Sergeant Nathan Robertson knew he was going to catch heck. He was supposed to be back with the convoy at the checkpoint, but the Lieutenant had insisted on keeping him late to translate. Now he had a two hundred yard walk through the darkest of Bagdad’s alleys.
He moved swiftly, keeping to the growing shadows, hoping not to be noticed by any hostile.
Funny, when they first arrived they had been treated like heroes. Now they were hated. Money from Washington was drying up, the bought Arabs didn’t want to stay bought, and every extra day spent in this sandbox was fraught with more tension, more confrontations, more danger.
Well, so be it. His was not to whine and cry, he had a job to do and if the ragheads (he knew he wasn’t supposed to call them that, but darn it!) wanted them gone he was more than willing to hop on a transport and–
Two shadows appeared in the mouth of the alley.
Nathan started to backtrack, then stopped.
An Arab was closing up behind him.
The three men wore robes over camos, were unshaven, and eyed him like a jackal eyes discarded dogmeat.
Damn! he thought, I didn’t want any trouble!
He estimated the situation. It was further to go backwards than forwards. Two in front, one in rear. And then he saw the long curved blade the one in the rear was carrying. A scimitar. One of those old cutting tools the Bedouins loved.
Nathan made up his mind and started to move forward.
Once in motion, Nathan Robertson was a tank. He wasn’t built like one, but his mindset made him pretty formidable.
The two Arabs in front tensed and got ready, and the one in the rear ran to get in on the action.
The only thing going through Nathan’s mind at the moment was I hope that Monkey Boxing Stuff works!
Nathan’s kid brother had gotten a hold of a Monkey Boxing Course, and they had had a ball while on leave. They had gone through the locks and holds, and practiced the weird freestyle drill for hours. It was great fun, a chance to hang with his bro, and now the proof was in the pudding. Outside of the Monkey Boxing, Nathan only had the normal military hand to hand stuff, and he didn’t think that was going to be enough for this situation.
At the point of impact Nathan drew back slightly, the Al Qaeda on the left dove in with two hands in an attempt to grapple.
Sure, as if Nathan would survive a three on one grapple.
Nathan smacked the man’s hands down and brought a knee up. The Arab’s nose exploded in red and he fell on the ground. Fortunately he fell in front of the other Arab, because the knee shot had hurt Nathan’s knee.
Darn, reality could hurt!
But, hurt or not, Nathan had no time, nor inclination, to whine about it. The second raghead–damn political correctness, there are honorable Arabs, and then there are raghead terrorists like these idiots–swung a club at him.
Nathan locked the arm, and just like it had shown on his brother’s Monkey Boxing DVD, he two stepped and whirled the terrorist into the man rushing from the rear.
The two men collided like uncoordinated lovers. The smack of their faces smashing into each other was like somebody popping a paper bag, and the one in the rear dropped his scimitar.
Nathan couldn’t help but grin. Two Monkey Boxing techniques and three bloody noses. And Sore heads when the saps woke up.
Well, that Monkey Boxing stuff had worked fine, and he was glad he knew it. And, so thinking, he exited the alley and ran for the checkpoint.
If you liked the story, you should look into Monkey Boxing. I recommend the page on Blinding Steel at Monster Martial Arts. That’s where you start. And don’t forget to pick up a free martial arts book on the home page.