The Nationalist Express: A Kirsten Stewart Thriller #4 (Kirsten Stewart Thrillers) by G R Jordan

Author:G R Jordan [Jordan, G R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carpetless Publishing
Published: 2022-02-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Kirsten was unsure what to do. Clearly, she was going to have to fight for her life, but the people opposing her hadn’t asked to be there. She was capable of using lethal force, although in truth, she’d only ever really used it with her weapon in her hand. She’d shot people who were coming to injure her or possibly kill those she was protecting, but these people were just cast into what was a right mess. Most criminals you came across, even terrorists, wouldn’t dream up such a thing as this. Darcy, whoever he was, was clearly off his rocker, but that couldn’t be sorted now. All she could do was deal with what was in front of her. She’d try and knock them out, try and down them without killing them. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Was it?

How could you apply any rules to this situation? They didn’t train you for this. They trained you for evil people coming at you, but not this madness. A part of Kirsten wondered what Darcy’s real plan was behind it all. Was he simply a nut wanting to do anything to further the idea of independence, or had he something to gain from independence? She didn’t recognise him, didn’t know him from public life, and she was pretty good with all the major figures.

Kirsten seemed to be the only one standing, looking around, assessing the situation. Everyone else had simply made off for the nearest weapon. The man who had been standing beside her, the massive giant over six foot, had picked up a weapon and now turned to look back at her. Kirsten was short and she must have looked like an easy target. No one here would’ve known that from the age of ten, she started training inside a mixed martial arts ring. No one would know that she spent many hours grinding away, working through the pain barrier, so she could fight in such an octagon. No one would know that she was reasonably successful. To them all, she looked like a small woman who, while being in reasonable shape, certainly didn’t have the muscles to justify being a threat.

Her interior muscles were well hidden, and the fact that she could strike where she wanted and how she wanted made up for a lot for the bulk of muscle that was missing. She could take a punch. She could take a punch and still be standing, still react to it. That was always underestimated. The really hard people were those who could keep coming. Those who didn’t stop, those who no matter when you hit them, hit back just as quick. From the corner of her eye, she saw the large man charge at her. His black hair, sleek, his face now red from the exertion of running and in his right hand, she saw a machete.

From the way he is holding it, thought Kirsten, he doesn’t know how to use it. He’ll come at me, wild swing.

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