PREVIEW EXCERPT: The First Bayonet
Here is a preview of The First Bayonet, which will be released on Amazon.com and CreateSpace.com on August 31st, 2012. I hope you enjoy this preview! -Steven
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There was no doubt about it. He had eyes on Zaina Anwar.
Talk your way out of this, Williams pleaded internally. C'mon, please, talk your way out of this.
“I told you that you'd pay for what you did, you fucking whore,” Khalid rasped, his meaty paw locked around Zaina's jaw. “I've come to collect.”
“Get your hands off of me or I start screaming,” Zaina warned in flawless Arabic. Her voice wavered only due to the constriction on her mouth.
“I've paid off the guards,” Khalid leered. “Nobody is coming to save you. Now, get on your knees.”
“Last chance,” Zaina stated, her tone resolute. “Let me go.”
Stupid…Williams thought as he slowly stood and prepared to enter the fray. Brave, but stupid.
Khalid's grip on Zaina's jaw tightened. “Listen here, you fucking slut—”
His next invective was cut off by a swift knee to the groin, which caused him to double over. Zaina then grabbed hold of Khalid's face and dug her nails into his eyes, and an agonized cry leapt from his throat. One of the flunkies stepped in and delivered a right straight to her ribs. The force of the blow was not enough to break bone, but it did stun her long enough for Khalid to grab a fistful of Zaina's hair and glare at her with red eyes.
“You'll pay for that, bitch!” he snarled as he suspended her in the air.
Williams materialized behind Khalid and delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee, then followed this with an open palm strike to the back of the head, which compelled Khalid to release Zaina. He then spun Khalid around, wrapped his arms diagonally across the brute's back, and twisted hard in a textbook hip throw. Khalid hit the ground with a hard thud. He groaned as he writhed on the floor and attempted to regain his senses.
There was no time to celebrate. Williams immediately lunged for Zaina, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her out of the battlespace as the four criminals closed in. He glanced over his shoulder, saw one of the men closing in, and answered it with a crisp back kick that caught the man square in the chin and knocked him out. Williams immediately transitioned to the next man, just in time to duck under a haymaker. He grabbed the assailant by the scruff of his neck and belt line, then spun and hurled him toward one of his companions, which sent the both of them colliding and stumbling into a bunk.
That left one thug in full commission. He threw a jab and followed it with a right straight. Williams slapped the jab away with his left hand, side-stepped, and grabbed the man's outstretched wrist with his right hand. He gripped his opponent's shoulder with his free hand to control him and doubled the thug over. With blinding speed, Williams put his left knee on the man's elbow, gripped the wrist with both hands, and torqued the wrist upwards, which completely dislocated the joint.
The man's shriek almost drowned out the sound of his two buddies scrambling back into the fight. Williams hurled the man under his control into one of them, then focused his attention on the remaining bruiser. The thug threw a jab and a straight that were absorbed by Williams's forearms, then cocked back for a right haymaker. Williams blocked this with a left arm sweep, wrapped up and trapped his opponent's arm, delivered three brutal palm strikes to the man's chin, and then swept his right leg backwards while shoving the man's face forward. Once he hit the ground, Williams finished him off with a heel stomp to the chin.
That left one man in the fight aside from Khalid. Williams spun around to address his bum rush with a swift jab to the nose, followed by a right straight, and punctuated with a solid front kick that lifted him in the air. The last criminal hit the ground and clutched at his chest, gasping for air. From the looks of things, he only had a few minutes to live.
The distinctive click of a switchblade locking in place caught Williams's attention, and he turned to see Khalid standing between the bunks. In his paws, the blade was a nail file. The murder in his eyes was real and familiar to Williams. It was the same look many opponents possessed over the past two decades. His mind was consumed with bloodlust and Williams was the focus.
By this time, all of the prisoners had woken up and were watching intently. Williams did not take his eyes off of Khalid, but he could only imagine that they had seen a similar spectacle more than once, and that Khalid had won without breaking a sweat. He backed away from the beds slowly and moved toward the center aisle, and Khalid followed him into the aisle, as hoped. Williams wanted as much room to maneuver in an attempt to mitigate the damage to come. If there was one thing Williams hated, it was knife-fighting. That was because, regardless of the participants, there was one cardinal rule.
Everybody gets cut in a knife fight.
Khalid parried with the knife, and Williams leaned back, narrowly avoiding the blade. Williams resumed his stance, and Khalid laughed menacingly. He waved the blade from side to side, his eyes never wavering from Williams's. Khalid took a step forward, and Williams remained in place. Neither man moved for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Khalid let out a battle cry and lunged forward. Williams side-stepped to Khalid's outside, but he did not move his left arm in time, and the blade caught him on the forearm. The pain did not register as Williams grabbed Khalid's head with his left hand while neutralizing Khalid's weapon hand with his right. He guided the brute into a support beam, and used the moment of stunned time he had earned to twist the arm and guide the blade into the kidneys. As Khalid screamed, Williams pulled the knife from his body and kicked out his knee once more. Khalid fell, and Williams grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked back hard to expose the throat.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Williams plunged the knife into Khalid's throat and cut through muscle and esophagus as he severed the jugular. The head thug's screams dampened as hot, sticky blood launched from his arteries, filled his windpipe, and stained the support beam and floor. Williams thrust the knife into the base of Khalid's skull and took a step back, watching the prison boss's life rapidly fade from his carcass. He let out a deep breath and turned to face Zaina, whose horror-widened eyes were locked on him.
The lights came on, and several guards sprinted in, nightsticks at the ready. Williams immediately raised his hands and dropped to his knees. That did not stop the guards, and as the first baton came crashing down on his side, Williams collapsed into a ball and waited for the beating to end. After thirty seconds, a shrill voice bellowed over the commotion.
“That's enough! Stand down!”===================================================
THE FIRST BAYONET, available on Amazon and CreateSpace this Friday, August 31st.
===================================================
There was no doubt about it. He had eyes on Zaina Anwar.
Talk your way out of this, Williams pleaded internally. C'mon, please, talk your way out of this.
“I told you that you'd pay for what you did, you fucking whore,” Khalid rasped, his meaty paw locked around Zaina's jaw. “I've come to collect.”
“Get your hands off of me or I start screaming,” Zaina warned in flawless Arabic. Her voice wavered only due to the constriction on her mouth.
“I've paid off the guards,” Khalid leered. “Nobody is coming to save you. Now, get on your knees.”
“Last chance,” Zaina stated, her tone resolute. “Let me go.”
Stupid…Williams thought as he slowly stood and prepared to enter the fray. Brave, but stupid.
Khalid's grip on Zaina's jaw tightened. “Listen here, you fucking slut—”
His next invective was cut off by a swift knee to the groin, which caused him to double over. Zaina then grabbed hold of Khalid's face and dug her nails into his eyes, and an agonized cry leapt from his throat. One of the flunkies stepped in and delivered a right straight to her ribs. The force of the blow was not enough to break bone, but it did stun her long enough for Khalid to grab a fistful of Zaina's hair and glare at her with red eyes.
“You'll pay for that, bitch!” he snarled as he suspended her in the air.
Williams materialized behind Khalid and delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee, then followed this with an open palm strike to the back of the head, which compelled Khalid to release Zaina. He then spun Khalid around, wrapped his arms diagonally across the brute's back, and twisted hard in a textbook hip throw. Khalid hit the ground with a hard thud. He groaned as he writhed on the floor and attempted to regain his senses.
There was no time to celebrate. Williams immediately lunged for Zaina, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her out of the battlespace as the four criminals closed in. He glanced over his shoulder, saw one of the men closing in, and answered it with a crisp back kick that caught the man square in the chin and knocked him out. Williams immediately transitioned to the next man, just in time to duck under a haymaker. He grabbed the assailant by the scruff of his neck and belt line, then spun and hurled him toward one of his companions, which sent the both of them colliding and stumbling into a bunk.
That left one thug in full commission. He threw a jab and followed it with a right straight. Williams slapped the jab away with his left hand, side-stepped, and grabbed the man's outstretched wrist with his right hand. He gripped his opponent's shoulder with his free hand to control him and doubled the thug over. With blinding speed, Williams put his left knee on the man's elbow, gripped the wrist with both hands, and torqued the wrist upwards, which completely dislocated the joint.
The man's shriek almost drowned out the sound of his two buddies scrambling back into the fight. Williams hurled the man under his control into one of them, then focused his attention on the remaining bruiser. The thug threw a jab and a straight that were absorbed by Williams's forearms, then cocked back for a right haymaker. Williams blocked this with a left arm sweep, wrapped up and trapped his opponent's arm, delivered three brutal palm strikes to the man's chin, and then swept his right leg backwards while shoving the man's face forward. Once he hit the ground, Williams finished him off with a heel stomp to the chin.
That left one man in the fight aside from Khalid. Williams spun around to address his bum rush with a swift jab to the nose, followed by a right straight, and punctuated with a solid front kick that lifted him in the air. The last criminal hit the ground and clutched at his chest, gasping for air. From the looks of things, he only had a few minutes to live.
The distinctive click of a switchblade locking in place caught Williams's attention, and he turned to see Khalid standing between the bunks. In his paws, the blade was a nail file. The murder in his eyes was real and familiar to Williams. It was the same look many opponents possessed over the past two decades. His mind was consumed with bloodlust and Williams was the focus.
By this time, all of the prisoners had woken up and were watching intently. Williams did not take his eyes off of Khalid, but he could only imagine that they had seen a similar spectacle more than once, and that Khalid had won without breaking a sweat. He backed away from the beds slowly and moved toward the center aisle, and Khalid followed him into the aisle, as hoped. Williams wanted as much room to maneuver in an attempt to mitigate the damage to come. If there was one thing Williams hated, it was knife-fighting. That was because, regardless of the participants, there was one cardinal rule.
Everybody gets cut in a knife fight.
Khalid parried with the knife, and Williams leaned back, narrowly avoiding the blade. Williams resumed his stance, and Khalid laughed menacingly. He waved the blade from side to side, his eyes never wavering from Williams's. Khalid took a step forward, and Williams remained in place. Neither man moved for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Khalid let out a battle cry and lunged forward. Williams side-stepped to Khalid's outside, but he did not move his left arm in time, and the blade caught him on the forearm. The pain did not register as Williams grabbed Khalid's head with his left hand while neutralizing Khalid's weapon hand with his right. He guided the brute into a support beam, and used the moment of stunned time he had earned to twist the arm and guide the blade into the kidneys. As Khalid screamed, Williams pulled the knife from his body and kicked out his knee once more. Khalid fell, and Williams grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked back hard to expose the throat.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Williams plunged the knife into Khalid's throat and cut through muscle and esophagus as he severed the jugular. The head thug's screams dampened as hot, sticky blood launched from his arteries, filled his windpipe, and stained the support beam and floor. Williams thrust the knife into the base of Khalid's skull and took a step back, watching the prison boss's life rapidly fade from his carcass. He let out a deep breath and turned to face Zaina, whose horror-widened eyes were locked on him.
The lights came on, and several guards sprinted in, nightsticks at the ready. Williams immediately raised his hands and dropped to his knees. That did not stop the guards, and as the first baton came crashing down on his side, Williams collapsed into a ball and waited for the beating to end. After thirty seconds, a shrill voice bellowed over the commotion.
“That's enough! Stand down!”===================================================
THE FIRST BAYONET, available on Amazon and CreateSpace this Friday, August 31st.
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