Free KOP Killer by Warren Hammond Page A

what I needed. A good fucking fight, consequences be damned. If Mota had one of his agents in the crowd, so be it. My enforcer juices couldn’t be tamed.
    Somebody came and collected my weapon. And everybody else’s too. The air hung heavy with anticipation. Badge bunnies hopped away. Suits hung in the corner, spectating from afar. A pair of uniforms joined our side, and I recognized them as a couple of late arrivals from the riot. Two of Wu and Froelich’s boys.
    A bartender yelled from behind the bar, “Take it outside. You want to be welcome in here afterwards, you take it outside.”
    The stiff opposite me turned his head to talk to his newly formed gang. “Yeah, let’s move it outside.”
    That was when I hit him, dropped the fucker with a right to the jaw. I ran over him, my shoe stomping his balls on my way to bull into the next hump. I drove my shoulder into his chest and ran him backward until we tumbled over a table, and the gates of hell broke loose behind me.
    The gates of glorious hell.
    *   *   *
    I was on my back taking shots to the face, my hands covering and taking the worst of it. I tried to buck the bastard off me, but my strength was sapped. Nothing to do but take it. He snuck one through my guard, my head going dizzy.
    “You can’t hurt me,” I spat. Another fist came down. “That all you got?”
    Somebody pulled him off, telling him it was over. “Easy. Take it easy,” said a voice.
    I couldn’t see straight. Too much blood in my eyes. I wiped my face with my shirt. Hands picked me up and ushered me toward the door. I bumbled over collapsed tables and broken chairs before being ejected out to the street. Finding a lamppost to lean on, I rubbed my eyes clear and took a long look at my scraped and already swelling knuckles. I grinned. I could still throw a punch.
    Looking down, I found Deluski and Kripsen sitting in a patch of weeds, their lungs heaving, their faces bloodied like mine. Behind them Wu lay passed out with geckos crawling all over him. I swept at the flies buzzing around my head. The smell of blood must’ve been driving them mad.
    Lumbela was across the way, his arm draped over the shoulder of the uniform I’d dropped, the two of them laughing. The uniform’s girl stood nearby, arms crossed, her impatient foot going tap, tap, tap. That stiff had another fight coming later tonight. I laughed, deep and hard. I’d forgotten the joy of genuine laughter.
    Somebody handed me a can of fly gel. “You’re gonna need this.”
    “Yeah. Was that you pounding my face?”
    “That was me.” He flexed his fist. “You got one hard face.”
    I scooped out a gob of gel and slathered my brow to kill any eggs that were already there. “See any other cuts?”
    He tilted my head back in the lamplight and gave me a good once-over. “I don’t think so, but I can’t tell for sure.”
    I rubbed gel over my knuckles. “Good fucking fight.”
    “Shit, yeah.” He patted my shoulder and brought the gel to Deluski and Kripsen.
    I walked over to them. “Can you guys get Wu home?”
    “You bet, boss,” said Kripsen.
    “Let me borrow your phone.”
    Kripsen handed it over. It took me only a few seconds to get the address before I tossed the phone back to him. Fun as it would be to buy everybody a round, it was time I shoved off.
    I found my piece in a pile of weapons on the walk and tucked it into my waistband.
    “Where you going, boss?” asked Kripsen.
    “I got something I gotta do. You guys get Wu home.”
    Suddenly remembering, I reached for my shirt pocket. Good. My shades were still there. I pulled them free and gave them a look. They’d made it through just fine. Smiling, I slipped them on.
    I started hoofing, purpose in my gait. I didn’t care that my head ached, didn’t care about my ribs and knuckles either. I wore the wounds like badges, something to be proud of. I’d kicked some ass and tagged myself a fucking force.
    I didn’t want to think about where I was going. I