Twelve

by Dustin Stevens

  “Yeah, why?” Will asked in short, clipped tones.

  “You’re breathing’s loud. Sweat’s rolling off you. Veins are popping in your arms and your fists are clenched.”

  “So?”

  “So, in short, you’re pissed.”

  “And you’re not?!”

  “I’m mad, I’m not pissed," Heath said.

  “The difference being? And don’t go doctor on me here.”

  “Well, the basics such as dehydration aside, mad is good. It can use anger as fuel. Pissed has a tendency to get out of control.”

  Will exhaled again. Said nothing.

  “He’s right,” Kelly murmured. “At the Academy they made us take seminars on this sort of thing.”

  The three of them walked on in silence. After a few moments, the sound of Will’s breathing was replaced with the crunching of the earth beneath their feet.

  The path continued to climb and after a few more minutes, the earthen floor beneath them ended. The walls shifted from exposed earth to cinder block. The ground changed back into polished concrete.

  “Looks like we’re getting back to ground level,” Heath said.

  “Good. Ground level is more likely to have an exit,” Will responded.

  Heath glanced over at Kelly, walking between them. Her eyes were now dry, though tear streaks still patterned her face. “What else do you know about these guys?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something tells me they don’t come together from all over the world just to stage a fight night.”

  Kelly shook her head. “No, they don’t. These events actually serve a dual purpose. First, they act as a once-a-year banquet. They allow everybody to come together and celebrate. Hobnob. That sort of thing.

  “Second, it allows them to evaluate potential partners.”

  “What are they celebrating?” Heath asked.

  “And partners for what?” Will chipped in.

  Kelly glanced from one to the other. “The answer is actually one in the same.

  “The people you met upstairs represent one of the largest drug coalitions in the world. Probably THE largest not ran by a cartel. Once a year they come together to celebrate their success and to evaluate potential new markets.”

  “So every one of those well-to-do old farts up there is a drug runner?” Will spat.

  “Not directly. Drug distribution is a major business. It needs transportation, government assistance, everything. Most of the people you met are probably some sort of shipping magnates, government officials, distribution tycoons, etc.”

  Heath glanced over Kelly to Will. “Like the Klauff’s.”

  “Like the Klauff’s,” Will agreed.

  The three walked on in silence until Will threw a thick arm across Kelly and Heath. He brought a finger to his lips and pointed down the path.

  A few dozen yards ahead, a body lay motionless on the ground.

  The three cautiously made their way down the hallway, watching for any sign of other fighters.

  There was none.

  When they reached the body Heath knelt down and examined him as Will stood watch.

  “He’s gone. Looks like something infiltrated his tear duct and pierced his frontal lobe.”

  “In English!” Will said.

  Heath pushed back off his knees and rose to full height. “Dude got stabbed in the face. Maybe an hour or two ago.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kelly walked up between them. “That’s Katsu Okahato. I think he’s from somewhere in Japan.”

  The three stood and stared down at him for a moment.

  “What’s in these little get-togethers for the fighters?” Will asked. “I’m guessing they weren’t all tricked into coming the way I was.”

  “Each year it’s different. Word is, this year the winner takes home ten million or five percent of the house take, whichever is higher. Could be as much as fifteen million, depending on how much is bet.”

  Heath let out a slow whistle.

  Will stared at the body of Okahato. “And if they lose, they’re lucky to go home at all.”

  Kelly shook her head. “Nobody goes home if they lose.”

  Sixty-Seven

  Winston was right. While this might not be one of the matchups receiving the most wagers, it did promise to be one of the most entertaining.

  Jannike and Aello saw each other at the same time. Each rounded a corner at far opposite ends of the hallway and paused to take in the situation. Over fifty yards separated them, but both stood and stared at the other.

  Aello was the first to break into a smile.

  Jannike was just a second behind.

  “This should be good,” Jannike said, drawing the middle of ‘good’ out several extra syllables.

  “For sure,” Aello responded. “Better than having to wrestle with some sweaty behemoth.”

  The two sauntered forward towards one another.

  Jannike, raised upright by her boots, walked straight forward. Her red hair, spiked bracelets and necklace glinted beneath the overhead lights.

  Aello moved in a side-to-side fashion. Her shoulders and hips swayed back and forth in a rhythmic motion that avoided moving in a straight line. She had torn her dress off at the knees, though the slit on her hip still made it rotate several inches at a time as she walked.

  The two walked towards for one another, the hardwood floor clattering beneath their shoes. When at last they stopped just eight feet, the length of the fine Persian rug on the ground, separated them.

  “You are a beautiful woman. Under different circumstances, I might like to take you home,” Jannike said.

  “I am a beautiful woman. Far too beautiful for a woman with the hair of a clown and the necklace of a dog.”

  Jannike’s eyes narrowed a bit. Her head tilted to the side.

  Aello raised her eyebrows. “Shall we?”

  The two stepped on the rug and began to circle one another. Jannike kept her sinewy arms rested by her sides while Aello held hers in front of her, continuing to move in a slow, snakelike rhythm.

  Jannike was the first to strike. She took a quick shuffle step to her right and shot a boot high past Aello’s head. Aello dodged the kick and slid past her.

  Jannike followed the momentum of the kick to the edge of the rug. She whirled and fired two straight punches at Aello’s head, followed by a left hook that just missed.

  Aello maintained her rhythmic pace, using it to dodge each of the blows. After the missed hook she dropped to a knee and swung a hard circle kick out at Jannike’s shins.

  Jannike jumped over the kick and threw a hard overhand right. The punch just barely grazed the shoulder of a perpetually-in-motion Aello.

  The two both rose to their feet and stood across from each other, resuming their circle.

  “Not too bad,” Aello said.

  “You’re better than I expected as well.”

  A thin smile crossed both their faces.

  Jannike burst forward, trying again for the high kick. Aello dodged it as well and struck her with an open palm thrust to the small of her back.

  The blow carried her off the edge of the rug and as she turned, a straight kick caught her in the solar plexus. The air was forced from her lungs and she hunched just a bit at the waist. A straight cross came right for her face.

  Using her right hand Jannike grabbed Aello’s forearm by the wrist and pushed it past. She retained her grip on the wrist and raised her left hand high, raking her studded bracelets across Aello’s skin.

  A series of deep lacerations blossomed forth with blood. Aello stumbled back a step and looked at it dripping down her forearm.

  Jannike stepped forward onto the rug, a smug smile on her face. “Guess you’re not so pretty anymore. Just have to put you down right here and find someone else to take home tonight.”

  Aello ran her forearm along the side of her skirt, leaving deep crimson stains on the fabric and several smear stains across her arm. She pushed her left le
g forward and parted the skirt at the slit, exposing a garter belt with several small daggers lining it. “So you want to play those games huh?”

  Jannike’s eyes bulged a bit. “We were all ran through a metal detectors as we passed through the front door. How did you get those in here?”

  Aello patted her thigh. “Ceramics. Twice as sharp, just as durable as steel. And they don’t show up on a metal detector.”

  Jannike looked at the blood beginning to congeal on Aello’s arm and smiled. “I shall have to take those from you after we’re done here. They could be useful.”

  Aello held her hands in front of her and began to circle again.

  Jannike’s smile slid from her face as she did the same.

  For a third time, she came in hard with a high kick to Aello’s head. This time Aello dropped to a knee and grabbed Jannike’s leg with her right hand.

  With her left she slid out the first dagger and jammed it deep into Jannike’s inner thigh. A pained cry and warm blood both poured forth.

  As the momentum from the kick carried Jannike forward, Aello pulled the knife from her leg and slashed it across her knee.

  For a moment, white bone was exposed.

  A second later, dark red blood flowed over it.

  Jannike cried out again as her left leg buckled beneath her and she fell into a heap.

  Aello stood and walked out onto the rug. She then turned and faced Jannike.

  Using her hands, Jannike rotated her body to face Aello. Blood flowed from her leg and knee, leaving heavy streaks across the wood floor.

  Aello looked down at the gashes on her arm. “It’s funny...I think you look better this way.”

  Saliva dripped from Jannike’s mouth as she glared at Aello. “Go to hell.”

  Aello smiled one last time. “You first.”

  She flicked the dagger sideways at Jannike. It creased through the bridge of her nose without the slightest resistance.

  Jannike fell straight back with just the handle of the dagger protruding from between her eyes.

  Aello walked forward and pulled another dagger from her thigh. Using it as a knife, she cut a sash from the bottom two inches of Jannike’s skirt and cut another large piece of fabric off her right leg.

  The first she used as a bandage, wrapping it around the cuts on her arm.

  The second she used to wipe Jannike’s blood off her hands. When she was done she dropped it atop Jannike’s body and walked away without looking back.

  Sixty-Eight

  Jenna clutched the cell-phone in her hand. The carpet in front of the couch offered little resistance as she paced back and forth across the living room.

  Something was very wrong.

  She scrolled through her call log again and found Will’s number. She pressed send, only a moment later to be greeted by his familiar voice telling her he was unable to come to the phone. “Damn it Will, where are you?”

  She clicked off the call and went back to her call log. Leap-frogged past Will’s name and tried Heath’s phone again. Within seconds, he too was asking her to leave a message.

  Neither phone rang.

  Jenna raised a hand to her brow and continued pacing. Her feet were aching and her back was beginning to strain from being on her feet for so long. “Son of a bitch. Come on guys, give me something here!”

  She picked up an unopened can of soda from the coffee table and carried it back into the kitchen. She had brought it out an hour ago to help her stay awake.

  It was now apparent she wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.

  She placed it back into the refrigerator and closed the door. At eye level a magnet outlining emergency contact numbers stared back at her. Among them was the firehouse Will worked at.

  The only other person Jenna could think to call was their mother, and she knew better than that. The boys would never wake her at this hour. Hearing from Jenna would only worry her.

  Jenna punched in the numbers on the magnet, bypassing the search for Will’s work number in her phone.

  The line rang three times, followed by a gruff voice responding. “Fire Station 9.”

  Jenna recognized the voice of their friend Mitch Newell. “Um, yea, yes! This is Jenna Honeycutt calling.”

  Immediately the tone changed. “Hey Jenna, how are you?”

  “I’m...well, I’m a little worried right now. You wouldn’t happen to have seen Will tonight would you?”

  Jenna could hear the sound of chair springs creaking. “Well Jenna, it’s almost two in the morning. We haven’t seen or heard from Will tonight. Is everything alright?”

  “Um, well, I don’t know. He left here around six to go to a benefit for the orphanage that burned down. Somebody came and picked him up in a fancy black car and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Newell took several long moments to respond.

  “Jenna, I wish I had more to tell you but I really don’t know. It’s only been about seven or eight hours. Did he go alone?”

  “Um, no. He called his brother to meet him there.”

  “Have you tried calling him?”

  “Several times. No answer from him either.”

  Newell pondered another few moments. “You know, sometimes my brother and I like to go out, have a nightcap or watch a ballgame. Just the two of us.

  “We don’t get a chance to very often with our families and stuff. I’m sure they just stopped off somewhere after the benefit and he’ll be home soon.”

  Jenna weighed the response a moment. It did kind of make sense. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. I’m just worrying over nothing. Thank you Mitch.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night Jenna!”

  “Good night.”

  Jenna thumbed the phone off and clutched it to her chest. She walked to the front windows and stared out into the darkness.

  As much sense as the explanation made in her head, she still couldn’t shake the uneasiness in her stomach.

  Sixty-Nine

  “Jesus, can anything else go wrong?”

  Rosner finished wiping his glasses and placed them back atop his nose. “What seems to be the problem this time?”

  Winston threw an exasperated hand towards the screen. “Weren’t you watching that?”

  “Of course. It was a well fought match and everything we’re looking for.”

  “Everything we’re looking for?” Winston asked, agitation on his face.

  “Two attractive women. Differing fighting styles beautifully choreographed. Some underhanded tactics and a fatal finale. Yes, I would say that’s everything we’re looking for. Not to mention, the crowd loved it.”

  Winston glared at him again and stared out over the room. As much as he hated to admit it, the finish had received the largest cheer of the night. “But yet again, we were exposed for having a hole in our operation.”

  “And what hole was that?”

  Winston threw another hand to the screen. “No weapons!”

  Rosner wagged a finger at him. “Correction. There were to be no metal weapons, and there are not. We installed and employed metal detectors along the front entrance. That is all the governing bylaws mandated. If a few enterprising competitors found ways to cheat the system, good for them.”

  “Another bylaw states doing everything we can to ensure the integrity of the competition. How exactly does what just happened accomplish that?”

  “How is what just happened any different from Jannike’s bracelets or what Li did earlier?”

  “Li didn’t bring in a knife belt!”

  “Oh come of it. Li could have stuck a pencil in her hair. Instead, she used a rod strong enough to penetrate the human skull. Don’t tell me it’s any different.”

  Winston fumed as he pushed himself up from the table.

  “Besides,” Rosner said, “look at it this way. That knife belt could be a blessing for us. Now there’s one more legit contender in the field.”

  Winston looked down at the machine on their table and watched the
numbers for Aello climb.

  “Before those knives, nobody in this room believed she could compete with the big boys. Now?” Rosner held a hand towards the machine to prove his point.

  Winston glanced from the machine to Rosner and proceeded to the podium. He pulled the grid of fighters up to the screen and crossed Jannike from the list.

  He replaced the grid with the schematic of the grounds. His hope was to see another matchup to drive the previous one from mind.

  What he found was even better.

  Seventy

  “You alright?”

  “Now I’m a little pissed off too,” Heath admitted.

  Without thinking, Will laughed aloud at the admission. “I seem to remember somebody telling me that angry was good, pissed off was dangerous.”

  “Yeah, well that was before I realized we may die in here tonight.”

  “What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I thought we might take a beating or two, but that we’d ride it out until morning," Heath said. "You’d go home to your family and I’d go back to the hospital.”

  “Isn’t that still the plan?”

  “Yeah, but now it’s a best-case scenario. Twenty minutes ago it was a worst-case scenario.”

  Will rolled his neck from side to side, letting out several low popping noises.

  Heath muttered a few muted tones to himself. “What are you thinking over there?”

  Will pursed his lips for a moment. “Well, I also seem to remember somebody saying we should win the whole fucking thing. Guess right now that’s the plan I’m going with.”

  Ahead of them, the path came to a tee. The three approached it slow, Will and Heath on either end, ready for whatever may lie around the corner.

  There was not going to be a repeat of what happened with Toulson.

  Each of them stepped from around the corner, ready for whoever may lie in wait.

  This time, nobody was there.

  “What do you make of that?” Kelly asked. She walked from between them and pointed down at the hardwood floor of the hallway. On the ground was a trail of red smudges.