Cause to Run

Desoto began to speak to his men in very quick and agitated Spanish. His little brother and another man seemed genuinely annoyed that they would be accused of something so clearly beneath them. The other three, however, turned sheepish under the interrogation. An argument ensued. At one point, Desoto stood up in anger and displayed his full height and size.

“These three have been to the shop,” Ramirez whispered. “They robbed it twice. Desoto is pissed because this is the first time he’s hearing about it, and he never got his cut.”

With a loud roar, Desoto hammered his fist onto the table and cracked it in half. Bills and change and jewelry went flying. A necklace nearly whipped into Avery’s face and she was forced to stand back against the door. All five men pushed away in their chairs. Desoto’s little brother yelled out in frustration and raised his arms. Desoto kept his fury squarely placed on one man in particular. A finger was pointed in the man’s face, and a threat was given and received.

“That guy took the others to the shop,” Ramirez whispered. “He’s in trouble.”

Desoto turned with his arms wide.

“I apologize,” he said. “My men did indeed accost this woman in her shop. Twice. This is the first I’ve ever heard of it.”

Avery’s heart was beating fast. They were in an isolated room full of angry criminals with weapons, and regardless of Desoto’s words and gestures, he was an intimidating presence, and, if the rumors were true, a mass murderer. Suddenly, the feel of her small blade so far out of reach wasn’t as comforting as she’d thought.

“Thanks for that,” Avery said. “Just to be sure we’re on the same page, would any of your men have any reason to kill Henrietta Venemeer?”

“No one kills without my approval,” he flatly stated.

“Venemeer was strangely placed on the ship,” Avery pushed. “In full view of the harbor. A star was drawn above her head. Would that mean anything to you?”

“Do you remember my cousin?” Desoto asked. “Michael Cruz? Little guy? Skinny?”

“I don’t.”

“You broke his arm. I asked him how a little girl could have bested him, and he said that you were very fast, and very strong. Do you think you could take me, Officer Black?”

The downward spiral began.

Avery could feel it. Desoto was bored. He’d answered their questions and he was bored and angry and he had two unarmed cops in his private room beneath a shop. Even the men who’d been playing poker were fully locked onto both of them.

“No,” she said. “I think you could murder me in hand-to-hand combat.”

“I believe in an eye for an eye,” Desoto said. “I believe when information is given, information should be received. Balance,” he stressed, “is very important in life. I have given you information. You arrested my cousin. You have now taken from me twice. You see this, yes?” he asked. “You owe me something.”

Avery backed up and assumed her traditional jujitsu stance, legs bent and slightly parted, arms up and hands open under her chin.

“What do I owe you?” she asked.

With only a grunt, Desoto jumped forward, cocked his right arm, and punched.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The room emptied in Avery’s mind; it turned black, and all she could see were the five men, and feel Ramirez next to her, and see Desoto’s fist moving closer to her face. She called it thefog, a place where she’d often been during her running days – another world, separate from her physical existence. Her jujitsu instructor had called it “the ultimate awareness,” a place where focus became selective, so the senses were more heightened around specific targets.

She spun into Desoto’s arm and gripped his wrist. At the same time, her hip popped back into his body for leverage, and she used his own momentum to throw him into the basement door. Wood cracked and the giant man crashed hard.

Without breaking her stride, Avery spun and kicked an attacker in the stomach. After that, everything moved in slow motion. Each of the five men was targeted for maximum damage with minimal aggression. A jab to the throat made one fall to the ground. A kick to the groin followed by a hard back-spin and another man crashed on the broken table. She lost Desoto’s little brother for a second. She turned to see him about to punch her with a pair of brass knuckles; Ramirez jumped in and tackled him to the ground.

Desoto roared and grabbed Avery in a bear hug from behind.

The massive weight of his body was like a cement block. Avery couldn’t break his hold. She kicked at the air. He lifted her up and threw her into a wall.

Avery slammed into a shelving system and the entire unit fell on her head when she dropped to the ground. Desoto kicked her in the stomach; the blow was so powerful it lifted her up. Another kick and her neck snapped back. Desoto lowered down. Thick arms clutched her neck in a dangerous choke. A quick lift and she was up – feet dangling.

“I could snap your neck,” he whispered, “like a twig.”

Groggy.

Her mind was groggy from the blows. Air was hard to take in.

Focus, she commanded. Or you’re dead.

She tried to flip over his body, or break the hold with his arms. An iron grip held her fast. Something slammed into Desoto’s back. He lowered Avery’s feet to the ground and looked behind him to see Ramirez with a chair.

“That didn’t hurt you?” Ramirez asked.

Desoto growled.

Avery collected herself, lifted her foot, and stomped her heel into his toes.

“Ah!” Desoto howled.

He wore a white button-down T-shirt, tan shorts, and flip-flops; Avery’s heel had cracked two bones. Instinctively, he let go, and by the time he was ready to grip her again, Avery was in stance. One quick punch to his throat was followed by a jab to his solar plexus.

An iron bat was on the ground.

She picked it up and swatted him in the head.

Desoto instantly went limp.

Two of his men were already down, including the little brother. A third – who’d been watching her battle with Desoto – widened his eyes in surprise. He drew his gun. Avery swatted his hand with the bat, spun with the momentum, and clocked him in the face. He crashed into a wall unit.

The last two men had overtaken Ramirez.

Avery swung the bat into the back of one man’s knees. He flipped up. She brought the steel down on his chest and kicked him hard in the face. The other man punched her in the jaw and followed with a screaming tackle onto the poker table.

They crashed down together.

The man was on top and rained down blows. Avery finally caught a wrist and rolled. He fell off and she was able to spin and trap his arm in a submission hold. Avery lay perpendicular to his body. Her legs were over his belly and his arm was straight and hyper-extended.

“Let go! Let go!” he cried out.

She lifted a leg and kicked him in the face until he passed out.

“Fuck you!” she yelled.

The room was silent. All five men, including Desoto, were out cold.

Ramirez groaned and got to his hands and knees.