Free The Vow by Georgia Fallon

Benue Province. At six feet five, with his air of latent power and intimidating tribal markings, he found he could walk the streets with impunity, day or night. He was tiring of army life and when his uncle and cousins suggested he stayed on, he was not hard to persuade. He was unconcerned about the repercussions of deserting knowing deep down that he would never return to his home. He was going to build himself a new and exciting life in this land of opportunity.
    But things didn’t go quite as he had hoped. As an illegal immigrant his employment opportunities were very limited and although his size and menacing appearance would have afforded him lucrative work for the men who ran the seedy world of protection, drugs and prostitution, this was not at all what he had in mind. He wasn’t too sure exactly what he did have in mind, but it certainly wasn’t washing dishes in the hot, crowded and noisy kitchen of a West End hotel that was happy to employ those without work permits and pay them a pittance. This was however where he found himself in the autumn of the year Marcus Delacroix married Helena Langham. Disillusioned and frustrated, the only bright spot in his life was the community sports centre where he spent most of his free time working out in the gym and kickboxing with anyone who had the guts to get in the ring with him.
    That grey and blowy day in mid-October had not been a good one so far for Saule. The hotel kitchen had been particularly busy over lunch, he had slipped on an area of wet floor breaking a dozen plates earning himself a hail of abuse from the scrawny little sous chef who enjoyed baiting the big man, safe in the knowledge he needed the job too much to retaliate.
    When the doors of the staff lift opened onto the underground parking area, Saule took in the situation at a glance. A well dressed middle-aged woman was pinned to the side of her car by a teenage thug with a knife in his hand. A second older man was emptying the contents of her handbag onto the ground. Dropping the sacks of kitchen rubbish he was carrying Saule was on top of them before anyone was really aware of his arrival. All of his suppressed fury spilled out, the adrenalin flowed and he did what he did best; kick arse.
    Suddenly realising what was happening the youth with the knife let go of the woman and lunged at the enormous black man who had appeared from nowhere. He badly mistimed his thrust with the weapon; Saule simply sidestepped it, grabbed his wrist and bent it back. The crack of the bone was audible to them all. The mugger sank to his knees screaming with pain only to be kicked hard in the ribs by the biggest Nike trainer he had ever seen. He’d already had enough, he made no attempt to fight back just curled himself into the foetal position and lay there groaning.
    Saule turned his attention to the second man who looked uncertainly at his injured mate and then at the exit, but before he could make a run for it Saule was on him. A ferocious kidney punch sent him staggering against a car, the back of his head was grabbed and his face smashed into its bonnet.
    As Saule prepared to repeat the manoeuvre the woman, seeing the already bloody face, shouted, ‘Stop! Please don’t do it again or I think I’ll be sick.’
    Saule tossed the man onto the floor next to his partner giving him a hefty kick for good measure. He turned to the woman and asked, ‘Are you ok, lady?’
    She was looking rather pale but managed a weak smile and replied, ‘Yes, yes I’m fine. Thank you, thank you so much. What do we do now?’
    ‘ Well, I could kill them both’.
    Seeing her horrified expression his face split into a huge grin and he told her, ‘Only joking. Do you want to involve the police?’
    She considered the consequences of that and answered, ‘No, not really, and I think you’ve given them more punishment than the courts are ever likely to.’
    Saule nodded, picking them both up by the scruff of the neck, one in each of his huge