Michelle ignored Lindsey's hateful remark. “Where is Fred Chert?” she demanded.
“Alive,” Lindsey said in a poisonous voice. “But he won't be after I've finished with you.” Lindsey put on a pair of black gloves and pulled out a gun from under her leather jacket and aimed it at Michelle. “I could kill you right now, Chan.”
Michelle remained calm. “You won't, though. Sung, guns are not your style. You're a fighter, like me. We were trained to battle with our body, not weapons.”
Lindsey grinned. “Perhaps,” she said and tossed the gun to the side. “That gun has your friend’s fingerprints on it. She is going to be blamed for your murder after I make it appear that she committed suicide, of course.” Lindsey removed her leather jacket and tossed it down onto the ground and dropped into a lethal fighting position. “Are you ready to die, Chan?”
Michelle prepared herself for battle. “As they say here in the deep south: Come and get some.”
“Oh, I will,” Lindsey promised and lunged at the approaching Michelle with a furious front kick. Michelle blocked the kick with her left arm, swung around, and smacked Lindsey in the face with her right fist. Lindsey stumbled backward, felt her face and then charged forward with a fury of front kicks. Michelle stepped backward, blocking one kick after another. But then Lindsey changed her angle of attack and surprised with a sudden roundhouse kick. The kick caught Michelle in the face and threw her down onto the ground. Michelle was not daunted, but she in that split second she scolded herself for not anticipating the ferocity of Lindsey’s attacks.
Lindsey ran at Michelle but Michelle flipped up off the ground, dropped down into a deep squat, and punched Lindsey in the stomach. Lindsey doubled over, grabbing her stomach, and then recovered and charged forward again. Michelle shot up into the air, executed a vicious roundhouse kick, and caught Lindsey square in the face. Lindsey's body went twirling in the air and crashed down onto the ground. Michelle backed up a few steps and waited.
“You're good, but not good enough,” Lindsey hissed as she flipped up to her feet and slowly began circling Michelle. She appeared only slightly winded from her exertions.
Michelle remained calm. In her mind she saw a sweet, innocent baby cradled in her arms, smiling up at her with toothless gums, smelling of fresh baby powder, wrapped in a warm baby blanket. “For you,” she promised.
“Die,” Lindsey said and ran at Michelle and began kicking throwing a series of front kicks, roundhouse kicks and legs sweeps at her. Michelle managed to block every kick but was finally caught with a painful leg sweep that knocked her down onto the ground. Lindsey came at her and began kicking at her face. Michelle caught Lindsey's right foot and pushed her backward, flipped up to her feet, but was brought down again by a powerful spin kick. Michelle felt her body launch through the air and hit the ground. Knowing that Lindsey would be on her in a matter of seconds, she shook off her pain and began rolling to her right side just as Lindsey began kicking at her face again. Michelle kept rolling, forcing Lindsey to chase her. Then she suddenly stopped, spun her body around in a flash, and managed to kick Lindsey's right leg hard enough to push the woman back. The fight had turned again.
As Lindsey stumbled back, Michelle jumped to her feet and crouched down. Lindsey ran at her with a flying kick. Michelle ducked the kick and used the opening to land a spin punch on Lindsey’s face. Lindsey ignored her pain and kicked Michelle in her stomach and then charged at her. Michelle grabbed Lindsey by her shirt, then dropped onto her back, using the momentum to flip Lindsey over and into the air. Lindsey twirled in the air and managed to land on her feet. “Is that all you got, cop?” she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve with a smirk.
Michelle jumped to her feet and steadied her fighting position. “I've got more, Sung,” she promised.
Lindsey narrowed her eyes. Michelle was an experienced and skilled fighter; better than she thought. She was throwing everything she had at the woman and finding no clear victory in return. Lindsey steadied her mind and determined to wear Michelle down a little at a time, beginning with her arms. If she couldn’t win on technique, she could certainly win on stamina. She drew in a deep breath and thrust her body forward and began punching and thrusting deadly pointed blows, kicking at Michelle's arms, forcing Michelle to block each one, wearing down her muscles.
Michelle realized Lindsey's tactic, blocked a kick, and in the split second before Lindsey could throw the next punch, Michelle dropped down into a deep crouch and levered a powerful kick into the bone of her upper thigh. The blow was powerful enough to stop Lindsey momentarily, and she even stumbled backward. Michelle used the moment to back up and gain some more space. She had to keep that sweet future child in her mind, lest she be consumed with fear and what-ifs. She dropped into her fighting stance again.
The pain was incredible but Lindsey didn't let on. Instead, she charged at Michelle again, determined to wear the woman's arms down. Michelle was quick with her hands but slower with her kicks. “Die!”
Michelle began blocking Lindsey's kicks again, feeling her arms growing tired. She started to realize that Lindsey was lethal with her kicks—more lethal than she was. Michelle knew her power was in her hands more than her legs. If Lindsey wore down her arms, she would be finished. “Not yet,” Michelle said and began throwing her body backwards into a series of quick backflips, managing to put a little more distance between herself and Lindsey. Lindsey chased after Michelle, certain she could catch her prey but ran into a hard spin punch when Michelle suddenly stopped her flips. The punch sent pain crashing through Lindsey’s head and nearly caused her to black out. “Not bad, cop,” she hissed unsteadily and backed away from Michelle a few feet in order to clear her mind.
Michelle felt exhaustion begin taking its toll. Her stomach was full of Sam's chili, too much coffee, and a candy bar she really didn't need. She was sure Lindsey's stomach only held water and maybe a simple veggie sandwich. She took in a deep breath and watched Lindsey begin circling her again and promised to sleep for an entire week and go on a healthy diet if she survived the fight. She held the snugly wrapped child in her arms, mentally telling Able and herself that she wouldn’t lose sight of the goal. Before she could finish her thought, Lindsey charged forward with her front kicks again, forcing Michelle backward.
Lindsey knew Michelle was growing weaker and wouldn't be able to keep up her back flips all night. Michelle began blocking the kicks and tried to drop down into a defensive split again. As she did, Lindsey kicked her right in the face with a deadly front kick. Michelle felt her body fly backward and her world turned dark for a few seconds. Then she felt Lindsey kick her in the chest, forcing out all of the air in her lungs. Lindsey went for a second kick. This time Michelle managed to catch her foot and push her backward. Lindsey quickly caught her balance and charged forward again, kicking at Michelle, forcing her to roll from side to side, wearing out her body. Then, out of nowhere, she heard someone scream: “Incoming!”
Lindsey turned around and saw Momma Peach charging at her like a raging bull. Before she could react, Momma Peach headbutted her right in the stomach. Lindsey never felt such power. All she felt was her body fly back through the air and hit a wooden tent pole. “I’m here, baby!” Momma Peach yelled and ran over to Michelle and helped her stand up.
“Whew, thanks, Momma Peach,” Michelle said in grateful voice. “I wasn't doing so good.”
Lindsey crawled to her feet, ran at Momma Peach, and threw a hard kick at her. “Die!”
“Oh no, you don't,” Momma Peach yelled and swung her bowling pin as hard as she could into Lindsey’s shin. Lindsey cried out in pain and stepped backward.
“You coward!” she yelled at Michelle, limping. “You're going to let that woman fight for you?”
Michelle looked at Momma Peach. “Think of your future child,” Momma Peach reminded Michelle.
“I did,” Michelle said in a worried voice. “Momma Peach, Lindsey is fast with her kicks. She is wearing me down.”
Michelle stared at Lindsey. She wasn't a coward and she was definitely prepared to die proving she wasn't a coward. “Calm down and remember your training in the old country,” Michelle whispered. She felt Momma Peach touch her shoulder. “I can do this, Momma Peach. I can defeat Lindsey.”
Momma Peach leaned forward and kissed Michelle on her cheek. “I’m right with you, baby. Let's get her.”
“No,” Michelle told Momma Peach, “this is my fight.” Michelle pulled Momma Peach behind her and dropped down into a fighting position. “Fight, Sung!”
Lindsey charged at Michelle and once again began throwing one powerful front kick at her after another. This time, Michelle was prepared. Instead of blocking the front kicks with her arms she began blocking them with her defensive kicks. This caught Lindsey off-guard and forced her to attempt a spin kick to get above Michelle's legs. Michelle ducked under the spin kick and brought both of her fists up into Lindsey's chest. Lindsey flew backward, rubbed her chest, and then charged forward again. Michelle ran at Lindsey and threw a kick at her. Lindsey easily avoided it but when she spun around to counter-attack she was met by a lightning-fast punch...and then another punch...and another.
Michelle began throwing punches at Lindsey so fast that Lindsey finally turned and tried to run away from Michelle. Michelle threw her body forward and kicked Lindsey in the back. Lindsey toppled down to the ground, rolled off into the distance, and crawled to her feet. She saw Michelle’s shadowy body standing very still, waiting for her. For the first time in her life, she felt fear enter her heart. Michelle wasn't a fighter...the woman was a warrior. Even if Momma Peach hadn’t shown up, Lindsey knew that somehow Michelle would have managed to survive the fight. But even though fear entered her heart, she wasn't about to back down. She, too, was a warrior. “Die!” she yelled hoarsely and ran at Michelle and once more began throwing front kicks, determined to wear Michelle's arms down.
Michelle began blocking the front kicks with her own set of defensive kicks again, slowly backing away from Lindsey, trying desperately to think of an offensive attack that would catch her opponent off guard. But before she could, one of Lindsey's front kicks slipped past her defenses and caught her in the chest. Michelle felt her body fall backward and immediately tucked into a roll and popped up onto her feet, only to be met by a hard spin punch, followed by a painful kick to her right rib cage and then a leg sweep. Michelle felt her body crash down onto the ground but managed to catch Lindsey's right foot before it struck her feet. She threw Lindsey backward and jumped up to her feet. Lindsey ran at her and once again began throwing front kicks at her. Michelle became fed up with the front kicks, threw caution to the wind, and threw her body into a screaming roundhouse kick. She felt her right foot connect with Lindsey's face and throw the woman into the air. Lindsey flopped down onto the ground, shook her head, looked up at Michelle, and began crawling to her feet, slower than before. “Come get some, Sung!” Michelle yelled, feeling completely drained of energy. But in her mind, she kept seeing an innocent baby cradled in an achingly soft baby blanket, smiling at her with toothless gums.
“Knock her into the next century, baby!” Momma Peach yelled.
Lindsey shook her head. The roundhouse kick has really hurt her. She had never been kicked so hard in all of her life. Her vision was now blurry and her mind fought to stay awake. She looked at Momma Peach and then back at Michelle. “I will not be a coward,” she whispered and ran at Michelle. This time she didn't throw a single front kick. Instead, she grabbed the front of Michelle's shirt and began grappling with her. Michelle tried to stand strong but Lindsey managed to trip her back legs and take her down onto the ground. Once on the ground, she began to wear out Michelle's arms by pinning her down, forcing her to block punches and elbow blows. Michelle struggled to block Lindsey's attacks and wrapped her legs around the woman's waist while using her arms to protect her face. “Time to die, cop!”
Michelle wasn't sure how much longer she could hold on. Lindsey had the upper hand, literally. All she could do was remain in a defensive position until she could figure out a way to throw Lindsey off her. But then, all of a sudden, Lindsey stopped punching at her and swayed for a moment. Before Michelle could process what she was seeing, Lindsey yanked a dagger out of a knife holster attached to her ankle, raised the dagger into the air, and prepared to stab Michelle in the chest. “Die!” Lindsey screamed and lunged at Michelle, the dagger high above her head. As she did, Momma Peach whacked her upside the head with her bowling pin. Lindsey caved, a stringless marionette, and dropped down onto the ground silent and unconscious. “If she doesn't play fair, than neither will I, baby,” Momma Peach told Michelle.
Michelle closed her eyes and drew in a few deep breaths. “Momma Peach, we need a vacation,” she said and let her arms lay on the ground without moving them.
“Yes, baby, we—” Momma Peach was interrupted by a bright flashlight beam. She looked over to her right and saw two men holding automatic machine guns. “Oh boy,” she whispered and prepared for the worst while hoping being shot to death wouldn't be very painful.
Chapter Nine
Charlie Jones stepped between the two thugs holding the automatic rifles and aimed the flashlight in his hand at Michelle. “Detective Chan, I presume?” he asked in a thick Chinese accent.
“Yes,” Michelle said and covered her eyes with her right hand and quickly stood up, ignoring her injuries.
“My name is Charlie Jones, Detective Chan,” Charlie said in a very displeased voice. He looked at Lindsey Sung who lay unconscious on the damp ground. “I have come to end the troubles you have caused and retrieve my injured sister.”
Momma Peach eased closer to Michelle. She studied Charlie with worried eyes. The man was of medium height, very thin, but with the face of a diseased tiger. The black suit he wore reminded her of Max Moroz’s clown costume. Every deadly creature wore different costumes, but their motives were all the same. “Your sister is taking a nap, boy,” she told Charlie.
Michelle eyed the two thugs standing next to Charlie. The thugs were mean in appearance, cold in the face, and programmed to kill when ordered. “Your sister is out of commission for now.”
“I watched the fight,” Charlie informed Michelle. “You did well against my sister. I should be impressed but I'm not. You have caused a considerable amount of trouble,” Charlie told Michelle in anger. “Detective Chan, I want you to go get Lionel Hayman and bring him to me. If you do, I will take him and my sister and leave in peace. If you refuse,” Charlie pointed at Momma Peach, “the woman dies.”
Michelle looked at Momma Peach just as the sound of an approaching car filled her ears. “That's Joan with Mr. Hayman,” she said loud enough for Charlie to hear.
Charlie looked toward the front of the main tent. “Who?” he demanded.
“Joan is one of my officers,” Michelle explained. “I ordered her to bring Mr. Hayman to the circus thirty minutes after me. She's a little late, but better late than never.”
Charlie nudged his two men. “Stand right where you are and wait,” he told them and eased back. “I'll hide behind the bleachers just in case there's any funny business.” Charlie jogged behind the bleachers and pulled out an ugly gun and waited. A few minutes later he saw a women cop walk into the main tent. A man with Lionel Hayman’s distinct hair was walking beside the woman with his hands handcuffed in front of him. “Very good,” Charlie whispered and began planning the death of Michelle, Momma Peach, Lionel and the woman cop.
“Here is Mr. Hayman,” Millie spoke in a tough cop voice. She was wearing Joan’s uniform and played the part perfectly.
Michelle glanced at Momma Peach.
“What's this about, then?” Sam fussed, keeping his head low and his face hidden. Sa
m's voice sounded identical to Lionel Hayman’s; an English accent that was rich and plummy. How? Momma Peach wasn't sure, but she sure was excited to see her Mr. Sam.
“Shut up,” Millie barked and shoved Sam forward. “Okay, Detective, here is your man.” Millie pointed to the two thugs holding the automatic rifles. “Who are they?”
“Drop your gun, cop!” one of the thugs yelled and aimed his gun at Millie.
“Do as he says, Joan,” Michelle said in a quick voice.
“I demand an explanation.” Sam said.
Millie ordered Sam to shut up and threw the gun in her utility belt holster down onto the ground. She felt silly dressed as a cop—but hey, when a new adventure presented itself you sure couldn't pass it by, now could you? “Okay, okay, take it easy, pal.”
Momma Peach wanted to hug Sam and Millie but resisted. Her babies were sure hard-headed but they had come to their rescue. Sometimes, she grinned, being a little hard-headed was a good thing, especially in Georgia. “Okay,” Michelle called out, “Hayman is here.”
Charlie began to step out from behind the bleachers. As he did, Old Joe appeared in the shadows and smacked the man right in the face with a wooden cane. Charlie saw stars and crashed backward. Old Joe, not one to waste any time, quickly slapped the gun out of Charlie's hand with his cane and then finished the man off with one more grand wallop to the face. Charlie Jones (or whoever the man was) landed face-first on the ground, old cold. Old Joe nodded his head even though he was scared half to death. “I think that’s a home run Momma Peach, but you're gonna give Old Joe more gray hair than he needs,” he whispered and then began tying Charlie up with some rope he had found.
“Charlie, get out here!” one of the thugs yelled, “Hayman is here.”
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