Adam watched as Yama wiped his sword clean on the back of the younger trooper’s shirt. The man in blue scooped up his machine gun, replaced his peculiar blade in its scabbard, and ran off to the right, out of Adam’s sight.
Where was he going now?
Adam crawled from his room and back to the window in the living room he’d peered through before, the one to the left of the front door. He could hear someone speaking as he rose to his knees.
“…get this friend of yours,” the officer was telling Adam’s parents, “and then well take you to the Citadel for a personal interview with the Doktor.
That’s quite an honor. Not many get to meet the Doktor personally. Of course, not many live to tell about it afterwards, either.” He snickered.
“What do you think is taking Harris and Morgan so long?” inquired the only remaining soldier anxiously.
Lieutenant Simms glanced at the southwestern corner of the house.
“They should have found him by now, shouldn’t they?” He nervously began chewing on his lower lip. “Maybe we should get out of here while the getting is good. We can come back with reinforcements and take care of that bastard in blue!”
“What about them?” the last trooper asked, indicating the Masons.
“Yeah. What about them? It’s all their fault. They should pay the penalty for violating the laws of the State.” Simms glared at Seth and Gail, fingering the trigger on his M-16.
Adam felt sweat on his palms, knowing the officer was going to shoot his parents. Where was Yama?
There was the grating pop of a single shot, and the other soldier grunted as his forehead blew out, ejecting a shower of blood and bits of flesh over the grass.
Adam saw Lieutenant Simms whirl, facing the southwestern corner of the house.
No one was there.
Simms covered the Masons again. “Where are you? I know you can hear me! You’d better come out in the open, where I can see you, or I’ll waste the dirt farmer and his wife! Now!”
Adam held his breath, fearing Yama would expose himself to the officer’s gun and be shot on sight.
“You have ten seconds!” Sunms bellowed.
Still no Yama.
“Five seconds!” Lieutenant Simms shouted.
“I won’t need that long,” said a quiet voice, coming from the northwestern corner of the house.
Adam craned his neck.
Yama was standing near the corner, his machine gun trained on the officer.
“You shoot me,” Simms told him, “and I can guarantee you I’ll take them with me before I drop!”
Seth had his left arm around his wife and was holding Gail close to his body, as if sheltering her.
“Looks like we have a draw,” Simms said.
“Would you like to settle it?” Yama questioned him.
“Like how?” Simms demanded.
“We put our weapons on the ground and finish it man to man,” Yama proposed.
Lieutenant Simms grinned. “I like your style, stranger. If that’s the way you want it, why not?”
“After you,” Yama stated.
“Do I look nuts?” Simms retorted.
“Then on the count of three,” Yama said. “One.”
Adam observed the two men slowly crouch.
“Two.”
Yama set his machine gun on the grass and Simms did likewise with his M-16.
“Three.”
Both men released their grips and stood.
“And now the handguns,” Yama directed. “One.”
Again they followed the same cautious procedure.
“Two.”
Yama laid his revolver and pistol on the ground as Simms placed his automatic at his feet.
“Three.”
The men stood.
“What about that sword and knife of yours?” the officer queried. “I’m not carrying a blade.”
Yama unfastened his leather belt and dropped the sword and survival knife.
Lieutenant Simms was grinning like a crafty fox after a successful raid on a chicken coop. He took two steps toward the man in blue. “Aren’t you a bit curious about why I accepted your cockamamie idea?”
Yama shook his head.
“Well, you should be,” Simms said.
Adam saw the officer position his body in some sort of weird squat, his legs at a slant to his torso.
“Three years running,” Simms revealed, “I was regimental champ in hand-to-hand. Black belt.”
Yama seemed unimpressed by the revelation. He advanced toward the officer until he was four feet away, then he too dropped into an odd crouch and held his hands in front of his body, his fingers forming rigid claws.
“So!” Simms was smiling. “You’ve had some training! Good. I wouldn’t want this to be too easy!”
“It won’t be,” Yama assured him.
Lieutenant Simms suddenly made a grunting sound and swept his left foot up, aiming at Yama’s head.
His movements smooth and coordinated, Yama stepped to one side, avoiding the leg blow, and spun, his own left leg lashing out and catching Simms in the stomach.
The officer doubled over and hastily backpedaled, quickly regaining his composure.
“Not bad,” Lieutenant Simms commented.
Yama didn’t respond.
Simms, irritated, unleased a series of sweeping kicks, none of which landed. Yama parried them with his forearms, giving ground slightly as Simms pressed his assault.
Adam was astonished. He’d never seen anyone fight like these two were doing.
They were standing still again, both in unusual postures. The officer appeared to be somewhat worried.
“You’re a real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” Simms quipped. “Now that I’m warmed up, what say we get this fiasco over with?”
The next flurry was almost too quick for Adam to keep track of. He could tell Simms was desperately attempting to break Yama’s guard using a fascinating combination of hand and foot strikes, not one of which seemed to do any good. Yama, however, was backing off as he deftly blocked the blows. He abruptly found his back against the house.
Simms, winded, had stopped for a moment. “No place to go, eh?” he taunted. “Too bad. Any last words you’d like engraved on your tombstone?”
Yama still didn’t answer.
Simms tried a combination strike, his left leg flicking out at the same instant his right hand, the fingers extended and hard, lanced toward Yama’s throat.
Adam saw Yama twist his lower body, dodging the leg, as his left forearm came around in a half-circle and deflected the hand blow. Before the officer could recover his balance, Yama drove his right hand out and up, his fingers in a paw-like shape, driving it into the officer’s nose.
There was a loud crunching noise and Simms staggered, crimson spurting from his collapsed nasal passages.
Yama never gave him a chance. The man in blue brought both of his hands close to his chest, the fingers forming into steely claws. He lunged, savagely sweeping upward, the heels of his palms slamming against his opponent’s chin and forcefully snapping his head back.
Adam clearly heard a cracking sound.
Lieutenant Simms stiffened and took one giant, lurching step before crashing to the ground.
Yama walked to his weapons and reclaimed them.
Adam rose and ran outside, into his father’s arms, hugging him close as his mom put her arms around both of them. “I thought they would kill you!” Adam exclaimed, tears filling his eyes.
“They would have, eventually,” Seth replied, “if not for Yama.” He gazed at the man in blue. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you.”
Yama walked up to the porch. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”