HARD CASE (A John Harding Novel - Special Ops, Cage Fighter, CIA Agent)

by Bernard L. DeLeo

  We went at it the rest of the round in frenzied fashion. Abdul impressed me with the number of rules he broke in five minutes. He tried low blows with both feet and fists, eye gouges, and throat strikes. My counter punches and kicks landed solidly because Abdul concentrated so hard on his no-holds-barred offense his defense suffered. By the end of the round the Slayer’s breath was a bit labored and he had a cut over his right eye. The bell rang. He of course waited to see if I’d turn my back. I smiled and waved at him while backing to my corner.

  My crew waited with wet towels and a bottled water Jafar must have had to borrow from someone in the crowd. We didn’t normally stop for anything so this was new ground. Tommy took my mouthpiece out and I drank a swallow while Jafar tilted the bottle.

  “You got him good with the heel kick, brother,” Jesse told me as he worked my shoulders.

  “He drops his right when he kicks, John,” Dev added. “He recovers quick like he knows he messed up but the lag time is still there.”

  Damn, I didn’t notice that. “Thanks Dev.”

  “Every time he’s getting ready to do something against the rules he hunches his shoulders,” Tommy said, popping my mouthpiece back in.

  I nod my thanks and get ready as they hustle out of the cage. Good thing too, because the bell no sooner rang than Abdul rushed me. I only partially blocked the flying knee which clips me in the temple. Stars explode behind my eyeballs. In a split second we’re on the mat with him on top. His speed going for eyes and throat strikes while maintaining control in full mount had me focusing all my attention on survival. For nearly two minutes I’m grappling and guarding while all I get from my crew behind me is ‘get up, John’. I hear Jafar start insulting Abdul’s mother in Arabic which didn’t help the Slayer’s attitude.

  I’m frustrating him. His full mount is as good as I’ve ever experienced. Contrary to popular belief, defending against a pro from full and half guard usually ends badly. Abdul goes for it, choking me with his left hand while going for a strike with his right. I grabbed his left wrist, forced it across to his right while pinning his right leg with my left foot. Off and over to his side went Abdul with his left arm trapped under us. I smash a forearm into his left temple, getting ready to pummel him with about fifty more when the ref leaps in between us. He stands us up and takes another point away from me for a throat strike. This time not only do my guys scream in protest, scattered boos ring out from the crowd. I’m just glad to get the hell out from under him. The Slayer had mangled my left ear and I could feel blood trickling down from a cut in my scalp.

  The ref signals us to fight again. Abdul instantly launches another flying knee. This time I’m ready. I catch his right knee while shooting out a right leg strike with the side of my foot into his straight left leg just below the knee. He tumbles to his right and leaps up before I can catch him. The Slayer tries a roundhouse kick to my head. As Dev noticed, his left arm goes down. I partially block his right leg kick, going with the force of the strike, and pivoting into a straight right to his head. I ring his bell. He stumbles back into the cage and my flying knee gets him a little high in the chest but it still scores hard enough to draw an anguished gasp. Abdul goes into full flight with me following carefully with punches and kicks. The round ends before I can really deal him some pain. This time he turns his back on me and trudges to his corner without another look. I can tell the ref doesn’t know what to do. He’s looking off into the crowd somewhere as if to get a signal while I back away to my guys.

  “Don’t let that punk take you down again, John,” Jesse screams at me from behind as he starts toweling me off. The cool wetness is like heaven. Tommy takes my mouthpiece out while Dev puts pressure with a peroxide gauze pad on my head cut.

  “I’m not lettin’ him do anything, Jess. Hey, kid, could you hold off on the insults while Sammy Steroid is pummeling me please.”

  “Sorry, John.” Jafar gives me a sip of water.

  I trade bemused looks with Tommy. I go for the ‘Rocky’ imitation. “Cut me, Mick… cut me.”

  Tommy laughs and shoves my mouthpiece back in. “You better get busy pal. That fuckin’ referee will use any excuse to stop it, including that little cut on your head.”

  Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. Okay then. The bell rings but Abdul ain’t rushin’ across to blister me with hands, knees, or feet. He advances slowly, hands up, and body turned sideways. Tommy hit it right on the nose. Abdul starts jabbing at my head. That’s when I get the idea. My idea depended on me being able to absorb one of his right hands. I move in and fire a couple of wicked hooks to his body, leaving an opening for his right. Quick as a snake he nailed me with a right that I didn’t have to pretend much going down to the mat on.

  I rolled to my back, hands flayed out over my head like he’d caught me a good one. The crowd roars approval because bad match or not, they had their money on him. Abdul drops down on me in full mount, elbow leading for a maiming blow. I block it at the last second. He starts raining blows down on me which I counter by putting both my arms tight in over my face. When he throws a right hook to get around my guard I snake my left arm around his right and grab my right wrist as I lock his leg and roll. In UFC I’d go for a real hurtful hammer lock and the match would end in a submission win. Instead, I rolled full bore and broke the Slayer’s arm. He screamed in agony. I didn’t wait to get sapped or bludgeoned by the ref. I got the hell up and got ready with my crew going nuts, screamin’ and yellin’ in jubilation. The ref eyeballed me, glancing off to the crowd and the judges’ table, but there wasn’t much to be done.

  Abdul’s corner rushed in yelling at me in Arabic but my guys had that shit covered. They came in hard, strong, and ready. Jafar unleashed a torrent of bad mouthin’ gems with Tommy, Jesse, and Dev backing his play from between me and them. Meanwhile, poor old Abdul the Terrible is writhing around on the mat crying in agony. The med techs finally rushed in to help him while Abdul’s crew realized the better part of valor would be to turn their attention to Abdul. To his credit, Jim Bonasera entered the cage as the microphone was lowered to the center area. He held up my right arm and announced me the winner by technical knockout. There were even a few scattered cheers and very little booing.

  We waited until Abdul was taken out on a stretcher with his crew giving us death stares. I waited for one of them to make a throat slitting gesture because I would have given the crowd a real treat then. I was so pumped up I wanted all of them. I thought about bringin’ the Dark Lord out and doing the robot right there in the cage, but then I remembered Tommy’s threat about cappin’ me if I did. I cleaned up in the cage while the guys watched my back. Dev put a gauze pad over my ear loaded with antibiotic cream and then added a large band-aid over my scalp cut. Tommy left to collect our money with Jesse and Jafar.

  Dev checked the rest of me for damage. “Did you fake goin’ down?”

  “Sorta.”

  “If he’d landed that damn elbow you’d have been dead, brother.”

  I grin and nod.

  “I saw your face when you broke that prick’s arm. You smiled.”

  “Did not.” Yeah, I did.

  Dev laughed, clapping me on the back. “Oh, you so did. C’mon, it looks like Tommy’s got our winnings.”

  “I’m cuttin’ you guys in for an extra two large out of my share.”

  “I won’t turn it down. We celebratin’?”

  “Yeah, but remember, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving.”

  “Sweet mother of mercy! I blanked out about everything. I’m sippin’ a few with you no matter what though.”

  We sent the reluctant Jafar home. It was party time at the Warehouse Bar & Grill. Earl, ‘Rique, and Jeff beat us over there, having left as soon as they cleared the crowd out. There had been no sign of Ray Alexander or Abdul’s flock after the cage cleared. The judges had disappeared the moment they saw bone showing out of Abdul’s arm. I received a surprise standing ovation when I walked in with the guys. The OPD from the fight met me at the door,
all smiles. Earl handed me a Bud and Beam. We all walked to the bar where Marla gave me a hug hello before scooting around furnishing drinks for everyone.

  “An appreciative fan’s left word with Marla the drinks are on the house, John. I think you may know him: Alexi Fiialkov,” ‘Rique told me.

  “I heard he made a bundle.” I toasted my crew and downed the double Beam with gusto. After watching me suck down my Bud chaser, Marla plopped refills down immediately. “I saw you, Jeff, and ‘Rique keeping an eye on the fight crowd from out of town, Earl. Thanks. It did cross my mind they might decide on protesting the fight outside.”

  “That was our thought too,” Jeff replied. “I called in a patrol car to do a round-robin until everyone took off. If I were you I’d grow some eyes in the back of my head. Those folks were pissed. I saw their guy’s arm when they rolled him out. He ain’t fightin’ with that thing again.”

  I’m real broke up. “Sucks to be him.”

  My adlib drew laughs from everyone within earshot. ‘Rique and Jeff head for the door.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, John. We have to take off,” Earl tells me as he follows them.

  “You still owe me drinks, piker.” Earl gives me an acknowledging wave with his right middle finger on the way out.

  A few moments later we’re all sipping and listening to music when I see Marla look toward the door. I glanced over and what do you know. It’s Denny. He spots us and trades friendly words with my crew before angling in next to me where Dev gives him room. He orders a double Bushmills and takes a sip before speaking.

  “Hell of a fight, John. It’s up on YouTube already. Someone pirated it off the Al Jazeera signal and uploaded it. Was that the set up it looked like?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Did you find out why yet?”

  “Sort of. That shithead Alexander, one of the promoters, hates my guts. I thought we had a business relationship worked out but he took a big hit betting against me in my last fight. He thought he had everything set in stone for this fight. Guess who he lost a bundle to on this one – Fiialkov. I learned that’s who he lost to last time too.”

  “No shit?” Denny’s impressed. “You and Fiialkov are having quite the romance.”

  “He left orders for drinks on the house in here and didn’t even stay. Think he’s sweet on me?”

  Denny laughed before leaning even closer. “Your boat’s ready and we can’t wait for the Dubai cover. I put the word out we had something planned with the parameters to my boss once I inspected the boat. It looks good… real good. Anyway, the next day I was sitting in front of the Director. They don’t know whether to shit or go blind over these pirates. They want something substantial right now with no threads back to them.”

  “How soon.”

  “Two weeks. I know you’re engaged and all but the boat’s on its way already. They want the hook baited for two weeks when in position. Anything goes other than discovery if you get a bite. You’ll be back for Christmas… unless of course something tragic happens to your new boat.”

  “You want intel or just a body count?”

  “Both. They’d like you to light up a few targets for obliteration too.”

  I smiled because I liked it. “I’ll tie up some loose ends in my business this week. When you’re ready, give me a call. Think I should take Jafar with me?”

  “I’m all for it. He’s a natural. The more experience he gets, the better. He proved himself on the Chardin boarding at the Marina. How’d you do convincing Karim’s old man Jafar would make a great addition to the family?”

  “Not very well, but Samira will probably sell him on Jafar. Badee knows if Samira wants to marry Jafar nothing short of an honor killing would stop her, and he ain’t like that. Speaking of Chardin, have you extracted all you want from him, and secondly, are you keeping track of his daughter.”

  “No, and yes.”

  “I’m going to kill you first before Chardin gets me if he breaks loose, buddy.”

  Denny laughed because he thinks I’m kidding. After finishing his drink off, he stands up. “Have a nice Thanksgiving, John. See you later.”

  Tommy moves next to me while I’m watching Denny walk out. “Boy, Lora’s family will love you tomorrow.”

  Crap! “Gee, thanks T. I could have done without that reminder. I don’t look that bad, right Jess?”

  “Whatever you say, brother.”

  “Can you pretend it’s Halloween and wear your Dark Lord mask?” Dev asks me, trying unsuccessfully to keep from laughing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Pirates

  I knocked on Lora’s door at precisely one o’clock PM. I had on black dress pants and shoes, along with a black sweater top. Lora answered the door. Her smile went from zero to gasp in a split second. Alice, who had been following her, looked up at me with wide eyes and wide open mouth. Granted, there had been a little swelling and discoloration but I didn’t think I looked that bad. I think it was mostly the bandages.

  “Hello… it’s the Dark Lord,” I announced in Dark Lord voice, which drew an immediate giggle from Alice.

  “Tess already showed us the fight on YouTube you neglected to mention, Dark Lord.”

  Uh oh. “How the hell did-”

  “Apparently, she stopped over at her old law firm yesterday and heard about it. They knew it would be on YouTube and Tess checked it out this morning before showing it to all of us for breakfast.”

  “I didn’t want you worrying about it with your family visiting so we kept it on the down-low. I was going to explain. I didn’t know I’d get marked up quite this much so I guess the YouTube showing saves me some time. Can I come in or do you want me to remain incommunicado until your guests leave?”

  Lora hugged me. “Hell no, I don’t want you to leave. I’m just glad you’re still in one piece. At least Tess had the good sense to get Alice in her room before showing it. It was filmed in HD, and that guy’s scream when you broke his arm nearly put my Mom in a coma.”

  Alice grabbed my hand, yanking on it excitedly. “Can I see the fight, John? Pleassssseeeeeee…”

  I walked them both inside and Lora closed the door. “I don’t think so, kid. It’s pretty bad, like your Mom said. I’m sorry Grandma watched it. It was a setup, Lora. I would have lost on points or the ref was under orders to stop it by declaring a technical knockout for Abdul. I had to make it so he couldn’t go on.”

  “You certainly took care of that,” Lora declared, taking my windbreaker off my shoulders. Did you drive over?”

  “Jafar dropped me off on his way to Thanksgiving with his folks. I hear tell his Dad’s got a job and has stopped drinking. Jafar’s going over to see if it’s true.”

  “Did you get plastered last night at the Warehouse?”

  “First off, the Dark Lord never gets plastered. Secondly, I only had a taste when Denny Buzz-Kill came in to visit. We’ll discuss that later. Were you going to offer me refreshments?”

  “Everyone’s in the kitchen having a glass of wine while we cook. Cal liked the fight. He was rooting for you before Tess elbowed him in the side. She’s pissed because she couldn’t get the reaction out of me she’d hoped for. The wine has softened her up though and Mom’s color is better.”

  “I’ll have a glass with you. C’mon, Al. Let’s go see what kind of trouble the Dark Lord can get into today.”

  Alice immediately played along, dropping her head and coming to attention. “Yes, Dark Lord.”

  She cracked me up as always because Alice looked so much like her Mom and she mimicked Lora perfectly. We walked into the kitchen together. Cal stood up and shook my hand enthusiastically.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that fight, John. I’m glad you won. How much do you get for something like that?”

  “My partner and I cleared nearly thirty-five grand for last night’s fight. It could have been a disaster because my opponent had the ref and the judges on the payroll. Those back alley type fights I’ve fought in the past take place in
an open area and they end when one of the fighters can’t go on. This Abdul the Terrible’s backers fixed up the Oakland warehouse and installed a new cage. In payment, he got to transmit the video overseas in a type of pay-per-view and bring in his own judges and ref.”

  Cal grinned. “That didn’t work out too well for him.”

  “I think they made a bundle on the transmission, but I don’t know if Abdul will be able to make a comeback.” I accepted a glass of wine from Lora.

  “That was horrifying!” Lora’s Mom exclaimed.

  “It’s really not a sport meant for more refined tastes, Marian,” I replied with what I hoped sounded like deference.

  Tess made a noise that could have been a snort or a gasp, walking around the table with her wine glass. “It’s no sport, John, and you damn well know it! It’s more like gladiators in a Roman arena.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. I should have rethought the sport label. “You’re right, Tess. Since it was so horrifying maybe you could explain to all of us why you needed to show it to everyone.”

  Lora laughed, Alice giggled, and Tess turned tomato red. “I…I wanted my Mom to see for herself what kind of-”

  “Monster I am,” I finished for her. “Look, why don’t we have a toast to the holiday and talk about what you and Cal do. Then we can have a nice Thanksgiving dinner and take a walk together or something.”

  “That’s a great idea, John.” Cal held up his glass and we joined him, even the reluctant Tess and Marian, and of course Alice with her sparkling cider. “To family.”

  “To family,” we all echoed the sentiment, and just like that, I became part of the family… sort of.

  Later, Lora and I washed dishes up while the others played a Memory game with Alice. It had been pretty pleasant so far after the small dust up earlier. “I have to go overseas in a couple weeks, babe.”

  Fear rushed across Lora’s face for a moment as she looked up at me from the dishes. “How long?”