Free Star Watch by Mark Wayne McGinnis Page B

There were hoots and hollers and pats on his back as Garret moved through the crowd toward the gym. Jason held back a moment and waited for Billy to join him at his side.
    “What exactly are we doing here, Cap?”
    Jason looked at his watch again. “I have six minutes. You want a place here, among these men?”
    Billy nodded. “Sure.”
    “Show Garret what an old SEAL has left in his tank.”
    “Yeah, you sure?”
    “We’re burning daylight here … I’m sure.”
    Jason watched Billy head off between the Sharks, boos and insults following him. The gym was not large enough for everyone to enter so Jason had to muscle his way in between big, muscular bodies. The ring was a hexagon—the ultimate fighting-type configuration—used for mixed martial arts: boxing, karate, wrestling, Sambo, Muay Thai, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and judo, and of course standard military close combat training, to give a few.
    Garret was standing in the middle of the ring, warming up—dancing around like a prizefighter. On the other side of the ring, Jason spotted Rizzo, and Sergeant Jackson, the enormous African-American Army Ranger who’d also served on The Lilly .
    Again, Jason checked the time. He had about two minutes before the Minian was scheduled to enter into an interchange wormhole … he needed to get back on the bridge. He reflected on the last time a ship entered that area of space and the subsequent loss of the Assailant … and his father along with it.
    The two men fist bumped and looked toward Jason. The surrounding tightly packed Sharks, one hundred or so, went quiet. They too watched Jason. He looked at Billy and nodded once.
    Garret threw the first punch, while Billy was still partially turned away. His fist connected with the side of Billy’s head, and Billy went down onto all fours. It appeared to shake his Cuban friend. Garret didn’t wait for Billy to regain his wits. Using the rigid toe of his left boot, Garret kicked Billy in the ribs, then, with the heel of the other boot, he kicked down at the back of Billy’s head. The crowd groaned in sympathy to what must have been an agonizing blow. Now sprawled flat on his stomach, Jason saw Billy blinking his eyes, trying to clear his head. Smiling and striding around Billy’s prone body, Garret slapped at his fellow Sharks’ outstretched hands. Big mistake, Jason thought. Billy got back to his feet and staggered a bit, but back was Billy’s confident smile.
    Jason waited for what he suspected was coming. What he himself would do. Billy ratcheted his upper body around in a quick, fluid motion and, like a released spring, his lower body uncoiled—delivering a powerful, spinning back kick that connected directly with Garret’s solar plexus. Now, as Garret doubled over, Billy, half-stepping to the side, delivered a short heel-stomp to the back of the man’s left knee. Garret let out a high-pitched yelp and began to fall backward. Billy, anticipating it, finished him off with a solid uppercut to the chin. His dead weight flopped down to the mat, unmoving.
    It took sixty seconds for Garret to come around. Jason crouched over his prone body and watched his face, waiting for Garret’s eyes to blink open, the haze to clear.
    “Listen to me, Lieutenant Garret. You now report to Lieutenant Commander Billy Hernandez. He outranks you and I expect you to show him the proper respect … respect you failed to show me. I advise you not to underestimate my men again. Any one of us could have laid you out flat … including me.”
    Jason stood and handed Billy a small gray box. “Here are your new collar bars—these men now report to you.”

Chapter 11
     
    Alchieves System
    Pharlom Attack Marauder, Planet Trom, Skies Above Cammilon City
    _________________
     
     
    Hanna was right—the plasma blasts most certainly were bringing unwanted attention in their direction. Leon took a quick look out of the open hatch and saw five Pharloms … no, six … from different locations around