To Reap the Lightning, Part II

By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

I'm Jane, one of Loretta's best friends. You remember Loretta; she was the bodyguard who single-handedly prevented the assassination of the district attorney's son and daughter. Her deed made her a household word for a while; now she's glad the craziness died down so she can live a normal life again.

To describe myself, I am an inch taller than Loretta, which makes me about 5'5", I have short black hair, a straight cut just below the ear. Though I am as American as apple pie, my ethnicity is oriental, or Asian-American. A cousin traced our family origin to the city of Kyoto in Japan. A nice city I'm told, maybe I'll visit it some day. To describe my figure, I've been told I'm barrel-shaped. Personally, I think I'm a little closer to a square, with broad shoulders, a muscular chest, thick hips, and thick, strong legs. You can laugh about my figure if you want to, but there are many men out there who love it, trust me. Anyway, I think I am the perfect shape for my first love, wrestling.

All right, get those thoughts out of your mind. I'm straight, and I'm not a bully or a sadist. It's a sport I've been involved in since junior high school, and followed all the way through college. I believe it's safe to say I'm good at it. When Loretta would show me the latest move she learned in her aikido and tai chi class, I'd show her the latest move or wrestling hold I learned. Now that I graduated college, I participate in a few wrestling clubs around town, plus I have been learning a form of Chinese "fast wrestling." More on that later.

After Loretta defeated that gang, she found out there was a reward on each one of the thugs she beat. This had made her pretty well off, almost wealthy. The first thing she did (after paying off her bills) was buy a large house on the outskirts of town. The house had several rooms, a number of bathrooms, a pool, and a large front and backyard, surrounded by woods. So why would a single woman with no kids, buy a big house in the middle of nowhere? She had two reasons.

The first reason was to provide herself with an oasis of sorts, to get away without getting away. You see, when she stopped those thugs, she did it at the cost of taking the lives of two of them, and crippling a third one. No telling what she was going to do to the fourth one, but some old lady restrained her just in time.

Whether you're a bodyguard, policeman, soldier, or just a plain person, the taking of a human life is not something you take lightly. The life of a bodyguard is not one of non-stop action like you see in the movies. Mainly, you just keep people from getting too close to the person you're guarding. The last thing Loretta expected was somebody trying to kill her client's son and daughter. She said she acted without thinking, other than the fact that those men were a threat, and they were armed.

Loretta took time off work, and sat and cried for a week. Then the reporters came, and she tried to avoid them. She only allowed one interview with a martial arts magazine; and then she had to go, which explained the purchase of the house.

The second reason was an even bigger surprise. After she moved in, she asked me and Aya, her best friends to move in and live with her. Let's see, live in an apartment with a small amount of room, a pool that's closed half the time and neighbors you're not crazy about, or live in a mansion with your best friends, and have the run of the place, rent free? Which would you choose?

As time went on, Loretta went back to work, guarding a different client, and we were fine, relishing the time when we got to retire to our "home in the country." Then one day, Aya came to talk to me after dinner. Aya was a Japanese-American like me, with long wavy black hair and a slender build. Well, slender but hard from a near-lifetime of practicing karate.

"Jane, that gang that Loretta dealt with, the Sharks, do you think there's any left?" Aya asked.

"I don't know, maybe there's a few. Why?" I said.

"I understand that they are rumored to never forget and never forgive."

I muted the television and turned to her. "So what are you saying, Aya?"

"Loretta killed two of them, crippled another one, and beat up the fourth with her bare hands. Well, bare feet too if you count that kick she crippled that man with. But don't you think they would take something like that personally?"

"Yeah, but they should know better by now than to mess with the Voodoo Queen (a nickname a fellow student at her dojo called her). Besides, our phone number is unlisted, and only a select few know where we are. We're not Fort Knox, but I don't think it would be that easy to break in here," I explained.

"Jane, you're missing the point. I'm not talking about the Sharks breaking in the house; I'm talking about the Sharks getting her. And even as good as she is, even Loretta can't take on an ambush."

I sat and thought about it for a moment. "Okay Aya, I see your point. So what do you want to do?"

Aya walked over to the window with her right index finger placed gently on her lips, a habit she did whenever she was in deep thought.

"Her current client is in town, and she just has to make sure the crazy ex-spouse and her boyfriend doesn't jump him. What we can do is follow her from a distance, just shadow her a little to make sure she's safe. We'll take turns, of course," Aya explained.

"And what do we do if we see a threat, yell "duck?' And how long do you want to do this?" I protested.

"Not long. Maybe a week or two," Aya said, "And we can use our cell phones to call the police, or even Loretta to tell her what's happening."

"So we shadow the bodyguard. All right, I'll do it, but let me say Aya, that this is one of the craziest ideas you came up with."

So here I am, in a park, hiding behind trees and bushes like an idiot. I could be arrested myself for looking like a stalker, or some voyeur who gets her jollies by watching. Not that there's anything to watch; Loretta's client was playing a game of late evening chess with a few other people sitting at tables. Loretta was standing by, watching the game. I like chess, I play a few games myself, but it's not the most exciting sight from my vantage point.

I volunteered to take my turn first, so I would get it out of the way. Aya had a habit of coming up with ideas that were unusual ' okay, that sounded nuts ' but made sense when you thought about them. When I thought about it, it made sense, but I didn't think it would happen.

I shifted my seat on the log I was sitting on. I was dressed in the worst outfit for spying on someone. I was wearing a white T-shirt with two blue stripes on each sleeve. Might as well be wearing a neon sign. Along with this, I wore royal blue gym shorts, and barefoot. The last thing was no big deal with me; the shoes were the first thing to go when I reached my car after work. In college, I unintentionally caused some controversy when I was the only wrestler on the team who refused to wear shoes. I complied and wore them, but I didn't see the big deal. I liked to feel the earth under my feet; okay, so I wanted to feel everything under my feet, but so what?

A minute later, things got interesting. The client's ex-wife, and her boyfriend, some German skier named Franz appeared, and disrupted his chess game. The poor guy looked like he was going to make a major move; now his concentration was shot. With a weary look on her face, Loretta got between them, and told them nicely to back off and go away.

While that was going on, I saw something else. I saw two men coming up from the other side of the park. There was a wooded path that stood between them and Loretta, her client, and the other chess players, so they weren't seen. I'm not an authority on gangs, but I know many street gangs wear "colors" or a type of uniform. The two men were wearing Shark colors. They could be just going for a walk, but I doubt it. Then again, it would be just a pure assumption that just because they're in the park the same time Loretta was, they're out for revenge. I found out later they always patrol the park, because it was part of their "turf."

Meanwhile, the ex-spouse was raising a racket loud enough to disturb everyone's game. Small wonder that guy divorced her; she's a raving psycho! Franz was standing around with a stupid grin on his face, and poor Loretta was blocking her path, trying to tell her nicely to go away. The crazy lady then turned on her, calling her a whole lot of names and accused her of everything from having a perverted sexual preference to sleeping with her client. Amazingly she kept her cool and maintained her temper. She'll probably be venting her frustrations when she got home that night, but I admired her calm.

The two Sharks heard the noise (how could they not?), and one of them pointed, recognizing Loretta. They moved a little closer to the site, which was also closer to me. That way, I was able to hear their conversation.

"That's her, let's get her!" The first guy said.

"We can't now, there are too many people," the second guy said.

"So what do we do?"

"We'll follow her around for a while, until she goes home, then we'll take care of her."

"Good idea."

Once again, Aya was right with those crazy hunches of hers. My job just became more complicated. At first, I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't jump these two men on the assumption they might do something. At the same time, I can't run to Loretta and tell her there are two thugs who were plotting to attack her. Besides, that would mean I would have to deal with that crazy woman over there. Knocking her out would probably be welcomed by everyone, but that would make matters even worse. Finally I thought, why not follow these guys who were going to be following her?

Spurred on by my new idea, I followed the two gang members as they walked off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Loretta was able to settle things without taking anyone out. Fortunately their car wasn't parked too far from mine. I reminded myself to check into how much gang-bangers earned; they had an awfully nice sports car. I was expecting some piece of junk that belched smoke.

I figured since Loretta was busy with her client as they took off and headed toward her client's house, she wouldn't notice anyone follow them, except for that nutcase of an ex-spouse. As far as these two thugs were concerned, I knew they didn't know anything about me. When you follow someone, generally nobody follows you, so I was fine.

What happened next was a whole lot of driving. I don't care what the movies and TV shows tell you, unless you're chasing bank robbers or have a couple of good CD's in your stereo, tailing somebody can be rather boring. I think the fact that Loretta killed their leader was the only thing that kept the two gang members going. Any other reason would've died from boredom. We went to Loretta's client's house, where Loretta picked up her car, and then we all drove to Loretta's or rather our house.

Before I go on, let me explain a few things about Loretta. She has a black belt in aikido and was very well versed in tai chi (the yang form, I believe), so she can definitely take care of herself, no question. But the reason she's called the "Voodoo Queen" was because she also knew the more "mystical" features of both arts. Really, they're not mystical, but to the untrained layman they seem that way. Loretta knew all the various nerve clusters, pressure points, and unsuspecting weak points of the human body. She can numb your arm with a touch, make you lose control of your bodily functions with a kick, or as done with one of the Sharks, stop your heart with a blow to the chest. She also knew all of aikido's parlor tricks like the unbendable arm, and staying rooted to the ground so firmly that two bodybuilders couldn't pick her up.

The Force is strong with that one, to quote a line from a movie.

What Aya was more concerned about were the gang members who were left taking care of her the old fashioned way, which was, shooting her from a distance via way of drive-by or some place where she couldn't touch them. Well as they parked their car further up the road, they now had an additional problem; they were at our house, and they weren't invited.

I parked my car a little further up the road in a wooded pathway, and trotted to where they were parked. Hiding behind a tree, I could hear what they were saying.

"Okay man, how do you want to do this?" The first man asked.

"I want her to see our faces before we do her," the second man replied. "Maybe enjoy the fruits of our labor before we end it."

"I like that, but we can't get too close to her, man."

"What do you mean?"

"You saw that clip on the net, man; she took out a few of us with one blow! She punched our main man in the chest, and he fell down dead! We'll need to hit her fast before she can do that ' whatever it is she does."

The other man looked into the yard. "I don't see any dogs, man. If we run and hide behind that bush, we can get her. You brought your piece?"

"Yeah, you?"

"I got my blade. Okay, let's wait a minute."

They, or rather we watched as Loretta got out of the car, took off her clogs, and walked towards the house. She prepared to hit the automatic door opener, and then she realized she left her purse in the car. She visibly let out a sigh and walked back to the car. On the pathway from the garage to the house, there was a blind spot; a drawback if you're expecting a siege, but normally no big deal. That, and her going back to get her purse would give these two thugs plenty of time to reach that bush.

Actually, unless they were going to shoot her on sight, this would be a bad time to attack her. It was easy to see she had a bad day. Meeting two thugs out to get her would be an excellent way of working her frustrations out at their expense, but not tonight. She's been through enough.

"All right," the first man said, "let's go!"

"I don't think so."

Both men turned to see me standing by their car, about five or six feet away from them. While the man who supposedly had a gun started fumbling in his trench coat trying to get it, the other man said, "Who are you?" in so many words, most of which I won't repeat.

"I'm Jane, I live here, and you two aren't going anywhere near Loretta," I said.

Both men were tall, close to six feet, and dressed in droopy blue jeans, white T-shirts, work boots, and those ridiculous ratty black trench coats that no one wears in warm weather if they have any sense; no matter how "cool" it looks. The both had long brown hair with a red bandanna wrapped around their foreheads. Their build was hard to determine because of the trench coats, but it's an educated guess from what my nose was telling me, these were skinny dudes whose biggest exercise was chain smoking and cruising the park every so often.

I've been well versed in the art of freestyle wrestling and its close sister, submission wrestling for many years. Once you take away the nonsense that so-called "professional wrestling" had added to it, wrestling is very versatile. It's a good form of exercise, giving you strength, flexibility, and a healthy cardiovascular system. And it is also a good form of self-defense. Oh, it doesn't have the fancy moves like karate and kung fu, but it does the trick. Trust me, I know from experience. I once took a class called Wrestling for Self-Defense, and I returned home, realizing I already knew this stuff.

The type of wrestling I've been learning was called Kuai Chiao or "fast wrestling." It's rumored to be one of the oldest martial arts if not the oldest. The idea behind the art is to engage your opponent and throw them to the ground, hard. This art was developed in war where you didn't have time to deal with your opponent, and you needed to take him down quickly, without fighting him on the ground. The motto with this art is "The Ground Never Misses," and if you perform the moves correctly, one good throw or takedown could injure or even kill your enemy; or at the very least, stun them long enough to finish them off with your sword or get away. This type of wrestling is also designed to take on multiple opponents, which should come in handy right now.

The first man pulled out his gun, but by the time that he did, I already had his gun arm locked as I threw him down on his back. The gun went bouncing into the street.

Again going on what they see on TV and movies, people don't realize how a throw can be as devastating as a knockout punch. Once a person loses their balance, with the help of gravity, they'll be stunned. When you add speed, momentum, and the person's height and body weight, the results can be devastating. Judging from how hard I threw him to the ground, the first man was being a little slow in getting up. For a finishing move, I was going to deliver a stomp to the ribs, but I didn't have time.

The second man made a stabbing lunge at me, but I sidestepped it. He appeared to be somewhat of an expert at knife fighting as he moved his blade in a circular motion. We seemed to have reached a stalemate; I couldn't get close to him without being cut or stabbed, while he wouldn't get close to me lest I slam him like I did his friend. As we circled each other, he decided to talk to me.

"After I gut you, I'm going to go in your house and gut your friend," he said.

"You might get me, but you're not going to get anywhere near her," I replied.

"I knew a sixteen-year-old who told me that same thing about her older sister. I gave them both big smiles so they could show all their teeth."

He went on to say how he "decorated" both their backs and fronts like their skin was a canvas for his work. He told me about his other "works of art" that he performed on both men and women. Then he said what he wanted to do to me.

"I could carve a masterpiece on you, but I know your type," he continued. "You would rather die than be one of my fine works. Fine with me. I'll just cut you up. I'm saving my best work for your little girlfriend in the house; my little present for taking out two of our boys."

Part of that talk was supposed to rattle me. I also know full well that either of my friends could take him. But as I look at his eyes, I can see he's telling the truth. This has become one of those hypothetical situations where it is either him or me. You always hear other people talk about it happening to them. I had a decision to make. Suddenly it wasn't just my friends I thought about, it was also all the people he already carved up and those who were on his waiting list. Not much of a choice at all, really.

"My friend took care of your group, and half of them carried guns," I told him. He became a little agitated and called me some names. Then I stumbled ' intentionally.

The stutter-step was to get him to strike early, which he did. I parried his knife hand (right hand) with my right hand to my left side where my left hand grabbed the wrist. Continuing to use his weight and momentum, I scooped him onto my shoulders in a variation of a fireman's carry. I rose up my shoulders to throw him off, and he hit the ground head first. I didn't disarm him of his knife, but it didn't matter anymore. The whole thing took seconds, but to me, it seemed like an eternity.

The first man had got up painfully just long enough to see me finish off his friend. We then traded looks just long enough for him to realize what I was going to do. He whipped his head left and right, and scrambled toward his gun in the street. From the way he half-crawled, half-walked, I could see my throw had damaged his back some. He wasn't moving very fast, so I walked up alongside him and stomped my right foot on the middle of his back. From the way he cried out and coughed, I may have done some damage to a rib or two as well. I descended on him and locked up his left arm while I put my right arm around his neck in a chokehold. I decided to have a few words with him.

"Did you really think I would let you get away after you saw what I did to your friend?" I whispered in his ear.

His breath was a little ragged as he replied, "Let me go, I won't tell anybody, I swear!"

"You tried to kill one of my best friends; and though she could easily mop up the floor with you, I'm not going to let that pass."

"Just let me go, I won't bother her no more," he pleaded.

"I know you won't," I replied. "I'm giving you the same "mercy' you would've given her or given me. Make peace with God, because you're seeing him soon."

He tried to say something else, but I tightened the pressure on my chokehold, making his words a gurgle. My choke would've taken him out in about a minute or so, but I wanted to use something else that would be more agonizing. I took my legs and wrapped them around his chest. And then I squeezed tightly. It looked like I did bust one rib when I threw him, so I squeezed hard until I broke another one. As I expected, he started squirming around, trying to break free, and worsening his internal injuries. He started coughing and gurgling blood, spraying over my clothes as well as his. Finally I increased the pressure on both holds, and waited for my prey to stop moving. I'm not sure which move finished him off, my chokehold, or internal bleeding because of my leg scissors.

I released my arms and legs, allowing the body to roll free onto the street. I took a long moment to collect myself; after all, I just crossed a line, passed a place where most people don't want to go. Next, I did the strangest thing. I pulled out the wallets of both men, and read the name on their driver's license. I told them who I was, and I somehow felt a little better that I knew who they were, as if killing a total stranger was any worse. It was all in self-defense, but having this happen close to our doorstep was unsettling. Finally I came up with an idea.

I took all the money from their wallets (totaling about $2,000 altogether), and then I pulled the trench coat off the knife guy. I found out later that he was accused of a few cases of aggravated assault, and a suspect in a few cases that were more serious. I put the trench coat on, because I suddenly felt a little chilly. I loaded both bodies into the trunk of their car, along with their weapons, and I drove the car downtown. When I found a deserted alley, I unloaded them there, and parked the car nearby. With luck, maybe they'll be suspected of being victims in a robbery or a drug deal gone badly. I had a cab pick me up and take me back to where my car was parked.

When I pulled into the driveway and garage, I saw that the light in Loretta's room was out. Good, I wasn't ready for her at the moment. I slowly pulled off the trench coat, my trophy of sorts. I walked down the hall where Aya suddenly popped up.

"Jane, where were you, I was worried sick!" She said.

"Not now, okay? You were right," I sighed.

"But you got all this blood on you! Let me take it off '"

"It's not mine."

Aya froze, and then understood. "Later, then."

The next day, my victims did make the TV news. Police dismissed it as a bad drug deal; easy when both were wanted felons. It wasn't big news either; it was the fifth story after the first commercial. If they found the bodies at their original location, Loretta might be highlighted again, though the evidence doesn't point to her, and whatever peace she tried to regain would be lost again, along with giving the remainder of the Sharks even more reason to hunt her down.

As for me, I did what I normally did when I go through tough times; I spend time alone, until I'm ready to talk to someone about it. For the next two days, I acted normal enough so Loretta wouldn't detect anything was wrong, and then I'd retreat into my shell for the rest of the day. Finally I sat in my room reading when there was a knock on my door. Before I could utter the words "yes," or "come in," Aya barged into the middle of the room, arms folded, staring at me.

"Aya," I cried, "what are you doing?"

"I gave you two days to recover from what you've went through. Now it's time. Talk to me," she demanded.

"Talk to you? About what?" I said defensively.

"No; I saw the news, I know about the two Sharks that were found in the alley, I know about the blood I saw on you, the blood that wasn't yours. Talk ' to ' me."

I looked up at her and started to say something, but my lips started quivering. I could only croak out the words.

"I . . . had to . . . protect her, Aya, and you, I had to, to '"

And that's when the floodgates broke loose. I started weeping like I couldn't stop. Aya rushed to my side and embraced me. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like forever before either of us said anything. Finally, Aya spoke.

"It's okay, Jane, it's all right now," Aya whispered in my ear.

"No Aya," I replied, "I don't think things will be "all right' for a long time."

For comments, suggestions, or story ideas, email the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.

#2008 Barefoot Heroines, Inc.