Rowdy in Paris by Tim Sandlin

Author:Tim Sandlin [Sandlin, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Oothoon Press
Published: 2014-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

I went for Leon first because he seemed the dangerous one of the bunch, in a fight, anyway. Remi no doubt had a knife hidden somewhere, but I figured he wouldn't pull it unless he could stick me in the back. Armand was a politician. He would order others to rape, maim, and kill, but he wasn't likely to do so himself. And Bernard didn't bother me.

Of course, these calls were based on one-on-one, which wasn't the case here. The case here was, you bring enough coyotes to one location, they'll take on a bear. Remi grabbed my leg that was in midair from booting Leon, and he lifted it. Bernard grabbed the other leg and pulled. Armand swung a bottle into my ACL. I went over. The table went over. Chaos reigned supreme.

Real fights are nothing like movie fights, especially old cowboy movies where John Wayne could throw a man through a picture window without slicing an artery, or a guy in a black hat could wallop Audie Murphy over the head with a bottle and break the bottle instead of Audie's head. People almost never get hurt bad from fist-play in movies. Happens fairly regular in life.

I was on my back on the floor, not the place to be. Remi kicked me in the mouth. I bit his ankle to the bone. As I rose, Bernard pummeled my back. Leon did the charging bull thing. Caught me in the ribs and knocked me through a little table where two beret-type codgers were sipping liqueurs. They saved their drinks but lost the table.

Most of the customers stampeded away from the action but a few decided to play kill the cowboy. The ones coming and the ones going got in each other's way, giving me time to bust up more furniture. I karate-chopped Armand in the Adam's apple. He went over backward and rolled quickly onto his knees. He looked up at me with his mouth open, shocked that someone would dare hit him instead of his minions. Or maybe he was shocked he'd been karate-chopped by a cowboy. John Wayne didn't use karate moves. I learned mine from Jackie Chan movies.

That Leon was a tough bastard. He lifted me off the floor and tossed me into the bar. I bounced and kicked him in the crotch. He didn't care. I figure steroids had turned his nut sack to stone. Whatever, he was more pissed than incapacitated.

Bernard had a brandy bottle raised and ready to splatter. Odette two-handed a chair leg into his wrist so hard he dropped the bottle and fell to his knees. Odette let go of the chair leg and looked over at me.

I said, "Thank you, ma'am."

She smiled.

Giselle ducked out the back door.

I yelled, "Hold on," and took off after her. Made about three steps when Remi coldcocked me with a textbook. Four hundred pages, right in the nose. I fell and lay on the sticky floor, facing the book. It had an English title — Synergy of Global Economics.

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