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big man
stepped forward. “Let me do it.” He bared his teeth at me.
    “No,” the MP
said. He grabbed the big man by his shoulder. “You guys need to get the hell
out of here.”
    The big man
spun. “Like hell, man. He’s ours.” His large arm stretched out toward me. He
took two steps forward, looked back at the MP. “Just try and stop me.”
    I knew the MP
wouldn’t, so I did. I lifted my leg toward my chest and drove my heel down and
into the side of his knee. Popping sounds filled the room as his ACL and MCL
tore upon impact. He went down hard, his head slamming into the tile floor, a
pool of blood forming under him.
    All hell broke
loose after that.
    The MPs quickly
took care of the two standing prisoners, restraining them and piling them near
the door. Easy work, considering I’d already beaten them. With the prisoners
out of the way, the MPs turned their attention to me. I stepped forward and was
met with a quick strike to the side of my head by the blackjack. Searing pain
traveled from the spot of impact, and then around my head. The impact knocked
me off my feet. I landed hard on my side. The MPs pulled me off the floor. Two
of them pinned me against the wall. They leaned in with all their weight to
hold me still. The third took the blackjack and placed it across my throat. He
leaned on it in an effort to force my windpipe to close shut. My oxygen starved
lungs screamed out in pain. The edge of my vision darkened while flashes of
light filled the center. The last thing I remembered before passing out was the
sound of the door opening and a deep voice yelling my name.

Chapter 7
    A hard slap
across my cheek jarred me from my unconscious state. I opened my eyes. Bear
stood over me. His eyebrows pushed down over his eyes. He helped me to my feet
and steadied me against the wall. I tensed and checked over the room. Empty.
Trails of blood led from the middle of the floor to the door.
    “What the hell
happened, Jack?”
    I shook my
head. “They wanted to cut my hair.”
    “What?”
    “Retaliation,”
I said. “For breaking my cell-mate’s jaw.”
    “Yeah, I heard
about that.”
    “He swung at me
first.”
    Bear took a
step back. His lips thinned as he looked me over. “Christ, they did a number on
you. How do you feel? Can you walk?”
    I pushed away
from the wall. Took a step, steadied myself.
    “Yeah, I think
I’m good.”
    I walked to the
row of sinks and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Blood trickled from a
small gash on the side of my head. My nose was red and swollen, but not broken.
That was the worst of it, though. There were no broken bones and no major
lacerations. I came out it OK, all things considered.
    “Where’d
everyone go?” I said
    “They scattered
when I came in.” Bear said.
    “How’d you
know?”
    Bear hiked his
shoulders. “Word spread pretty quick down there,” he nodded toward the door,
“that they were fixing to do a number on you.” He shook his head. “Damn, they
sure did. We’ve got to get out of here, Jack.”
    “It’s not that
bad.” I ran cold water over my face, grabbed a handful of paper towels and
cleaned out the cut on the side of my head. It’d probably needed stitches, but
it’d heal without them, leaving a scar behind of course. Scars were good for my
line of work, though. They added an element of intimidation.
    “I’m with you,
Bear. Lead the way, and I’ll follow.”
    At that moment
the door swung open and a middle aged man dressed in his combat utility uniform
stepped in. He looked around the room, his gaze stopping at spots where a
struggle had obviously occurred. His eyes set on Bear, then shifted to me. He
shook his head.
    “What a mess,”
he said.
    I looked at
Bear. He nodded at me. We both moved to the center of the room, within arm’s
reach of each other.
    The man took a
step forward, letting the door swing shut behind him. He pushed his arms out in
front of him. “I’m a friend.”
    We said
nothing.
    “Abbot sent