Masters at Arms - By Kallypso Masters Page 0,7

and felt a pang of guilt when the light went out of her eyes. But at least he’d wiped the hero worship from her gaze.

“They don’t understand.”

“I’ll bet they understand more than you know.”

“No, they…”

She gasped as she looked beyond his shoulder. He looked in the direction of her distressed gaze and saw the pimp had returned with a couple of his thugs.

Adam smiled. Bring it on, boys. I’ve got nothing left to lose.

Then he remembered Karla and knew he couldn’t let them anywhere near her tonight. He turned back toward her.

“Karla, look at me. Now.” When she finally dragged her gaze away from the pimp and his scumbag buddies, Adam said, “Go to the ladies room and stay there until you hear me give you the all-clear. If there’s a lock on the outside door, use it. If not, lock yourself in one of the stalls.” Her blue eyes grew as wide as saucers. She swallowed hard, but sat frozen. Using his master sergeant’s voice, he growled. “Now!” She jumped, and then her blank stare focused on his face a second before her hands clutched her backpack. She ran toward the head.

“Good girl,” he said, though he knew she didn’t hear him.

With Karla out of harm’s way, he could devote his full attention to the bilge rats slowly approaching him. He stood and set his legs, preparing for battle. The one on the far left held a switchblade. The one on the right wore brass knuckles. The pimp just wore a cocky smirk.

You may think you have the upper hand, punk. But I’m going to show you different.

“What’s the matter, soldier boy? Haven’t been able to get into her pants yet? Mebbe I need to show you some moves.”

Okay, perv. Now I’m pissed.

“Yeah, I’d like to see that.”

Adam knew his commanding officer would be pissed, too, if one of his master sergeants was tossed in jail, so he waited for one of the punks to make the first move. The few people waiting for buses scattered to the other end of the terminal, out of danger. Except for the passed-out wino, but he wasn’t in the way.

Adam didn’t have long to wait. The man carrying the knife lunged with his body his weapon pointed toward Adam’s gut. Adam answered with a spinning hook kick to the side of the man’s head. The knife flew from his hand as he fell to a heap on the floor.

That should even the odds a little bit.

Movement. Out of his peripheral vision, Adam saw the dickhead with the brass knuckles move, expanding the area Adam needed to defend. The first punch headed straight for Adam’s kidney. He swung away to evade contact. His two-week bender must have slowed down his reaction time. But at least the impact of the blow landed on Adam’s shoulder blade and not his kidney. The dickhead followed with a bare-knuckled blow to his mouth. Adam groaned at the impact. Focus, man.

Adam stepped back. He needed room. Swing. Now! His roundhouse kick landed squarely against Brass Knuckle’s ear. The man reeled sideways until he hit the bank of chairs. He sat down abruptly, the expression on his face one of stunned disbelief. Dazed. The man’s eyes glazed over as he curled onto his side.

Breathing hard, Adam turned toward the pimp. Now, prick, it’s just you and me.

Once again, Adam waited for the man to make the first move. Without his bodyguards, he appeared to have lost his bravado just when it would have become a fair fight. The pimp backed away from Adam, toward the ticket counter. Adam stalked him like a puma.

With his peripheral vision, Adam watched two of Chicago’s finest enter the building with weapons drawn.

“Hands in the air!”

Adam complied, but apparently they knew their usual suspect and one of the officers had the pimp face down on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, within fifteen seconds. Adam spoke with the second officer briefly to let him know what had happened. He was grateful they only asked for his name and cell phone number. They could follow up with him later if they needed more information.

But Adam needed to make sure Karla was all right.

* * *

Karla huddled in the bathroom stall. She’d locked the stall door in hopes of protecting herself if those guys had come after her. Yeah, some protection. The so-called lock barely kept the door closed for privacy, much less safety.

She couldn’t stop shaking. Her stomach clenched and heaved. At least there