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The Falau Files Box Set 1

Page 43

by Mike Gomes


  Falau could see he was getting to the big man. He was no fool. He knew that in an equal fight Wyatt had more size, strength, and technique than he did. This was not his path to victory. He needed to level the playing field. He had to find a way to bridge the gap in all of the areas that he was so far behind in. If he did not he knew that Wyatt could afford to just swap punches with him because his strikes were substantially more painful and devastating than anything he could dish out.

  Wyatt took a shuffle step forward and kicked out hard and low curling his right foot so it was on its side and flat. The top of his foot struck hard against the side of Falau’s calf causing a rapid sting down the side of it followed by a slight buckle. The nerve endings had fired off with instantaneous pain.

  His return came without delay. Falau saw the opportunity to catch him off guard with one leg in the air and placed his weight to his stronger leg and fired off as hard as he could. The punch landed clean and embedded itself in the orbital socket of Wyatt who stumbled backwards as his hat flew from his head. Catching his balance the cowboy instinctively reached up and felt his eye for blood but there was none just the instant start of swelling.

  “So that’s why you wear the hat. Your balding.” quipped Falau. “Just shave it man. Michael Jordan made that look popular over twenty years ago.”

  Wyatt met the insults with anger and not words. He visibly gritted his teeth like an angry dog ready to attack. His fists clenched hard as he adjusted his grip.

  Gabriela watched keeping a hand on the back of Duke’s shirt as he sat on the ground. She looked like a woman holding a dog on a leash. Falau’s tactics were impressive to her. She knew he was trying to get into the head of Wyatt but she also knew that was a Herculean task with a man that had the obvious skills of Wyatt. Getting him to lose his composure was going to be difficult. She had been told to stand down for the fight but would not let Falau die without standing up for him.

  Wyatt ran hard at Falau like a football player grabbing him around the waist and trying to wrap his legs with his arms and drive him into the ground. Once on the ground Wyatt would turn to the years of study he had in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

  Falau read the move and pushed hard and down on the big man’s back when he got to within a foot of him. He back pedaled and continued to push his hands down guiding Wyatt to a face full of dirt and empty hands. The power was lacking without the ability to set his feet but it also brought up an opportunity. Falau sprung forward on an instant and leapt into the air three feet and dropped down knee first into the right side of his back. The ends of several ribs snapped on impact and the air was forced out of Wyatt’s lungs. The big man gasped for air while letting out a grunt that resembled a whimper due to having no air behind it. In smooth succession Falau struck his fist down on the kidney of Wyatt causing him to flinch in pain. Falau rained down more blows as fast as he could, damaging the back, spine, and kidneys of Wyatt

  The cowboy was far from done. He had not lasted this long in his profession from getting beaten in fights by men he considered lesser opponents. As Falau lifted a hand high for a punch the full weight of Falau was no longer on Wyatt and he seized the moment to roll hard and to the left pulling himself from underneath his attacker. He rolled two more times and pushed himself up to his feet with great dexterity. He stood beside Gabriela who had a wide smirk on her face after Falau’s recent success.

  “What the fuck are you smiling at?” snapped Wyatt slightly turning his face to the woman. His leg fired back and to the side catching Gabriela square on the face. She fell to the ground mouth bloodied and a tooth now missing from the top right of her mouth. She shook her head and spit the tooth from her mouth and the steady stream of blood from where it sat.

  Duke felt the hand let go of the back of his shirt as he watched the kick from Wyatt knock the beautiful woman off her feet. He smiled at her pain still feeling the sting of being manipulated by her in the bar just a day before. The embarrassment had still not silenced in his mind. He slid himself a little further away and got his feet under him.

  Falau wanted to attack instantly watching Gabriela take the vicious kick to the face but that was exactly what Wyatt wanted. He wanted to change the course of things to his advantage thought Falau. He has seen through my plan and is trying to reflect it back on me. He would not be so foolish as he was before. He was standing his ground but not moving forward. Like many great fighters he was looking to counter punch and kick his way to a victory. Judo and Krav Maga were experts at using one’s own body weight and momentum against them and now Wyatt was just waiting to implement his skills.

  The younger man started to circle the cowboy again but this time the cowboy just shuffled his feet and turned with him. No large steps and moving about. He had found a patch of land he liked and he was sticking with it. Falau would need to make the first move if he wanted the ground for himself. A game of king of the hill just like when he was a kid on the playground.

  Drawing in close Falau made his move dropping low and sweeping his leg to knock out Wyatt’s feet from under him. Wyatt was up to the task and jumped above the kick and attempted to land with one of his own to the knee of Falau, but he was too fast and dust sprang up from the ground with the missed kick. Falau pivoted while starting to stand up placing all his power on his back leg and pushing himself like a weightlifter doing a squat. With one leg he drove his foot up high and hard catching Wyatt on the chin and knocked him back to the ground. The moment his foot got back to the ground he saw the cowboy on his back and spread eagle with his arms and legs. He was stunned and vulnerable. He closed the ground between them in a flash and looked to leap on top of him but that was for not. He blasted himself into the air ready to drive his knee into the cowboy’s chest, but instead he was met with a hard kick to the groin as he descended on the cowboy. The timing was perfect pushing Falau to the side in a tumbling mess. He gasped for air reaching down and holding himself. Writhing in pain he felt a hand grab him by the hair and pull him to his feet.

  He reached up to defend himself but the groin strike drained much of the strength of his body. Wyatt punched hard breaking his nose in three places. A punch that was more than enough to knock him to the ground but Wyatt had not let go of his hair. He punched again and again disfiguring the nose and opening with cuts from the ring the cowboy had on.

  “I am gonna slaughter you like a hog.” spat Wyatt with murder in his eyes and blood flowing off him. “Tonight you die from my bare hands, you son of a bitch.”

  Falau had no response. His hands dangled by his side offering no defense. His mouth not able to form words. He had taken a terrific beating including a gunshot wound in the last two days but he had no more left. Another punch found the mark and consciousness was the only thing that Falau wanted to keep and then he fell to the ground.

  Grunting and groaning he could hear. Maybe Gabriela had stepped in. He had to get to his feet to help her. Anything to help her fend off their mad man. Pushing all he had he rolled over and pushed himself up to see Tim riding on the back of Wyatt. He held a cord in his hands and had it wrapped around Wyatt’s neck trying to strangle him

  “Get Duke and run!” screamed Tim looking at Falau.

  Falau’s eyes looked across the field and he could see Gabriela was catching Duke who had attempted to slip away. In a few more steps she would have him and she was close to where they had come out of the woods. Getting back to the car would not be an issue. But could he leave here without Tim, knowing that if Wyatt got free he would almost certainly kill Tim.

  “Go! Move your ass! Go!” shouted Tim “I can take care of this.”

  Falau followed the order that rolled from the mouth of the man who had far more experience than he had. He was the team lead but Tim was the senior member of the team. His experience gave him the right to make this call in the eyes of Falau besides Falau saw a hint of a smile on Tim’s face as he rode the big man latching on tight. He was back in his glory and in the fight again.

  Falau mad
e for the tree line and kept looking back even as he hit the woods. Tim was still on him.

  Gabriela remembered the way and Falau caught up as they got to the far side of the woods seeing the Mini on its side. Blasting past it they got to the Ford Tim had left in the breakdown lane on the M4 and despite some front end damage it was drivable. Duke was stuffed into the back.

  “I will drive. Looks like you could use the rest.” said Gabriela smiling at Falau “Your one hard core man, Falau.”

  Chapter 34

  Bull riding in professional rodeo is as extreme as the sport gets. Only the best can take on the task. Attempting to ride the back of an enraged animal as it kicks and spins is completely disorienting and requires the greatest of concentration and athleticism. The people who rise to the top keep themselves atop the mighty beasts for 8 seconds moving in rhythm with the bull and becoming one with the beast.

  That was all Tim could think of as his legs wrapped tight around Wyatt’s body and he pulled the cord around his neck as tight as he could. Wyatt shifted hard to the side attempting to throw the man from his back but only one of his shoes came loose and shot from his foot landing several feet away. The draw string was missing from the his jacket and was tightly in Tim’s hands as the cord that was trying to kill Wyatt Houston.

  The string cut in hard drawing blood almost immediately. Tim leaned back and pulled his biceps tight applying the highest amount of pressure he could. The string was wrapped around each of his hands several times and ripped at his skin.

  After being left behind at Piccadilly Circus he commandeered a car and followed the chase from afar. He caught the sight of them falling off the M4 and moved in as fast as he could from his position. Lacking the skills to track as well as Falau he took longer to find his way until finally he saw the fighting on the field and moved in using all his stealth ability he had.

  He sat wrapped around the big man just trying to get as much time for Falau and Gabriela to get away. Once Wyatt got loose or the string broke the bigger and stronger Wyatt would have his way with him. Tim was sure of that. Even when he was a young man the fight would be a tossup but now with all the years on him it would be a quick fight and one that would not see him survive. Tim refused to lie to himself about the eventual outcome of the fight he just wanted to do his part to make sure the mission was a success and if he died doing that it was fine with him. He was a soldier as a young man and now. The honorable and expected way to die was in combat and for his teammates.

  As the air started to deplete from Wyatt’s lungs he pushed an elbow back attempting to make contact but it was all for not.

  Reaching up the big man dug his fingers under the lace trying to allow the blood to flow up to his brain. The lace was looser than a wire and had give to it. Wyatt’s fingers worked the lace up and his fingers slipped in. At first just one but then a second. One by one he kept entering his fingers creating more space for the next finger. Eventually all ten were in and Wyatt had moved his hands into position allowing him to breath and have blood flow keeping him from passing out.

  Tim pulled as hard as he could. Sweat dropping from his forehead onto his nose and cheeks. The dirt that was ground into him from the sidewalk from just thirty minutes before still on his face and clothes. Looking down he saw that Wyatt’s hands had made full penetration of the string and when he got too tired Wyatt would start pushing eventually breaking the string or pulling it off.

  Tim leaned further back letting the string unwrap from his damaged hands. With just one wrap around each hand he pulled himself forward on Wyatt’s back getting close to his head and the lace went limp around Wyatt’s neck.

  By instinct the cowboy’s hands dropped pulling the lace from around his neck and threw it to the ground.

  Tim wrapped his right arm around the big man getting it firmly placed around the front of Wyatt’s neck. His left arm jumped forward and went up at a right angle at the elbow next to his head. Tims right hand slipped into the inside of his left arm’s elbow and his left hand grabbed for the back of Wyatt’s head. Applying pressure with his left hand he forced the big man’s head forward into the arm across his neck as that same arm pulled into his windpipe. Both arms working in opposite directions and giving the older man maximum torque.

  Tim knew he lacked the strength but he tried with all he had to snap the neck of the big cowboy whose hands now come up trying to break the grip of the older man.

  Pulling and grabbing, Wyatt searched for the answer to get free. Turning his head to the right he pushed down hard with his chin slipping it behind Tim’s arm. Grinding hard he pushed his head back forward and kept his chin down keeping the arm off his windpipe and letting him breathe freely. Now the older man was just hanging on and causing no real damage.

  Wyatt composed himself despite being in the thick of a fist fight. He calmed himself and fell back on his training now that the life and death situation had been taken care of. His left hand slid up the arm of Tim reaching the hand that sat atop the cowboy’s head. Wyatt’s long arms gave him room to spare and allowed him to turn his hand over and laid it flat on Tim’s hand. The cowboy’s fingers slid to the smallest of Tim’s fingers and started to pry it from the back of his head. The little finger lacked any strength and was pulled up with little effort. Wyatt yanked hard and back pulling the finger in the opposite direction of its natural movement. The finger snapped at the knuckle and dangled when released.

  A scream jumped from Tim’s mouth “Shit!”

  Wyatt’s hand moved up again and grabbed the ring finger and used the same movement again breaking that finger at the knuckle as well.

  Again screams of pain echoed through the air. Tim’s arms loosened with the pain and Wyatt took full advantage pushing his hand up and through the intertwined arms breaking their hold. The big man bucked to the side tossing the older man to the ground.

  Wyatt stood rubbing this neck and stretching it out.

  Tim rolled to a stop and got to his feet expecting a quick attack that did not come.

  “You’re a military man.” said Wyatt with a smile. “Me too. I was with Delta Force.”

  Tim returned the smile “Navy Seal here. Thank you for your service.”

  “Same to you. Amazing how many of us guys get mixed up in work like this.”

  “It’s all we know.”

  Wyatt paced to the side looking at Tim intently. He was examining his movements and trying to see what fighting style the older man would use. From his time with the military he knew that the SEALS were covert guys by nature and they liked carefully prepared missions. They liked knowing that the war was won before it was ever fought with preparation and planning. That made them extremely disciplined in their hand to hand combat skills but they did not all subscribe to one style so they could not be easily anticipated.

  Tim didn’t bother to even raise his hands. He turned his body to keep square. “How come you're not running after them?”

  “If I turn you're going to shoot me in the back. You must have a gun on you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “If I am looking at you when you pull it out I at least have a chance. Maybe you miss. Maybe I jump the right way. If I run you can just keep shooting until you hit me. I might not have Duke but your dead body could make up for that.”

  “Well we should get at it then. If you’re going to kill me give it your best shot. Just remember that old mules can still kick hard.”

  “I bet you can old man. I don’t doubt that. I can beat the life out of you but I respect you. It’s not lost on me that you're willing to die for your friends.”

  The word caught Tim off guard. “Friends”. Tim nodded his head slowly. Maybe Falau and Gabriela were his friends and not just teammates or comrades in arms. It was hard to tell but he was willing to give the ultimate sacrifice for them and feeling they were friends added another layer to why he was willing to do it.

  “If you don’t mind kiddo, how about I just kick your ass and I can get home and you can never
tell anyone about it for the rest of your life.”

  “You just love to make it happen don’t you.” said Wyatt taking two large steps closer to Tim closing the distance to five feet. “How about to make things fair I let you have the first punch.”

  Wyatt closed his eyes and stuck out his chin and pointed at it mocking the older man.

  Pivoting sideways Tim lifted his right leg up at the knee and kicked out as Wyatt’s eyes opened with a big smile across his face. Tim’s foot crashed down on the top of Wyatt’s knee cap causing the big man to buckle over in pain. Wyatt let out a hard grunt. “Ahhhh!”

  Tim leaned forward looking at the cowboy bent over “Hurts like a son of a bitch doesn’t it.”

  Wyatt’s face lifted to see Tim smiling. With his left hand pulled back he fired an uppercut into Wyatt’s chin knocking the big man back but not onto his back. Pain crossed through Tim’s arm and hand as the broken fingers hit the big man’s chin. The broken knuckles chipping off more bone and nerve endings being overloaded with pain.

  The pain jolted Tim’s follow up on the attack as he gripped his hand in pain. Wyatt recovered quicker and charged forward in his fighting stance. He led with a tight ball kick as Tim was bent three quarters over at the hip. The kick landed firmly into the older man’s ribs causing him to stumble back grabbing at his side.

  Wyatt landed cleanly and closed the distance by sliding his feet and not crossing them over. Planting his lead foot he twisted at the hips creating a roundhouse kick that snapped out with fury. Wyatt’s boot struck hard on Tim’s cheek causing the older man to spin half way around and fall to the ground. His arms and leg spread out wide and moving slightly trying to look for anything to help himself with.

  Wyatt’s feet landed softly and he was ready for another strike when he saw that Tim had not regained his feet. They cowboy let his hands drop and he broke his fighting stance. “Is that it? You don’t have more than that?”

 

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