by Dameon Gibbs
Edge looked over his shoulder and saw his assailant, blade in hand. He borrowed a knife from the tactical vest of the recently dead soldier. “You’re not gonna mind, right?”
Edge rubbed his jaw as he approached his disturbingly calm opponent. He took a second to examine the man’s face. “Your eyes speak. And they say you’re dead inside,” Edge stood ready as he sized up his opponent.
Hitoshi was wearing his military garb, which was comparably lighter than the rest of the men. For he knew his abilities did not depend on his strength but it his speed.
As if on cue, one of the supports to the building gave way under the weight. The floor shook and dropped at the far side overlooking the water, breaking in the middle. Edge stumbled to keep his balance; his opponent, however, was much more nimble and jumped at Edge using the momentum. Shit, he is fast! Edge realized as Hitoshi attacked with a side kick. Edge went with the momentum and barely dodged the kick. He shuffled backward to regain his balance, with little time to breathe Hitoshi pressured with a flurry of swings.
The man was fast and agile, more so than Edge had ever seen. They exchanged attacks with most missing, some providing the high-pitched twang of metal connecting with metal. Hitoshi came low and had barely completed his arc when Edge saw the blade spin in the attacker’s hand and change direction for his face.
Edge sprang back and immediately returned with a spinning side kick that caught Hitoshi dead center and sent him stumbling back. Edge frowned as his opponent shook his arm as his if he was brushing off dust. Though his kick had hit dead center, Hitoshi had reacted fast enough to get his arms up and deflect some of the blow. This guy is not going to go down easy; Edge cracked a smile. Edge knew that this guy was going to test his abilities, and he was up for the challenge.
Hitoshi lashed out again. Slash after slash met with parries and counters by both fighters. Edge achieved momentary satisfaction as his blade bit into Hitoshi’s arm on a swing. Nothing fatal, but the arm stopped just long enough for Edge to follow up with a hand strike sending the blade out of Hitoshi’s hand and across the floor into the shadows.
Not one to be showed up, Hitoshi immediately spun and swept Edge’s legs out from under him. Edge hit the ground hard, trying to bounce up he was met with a quick snapping kick to the face. The flat of the foot hit with a high powered slap, sending Edge’s upper body bouncing off the floor, his knife skidding out of his hand somewhere. The blow slightly scrambled both mind and vision, but he was able to comprehend the silhouette of a man and his fist, a fist that was soon rapidly moving towards his face.
He parried the hand at the last minute and heard it slam into the wood. Instead of a grunting of pain, Hitoshi seemed to have grunted in anger. Edge grabbed the arm and pulled it in while he wrapped his knee and legs around his opponent’s waist and head in a Juji Gatame, one of the most basic moves in ground fighting. All Edge had to do was drive with his hips and bring his legs down, and Hitoshi’s arm would snap in the most painful of ways.
Before Edge could clinch his legs tight, he felt his attacker shift and grab his belt from behind. Fuck, no arm break today. His knees were slammed on the ground next to his head, and then he felt his body roll backward. Momentum enabled Edge to roll up to a kneeling position facing Hitoshi, who was ready to tackle.
Edge took advantage of the one second he had and drove the heels of his palms into Hitoshi’s gut, which was met by a slight gasp for air as the strike hit home. One strike opened the door for Edge to follow up with his second attack, an elbow strike to the chin and a strike across the face. As Hitoshi’s head snapped sideways. Edge dropped into a sliding position and gave a snap kick of his own to the face, making solid contact. Unlike his opponent’s kick, which was a barefoot in a slipper, Edge’s kick was amped up by his steel-toed shoes, significantly increasing the bell-ringing effect. The impact sent them both to the floor.
Edge did another rearward roll, popped up ready to go, and was greeted by Hitoshi already rising from his barrage of blows, blood pouring from the open gash on his forehead where the kick had landed. His eyes showed the look of a man gone to a zone well beyond the realm of rational. Ahh…crap.
Hitoshi let out a vicious kiai that sounded like the yell of a demon and jumped with a series of kicks that caused Edge to side step and backpedal as fast as he could, with strikes continuing to follow him.
The two engaged in a series of strikes and blocks that lasted only a few second as Hitoshi spun outside one of Edge’s cross punches and back fisted him across the face. Before Edge could react to the blow, Hitoshi grabbed his extended arm and round kicked him in the stomach, then hopped off his other leg and caught Edge’s face on its downward arc sending him sprawling backward.
Edge started rolling away in an attempt to get himself mentally back in the fight. He’d never encountered kicks that quick before, nor felt them. Standing up, he expected an immediate attack. Instead, he found his enemy pacing, savoring the punishment he was dishing out. Hitoshi was clearly communicating that he was the better fighter, and now Edge had to show him otherwise. “You’re boring me,” the Delta said as he launched himself at the nimble assassin.
Though he was not as agile as Hitoshi, when Edge needed to, he could be as fast as anybody else. As Hitoshi ran to meet his attacker he came to a sudden halt as Edge started the round with a jumping spin kick. This impressive move was immediately followed up with a series of chops and punches that made it difficult for Hitoshi to gain the upper hand. When he thought he could counter Edge, a quick kick would catch him in the shin or knee causing him to stumble into a strike.
Finally, Hitoshi rolled with one of the snap kicks and came up next to Edge, who was ready for the move and landed a side kick that hit his opponent in the chest. This time, Hitoshi had no arms in place to deflect the blow and the air expelled from his lungs while being thrust backward. Edge capitalized on the moment and charged at Hitoshi, slamming him into one of the support columns where the floor had snapped.
Hitoshi experienced pain at a level he had never known as his back collided with the wooden column and his face took a roundhouse elbow strike that drove his head into the column. The blow followed by a knee strike that had enough power to make Hitoshi feel like his manhood had relocated to his sinuses. Not willing to give his enemy a moment to counter, Edge grabbed his wounded prey and spun him around into a judo throw.
The force of Edge’s throw was too much for the weakened support beams to handle, and as Hitoshi’s body hit the floor, the entire second floor collapsed to the first. Edge cursed as he fell head over heals into the dark cloud of debris below.
۞۞۞۞
Tucker peered around the doorway, the wooden dock extended along the pier with a short branch to the left towards the boat he assumed was to be Winford’s escape. Like the inside, it was littered with stacks of old crates and shipping equipment. It provided Tucker plenty of cover which did the same for his targets.
He located Winford next to a stack of boxes and watched his junkyard dog Keeast stand over two downed men. Someone out of his sight fired and, after a few rounds, the water shot up like a geyser. Tucker had to chuckle as Keeast became drenched with water. Keeast spoke a few words to Winford, who took off as fast as a man in his condition could. You think you’re getting away, but that’s not happening today. He aimed down the sight and fired off one round in their direction.
“Winford! You’re not leaving!” Tucker yelled. Winford and Keeast both stopped in their tracks. Keeast looked at Tucker the same way a man looks at an annoying house fly that won’t go away while Winford shook his head with an expression of pity for his former analyst.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tucker saw a man appear and start firing at his position. Tucker dropped and hugged the ground like paint. Edge had pumped up his confidence, his weapon had made him feel prepared, and his righteous anger at Winford had made him feel purposeful like he could pull this off. However, there is nothing like being on the receiving end of an assault
rifle to slap home the reality of armed combat. Tucker’s cover quickly disintegrated, and he had no choice but to run for the next pile for cover and hoped this guy had to reload. Tucker got up faster than he ever had and sprinted for his new cover, firing his weapon as he went hoping to at least scare his opponent.
Unfortunately, Tucker was not that much of a marksman, and his bullets hit everything but his target. He was about halfway there when a second soldier stepped out into the open and unleashed his weapon. Tucker launched himself out of the line of fire. He was so impressed with his jump that he did not see the side of the building until he smashed into it. “How the hell does Edge do this all day?”
He could see Winford ten feet from the boat. No, I will not let you get away. With renewed focus, Tucker peered around and saw the man was not there. He quickly changed out magazines. He’s probably reloading. Or waiting. Aw hell, time to find out.
Tucker stood and maneuvered towards the crates the man previously used for cover. One of the soldiers had ignored him as they retreat towards the boat. Please the let other guy do the same thing. With his back towards cover, he found himself breathing heavy. I am so hitting the gym when this is over. He took a few deep breaths and spun from the corner.
Winford was now within feet of the boat, Keeast helping him along. The two armed guards had just started their retreat. They were no more than a few feet from where he last saw them. Tucker knew if he took out the two men, he could reach Winford. Keeast, on the other hand, would put up a fight, or more than likely rip out his heart while it was still beating, but he figure he would worry about that after he took out the two goons
Before Tucker knew it, everything turned into shades of red and yellow as the rear of the boat transformed into a giant fireball. Chunks of the engine were catapulted like rockets into the air. The two soldiers stopped in their tracks upon seeing the boat go up in flames, and their leaders Keeast, and Winford knocked down, to the deck. In amazement, Tucker stood behind them, Holy shit! That was different!
۞۞۞۞
Edge rose out of the debris and water gasping for air and cursing as he checked for broken bones. None, as far as he could tell, but that sting from the belly flop in the water did its best to remind him he was alive. All right, get up, find the body of ‘Crazy foot’ and call it quits.
Edge was not going to make any assumptions that the fall had killed his opponent. As he searched around, he saw that the floor above had broken raggedly, creating piles of wood and debris. Part of it was still attached to what support columns had not given way yet. Much of the ground floor was under water though there were areas that remained a foot above the water line. Not locating his enemy’s body after a few minutes, he realized his search for a dead body was changing to hunting for an assassin. He’s watching me, but from where?
Wires from the second floor started sparking and cast a brief shadow of someone moving behind him. He quickly scanned the rubble and found a piece of wood that would make a serviceable club. Edge grabbed it and swung an overhead slash as he spun around. And if he had reacted a second sooner he would have hit his target.
Hitoshi acknowledged the pain he felt. It was the same intensity of pain he had dealt to others, instead of stopping him it only amplified the coldness and calculation of his already dark mind. He was going to kill this “Edge”, slowly and painful were his thought. It had taken him a few minutes to block out the pain in both his head and back, the thought of returning the favor alone gave him renewed interest.
He moved silently around the floor, using the piles as cover, placing himself in a good angle of attack upon Edge. He took off like a panther for the kill, leaping at Edge from behind. From the shadows, he watched the Delta grab for something, most likely a weapon. That was okay. Hitoshi merely front flipped forward when he landed, and Edge’s strike hit nothing but air.
Edge watched as his stalker flipped out of the way of the strike and moved right into a spin kick to the face that spun Edge to the ground. It was not a solid landed kick, but it managed to disorient him. Edge got right up, making sure to keep his club moving to block any attack. Hitoshi had a club of his own, it was bit shorter than Edge’s, but with men like them, size did not matter; it was the skill.
The battle continued as Hitoshi attacked with his club. The sound of their wooden clubs clacking together echoed throughout the building. With each attack that came flying his way, Edge parried and side-stepped to deliver his attacks. And like before, the men were evenly matched, and their injuries did little to impede their fighting ability. What concerned Edge the most, was that before he and Hitoshi attempted to kill each other, Hitoshi was seething with rage; now he appeared calmer, a sociopathic look filled his eyes. He has no plan, Edge thought.
Realizing the change in his opponent, Edge felt the sting of Hitoshi’s blade across his chest and then his outer thigh. He retreated and looked at the clean four-inch slash across his chest and leg. A quick look at his opponents hand revealed the blood stain blade that Hitoshi kept hidden until the right moment.
“Well, I see you found your toy."
For the first time, his enemy spoke: “You’re dead.”
Edge smirked and waited for the attack. It came, and he reached for another piece of wood. It was not as good as his club, but it would provide him some additional distance from the blade. The assassin came in like a crazed whirlwind, swinging his stick and following it with a circular slash of the knife. Edge dodged the knife attacks and blocked the club as they came at him; his second piece of wood was doing its job. Blow after blow and slash after slash, no matter how hard, Hitoshi tried, he could no longer set up Edge with the perfect attack.
The rage was intensifying in Hitoshi’s eyes as his prey kept eluding him. Finally, enraged Hitoshi became determined to draw more blood. Running up one of the piles, Hitoshi pushed off in Edge’s direction.
Stabbing with the knife, he came at Edge like a sharp torpedo. It was a good move, Edge had to admit, and then cursed himself for not dodging as it missed his neck and bit into his triceps. Edge spun with the blow and taking his club; that had a nice jagged edge he delivered a strong blow to the back of Hitoshi’s thigh.
They quickly separated and checked their wounds. Glancing, Edge could tell his was a clean cut; the wound limited his arm motion, but he could work with that. He watched the assassin limp as he yanked splinters out of his muscle. And for the first time, he witnesses the assassin wince in pain.
Being the first to attack, Hitoshi made his move only to stumble due to the pain in his leg. Edge capitalized and came in with a series of club attacks that proved difficult for his opponent to parry. In desperation, his opponent lunged forward with a knife attack only to have it deflected and countered with a blow to the gut, then one to face with the butt end of the club. Blood trickled from Hitoshi’s nose.
Edge had been in a good number life and death fights, many of them just one-on-one. He knew when to retreat and when to finish it. Now I must finish it.
Edge slowly walked towards Hitoshi, who, as he watched, felt an unfamiliar sensation rise in him: fear. Not the fear of dying, the fear of failure. No! He would not fail! He would defeat this maggot and torture him until he begged for a quick death.
Outrage, Hitoshi screamed and went on a rampage attack. Edge blocked the assassin’s swings with ease and pressed his opponent back with every counter. Hitoshi would swing two or three times and each time Edge would block and riposte to his chest with a punch or to his shoulder with the club. Edge was picking him apart, repeatedly hitting vital areas with strikes that were not individually devastating but would eventually cripple his defenses.
Spinning on his good leg Hitoshi swung high with the stick, and attacked low with the knife, trying to jab in. At this moment Edge’s instincts took over, he brought the club down squarely on the kneecap of his opponent’s leading leg. Both the kneecap and the club shattered on impact. Edge followed with a palm strike to the head, sending Hitoshi spinning to the groun
d.
Hitoshi’s samurai heritage showed through: he would attack until life left him. He slowly rose to his feet, his knife the only thing in his hand. He supported himself with a piece of the second floor that had wedged itself against the wall. Edge stood waiting. Hitoshi spotted a broken piece of glass within reach. In a single motion, he snatched it from the floor and flung it directly at Edge, following instantly with a charging knife attack. He would kill this gaijin pretender, and the pain he suffered as he moved would simply dissolve when his enemy’s warm blood poured over his skin.
Hitoshi’s moves have become transparent to Edge. Injuries and the accumulated effect of Edge’s strikes slowed Hitoshi enough to tip the balance in his favor. He could not stop each of Hitoshi's attacks, but it was easier to see them coming. Edge leaned slightly and allowed the glass to spin harmlessly by his head. He parried the knife hand away and secured it while his other arm struck Hitoshi’s elbow, breaking it. With the knife falling from his hand, the assassin growled in pain.
In one smooth motion, Edge caught the knife in mid-air and struck Hitoshi in the chest slamming the injured assassin against the wedged flooring. Hitoshi bounced off and start to fall forward. As he reached out with his one good arm to hold himself up, something struck him under the chin, and his world ceased to be.
Edge held his opponent’s chin upon the pommel of the knife as the blade sank deeper into the assassin’s brain. Tilting the blade forward he sliced it backward in a circular motion down the throat. Hitoshi’s body fell like a rock to the ground. Edge flicked his wrist to flinging the blood from the blade.
“That was for Trident.”
With one last look at his defeated foe, he climbed the hanging pier and made his way to help his partners.
۞۞۞۞
Before Quake had laid his first ambush on Winford’s escort detail, he placed two left over charges on the stern of the boat, just encase the bastard had managed to get on board. However, when he surfaced after evading the guards hunting him down, he heard Tucker’s voice followed by long bursts of gunfire.