Page 5 of Fight

It would be interesting to watch Ciprian dismantle them.

Not that there would be much to see.

On Markov’s word, the two men rushed Ciprian, one swinging for his face as the other aimed at his midsection.

Both missed.

Ciprian stepped aside smoothly and took out the first man’s knee with a well-placed kick.

The low pop of the collapsing joint was drowned out by the man’s screams, screams that were themselves soon drowned out by the remaining man’s aggressive yell.

He lunged at Ciprian, enraged now, but far more fearful, I could see. But there was no way out, so he continued his assault, swinging wildly.

Ciprian easily avoided the blows, and when the man swung again, Ciprian countered, landing a bruising punch at his side.

The man crumpled, his entire chest seeming to collapse from the force of Ciprian’s blow. When the man tried to suck in a breath, he let out a sharp scream of pain. From the location and force of the punch, I guessed Ciprian had broken two, maybe three of the man’s ribs. Breathing would hurt very badly and for a very long time, but he’d heal. His friend, on the other hand, would have a permanent limp.

Markov called an end to the fight. Less than a minute, and it was over. I watched Ciprian as he watched the two men being dragged from the room, his face completely unmoving.

He hadn’t even broken a sweat, and it was still early. This little warm-up had only been an appetizer for whatever the main course was to be.

I looked to Markov again and saw a particularly evil glint in his eye. It put me immediately on edge. He looked almost happy, which meant that nothing good was in store.

The crowd was completely quiet now, seeming to hum with anticipation, not even the sound of unending bets ringing out.

I’d heard that Markov had hit a troubling spot. Sometimes Ciprian lost, but those times were so few and far between that no one who valued his money dared bet against him. There were always those who wanted to test the odds, but fewer and fewer, which meant that the obscene amount of money that Markov made off Ciprian was becoming slightly less obscene.

And I knew eventually Markov would do something to stop the bleeding. I had no idea what that would be, but suspected I would soon find out.

That suspicion was confirmed when Markov stood.

The already quiet room went deadly silent and each eye was on Markov. He loved it, soaked it up for long moments before he finally spoke.

“Ciprian wins again. We know he can’t be defeated, so I have something special in mind. For this next challenge, the question isn’t if Ciprian will win, but how long it will take. Less than a minute, I’d say, but you’ll have to place your own bets.”

The crowd stirred with both excitement and confusion, and I watched as wads of cash were exchanged and marks taken.

“Who is his opponent?”

The question came from somewhere in the back, and though the speaker didn’t emerge from the crowd, Markov nodded his approval.

“That is a very excellent question. Meet this evening’s final challenger,” he said.

As if on cue, the heavy stainless steel door on the opposite side of the room opened.

“Let me go!”

A woman’s voice.

The sound was so out of context here, I almost didn’t recognize it, or more accurately, didn’t want to accept what it was. But there was no denying it, not when I saw two men I recognized as Markov’s carrying a woman.

Her ankles were wrapped with tape, binding them together. Still, she tried desperately to kick, bending and straightening her knees, searching for leverage against the man who held her legs. Her moves were completely futile.

Good thing for the one who held her. She looked strong, and determined, and it would have hurt badly if she’d gotten him.

The one who held her arms fared only slightly better. Her hands were free, but she couldn’t move them or her arms because they had been taped to her body, her wrists as well, trapping them with little room for her to move.

But she still struggled, tried to wrestle herself from their hold. It would have been bad if she’d been successful because she would have landed on the hard floor with no way to break her fall, and from the looks on the faces of the men who held her, they were more than tempted to drop her.

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