The car picked up speed on the descent. It wasn’t lightning fast by any stretch, but impact at fifteen miles an hour or more would be plenty for a building constructed of sheet metal.
The moment of impact was priceless. A car that could likely fetch little more than one hundred fifty dollars at auction sliding right into the sheet metal just next to the door. The Chevette was just tall enough and hit just hard enough to break out the window with the one-way tint. Tint ensuring no one could see inside. I had a clear line on two men through the window. Single taps and they were done. I stormed towards the door.
That was my first mistake.
If you’re going to take on the Korean mafia the first thing to remember is they know Korean martial arts. Well. Really well. I hadn’t even breached the door and I felt a chop right to the side of my head. I was down and not coming up anytime soon.
Sometime later I felt water splash on my face.
“Nice of you to join us.”
I shook my head to each side a few times. Kate was to my left. Kong facing me. One thug on either side. I was gagged with what seemed like was a t-shirt that was in bad need of a wash.
Kong squeezed Kate’s face hard. His thumb on one side of her mouth and his four fingers on the other.
“Pretty white lady like this going to make us a lot of money. I think they pay more for American. Russians are a dime a dozen. American going to bring big money. Her boy going to make us even more.”
I could see the tears in Kate’s eyes.
“You’re never going to find him. The cops are going to be here any minute.”
Kong laughed. “The cops? The cops are my best customers.”
“You’re lying.”
“They say when a man has no money you can see his true character. Not true, when a man has all the money, or all the power, then his true character is revealed.”
“You’re sick.”
“You will learn what sick is soon enough.”
Kong turned to me. “Creed, you surprise me. I am not only one who can survive big fall. News say you are second survivor in eight years. Congratulations. You survive fall, but you not going to survive what I have planned for you.”
He laughed.
“You know what it was like falling from that cliff in Korea into very shallow sea? I must hold my breath when I have no breath to hold. I come up and hide behind some rocks. You Americans don’t even respect me enough to make sure I dead. You underestimate me. You never make that mistake again. Maybe you find out today what it’s like to survive in water for a few minutes. Now let’s see if you can survive in water for a few weeks.”
He came closer and slapped me right in the mouth with a backhand. He stared at me directly in the eyes. “Jax Creed. Where you get funny name? You think you Superman? I show you creed. My creed is to show you what it like to die at sea.” He turned to his two thugs. “Put him in hard top to Odessa. Two centimeter air hole, three gallons of water and twenty banana.” He turned back to me and laughed. “We don’t want you dying on us on too quickly Superman.”
His head rolled back and he laughed a deep belly laugh. He clapped his hands and continued laughing. I had seen a lot of movies during our downtime in the SEALs. The hero versus villain was always a popular favorite. The villain always delivered the worst, stereotypical, Dr. Evil type laugh. I thought it was only in the movies. Not anymore. Kong was Dr. Evil personified.
His thugs pulled me up from the chair and pulled me towards the door.
“Not going to say good-bye to your girlfriend? She’s gonna be my girlfriend tonight.”
The thugs pulled me away and continued dragging me to the door.
“Wait. One more thing. You Americans all love baseball right? Your national pastime? First base I eliminate Harper, that double agent scum who only good for pawn then dispose. Second base, I finish what you tried to start. Third base, I embarrass American military. And home base I get granddaughter of Russian traitor…all…night…long. What you call this, Superman? Touchdown!”
I struggled to get at Kong but the thugs held me tighter. This was the worst kind of bottom feeder. Not only was he trafficking humans, he was using women and children as pawns in a battle they had no business in. I wanted to rip his guts out and step on them over, and over and over again. And he didn’t even know sports metaphors.
Kong continued to laugh as his two remaining thugs dragged me towards the door. I was running terribly low on time and options. We crossed the threshold and into the night, and continued down to the shipping containers.
“Welcome to your new home, dead man. Just think of it as a floating coffin and everything will make sense.” They shoved me out of the way and moved to the front of the containers.
“Boss said water and bananas.”
“It will rain sometime after he gets halfway across the Atlantic.” They laughed together as one opened the container and the other pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I could see the pack in the available light. It was red with two Chinese characters. Chunghwa. The most popular brand in China. I was expecting a popular American or Russian brand. What would they be doing with Chinese cigarettes?
“You got me. You win.”
“What you say, scum bag?”
“I said you got me. You win. There’s nothing more I can do.”
“You just figure that out?” They laughed uncontrollably.
“Let me have one last cigarette. One before I die in the middle of the ocean in a sardine can.”
“You want cigarette? Nothing free in this life. You earn cigarette.”
“Fair enough. How do I earn it?”
They looked at each other and laughed. The one on the right pulled out his Samsung mobile phone.
“You Navy SEAL, right?”
“I’m not active duty anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m a civilian.”
“But you were?”
How do I explain to him that there’s no such thing as a former Navy Seal? Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. More importantly what’s my plan? My stall tactic is barely working. I need some action.
“Yes, I was.”
“Good enough. You can pretend you still are.”
They spoke quickly in Korean and then began laughing again.
“You ready to be YouTube star?”
“I get a cigarette?”
“You gonna get a lot more than a cigarette.” They both laughed uncontrollably.
There was no way I was going to dishonor myself, my country, and the SEALs. Not an option. They could even torture me if they wanted. I’m not selling out.
“One cigarette first.”
“We in charge. Cigarettes after.”
“Okay. What are we doing?”
They laughed again. This was really getting old.
“We gonna teach you Korean prison song. Initiation song. Just think of it like karaoke.”
“I’m a good singer.”
They couldn’t control their laughter. “Singing in prison…a little different.” They laughed so hard they were bent over. Hands on their knees.
Now was my chance to show these guys how American sports work. I got a two step running start before they even realized it was coming. They were too close together. I had to choose one. I decided to give the guy on the left all I had, and for that I needed to follow through. I planted my left leg on the fifth step. This scum of the earth just had begun his upward motion in order to stand up straight. That only helped me more. By that point it was too late. My foot connected about twenty-four inches off the ground. I followed through like I was kicking a sixty yard field goal to win the Super Bowl. Blood went everywhere. At a minimum his nose was broken and his vision gone. I spun back into position and delivered a leg sweep taking down the other thug. I jumped for a face stomp but he rolled out of the way and he righted himself immediately getting to his feet. My hands were tied and I was about to square off with what was likely a martial arts expert. My odd
s had improved for about three seconds. Now they were falling again…fast.
He came at me in a flurry of fists and spins. I managed to dodge the initial onslaught but as he passed me he caught me with a reverse elbow to the kidney. I tasted blood immediately. He came back at me in another flurry finishing with a jump and elbow hammer to the shoulder. The pain was like a boulder dropping down. I felt the pain ripple through my entire body, sending me to the concrete. I instinctively rolled, which turned out to be a good idea as a boot landed where my head had just been. I rolled over like a turtle and stumbled to my feet. He just laughed at me.
“Where you want it?”
“Try me.”
“He came again but straight like a football tackle, he pulled up short at the last second and prepared to deliver cupped hands to each side of my head. My eardrums would have ruptured on impact, but I caught a break. I couldn’t take his charge standing still. At nearly two inches taller than my six foot five and probably fifty pounds heavier thanks to cocktails of steroids and blended egg whites it might have been the end of me if he landed it square. I took my forward momentum and landed a perfect head butt, cracking his nose. I had delivered two broken noses, but was still losing the battle. I had to free my hands from this rope. My belt prong was the only option. As the thug stumbled from the shock of impact and the blurred vision from the watery eyes that accompany a head butt I tried the prong. It was secured too well and even if I had been able to free it there’s no way it would have been sharp enough. The belt I left in the hospital when I walked out…a different story.
I was running out of options and fast. I made my way back to the men and delivered two more kicks to each to keep them down and off me. I couldn’t run. They’d eventually catch me. I couldn’t jump in the harbor. I wasn’t fit to swim. What to do?
I heard an owl noise ten yards to my left, in the darkness.
“Jax. Over here. Quick.”
I ran to the darkness by a dumpster. “Jerry, get out of here.”
“I saw everything. I got a piece of sheet metal. It’s sharp enough.” Jerry went to work simultaneously sawing through the rope with the sharp piece of metal and trying to untie the knot with his other hand. I never would have wanted, or trusted, a kid to be involved in such a situation. I knew Cole had been working a lot with Jerry, but still, this was way above what he should be exposed to. I also knew this was our only option and if Jerry didn’t get me free, he’d soon wind up with a fate similar to his mom and I.
The thugs started to come to and stumbled their way over towards the dumpster. From their position it looked like I was trying to rub the knot against the side of the dumpster. Jerry would be blocked from their view. If they got close I’d have to lunge in their direction, preventing them from knowing Jerry was here. The question was could Jerry get the rope off in time?
“Smooth is fast. Smooth is fast.” I kept hearing him repeat. I knew he got this from Cole. Get in a hurry and you’re almost sure to mess up the process prolonging the time. Stay calm, and smooth, and the fast times come quick. It was the saying we always used when disassembling and assembling our weapons. Jerry had learned it.
As they stumbled closer I felt the tension in the rope slack. They were seven yards out. At four yards I could almost free my hand. At three yards my left hand was out. At two yards one of the thugs came with a running kick in my direction. I ducked and his leg landed squarely on the cold steel dumpster. My left hand was free. My right hand had the rope still attached but was usable. I moved towards the other thug keeping my hands behind my back. He came with a jab. I pulled my hands from behind my back for a block. The surprise on his face was a combination of shock and anger. I rotated my hand down and away and grabbed his forearm. I lifted my right leg and delivered a downward blow with my boot to his shin. Tibia broken. I spun back just in time to see a circling fist coming towards my head from the thug who had thrown the kick. I ducked and had a clear shot at his groin. All is fair in love in war. I pulled my right elbow back and then thrust my fist forward, delivering the blow no man wants to receive. Ever. He was down and not getting up anytime soon. I put both in sleeper holds I had learned watching wrestling as a child on TV. Surprisingly they actually work. I removed the rope from my right hand and tied the two men to the dumpster. They weren’t finished, but they wouldn’t be able to free themselves anytime soon. And I was also leaving a trail for law enforcement. They’d surely find my prints at the scene so I needed to compile as much evidence in my favor as possible. I’d need it after they found the three dead bodies and I still didn’t know who was dirty and who wasn’t when it came to law enforcement on this case.
“Jerry, take this phone. Remember I told you to call the last number dialed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re going to run in this direction as far as you can for five minutes. I pointed. Go fast, but keep your eyes and ears open as you go. At five minutes dial the number and tell the girl your full name and that you’re at the Port of New Jersey at Seven Seas Import / Export and Jax Creed is requesting a response. Can you remember all that?”
“Yes, sir, but what about my mom?”
“I’m going to get her right now. Now go.”
Jerry took off without hesitation. I moved around back to the front door just in time to see Kong leading Kate out towards the car. I put the scope from the gun I took off the dead thug on the back of Kong’s head.
“Let her go, Kong. It’s over.” He froze, turning around slowly. He had the gun pointed directly in her chest. I couldn’t take a shot and he knew it.
“It’s over. You’re going to be surrounded in four minutes.” I wasn’t joking, but with the response time it would be more like seven.
“It’s never over, Creed. It’s never over, because you can’t finish. That’s your weakness. You can make your way to the water, but you can’t take a drink. Too weak.”
“I said…let…her…go.”
“You want me, Creed?”
“I got you, Kong.”
“You got nothing.”
“You take me like a man and you can have your worthless girl. Put down your weapon or I shoot her now.”
I knew someone as ruthless as Kong wasn’t joking. He would kill Kate if he thought there was no chance of his escape.
I slowly bent down to a knee and laid my pistol on the ground. Kong pushed her to the side and placed his weapon on the deck.
He extended his arms and called me with his hands. “You want her? Come get her.”
“Kate move behind the building.” Kate looked at me and then at Kong. I could see he wasn’t going to stop her, but there was nowhere for her to go once she was behind. She would have to jump in the water with her hands tied, and I was pretty sure she had never done thirty minutes of drownproofing. After she realized what was happening she ran for cover.
Kong was Korean and a taekwondo master so I was expecting a lot of kicks. Head high kicks and spins were the trademark of taekwondo. Even at one hundred percent I wouldn’t be able to take him in such a battle. At my current state of about fifty percent I didn’t stand a chance. I had to land a single lethal blow or take him to the ground and use my three months of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu training we had in the outskirts of Rio to my advantage. My mind flashed back to those months. The single SEALs were dialed in on the training, but were also dialed in in Rio’s famous nightlife. I had already started my family and as a married guy I opted for retiring to my room each night or going for a run on Copacabana’s famous boardwalk. That way I’d be fresh each morning and absorb the training like a sponge, getting the most out of the instruction. Being a dad was possibly going to save my life.
I ran directly at Kong. I could see him smile. He began the spin for his kick as I was about a yard and a half away. He was expecting me to stay waist high. No such luck. I was about to teach Kong the lessons he seemed to lack regarding American sports. My mind flashed back to high school baseball. The slide drill to prevent double plays. I slid f
eet first into his plant leg. He definitely spun, but not the single rotation he thought. He completed a seven hundred twenty degree turn and went straight down. I jumped on top of him, knowing I didn’t want to get into a long battle with a healthier, rested competitor. I delivered a downward punch towards his head, but he rolled to my right throwing me from his body and jumping back to his feet. One take down, one opportunity lost. We were back to square one.
“You surprise me, Creed. You move fast for old cripple.”
Kong slid my direction. His feet moving in a staccato marching action as he moved his hands in short striking motions. As he got closer I threw an uppercut and missed. I was exposed and greeted with a flurry of short, but very painful strikes to my midsection. It’s amazing how much power martial artists can generate from such short strikes. Then came the kick to the back of my hamstring which dropped me. I was down.
Protector: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 15) Page 10