Hard Case VII - Red Waves (John Harding Series Book 7) (14 page)

Tommy and I enjoyed that remark. I had no intention of losing to Juthamah. I was in the best shape of my life. Tommy knew it. He’s usually wringing his hands by now wondering if my UFC career is only one street fight away from ending. He wants the UFC championship. “Did you watch the UFC fight night, little brother?”

“Yes. Didn’t you?”

“Nope. I had a nice day and evening without UFC entertainment.” I knew Tommy watched it, but when he didn’t mention it, I figured it went the way we figured it would go. “Tommy’s not talkin’ so lay it on me. Did the Rock take the Viking?”

“It was a draw with Rock retaining his belt. It was a ground and pound snoozer for five rounds,” Jafar replied. “You would have kicked both their asses tonight. If I didn’t know better I would be thinking they did the tumbling around on the mat so they could get a rematch for big bucks and not have to face you.”

“It was a good match,” Tommy added. “Neither fighter wanted a meetup in the middle of the octagon throwing bombs with both hands. The two of them proved they have stamina. That was a damn exhausting match. The crowd was a little disappointed, but like Achmed said, it will be an easy rematch to sell with a big price tag. The Viking will be the ‘Great White Hope’ against ‘Bad Day at Black Rock’. It’s a sure draw.”

“I guess I’ll be off the grid unless I fight the lower ranked fighters.”

“They don’t want any part of you,” Jess came on to say. “Dev and I been putting out feelers for a tune-up match with the guys behind you in the rankings. They ain’t interested. We didn’t talk to agents and hangers-on either. We called the trainers and handlers. I don’t know how those guys think they’ll get ahead without fighting the ones in front of their asses.”

“Thanks, Jess. We’ll sort it all out after we do the job that really counts. I have an addition you and Dev might want to transfer for when the time comes.”

“If it means blowing up Isis tools, Dev and me are with you. We heard from Tommy. Even Snow White Sands is going.”

“You do know I’m on the network, right?”

Jess chuckled. “You do know I don’t give a shit, don’t you, T?”

“You guys watch your six coming in,” Dev warned. “There’s dudes clustering at the entrance. Clint, Lynn, Casey, and Denny are heading there. They don’t like the looks of these guys. They’re all in suits, big, and looking like Middle Eastern Euro-trash.”

“That’s not very politically correct of you, Mr. Constantine,” I told him in my stern Dark Lord voice.

“Blow it out your ears, DL,” Dev replied. “If you wait for ten minutes, Crue will probably have the hearts and tongues cut out of the clustering pack and all will be well. Alexi has his security people around them, but they’re rent-a-cops. Earl and ‘Rique won’t be on duty until the fight starts. My guess is they’re looking for you.”

“No need to disappoint them then. Like you said, Clint, Casey, and Lynn will be arriving shortly with Spawn. If they don’t just want to talk, Clint will shoot them all in the head, done deal.”

“I heard that, Cheese,” Clint said. “I am on my best behavior tonight as is my lovely wife. Try to use a little finesse in dealing with the gentlemen if they wish to talk with you.”

Lynn was yucking it up in the background while listening to the civilized Clint give me a lecture on meeting new people. “I’ve heard you people with no middle names are moody. I will be very forthright with the strangers waiting for me.”

“We have them in sight,” Lynn said. “They are watching for an arrival. There’s no way to know if it’s you or not. Dev’s right. I don’t like their looks. If they reach inside their suit jackets, back away with Tommy.”

“I will. How close are the people coming through to watch the fight?”

“They’re clear,” Casey said. “The half dozen suits await your arrival out of sight on your right as you enter the building. Dev and Jess took over at the entryway.”

“We’re herding the fans to your left away from the Euros,” Dev said. “I can’t figure these guys out. They could be here for a hit or to offer you a business deal.”

“We see you guys.” Jess waved from the entrance where he and Dev guided the patrons in. “We heard talk they’re calling themselves the Albanian Mafia, so maybe these are the Godfathers. Kneel when you get inside with your palms up, DL.”

Our network was still enjoying that ace when Tommy and I walked into the building with waves to the people waiting. This would surely complicate our selected deaths with so many witnesses. I’ll have to talk with Alexi. Maybe this formal setting isn’t going to work. Tommy dressed the part of our Oaktown Cartel leader to fill in for Crue’s minions. I turned to face the ‘suits’ as we entered. A lanky blonde haired dude with trimmed sandy beard stepped in front of us. I could tell he was a killer. He kept his hands in plain sight as did his compatriots. They were all over six feet tall with my greeter being the tallest, possibly an inch shorter than me. He smiled at me with a slight shake of his head.

“John Harding. Did you not get our message?”

I smiled back. He had one of those accents like the ‘two wild and crazy guys’, the Festrunk Brothers on Saturday Night Live long ago, played by Steve Martin and Dan Aykroyd. Achmed showed me YouTube videos of the skits they did on SNL. I may as well be friendly. “I’m not sure. Who are you?”

“That is of no matter,” Blondie told me. “We represent an Albanian business interest. We are expanding our business operations to the West Coast in a more formal manner. This farce where your Oaktown Cartel absorbs rival interests cannot go on. This winner take all fighting is humorous at best.”

“The fight fans love us,” I replied. This was getting more entertaining by the minute. I could just imagine Cruella Deville drinking this confrontation in like a fine wine. “Your associates contacted us with a proposed meeting in the octagon for our usual stakes. You do understand once the wager is made, we come here for the meeting, and if your champ doesn’t show, we absorb your organization. There are no take backs.”

“Damn it,” Lucas whispered in my ear. “Achmed? You idiot. Why don’t I have video up here? I’m missing everything.”

Jafar had joined Jess and Dev at our fan entrance. He rushed over with his iPad out. He stayed off to the side while filming. “I’m streaming it to your iPad, Ahab.”

“That’s better.” Lucas chuckled while Blondie became annoyed at our interruption with Jafar arriving to record the incident.

“Go away, kid,” Blondie ordered Jafar.

“I take orders only from John Harding… and sometimes from Cruella Deville,” Jafar replied. “I do not take orders from Euro-trash mobsters with a death wish.”

Sometimes it’s best to get things out in the open. What happened next cost us some points on the politico and Oakland PD meter. On the other hand, we avoided six dead bodies before the fight even started. Blondie did something I hadn’t seen since the ugly Russian woman agent in the James Bond flick ‘From Russia with Love’ tried doing it at the end of the movie. A triangular blade popped into a locked position at the end of Blondie’s dress shoe. He was very fast with a round house kick meant for my temple, but I spent months in the Bay with Tommy and Crue poking and prodding me. I was hell-a-fast. I blocked the kick at the ankle and my side-hand strike broke Blondie’s leg. The pussy fell on the floor gripping his shattered knee, screaming like a four year old girl who touched a hot stove burner.

My Monsters had weapons at the heads of Blondie’s five cohorts in a split second. I kicked Blondie in the face. He was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Tommy covered him with his Ruger, but he didn’t move after the kick. “Well boys, are you going to kneel and clasp hands behind your heads or die – your choice? They glowered at us but dropped down on knees with hands behind mobster heads. Jess, Dev, and Jafar, relieved them of all weapons, ID’s, and electronic devices. Tommy did Blondie personally. Alexi arrived a moment later, waving his security team in. They were told to stay out of monster business unless asked in.

“Secure these men and take them to holding.” Alexi watched his orders followed to the letter, including stripping them of their shoes, before turning to Denny and me. “I am sorry, John. We should have noted these men before they became a nuisance. Can we deal with this later without canceling the fight?”

“Of course. The shoe thing pissed me off or I would have just dropped him. He was going to kill me. Have you heard any word from their actual fighter?”

“His manager called as I was walking over. Juthamah will be here in five minutes. I told him his ploy failed and the men sent to disrupt our proceedings were in custody. He of course professed ignorance. I explained again the terms of the fight which he acknowledged. I will hold on to all his men. You will kill the leader of course that you hurt. What about the others?”

“I’m not sure, Alexi. These guys may have to be exterminated. The last Albanians we played with all had terrorist ties.” I saw my friends turn their attention to the entrance as did Alexi. It was our guest, the Juthamah.

“Oh my,” Lynn said. “He’s a big one, Cheese.”

He was indeed. Juthamah looked around with his beady little eyes. All the hair on his head was gone. I know he used to have some because Jess and Dev would have said something if he had been razor cut everywhere. I often jokingly refer to myself as the ogre from under a bridge. This was an ogre from under a bridge. His manager pointed at us. Juthamah’s beady orbs stared at me for a moment. Then he bellowed, scaring the crap out of the crowd still filtering in. We had experience with big butt-nuggets that bellowed so we started laughing. The manager played the ‘hold the Juthamah’ back as Jutamah shook his fists, plodding around as if trying to get at me. Granted, Juthamah was as big as a house and probably very hard to hurt. He had no neck to speak of. I grinned because I knew exactly what I planned to do with him.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, DL,” Tommy asked.

“Yep. It’s a good night for a workout. My trip down to Pacific Grove threw off our training. I need to get some work in, and Juthamah seems to fit the bill.”

Everyone moved away from the rampaging behemoth. He appeared to be a Hulk Hogan fan from the old days. Juthamah bellowed again and ripped his shirt off which led to out of control amusement from our side of the show. He and his manager played the ‘hold me back’ game again while he made threatening movements toward me.

“Oh my God… Cheese!” Lynn could hardly breathe. “This guy’s more precious than ‘Spinny’. If only he’d brought along a knife guy for me to carve tonight I’d be in 7
th
heaven.”

Crue referred to a ringer the ‘98 Crew’ brought to take me on. “This guy can’t do anything, Lynn. Spinny was entertaining as hell. If I don’t hit Juthamah in the gut too many times maybe he’ll do his bull bellow for a while.”

“What do you have planned,” Casey asked, while loosening his weapon again as the crew with Juthamah spread out a little.

“Get a good workout in, Case. I’m going to pound his arms until he can’t lift them. He’s muscle bound. The only way he killed anyone in the cage was choke them out. If he tries that on me, I’m going to make him see Smokey the Bear. Look at his thighs. He probably can’t even march with a high step. How the hell’s he going to kick anything?”

“Don’t get overconfident,” Denny warned. “We need you in one piece, DL.”

“Did you just insult me?”

“DL’s right,” Tommy said. “The only way Juthamah wins this or hurts John is if he somehow shoots bullets out of his mouth or something.”

“I don’t care!” Lucas’s voice barked in our ears. “You know what to do, Achmed. Don’t let me down. I want a perfect viewing.”

“On it, Ahab.” Achmed did not forget to keep Lucas in the loop. He had been streaming video to Lucas the whole time.

Jack Korlos joined us then. “It’s time, John. The crowd’s howling for blood. Can you entice your goofy opponent to get moving toward the octagon?”

“Sure, Jack. Lynn? You want to go see if Juthamah wants to fight or pick his toenails?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Lynn answered. “Hey, Betty!”

Lynn walked over to the Albanian crew without any hesitation, stopped, folded her arms over chest and tapped her foot impatiently while looking at her watch. “Hey dorky… yeah, you… the one pretending to be a manager. Get ‘Betty’ into the octagon. We’re behind schedule. If you wanted to dance around like this is the Bolshevik Ballet you should have brought your pussy around earlier.”

One of the crew reached out to grab Lynn. She sliced his arm from shoulder to wrist, separating suit coat, shirt, and skin. With a sparkling exhibit of knife handling skill, Lynn spun the knife around in a dexterity storm until the tip jabbed lightly into the cringing guy’s collar as he gripped his bleeding appendage.

“No touching, Veronica.” Lynn smiled at Juthamah. She’d stopped his playacting for the moment. “Go get into the octagon, Betty. We don’t have time for you to do anymore ballet twirls. You’re all out of shirts, so pick up your skirts and get your skank ass in the cage so we can get this show on the road.”

Although Juthamah wanted to break Lynn into little pieces, he recognized death when he saw it. He didn’t know if he had made any move toward her, Clint would have endured his wife’s rage at not being able to cut Juthamah’s heart out, and put three slugs between Juthamah’s horns. Instead, Juthamah pointed at me. He then made a breaking motion with his hands. It’s good he moved them around now. When I finished working out on Juthamah in the octagon, he might not be able to make any hand motions.