The open area of ground is quite small and the fighters have to remain under the lamps in order to work. A second blow on the whistle means they can start the action. Now they face off.
The Asset hardly pays any attention to Rungkom, who begins to dance around him, feinting with both fists and feet in order to make a full professional inventory of his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. Rungkom is puzzled because the American makes no effort to evade kicks that come within a millimeter of his face. It is as if he can measure distance down to nano level and guess the feints by some kind of telepathy. Then when the Thai finally lets loose with a head kick from an unexpected direction, the Asset simply isn’t there. He dodged at exactly the right moment, leaving only a split-second margin to avoid a blow that would have broken his cheekbone.
–
So it went on and I began to feel despondent. It’s true there were two strikes from the champion that left the Asset shaking his head and bleeding from cuts above and below his eyes, but those were blows that should have ended the fight, and the Asset merely staggered. Sergeant Ruamsantiah has covered his face with his hands. I want to yell, Run, Rungkom, run for your life. But I see from his face that he has reached a very personal conclusion. Perhaps he isn’t so fond of his HiSo lifestyle as the media claims. Perhaps he is somewhat disillusioned with success and feels a certain nostalgia for the early days when he was the hottest kid in Muay Thai and every fight was a personal statement of his quest for freedom and glory. He really is a champion, for already he has understood that he cannot win, that he might not leave this wasteland alive, but Sakagorn will have to give his family the agreed price and pay off the loan sharks, or someone will come for Sakagorn one fine night when he is least expecting it. And of course, there will be ten million from Vikorn, who always honors his debts. As for the fight, the best he can hope for is to damage the Asset so badly that he will be crippled for the next round.
The Asset is tiring, too, though, there’s no doubt about that. Rungkom sees it and delivers a full power kick that was designed for the Asset’s jaw but-even better-lands on his Adam’s apple. Even a fully trained CIA zombie needs air, and for a moment the Asset doubles over coughing violently, as if he is about to fall. Rungkom sees it and comes in for the kill. But this is where training tells. The Asset not only manages to recover with astonishing speed; he has also prepared his posture so that when Rungkom delivers what he had every right to believe would be the killer kick, the Asset is able to twist around so that the force of the blow is lost on the muscles of his shoulder, and Rungkom now is close to exhaustion. A blow as heavy as that drains the fighter who lands it. I cannot describe the brief look that came over the Asset’s face when Rungkom hurt him; a snippet of conversation with Dr. Bride flashed across my mind:
You’re talking about the devil?
Aren’t you?
Sakagorn blows his whistle. That was a very long minute. Now I am muttering out loud, “Run, Rungkom, run for your life.”
–
Thirty seconds have passed and Sakagorn blows the whistle again. Rungkom doesn’t care so much for his life, that much is clear now. I think he has decided that a damp and desolate piece of wasteland by the river would make an appropriate place to die and he is looking forward to fighting all the way to the end. He is especially clever at dodging the Asset’s punches-at first. It only takes one body blow under the heart to hurt him, though. I cannot doubt that a few ribs broke when that elegant fist landed with sickening force. Now the Thai moves awkwardly, favoring his right side, all too obviously trying to protect the left. Then, crunch: the Asset lands another punch in exactly the same spot under the heart and Rungkom can hardly believe the pain. It is only twenty seconds into the second round, but it’s all over for the Thai. Now I can’t help it. I yell at the top of my voice, “Get the hell out, Khun Rungkom, for Buddha’s sake, it’s not worth dying for.”
Rungkom is a warrior, though, and knows different. He must have considered many times how it might be to die at the top of his game, under blazing lamps, in the ring of honor. Sakagorn must have promised a fortune to his family or he would never have accepted the challenge.
The Asset stops fighting, turns to Goldman with a sneer on his face, as if he, too, thinks it bad form to have set him against a mere human. Goldman, with an ugly look, gives the thumbs-down. The Asset turns from Goldman to Rungkom with a kind of curiosity. He is like a tiger making a decision as to the most elegant way to destroy his prey. He walks up to Rungkom in a casual way, easily dodges the champion’s last sad kick, and puts the full force of his extraordinary body behind an open-palm blow to the center of the fighter’s forehead. Rungkom collapses like a sack of cement. As he lies stretched out in the dirt, it is obvious to me that he is dead. I feel only disgust and sickness. Of course, it is impossible not to hate Goldman and his Asset. That was just a tiny little taste of what we can do, the expression on the agent’s face says.
I watch, stunned, while Rungkom’s people carry him to their truck. Two have to enter the vehicle and pull while the others hold him up. Not a chore that can be done with elegance, but they try.
I am sad as hell and pretty much obsessed with what I have just witnessed when I feel a gentle hand on my arm. “Let’s go home,” Chanya says.
Startled for a moment, I stare at her. “Did you have sex with Krom?” I ask. She takes out her phone to call for a taxi.
28
“I can only have sex with a man,” Chanya says in the back of the cab. “But that’s not the most important thing I learned tonight.” I raise my sad eyes. She lays a hand over one of mine. “Krom’s been enhanced, Sonchai. She’s one of them.”
An invisible spider crawls up my spine. “Huh?”
“Not like that monster tonight, that Asset-but down that road. Her body is incredibly strong. Not like a woman’s at all.” I stare at her. She looks away, out of the window, at the silent street. “It’s like something has been going on, maybe for decades, behind the backs of ordinary people. While we’ve been amusing ourselves with our little human issues that have to do with love, sex, and freedom, and the quality of life and democracy and pollution and stewardship of the earth-little minor things like that, which will turn out to be mere distractions-something else has been happening. Something that is about to change everything suddenly and forever-and despite myself I can’t wait.” For a second a convulsion shakes her body and she emits something between a laugh and a shout. “It all really is going to be over, all of it.” She waves a hand to include the world. She seems genuinely relieved.
“What are you talking about?”
She raises her arms dramatically, then lets them drop. “Whatever it is, it’s out of control. Forget about human rights, that illusion is about to be squashed by something too big to care-or even notice.” She sees the look on my face, squeezes my hand. “Don’t be jealous, Sonchai. What is one woman going to fuck another woman with, an inanimate object? How would that satisfy me, given who I am and what I’ve done? I’m not scared of men and I don’t hate them, I spent a career manipulating the hell out of them. I adore the poor weak cuddly things.” She lets go of my hand. “She wanted intimacy, let’s put it like that. It was fun, for a moment, to be charmed by such a…person. She’s very funny when she wants to be. Incredibly versatile. She seemed to spill her guts a bit, just like a man would-but now I’m not sure about that. I think there was a lot she told me that she expects me to pass on to you. Stuff she wouldn’t tell you directly. I’m a kind of firewall. Coming through me everything is deniable, especially since we were supposed to be having sex at the time.”