Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Jean, Sonny, Jay and Al worked out on the machines. They had everything in there. We naturally couldn’t get through anything without a wrench getting thrown into the works. Carl Logan walked into the gym with his entourage of three minions. A groan went up from everyone. He wore his workout gear, so I assumed Carl wanted to work-out, but I knew for a fact he and Rudo stayed somewhere in Brooklyn. He walked over to me.

  “Hi, Carl. I figured you’d be working out with Rudo. Don’t you need to be staying here to work out in the hotel’s gym?”

  “The Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the world can work out where he pleases,” one of his minions told me.

  “Okay then, have a good workout.” I turned back to the heavy-bag, throwing punches and using knees and feet.

  “I came here to spar with you, Harding!”

  “Are you stupid,” Tommy asked him. “John has a fight next Sunday.”

  “We both have headgear,” Carl retorted. “It’s no different than him sparring with your assistant.”

  “I’m not the Heavyweight Boxing Champ,” Jess said. “John can’t take a chance getting hurt. I bet Rudo doesn’t know you’re here.”

  “Stay out of this! How about it, Harding?”

  “Wow… you really want to hit me, huh?”

  “Don’t do it, John!”

  One of Logan’s minions reached for Tommy and had Lynn’s knife tickling his Adam’s Apple. “You stay out of this, Betty!”

  The other two started to reach. A Colt barrel was up against each of their heads, held by Clint and Nick. “If you guys don’t grab your suit lapels and hang on for dear life, we’ll make an adjustment ending with the four of you dumped in a landfill somewhere in Pennsylvania,” Nick whispered. “Nod, and do what I say, right now.”

  Heads nodded, except for the guy who was beginning to bleed a little. He grabbed his lapels though. Lynn wiped her blade on his suit and stepped away, making her knife disappear. “I guess you boys think we come unarmed to the gym like dandelions waiting to get plucked. What’ll it be, Cheese? I insist if you do this, Tommy gets some money on the outcome. I got ten thousand dollars says Betty Logan has to quit. We’ll even do three-minute rounds.”

  “I’ll play. Headgear and real boxing gloves,” I said.

  “This ain’t smart, DL,” Jess said.

  “I know, Jess. Sometimes, we do what ain’t smart.”

  Tommy recognized the look. “It’s on. Ten thousand to you, Logan – accept or decline?”

  “Accepted, cheapskate.”

  Tommy didn’t like that a bit. He jabbed a finger into Logan’s chest, daring him to do something as once again the clickety-clack of Lynn’s butterfly knife made itself known in the silence. “I got a hundred grand says you quit first, poser!”

  “You’re on, you broken down street hustler!”

  Tommy backed away. “Just remember, pug, when I come to collect, you better have the money or a hiding place on the other side of the earth.”

  Logan smiled like a rat with cheese in his paws. We didn’t tape our hands or anything else. Jess helped Logan on with his gloves and Tommy put mine on. I trained with the heavy gloves because I didn’t want to hurt either Dev or Jess. We trained with headgear and the big gloves for another reason - to feel light as a feather when in the cage. The gloves were the same as official professional ring gloves. Jess taped the wrist section, so we didn’t have any looseness or flapping anything.

  By then, word had gotten out. We attracted a milling crowd who couldn’t even see what was going on, until management, noticing a profitable event, streamed it to every screen in the place. Tommy set his watch. Everyone backed away from the mat.

  Tommy signaled us together. “Three-minute rounds, boxing only, and this isn’t a death match. Both of you know the rules, so I won’t waste time repeating them. When I say break… I mean break.”

  Tommy backed away. “Get it on!”

  Logan shot jabs out to pepper my head with solid blows. I picked enough off, I could tell Carl didn’t like the fact I was even faster than when we fought before. I whipped a left hook into his ribcage that stunned him. Carl also didn’t realize my power had increased since our last meeting thanks to my time in the water with Hook. The speed I handled his attack with, fending and counterpunching, frustrated the hell out of him. Tommy called time. We backed away from each other with care.

  Jess rinsed my mouthpiece. “Damn, DL, you shocked the shit out of him.”

  I looked into brother Jess’s eyes. “I may bust this prick’s ribcage, Jess. I’m sick of Carl Logan.”

  Jess popped my mouthpiece back into place with a big smile. “I got no problem with that. Prick been askin’ for it every time he sees you.”

  “You have to admit; this session can’t get any more challenging. Sparring sessions with the Heavyweight Champ, sharpens my concentration.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Time,” Tommy said.

  This time I fired my left jab and I landed. They jolted his head back like a punching bag. Even the jabs he got a glove in front of in time, forced his own glove to strike him. His counterpunches landed; but with diminished power, because Carl launched them off balance. I smashed a combination right to his head, a left hook to his ribcage, and another right to the head that knocked the champ on his ass. I backed away as the onlookers gasped and muttered in surprise. Carl pounded the mat and stood. We traded blows again. I slammed his arms with punishing force.

  “Time.” The crowd applauded.

  “I have to say, brother, you’re surprising the hell out of us.”

  “I suspected I had the speed. No matter what, I’m getting my work in today.”

  “No doubt.” Jess stuck in my mouthpiece. “T is happy as hell with you. Don’t let your guard down for a moment. Logan got lights out power… but you already know that.”

  “Yep.”

  Tommy started us. Carl tried going to the body and did it well. With any kind of punch, a boxer must be careful about the speed in which he returns to defense. Carl threw a real hurtful left hook to my ribs. My right cross counter blow dropped him again. This time, Logan went to a knee and Tommy started a count with the crowd really getting into it. Logan regained his feet. I concentrated on my defense and jabbed rapid fire, recovering each punch in time to block Carl’s counters. The round ended with some great work done.

  I heard Lucas approve of the round. “Recon!”

  “You could be boxing’s heavyweight champ.” Jess dipped my mouthpiece and covered my face with a cold wet towel for a moment.

  “I don’t want that crown, brother. I’ve already had to nearly trip myself not to kick his legs into next week.”

  Jess appreciated that remark; but Logan didn’t like Jess showing any humor at his expense. He cussed us out and stomped around.

  “I’ll be right there, Carl.”

  “Time.”

  Carl nearly flew at me. I met him with a perfectly timed left jab and dropped him once more. He scrambled to his feet and we went at it hard and heavy. Logan stayed in a groove, covering well and keeping his punches tight. I settled into ramming his arms with short piledriving blows, while keeping my own defense tight. I noticed his arms dropping slightly. I popped him right between the eyes hard enough to stagger him.

  “Time.”

  “Good round, DL, he won’t be running at you anymore. Man… I wish Dev was here to see this.”

  “I spotted Lynn recording it. Dev will get to see the fight. I’ll get some clean work in this round. When Rudo sees this, and you know he will, I’ll be into all out war on the mat. He won’t want to mix it up with me trading blows.”

  Jess chuckled. “I can picture Rudo seeing this and goin’ uh oh.”

  “Time.”

  Carl was all business. You don’t get to be boxing’s World Heavyweight Champion by being a quitter. The only way I would be able to win Tommy some money was to wear Logan down in the arms. I concentrated on defense this round, popping in left
jabs when I could, and smashing arms. Tommy looked pleased with the round because Logan grunted now with every blow he blocked with his arms. We ended with a toe to toe exchange that made the crowd howl in appreciation. Tommy had to stop us by shouting near our ears. Carl and I backed away from each other with the utmost caution.

  “Outstanding jab, DL.” Jess covered my face with the blessedly cool wet towel for a moment. “This match reminds me of watching a video of that Ohio heavyweight, Ernie Shavers, when he pounded the crap out of Ali’s arms and nearly won the title. Ernie knocked out twenty-three opponents in the first round. I thought he beat Ali.”

  “I saw that video before too. I think you’re right.”

  Tommy signaled for us to get it on.

  Oh man… did we ever. Frustrated and in excellent shape, Logan stood with me toe to toe from start of the round to the end, trading bombs. We fired the crowd into a frenzy, cheering, shouting and whistling all the way to the end when Tommy needed to jump in between us, shouting. Again, we backed away from each other in deliberate fashion.

  Jess got emotional. “Good Lord, DL, people would have paid a hundred bucks apiece to see this fight. Our friends are all speechless, even Lynn. They’re cheering like kids at a baseball game.”

  “Never happening. I already want to kick him so bad my teeth ache.”

  Jess toweled me off. “I hear you. I don’t think Logan planned on a workout like this one. I think this fight calls for a shower and a trip to the nearest bar.”

  “Amen to that.”

  Tommy clapped his hands. “Get it on.”

  Back at it again, Carl convinced me he planned to wear me down by trading blows without let up. His plan did limit my arm smashes, but my defense annoyed the hell out of him. Admittedly, many of those blows I blocked would have knocked me down. I could feel the power in them. Carl clipped the side of my head with a good one, dazing me. He overreacted though, trying to finish the match with a knockout. I dropped him again with a left hook counterpunch that would have ended any other fighter. Carl needed a nine count before rising. It gave me a chance to shake the cobwebs too. I forced the action to the end of the round, staggering Carl again. The crowd noise was deafening.

  “Carl has never ever been knocked down in a boxing ring,” Jess said. “I’m glad you both have headgear on. Those hands you’re throwing at each other are killer blows.”

  “I know I’m glad I have headgear on. I think Carl believes he would have knocked me out last round without headgear. I have something in my arsenal for him this round he hasn’t seen yet.”

  Tommy clapped. Carl and I met in the middle again, each throwing left jabs in flurries, trying to pave the way for right hand blasts. I popped Logan good, high on the head and saw my chance. I shot a righthand uppercut through his arms with such force it lifted him off the mat. His arms dropped lifelessly as he collapsed, Logan’s mouthpiece landing a split second after he did. Carl pawed around weakly and lost consciousness. The Monsters, Unholies and kids mobbed me while the crowd noise made it seem like the building shuddered. Tommy looked after Logan, getting his bodyguards to help him get Carl seated and steady on a nearby weight bench. Tommy patted Logan’s face with a wet towel until the fighter groggily could sit on his own. Tommy draped the wet towel over Carl’s head and left him in the care of his minions. Tommy joined our celebration.

  “If you had MMA gloves on, you would have broken his jaw with that uppercut,” Tommy said. “That was the finest match I believe I’ve ever seen. I doubt any in the crowd here would disagree. Carl proved he can take it. He kept getting up and coming on even stronger. Maybe he’ll leave well enough alone now.”

  “You were great, Dad!”

  “Thanks, kid. I believe it’s time for a shower and an ice cold beer. We’ll go to the Nougatine so you kids can get something to eat too.”

  “That fight was so good, I think I’ll let him keep the money,” Lynn said. “If he pays up, I’ll donate it to charity.”

  “Same here,” Tommy agreed. “His handlers already helped Carl get out of the gym.”

  “It looks like you’ll need to have a press conference to get out of here, DL.” Nick pointed at the cameras and reporters at the gym entrance.

  “Want us to hustle you out, Recon?” Lucas asked.

  “We can do it easy,” Casey added.

  “No. I’ll give the interview. I have a UFC fight on tap. The UFC will love this. I can’t think of any downside to a press conference after an exhibition like Carl and I put on.”

  Gus moved in close. “If anyone mentions Islamberg, look confused and say ‘Who?’.”

  I grinned. “Thanks, Gus.”

  “I’ll hang back, Dad,” Al told me. “If the press conference gets rough, I’ll run over and tug on you, asking for food.”

  “That’ll work. Thanks, Al.” I walked out to what I assumed were sports media. “Hi.”

  “Will you be meeting with Carl Logan in the ring for boxing’s heavyweight championship?” A guy with an ESPN microphone asked. “You completely dominated him.”

  “No. I will not pursue the boxing crown. On top of that, Carl and I were sparring with headgear. As my cornerman reminded me many times: Logan has lights out power.”

  “Yes, but you put his lights out,” another reporter mentioned. “I watched the whole thing on my way here. That was no lucky punch. You lifted Logan off the mat with that uppercut.”

  “We had a great workout. He wanted to spar with me; and it turned into a war. I don’t want his crown. Maybe this will convince him of that fact. I have a sanctioned UFC championship bout with Rudo Madaki this coming Sunday. Today was a great tune-up for the UFC match.”

  “You just knocked out the boxing heavyweight champion,” a third reporter pointed out sarcastically. “If Madaki stands in the middle of the cage with you, I doubt he would last a round.”

  “We’re allowed to use all our tools in the cage. Madaki has excellent mat skills where one mistake can cost a fighter the match. He’s undefeated.”

  “You’re also an FBI agent, Harding. Did you hear about Islamberg?”

  “Who?”

  The reporter chuckled. “I guess that answers that question. I’ve heard you’re doing book signings with Nick McCarty, the writer who created a popular assassin series.”

  “Yes. Nick and I have a blast doing the signings. The signings may be a little on the dry side. The more entertainment, the better, and we have a great time doing them.”

  “After Madaki, do you have anyone else to fight in the future?”

  “I don’t know. Have any of you heard of someone else in the heavyweight division ranked and in line for a title shot?”

  “Have you heard of Bruno Dornan? He’s huge. I believe he’s undefeated. Bruno has a catchy ring title. They call him The Cannibal because he’s a man eater. Bruno was born in Borneo.”

  “He’s not literally a cannibal, right?” I glanced back at Tommy and Jess. They shrugged and shook their heads. “I see my trainers have never heard of Bruno either. I need to beat Rudo first. I’m not looking past a guy with his skills.”

  Al ran up and yanked on my arm. “I’m starving, Dad. Let’s go.”

  Good timing, kid. “This is my daughter Alice. I promised her food, so I need to go. If you think of anything else, the weigh-in will be on Saturday at Barclays Center. We will be having a press conference right after.”

  “Thanks, Champ, that was the best non-title bout I ever saw,” the first reporter said.

  “Thank you.” I continued with Al. The other kids caught up to us with Monsters and Unholies on our six.

  * * *

  Our ladies arrived after hearing the buzz all over town about the fight between Carl and me. They were hungry, we were hungry… and thirsty… so it was off to the Nougatine for drinks and food. Nick and Joan surprised the hell out of us. She brought her violin and played Danny Boy with Nick singing. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house; and they were forced upon threat of violence to perform th
ree choruses.

  Nick explained at the bar, nursing the brothers Bud and Beam. “We auditioned to do it at the UFC fight before the Star Spangled Banner. They loved it, so Joan and I decided to preview it here.”

  “Good Lord, Muerto… you and Joan are incredible.” Lynn was choked up for sure. “With Joan… you don’t even need a piano. Uh oh… here comes management.”

  “I’m Enos White. Please play anything you like, anytime you like. That was beautiful.”

  We all shook hands and introduced ourselves. I could tell he had seen the fight too. “That impromptu fight was amazing, John. The entire hotel is buzzing about it. You and Logan have issues… I take it.”

  “Yep. He hated that I would not fight him in a boxing ring. My kicking the crap out of him twice in the cage under UFC rules did not sit well with him. Today, I agreed to spar with him. It did not end well for Carl. I think it might have gotten him off my back though.”

  “He would be nuts to fight you anywhere, Champ,” Enos said. “That last uppercut nearly severed his head.”

  We all appreciated the manager’s stark statement.

  “Joan and I will do a couple more, Enos… but only after refreshments,” Nick told him. “Do you have a favorite you’d like to hear.”

  Enos brightened. “Do you know Lady in Red… by Foreigner?”

  “Oh yeah! We know it… don’t we, Joan.”

  “We do indeed, round-eye. It will be our pleasure to do it.”

  “Thank you.” Enos left to take up his duties once again.

  Our group at the bar toasted good fortune and happy events. We dealt with the Illuminati and Sharia Law Mutants. Sometimes… we just get a moment’s respite from the war. We imbibed with quiet jokes and laughter about what had passed, allowing our kindred spirits to order and eat within sight. Nick and Joan finished. I could tell those two loved performing. It was in their blood. They did Lady in Red so well, I thought the bar dissipated into a misty background, embracing the audience. A hushed reverence kept the entire restaurant silent during the performance.