Who's in Charge 2
by Alpesco
Brionn takes on the rebels.


Continued from Part 1....

We knocked on the door. Evans, the security guard appeared, and went off with
our message, reappearing 15 minutes later to unlock the door to our cramped
quarters. "Miss Landeck says to bring you to the gym."

The four of us looked at each other. The gym would be ideal for what we had in
mind.

Evans took us along the corridor and downstairs through the entrance hall to
the mansion's large pool and gym. The room was large, with a fifty foot
covered pool on one side, and a whole mess of state of the art gym equipment,
punchbags, and other stuff on the other.

Brionn Landeck was at the far side of the gym. The tall nineteen-year-old
blonde was no longer in her working garb as assistant to the Director of this
facility. She was dressed for a workout, in tight shorts and a cut-away top,
both in lycra. The short top exposed a chiselled washboard of abdominal
muscles. She was punching an eighty pound punchbag with her bare fists, and
landing some pretty big blows. We could see the bag rock backward each time
she hit it, swinging wildly on its chain. The deep thuds as her fists impacted
sounded extremely loud even from where we stood, at the doorway, thirty feet
away.

"Hey Evans, come and hold the bag steady, will you?" She beckoned to the
security guard.

"Are you sure?" he said wearily. "I don't think I've fully recovered from last
time."

"I hope you're not telling me that you're not fit enough for this job?" the
girl looked across at him.

"No, no!" Evans shook his head briskly. "I was just joking. I'll do just as
you say." He ran up and stood behind the punchbag, bracing himself behind it
as Brionn threw in a first flurry of blows.

To my surprise I could see that it was all the 200 pound man could do to hold
the heavy bag in position as Brionn's punches grew steadily fiercer and
harder.

Crum, Crumm, Crumm, Crummm, Crrummm, Crruummm, Cruummppp! The heavy punches
grew solidly in force as the girl increased her concentration, her long arms
driving blocky, angular fists deep into the leather. The force she was
generating was truly impressive. I found it hard to believe a girl so slim
could produce such sustained power. Evans was grunting with the effort as he
struggled to hold the bag in place, bracing all of his weight against it as
the girl's fierce blows crashed home.

Brionn stepped back from the bag. "Okay?" she asked.

Evans seemed winded. He nodded, but did not speak as he gasped for breath. I
could see he was starting to sweat.

"Right," Brionn said. "I'm going to put in eight bigger ones now. These'll be
pretty hard, so brace yourself."

"Right now?" Evans gasped.

"When else?" The young woman turned, and immediately delivered the first of
her promised eight punches. I drew a sharp breath as the first big blow
crashed into the bag. That was one heavy punch. The deep crump of the blow
echoed violently around the chamber, accompanied by a deep grunt from Evans.
The heavy bag bowed and distorted as the massive punch plowed into it. And
that punch was immediately followed by more, every bit as heavy.

Evans groaned more and more loudly as each new punch drove in. He fought to
hold the swinging bag in place, but it was clearly an increasingly difficult
task. The noise of the young woman's punches was growing steadily louder and
fiercer. It was a deep, violent booming now, that echoed powerfully round the
room.

I knew that the heavy bag was made of leather a quarter inch thick, and filled
with eighty pounds of sand. But as the girl's big punches tore into it, the
bag began to seem as if it was made of silk stuffed with feathers. Each of
Brionn's huge punches drove deeper into the leather, distorting it more and
more. I could see that even through the dense punchbag, the blows were
starting to cause the security guard pain. And still the young woman's punches
grew in power; the fourth, fifth and sixth each forced the gasping Evans to
stagger drunkenly backward.

"Hold the bag steady!" the nineteen-year-old snapped as her right arm sent
blow seven crumping into the leather like a mortar shell.

"Oooouuuuggghhhh!" Evans bellowed as this latest blow struck. The huge bag
seemed nearly to flatten as Brionn's heavy fist tore into it. The bag was
jolted into his body by the incredible power of that single roundhouse blow.
In spite of all his efforts, the security guard was driven a full four paces
backward behind the tortured bag. But even this enforced retreat was not
enough to save him from Brionn's eighth punch of the sequence.

Krrrooooommm! There was an explosion of sound as her blocky fist buried itself
deep in the leather. The bag surged powerfully backward. Evans lost his
footing, clinging to the bag and groaning as all the air was driven from his
body. Losing his footing as the bag continued to hurtle backward, he fell
backward to the ground.

"You'll have to work out more." The tall young woman looked down at him as she
steadied the returning punchbag. "I expect anyone employed in security to be
able to take a few good shots." She windmilled her long arms to circulate
blood to the muscles. "My arms have a good pump now. I want you to get up and
secure the bag while I go for eight more."

"Eight more?" The two hundred pound man was still gasping for breath as he
clambered painfully back to his feet.

"Come on!" Brionn danced backward, still not even breaking a sweat - unlike
the heavy-breathing Evans.

Resignedly, Evans braced himself against the bag.

"This kid can really hit hard," I whispered to Ryan.

"That's why the bitch is doing this now," the tall man whispered back. "To try
to intimidate us! But all she's doing is weakening herself."

Anything else he had to say was drowned out in a crescendo of noise as
Brionn's fists tore into the dark leather once more. Evans's groans were
deeper now, and clearly tinged with pain. He looked weaker too, staggering two
steps backward with each new blow to the punchbag. And astonishingly, rather
than tiring, the girl seemed to be hitting even harder than before. The
jarring crump of her blows was louder than ever now, it must surely be audible
all through the house. And the heavy bag was jolting and swinging wildly with
each new punch she tore into it.

Her first three blows produced deep groans from Evans as he fought to hold the
bag in place. Blows four, five and six, drove both him and the bag heavily
back in a crescendo of noise. The deep crash of the young woman's blows was
deafening now, echoing and re-echoing back from the walls. Brionn's seventh
blow hurled Evans to the floor once more, the bag swinging out six feet or
more over the security man's prostrate body. It halted its backswing, then
swung forward once more, straight into Brionn's speeding right.

The explosion of sound was ear-splitting as the eighty-pound bag was brought
to a sudden halt by the girl's solid fist, bending around it like a satin
pillow, before being hurled violently backward once more. It hurtled several
feet into the air as sand began to pour from a deep tear in its side. The girl
stepped forward to stop the bag swinging, then turned to help the gasping
Evans back to his feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Evans could not answer for a minute, so heavily was he gasping for breath.
"I'm alright," he wheezed at last. His face was red as a lobster, and rivers
of sweat were running down his face.

"You really need to get in better shape," Brionn said. "I want you to do a
forty minute work-out in here at least three days each week."

"I can use these facilities?" Evans had still not fully recovered his breath
as he cradled a bruised stomach.

"Before 8am," Brionn said. "But that doesn't include use of the pool.

"Why not the pool?"

"Because those are my orders," Brionn said, turning to face the four of us in
the doorway. "Now go and get a shower."

"Are you okay alone with these men?" He pointed toward us.

"I'm sure I'll be quite safe," she nodded. She flexed her arm. Again I gasped
at the huge bicep that suddenly sprang up there. You could lose her clenched
fist in the dense oval mass of that solid muscle, and her fist wasn't small.
The swelling and hardening bicep was bigger than the lower part of her face.
She was breathtakingly slender, but she had such long and powerful arms.

"Well?" She walked toward us. "I hear you've agreed to return to work." She
looked up at the clock on the wall. "You've taken five hours to make up your
minds, so you'll have ten additional hours to make up out of your own time..."

"We're not prisoners, you know," Giorgiu said.

"You're here by Court Order," Brionn said, "and you're here to work. While Mr
Eppston is away I'm in charge, and I won't have the work schedule go down
while I'm in control here."

"So you want us to stay confined to our quarters?" I asked.

"Those are the rules," she said. "I'm not changing them now."

"But look," I said. "There's all these facilities here not being used. The
pool, the gym, the recreational facilities. We could use some cigarettes, some
phone calls out, perhaps a beer. Couldn't you ease things up a little while
we're cut off?"

"No." Brionn said. "The other workgroup is getting no extra privileges - and
neither are you."

"Okay, that's it." Ryan said. That was the signal. All four of us rushed the
kid, aiming to overpower her in one combined assault, neutralising her speed
and her martial arts skills. Paulus and Giorgiu went for her legs. Ryan took
one arm and I took the other. We were to get her down tie her up, release the
others, and take over.

But in that first couple of seconds it all started to go wrong. Our victory
depended on swiftly containing all Brionn's limbs at once. The girl, however,
probably suspected something like this might happen. And although Paulus and
Giorgio caught hold of her legs, and I grabbed her left arm, Ryan was not
quite quick enough to catch her right.

The long arm pulled back out of the way of Ryan's graspng hands, then drove
forward in a scything punch deep into the base of the five-foot-ten man's
ribcage. I heard the punch drive home. The sound was like a thirty pound lump
hammer falling forty feet into a sack of plaster. And this was joined by a
deep, groaning whoosh, as most of the air was driven from Ryan's body.

I saw Ryan double over in pain as the sheer force of the blow sent him
staggering four yards backward into the pool. That left only three of us still
holding Brionn, and worse still, one of her arms was free. Our intention had
been to quickly get her on the ground, but neither the six-foot Paulus or the
220 pound Giorgiu could budge either of the girl's legs by so much as a
fraction of an inch. The girl's legs were bronzed columns of rock-hard muscle,
which the men discovered they had as much chance of moving as they had of
bending the marble columns in the hallway.

"Lift her up!" Paulus shouted. But too late. Brionn's free hand was already
poised above the crouching Giorgiu who was still struggling to move her right
leg. I saw her arm spear downward, twice. And with a sharp howl, the large man
abruptly released her and scuttled backward, holding on to his left shoulder
and groaning in pain.

Suddenly there was an appalling explosion of pain in the side of my face. It
was shocking in its intensity. I thought for a moment my skull had cracked
open, the pain and disorientation were so great. I staggered backward,
releasing the girl's left arm, wondering what had hit me.

At first I thought that Evans must have returned and hit me with an iron bar.
But looking round I could see no-one in the room who could have hit me but
Brionn. And all she had had to hit me with was that big square fist of hers. I
still couldn't believe that one punch could cause so much pain. Her fist must
be stone-hard. My head was still ringing. The room swam, and I found I had to
fight to stay on my feet.

With both her arms now free, the tall nineteen-year-old had bent down and used
them to circle the crouching Paulus's waist from behind. Now she straightened,
lifting Paulus body up with her, to hang upside-down from her linked arms. She
turned to the right, then just let him go, to crash, shoulders-first, onto the
tiled floor. Despite my own pain, I winced as Paulus hit the concrete. He
landed with a heavy crash and a loud groan of pain, lying flat where he had
been dropped like a large sack of potatoes.

"You bitch!" Ryan yelled. He had at last managed to drag himself out of the
pool, and now charged at her in fury.

Brionn turned to face him, but looked totally unperturbed. Only when he got
within two feet of her, did she lithely step aside, stretching out her right
arm to catch the charging figure about the waist. With a slight grunt of
effort, she raised her arm, lifting him right off his feet, momentarily taking
his entire bodyweight across her forearm. Straightening, she flipped his whole
body up and over her arm in a somersault, leaving him to fall five feet on his
back to the hard, cold, tiles. It happened so fast that I hadn't time to
consider how much strength it must have taken to pivot his entire 180 pound
body over her long, outstretched arm. I just saw the shuddering crash as he
hit the floor.

By now Giorgiu had recovered, and he too was advancing on her, but she seemed
to sense his approach, turning at once to drive two powerful punches straight
into the middle of his face. The speed and force of the punches took Giorgiu
totally by surprise, and the big man stumbled backward, blood pouring from his
nose.

Without pausing, she turned to send three lightning-fast punches into the face
and body of the rising Paulus. All three hit home in the space of a heartbeat,
powered by her long arms. Crak! Crak! Crak! It was over in a second. But the
damage was done. The taller man's groans ran together into one as he fell
painfully back to the floor.

The bleeding Giorgiu had steadied himself, and now raced toward her, roaring
with fury. I marvelled at the ease and grace with which the six-foot girl
simply moved her body aside to avoid his swinging punch.

"Poor shot." she added, as her fist drew back.

It uncoiled a millisecond later, with the first of three more punches, and
these were unleashed with far greater power than she had used before. Each of
these new blows produced a deep, crumping impact and a loud moan of pain. It
was not a pleasant sound. You could hear the damage those big blows were
doing. The bleeding Georgiu crashed back into the near wall as the enormous
blows tore into his chest.

After the third blow, Brionn stepped back a pace to admire her handiwork. I
was shocked to see that the two hundred and twenty pound man was barely able
to stand. He was clearly only able to remain on his feet because he was
propped against the wall. How hard could this girl hit?

She turned back to face the furious Ryan, as the tall 30-year-old struggled
back to his feet. With clinical efficiency, she fired three straight-arm jabs
straight into his face. These punches were eye-blink swift, and didn't look
that heavy.

But again the power of the young woman's blows was surprising. Ryan's upper
body crashed heavily backward into the door to the library, his head thrown
heavily into the wood by the force of the impact. I saw that his left eye was
shutting fast, his cheekbone seemed broken, and he was bleeding badly. All
from just three fast jabs.

Before he could recover, two more punches drove in to his body. These seemed
more powerful, buckling his body and drawing loud moans of pain. Clearly hurt,
Ryan tore open the library door, desperately pulling it in front of him as a
barrier between himself and Brionn's punishing fists.

His adversary's eyes narrowed as she drew back her arm. Then she sent another
of her straight-arm punches straight into the door. The blow hit the
cream-painted timber with a heavy crack, and it kept right on going! I gasped
as her fist drove into the inch-thick door with a fierce ripping and tearing
of timber. I could see the wood tear apart as her fist passed right through,
leaving a jagged hole.

A sharp cry of surprise and pain came from behind the door, even as Brionn
withdrew her arm through the jagged hole she had just made. She took a
half-step closer, then hit again, eight inches lower down. This time her blow
was even harder. Again the wood burst apart before her stone-hard fist,
tearing and screaming as her blow powered home. This time her arm went further
in, and there was a sharper cry of pain from Ryan, trapped between the door
and the wall. I gasped. The door was nearly in two pieces now, split along
most of its length.

Coolly, Brionn withdrew her arm, turned the handle and drew open the ruin of
the door to reveal a bloodied and doubled over Ryan. "Come out," she
commanded.

"Please don't hit me again," he pleaded, his voice shaking.

"Come out," she repeated, fists clenched. Nervously, Ryan stumbled out. I
could see that he was shaking with fear, terrified that Brionn's iron-hard
fists would drive into him again.

"Please..." he begged.

"You'll do exactly as I say." The girl wasn't asking. It was an order.

"Yes."

It was then that I grabbed her from behind, my arms circling hers, holding
them to her sides. "Hit her!" I yelled to Paulus, beside me. Paulus balled his
fists, but before he could get in a single punch, the girl's long leg lashed
out with astonishing force, crashing into the middle of his chest. Brionn's
muscular leg smashed him so hard into the near wall that his head cracked
against the concrete, and he slumped to the floor.

Now I was alone, fighting this angry young woman. I was five foot ten, and 180
pounds. I had my arms tightly linked round her waist, so I could surely hold
the girl. But what then? I wasn't sure.

She fought with surprising intensity to free herself. I could feel the
powerful muscles of her long arms straining against mine. I knew I daren't let
her get them free, I didn't want any of the big punches they could deliver
plowing into me. But it was a struggle just to hold those powerful arms. It
was an increasing effort to hold them in check. I was breathing harder, and
starting to sweat.

Suddenly she pushed her upper body backward, forcing us both to topple over
onto the floor. I landed hard on my back with her on top of me. The heavy
impact was shocking, knocking the wind out of me, and cracking my head against
the floor. But I did not loosen my grip.

And now Brionn drew up both her legs as she lay on top of me, planting her
feet on the floor on either side of my knees. She began to arch her back
upward, raising her hips as she supported all her weight, and some of mine, on
her feet and shoulders. Slowly I began to be hoisted off the floor as she
continued to arch her back higher and higher! I didn't know what she was
trying to do, or how this might help her, but I continued to keep tight hold
on her arms.

That was when I felt my whole body being lifted upward! Incredibly, she now
began to raise her shoulders off the floor, taking her whole bodyweight and
mine, on her braced legs as she straightened her arched back. She was so
strong! She had to have legs and a stomach of steel to attempt this! I could
hardly believe it. My whole bodyweight was being carried up with her, as she
stretched her slim body upright, powered by her steely thighs. I clung on
tightly as she pulled both of us up to vertical. It was an astonishing feat of
sheer, brute strength. But what had it gained her?

Then I discovered. Without any warning at all, she pushed us both backward
again. And I crashed back to the floor with her on top of me. My head cracked
painfully onto the tiled floor. I felt dizzy, and a sharp pain ran up my back.
Even so, I still managed to retain my grip about her arms. Then, unbelievably,
she planted her feet on each side of my knees once more, and began to pull
herself back up to a standing position! I couldn't believe it - nor could I
resist. My weight was inexorably pulled back up to vertical by the immense
strength of her long, tanned legs, and her muscular torso. The instant we were
upright, she smashed us both back down again.

"Again?" she asked, when I still refused to release her arms, despite the pain
that was now coursing through my whole body. I couldn't believe that she had
the strength required to perform that incredible maneuver a third time. But
she had! For a third time in succession I felt her power as she arched her
back, then lifted both of our weights right up off the floor. This time I
weakened as she took us both back to vertical again. In trying to avoid the
agonising slam to the concrete once more, I slackened my grip, and her arms
were free.

She had turned around before I could get out of the way. And her newly freed
arms struck like lightning bolts. A fireball of pain exploded in my right
cheek and upper jaw. A fraction of a second later, there was a flash of light
in a dozen different colours as another blow, even harder than the first,
crashed into the left side of my head. Everything went hazy, and I fell to my
knees.

My cheekbone was broken. There was a loose tooth somewhere inside my mouth and
I could feel blood running down my cheek. I could taste it. The second blow to
my skull had hurt really bad - a lot more than the first. It was still hurting
and I knew I was not fully aware, my vision swam, I felt light-headed, and I
was too giddy and disorientated to try to move. I couldn't seem to control my
own hands and legs in a co-ordinated manner.

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a slurred noise. I realised that
that second punch had disorientated me.

"That was some leg workout!" Brionn said, breathing gently. "Great for the abs
too. I'll have to try that again." I could see that her legs were pumped, and
ripped to shreds, every muscle clearly defined.

Brionn wiped back her hair with one hand. She turned to look at the four of
us. "Get up all of you and stand here."

We obeyed. We were beaten - all four of us. The nineteen-year-old was
completely in charge. She could impose any further punishment she wished.

"What you've just attempted was a serious breach of discipline," Brionn said.
"And I'm punishing you by withdrawing all your leisure facilities and placing
you in solitary confinement. You'll get treatment for your injuries, but they
won't stop the work here. Until I'm satisfied with progress you'll work one
and a half shifts each day."

"But you..." I fell into silence.

"Are you okay, Miss Landeck? I heard a lot of noise." A large man of about
fifty had come in from the hall. I recognised him as the janitor.

"No trouble, Mr O'Neal," Brionn said. "I've had a little disagreement with
some of the research staff, but I'm sure they'll behave themselves now."

The janitor nodded. "What about these guys? Are you going to put them in
sick-bay?"

"No." Brionn brushed a speck of dust from her shoulder. "In fact until the
security staff get back, they'll be kept in the solitary cells near the labs.
The nurse can see them there. Will you make the arrangements."

"Yes Miss Landeck" O'Neal nodded.

....To be continued.