“I thought the new Attorney General was cleaning up the DOJ and FBI,” Clint said.
“He is, but there are more Deep State operatives entrenched in those agencies than ever suspected. We’ll get the traitor who tipped off your Islamberg mission. Thank God John stopped Elbaz. We’ll confer at Pain Central when the Monsters return after the fight.”
“I’ve found pictures of Elbaz and Raab together at a couple of political fund raisers. That can hurt her. If she demands an investigation into Elbaz’s disappearance, we can show her with him in public. I’m sending the pictures to your phones now.”
“Good one, Achmed. That gives us something to counteract Raab’s reaction after she learns about Elbaz. How do you all like John’s chances?” Denny asked
“I get the feeling he believes this will be a tougher fight than anyone thinks,” Lynn said.
* * *
We decided to have our meeting in my suite. After food and drink arrived, and dinner finished, the Monsters and Unholies adjourned away from the dependents. They watched a movie in comfort while we discussed the new threat. Training kept me occupied, working on defensive and offensive jujitsu techniques with Dev and Jess, while Tommy critiqued my speed. I confess I had been watching more of Rudo’s videos than most other opponents I faced. His grappling and jujitsu moves were impressive.
Nick listened to the information gathered from Elbaz intently. He seemed to like what Denny proposed. “I agree on all counts with Denny. If we strike her here in New York after the attack by Elbaz and his disappearance, we will have some difficulty. Jafar sent me an audio recording of the discussion. Case makes a solid point about the mutants deciding to go on offense with single attackers. They have done so in the past, even at a book-signing. The kids have been working on Raab’s Michigan base. I think it best I go there in secret by military flight and look for an opening before she goes to DC.”
“Islamberg buried the dead and the media only heard rumors. Raab can’t use anything pertaining to the mission,” I added. “She goes home in a couple days. We will need to take precautions concerning personal attacks. We all know how deadly and unexpected a knife attack can be. We’ve staved off many attacks by eliminating the threat before it can be launched.”
“I won’t move on Raab until things cool down a little on video handling of Kelly Rupert,” Nick said. “The FBI will be hunting his killers for a while longer until someone at the DOJ tells them to take the win and forget about it. Unfortunately, Muerto’s notoriety will be at its peak on FBI dartboards. I will need to ice down the Muerto image for a time.”
“Dad,” Jean called out. “We found a bunch of stuff on Raab. She lives with just her husband in a mansion like house on Burns Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. Jafar hooked us into her credit and finances. Raab and her husband, Fahil Raab, eat out every Friday night at a restaurant inside a mansion, called The Whitney. The credit card statements indicate they usually do not get home before 10 pm. She will be back in Detroit on a flight landing there at noon on Wednesday.”
Nick walked over to scrutinize the kids’ laptop screens. “Excellent work. In that neighborhood, I can’t simply park and walk in. I’ll need Johnny on this in case we need to get into anything needing Arabic speaking Ebi Zarin. I have a plan but we’ll need to wait until after Thanksgiving to act on it.”
“It does not include grenades, right?” Johnny asked.
Nick smiled as he rejoined our group, waiting for the amusement at Johnny’s question to die down. “No grenades. I believe Toshida and her husband will have a falling out at the restaurant, return home, and have a terrible argument, ending in a frightful way. I’ll need Johnny as my driver and Paul to provide us with a car. We can fly into Selfridge Air Base. Selfridge is the perfect distance from Detroit.”
“Will Paul be tough to recruit for this?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Nick responded. “It was his mission getting us in Raab’s crosshairs, not that we wouldn’t have done it anyway.”
“Yeah… we can’t put that on him, not after what we saw in the farmhouse bunker. I’ll be glad when this fight is over with so we can get back to Oakland. I can tell Mayor Constantine is worried about leaving the city for too long.”
“I admit it, but I’m seeing some concern on your face about Madaki, John. You were great in training today,” Dev replied.
“Madaki can brawl on the mat. I need to get him thinking about his legs. I don’t know how long I can keep him from taking me to the mat. He has some great takedown moves. I’m determined to have an entertaining time before the match with Nick and Joan performing. The cage match will take care of itself.”
* * *
My phalanx of MIB escort troops marched in formation around me to the cage, including the kids with Kade dressed in a black suit Lora found for him and sunglasses. He had Al and Jean on either side ready to grab on if Kade needed help. I balked at letting him do it, but he was so sure everything would be fine, Kade rolled Lora once again.
Barclay’s Center put on an amazing show with all the accoutrements for huge audience entertainment. They had been playing everything on the big screens, including our training regimen and me riding Captain Hook. The highlight recordings from Rudo’s past fights played before mine and he looked good on the big screen. Next came mine with scenes from my first Rattler fight when Rattler turned me into the Cheeseburger. They also played the video of my training fight against Carl Logan which I’m sure made Carl’s head explode. The crowd roared nonstop when I knocked Carl out.
I always march out to the cage with the Marine’s Hymn blasting. This day was no exception. The UFC tried something different with having a heavyweight championship bout go first before the undercards. They liked the audience reaction to Nick performing directly before my match as had been done the last couple fights. I also agreed to go first into the cage, because I liked watching the other guy troop to the cage. Madaki arrived in splendor. He picked red and gold primary colors. His music, a heavy metal number with a base beat earned me a Tommy Sands slap to the back of my head when I unconsciously began moving a little to the beat. I glanced back at Kade, hoping he wouldn’t see me get my head handed to me. He waved from where he sat in the front between Lora and Al. They were under orders to get him out of the arena if things went South for me.
Chapter Thirteen
Controlled Mayhem
The Barclay Center people probably made a mistake allowing Nick and Joan to perform Danny Boy before a UFC fight. They made people openly weep, it was so good. I’m sure Barclay’s did not expect quite that reaction, nor the standing ovation after it. Nick instinctively knew they couldn’t launch directly into the Anthem after Danny Boy. He and Joan grinned at each other and launched into an incredible version of the Rolling Stones (Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. How Joan could make the base-beat and melody pound through the arena simply amazed everyone. Nick pulled off a Mick Jagger to perfection, only with a better voice. I believe after they finished the Star Spangled Banner, the people wanted to continue with the concert rather than the fight.
The referee gave us our refresher course on UFC rules. Rudo and I tapped gloves. I had a plan for the first round I hoped would work. It might forestall a takedown in the first round. I wanted to work a bit before going to the mat. The referee said get it on. Rudo approached and dropped into a perfect takedown, combining speed and surprise. I did the unexpected. I crouched low and shot a left jab into his forehead before he could get low. It had enough power to put him on his butt because it caught him coming in. Rudo looked confused as he scrambled away to his feet. The crowd liked the knockdown in the first seconds.
I stayed low, shooting left jabs and right hooks to the body, while enduring some very credible counterpunches from Rudo. I smashed two huge leg strikes, hitting the same spot. Those really got his attention. He landed a roundhouse kick to my shoulder, throwing me off balance, and enabling him an opportunity to take me to the mat, which he did with relative ease. Rudo nearly c
losed a triangle choke in the first seconds. Only quickness and recognition saved me. We then got down to business from there with hurtful shots and grueling grappling for the rest of the round. To our credit, we moved and struck so much, the referee did not interfere. The round ended with us pounding each other on the mat while trying to work a hold. By their reaction to the round, we didn’t turn off the audience.
Tommy handled mouthpiece duty for the absent Jafar. “Great start with how you stopped the immediate takedown. The prick is snake-like quick with the damn takedown. He won’t allow a lull in the fight at all.”
“Rudo’s in peak condition,” Dev said. “He wasn’t even breathing hard after a punishing ground and pound. We saw him nearly close the triangle choke on you.”
I gestured for quiet with my gloved hands. “Anyone stops this fight during a hold better have a hidey-hole on the other side of the earth. Understood?”
“Yeah… cement-head… we know the Dark Lord rules,” Tommy retorted.
At the beginning of the second round I decided not to spend the entire round wasting time staying off the mat. I took Rudo to the mat. It surprised him so much I achieved full mount and made him cover for nearly the entire round. I smashed nonstop strikes to Rudo’s head and body without letup, waging war with stamina earned during endless hours in the ocean. He moved, covered, and defended, letting the referee know I did not have him beaten. I wasn’t doing it to get a technical knockout stoppage. This ground and pound mission convinced Rudo avoiding the mat no longer mattered to me. He couldn’t break free or work a hold; because if he did stop defending, Rudo knew I would pound his face in or break one or more of his ribs.
The Barclay’s Center vibrated with the solid noise of crowd bedlam. The round ended and the referee dived into our midst, anticipating I would not know the round ended. I stood away from Rudo, backing to my side of the cage, watching as it took more than a few seconds for Rudo to shake off his time on the mat. He didn’t look much the worse for wear, but he didn’t look rested and refreshed either, and Rudo gulped air.
“You would have killed anyone else with those strikes,” Dev said. “Rudo can take it. He proved that beyond any doubt.”
“Good change up taking him down. God only knows how you kept that pounding going for five minutes,” Tommy said.
“I bet Rudo won’t be so eager to get on the mat this round,” Jess added.
“That was the plan. He’s never been knocked down, so it’s doubtful I can knock him out. I figured I could convince him I was in it for the long haul.”
“Any ideas for this round?”
“Yeah… give the crowd its money’s worth, T.”
Tommy popped my mouthpiece back in. “Soften his legs up this round and use your jab before he gets any ideas about going to the mattresses with you.”
I appreciated the Godfather lingo for a moment before the referee gave us the go. I had to out-quick Rudo as he decided to show me the mat beckoned to him. Unfortunately for him, I dropped with him, using my knee for defense. It staggered him and I shot in an uppercut, putting him on his back while sending Rudo’s mouthpiece flying. I stepped back instead of diving into full mount on him and gestured at his mouthpiece. Rudo nodded and retrieved it as the crowd roared its approval. My guys rained curses on me like fish-wives on a heavy-handed butcher in the meat market.
When Rudo and I met again in center cage, I pounded him with left jabs, while working his legs with brutal behind the knee shots. I was determined to take away some of his quickness. Rudo could take a punch and I didn’t want him kicking my head in with one of those roundhouse smashes. My uppercut formed a few cobwebs in his head he shook off with a steady counterpunching barrage, but he wasn’t ready for a return to the mat. The round ended with us working each other over without a second’s pause.
Tommy gave me a smack in the back of my head, which earned scattered laughter from the audience seeing it on the big screen. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re not in a girl scout camp slap fest, dummy.”
“Isn’t there a rule against hitting your own fighter?”
“I hope Rudo don’t make you pay for that,” Jess said.
“Those kicks helped make Rudo decide not to attempt a takedown,” Dev said. “He knows he lost all three rounds so far. It will be the mat at all costs this round.”
“There wouldn’t be another round if dopey had finished him,” Tommy stabbed me with another unkind critique.
“I was showing good sportsmanship to my son.”
“I hope Kade appreciates it when he’s standing next to you in the ICU.”
“That’s just mean.”
I blocked a takedown and landed a couple of beautiful hooks to Rudo’s body at the beginning of the fourth round. I know because of the pained expression on his face when I landed the second one. Then, the inexplicable happened. I slipped and fell on my butt in a perfect position for Rudo to drop down on me for a triangle choke. He closed it and I was in trouble. Rudo worked to get his legs into position, as first Smokey the Bear and then SpongeBob appeared, holding hands, while the air shimmered into grainy darkness with the hideous Squarepants chattering loudly in my head.
I pushed up and backwards with all my might, catching Rudo with one of his legs trapped under us, trusting in the strength of my legs to save me. I didn’t do anything tricky. I slammed him onto his back hard enough to loosen his grip. The elbow strike I landed under his ribcage broke the hold. I stumbled against the cage, turned, and caught Rudo charging in. I ducked, covered and counterpunched, whipping short vicious hooks to the body, while trying to shed my double-vision. Squarepants was still yucking it up in my head when the round ended.
Rudo and I separated shakily with the referee giving us a push. I noticed at some point I had broken his nose. Blood streamed down his face. My guys met me, ready to repair any damage.
“Rudo made me see Smokey the Bear and that chattering loon, SpongeBob. They were holding hands.”
“Oh shit… bring the Latin, Dev. Dark Lord goin’ for the kill.”
Dev gave me Last Rites.
“Last Rites, Dev? Really?”
“That’s all I have time for, John.”
Tommy put my mouthpiece in and nudged me toward center cage. “I’m not talking to you, fool. He almost twisted your head off.”
“I slipped.”
“Put on your ice skates, dummy.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
The referee had us touch gloves for the final round with the crowd noise in a crescendo of sound. Rudo and I backed away. The referee told us to get it on. I didn’t waste time. I banged leg strikes to the backs of Rudo’s knees until he had to dive for a takedown. I stopped the attempt with a left hook, smacking right on target to his temple. Rudo collapsed on his side momentarily. Unfortunately for him, it gave me an opening to yank his arm upward while lacing my legs around his arm and neck, completing it with locked ankles. No one human can bust that hold with my leg strength. Rudo bucked up and down to no avail. I felt him passing out. He wouldn’t tap out. The referee dived in to stop it as Rudo went limp.
I untangled myself from Rudo and helped the referee get him into a sitting position until his cage crew took over with the medical staff. The referee raised my arm. The audience gave us a long ovation. My cage crew toweled me with cool wet towels. I dried off and slipped on my unmarked black Marine Corps t-shirt.
“Rudo is as stubborn as you are,” Tommy said.
“Yeah… he is.”
“Good fight,” Dev said.
“I’m glad Rudo is alive after makin’ you see Smokey and SpongeBob holdin’ hands,” Jess added.
Rudo and I hugged it out at center cage when they got him on his feet, and they made the final announcement.
“I almost had you, John… damn it.”
“You did, indeed.”
“Why didn’t you jump me after the uppercut?” Rudo asked.
“Because I’m stupid.”
That made him
laugh.
* * *
Kade and Al sat next to me with Lynn on the other side of them at the press conference. Kade wanted to sit with me. His excitement enticed Al to come along with him. All the Monsters and Unholies attended too. Rudo and I greeted each other with respect, as did our cage crews. I spotted Carl Logan and Bruno Dornan in the audience. The questions addressed the fight itself, sharply focusing on the turning points. The humorous question came from a woman with one of the three letter TV networks.
“That was a very sporting gesture allowing Mr. Madaki to retrieve his mouthpiece. Do you think he would have done the same for you?”
“Nope. Rudo’s not as dumb as I am.”
After appreciation of my comment died down, I added, “my not immediately taking advantage of the moment and ending the fight, almost cost me the fight. Rudo nearly choked me out in the fourth round.”
The questioning remained cordial to the end. Rudo and I shook hands again. I promised him consideration for a rematch at a later date.
“I think I will fight some other contenders before I talk another rematch,” Rudo said.
“Your takedown and grappling skills are the best I’ve faced. I think you’re smart to take your time coming back. I can’t think of anyone in the division you couldn’t handle in the cage.”
We parted friends. Lynn stepped in front of Al and Kade as both Carl Logan and Bruno Dornan approached. “There are some moments when shooting someone in the head is preferable to listening to them.”
“Amen to that, Sis.”
“Lucked out again, huh pug?”
“You mean like when I knocked your ass out in the gym, Carl?”
“Try it in the boxing ring, pug.”
“You got a pretty mouth,” Lynn said. “Don’t make me cut you another one on your neck. Beat it, Carl. We have kids here.”
Carl thought to take a quick verbal shot at me - try and bait me into a match again within hearing of the media, and then stomp off when I said no. The guy cannot let it go. He planned to show up like an ugly pimple on my nose at every opportunity.
Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding) Page 28
