Part 67 (1/2)

”I know, but- aw, h.e.l.l.” Bradley nodded to Wes, who went off to the little secluded area where the fighters kept to themselves, separated by a little thin card between them.

If someone had a real vendetta against him, it wouldn't be all that hard to just come right on through with a knife or a gun, and make it happen. But they wouldn't, because it would be just as easy to bring a knife into the ring.

You'd be disqualified from the fight, but n.o.body was going to jump in and save his neck. And you'd be able to show the world what happens to people you don't like.

Wes started going through his stretches, just about enough s.p.a.ce between the packed-in cars to lay out flat. He decided he was finished when he heard his name, jumped up, and headed into the ring.

The place was packed. If this really was a last-minute thing, a fight they'd added to the calendar only a week or two ago, then Wes was G.o.d d.a.m.ned surprised. They'd advertised it well in that week.

He slipped under the ring rope and raised his hand, turning to look around the crowd. For a moment, his wishful mind thought he saw Minami in that thick crowd, but he already knew better than to believe it, and when he looked again on the second turn, she wasn't there any more.

The j.a.panese came next. This wasn't some big Sumo mother f.u.c.ker like the last one. He might have been five-seven and a buck fifty, but you could count the muscle fibers in his shoulder if you had enough time on your hands.

The crowd exploded when he hit. Wes didn't recognize his name, but then he never would. These guys were n.o.bodies to him, and it didn't much matter how popular they were somewhere else. It wasn't as if he was going to study match footage beforehand.

The guy bowed to him, and Wes bowed back, not wanting to be rude. Then they were separated to their corners, and the ring girl raised her hand, held it up for a long second, and then dropped it. Wes started moving immediately, circling around. His eyes and his feet were his most important weapons. Keep his hands up.

Don't let the mother f.u.c.ker hit his nose. Don't let him get behind, don't let him-Wes amended the long list of things he needed to make sure he didn't do to 'don't get hit bad.'

The guy moved a little stiffly. Traditional martial arts had that problem, most of the time. They're not quite as used to someone who just circles. Well, that would work in his advantage, if he kept it up.

Still, for the guy's stiff movements, he didn't move so stiffly that Wes could get more than a step or two ahead of him. Nowhere near to getting an unprotected side. Even as Wes turned, he waited for the little guy to fire off a shot, show what he was made of, but he seemed to be just as patient.

The crowd usually got sick of that kind of fight fast, but these just kept themselves quiet. The entire atmosphere was electric. Wes stepped in, easily within range of a mid-kick from the guy, but darted out an instant later. No response.

Wes was beginning to wonder what was up with this guy. He stepped in again, took a step to the side... stepped in, one of his hands tightening for a stiff jab right into the j.a.panese's eyebrow.

The guy slipped the punch easily and shot his fist straight toward Wes's chest. Wes dropped his left hand and knocked the blow aside narrowly, the guy's big, pointed knuckles catching the edge of his ribcage and deflecting off harmlessly.

So that was how this was going to be played. The guy was quick, and he was waiting for Wes to make the first move. His entire game plan relied on it. Wes preferred counter-punching. Most of the American fight organizers like to get big brawlers for these things. Guys who end fights in one big sloppy punch.

Well, the answer to that routine was always counters. Countering was in Wes's blood by this point. In his D.N.A. But now he was going to have to undo that.

He took a step, and then the instant his weight was down on his right leg he darted back again and shot in close and tight to the little j.a.panese, wrapping a thick arm around the guy's chest and bringing his knees up and in, hard into the guy's ribs.

The j.a.panese didn't panic for a moment, bringing his fist around in a wide arc to slam hard into Wes's side. The American groaned out his agony, swallowed his pride and his pain, and stepped back, moving his grip to the j.a.panese fighter's head and sending a knee up towards him, using all his might to pull that head so it was on a collision course with his knee, a hit that connected and sent the j.a.panese stumbling back a few steps.

His nose poured out blood down his mouth and down his face, sending the signal to everyone who cared to see that he'd taken a hit that meant something.

The blow in Wes's side ached already, an unpleasant sign of things to come. Still, he had to have come out at least equal from that encounter. The j.a.panese, however, didn't show any particular damage from the attack, taking his stance again.

If it wasn't for the blood coming from his nose, Wes wouldn't have known that he'd been hit the entire fight, where Wes could already feel his breathing coming harder. How was he supposed to win this fight, anyways?

The j.a.panese waited for him once again. An impa.s.sible wall that Wes had no way to defeat other than to figure out what was letting this guy kick his a.s.s so completely. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp, stabbing pain that came with the deepest part of that breath, and forced himself to slow down.

He had to win this fight, but if the crowd didn't like it... well, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to be coming back here again. It didn't matter that the crowd didn't love the fight, as long as he got paid and kept his feet under him.

Thirty-Nine.

Minami Minami watched the fight with her hands half in front of her eyes, and when Wes took the hard wallop in the side, she knew that she had made a mistake coming to the fight at all. He'd be alright if she just waited at his apartment.

He was a fighter. This was normal for him, the same thing he did every day practically. But watching fights, really watching them, that wasn't her thing. Especially when the other guy was obviously a talented karateka.

She took in a deep breath and forced her hands into her lap, stood up, and shouted out. ”Wes! Kick his a.s.s!”

He must have heard her voice, because he turned just for an instant. She repeated the shout again. This time he didn't turn, but she could see the way that he reshaped his shoulders, forced himself back into good posture. He knew she was there, and that was all she'd hoped to accomplish by shouting out for him.

He went back to circling, his legs less spritely than they had been. If he was going to win this, he'd have to figure something out.

The karateka stepped in closer as well, daring Wes to attack. When he didn't, the j.a.panese formed up and waited for the attack that was sure to come in time.

Wes went in with a low kick, which the karateka took on the thigh seemingly without noticing. The two continued their circling, watching each other, neither giving nor asking any quarter.

Wes ducked his head, then and when he brought it back up he brought a heavy fist up with it. The j.a.panese weaved his head back and then suddenly spun and a high kick arced seemingly out of nowhere, clipping Wes hard on the ear. Minami shouted out her disapproval, a feeling under her skin making her feel as if she'd taken the blow herself.

”Watch out!”

The fight continued that way. Wes went in, tried to attack, and missed. The Karateka hit another hard blow, but not hard enough to knock Wes to the concrete.

Wes swallowed down breaths hard, one of his eyes starting to swell shut from where the kick had been reinforced with a back-fist to the eye.

”What are you doing! Kill him!”

The shout coming from the crowd came loud and hot, and Minami found herself shouting along with them, words of encouragement and pleading, begging Wes to find something inside himself to win the fight that had gone so badly against him so far.

Minami watched in slow motion as the next attack coming from Wes sailed wide as the j.a.panese moved back at the last instant, another high, arcing kick catching Wes right in the face. Wes crumpled to his knees, like someone had cut the marionette's strings, and for a moment she thought the fight was over.

The j.a.panese took a long, loping step and started to throw a wide, spinning kick that would ensure the ending, the first aggressive thing he'd done the entire fight. Wes slumped lower, sending the kick sailing high. The fight was over- Or, wait. At the last instant, Wes's arms wrapped around the pivot foot, and then he rolled himself over, sending the j.a.panese to the ground. Wes pulled himself back up to his feet, still clutching at that ankle and twisting.

The j.a.panese kicked up his other foot, caught Wes with a hard heel to Wes's sternum, but he didn't let go. In fact, he wrenched hard, as if he was trying to snap the foot off, and the j.a.panese groaned out his pain and turned over to try to alleviate the pain.

Wes let out a roar and brought a foot down heavy on the j.a.panese fighter's hip, adding insult to injury, and started wrenching harder. When he finally let go, the j.a.panese took a second to try to recover himself, and in that moment Wes moved over and took a firm two-handed grip on the j.a.panese fighter's hand, pulled up, and sat down.

The sick cracking sound went through the crowd, deep down into Minami's bones. The screams of pain that followed weren't nearly so biting, nearly so deep inside her, didn't effect her nearly so much as that sound of the man's elbow shattering.

His shouts of 'give, give' barely made a dent in her. Minami let out a long, unsteady breath, the violence before her an alarming display that she couldn't begin to understand or cope with. Minami pushed herself up from the folding chair and started to move toward the edge of the crowd. Wes could find her out in the parking lot, because she couldn't stay here, not one second longer.

Minami gulped down air, trying to find the strength to stay standing, the sight of the smaller man's arm snapping, the way that the awful crack went through the crowd...

Wes found her a while later, sitting on the floor and trying not to think about anything.