Stone needed a weapon. The gang leader had a weapon. Stone was going to take it from him and use it to disable the other attackers. The gang leader was going to attack first, when he did, he was going to swing the bat overhead like an axe. Stone knew this, he could tell by how the bat was being held — low and in front. Stone could see that the gang leader was going to start his attack by swinging the bat around and over his right shoulder as he stepped forward. Confronted with such an attack, most people would retreat, unintentionally creating space for the attacker to swing the bat. That would be a fatal mistake. The correct response was to move closer and deflect or seize the bat, before it could be swung with any force. That was what Stone planned to do, so he waited for the attack.
The three men inched towards Stone and jockeyed for position, until the gang leader was at the front with the two other guys slightly behind. Ready to respond instantly to their attack, Stone kept his weight carefully balanced on the balls of his feet. After thirty seconds of shuffling and circling, and mindful that reinforcements could arrive at any time, Stone decided to make things happen. He took a half-step backwards and deliberately faked a miss-step. That was all that was needed to provoke the gang leader to charge.
The baseball bat swung low, around and up, as the gang leader roared and charged forward. He telegraphed the attack so clearly that, from Stone’s viewpoint, the guy might as well have hung up a sign. Stone explosively pushed off from his left foot, meeting the gang leader halfway, and driving his right hip into the attacker’s groin. At the same instant Stone shoved his forearms into the man’s face and grabbed the handle of the bat. Trapped against Stone’s right hip, and unable to stop his momentum, the man started to tip forward. In an instant, Stone swept his left leg to his rear in a wide semicircle and twisted his body sharply as he pulled the baseball bat downward and to his left.
The move, based on the Aikido ‘Heavy Hand’ technique, took the baseball bat — and with it, the man’s hands — from above head height to ground level in just half a second. Helpless against the physics of momentum and gravity, the gang leader dived over Stone’s hip and, with a sickening thud, landed head first on the tarmac. As his attacker slumped into unconsciousness, Stone used the remaining impetus from the move to continue his turn, swinging the baseball bat around and up to meet the second attacker’s head with a dull slap. The man’s face went instantly blank and he took a couple of comical, stiff-legged steps in a half-circle before falling full length on his face. There was a moment of stillness as the third man contemplated the incredible speed and violence of what he had just witnessed, followed by a clatter as he dropped the pool cue, turned on his heels and walked swiftly away. A voice from the bar’s doorway broke the silence.
“Jesus, Stone!” Linda said, “Remind me never to piss you off!”
Ready for further action, Stone spun quickly towards the voice, but then he relaxed as he saw there were no more threats for him to deal with. Scud Fletcher was rolling on the ground and trying unsuccessfully to clutch his groin, a broken arm, and his bloody nose.
“What happened to him?”
Linda stared at the whimpering man, as if she was seeing him for the first time.
“I honestly don’t know,” she shook her head. “I remember that he grabbed me from behind and I went to hit him in the groin — after that, I don’t remember what happened. I guess he must have fallen badly.”
In obvious confusion, she shook her head again.
“Oh well… ” Stone shrugged, “no time to worry about that now.”
He leaned forward and experimentally poked Fletcher on the nose with the baseball bat. He received a squeal in response.
“Get up Mr. Fletcher — you and I are going to look for that phone number.”
The Fixer opened his office door and leaned out to speak to Bunny. The guard was sitting on his usual chair in the corridor.
“Bunny… Go and get Becka. Ask her to bring her report on Eric Stone.”
Bunny smiled and stood.
“Right, boss.”
“And, Bunny?”
The huge bodyguard stopped and turned.
“Yes, boss?”
“I need her now — so keep your hands off.”
Bunny’s shoulders slumped noticeably.
“Yes, boss,” he mumbled, ambling forward less enthusiastically.
A minute later Becka announced her arrival with a polite knock as she hurried in to the office. The Fixer smiled thinly.
“Sit down, Becka.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she juggled with a computer tablet and some papers.
The Fixer realized that Becka was worried. After being summoned unexpectedly, her young face was tight with tension.
“Look, I know you haven’t had long to look at this, so don’t worry — I just wanted to hear what you’d found so far.”
Becka looked up in stunned disbelief. She did well to hide her shock. In her experience, The Fixer demanded immediate results from his employees. He expected perfection, he did not tolerate failure, and he never apologized. She cleared her throat to hide her embarrassment.
“Er… ok… ”
In an effort to ease her tension, he tried a reassuring smile. Becka thought that it made him look about as trustworthy as a Praying Mantis.
“It’s ok Becka, just take your time.”
Reading from her notes, she began her report.
“Ok… here is all I have so far on Eric Stone. Most of it is information that Norris dug up from his data bank. I’ve combined it with the stuff that I’d developed originally for Peter, before he began the surveillance. This is the summary.”
She handed The Fixer a sheet of paper.
“He is thirty-nine, and a successful martial arts instructor. He owns a dojo in Colchester, in Essex, where he employs a staff of twelve. His tax returns and bank accounts show average earnings, nothing spectacular and nothing suspicious. I suspect that he may have developed contacts within the military, through some training he has given to soldiers at Colchester barracks, but there are no specific names. He may also have friends within the police via a private detective agency that has previously employed him as a bodyguard. The agency is run by Edward Carter, a retired police detective. I am looking into his affairs as well.”
She turned over the page.
“Eric Stone is unmarried and judging by the photographs we have, quite good looking for his age. He’s romantically involved with a woman called Linda Smart, a fitness and yoga instructor from Sawbridgeworth. She’s a little ‘new age’ for my tastes. Very pretty, but otherwise boring. I have her preliminary information here.”
She handed over a second sheet of paper.
“As we suspected, Charles Rathbone became friends with Eric Stone after Rathbone went to his dojo for fitness training. You will recall that Rathbone lost a leg to a bomb attack in Afghanistan. It seems that Stone was instrumental in helping Rathbone get back on his feet. Sorry — pardon the pun!”
Becka pulled a face and even The Fixer winced.
“Their relationship stayed off of our radar because there were no financial records to tie them together. At first glance, the points where their lives touched seemed entirely coincidental. After all, if you religiously follow the paper trail, most of us are just six steps away from everyone else on the planet. In their case, Rathbone belonged to Stones karate club, and Stone was a member of the same shooting club as Rathbone. Both points of contact seemed insignificant and coincidental.