Elite (42 page)

Titan went to throw a quick left jab as he approached Daniel, much slower than the ones he had thrown previously, and Daniel dodged it easily. Daniel noticed Titan involuntarily cringe after throwing the jab, and that was when Daniel knew that he had his opponent beat.

As Titan got back into his stance, Daniel pivoted on his right foot, whipping his left leg around for a spin kick, aiming for the left side of Titan’s ribcage.

Titan dropped his elbow to block the kick. The block was successful, but Daniel knew it caused his opponent pain every time he moved in a way that disrupted his newly broken ribs.

Daniel continued his rotation, this time coming around with his right fist and directing it toward Titan’s head. Titan, though injured and in agonizing pain, brought his left arm up quick enough to block the punch.

The pain was increasing with every movement however, and as Titan lifted his left arm to block, his right instinctively dropped to his side, covering his midsection.

This was all the opening Daniel needed.

One last time, Daniel opened his neural pathways, took control of the signals being sent from his hindbrain to his body, told his heart to beat harder and faster, expanded his blood vessels and sent blood rushing and adrenaline flowing to his left arm, abdomen, and upper body. He sent the signal from his brain to the muscles in those areas, telling them to contract further and harder than ever before.

Daniel delivered a left-handed uppercut straight into Titan’s lower jaw, following through until his arm was fully extended, straight up in the air. Titan’s head was thrown backward, spit and blood flying in every direction.

The bell rang for the end of the first round as Titan teetered backward, losing his balance and landing on his behind. His body slumped to the side as he tried to get up. He was still conscious, but clearly woozy.

The referee quickly ran over to Titan to inspect the fighter’s condition. The referee grabbed Titan’s chin and turned his face to meet his, looking into the large man’s glossed over eyes. The crowd stood dead silent in nervous anticipation of the official’s ruling. After just two seconds of examination, the referee turned around and threw his hands up into the air, signaling that the fight was over.

The crowd cried out in astonishment. The rookie had slain the king.

Daniel flexed his muscles and let out a savage scream, releasing all of the aggression he had built up during the fight. Suddenly he felt light headed and the pain in his chest grew more intense, dropping him to all fours.

Horchoff
and another medic rushed to his side. Daniel closed his eyes and eased his heart rate, expanding his lungs and taking in large quantities of oxygen. Slowly, he was able to sit upright on his knees.

“Are you okay?”
Horchoff asked him.

“I will be,” Daniel responded with a grin, resting his hands on his thighs. He hadn’t expected to feel joy when it was over, but the emotion he was feeling at that moment was undeniable. He was happy.

Mr. Blank strolled casually over and came to a stop behind where Daniel was kneeling.

“Take a look, Danny Boy,” he said.

Daniel looked up from the ground to the wall on the far side of the arena, where the fabled rankings board hung for all to see. Next to the number one, where the name “Tyrus Jones” had been plastered for as long as anyone could remember, it now read “Daniel Hart.”

Epilogue

Back in the ready room Mr. Blank could not stop talking about all of the highlights of the fight, his favorite being Daniel’s high flying kick to the chest. Daniel smiled and laughed along as Doctor Horchoff monitored him closely to make sure that his heart rate was able to decrease to a normal pace without any issues, and that his extraordinary hormone levels didn’t cause any adverse effects.

“You did suffer a concussion this time,”
Horchoff stated. “Though only a mild one.”

Daniel smiled. He knew that he should have felt lucky to get out of the cage alive, but he had somehow never doubted that he would. It
were as though he had an angel on his shoulder, guiding him the whole way.

Figuratively, of course.

After several minutes of Horchoff’s examination and Blank’s storytelling, Richfield walked into the room carrying a file folder, not unlike the ones he used for filing mission reports.

“How’s Titan?” Daniel asked, hoping that he hadn’t dinged up the agencies number two agent too badly.

“A couple broken ribs, substantial concussion – he’ll be out a couple months,” Richfield answered, seemingly displeased by the damage done to his most decorated agent.

“I was going to give him this today,” Richfield continued, holding up the folder. “But since he’s out of commission and you’re the number one agent now, I guess this assignment belongs to you.”

Daniel took the folder from Richfield with slight hesitation. Richfield seemed annoyed at the fact that Daniel had defeated Titan, which Daniel found confusing seeing as the whole idea behind Daniel’s joining Elite was that he would become the number one agent in a relatively short period of time. Maybe Richfield had thought that would somehow happen without any collateral damage, i.e. Titan.

Or maybe he had just lost a bet with Blank.

Daniel opened the folder to examine the details of his new assignment. It was bound to be far more dangerous and intense than his previous four since he had just vaulted thirty-eight spots in the rankings, but he could never have prepared for what he found inside.

“The client is one of our most valued customers,” Richfield commented.

Blank stood silent with a solemn look on his face, as though he already knew who the client was.

“Gordon
Demérs,” Daniel said, reading the brief.

“And his fiancé,” Richfield added.