Free 2 The Dante Connection by Estelle Ryan Page B

quick look around and decided to leave. I wasn’t there for more than ten minutes. I didn’t even order a drink. If you rewind this video, you would see me go in.”
    “Later. Can I watch the video now?” When Francine nodded, I tapped the screen and watched. The two couples stumbled to the left as Francine moved to her right, towards the camera. The moment the laughing couples were out of sight, two masked men left the building from the same door and ran to Francine.
    She must have heard the footsteps and started turning to the sound, but they were already on her. One man punched her hard in the face. She fell backwards into the arms of the taller man. He grabbed her around her waist and lifted her off her feet. The first man punched her again.
    At first she allowed her body to go slack, giving both men the illusion of compliance. Her body language communicated female pleading and fear. The tall man loosened his hold slightly and the first man moved in. As soon as he was close enough, she used the tall man’s hold on her as leverage and delivered a jarring kick to the other man’s groin. He dropped to the ground in visible agony.
    She didn’t wait for the tall man to recover from the shock of her sudden display of violence. Francine fought like a martial arts student. My trainer would have been impressed with her. I most certainly was. The tall man was still holding her, his face an easy target when she slammed her head back into it. There was no doubt in my mind that move had broken his nose.
    He reacted by holding her even tighter, but was not immune to a ten-centimetre heel jabbing into his foot. His mouth opened wide in a scream and he released her. By now the second man was slowly pushing himself up. The moment Francine’s feet touched the pavement, she started running. The first man grabbed at her and managed to catch her left calf. It was enough to unbalance her. She slammed into the ground.
    The tall man limped over as she kicked at the hand still holding her calf. Both men’s body language conveyed severe aggression. She had provoked fury in them. The tall man reached her side and kicked her so hard in her ribs that I flinched. I was amazed that her injuries were not more serious. She had lost one shoe, her pantyhose were ripped and she was curling in on herself to protect her torso from being kicked. The tall man delivered a few more kicks until Francine’s body appeared to relax in unconsciousness.
    The first man crawled over. One of her frantic kicks must have connected with his head. He was bleeding from a deep cut above his right ear. He lifted his right hand and an involuntary gasp left my lips. He held a large knife in his hand and a sneer pulled his mouth into a cruel smile. He was going to kill her.
    Obviously these men did not have a high intellect or they would’ve learned from experience. Francine used the same tactic as she had earlier. Still pretending to be unconscious, she waited for the first man to be close enough before she executed a sequence of elegant moves so fast I could only see flashes of moving limbs until she punched him hard in his throat. His head snapped back and he dropped to the pavement, clutching his throat. Her punch had been hard enough to cause possible damage to his spinal cord. It definitely caused his trachea to collapse. He was going to die from lack of oxygen.
    The tall man stared at his comrade for a second. His nostrils flared, increasing his oxygen intake and so preparing him for action. Francine must have seen this. She grabbed the first man’s knife from the pavement, jumped to her feet and staggered. She favoured her left side, her ribs causing her enough pain to inhibit her agility. The tall man reached behind him and pulled a revolver from the back of his dark pants. Francine didn’t give him time to move it past his side.
    With a speed that only a rush of adrenaline could provide, she stepped into him and drove the knife into his heart. How he did not