JonDlundyn Parker adventure # 9 - 4
December 4th 2006 18:41
Now there were just four fighters, three managers and the five-man hit squad. Lundyn knew that this was the work of just one man, his current nemesis. He judged the situation; the men with the iron bars were more frightening than likely to be effective. It would take a blow to the head to knock him out before they became really dangerous. The gunman was there to give the coup-de-grace when the men with the iron bars were finished. He would shoot earlier if he had to but he was relaxing covering the three managers with the gun but watching the action about to start against the boxers.
One man moved with surprising speed between the two massage tables and cracked his iron bar over the skull of the South African boxer whose eyes rolled back in his head and he was out for the count. Without changing his pace he swung the bar at the American with a backhand motion. Before the bar could strike the big American had his foot in the small of the other man’s back and his kick hurtled him into the gaudily painted wooden lockers splintering them. As the first man was striking the South African Lundyn had reached for the wooden bench in front of him and picking it up he stabbed it toward two of the iron bar men. They retreated half a pace, which was time enough for Lundyn to smash the bench on the bare concrete floor. He pulled two of the broken slats from the bench and now he had a weapon in each hand. As he took his Kempo fighting stance the gunman swung his aim from the managers to Lundyn. As he swung the General moved with lightning speed and executed a perfect cutting chop with his right hand to the hand of the gunman. He did not drop his gun but his arm movement was so paralysed he could not use it. He tried to retaliate at the General with high flying kicks, but the General avoided the first two easily and when the third round house kick came the General crouched low and jabbed his five fingers in a sword stab directly to the crutch. The man dropped like a bag of potatoes to the floor. His gun slid under a wooden locker of no use to anyone. Roscoe moved on the first hint of movement from Lundyn. He approached one of the iron bar swingers and fended off the first swing with his massive shoulder and then it was over for that man. Once Roscoe was inside his guard, he grabbed the man by the throat in his huge paw, which encircled most of the scrawny neck and, while squeezing him, shook him like a rag doll. The big American had jumped off the massage table and now armed himself with an iron bar was doing damage to his now injured antagonist.
There were just two of the attackers left standing and it was only 12 seconds from when the last of the Thai boxers had made his wounded exit. They looked nervously about them, the huge naked bald man was choking the life out of one man, the big American was giving the one on the floor a hiding with his own iron bar and the gunman was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. The naked glistening man standing before them with two timber slats as weapons did not look like he was going to be a walk over. Two of the men had not even had a chance to join in the defence of the locker room. It was that moment of indecision that sealed their fate. Lundyn moved between them in one long flying leap, the timber slat in his right hand, splintered from its crash on the floor stabbed into the throat of one man. The second was striking his iron bar at where Lundyn had started his leap, He was over balanced and Lundyn simply kicked him in the butt as he turned and sent him flying along the floor where he crashed his head against the raised shower trim and became unconscious.
At that moment three well-dressed Thai men came racing in to the locker room with guns drawn. “Stop police!” one of them said. Roscoe dropped his man like a rag doll and the American breathing heavily now, more so than during his fight with the South African, stood but kept hold of the iron bar. The police looked around wide-eyed and then the one who had spoken stood before the General and said. “I see we were not too late in getting here at all. Our apologies. We were asked to watch out for you and to watch Ho Sin Lee. I am afraid he may have given us the slip now.”
“Don’t worry, no harm done” said the General. “But I think that fellow needs a doctor,” pointing to the South African still lying prone on his massage table.
One man moved with surprising speed between the two massage tables and cracked his iron bar over the skull of the South African boxer whose eyes rolled back in his head and he was out for the count. Without changing his pace he swung the bar at the American with a backhand motion. Before the bar could strike the big American had his foot in the small of the other man’s back and his kick hurtled him into the gaudily painted wooden lockers splintering them. As the first man was striking the South African Lundyn had reached for the wooden bench in front of him and picking it up he stabbed it toward two of the iron bar men. They retreated half a pace, which was time enough for Lundyn to smash the bench on the bare concrete floor. He pulled two of the broken slats from the bench and now he had a weapon in each hand. As he took his Kempo fighting stance the gunman swung his aim from the managers to Lundyn. As he swung the General moved with lightning speed and executed a perfect cutting chop with his right hand to the hand of the gunman. He did not drop his gun but his arm movement was so paralysed he could not use it. He tried to retaliate at the General with high flying kicks, but the General avoided the first two easily and when the third round house kick came the General crouched low and jabbed his five fingers in a sword stab directly to the crutch. The man dropped like a bag of potatoes to the floor. His gun slid under a wooden locker of no use to anyone. Roscoe moved on the first hint of movement from Lundyn. He approached one of the iron bar swingers and fended off the first swing with his massive shoulder and then it was over for that man. Once Roscoe was inside his guard, he grabbed the man by the throat in his huge paw, which encircled most of the scrawny neck and, while squeezing him, shook him like a rag doll. The big American had jumped off the massage table and now armed himself with an iron bar was doing damage to his now injured antagonist.
There were just two of the attackers left standing and it was only 12 seconds from when the last of the Thai boxers had made his wounded exit. They looked nervously about them, the huge naked bald man was choking the life out of one man, the big American was giving the one on the floor a hiding with his own iron bar and the gunman was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. The naked glistening man standing before them with two timber slats as weapons did not look like he was going to be a walk over. Two of the men had not even had a chance to join in the defence of the locker room. It was that moment of indecision that sealed their fate. Lundyn moved between them in one long flying leap, the timber slat in his right hand, splintered from its crash on the floor stabbed into the throat of one man. The second was striking his iron bar at where Lundyn had started his leap, He was over balanced and Lundyn simply kicked him in the butt as he turned and sent him flying along the floor where he crashed his head against the raised shower trim and became unconscious.
At that moment three well-dressed Thai men came racing in to the locker room with guns drawn. “Stop police!” one of them said. Roscoe dropped his man like a rag doll and the American breathing heavily now, more so than during his fight with the South African, stood but kept hold of the iron bar. The police looked around wide-eyed and then the one who had spoken stood before the General and said. “I see we were not too late in getting here at all. Our apologies. We were asked to watch out for you and to watch Ho Sin Lee. I am afraid he may have given us the slip now.”
“Don’t worry, no harm done” said the General. “But I think that fellow needs a doctor,” pointing to the South African still lying prone on his massage table.
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