by Terry Toler
Jamie was encouraged by the man’s skill level, or lack thereof. They weren’t too concerned about her or they would have sent someone with more abilities. Jamie thought he was the only one but decided to give it some time to make sure.
She strolled casually down the street, looking in windows, pretending to be shopping. His reflection in the window was what she mainly wanted to see. Did he have a radio? If he did, he could call ahead and hand Jamie off to another person and then drop off, so she didn’t see the same person more than once. She had to be satisfied he was surveilling her alone. Many unskilled operatives lost a tail and didn’t realize it was on purpose, and the officers let their guards down, not realizing someone else ahead had taken up the surveillance.
While there was nothing extraordinary about her tail, he was trying so hard not to be seen, he was actually easy to see.
Jamie started walking again with more purpose, convinced she could easily lose him. He was across the street, lagging behind, struggling to keep up. Jamie noticed a bus stop on the next corner with a bus loading and getting ready to leave. She picked up her pace, and at the exact moment when the bus was between her and the tail, she ducked into a store. She quickly made her way to the back of the store to another entrance, or exit in this case, and walked out into a back alley.
The tail would be confused. He wouldn’t know if she got on the bus, went into the store, or kept walking and went around the corner. He might be suspicious that she’d lost him on purpose, but he couldn’t prove it, and he certainly wasn’t going to say so to his supervisor. More than likely, he was going to say that she got on the bus, and he couldn’t get on it without being detected, so he let her go.
Jamie hid in the shadows for a moment, watching the back entrance, making sure he didn’t follow her. When she was satisfied, she set off walking again. She was off her route and wasn’t sure exactly where she was. She stepped into an alleyway between buildings and pulled out her map to get her bearings.
She didn’t notice until it was too late that that four young men had her surrounded.
6
The four young men appeared to be in their late teens, early twenties, medium to slight builds, and all of them were wearing the same color black leather jacket similar to what gangs in the US wore. There were no insignias on the front, so it didn’t seem like they were actual gang members. Jamie surmised they were some kids trying to act tougher than they really were. They were probably as surprised as she was that she happened upon them. One of the young men said in Russian, “Hey, pretty lady.”
She pretended she didn’t understand him and contorted her face to look confused.
They tightened the circle around her.
Oh great. This is just what I need. I’m already late, and these idiots are going to make me even later.
She put the map in her front pocket. She was wearing black stretch jeans, thin for maximum maneuverability. A dark-colored, light, long sleeve turtleneck sweater came down slightly below her waist and was covered by a thin, dark jacket. Her black shoes with a slight heel were designed like sneakers but with a dressier look. The all black look made it harder for her to be seen at night, if the need arose.
Jamie glanced at her watch. She still had time to make it for the meeting with her contact but was starting to cut it close. Her concern was more for missing the meeting than the four to-one-odds confronting her. She’d been in much worse situations than this, against much more formidable foes. In fact, a quick assessment eased Jamie’s mind that these were not organized gang members.
On the plane, she’d read about an ongoing war between Belarusian and Russian gangs. A firebomb had recently been set by a gang in front of the Russian embassy, starting a street war. While the authorities had tamped it down, Jamie didn’t want to get in the middle of one of those battles. She was convinced the four in front of her would never pass the initiation into one of those hard-core gangs.
“Where are you from, pretty lady?” he said sarcastically. “Are you from the US of A? Are you going to make my day?”
Jamie laughed out loud. This guy thought he was Clint Eastwood. This is about to become the worst day of your life.
“What’s so funny, pretty lady?” the obvious leader of the little gang of misfits said.
Maybe I can talk my way out of this.
In her mind, she processed all her options and narrowed it down to two. She could act tough and perhaps scare them away. However, four against-one were strong odds, and they were probably feeling pretty good about their chances. They didn’t realize the odds were highly in her favor. Jamie rejected that strategy. If she challenged their manhood, they might feel like they had to fight to save face in front of their friends.
Her second option was to apologize and act innocent. That would allow them to back off without fighting and still feel like tough guys who didn’t have to prove anything. She could pretend they scared her and maybe they’d feel sorry for her. Curly always said a fight wasn’t the place for an ego. If she could avoid a fight by looking like she lost, even if she knew she could’ve won, then she did win.
She liked option two, so she said, “I’m sorry. I’m lost. Can you tell me how to get to the National Museum?” Jamie spoke Russian fluently, but she tried to act like she didn’t know the language very well, hoping they might actually back off and give her directions.
He wasn’t taking the bait. His eyes darted around, probably looking to see if the coast was clear and no one was watching them.
“Just give us your money and your phone, and you can be on your way,” he said strongly.
Jamie took the phone out of her back pocket.
“You mean this?” she waived it in front of them.
The boy nodded.
Time for option one.
“No,” Jamie said sarcastically in perfect Russian. “You can’t have my phone. I need it. Sorry. You can’t have my money either. How about you give me your money and phone? Maybe, I’ll steal them from you.”
The leader paused for a moment not sure how to react.
Curly always said confusion was good in a fight. Get your opponent thinking about other things. Jamie imagined several questions were running through his head. She could see his mind churning. Why did she suddenly speak Russian fluently? Why was she saying she was going to rob us? What do I do now? Is this girl tougher than she looks? She wasn’t sure what he was thinking but they were probably along those lines.
At first, he chuckled nervously, then he seemed to get angry. His hands balled into a fist. His jaw clenched. Shoulders raised slightly.
Before he could say anything, Jamie said, “Я звоню в полицию,” She had just told them she was calling the police. She actually said, Militsia which was the name for the police in Belarus. She’d read there was a no tolerance policy for gangs in Minsk. These four weren’t really a gang. They were just a group of kids, hanging out, not even looking for trouble. Maybe they would be afraid of the police coming.
Of course, they didn’t know that the Militsia were the last people Jamie wanted to see at that moment, and she had no intention of calling them. She just hoped they were afraid of the police as much as she was.
Suddenly, Jamie’s phone rang. It startled all of them. She looked down at the screen.
Alex.
A bolt of excitement pulsed through Jamie like an electrical current.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Now he calls me. At the worst possible time.” She sent it to voicemail and put the phone back in her pocket.
Now she was mad. They made her miss a call from Alex. Besides, she wasn’t getting anywhere with them, and they were wasting her time. Her contact was at Liberty Square waiting for her. She needed to get this over with. Jamie put thoughts of Alex out of her mind so she wouldn’t be the one distracted.
The body language of the four told her they were starting to get antsy as well. They all glanced at the one guy—the obvious leader. The one doin
g all the talking. All three had their fists clenched, but they weren’t going to make a move without his permission. Eyes glancing around nervously was a sign that something was about to happen.
Jamie was resigned to the fact that this was not going to end well for these boys. When faced with a situation like this, most people would think they were fighting four people. She was only fighting one, maybe two, of them. She would make her first strike so devastating and the injury so visible to the other three, it would have such a psychological effect on the others, and they would likely scatter without ever throwing a punch.
That sucked for the one she chose to hurt, but this was her most effective strategy to get it over with fast. Faced with that choice, Jamie would normally attack the weakest of the group. He was the easiest of the four to spot. Standing to her right was the smallest and probably youngest who also wore glasses.
You don’t wear glasses to a fight, Jamie wanted to yell at him like a mother would yell at her kids. A blow to the face of a person wearing glasses from someone with Jamie’s skills, wasn’t pretty. She didn’t want to choose him. She felt sorry for him. He obviously didn’t want to be there but was trying to act tough around his friends. One foot was behind the other, his weight shifted away from her. Like he wanted to run away. His eyes were wide as saucers. His thin fingers in a ball. Not ready to strike but out of fear. The boy was scared to death.
She decided to give him a break.
If Jamie wasn’t going to go for the weakest, then her other choice was usually to go for the strongest. If she took out the leader with devastating and overwhelming force, the others would think twice before making a move. Also, she thought she saw a slight bulge in the back of his pants which meant he was probably carrying a gun. That changed the equation.
Raised the level of danger. Although he clearly didn’t know that was one of the worst places to carry a gun if he wanted to get to it quickly. She could act so fast she could disable him before he could even touch it.
Plus, she needed a gun. This was the perfect opportunity to get one without much effort.
Jamie took a deep breath. Closed her eyes for a moment and envisioned her plan. A sudden thought came to her, so she deviated the plan slightly, remembering what Curly said.
Always make the first move and make it totally unexpected.
The element of surprise was one of the best weapons in a fight. An unexpected move would temporarily throw them off their game and cause them to think about how to respond. That momentary hesitation was all she needed to create a visible injury for the rest of the group to see.
His words resonated, Fight on your terms, not theirs.
Jamie did something highly unusual. She turned her back to the leader. In his eyes, she became more vulnerable, and he might think he had less need to reach for his gun. And she could keep an eye on the other three in case one or more of them had a weapon. She knew he would instinctively move toward her and try to grab her from behind, thinking he had the advantage.
The other three’s eyes would tell her when he made his move. It would come soon.
Jamie lifted her left leg slightly off the ground. She figured he probably wouldn’t even notice. When he got closer, Jamie could see him lunge for her out of the corner of her eye. In a split second she rotated her right foot, so she was sideways to him. This move was more difficult to execute and took more time than some of her other options, but it would do the most damage. Curly had taught Jamie to visualize that her foot was like a bullet in a chamber. When in the cocked position, Jamie rotated so that her heel was facing the target.
He had his hands raised to grab her, so they were both high in the air. He was slightly shorter than Jamie, so his arms were above his shoulders. She could easily kick him in the ribs and cause serious damage. A carefully placed kick would break several ribs. Maybe even his sternum. However, a rib could puncture his lung and be life threatening. She wanted to disable him, not kill him.
So, Jamie fired her heel like a bullet toward his lower body, just below his kneecap. He was moving toward her, so his momentum went right into the kick. When it landed, it shattered his tibia and destroyed all the muscles, ligaments, and cartilage in his knee. It hyperextended his knee to the extent that it dislodged from his femur as well.
He let out a yell and crumbled in a big heap, writhing in pain. The cracking of bone echoed through the alley.
Jamie had kicked him harder than she intended. The boy with the glasses took one look, turned, and ran the other way.
The other two had started toward her and couldn’t stop. They hesitated. They had a shocked look on their faces as they saw their not-so-fearless leader on the ground, with bones sticking out of his leg. Writhing in pain. It’s hard for anyone’s mind to process all of that information quickly enough to change intentions, so they kept moving forward.
The closest one took a wild swing at Jamie. He started the punch about two steps too soon. Jamie could have easily blocked it with her arm, but she needed to avoid contact with her hands or arms. That could leave bruises. Bruises could easily identify her if she was brought in for questioning for some reason. She didn’t want there to be any evidence that she had been in a fight. And elbows weren’t an option except as a last resort. They could bruise as well. She wanted to use her feet or knees. They didn’t bruise as easily, and they wouldn’t look at them anyway if she were under questioning.
So, Jamie simply stepped back one step and let the punch go past her. With her left hand, she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, so he was facing her. With tremendous acceleration, she kneed him in the groin. While extremely painful, he was much better off than his leader. Jamie was really trying not to hurt the other two more than necessary. He probably didn’t see her as being compassionate at that moment, but she was. She actually pulled back some which lessened the damage. Jamie could’ve severely injured his groin if she’d wanted to.
Two down, one to go.
In one motion, she instinctively turned to face the third guy. He swung half-heartedly. She grabbed his wrist and bent it backward. Any further, and she would have dislocated the wrist from the hand. Instead, she simply twisted it far enough to sprain it. She released her grip, and he grabbed his wrist and took off running, crying in pain. He was the luckiest of the three. The other two were still groaning on the ground, but they’d live. The leader would probably walk with a limp for the rest of his life, if they could even repair his knee. It would take a highly skilled surgeon to fix the damage she had caused.
Jamie hoped he didn’t lose his leg, but it was his own fault. She surveyed the scene and was pleased that there was no blood. She had none on her, and the fight had gone about as well as she could have hoped.
She looked around to see if anyone had seen the fight. Fortunately, the alleyway was secluded and dark as the sun was close to setting.
She turned the leader over and pulled the gun out of his pants, inspecting it in the process. It was a Russian made Makarov 18mm pistol. A gun widely used by law enforcement, military, and special forces in Russia. Where would a punk like this get such a powerful weapon?
She didn’t think too long; she was just glad to have it.
Let’s hope I don’t have to use it.
7
Jamie got away from the scene of the attack as quickly as possible. She walked out of the alley and turned right down the road running behind the shops. The only person she saw was a man ahead of her unloading a van almost a block away. He wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his task at hand, so she continued walking forward normally in the shadows so he couldn’t make out her face in case he looked her way. She glanced around to see if she could locate any video cameras. There didn’t appear to be any.
She’d gotten lucky. Nothing could tie her to the attacks. Except the boys, of course. They could identify her, but what were they going to say to the police? “We were robbing this girl, and she beat us up trying to escape.” That story would incriminate them mo
re than her. The case for self-defense would be clear. If they said she attacked and robbed them, the story would sound even more incredulous.
Why would a young woman attack and rob four men out of the blue? What did that say about them that she was successful? They’d be embarrassed to tell even their friends what had happened much less the police. And they certainly couldn’t say anything about the gun. Jamie was fairly confident the boys would keep their mouths shut.
Still, it wasn’t as simple as that. An ambulance would be called. Then the police because it would be obvious an attack had occurred. The boys would have to come up with some story. More than likely, they’d say they were attacked by a rival gang or a man with a gun. Some incredible story that made them look better.
Her only concern was the two younger boys. They might say something out of fear or fall apart under interrogation. She couldn’t see the little kid with the glasses lasting ten seconds under intense interrogation by a seasoned Belarusian detective.
No reason to worry about it now. She needed to get to her contact. If she was brought in for questioning, she’d just have to talk her way out of it.
When she was a safe distance away, she stopped, pulled out her map and plotted the quickest route to Liberty Square. She glanced at her watch. Only five minutes to get there, and the walk would take at least fifteen minutes. If she ran, she could make it in five, but then she’d be too conspicuous. If the police saw an American running at night through the streets of Minsk, they would arrest her and ask questions later.
Her contact was instructed to wait for fifteen minutes after the scheduled time, so Jamie could still make it. After that, he’d leave and assume the worst. She quickened her pace without drawing too much attention to herself wanting to get back on the main road and take the most direct route to the Square. The guy who was following her out of the hotel could be on the main road looking for her, but that was a chance she had to take. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be. Time was of the essence and losing him again would only take more time.
