It had been a twenty-four-hour round trip to Honduras and back, with only one brief rest for fuel and some dinner on the return. In a straight line, the trip would have only taken her ten hours flying time. But on the return trip she’d had to fly from Santa Rita over the Gulf of Honduras, landing near Tizimin on a small farm property. The people there were nice. They always had great food and best of all their fuel was reliable. Bad fuel had caused the death of many a smuggler in that region and it was not her intention to add to those statistics. But Jake and Sid had assured her the fuel from the Tizimin farm was good, and they’d been right. All her trips had so far been accomplished without incident.
After leaving Tizimin she had flown northwest over the Gulf of Mexico before heading west over Padre Island to the landing area. The route was very similar to the one she’d taken five years ago when she’d escaped Kurmia, and she was surprised to find nothing much had changed. Best of all she could still get through undetected. The thought of Kurmia gave her a cold shudder. Quickly she turned her focus to the job.
The money she would make from smuggling in the gems, gold, silver, native artifacts and handmade toys from small villages hardly seemed worth the risk and difficulty she’d just been through. Well, at least some of the villagers had made money out of the deal. They looked like they could use a bit of extra cash. She would be glad when it was twenty hundred hours and Jake and Sid arrived to take her cargo away. In the meantime she stood inside the hangar of the small private airstrip in Southern Texas doing some routine engine maintenance.
A warm breeze was blowing in through the wide open hangar doors. She was wiping the grease from her fingers when she heard the distinctive sound of the safety catch of a gun.
‘Ryan,’ the voice said authoritatively.
She swung round to see a giant of a man holding a gun.
‘Got a full load there?’ Big Jim said, motioning at the aircraft visible through the open hangar door.
He couldn’t help noticing how much like Alli this girl looked. Ryan’s hair was a little longer, and she wasn’t quite as tall as Alli, but all the same the resemblance was striking, more so than it had been in the photographs. He reminded himself that this girl was a drug smuggler and had just imported five hundred kilos of cocaine into his country. He thought of the two policemen who had been wounded today by her associates. And he thought of his parents and his sister Sofie.
‘Do I know you?’ Angie asked, as she continued wiping her hands on an oily rag, showing no outward sign of fear in her demeanor. Then she frowned and put down the rag.
‘You’re Big Jim,’ she said after a moment. ‘Aren’t I a little bit little league for you to be concerned about?’
‘Congratulations, you’ve made it to the big league now,’ he snarled, as he walked around to the table where the remote control for the door lay. Picking it up he pointed it at the hangar doors, his other hand still keeping his gun aimed directly at the girl’s head.
‘I’ve just got a bit of duty-free shopping out there. You’re surely not going to put me in jail over that, are you?’ she asked in a calm voice.
‘No,’ he replied as the doors continued closing. ‘I’m going to put you in hospital.’
‘What’s this about, big boy?’ she asked still looking calm.
‘It’s about me breaking every bone in your body.’
She bit her lip. ‘Well, the one with the gun calls the shots. You’d find that without that Ruger in your hand my bones don’t break all that easy.’
The doors finished closing and he smiled slightly as he emptied his ammunition onto the floor. With perps like these he just needed the excuse. ‘You think you can fight me?’
‘A small chance is better than none,’ she replied steadily, taking off her watch. ‘And I promise you this. You won’t come out of it unscathed.’ Great, that had him really frightened, she thought sarcastically. Her own gun along with her knife was in her bag in the cockpit of the GA-7 Cougar parked just outside the hangar. How could she have been so careless? She did not really feel the situation had improved in her favor to any significant degree despite the fact that now the gun had gone. He looked more than capable of carrying out his threat. She recalled the last time she had seen him compete in an international Karate championship on the television. He was one of the best.
‘Anyway, wasn’t it only a silver medal last year? You seemed to move kind of slow,’ she said lightly. There didn’t seem to be any reason to try not to annoy him more at this stage. He already seemed pretty annoyed.
Every now and again something would happen which reminded Big Jim that drug traffickers were people too, doing the same sort of things that other people did. This girl had watched him compete. He tried to put the thought out of his mind. ‘If you’ve got any other smart-ass comments to make, Ryan, you better make them now. You won’t have too much to say after I smash your teeth
halfway down your throat.’
Now the big hangar doors were almost closed.
‘Aren’t you going to try and bribe me?’ he asked. ‘That’s usually the next move for scum like you.’
‘Would there be any point?’ she asked fixing him with a penetrating gaze from a pair of bright blue eyes.
He smiled slightly. ‘No. Absolutely none.’
He walked towards her. She put one hand on the bench and leapt into the air kicking him in the face, before spinning to kick him in the chest and then punching him in the abdomen. It was like hitting a rock wall. She’d felt the impact of each of her kicks going into her knee and hip. For a moment he didn’t move. He didn’t need to. Then he laughed.
His superior, derisive expression, his laughter, and the fact that he had not even lifted his hands to protect himself infuriated her. ‘Oops,’ she gulped, rubbing her jarred wrist. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t like to talk about this?’ The murderous look in the big man’s eyes scared her much more than his threats.
She remembered the Olecian monks from years ago – on fighting the bigger opponent. What was the main teaching? The power of the spoken word. If that fails? What then? – ‘Best to run.’ But all the exits were closed. And then? To use their own momentum – that was it. Yet that was all she had ever done as most were bigger than her. But this man was a mountain and it was all solid muscle.
After her disastrous fight with Lanham the gunrunner, she’d trained intensively in martial arts, and since then she’d not come across one single man whom she was afraid to tackle. Even several at once had been just a game to her. A way of keeping up her skills and warding off frustration. This was different. She began backing away. What else had the monks taught her? Victory depends on your ability to tell vulnerable points from invulnerable ones. But how the hell was she going to do that?
Big Jim resisted the urge to rub his bruised cheek. This girl had obviously studied martial arts, but he doubted she would have ever tackled an opponent of his size and build before.
‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ he said in menacing tones. ‘You’re scum and you’re going to pay!’
‘You’re insane,’ she replied backing away a little more as he slowly moved towards her.
Probably true, he thought as he swung a punch at her which she barely ducked. But as his arm went past her shoulder she stepped forwards and grabbed it. She used his momentum against him, in a move he had performed himself in competition but had never had used on him before. It was a courageous move, perfectly executed, blindingly fast, and completely unexpected. He rolled backwards and quickly found his feet again. He would have to be careful. There was more to this Ryan girl than met the eye.
She picked up a piece of lumber, jumped up onto the workbench and spun the wood over her head. ‘If you think I’m a drug smuggler you’re wrong!’
He leaped onto the bench as well and split the wood with the side of his hand as she swung it at him. ‘I know what you are, Ryan.’
Her mind went back to Olecia and the white-haired great master. ‘Do not think you have to win little one,’ he had told her. ‘Think, rather, that you do not have to lose.’ She pictured the shotgun hidden under the bench against the far wall. But how to get hold of it? If she tried to run over there, he would guess there was a weapon and stop her in her tracks. She told herself to stay calm. Those last three blows she had dealt him had to have hurt. They were well placed and she herself was no amateur. He was just trying to out-psyche her. Next time she would smash him in the knee with her foot, no holds barred. This wasn’t the time to be pussyfooting around. And Jake and Sid were always armed and they would be here soon.
He saw her glance at the clock on the wall. ‘Think your two cronies are coming to save you? Better think again. I’ve dealt with them both already.’
‘What have you done to them?’
‘This.’ Now he attacked.
One of his kicks hit her in the face, splitting her lip and sending her flying off the bench onto the floor. She’d avoided much of the impact by rolling with the blow and in a second was back on her feet. He attacked her with more kicks and punches eventually knocking her to the ground once more. She rolled away from him and quickly got to her feet again.
‘Nice awase uke,’ he said, complimenting on her combined block she had used during his last series of strikes. ‘Thanks. Your ren-geri wasn’t bad either,’ she panted, referring to his consecutive left and then right kicking technique.
‘Ashi waza’s my forte,’ he replied using the Japanese term given to all leg and foot moves. As if to prove a point he launched a right leg side kick at her, but she predicted it correctly. Dropping to her left knee she rotated under his kick and swung the back of her extended right leg into his left calf while his right leg was still in the air, thus sweeping him over. It was a move that only worked because of her expert timing. He landed heavily and just managed to roll out of the way in time to avoid her stomp, before springing back to his feet. He ran at her and she dodged, putting the workbench between the two of them. Unlike him she was breathing heavily. When he moved, she moved, still keeping the bench as a barrier between them. He watched as she touched her split lip with her tongue, never taking her eyes off him.
‘You’re strong, and combat trained,’ she panted, ‘but maybe you’re not as fast as me.’ He moved towards her and, just as before, she moved away again, keeping the workbench as a barrier between them. If it hadn’t been bolted to the floor he
would have picked it up and thrown it at her.
‘Ha,’ she said triumphantly. ‘All brawn and no brains.’ She pushed some hair out of her face, and smiled slightly. ‘Hikiwake,’ she panted, which was a Japanese Karate term for draw or tie.
Don’t bet on it, he thought. Without a word he raised his right arm and brought the side of his hand down onto the bench top. It partially shattered, then, as he repeated the move a couple more times, it broke in half. He kicked a piece of it away, sending it scudding across the room.
‘Oh shit,’ she said as she picked up part of the remains of the shattered bench to use as a weapon. ‘Sorry, I don’t know the Japanese word for shit.’
‘It’s geri.’
‘I thought that meant kick.’
‘Only when it’s added to another word to describe the kick.’
‘That’s so cool. I get an education on Jap lingo while you annihilate me.’ As she backed away he ran towards her and kicked the piece of timber out of her hand. ‘Okay,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I didn’t want to do this but you’re forcing me to use my backup plan.’
‘Backup plan?’ Was that why she seemed so confident? He looked around making sure they were still alone. There was no one else around, and no weapons in sight. She was bluffing.
‘That’s where you make a plan to counter someone else’s plan in case your first plan fails. I call it plan B. It’s a type of strategy to …’
‘Let’s see this so-called backup plan then.’
‘Yeah, okay. Just wait here a minute and I’ll go and get it.’
Deciding it was time to stop playing games, he smiled slightly, then attacked.
She only managed to duck one punch before Big Jim knocked her down again. As she fell, she performed a backward roll, grabbing the jar as she did so, then smoothly bounced back onto her feet once more. Without stopping, she ran for the nearest hangar door. Predictably he followed and as he approached she undid the jar, scattering the ball-bearings at his feet. There was a long heavy steel chain hanging down near the right side of this door which allowed one to open the door manually without the remote control. Angie began pulling on the chain as Big Jim lost his footing and crashed heavily to the ground with a loud oath.
‘Hope you enjoyed the trip,’ she said breathlessly as she struggled to pull the door up as quickly as possible. The door had only opened a few inches when he was nearly upon her. The opening wasn’t wide enough.
Now seething with rage he yelled, ‘I’m going to make you sorry for that!’
‘What,’ Angie said as she twirled the free end of the chain above her head and to either side of her body, thus forcing him to step back from her again. ‘You mean you’ve thought of something worse to do to me than you had in mind before?’ The chain hummed as it sliced through the air in front of him.
He kicked out at her but was a little too slow, and she wrapped the chain around his leg yanking him to the ground. As he tried to get up she hit him with the chain across the left side of his head. He rolled out of the way before she could hit him with the chain a second time, and he felt the blood trickling down the side of his face. He touched the wound then looked at the blood on his fingers. Seeing Ryan pulling the door open even further he leapt back to his feet and charged at her yet again. This time she jumped up, grabbed the part of the chain that was above her, and swung her foot at his head. It was a blow that might well have been lethal to any ordinary man. He staggered backwards, and her weight on the chain opened the door even more. Now the gap was wide enough for an exit. Dropping to the ground, she began to squirm through on her belly.
Although dazed by her last kick, Big Jim wasn’t going to let his quarry get away. He raced towards the door and managed to grab one of Ryan’s ankles before she completely disappeared.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ he said as he began dragging her back inside the hangar. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’
Once he had her back inside again, he released his grip on her ankle and allowed her to get up, only to knock her down yet again with a kick to the side of her head. He was playing with her. Any of his blows that connected could have been disabling or lethal. He gave her time to recover in between attacks. ‘You’re scum. You bring your poison into our country. Kill our children, destroy lives.’ Now he was hitting harder. He punched her in the stomach, causing her to double over coughing. The next blow caught her in the right eye socket and sent her flying backward to the ground. She looked up at him from where she lay on the ground on her back. ‘Great, now there’s two of you. That’s all I need.’
‘I’ll tell you what you’re going to need.’
‘You fucking bastard,’ she said from where she lay on the floor, not even trying to get up as he came towards her. ‘You’d better make a good job of this. Both of you.’
‘Oh I intend to,’ he said reaching towards her. He dragged her up by the throat, holding her so that her feet were barely touching the ground and repeatedly punched her to the body. He could see she was choking on her own blood and he felt her ribs cracking under his fist with each blow. Although choking, she managed to gasp, ‘That all you got?’
Suddenly he released his grip and let her fall to the floor. He hadn’t intended to kill her. She’d put up much more of a fight than he’d expected and almost managed to escape. His father had always taught him never to hit girls. But in his mind drug smugglers didn’t count. They were something less than human. He stood over her, feeling suddenly disgusted with himself. Most of the villains he dealt with turned to cowards in his hands. This girl was an exception, and he couldn’t help but admire her bravado and her combat expertise.
He noticed her squinting through her left eye then only just moved away in time to avoid a crippling kick to the balls. Most of the force of the blow impacted on his inner thigh, but even so a fiery pain shot through from his left testicle to his stomach. Blinded by the unexpected agony, he picked her up bodily and threw her across the room. She crashed heavily onto a side wall above another workbench, rolled forward across the bench, gasping as the impact injured further her already damaged chest and smashed her left shoulderblade. As she rolled forward, she reached down under the bench and pulled out a shotgun. In one smooth continuous movement she cocked it and aimed it at his head landing on her feet on the concrete floor.
‘Top this, hotshot!’ she said.
If she’d even glanced once at that bench during the fight, he would have guessed there was a weapon there, but she had not. He tried to maintain his composure as she walked forward, the barrel pointing directly between his eyes. He was dead. After what he’d just done to her she’d kill him for sure. Unless she made the mistake of getting close enough for him to grab the gun or kick it from her grasp. That didn’t seem likely. She carried the gun like it was an old friend, and from what he’d seen of her already he knew she was no amateur at combat.
‘I know you’re wearing a vest, but your head’s plenty big enough target for me … even with one eye,’ she panted. ‘Understand, I won’t need much of an excuse, Jimbo.’ She motioned with her head towards the remote control unit of the hangar door. ‘Open the door.’
She forced him outside towards the aircraft, and then made him open the cargo hatch. ‘Pull those crates out,’ she ordered. When he had removed three from the back of the aircraft, she said, breathing hard, ‘Now show me these drugs.’
Puzzled he dutifully broke open the solid tops of the wooden crates with ease, using blows from the side of his massive hand, threw a layer of odds and ends onto the ground, reached inside and pulled out packets of white powder.
Angie was stunned. ‘How the fuck …?’
‘You mean to tell me you never check your load before you do a job?’ he asked incredulously.
‘Of course I do – random checks, before I leave …’ She was becoming increasingly breathless and he guessed that her broken ribs had punctured her lungs.
‘Where do you refuel?’ he asked, now certain this girl had not been knowingly smuggling drugs.
‘Tizimin!’ she replied, suddenly aware of where and when her cargo was switched. ‘I refuel at – Tizimin. The bastards …’ She was looking even more breathless, and no longer talking in whole sentences. ‘I have dinner – at a farmhouse at – the airstrip.’
His heart sank as he realized he had injured, probably fatally, an innocent girl. Obviously her cargo had been switched. ‘Where’s your first aid kit?’ he demanded, starting toward the cockpit.
‘Don’t – move.’
‘You need help. Your broken ribs have punctured your lungs and they’re collapsing.’
‘Keep your hands – in the air.’
‘If you don’t let me get you some medical help you’ll die,’ he said, noting the blue tinge to her lips which signaled low oxygen levels in her system.
‘Too late,’ she gasped.
Big Jim could see by the look in her eyes that she had murder on her mind. Well, he deserved it. He’d taken the law into his own hands and this was the result. He thought of Visner who would now remain free. His memory took him back to when he was ten years old, the night his parents were killed. The night his life changed forever.