Mystic, and he nodded his agreement.

  “TL and I immediately dove into researching the Demise Chain,” David went on. “Between Red’s input and our own research, we’ve discovered a few things. First, it’s a closed club. You have to be invited in. Harry Noor is the owner of the club and the owner of a handful of fighters labeled Warriors. Recently, he put the word out that he’s looking for some new Warriors. He also put the word out he’s looking for a computer specialist to design a program that will identify top notch fighters that can be his Warriors.”

  “Obviously, the better his Warriors are, the more money Demise Chain makes.” David glanced at me and Chapling. “Additionally, this computer specialist will be able to advise his Warriors during a fight what to do differently, all based on technological physics. And that sets the ground work for the mission. GiGi and Chapling will be leaving tomorrow to interview with Harry Noor, show him their new program, and get hired on. Two days after that, Harry and his new computer specialist will be meeting and testing prospective fighters.”

  David nodded to Mystic. “Mystic and I will show up with our personal trainers, Jonathan and TL. GiGi and Chapling will have their program rigged to identify Mystic and I as top notch fighters. Harry Noor will bring us in as Warriors, and we will officially become Demise Chain competitors.”

  David turned his attention to Nalani and Bruiser. “Now for the ladies. There are no women fighters allowed. And the only way ladies are allowed in the audience is if they are on the arm of an invited guest. However, fighters are allowed to have wives and girlfriends at their sides. Bruiser will be traveling as Mystic’s girlfriend, but clearly, her role is our fighting consultant. All of us will be wearing hidden communicative devices. Mystic and I will be counting on her to coach us through our actual fights, along with the input from the Combat Thrash Program.”

  “Nalani has already secured a job within Demise Chain as the hostess. She will be our one inside person, serving as back up, on guard for anything that might happen. Because of their personal connection to this mission, Nalani and TL are the only two who will be in disguise.” David rolled his chair out and took a seat. “Once Mystic starts interacting with the fighters, he’ll know what our next move is, who has Zandra, and where she is. Obviously, we’ll regroup and go from there.”

  “The format of Demise Chain,” David continued, “is that fighters go up against each other, the winners move on to the next round, and so forth. By the end of the night there is a grand winner who is awarded the purse. Currently there are six Warriors. They all fight each other as well as the visiting competitors. Harry Noor could care less who wins, just as long as it is one of his Warriors.”

  “Red is going to be here at home base ready to give input as needed.” David opened his folder. “Now for aliases. Jonathan will be Trainer Jones. TL, Trainer Tim. Nalani, hostess Nan. Bruiser, girlfriend Bee-bee. I’ll be Warrior Daniel. Mystic, Warrior Michael. Chapling, computer specialist Charlie. And GiGi, computer specialist Gertrude.”

  Gertrude? I nearly rolled my eyes. What a horrible name.

  David looked around the room. “Before I turn things over to our computer team, are there any questions?”

  Chapling raised a pudgy finger. “Um . . . what if something goes wrong? I mean, there’re not a lot of definitive details here. Who’s to say GiGi and I are going to sufficiently wow Harry Noor with our brilliance? I mean, well, of course we’re brilliant, but do you all not see this whole mission hinges on us?”

  “And,” he continued rattling, “if we don’t secure that job, the whole thing is down the drain. What do we do then? Huh? Huh? Okay, and if we do, by some act of God, get the job, our program might have a glitch in it and not identify Mystic and David as top notch fighters.”

  Chapling glanced a
t me. “Not to say our program will have a glitch.”

  “It won’t,” I assured him.

  “Oh!” He threw his hands up, completely ignoring my reassurance. “And once Mystic gets his next image, what are we all going to do? Just walk out of there? And what about our trainers, TL and Jonathan? What if Harry Noor doesn’t allow them?”

  “And—”

  “Chapling,” I interrupted, “everything’s going to be okay.” Sheesh, he reminded me of me. This was what I must look like in one of my frantic states. “I know the mission isn’t cemented and certain things hinge on other things, but that’s just the way it goes. You can’t know for sure what’s going to happen every second. You just sort of roll with it and have the confidence it’ll succeed.”

  “But . . .” Chapling’s voice trailed off, and then a few seconds later he blew out a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. Okayokay.” He gave everybody a guilty shrug. “It’s my first mission.”

  “You’ll be fine,” TL spoke.

  I reached over and rubbed Chapling’s back. “You’ll be fine,” I whispered.

  “Plus, Chap, we’ll have several more briefings. One when you get done meeting with Harry Noor, another one after Warriors tryouts, another one when Mystic sees what he needs to see. There’ll be plenty of communication throughout the different stages of this mission.” David closed his folder. “At this time I’d like to turn things over to our computer team.”

  Chapling and I both pushed back from the table and made our way over to the wall inserted flat screen.

  “Daisy,” Chapling addressed our ranch’s main computer. “Show time.”

  GREETINGS, she typed in big bold letters across the center of the wall screen.

  I turned to our team. “Tomorrow we’re meeting with Harry Noor. Some of the world’s best program designers will be there, too. The competition will be tough.”

  “But,” Chapling interrupted. “Smart girl here hacked into all their computers and knows what fighting program they’ve all designed.”