Kheda stepped over Avery’s legs and continued toward the control module. The Russian stopped on the opposite side of Avery and Aleksa, placing the two prisoners between him and Kheda. The Russian stood seven feet away, adopting a wide stance, poised to move quickly, if necessary. He had a pistol holstered at his side. It was apparent that he was present simply to observe and ensure the outcome.
The aft ramp lowered on its support pylons, revealing a patch of deep, endless blue sky and turning the cargo hold into an air tunnel, buffeting everyone inside. Ruslan Kheda gazed out into space for a long moment. He seemed unaffected by the powerful torrent of air bombarding him full force. Finally, he turned around and returned his attention to the task at hand.
As the mafiya killer approached, Avery was surprised at how calm he felt. His mind became suddenly sober and focused, looking for options and plotting a course of action. He just wished his body was up for it. He tried getting onto his feet, but the pain in his side had worsened exponentially after the prolonged time spent in one position, sleeping. He tried to push through the pain, but it immobilized him and set him right back down on his ass.
Aleksa jumped onto her feet and came around in front of Avery, immediately acquiring Kheda’s attention. She charged him and crashed her fists down against his forehead, but he barely flinched. He calmly grabbed a handful of Aleksa’s hair, yanked her head back, and struck her in the left temple. When she went limp, he threw her to the deck and kicked her once between the shoulders. Then he exchanged looks with the amused Russian and shook his head.
By now, Avery had worked his way onto his feet.
The Russian, closer than Kheda, saw this, reacting first, and came at him.
Avery had three inches on the Russian, and he smashed his forehead against his opponent’s face. The Russian grabbed onto Avery as he stumbled back, taking him down with him. Avery landed on top of the Russian, whose skull smacked against the deck.
Immediately, Avery felt a pair of large hands clamp around his shoulders from behind.
Kheda effortlessly lifted Avery off the Russian and slammed him face first against the end cap of the nearest uranium container. Before Avery recovered, Kheda came in close, grabbed the back of Avery’s head, and rammed it face-first against the cylinder’s steel surface. Then he punched low, hitting Avery hard and repeatedly in the kidney. Avery threw his head back and cried out. The pain ruptured through his abdomen like a shockwave. He felt the acidic burn of bile rise up the back of his throat. After three direct hits to his kidney, his legs caved like wet noodles, and he sank.
Kheda caught Avery beneath his armpits as he went down, heaved him back up, spun him around, and punched him in the face, re-opening the gash in his cheek.
As he leaned up against the cylinders, to keep from falling over, Avery saw a blurry, spinning double set of Khedas in front of him, about to deliver a right hook. Avery sidestepped fast, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, and Kheda’s knuckles impacted against the steel of the container hard enough to break bone, but the Chechen wasn’t fazed.
Kheda turned halfway around, locked onto Avery, and swung his fist again. Avery dodged it, pivoted, and landed a kick below Kheda’s sternum. The Chechen absorbed the blow and clamped his big hands around Avery’s ankle. He tugged it sharply up, toppling him. Avery landed on his back, smacking his tailbone against the hard steel of the deck.
Avery lifted his head. Behind Kheda, he saw the Russian getting back onto his feet. Aleksa lay still on the deck.
The Russian drew his pistol, but Kheda waved a restraining hand, indicating he wanted to deal with Avery himself and that he still had the situation under control. The Russian reluctantly took a few steps back, gave Kheda space.
Avery backed away slowly across the deck in an effort to increase the gap between him and the advancing Chechen. Distress signals shot through his nervous system from every part of his body to his brain. He wasn’t able to ignore the pain in his abdomen and ribs and head, but he pushed through it and sucked in a painful lungful of air. Avery exploded onto his feet, bolted across the deck, and slammed his overturned shoulder into the Chechen.
Knocked back a couple steps, Kheda responded by punching down into the back of Avery’s skull. Then he wrapped his hands tightly around Avery’s neck, squeezing his larynx and trachea, Avery grew quickly dizzy and ready to pass out.
Then Kheda started moving, stepping out on his left foot and sliding the right over, dragging Avery’s deadweight with him. Two more steps in the same direction, feeling the cold breeze whipping against them, and Avery realized the son of a bitch intended to throw him out the back of the plane. Through a sideways glance, he saw the patch of endless blue sky filling the space of the lowered cargo ramp, fifteen feet way.
Avery thrashed and kicked and threw his weight in the opposite direction and planted his feet firmly against the deck and pushed against the direction in which Kheda dragged him, doing everything within his limited power to prevent the Chechen from advancing another inch with him.
But Kheda was much stronger and had a solid forty pounds and five inches on Avery, and Avery saw black spots popping up across his vision and his lungs received no air, and it was just a matter of time before his legs slackened and gave out or he blacked out.
Kheda brought Avery in closer, wrangling to get better control over him. He wrapped his long arms around Avery, beneath his armpits, interlocking his fingers behind his neck, his hot, smelly breath against Avery’s face.
The Russian stayed close to them but not intervening, the pistol still in his hand, lowered at his side. He was oblivious to Aleksa stepping up behind him until he saw a blur of lightning fast movement in front of his face and felt the steel chain between her cuffs digging into his throat as she pulled it back and up. His eyes bulged, and he grabbed at the chain, trying to get his fingers between it and his throat, while trying to shake off his attacker. He slammed his weight back against the fuselage, sandwiching Aleksa, but she refused to let go, and struggled with him.
Twelve feet away, Kheda had his back to them, but Avery saw it all. He raised a knee into Kheda’s crotch, mashing his balls together. That gave the Chechen a surprise, knocked the air out of him, and Avery felt the grip around his throat slacken for just a second.
It was enough.
Inhaling deep, Avery snapped his head back, opened his mouth wide, and chomped his teeth down around Kheda’s nose. Kheda responded instantly by trying to pull away, but Avery bit down harder, sinking his teeth in and locking his jaw tight. He thrashed his head from side to side, his teeth crunching and tearing through cartilage and tearing blood vessels and sinus cavities. Blood and mucus filled his mouth.
Tears pooled in Kheda’s eyes. His mouth was agape, and Avery heard him screaming, howling like a wild animal, over the barrage of the engines. Kheda released Avery’s neck and took Avery’s head in his hands, squeezing his skull and pushing his head back and trying to pry his jaws apart. His big hands covered Avery’s face, and Avery ignored the thumb gouging into his eyeball and the tip of a pinky finger far up his nostril. He bit down hard as he possibly could, grinding his teeth together, and forcefully snapped his head back.
Kheda immediately released Avery and raised his hands to the gaping hole in the center of his face. Dark blood spurted from the hole.
Avery came around and kicked Kheda’s knee out from behind, toppling him over onto his other knee, and then Avery stepped back and kicked him in the chest. Then he spit out the nose and a mouthful of blood and snot. The nose flew past Kheda and was sucked out the back of the jet.