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“Where is the girl? She was to be here. Where did she and the others go?”

Sometimes my mouth tends to get the better of me and this wasn’t an exception, as in my best imitation British accent I quipped, “Sorry, old boy, no clue.”

My head snapped sideways as a phone started to ring somewhere. It took me a couple of seconds to realize it wasn’t a phone after all; it was my ears. The leader had backhanded me, hard.

“So Yankee, you got a smart mouth, huh. I close it for you, hey?”

I shook my head to clear the buzzing and to get the fuzziness out of my brain. The leader cocked the hammer on the .45. If I was going to get out of this I needed to make a move now. My only chance was to get him to hit me again. Well, not really hit me, but to try to hit me. I would take it from there.

Reverting to my most sarcastic tone, I replied.
“You’re wasting your time pal, no woman in her right mind would take a second look at you. You are way too ugly! As a matter of fact, if ugly was a brick, you’d be that ruined temple over there.”

I stopped to see if he would take the bait. The boy hadn’t moved, maybe he was a little dense or something. When he spoke, the words caught me completely by surprise.

“So, Mister Big-Shot- Simon, not so big now, huh,” he said with an evil smile spread across his ugly face.

He spoke with a heavy accent, the words sounded like Meester, and Beeg.

How did he know my name? What was going on here? A jolt ran through my body as I realized this was no bandit stickup. They were here for the girl and for me! I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to leave here alive. My plan wasn’t working like I wanted. I would need to put out a little more goading if I wanted them to make a mistake.
Back to my previous sarcastic tone and pretending I didn’t hear him, I said.“Yep, no ladies for you, dude, way too ugly! But, you might make it with ‘Kong’ over there; he looks more like your type.”

I turned my head in the direction of the biggest goon, giving the leader an opportunity. He didn’t disappointment me this time. With a snarl of hatred, he made his move.

As he reached to backhand me a second time, I made my own move. Bossman’s biggest mistake was thinking he had me where he wanted me. With rattlesnake quickness, I reached out both hands toward him. My right hand grabbed for his weapon and promptly disarmed him. My left hand gripped him by the shirtfront, pulling him toward me as I slammed my knee into his groin. He sagged against me, his stinking, rotten teeth breath wafted over me as serious pain showed on his truly ugly face.

My plan was to use him for a shield while I employed his weapon to take out the other goons. The plan worked, just not exactly as I imagined it would. To the right, Kong brought up his weapon and started firing as I swung Bossman around, placing his now limp body between the stuttering assault weapon and me. Four or five heavy slugs struck the main thug, stitching him from the left side buttocks to his right shoulder.

Bringing up the now dead man’s .45, I fired three times. Two shots hit Kong in the mid-chest area and one tore through his throat. Normally, three hits from a .45 would put any man down. Not so for Kong. He stood for a couple of seconds with a shocked look on his face, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. Then his face slackened and his body went limp. In silence, his now rag-doll form toppled to the dusty ground, convulsed once, then went still.

I hadn’t forgotten about Slim, the machete man. I’d figured him to be the least of the threats. That little thought almost got me killed since he was much quicker than expected. As it so happened, my peripheral vision saved my life.

My initial idea was to toss the dead leader away, turn and take out the third guy. Darkness was approaching but a flicker of light glancing off the large machete caused a quick plan change. Instead of shoving the leader away, I swung him around again, placing him between the gleaming blade and me. There was a sickening thud as metal met flesh and bone. The razor sharp cutting edge cleanly decapitated the leader. More blood gushed outward as I again fired my weapon three times.

The force of the machete swing turned blade man slightly away from me. One shot hit him in the right shoulder, spinning him further around and two went into his back, passing completely through, taking blood, bone fragments and tissue with them. He was dead before he fell. With the acrid taste of bile rising in my throat, I flung the headless blood-oozing body away from me.

My legs had suddenly turned to jelly. I walked over to a nearby rock and plopped down. I sat there for about five minutes until my breathing somewhat returned to normal. An encounter with sudden death always carried a price. Even though I was still alive, four others were not. No matter how much I justified my actions in my mind, it didn’t always help. Yes, it was kill or be killed; they would surely have killed me along with Hector. Sometimes, even that didn’t ease the pangs of guilt. I must admit however, I was thrilled to find out my reflexes weren’t those of an over-the-hill, wanna-be ninja…at least not yet.

I glanced toward the four bodies leaking fluids into the parched earth. Now what? It took another minute or so to come up with a plan of action. It was a simple plan.

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Publication Date: 07-25-2011

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