Chapter 7
“Where the hell is she?” Captain Mert roared, as he held Sinza her tightly by the throat. “Tell me which way she went girlie, or I’ll snap your throat like a twig!” He roared so forcefully that his spittle flew into her face.
“I-don’t-know,” Sinza’s wheezed. “She…she…”
Mert threw the young woman roughly to the floor.
“She…she what?”
Sinza gasped like a fish out of water, trying to get her breath back. She rubbed her larynx while staring daggers at the guard captain.
Mert stared right back, before becoming annoyed at her silent insolence.
“C’mon, out with it, tough girl!”
Panting as she spoke, the raven-haired woman replied, “She was mad at me cuz I called her a fool for going after you. She told me that if she couldn’t find you, she would go to the Arena to look. Then we had a fight. When I tried to stop her, she used her Initiator powers and knocked me out. The next thing I knew, your goons were standing over me when you walked in.”
Mert grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her off the floor. He carefully looked at her face, examining the injuries there. The young Commando has a large bruise on her forehead with a small cut dripping blood onto her shoulder. She also had a bump on the back of her head. Meanwhile, Sinza endured his scrutiny, fervently praying that the injuries she had inflicted upon herself would be convincing enough. Hell, it was bad enough bumping her head against the wall, but smacking that friggin’ lamp against her own forehead hurt like hell!
Turning to his right, he barked at his sergeant standing nearby. “Fergus, tell, me exactly what happened, and what you saw when you got here!”
“Well her story seems to check out sir,” a tall bespectacled, guard spoke up. “We were making our way here for the change of shift when we found the injured men underneath the door. The way it was torn off its hinges and the bowing of the wood is consistent with Initiator Force Applications. When we walked into this room, we found the woman, semi-conscious at the far side, against the wall. Judging by the way the furniture was pushed aside, along with various types of debris, and the shards of the lamp on the floor next to her, it’s obvious that the blonde woman used her IFA to hurl the lamp against this woman’s forehead. She then fell back against the wall, bumping her head, and slumped to the floor.”
Sinza kept her face passive, but her heart leaped within her chest. Somehow she knew that the guards would buy her story. She had seen enough of Galicia’s handiwork to know what to do. So after her friend left the room, she had worked quickly to arrange the furniture just right, throwing a few loose items against the wall where she eventually sat after staging her own injuries. It was painful, but a small price to pay if it aided in their eventual escape.
“Bah, she’s useless,” Mert spat as he thrust Sinza away from him. She fell heavily to the floor once again but said nothing. He looked disappointed, but then a sly smile crept across his rugged face.
“I wondered why you two skirts didn’t leave together when you had the chance. It was a lover’s spat.”
He roared with laughter at his joke, joined in by a few of the men. “Well, have no fear girlie. I will find your girlfriend, and when I do, her and I are gonna have a re-e-al good time together. I’m gonna show her what it’s like to be with a real man. Then when I’m done with her, I’ll send her back here for you to play with. That ought to be fun to watch.”
The raucous laughter continued until a young Courier of the Games ran into the room breathless. He was ruddy, of medium build and looked to be barely 18, dressed in a white Page outfit with gold trim, complete with brown leather sandals; a clothing style from a time gone by.
“Captain Mert, the Mistress is calling for the dark-haired female to fight next in the Arena,” he panted.
The Guard Captain had a huge dislike for these “couriers.” Athena liked to have good looking young boys around to do her bidding, but to Mert, they reminded him of the little foo-foo dogs that he would see in the more well-to-do parts of Babylon. Their prancing owners seemed to take delight in dressing them up in embarrassing costumes. The very thought of it made him sicken with disgust.
Adopting a sarcastic tone, he clicked his tongue while looking at Sinza.
“Aww, too bad. The tough little girlie won’t be able to see her girlfriend ever again. What a shame.”
To the young man, he growled, “Look messenger boy, you tell the Mistress she’ll be ready. Now get the hell outta here, and let the real men do their jobs!”
The messenger needed no prompting to leave. Knowing Captain Mert’s reputation, the cell block was the last place he wanted to be. The slapping of leather sandals echoed down the hall, as the Courier fled from his presence.
Walking over to the locker in the room, Mert reached in and pulled out a small bundle. With a deft move, he tossed the package right into Sinza’s lap.
“Put it on, right here, right now!” He roared. “And no complaints. If you make even one move against me or my men, you will be shot down on the spot.”
As if to emphasize his words, the five guardsmen raised their weapons and pulled back the bolts at the same time, before aiming them at the raven-haired commando.
Forcing herself to look fearful and defeated, Sinza slowly stood up from the floor. No one could tell that she actually felt a sense of triumph. These idiots had no clue that the Arena was where she wanted to be in the first place. The fact that the guard captain was trying to humiliate her by having her undress in front of his men was an afterthought. She was not going to give that pompous ass the satisfaction of showing any discomfort.
At the same time, the mention of Galicia caused her stomach to knot up. The fact that she was still at large provided her a bit of relief that her partner was alive and well. Still, this was a dangerous game that the two of them were playing, and the thought of Galicia being killed in their attempt to escape would be more than she could bear.
Hearing a sound, she looked and saw that the monitor was still on, blaring the cheers of the spectators at the gladiatorial contest into the room. Sure enough, Galicia’s sister was still fighting. She looked pretty battered, but she was still alive. She raised an eyebrow as the redhead suddenly dove aside, just as the armored giant rammed into the metal retaining wall. The way she moved was impressive. Maybe there would be a chance to save her after all.
Without a second thought, she slipped her shirt off, revealing small tanned breasts with dark areolas and very large nipples, which caused a few of the men to gasp aloud. Pointedly ignoring them, she continued to go through the motions of changing into the skimpy outfit, making sure to activate the tiny signal emitter hidden in her ear, while they were distracted. It had been quite a while now since the breakout, and Sinza ardently hoped that Galicia had reached the CCE generator by now. Everything depended on it.
Several feet away, a different energy was being generated.
The guardsmen were clearly aroused at the sight of bare female flesh. Captain Mert grinned like a hyena as he watched the athletic woman step out of her clothes. He silently cursed himself for not having his way with this one, Mistress or no Mistress. Although she wasn’t as soft as the blonde, she was definitely a looker. He glanced over at his men who were clearly enjoying the view.
“Well, lads looks like we’ve got ourselves a nice little show.”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” and “yeah boss” filled the air, as the men voiced their agreement while they watched. Finally, the woman had finished and the show was over, although, in the minds of the men, it had ended all too soon.
Sinza was clad in an outfit similar to the one Laurina was currently wearing in the Arena, except her costume was bright blue, and trimmed with gold lace. The tight belt rode low on her hips while the absurdly small blue chest straps were tight enough to restrict her breathing.
“I look like a fuckin’ space whore,” she swore when she caught sight of herself in a nearby mirror.
> “I think it suits you quite well girlie,” Captain Mert sneered.
Sinza eyes flashed at the insult. She had restrained herself for so long from saying anything hostile to the big man, but she couldn’t take his verbal abuse any longer.
“You better hope to God that I die in that Arena,” she said. “Because the next time I see you, you are a dead man!”
Mert raised an eyebrow at her outburst, before breaking into guffaws of laughter. His men joined in as well, knowing that they had better for their own sake, filling the room with their scorn. Sinza seethed at their laughter but said nothing. Finally, Mert regained his breath and wiped tears from his eyes.
“Girlie, that was the best laugh I’ve had all day. Tell you what, if you do manage to somehow survive your match, I’ll arrange a little tussle between the two of us, winner takes all. And believe me,” he lowered his voice and gave her a knowing look. “I will take all!”
The guard captain turned and roared at his men.
“What are you louts standing around for? The show’s over. Secure the little wench and bring her to the Arena!”
“Yes sir!” the men exclaimed.
Seconds later a cordon of men with a manacled Sinza in their midst, exited the room, followed closely behind by Captain Mert. The now empty room was silent except for the cheering of the Arena spectators on the monitor.
Chapter 8
The Arena crowd was howling for blood as Praetor kicked the nearly limp form of the woman from the Carbon World again and again. Laurina seemed to be insulated within herself. She had become deathly feverish when the strange heat that was building inside of her body suddenly erupted into a conflagration. The elusive jolts of electricity that she had previously felt only in spurts crackled within her like the prelude to a storm. A moment later raw power flowed through her veins, healing every cut and abrasion so quickly that her skin didn’t have time to scab up. Her weakness disappeared, and the same euphoric strength that she felt while bounding from rooftop to rooftop in “Brooklyn” suddenly filled her to bursting.
Praetor had kicked the woman so many times that his panting breath could be heard through his visor like the sound of a slow-moving locomotive. He had finally tired of this sport, and it was time to finish this young upstart female once and for all. The silver giant grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. Somehow he seemed to meet more resistance than what should be normal, and he could feel a change in this woman through his metal-gloved hand. Instinct inside told him that he needed to act quickly. Still holding the woman tightly, he cocked his silver fist, reared his arm back and swung hard enough to deliver a devastating blow.
He was too late.
It’s back! The power is back! Not just drips and drabs either but the full Monty. Bloody hell! I feel like I can do anything! I can beat this monster. I can…..aaaahhhhhhh!
Filled to bursting from the strange virtue inside of her, Laurina Hawks let out a terrible scream, reached out and caught the Praetor’s fist in mid-air, halting his arm’s advance. A collective gasp went through the crowd, and like a door slamming shut, every person in the Arena fell instantly silent. Laurina grabbed and twisted his thumb with her right hand, freeing her neck from the warrior’s grasp. Facing the construct while tightly holding the fist he had thrown at her, she looked directly into his eyes and smiled.
The armored warrior was stunned!
“Impossible!” he grunted aloud.
He was Praetor, the champion, the Lord of the Arena, reigning supreme since the Games first began! From the start of his career, he had fought and defeated the biggest, most fearsome contestants that were put in front of him. Yet somehow his opponent absorbed the force of his punch as if he were only a child.
“How can this puny female suddenly match me strength for strength?”
He tried to pull his fist from her grasp, but she held it firm. He pulled once again, but still, he couldn’t move. Then in one smooth motion, Laurina slipped around Praetor’s side, tucking his arm behind his back, and heaved the man over her head and across the battle floor. This time it was Praetor who was sent hurtling through the air, landing with a loud metallic crash on the battle floor, his spiked shoulders gouging deep furrows in the sand like a farmer’s plow. The crowd of people witnessing this monumental event was amazed at the red headed woman’s sudden recovery and show of power, wondering at its cause. There was no evidence of multi-hued clouds hanging in the air, nor spangles of flashing lights in view, as had occurred when Athena interceded for Lil’ Doro.
“Did you see that?” a burly machinist still in coveralls cried out.
“She threw Praetor like he was nothing. Incredible!” exclaimed a woman in a yellow hat and garish purple makeup.
“And nobody buffed her!” called a man with a pockmarked face, staring at the scene in disbelief.
“Yah,” a drunken elderly man blurted, while unintentionally slopping his cup of beer onto the floor due to his amazement.
“Twern’t no colors in the air neither.”
The young Brit calmly walked over to where her golden katana lay, lifted it from the dirt with her right hand and advanced steadily toward her opponent. As she moved, she held the blade downward, diagonally extended from her right side as a Samurai might. A grimace of hatred spread over Laurina's lips as she observed the downed Praetor desperately trying to get to his feet.
Now it’s this blighter’s turn to feel some pain.
Momentarily stunned by the impact of his awkward landing on the Arena floor, Praetor quickly came to his senses, shaking off the last of the cobwebs as he watched the woman advance toward him. Suddenly he became enraged by the sheer folly of his predicament. He was fully aware that no matter how impossible it seemed, the tide of battle had turned against him. If he didn’t do something soon, this puny female would defeat him, and his life would be forfeit. A dark shape caught the corner of his eye, and with a start, he realized that his battle ax was laying two yards away, still embedded in the sand and Plascrete where he had left it. With a savage roar, the armored gladiator staggered to his knees, dove to where his weapon lay and freed it from the floor. Rolling quickly to his feet, he regained his balance and charged toward his opponent, intent on cutting her down once and for all. Seeing the charge, Laurina quickened her pace toward him while matching his speed. The spectators held their collective breath as they waited for the imminent collision with great anticipation. The huge ax sliced through the air, its keen edge glittering in the light as it closed mere inches from her neck. A second later, the gladiator found himself swinging through empty air.
As Praetor continued to follow through with his swing, Laurina suddenly appeared on his right side. Deftly, while his arms were extended, she slid the slim blade of her katana under his armpit and into the weak point between the folds of his armor. The sharp blade cut deeply into his flesh, as she plunged it into his side. The giant roared in pain as the young woman forced the golden blade all the way to the hilt, before quickly withdrawing it from his body.
The spectators cried out in amazement. For the first time ever, Praetor had been wounded! A sparkling, silver-white fluid poured from the wound, glittering like liquid diamonds in the artificial lights of the Arena. Solid bits of blue, red and yellow were also evident, as the big man’s lifeblood flowed from his body in a gory trickle of rainbow.
Surprise and hot anger shook his massive body as Praetor realized that the sword thrust from this puny woman had left him badly wounded. Staggering backward, he clutched his wound desperately while trying to create a bit of distance between himself and his opponent. Using his left hand, the shiny warrior reared back, and with all his strength, hurled his huge battle ax at her.
The roar of the crowd had almost reached a crescendo as sharp metal death hurtled through the air toward its target, but the now amplified Laurina watched in fascination as the weapon approached her. From the redhead’s perspective, the ax was spinning through the air in slow motion, as if her body’s senses had either
become hyper-accelerated, or she was somehow able to control the weapon’s rate of revolution on an unconscious level. It was both eerie and strangely exciting to her ears to hear the slicing sound the ax produced, as each revolution of the spinning metal blade cut through the air. What’s more, she could actually see every inch of it, not only the outside but the inside of it as well. In fact, she could discern the composition of the dark metal, all the way down to the microscopic level, marveling at how well it had been crafted. She could even see its one flaw, a small pit at the blade’s edge.
As time began to accelerate again, she withdrew her unconscious Knowing of the ax and reached out with her right hand. In one smooth motion, Laurina Hawks slapped the huge weapon from the air, changing the trajectory of its flight and directing the handle so that the blade buried itself into the sand and Plascrete at her feet. Up close, the black ax stood tall enough to match her own height, and its blade was wider than she could spread out her arms. Using little effort, Laurina plucked it from the sand and tossed it aside like a toothpick.
Praetor's eyes widened within the slit of his helmet. For the first time in his life, he experienced true fear.
“Holy shit!”
Sinza Flanagan couldn’t believe her eyes as she caught a glimpse of the scene that was unfolding from where she stood. Having newly arrived at the combatant’s entrance of the Arena, judging from the roar of the crowd, she had fully expected to be greeted by the sight of the huge construct about to finish off Galicia’s sister. Instead, not only was she still alive, but she had turned the tide of the contest in dominant fashion. She had even forced the Arena champion to back away from her! Sinza shook her head in wonder.
Hawks Effect_Dangerous Reunion Page 5
