Saviours

by Beth Abbott

  Everyone nodded.

  “I’ll take some gloves.” Abram held out his hand and Micky stepped forward, opening the sports bag she was carrying.

  “Take your pick.” She said loudly.

  As Abram leaned forward to see what was in the bag, Micky leaned closer.

  “The guy you’re fighting likes to sweep your feet out with his left leg.” She murmured. “He’s fast and he follows it up with a right-handed punch downwards. But he also cracked a few ribs on his left side the last time he was here. They’re probably partially healed, but it wouldn’t take much to cause more damage.”

  “Thanks, Micky.” Abram picked out some gloves and stepped back.

  She turned to Kellen with an apologetic shrug.

  “I’ve never seen your opponent fight before. Sorry.” She smiled at him. “The only thing I can tell you is that he was wearing glasses when he arrived on the ship, and he’s not now.”

  “So, all I can hope for is that he can’t see my fists coming.” Kellen grinned, and picked out a pair of plain black gloves. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you can dim the lights when I’m fighting. Maybe he won’t see me at all.”

  “It’s a good job you’ll be wearing a black gum-shield.” Micky pointed out. “They can probably see that pearly white shit-eating grin from the international space station.”

  Abram was still chuckling when Micky turned and walked towards the other team.

  “She obviously likes your smile.” Kris teased Kellen as he pulled his gloves on.

  “She’ll like more than my smile by the time I’m finished impressing her.” Kellen smirked.

  “Yeah, well try not to get too banged up.” Zach snorted. “A few battle scars are great to impress the ladies after the event, but don’t forget you’ll have to fight on Sunday as well. It’ll hurt like a bitch if you get a pounding today.”

  Kellen shook his head sadly.

  “Have you no faith in me?” He shrugged, his shoulders drooping as though he was hurt.

  “I have plenty of faith in you.” Zach smiled. “I just don’t want you to hang around in the ring for too long trying to impress your lady friend.”

  Abram tightened the straps on the gloves and moved to the punch bag.

  He threw a few punches and landed a few kicks for good measure.

  “Save your best moves for the ring.” Drago grinned at him. “Do some stretches to get your muscles warmed up.”

  Abram started going through his usual warm-up routine, regardless that he’d already gone through it once back in the cabin. He might be big, but he was also agile, and to get the most out of his body he needed to have stretched it out and warmed up his muscles.

  He picked up a rope and started to skip, wanting to get his heart rate up before he climbed into the ring.

  “Do you need a motivating pep-talk before you go into fight?” Zach stood in front of him, watching Abram carefully.

  “Watcha got?” Abram shrugged.

  Zach pointed over Abram’s shoulder to where the door to the back rooms stood open.

  “If you lose your fight, there are a bunch of young girls in there, some of them still teenage virgins, who are gonna get raped and beaten tonight by the asshole you’re about to fight.” He pointed out. “The only chance they have of that not happening is for you to win.”

  Abram heard the growl rise from his belly, but when it erupted from his mouth it was entirely unintentional.

  “Yeah, I think that was peppy enough.” Kris nodded approvingly.

  “Gentlemen?” Micky’s voice interrupted them. “Make your way to the ring.”

  Abram climbed into the ring at the opposite end to his opponent, while his teammates crowded by the corner. Drago took his seat again, the redhead sitting at his feet.

  “Fighters...?” Sergei Lebedev stepped forward. “Each fight will be six rounds of five-minutes each round. The fight will be stopped only if one fighter taps out or is rendered unconscious. At the end of the six rounds, if the fight isn’t over, the winner will be decided between myself and the two non-participating team captains. Is that clear?”

  Abram nodded, and his opponent did the same.

  “As a special concession to the ladies present, there will be no eye gouging, no biting, and no deliberate attacks on the genitals.” Lebedev bowed to Micky as though the concession had been wholly to please her.

  Most of the men in the room guffawed, but Abram breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to leave the ring blind, needing a rabies shot or sterile!

  He was surprised when a third man stepped into the ring, and he realised they would have a referee. Ok, so maybe it was going to be a little more civilised than he’d anticipated.

  When the two fighters were called to the middle of the ring, Abram got his first proper look at his opponent.

  He was an inch or two shorter than Abram, so not enough to make a significant difference, but looked to be maybe ten to fifteen kilos lighter.

  As Abram watched, the Polish fighter gave him a good inspection, and Abram guessed he would have concluded that the extra weight would translate to the Russian being somewhat slower.

  “We’ll see about that.” Abs thought, trying to keep the grin off his face.

  When someone rang a bell, the referee stepped back, and his opponent was immediately up in his face, throwing jabs and kicking out his feet.

  It only took twenty seconds for Abs to realise that Micky was spot-on with her assessment, and that while the guy wasn’t holding back with the jabs, he was keeping his elbow well tucked in to protect his damaged ribs.

  He threw a few quick jabs of his own, pushing the guy back and following through with a forearm to the cheekbone.

  It didn’t take the guy long to start throwing out the leg to trip Abram up, and by the end of the first minute, they were nose-to nose, grappling and punching wherever they could reach.

  Abram was less keen to take it to the mat, as he didn’t want to end up wrestling the guy on the floor, so he used his speed to stop himself being pulled into a hold, and whenever the Pole tried to get an arm around his neck and turn him, Abram placed a well-aimed elbow into his sore ribs.

  He could hear the cheers and yells coming from the audience and tried to drown them out. He was trying to keep his whole focus on the idiot trying to knock his head off, and that was proving trickier than he’d imagined.

  As the round progressed, Abram started to get a good feel for the rhythm his opponent was setting. Three or four head shots followed by a couple of swipes with his foot, then back to the head shots before he’d throw a couple of fierce body shots.

  Abram kept his arm up, blocking as many shots as possible, throwing out as many punches as he took, always varying the direction.

  By the time the bell sounded for the end of the first round, he’d taken a couple of punches to the jaw, and his thighs had taken a few heavy kicks, but overall, he was in good shape.

  His opponent was puffy around the left eye from a lucky shot, and Abs had no doubt that the guys ribs were sore, but as he hadn’t even remotely let loose on him yet, he had no doubt the Pole thought the fight eminently winnable.

  “What are you doing, Abs?” Zach whispered as Abram made his way back to the corner. “If we were scoring this, he’d be ahead on points. He’s throwing more punches and getting more kicks in.”

  With his back to the ring Abs smiled, slipping his mouthguard out as Kris gave him a swig of water.

  He rinsed and spat the water out into a bucket.

  “Just softening him up a bit.” He murmured. “He thinks this is all I’ve got, and that I’m slow and a bit sluggish. I bet he thinks he’s gonna come out in the second round and take me down.”

  “Please tell me it’s an act?” Kris pleaded.

  Abram winked at him.

  “I didn’t want to piss Lebedev off by taking the asshole out in the first round.” He smirked. “I thought I’d leave it until round three. What do you think?”

&nb
sp; “I think you’d better watch he doesn’t come out all guns blazing and take you down in the second round.” Zach scowled at him.

  “Not gonna happen.” Abram smiled confidently before slipping his mouthguard back in.

  Yeah, the third round seemed respectable enough.

  Chapter 38 – Kellen

  Kellen watched Abs go back into the middle of the ring as the bell sounded, and as expected, the dude from team one came out all fists and feet flying.

  Abram did an exceptional job of covering up, only throwing out enough jabs and kicks to stop the guy getting too cocky and sure of himself.

  Now they had an idea that Abs was actually bluffing and holding back, Kellen felt a little more confident. Even so, Abram’s opponent was big enough and skilful enough to leave Kellen wary of a surprise attack, but thankfully, every time he lunged forward, Abs had an answer for him.

  Twice during the round, the guy took Abram to the mat. The first time, Abs’ weight was a little too far forward during a grapple, and the guy stepped back leaving Abs no place to go but to his knees. Thankfully Abs was agile enough to spring back up before the man could make any profit from it.

  The second time, Abs had looked like he was about to be caught in a neck hold, but at the last second, he launched sideways, rolling over so that the guy was beneath him, the momentum and a swift elbow to the guy’s ribs giving Abs enough freedom to leap straight back to his feet, leaving the guy winded and protecting his side.

  Before Kellen realised that five minutes had passed, the bell sounded, and Abs came back to the corner, looking like he was puffing and out of breath.

  “Are you Ok?” Zach asked him, passing him a bottle of water, and taking the gumshield off him so he could drink.

  “Peachy.” Abram smirked once he’d swallowed some water. “I think I’m all warmed up now.”

  “Yeah?” Zach grinned. “Then do you think you can finish this off now? I’ve realised that watching is far harder than actually doing, so if it’s all the same to you, my nerves could do with a rest before Kellen’s fight.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Abs rolled his eyes, one of the lids decidedly puffier than it had been at the start. “Give me another… two minutes, maybe, to finish him off.”

  “Two minutes?” Kris laughed. “You’re that confident?”

  “The guy keeps repeating the same pattern over and over.” Abs shrugged. “Unless he tries something different in the first thirty seconds to change my plan, I’ll have him on the floor inside a minute, and it’ll take another minute to get him unconscious. Less if he decides to tap out.”

  Zach snorted a laugh, and Kellen glanced towards Drago who was staring at them like they’d gone nuts.

  Ok, so maybe laughter wasn’t the expected reaction in the middle of a fight.

  “Go get ’em, tiger.” Kellen murmured as Abram slipped his mouthguard back in and headed back into the centre of the ring.

  Kellen watched as the fight slipped back into the same routine, and Abram ducked and weaved his way around the ring, landing the occasional blow and throwing out a random kick.

  As if the guy had timed it with a stopwatch, on the minute mark Abram ducked another punch, but instead of sliding sideways ready to throw out a jab, he stepped right into the other fighter’s personal space, unleashing a barrage of shots straight at the guy’s already punished ribcage.

  As the man gasped a painful breath, and turned away to protect his ribs, Abram used the momentary lapse of concentration to slide his arms around the guy’s neck and swing him around, pulling him backwards even as Abram fell to the floor. He wrapped one arm firmly around the Pole’s neck, locking his hands together, so he wouldn’t be able to break Abram’s grip, and effectively trapped the guy in a headlock. While the guy tried to grapple with the grip around his neck, Abs used the distraction to wrap his legs around the man’s waist.

  If the guy had only taken a few seconds to catch his breath and stop the panic he must have been feeling, he would have probably realised that a quick twist before Abs legs were completely around him would possibly have turned the whole thing around and forced Abs to loosen his hold.

  As it turned out, time was most definitely not the Pole’s friend, and before he was capable of rational thought, he was already turning red and gasping for breath.

  Kellen watched Abram tighten his hold and make the grip as secure as possible, before leaning down and saying something to the guy writhing on the floor.

  For a split second he thought the man was going to keep struggling until he passed out, but then Abram spat his gumshield out and said something else directly into the man’s ear.

  Without further ado, the man released one of Abram’s arms, reached out and tapped the floor. The referee darted forward, waving his arms to let everyone know that the fight was over.

  Abs wasted no time releasing the man, pulling him to a sitting position to give him the best chance of getting oxygen into his lungs quickly.

  As the man started to come back to himself, coughing and wheezing as he gulped air as though it was in short supply and about to go out of stock, Abs climbed to his feet to the applause of the neutral crowd and the cheers of his own teammates.

  He staggered to the corner as Lebedev climbed into the ring.

  “Gentlemen, I give you the winner of the first fight… team four.” He announced, turning to clap politely as Abs acknowledged the applause with a small wave of his hand.

  “You could probably do with getting some ice on that eye.” Zach noted as Abs climbed from the ring. “Those ribs as well if you want to be able to sleep properly tonight.”

  “They’re not too bad.” Abram grunted. “I’ve had worse after a bar fight.”

  “Maybe so… but you’ve only got forty-eight hours before you’re gonna be doing this again.” Kris pointed out. “That’s not much of a turnaround.”

  “Gentlemen, there will be a thirty-minute break before the next fight, so please have some refreshments. There is food in the dining hall should you feel hungry, and of course, your hostesses are available to service your every need.” Lebedev grinned at the small audience. “And I do mean your every need.”

  “Do you need anything?” Micky’s voice came from over his left shoulder and had Kellen swivelling around.

  “We could do with some ice for Abram’s eye and ribs.” He smiled at her.

  “I’ll have some delivered to your cabin.” She nodded. “And for you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll probably need some ice, too.” Kellen grinned.

  “I meant, is there anything you need for now?” Micky rolled her eyes. “The fight won’t be starting for almost half an hour, so do you want a snack or a drink?”

  Kellen shook his head.

  “Anything I take in now will almost certainly be expelled with the first punch I take to the gut.” He winced. “That wouldn’t be good for anyone sitting in the front row.”

  “No, I wouldn’t think so.” Micky smiled. “I’ll just stay further back now you’ve given me the warning.”

  “It’s probably better if you stay back anyway.” Kellen pointed out. “Looking like that, you’re far too much of a distraction as it is.”

  Micky looked down at the sexy black dress Sergei had provided for the occasion. It had a plunging neckline that only barely covered her modesty with the help of a lot of tape underneath, holding the material to the skin of her breasts. The dress was split up the side, which at least gave her the ability to move a little easier. Without the split, the skin-tight fabric would have left her shuffling along like a geisha.

  “I’d apologise for the outfit, but it wasn’t my choice, believe me.” Micky murmured, scowling down at the offending garment. “Sergei likes his people to dress a certain way, which is why most of his security team wear the same suits, and I’m given dresses like this to distract his customers.”

  “Well, it’s certainly distracting me.” Kellen winked at her. “Which for now is great, but not so much when I climb in the
ring.”

  “I’ll see if I can find a raincoat I can wear over the top.” Micky smiled. “Would that help me blend in with the crowd?”

  “Not with a beautiful face like that, it wouldn’t.” He sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to try and avert my eyes altogether.”

  “Yeah, like maybe you should try and keep them on the guy trying to kill you?” Kris interrupted. “Crazy thought, I know, but it might help you live longer.”

  “And there he is…!” Kellen rolled his eyes. “The guy with all the good advice.”

  “Yeah, well I suggest you listen to it.” Kris warned. “I don’t know what the rules are around here about taking drugs before a fight, but I just watched the guy you’re fighting snort something. It could just be coke, or it could be cut with something else, but my bet is that in thirty minutes, that guy is gonna be feeling like he’s the king of the world. Invincible! You’re gonna have a hard time convincing him he’s not.”

  “Unfortunately, there are no rules about drug-taking.” Micky frowned. “Unless of course you were trying to spike your opponent’s drink with something to stop him performing. But from what you’ve just seen, it’s all about what he’s just taken, not what he’s tried to give Kellen.”

  “Then I’ll just have to be faster than him.” Kellen shrugged.

  There wasn’t much else he could do to level that particular playing field short of taking some of the same drugs himself, and he damn sure wasn’t going to do that!

  “Is there anything else you guys need before I go over to speak to the other team?” Micky glanced around the assembled faces, before looking back at where Lebedev was talking to his guests. “I’d better go and spend an equal amount of time with team one to stop Sergei getting pissed.”

  “Watch yourself.” Kellen stared across at the other team. “They look like the sort of guys who’d take politeness as an invitation.”

  Micky blushed but gave him a smile.

  “I can take care of myself, but thanks for your concern.” She said quietly. “Good luck in there. Try not to get hurt.”

  Kellen watched her move away quickly, and his eyes followed the way her hips swayed in that ridiculously sexy dress.