Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,33
Bailey’s survival, as well as his own, depended on his actions in the next few minutes.
Gigantor skulked closer to their meager cover. Con kept his gaze on the suspect’s hands, as he’d been taught. Broad and scarred, with prominent veins. Hand movement nearly always revealed intentions, even in the most disciplined combatants. A mere split-second warning could give him an advantage.
Almost there. C’mon, big boy. Come to Papa. Closer. Closer. Con tensed. There was no strap connecting the Uzi to the man’s body, a lucky break. The hulk reached the corner of the booth.
Batter up!
Gigantor saw him a heartbeat before Con stepped and swung. The man jerked the Uzi up, and Con slammed the weapon out of his hands. Home run! The Uzi sailed into the air and clattered across the floor. Con swung again, aiming for his opponent’s unprotected pelvis. Gigantor pivoted, crouched, and the bat thudded on Kevlar.
Gigantor took advantage of Con’s open position to ram his fist into Con’s gut. The breath burst from Con’s lungs and he reeled. The hulk spun into a roundhouse turn and kicked the bat loose. It too, clattered to the floor.
Great. Gigantor was also trained in martial arts.
A meaty fist rocketed toward his face, and Con feinted left. Attacking fast and low, he tackled Gigantor, head-butting his stomach. Using the man’s bulk and momentum against him, Con bulldozed him up and flipped him over his back. Being a giant had its disadvantages. Con had a much lower center of gravity, and it was harder for the big man to knock him off balance.
The guy hit the floor with a thud that rattled the rafters. Con lunged for the bat, four feet to his right. Steely fingers snagged his ankle, yanked him to the floor, facedown. He rolled onto his back, flexed his legs and used his feet as a battering ram. Both boots connected with Gigantor’s knee. Bone crunched and the big man grunted in pain. Con gave him tough-guy points. Most dudes screamed when you broke their kneecaps.
His opponent’s massive torso slammed across him, pinning him down, and Con again lost his breath. Gigantor sat on him, and his hands constricted Con’s windpipe. Black spots swirled in his vision and the world grayed at the edges. He wedged his forearms between the heavily muscled, strangling arms and tried to loosen the iron grip. When that failed, he used his thumbs to gouge Gigantor’s eyes. Bloodied, Gigantor let go. Gasping oxygen into his burning lungs, Con drove the heel of his hand into the man’s nose. Another grunt of pain, another gush of blood.
Gigantor reared back in reflex. Con bucked and hammered his knee into the hulk’s kidneys, and he collapsed like a pitching net in a windstorm. Con rolled, holding his opponent down. Gigantor wasn’t out for the count. His fist smashed into the side of Con’s head, and stars exploded in his line of sight. The hulk scissored his legs and twisted. Locked in a deadly embrace, the men rolled across the cold, wet marble, grappling for superior position.
Con threw punches, left, right. A few grazed the target, several landed on the Kevlar, bruising his knuckles. Punches flew toward him. His head snapped back, absorbing a nasty blow to the jaw. Ouch! That was gonna leave a mark.
Time to close up the ballpark. He shoved away from his opponent and maneuvered behind him. Crouching, he flung his arm around the man’s neck and wedged it in the crook of his elbow. Using his body as a lever against Gigantor’s weight, Con pulled back and squeezed, compressing the carotid artery.
Gigantor thrashed, and the battle went into extra innings. Bruising elbows pummeled Con’s ribs, but he hung on. The sleeper hold did its job. Gradually, the fight went out of the hulk. He went limp, and Con lowered the unconscious man to the floor.
Three strikes and you’re out, pal.
Panting, sweating, aching from multiple blows, and soaked from rolling on the wet floor, he crawled to the Uzi and scooped it up.
He pushed to his feet and staggered to Bailey. Pale and shaking, she huddled on the floor at the corner of the booth.
He reached to help her up, and she flinched away. “Don’t.”
What the hell? “Don’t be afraid. It’s me, baby.”
Her blue eyes regarded him warily. “I’ve never seen anything so brutal.”
He clenched his jaw, ignoring the twinge of pain. “I did what I had to do.”
She swallowed hard. “You gouged that man’s eyes. You broke his kneecap. And his nose.”
“Those