Ghost Operative (Peter Black Book 8) by David Archer & Vince Vogel

Author:David Archer & Vince Vogel [Archer, David & Vogel, Vince]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Right House
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-FIVE

The fight kicks off, and Peter quickly realizes the champion’s resilience; the man is a fortress. Despite the grotesque mottling of his skin from cystic acne due to years of steroid abuse, his painful welts oozing a mix of blood and pus, he stands mercilessly unyielding.

Peter’s initial strategy is simple—target those welts, exploit the pain.

But his plan hits a wall—namely, the champion. The colossus absorbs his hits with the stoicism of a monolith, as unaffected by the assault as the walls of the cave would be had Peter attacked them. His scarred face, a testament to a brutal history of combat, barely registers the impact of Peter’s blows.

Yet, for all his physicality, he lacks method. As the fight progresses, Peter notices gaps in the champion’s technique. For all his brute strength and ferocity, the man lacks refinement, repeating combination patterns and leaving gaps wide open.

As the champion barrels forward with predictable brutality, Peter deftly reads the incoming patterns, sidestepping with ease. He finds openings, striking with controlled, measured force, landing a solid punch on the champion’s ribcage. The impact is precise. He follows with a Krav Maga inside defense block as the champion retaliates with a jab.

The fight wears on, Peter trying to grind his massive opponent down, bit by bit, one punch and kick at a time, weaving away from the champion’s own punches.

Well, most of them, at least.

Every so often, Peter gets crowded out, loses his rhythm, or just plain isn’t quick enough and has to take one. The champion’s blows land with the force of a sledgehammer, each hit reverberating through Peter’s bones. One particularly vicious Muay Thai knee-strike sends Peter crashing against the cage, the rusted mesh biting into his back as the crowd’s roar crescendos.

Peter has to be quick as the champion comes at him with a pile driver of a punch, the type that could crush Peter’s skull into the mesh of the cage. He throws himself into a roll, rising quickly and steadying himself against the other side of the cage.

He must act fast.

Before the champion can heave his huge body around, Peter launches a Muay Thai elbow strike, aiming for his opponent’s abnormally wide jaw.

When it connects with a snap, the giant barely flinches. Undeterred, Peter spins, delivering a Krav Maga knee strike to the champion’s midsection. It’s like hitting a wall.

He shifts, using Pencak Silat. Peter sweeps low, targeting his opponent’s knees with a sharp kick. The giant stumbles, just a notch.

Peter leaps back, readying for another round. The champion shakes it off, grinning, unbroken, the fight far from over.

In a flash of movement, Peter ducks under a wide kick, circling to the champion’s back. Time to initiate the plan. He strikes at a particularly grotesque welt protruding from the fighter’s left shoulder, rasping his fingernails across it, tearing into the scabs that have already formed there. The giant’s response is immediate—a guttural cry of pain, a rare display of vulnerability that cuts through the din of the crowd. For a moment, Peter’s advantage is clear, a small victory in a battle where survival is the only prize.

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