Chapter 7

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Reese didn't know how long he'd been out, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. The smell of burned rubber and gas was still heavy in the air. He could feel warm, sticky blood dripping down the side of his head even before the source of the blood began sending an entire army of pain signals to his brain. Groaning, he also noted that breathing aggravated his battered ribs and that he must have hit is left knee against the dashboard during the crash as it began to burn and throb in rhythm to his heartbeat. Unconsciousness was beckoning him again, however as alluring as total oblivion sounded at the moment he knew he had to fight it. Reese forced his eyes open, and quickly shut them again; the world was still nauseously spinning.

He heard footsteps drawing nearer until they were right beside his shattered window and he listened to the breathing of the person checking out the wreckage.

"Damn it," a deep voice said, "he's not in the car."

There was a pause, and the sound of a second set of steps drawing near to the passenger side filled the silence. There are at least two of them.

"Hold on," the voice beside John's window said. Apparently he was only privy to one side of a conversation. Warm fingers touched his neck, checking for a pulse. "He's alive." There was another pause. "Roger. We're taking him with us."

The car shook as Deep-voice tried to open the driver's door. "It's stuck. Can you get to him on your side?"

The passenger door opened with a jerk, then the car shook again as Deep-voice's silent partner proceeded to cautiously climb onto the seat. The man lifted John's head up. "Sure he's still alive? Doesn't look so good."

He let go off Reese's head, which limply dropped back down again. The man then tried to unbuckle John's seat belt, but ended up having to cut it. As soon as the seat belt released its hold over the ex-op's torso John let himself topple sideways and right into the man's arms.

He was not exactly pulled gently out of his seat - his head, ribs and knee screamed bloody murder at the man-handling. Deep-voice had come around the car, and he bent forward to take John's legs after his partner had almost completely pulled him out of the vehicle. With one fluid and certainly unexpected motion Reese delivered a kick to Deep-voice's temple, driving the man's head against the car's metal frame. John didn't wait to watch him crumble to the ground. As the man holding onto his shoulders stumbled backwards Reese used the momentum of the kick to twist his body around and slip out of the man's grasp. Landing belly-down on the asphalt the ex-op immediately pushed himself off the ground, and charged the black-clad man in a low tackle, driving his right shoulder into his opponent's stomach.

The impact was bone-jarring. Instead of soft flesh and muscle John's shoulder connected with the hard material of a bullet-proof vest, turning the attack into a more painful experience than he had anticipated. He had, however, attacked with enough force to drive the man off his feet, sending them both sprawling on the ground.

Reese tried to push himself up, but the splitting pain shooting through his head rendered him momentarily immobile. He pressed his eyes shut as bright stars exploded in his vision and his stomach did a summersault. John knew he was losing precious seconds - seconds he did not have.

A heavy weight suddenly pressed down on his lower back, forcing John flat onto the ground. He struggled to get out from underneath the weight, but the man on top of him just pressed down harder. An arm snaked around his neck from behind, gripping him in a tight choke-hold. John's head felt like it was about to explode. With every passing second that his air supply was cut off his heartbeat seemed to be getting louder and faster until all he heard was a continuous roar. He gave up his fruitless tugging at the arm locked around his neck and blindly groped above his head for the man's face. John's vision went out of focus and he would have screamed at the pain the strain to his neck and spine caused, but all he managed was a wheezing gurgle.

Finally his hands found what they were looking for and with his last remnants of strength Reese pressed his thumbs into the man's eyes and twisted. His assailant screamed in pain and let go of John's neck to clutch at his eyes. Bucking the man off his back, Reese scrambled away. He collapsed after a few feet, coughing and wheezing. His sight went in and out of focus and this time he couldn't calm his rebelling stomach. Losing the meager meal did make John feel slightly better but he needed precious seconds to catch his breath. Eventually he rolled onto his side and watched with dismay as the other man staggered back onto his feet.

Why can't you just stay down? John thought, and with a deep breath he ordered his battered body to obey. He was still struggling to get to his feet when the man came at him. Reese let himself drop to the side to avoid the kick aimed at his mid-section and with a quick twist of his body swiped the other man's feet out from underneath him. The man stumbled and fought to keep his balance, giving Reese enough time to finally get to his feet and to adopt a fighting stance.

John blinked away the vertigo he'd felt since waking up in the car after the crash. As the man drew nearer with fists raised, the ex-op fixed him with a stare and waited for signs in his assailant's body language that would precede an attack. The man's left leg slid forward and the thrusting of his hip towards Reese let him know that the assailant's fist was soon to follow. John blocked the attack, deflecting the force of the blow with his left forearm, and delivered a quick jab to the man's ribs with his right fist. The pain shooting through his fingers reminded him a little too late of the vest the man wore.

Taking advantage of the opening in Reese's defences, the man's right fist flew towards John's face, and connected with full force to his jaw. A fist to the stomach drove the air out of the ex-op's lungs and he reflexively curled in around the pain. But before the man's fists were able to connect with the base of John's skull, he drove his shoulder into the man's torso, pushing him away and off-balance. The vest gave his attacker an unfair advantage, but it merely meant that Reese had to aim higher.

John closed the gap between them, side-stepped another attempt at a punch to his face and grabbed a hold of the man's arm. In one fluid motion Reese pulled his assailant towards himself, simultaneously took one more step forward, twisted his hip to gain momentum and smashed his elbow against the other man's temple with a very audible crunch.

The move had the desired effect and the man dropped to the ground like a stone. Reese stood over him, supporting himself on his thighs and breathing heavily. He was starting to regret that he hadn't appreciated the quiet start to this now already very long and strenuous day. "Why didn't you just stay down the first time?" he asked in between gulping breaths. Not really expecting an answer he straightened with a groan and patted his pockets in search of his phone.

There was a popping sound behind him, then pain flared up in his back as what felt like a bunch of needles pierced through his scrubs top and into his skin. A millisecond later the pain increased a hundredfold, as electric current coursed through his body, burning his skin and causing his muscles to spasm. When the current finally let up, John's eyes rolled back into his skull and he limply collapsed over the unconscious body of his previous attacker.

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To be continued...