American Assassin

Chapter 16
SERGEANT Jones was attending to Fred's broken nose. Roy and Glenn were talking quietly and shooting Victor daggers. Rapp looked to the door and noticed the shrink studying him. Twice now, Rapp had seen the rules of engagement broken, and so far, there had been no punishment handed out. Not that the old codger could be punished, but Victor was one of them, and if he could get away with it then Rapp could as well. It got Rapp thinking that maybe it was time to bend the rules a little bit. While he was working out the details of what he wanted to do, Sergeant Smith ordered him onto the mat and then pointed at Glenn.

"I would rather fight Victor," Rapp said.

"Well, you're not running the show around here," Smith snapped.

"He's doing you a favor," Victor said, still out of breath. "A little p-ssy like you wouldn't last five seconds against me."

Rapp stayed calm, but there was something unmistakably ominous just beneath the surface. "Let's find out," he said evenly.

"Suicide," Victor retorted.

"I think you're afraid."

"Shut up, all of you," Sergeant Smith said. "Glenn, get your ass on the mat."

Rapp moved to his left, cutting off Glenn. He stayed facing the wiry instructor and said, "I'm confused. Do rules matter around here, or does Victor get to do as he pleases?"

"We have rules, dammit! Now get in the middle of the mat and shut up."

"No disrespect, Sarge, but this is bullshit. How are we supposed to trust each other ... how are we supposed to trust you when he keeps doing whatever the hell he wants without getting punished?"

"You think there's any rules out there," Victor laughed, "in the real world? Hell no!"

"But in here ... we should just let you do whatever you want?"

"Sarge," Victor said as he got to his feet, "I got this one. Don't worry. I can take care of this little college puke with one arm tied behind my back."

Sergeant Smith looked as if he was about to lose it, but the blond-haired shrink stepped in and said, "Sergeant, I think we should allow Victor and Irving to have a go at it."

The sergeant's head snapped around. Rapp noticed a brief exchange of thoughts between the men before the sergeant retreated. "All right," he grumbled, "both of you, center of the mat, square off, and on my mark you start."

"Do we bother with rules this time, or should I assume Victor will break them?" Rapp asked, stone-faced.

"The head and neck are off limits, dammit!"

"I appreciate the effort, Sarge, but I'd prefer no restrictions," Rapp said.

"I don't care what you prefer. I make the rules."

Rapp hesitated. He wanted clarification on this point, and he'd rather not have to worry about Victor cheating. "And if Victor accidentally punches me in the face?"

"God dammit!" the sergeant boomed. "This isn't a debate club. Do you ladies want to go for a nice long run?"

Rapp silently moved to the center of the mat, satisfied that he had made his point, but nonetheless wary that Victor would do whatever it took to win. A strategy was already forming in his head. Victor had shown that he was a fairly one-dimensional fighter. Against the uninitiated he could probably hold his own on the mat, but boxing was his preference. That was plain enough to see.

Victor was all smiles as he slapped one fist into the fleshy palm of the other. "I'm gonna kick your ass, you little puke."

Rapp brought his fists up close to his face like a boxer, elbows in tight. "And if you can't, Victor?"

"Oh! ... there's no doubt. You're going down."

Rapp drew him in. He feigned that he was out of position and allowed Victor to initiate the first salvo. Two slow left jabs were launched straight for Rapp's face. Rapp blocked them with his right hand and then ducked under a big hook that would have knocked him off his feet if it had connected. Rapp noted that three punches had been thrown by Victor and all three had been directed at his supposedly off limits head, and more important, Sergeant Smith didn't seem to care that Victor was breaking the rules yet again. That would make things easier for Rapp. He changed directions and bobbed back to his left as Victor threw two hard right jabs. The first one Rapp dodged and the second one hit him in the left shoulder. The blow was solid, but Rapp played it up, intentionally stumbling to his right as if he were in trouble. Victor took the bait and charged in, his left hand trying to push Rapp's hands out of the way so he could deliver a knockout blow with his right.

As Victor brought his fist up by his right ear, Rapp sprang forward with such quickness that he caught Victor completely off guard. He grabbed the bigger man's left wrist with his right hand and threw up his left arm to block the coming punch. Rapp launched himself at Victor, his head arching back and then whipping forward. His hard forehead slammed into the soft cartilage of Victor's nose, making a sickening crushing sound. Before Victor could counter, Rapp wrapped his hands around the back of the big man's neck, pulling him down and in. Rapp delivered two harsh knee strikes to the big man's sternum before releasing him. Victor staggered back, blood pouring from his nose, gasping for air.

"Sorry about that, Victor," Rapp said, egging him on. "I didn't mean to break your nose."

"I'm going to f*cking kill you," Victor screamed.

Rapp simply motioned for Victor to bring it on.

The big man charged. Rapp expected the bull rush. He feinted to his right and then back to his left, and as Victor lumbered by he hit him with a punch to the kidney which stood him up. Victor pivoted to meet the next blow, and rather than gain distance, Rapp engaged, moving in and wrapping his left hand around the back of Victor's neck and his right hand around Victor's biceps. Victor reared his head back and was prepared to deliver a head butt of his own, but before he could strike, Rapp did something that none of them expected. He jumped up in the air, swung his left leg under Victor's right armpit and then his right leg around Victor's neck as he allowed himself to fall to the mat. Rapp was now upside down hanging on to Victor's left arm and pulling him down on top of him. Rapp raised his hips, and the pressure toppled Victor to the mat. Rapp had him in a version of the same arm bar that he had put the mean old cuss in on the first day, except that Rapp wasn't looking for submission this time.

Rapp grabbed Victor's wrist with both hands. He twisted and pulled the arm until the elbow socket was on top of his right hip bone, and then he raised his hips while pulling down as hard as he could with his hands. Rapp did not stop, even when Victor started to scream. The entire thing took just under two seconds. There was a loud pop, and then Rapp released the arm, which was now bent at a very unnatural angle.

Rapp got to his feet and looked down at Victor. The man was moaning, his entire body rigid with pain. Rapp didn't smile or gloat. There was a touch of guilt over what he'd just done, but Victor was a bully and a jerk. Fred was sitting at the edge of the mat with cotton shoved up his nostrils and an ice pack on his nose. Fred nodded to Rapp and flashed him the thumbs-up. Roy and Glenn wandered over, each man quietly congratulating him for solving their problem. Sergeant Smith was too busy attending to Victor, who was flopping around writhing in pain. Rapp had no idea whether he was in trouble. He looked over at the shrink, who was watching him intently. The man's lips were pursed in thought as if he appeared to have drawn some conclusion about Rapp. The only problem was, Rapp couldn't tell if it was admiration or disappointment.