crash toward him. The knit cap trucker led the way. He cocked his fist back for the first devastating strike. Ben ducked low and kicked out into the side of the first trucker’s knee. Ben’s cold shin immediately ached.
The trucker’s scowl of rage cracked into a shocked look of pain. He bent awkwardly and listed hard to his left. Bald trucker’s attack slowed. He didn’t stop to help his friend who fell to the ground; instead his footsteps became lighter as he had to pick his way around the man.
Three openings on the bald trucker would allow Ben to finish the fight: side of the neck, groin, temple. He didn’t take any of them. These men, and anyone watching, couldn’t know the extent of his skills.
The bald trucker stumbled his way into Ben’s guard and grabbed him by the shoulders. Again, he had options. The most flamboyant of which was to completely flip the trucker onto the hard asphalt. But that would reveal martial arts and combat training.
It didn’t mean, though, that Ben was willing to lose the fight. He just had to roughen the edges on his usually sweet H2H game. A subtle twist of his torso pulled the bald trucker off balance. He pressed forward awkwardly as Ben maintained his balance and slid backward.
The bald trucker leaned hard on him, open mouth stinking of chewing tobacco. Ben dipped for leverage, balled a fist and drove a hard jab into the man’s solar plexus. Bald trucker grunted hard, then ran out of breath. His grip loosened on Ben’s shoulders and he fell into his body while convulsing for air. Ben slid sideways out from under the weight of the bald trucker, who went to his hands and knees, wheezing.
From half-standing, the knit cap trucker lunged forward and punched Ben in the stomach. It came from an awkward angle, and the man didn’t have his full force behind it, but the blow still stung as Ben tightened his abs and controlled his breath. He’d had worse sparring in the MMA gym where he trained.
The knit cap trucker hobbled onto his one good leg and tried another swing. Ben leaned back from this one and raked a backhand across the man’s face. The trucker’s head was hard, and pain jabbed into Ben’s knuckles. It would take a lot to knock him out. But from the way he blinked, he wasn’t quite ready to take another hit just yet.
The tweaker wanted a piece of the action, though. He hissed and rushed Ben.
And all the while, Ben knew the cops sat in the comfort of the diner and watched everything. Wouldn’t have taken much for them to saunter out and break up the fight with a casual, “Alright, fellas.” But he bet they’d incited the fight in the first place in order to get him out of town. The peace they preserved didn’t include Ben.
There were no weapons in the tweaker’s hands, so Ben pretended to be overwhelmed by the onslaught and backpedaled. Hard blows rained in from the tweaker, and Ben closed his guard. Quick punches landed on his shoulders and glanced across his forearms. The tweaker jumped from side to side, and Ben caught glimpses of knit cap trucker getting completely to his feet and the bald trucker collecting his breath.
Ben let one of the tweaker’s wide punches through his guard. Hard knuckles scraped Ben’s jaw. The flash of pain lit his fuse. He wanted to demolish these men. He wanted send this whole town the message that he’d level anyone who came across him.
But he had to do it right. As an operator with Automatik. And Mary’s partner in the field. Winning this fight didn’t have to look pretty. Total mission success would be the payoff.
Ben slapped another punch from the tweaker away and let his own fist fly into the man’s face. The man’s teeth rattled and he shuddered, dazed. Ben’s adrenaline masked the pain in his fist and he grabbed the tweaker’s collar and ran, making him stumble backward. Before the lean trucker collected his footing, Ben slammed him into the man in the knit cap.
The injured knee gave way, and the knit cap
The trucker’s scowl of rage cracked into a shocked look of pain. He bent awkwardly and listed hard to his left. Bald trucker’s attack slowed. He didn’t stop to help his friend who fell to the ground; instead his footsteps became lighter as he had to pick his way around the man.
Three openings on the bald trucker would allow Ben to finish the fight: side of the neck, groin, temple. He didn’t take any of them. These men, and anyone watching, couldn’t know the extent of his skills.
The bald trucker stumbled his way into Ben’s guard and grabbed him by the shoulders. Again, he had options. The most flamboyant of which was to completely flip the trucker onto the hard asphalt. But that would reveal martial arts and combat training.
It didn’t mean, though, that Ben was willing to lose the fight. He just had to roughen the edges on his usually sweet H2H game. A subtle twist of his torso pulled the bald trucker off balance. He pressed forward awkwardly as Ben maintained his balance and slid backward.
The bald trucker leaned hard on him, open mouth stinking of chewing tobacco. Ben dipped for leverage, balled a fist and drove a hard jab into the man’s solar plexus. Bald trucker grunted hard, then ran out of breath. His grip loosened on Ben’s shoulders and he fell into his body while convulsing for air. Ben slid sideways out from under the weight of the bald trucker, who went to his hands and knees, wheezing.
From half-standing, the knit cap trucker lunged forward and punched Ben in the stomach. It came from an awkward angle, and the man didn’t have his full force behind it, but the blow still stung as Ben tightened his abs and controlled his breath. He’d had worse sparring in the MMA gym where he trained.
The knit cap trucker hobbled onto his one good leg and tried another swing. Ben leaned back from this one and raked a backhand across the man’s face. The trucker’s head was hard, and pain jabbed into Ben’s knuckles. It would take a lot to knock him out. But from the way he blinked, he wasn’t quite ready to take another hit just yet.
The tweaker wanted a piece of the action, though. He hissed and rushed Ben.
And all the while, Ben knew the cops sat in the comfort of the diner and watched everything. Wouldn’t have taken much for them to saunter out and break up the fight with a casual, “Alright, fellas.” But he bet they’d incited the fight in the first place in order to get him out of town. The peace they preserved didn’t include Ben.
There were no weapons in the tweaker’s hands, so Ben pretended to be overwhelmed by the onslaught and backpedaled. Hard blows rained in from the tweaker, and Ben closed his guard. Quick punches landed on his shoulders and glanced across his forearms. The tweaker jumped from side to side, and Ben caught glimpses of knit cap trucker getting completely to his feet and the bald trucker collecting his breath.
Ben let one of the tweaker’s wide punches through his guard. Hard knuckles scraped Ben’s jaw. The flash of pain lit his fuse. He wanted to demolish these men. He wanted send this whole town the message that he’d level anyone who came across him.
But he had to do it right. As an operator with Automatik. And Mary’s partner in the field. Winning this fight didn’t have to look pretty. Total mission success would be the payoff.
Ben slapped another punch from the tweaker away and let his own fist fly into the man’s face. The man’s teeth rattled and he shuddered, dazed. Ben’s adrenaline masked the pain in his fist and he grabbed the tweaker’s collar and ran, making him stumble backward. Before the lean trucker collected his footing, Ben slammed him into the man in the knit cap.
The injured knee gave way, and the knit cap
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