Brionn's Day: Part Two by Alpesco Brionn gets mad. There were two patrol cars. Brionn and I were bundled into the back of the first, arms handcuffed behind us, and the car doors were locked. It looked as if we were in big trouble. There were two junior officers in the car that held us. The sergeant and his deputy followed in the car behind. "You two are sure gonna be sorry you did what you did." the patrolman in the front passenger seat said. "If you're going to beat up on anybody and wreck their bar and their automobile, I sure as hell wouldn't pick the sarge's brother! I do believe the sergeant is planning on taking the two of you apart." "We're not going to the station?" I asked, "..to be charged?" "Station?" the first patrolman laughed. "I don't think the sergeant wants this story spreading about no courtroom, or leading off on the seven o'clock news. We're just going somewhere nice and quiet where we won't be disturbed. If I was you I'd start saying a few prayers about now." Beside me, Brionn was silent. Her face was set. Six foot one, and with dark blonde hair, she had looks that a fashion model might envy. She did not look capable of the deeds the patrolman had spoken of. Yet I now knew how cussed awkward and dangerous she was. I was an inch taller than her and at least 40lbs heavier, but I wouldn't mess with her - especially when she was seething with anger - as she was now. Her halter top and brief skirt did little to hide her narrow waist and washboard stomach. Her long long limbs and broadening shoulders did not at first seem that powerful - but looks could be deceptive. Slowly, she drew up her sun-bronzed legs beside me, intent on finding a means of escaping from the cuffs that held her prisoner. At first I thought it a waste of effort. But she persisted, trying to work her bound wrists forward and free, beneath her body and legs - and stretching her long arms while crunching up her body, she began to do it! She was so flexible that she was able to force her whole body through the gap between her wrist-bound arms, and draw her freed but still handcuffed arms up in front of her! So far neither of the patrolmen in front had noticed anything amiss. Now she braced her sandalled feet against the back of the double front seat, and tensed her long, athletic legs. Lithe muscles rippled along their length. Like all the rest, the muscles of her legs did not really display until she exerted them. Now, however, they blazed into life as Brionn suddenly applied all of their pent-up power to the task of pressing the long front seat forward. I didn't think she had a chance. The seat was riveted to the car floor and had two heavy patrolmen weighing it down. Yet the muscles in her doubled-over legs swelled and striated, their true power evident now as the exertion of pouring hundreds of pounds of pressure on to the rigid seat showed clearly on her face. But she persisted. I heard the first twangs and screams of tortured metal as, gritting her teeth, Brionn increased the remorseless pressure. "Hey! What are you doing?" One of the patrolmen turned back, at last alerted to what was happening. In that instant, Brionn poured on the last hundred pounds or so of pressure - and with a tearing, screaming wrench, the double front seat tore itself free of its tortured bolts to crash devastatingly forward into the dashboard. Propelled by the full force of Brionn's long, powerful legs, it smashed itself and its occupants into the rigid front bodywork of the car. I gasped in shock as both of the men in the front seat were slammed savagely into the dashboard and steering-wheel. The front passenger's upper body was driven straight through the windshield and out onto the hood. There were dull moans of pain as the patrolcar slewed to a halt just off the dirt road. Brionn's long arms stretched forward over the wreckage to detach the handcuff keys from the belt of the nearest patrolman. With a quick twisting maneuver of her limber wrists, she was free. She dropped the key for me, before squeezing her way out through the front door. Not being as lithe or flexible as Brionn, however, my hands were still securely bound behind my back and there was little I could do to join her. I maneuvered myself to the locked rear door just in time to see the following patrol car screech to a halt alongside Brionn. The two escorting policemen leapt out. Nearest to Brionn was the deputy. He had to be at least 5'10" tall and must have weighed two hundred pounds. Yet even he was dwarfed by the patrol sergeant who emerged from the far side of the vehicle. He must be 6'5" and a good three hundred pounds. "Lie face-down on the ground!" he shouted. Brionn shook her head. "I said, get down on your belly!" The deputy strode toward her. Brionn simply stood where she was until he was almost upon her. Her eyes narrowed. Then, without warning, she sent her long right arm hurtling forward to drive a blistering roundhouse punch straight into the side of the patrolman's jaw. There was a loud crack as the deputy spun through 180 degrees to crash heavily into the patrol car behind him. I gasped again at the sheer power of this tall young woman's blow. The two hundred pound man slammed into the vehicle so hard that the impact made his body buckle, and sent him staggering forward once more. His jaw now hung loose at a crazy angle. Stepping purposefully forward, Brionn sent a devastating left ploughing into his chest, followed by a final, terrifyingly fast right to the head. It was almost unbelievable the amount of raw power her so- long arms could generate. Within the space of ten seconds it was all over, the patrolman slumping first to his knees, then senseless to the stony ground. Brushing a loose hank of hair away from her face, Brionn turned to face the open-mouthed sergeant. "I'm giving you your final chance," she said. "Just turn round now, and I'll let you walk away." "Walk away?" The huge man snorted in disbelief. "You may have got in a lucky punch with Davy-boy there, but I'm gonna tear you apart!" I looked across in despair as the sergeant strode towards her. There was no way that any woman was going to beat this six and a half foot giant unaided, and I could do nothing to help. But now Brionn again did the unexpected. She fell into a perfect sideways roll that took her suddenly to the patrolman's right. Rising to her feet in the same smooth motion, she kicked out sharply with her long leg to drive her left heel fiercely into the side of his knee. He gave a yelp of pain as the damaging blow struck home, crouching instinctively to feel the damaged joint. "Big talker, aren't you?" Brionn taunted. "When are you going to tear me apart - now, or after I've beaten the crap out of you?" Despite himself, the sergeant lurched angrily forward, to be halted at once by a second brutal kick, delivered straight into the middle of his stomach. I winced, knowing just how powerful Brionn's long, muscular legs could be. I had seen the terrible damage they had done to her ex- boss's seedy diner, and to his flashy sportscar. The huge patrolman reeled backward with a bellow of pain, gasping sharply for air. "Had enough yet?" Brionn sneered, trying to goad him forward. But the sergeant was no fool. He knew now that, despite her looks. this young woman was dangerous, and he hesitated. Brionn now edged forward, her right fist poised at eye level. The patrolman swung a punch, but she was too quick for him, swaying deftly back to avoid it, then coming back with a lightning-fast jab from her right, which struck home at the base of his nose. A stream of blood splashed down his face as she darted backward to avoid another swinging haymaker. Now she sent more fast painful jabs slamming into her opponent's head and face. Taking full advantage of her superior speed and the full length of her powerful arms, she began to inflict mounting damage. Soon she was hitting the burly patrolman at will, her stinging jabs blacking an eye, cutting a lip, breaking a nose. So expert was she at this method of attack that not one of his increasingly desperate counter swings got within six inches of her. Goaded beyond enduring, he launched a roaring, fist swinging charge at his tormentor, but Brionn stepped easily out of his way, turning to unleash a third powerful kick into his side. Now, at last, she altered her tactics. Coming in close for the first time, she began to rake huge, straight-armed punches into her towering opponent. Her earlier jabs had been damaging, but they had held nothing like this immense power. The first blow, a solid right to the head, rocked him backward uncontrollably. Next came a shuddering left to the body with all the power of her densely muscled arm and shoulder behind it, then another bone-jarring right. This blow landed just beneath the ribcage, producing a piteous moan of pain. The sergeant had already taken more blows than had been needed to fell his two hundred pound deputy, but still he stood, trying to outlast the barrage, waiting for Brionn to tire and his turn to come. But Brionn did not weaken, in fact her blows seemed to be gaining in strength as her concentration grew. She followed through with a powerful left to the side of the head, its fierce impact echoing across the hot sands as it closed his right eye and drew a torrent of blood from a gash an inch or so above it. Next came a searing right into the ribs which brought the unmistakable crack of bone, along with the deepest groan yet from her opponent. His heavy arms moved blindly, vainly trying to ward off the shattering blows. I marvelled at this young woman's awesome prowess. She was breaking even this huge patrolman. Again she hit him, and again, each blow delivered with all her appalling power. His capacity to counter was gone, his face was almost unrecognisable, the only question left was how much more of this terrible punishment he could take. A thunderous blow to the breastbone produced a high-pitched moan of pain, even as a final crashing right ploughed into the sergeant's jaw. At last he stumbled to his knees. Brionn stood over him, breathing hard, her powerful fists still tightly clenched at her sides. Apart from a small cut on one of her knuckles, she was unhurt. "Do you give up?" she demanded. He made an inaudible grunt. "I can't hear you." "Yes!" the voice almost sobbed. "Good," Brionn relaxed a little. "Now give me your gun and your radio. I'll send for help for for you and your men once we're gone." With shaking hands, he obeyed. "Now give me your car keys," she said. "I can't do that... Look. You'll never get away with this.." Brionn just frowned, and his words stumbled to a halt. "All right," he said. "I'll do it. Just don't hit me again - please. I think you bust about eight of my ribs." "No less than you were planning to do to us," she replied. "Now that's not a good and lawful way to act, is it?" "No, ma'am." His voice quivered. "Right. So if you and your men are still in any sort of uniform in six months time, I'm going to be calling on you again. Do you understand me?" He nodded. She turned away. Within minutes she had me out of my cuffs, and I was in the sergeant's patrol car beside her, on our way out of the state. Brionn was an okay girl. I wish I could have travelled with her longer. If you did her no harm, she did none to you, but you had to play by her rules. As for the cops, all four of them were badly injured - it took months before they were back to anything like normal I'm told. Strangely enough all four retired from the force that year. They all blamed it on the real bad traffic accident they'd had that day on the desert road.