by Jay Cannon
“I grab the person by the crotch and twist my body real fast,” explained Adar, demonstrating the move. “What is the cage fighting they talked about?”
“I’m an MMA fighter. You know, mixed martial arts,” the woman said, taking a fighting stance.
“I never heard of it. Sounds interesting though. I would like to see one of your fights,” Adar said.
“Of course. By the way, thanks for saving me. I’m Yolanda,” she said, holding out a hand. “Want to come by my place for a drink? I’d like to thank you, properly.”
Yolanda was a statuesque, muscular beauty with curly, dark hair fashioned in a short afro, deep brown eyes, full lips and hips to match. She wasn’t much for conversation or waxing poetic with intellectual guys. She didn’t like dumb men without ambition, either. She liked getting raw and physical with a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. Someone like Adar appeared to be. Yummy!
Though she had a degree in political science, Yolanda spent most of her time perfecting her MMA skills, her bigger passion, to the extent that she had quit her job at a lobbying firm to pursue fighting full-time. Of course, the coworker’s finger that she broke for patting her ass had something to do with her change in careers as well.
Fighting didn’t pay much, at least for now. So all she could afford was a small one-bedroom apartment near State Street and South Lowe on the south side of Chicago. The area was crime-ridden, but cheap.
Yolanda didn’t like to sleep around, but she did have needs. She avoided men in the neighborhood and ones at the gym. Adar, however, had possibilities. He could probably teach me a thing or two about fighting. And why not get me some, while I’m at it? I bet he could take me hard! Yolanda thought.
“I am Adar,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I would like to find out.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain as we go,” she assured him, grabbing his arm and leading him toward her place.
***
Seamus Duggan became a Chicago mob boss early in life. He ran criminal operations in North Chicago, including the coveted Gold Coast, where tall luxury condominium buildings lined the western shore of Lake Michigan. Business leaders, senior politicians, and even celebrities such as Oprah, John Cusack and Vince Vaughn lived there. Seamus kept the rich satiated with prostitutes and drugs, and they paid him handsomely and kept the police off his back.
Seamus was a short bowling ball of a man who enjoyed punching an opponent’s face in. He used his fists, in fact, to batter his way up through the ranks to become a mob boss in Chicago. When the previous boss unexpectedly died, Seamus fought the other lieutenants for the top spot, leaving them broken and bloody. His short stature made him difficult to hit and made it impossible for opponents to duck his punches. The best a person could hope to achieve was to outrun him and keep running. Seamus had too much class to shoot a person in the back.
Seamus ran his operation like a corporation and even owned legitimate businesses. His people had healthcare, retirement plans, and even gym memberships. His one blind spot was trust. He counted on his men to manage the collection of funds from the street, believing paying his people well kept them from wanting to skim from him. However, his team, being greedy, could not resist taking extra money. His lieutenants figured they would eventually cash out or run like hell if he caught them.
Daloi, Dholi, and Tatan walked into Seamus’s office at the top of a building in Lincoln Park where he ran his drug operation. Daloi had convinced Alegra, a hooker she met during their outing, to get them a meeting with the mob boss.
“Hello, Seamus,” said Daloi, shaking his hand. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
“How could I say no to Alegra’s passionate plea for an introduction,” Seamus said, eyeing his visitors with keen interest. “You made quite an impression on her.”
“We can be quite persuasive when we need to be. We thought a man like you could use our talents to help make sure your operation runs smoothly.” Daloi smiled with satisfaction.
“Forgive me. You are quite attractive, which may entice people to do your bidding. However, you don’t seem like enforcer types to me,” Seamus said, his voice condescending.
“I can understand why you might be a little hesitant to trust strangers. Why don’t we give you a sample of our skills? I hear Ronny over there has been skimming from you. Let’s find out what he does with the money,” Daloi suggested, walking over to a man sitting in an armchair to Seamus’s right.
“Seamus, the bitch is crazy!” cried the guy named Ronny. “You know I wouldn’t steal from you.”
“Just relax, Ronny,” Dholi said, grabbing the man’s hand and rubbing his neck.
“Yes, take it easy, Ronny,” said Daloi, grabbing his other hand. “It’s just the three of us here. Don’t you want us to make you happy?” she said, rubbing his chest.
“Yes, I do.” Ronny was panting.
“Is it easy to hide money from Seamus?” Daloi inquired in a soft voice.
“Yeah, he’s so busy kissing politicians’ asses he doesn’t have time to monitor what we’re doing.” Ronny snickered, his true feelings surfacing as toxins from the Cheoili’s hands overwhelmed him.
“So where do you keep the extra money?” Daloi asked.
“I ship most of it to the Bahamas where I run some gambling rackets. Once my casino opens there, I’m leaving this dump. I hate the winters here.”
“Who else knows about this?” whispered Daloi.
“My boy, Giorgio. He helps me run the operation,” Ronny said, hooking thumbs in his lapels and grinning widely.
Daloi looked back at Seamus to see his reaction.
Seamus nodded once, and Dholi covered Ronny’s mouth while Tatan held his legs. Daloi then dug her fingers into Ronny’s chest and ripped out his heart.
Daloi held Ronny’s heart out to Seamus as if offering him a trophy before she licked it, all the while studying the mob boss for his reaction.
“What do you think, Seamus?” Daloi asked. “Do we have a job?”
“Yes. For now, you certainly do. Your first task will be to take control of those gambling operations and get me my money back,” he replied, pounding his desk for emphasis.
“I will be delighted to.” Daloi tossed the heart into the trash and wiped her hands on Ronny’s pants. “Tatan, I need you to memorize this guy’s looks for me,” she said briskly.
“I can do that,” Tatan replied, studying Ronny’s face.
“Do you want me to check the rest of your staff to see what they’re hiding?” Daloi asked Seamus.
Stan, another of Seamus’s lieutenants, stood abruptly. “Boss, this ain’t right.”
Seamus glanced at him briefly, before telling Daloi, “That’ll do for now. But I do need you to clean up that mess.”
Daloi, who began watching Stan after his outburst, slinked over to the mobster, grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him on the lips. “Stan, you don’t mind taking care of this mess for us, do you?”
“No, not at all,” he replied, confusion contorting his swarthy features.
“Good boy.” Daloi patted Stan on the head. She then crossed her arms and shot Seamus a smirk over her shoulder.
“You three are going to work out just fine, Daloi.” Seamus laughed, thinking that Daloi’s antics were delightful.
***
Adar followed Yolanda into her apartment and took a look around while she visited the ladies room. She clearly lived a Spartan lifestyle. No pictures hung on the walls, and a few pieces of rickety furniture filled her tiny living room, along with a small TV for entertainment.
“Adar, have a seat on the couch, and I’ll grab you a beer.” Yolanda returned to the room, wearing a red t-shirt and matching jogging pants. “You okay with Bud Light? That’s about all I can afford.”
“Sure, that sounds fine,” replied Adar. He had no idea what she meant, but thought he would at least give it a try.
“Here you go.” Yolanda hande
d him a can, after popping the top, and then plopped down on the worn, tweed couch next to him. “I have to tell you that men who can fight and respect women just turn me on, tremendously. Cheers!” She sighed, clinking Adar’s beer with her own can.
Adar said, “Cheers,” and took a swig. “This is fizzy. Does it contain alcohol?”
“Yes. Haven’t you had beer before?” Yolanda smiled and nudged Adar. Her eyes sparkled, though one had been blackened in the fight. She didn’t care–the pain of the altercation was already behind her. She wondered when Adar would tear off her clothes.
“No, and I can probably do without any more,” Adar said, grimacing after his first taste of the brew.
“That’s okay. I can think of something else we can do to pass the time,” Yolanda cooed, before setting her beer on the scarred coffee table her mother gave her. She leaned toward the alien to kiss his neck.
“Do I detect cinnamon cologne? You smell just like a cookie, and right now all I want to do is eat you,” she said, nibbling his neck. “Come on into my bedroom.”
Yolanda took Adar by the hand and led him into her darkened bedroom where she started to take off her clothes.
Adar watched her disrobe, using his acute eyesight to view her every curve and muscle. She was fit, but didn’t have tough skin like female Ossies.
Not what I had hoped for. But any port in space, he thought.
Adar undressed and pushed Yolanda against the wall. He then wrapped his hands around her thighs, lifting her until her lips met his.
Now that is a man with vim and vigor, the woman thought, screeching with delight and digging her nails into the alien’s shoulders. Adar used his long, soft tongue to ensure she was thoroughly moist. He then lowered her into place and began thrusting into her.
That’s what I like, a strong man who knows what he wants and takes it. Yolanda moaned as pleasure filled her core. Then she noticed that Adar was losing his balance.
“What’s wrong, are you getting weak in the knees?” she asked.
The tiny amount of alcohol he imbibed in the mouthful of beer had taken its toll on the alien’s equilibrium, making him teeter with the wriggling woman in his arms. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you,” Yolanda crooned, easing herself off of him.
Yolanda pushed Adar onto the bed behind him, straddled his waist and proceeded to take charge. She grabbed his wrists, pinning him to the bed, and drove herself against him, until ecstasy hit her like strong waves crashing into a rocky shore. “Oh, that is so good.” She groaned and squirmed enthusiastically.
The entire time that Yolanda had her way with Adar, the alien emitted growly whimpers as he tried to regain his strength. Resigning himself to being taken, Adar was enthralled by the multiple peaks and lulls of sensations coursing through him.
Yolanda exhausted herself with the energetic workout and rested her head on Adar’s chest. Minutes later, she rolled off of him and lit a candle.
“What’s with the funky tattoo and black mask? Are you part of some strange gang?” she asked. Her arms akimbo and hands gripping her sides, she gave Adar a stern look.
Adar stared at her blankly. Confused by the questions and drained by the sex and alcohol, he just threw up his hands.
“And where the hell are your balls?” she asked. “Okay, you’re just a bit too strange for me. Thanks for helping me out and the sex” –she paused to snicker–“but you gotta go. Go on, get out of my apartment. If I get in the mood to have sex with a man with tiger stripes all over his body again, I’ll give you a call.”
Adar grabbed his clothes and his glasses and walked out, frustrated. First time I’ve ever gotten that reaction from a woman. I guess I should have kept my glasses on. Why can’t I find a Raina or Rhana down here?
***
Daloi and Tatan met with Ronny’s boy, Giorgio, at his Wicker Park apartment to learn more about the money Ronny had skimmed from Seamus with Giorgio’s help.
“Hi, Giorgio. This is my new woman, Daloi,” said Tatan, posing as Ronny. “Forgive me for dropping over here out of the blue, but the boss is on to us. Where are the books?”
“You know where the books are,” said Giorgio. “Why are you asking me?”
“Humor me,” said Tatan, grabbing Giorgio behind the neck and giving him a gentle stare.
“Sure. They’re in the safe. Let’s go get them.” Giorgio handed the books to Tatan, who began poring over them.
“Thanks. I’ll get these back to you. Why don’t you get everyone together so I can explain how we are going to be operating going forward?”
“I should be able to set something up for tonight. I’ll ping you once that happens.”
“Great. I look forward to seeing you all tonight,” said Tatan, walking out with Daloi.
“Once we get an understanding of who the players are, we will exterminate Giorgio and you’ll take his place,” said Daloi. “Slowly but surely, we will make Seamus’ empire our own.”
Chapter 5
Cage Fighting
Malcolm sat up in bed contemplating his life, as he listened to his mother leave the apartment, headed to her next job. What can I do to make a difference? All my life I’ve been afraid. Afraid of being beat up, afraid of going hungry, afraid my mother would disappear, leaving me alone. I want to stop being afraid of bad things happening and step up and defeat them when they appear.
In answer to my prayers, the Almighty sent me this amazing gift of Adar. He’s short, doesn’t know our culture, and is trying to find other aliens who act like chameleons in Chi Town, which has nearly 3 million residents. But he charges head-on at a problem, taking down anybody who gets in his way. I need to go help him. I need to go learn from him. Maybe I’m worried that if he leaves I’ll go back to being afraid again. Maybe I will, but for now, I choose to face my fears.
With new resolve, Malcolm leapt out of bed, pulled on a polo shirt in his school colors, slid into a pair of G-Star jeans, laced up his new pair of Sketchers and headed to Adar’s place.
***
“What are you still doing here?” Adar asked, walking into his house. Malcolm was perched on the edge of the couch watching an episode of The Walking Dead. In it, he noticed how the good guys stayed ahead of the zombies. He perked up at the sight of Adar.
“I thought about what you told me, and I want to help you find those bad guys.” Malcolm grinned ruefully. “You did help me get rid of my bad guys.”
Though Malcolm returned to Adar’s house to face his fears, he also envisioned embarking on a space adventure. How cool would it be to stand on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, helping Captain Kirk kill the Klingons? Now, here I am in the middle of my own sci-fi thriller, and I don’t want to pass it up because I’m too afraid.
“If you want to help, tell me about MMA,” Adar prodded.
“You mean mixed martial arts?”
“Yes, that.”
“It’s where two people go into a boxing ring, arena, or cage and fight each other. The fighters can use their hands, feet, or other parts of their body to attack their opponent. It’s much more interesting than boxing, but more dangerous for the fighters. There are matches at different places across town. There should be one at the UIC Forum tomorrow night, if you want to see one.”
“Good. I want to go see it,” said Adar, punching his fist into the palm of his hand.
Malcolm became excited, realizing he could do something for Adar. He had never seen him in such a good mood before. “I can go with you, right? I can help explain everything about the fighting to you.”
“Sure. Just stay out of the way,” said Adar, uneasy about having to rely on a juvenile human.
“Do you fight in arenas where you come from?” asked Malcolm, eager to learn more about Adar’s life in space.
“Yes, I do some of that from time to time,” Adar bragged.
“I’ll bet you’re pretty good. Do you fight different-looking aliens like in Star Wars? Do you have any pictures?”
“
I do not know your Star Wars so I can’t tell you if our aliens are similar to the ones you’ve seen or not. There are a variety of aliens that I have fought on my ship. Here, let me show you.” Adar sat next to Malcolm on the couch and pulled out his UCD.
Malcolm watched attentively as Adar showed him stills and videos from a few of his matches. The scenes astonished the teen, many of them showing the different forms of humanoid creatures. “What’s that in the background?” Malcolm pointed to an area on the screen behind the fighters.
“That is a group of entertainers they use to help fill the quiet moments between matches. The promoters like to keep people in their seats, so they have bizarre acts perform magic tricks, shoot fire out of their mouths or do other things that will attract the attention of the crowd,” explained Adar, gesturing wildly with his arms.
“That person looks a bit outlandish, sort of like the performer on our planet named Madonna. Is she flying?” Malcolm pointed to movement across the screen.
“She is probably just wearing an antigravity belt or using an antigravity pad. The Euclidian discovered a way to control gravity some time ago. However, there is a species that can control gravity mentally and kind of fly without technology. They almost destroyed our ship.”
“How did your ship survive?” Malcolm asked, hoping to hear a Star Wars-like story.
“We killed them all. At least most of them. We have one confined in a holding cell back on my ship,” Adar said, without embellishment.
That revelation shocked Malcolm, and he wondered if Adar’s presence heralded a prelude to a full invasion. “So is that our fate? Are you going to kill all of us?”
“I am just here to find three escapees and then I’m headed back to my ship,” said Adar, avoiding a direct answer to Malcolm’s question.
“I’d love to see it someday. I always wanted to be part of a great galactic adventure. We have lots of science fiction movies that pretend they know what life is like on other populated planets. You really know. You really live on a spaceship,” Malcolm said, his eyes large as saucers.