The Secret Society
of Hit Men - Part 4©
By The Hit Man
The society had made an error in judgment. With David Mannheim, a child had been sent in to do a man's job.
The new team, again comprised of four men, was of a much higher level of expertise and ability. They wouldn't make the same mistake Mateo had by underestimating the capture target. A quick sweep verified that other than the clerk who had already been dispatched, the capture target was the only other person on the premises. Once inside, the lock on the front door was engaged. No desire for a non-essential to come wandering into the middle of the operation.
Using simple nods and hand motions, the team was moved into position. Ian and Glen, brothers from Ireland previously involved with the IRA, moved to the ends of the aisles on each side of the target.
Roberto, a brooding hulk from Romania who had been in the protection racket with the Russian mafia, stood by the cigarette case, his interest obviously in picking out the best product for the money. That left the team lead, Bertram, a former Army Ranger from the United States. He was now positioned behind the counter, replacing the clerk who lay unconscious on the floor beneath his feet.
While they might have appeared calm and composed, the team was a bundle of nerves as they waited for the capture target to finish his tasks and come within range. They weren't in a hurry; only anxious to perform the duty they had been assigned.
Unaware of the drama unfolding around him, David finished filling the hand basket he carried and headed toward the store front. Aware of his surroundings, he didn't find it odd that others were in the store. But what he did find odd was that Franz, the store clerk was no longer behind the counter, replaced instead by a hulk of a man, obviously physically unsuited for being a store clerk. David's senses went on full alert, especially after what had just occurred in the laundrymart. He stepped up to the counter.
"Wo ist Franz, die Nacht Sekretärin? Und wer sind Sie?" Speaking his native tongue he inquired where Franz was and who the hell was he, the man behind the counter.
"Ich bin Heinz," Bertram replied in flawless German dialect, a broad smile on his face. "Franz hatte eine Familie Dringlichkeit, seine Frau oder etwas." David returned the smile of the man behind the counter, all the while his innards turning cold as he knew Franz was widowed and had no wife. Bertram noted that though the capture target smiled, his body was as tense as a wild cat ready to pounce. It was imperative that the capture team made the first move. An almost imperceptible motion and the team moved into action.
Bertram leaned forward and grasped David's arms at the wrists, pulling him forward against the counter. Roberto moved in from one side to help pin him. David's arms might have been momentarily unavailable but his feet and legs weren't. With seemingly little effort, a leg shot out, the foot smashing into Roberto's torso just below his sternum, with enough force to send him flying backwards, his considerable bulk crashing into the cigarette stand, bending and twisting it, the small packs flying in every direction as they and Roberto fell to the floor.
Ian and Glen moved in. Each doubled a fist and slammed it into David's exposed kidney's. David howled with the pain as each hit him again and again. David knew he had to do something fast or he would soon be unconscious. His legs flew out backwards, his heels managing to find their targets as if run by a global positioning system. David was more than satisfied to hear the sounds of agony as his feet connected with the jaw bone of each man. Ian and Glen were knocked back, both crashing into end of aisle displays, product boxes crushed and exploded by their weight.
The odds were now a little more in his favor and David heaved backward against the strength of the man who still held his wrists. But Roberto was back up, not even stunned by the blow to his chest. He closed in swiftly behind the capture target and wrapped his considerably muscled arms up through the targets, locking his hands behind the target's head. Nodding that he had control to Bertram, Bertram released his grip and in a flash was over the counter, now standing in front of the capture target. He cocked his arm and like a shot fired from cannon, delivered his fist hard into the targets gut just below the belly button. Bertram was pleased to hear the target grunt. He prepared another cannon shot.
To David, the arms and hands that struggled to hold him were no more than a minor inconvenience. What amazed him was the speed and agility demonstrated by Heinz, the man behind the counter, as he jumped over to stand in front of David. What David hadn't been prepared for was the force with which the man was able to hit him. The blow dug in deep, causing David to grunt, something he wasn't used to doing when someone hit him. Near panic, David exerted all the pressure he could against the arms that held him. The man holding him pressed back, just as David desired. Using the man behind him as brace, David raised his legs and slammed them into Heinz chest. He hit the man just right so he was pitched back over the counter head first, feet following fast behind. He then hoisted his legs up again and gave a huge shove off the counter, toppling both he and the man who held him from behind. And to his credit, they managed to plow right into Ian and Glen as well. The four of them went down in a heap.
Bertram hadn't been prepared for the blow to the chest. Caught off guard, he was on his way over the counter almost before he realized what had happened. This capture target was one tough customer. As he came back to his feet, he saw Roberto, Ian and Glen going down, the target in their midst. Once again, Bertram cleared the counter intent on joining the fray.
The grip on his arms loosened, David slammed his elbow into the ribs of the man now underneath him. Again and the man's arms fell away. But as he came to his feet, one of the other men managed to throw a couple of blows that rocked him to his foundation; one to his midsection and one to his jaw. These men weren't fooling around. David returned the favor, while at the same time, driving his foot into the gut of the man still on the ground. Someone else tried to grab him from behind. David reached over his shoulder and grabbing the man by the hair and neck, threw him over his shoulder. He crashed into the one who had punched David a couple of times. Suddenly a hand grabbed David under the chin, the grip choking him, another in his groin. He was bodily hoisted into the air and tossed a couple of aisles over, bringing the metal forms down with him. It had been the man from behind the desk again. He knew it was a lost cause but David came out of the aisle swinging like a mad man. Fortunately for the capture team, he slipped in a large puddle of spilled liquid. He lost his balance and went down, catching his chin hard on the tiled floor. As he saw stars for a moment, Bertram took the advantage. Slipping a taser from his belt, he applied it to the targets neck. A few jolts of electricity and the capture target was out like a light.
Roberto checked the exterior and it was clear. The four men carried the capture target to their vehicle and placed him in the trunk. Within moments of the police arriving to a silent alarm at the store, the four men were moving their capture into a safe house, one of many around the world maintained by the society. An invitation would be going out; a call for all members desiring to participate in the next session to appear.
As for the police, all they found was an unconscious clerk and a destroyed market. The money was even still in the cash drawer. However, they also found the mess left at the Waschsalon nearby. Both perplexes for the police.
David came too slowly. His jaw hurt like hell and so did his neck. He tried to move, only to discover he couldn't. Glancing around he found he was chained up to some beams, his arms and legs spread-eagle. A dim light bulb glared in his eyes. He heard someone stirring behind him. He tried to turn his head but couldn't turn it far enough to see who was there. A blow caught him in the kidney, the burn ferocious but controllable. He was determined to show now quarter. Slowly a face appeared in his vision.
"Gut, sind Sie wach," the man said. Yes, he was awake. David recognized him as the man who had held him from behind. "My name is Roberto." Seeing the man spoke English, David responded accordingly.
"And why would I care what your name is?"
"I want you to know who is going to defeat these fine muscles of yours." Roberto dropped into a boxer's stance and began to punch David's abs. But this was something David was used to and it would take a lot more than this man's punches to even start to penetrate his abs. After all, he and his friends didn't have punch sessions for nothing. It was exactly such training that would now see him through this, of that David was confident. Roberto would never admit how hard he found the captures muscles and how as he continued punching, it was his own fists that were beginning to hurt as his target made no show of being affected in any way. He picked up the speed and power, trying to make a dent, but soon his own strength was flagged. David smiled down at him. Angry, Roberto blasted one to his groin. Now that hurt, David admitted, but only to himself, not loosing his smile. Roberto walked over to the door and pushed a button. David didn't hear anything so he assumed it sent a signal out to somewhere else. Soon enough he was proved right as the man he knew as Heinz and the two others from the market stepped from a door nearby.
Heinz, as David knew him, stepped up to Roberto and grabbed his red and sore hands in his own. It was obvious from Roberto's face that the grip on his hands hurt quite a bit.
"What have you been doing Roberto, moving ahead without the team?" Roberto starred at Bertram, his hatred at being ordered around obvious in his demeanor. Bertram starred at Roberto for a moment. He then hit him so hard with a stiff upper cut that Roberto was unconscious long before he hit the floor. Good, David thought to himself, insubordination would not be tolerated.
"Glen, see what you can do with our guest," Heinz ordered. The younger of the two remaining men stepped up. His first hit was soft; the second calculating. David was impressed by that. The first hit caused David to tighten his musculature; the second a measurement to find out just how hard the musculature was. Glen then set his pace and power accordingly, throwing totally random shots against the targets torso. It took a bit but soon enough David began to feel the blows digging in deeper, his own breathing a little more forced. That's when the guard changed.
"Ian, your turn." Again, it was Heinz that gave the orders. Ian followed the same routine Glen had. Only his measurements were different for Glen had done a damn fine job of preparing the target. Right off, Ian's jabs were more powerful, more calculated, more destructive. Instead of random shots, he picked an area and worked it over until it started to soften appreciably. Little by little, David could feel himself losing control, no longer able to keep his whole musculature hard; now even finding it hard to measure his breathing.
"Enough," Heinz barked out. Ian stopped. David could only pray it was over for the moment. Of course, he soon discovered he was wrong. Heinz himself was now stepping up for a turn. David tried to hide the fear. He had already felt this man's fist and it hadn't been pleasant. He braced himself as best he could under the circumstances.
"You might as well know the truth; my name is Bertram," Heinz said. "Our job is to break you down, chew you up, and spit you out. It's nothing personal. Try to hold out as best you can." David got the feeling the man was apologizing for what he was about to do and so tightened his musculature, determined to withstand whatever was thrown at him. It didn't matter though because when Bertram's first blow connected, all of David's resolve flew out the window. As with the blow at the market, David had never been hit like this before, overpowering blows that drove all the way in past any muscle that tried to stand in its way. Within moments, David was slumped, held up only by the binding chains, his breathing ragged and infrequent as Bertram blasted away at his gut. David willed for the man to stop but it was as if he were a demon, beyond any control of mortal man. The fists pummeled and punished, dug and dipped, beat and battered, until finally David could stand no more, slipping in and out of consciousness. With one final gasp for control, he glanced over at Roberto who still lay unconscious on the floor.
"I lasted a lot longer than that poor bastard," he managed to push out through gritted teeth. Bertram smiled at him, a kind and benevolent look.
"Then let's put you out of your misery for the moment," Bertram replied, not showing any strain at the work he had been doing. He hit David low and inside, driving any remaining air out of his lungs. He then locked a hand on David's neck preventing him from getting any new oxygen. David felt panic only for an instant before he passed from the conscious world to join Roberto in his world, that of the unconscious.