Chapter 7
There was pure venom in Khan's words. Mara was sure none of the Rowen employees had recognized it as such—they probably thought he was just taunting Jonathan. But if it weren't extremely unprofessional, Mara would have pulled every bill from her wallet right then and there, and put it all on Khan.
Khan held his fists ready, but did not attack. Of course, he waited for Jonathan. And when Jonathan lunged, Khan ducked easily to the side, spinning as he did and delivering a back-kick to Jonathan's spine. Jonathan yelped, grasping his back and stumbling. Mara saw the momentary grin that spread across Khan's lips.
"Sorry, chap. Don't know my own strength," he said with genuine pleasure, and every single one of The 72 laughed quietly. Of course he knew his own strength.
This statement obviously angered Jonathan. He swung again, this time pummeling with fists quicker than Mara had ever seen any man do so.
Any man except Khan.
Khan deflected his punches easily with slightly open palms, dodging and moving like he was on a springboard. And when he finally attacked, it took the breath from Mara's chest.
He lunged at Jonathan's stomach with all the force of a linebacker, tackling him to the ground. Mara could hear the wind leave Jonathan's lungs as he was hit, but he continued grappling with Khan. Almost everyone standing close stepped nearer, and Mara could see the smiles returned to The 72. They wanted him to beat Jonathan. Badly.
Mara twitched as she watched the fists fly. Blood began to spread on the mat, and it was unclear whose it was.
The grappling shifted suddenly as Jonathan got an arm around Khan's shoulder, pulling himself to the side and twisting around to kneel behind Khan. He managed a choke hold around Khan's throat. For a split second, it seemed to worry him.
Mara saw the smile at the corner of his lips just before he moved.
He lurched forward, using Jonathan's unbreakable hold as leverage as he threw him over his own head, slamming him to his back on the mat in front of him. Jonathan choked and wheezed as the breath left him once again. His grip on Khan's neck broke almost instantaneously.
Before Khan could use the opportunity, Jonathan pulled something from his pants' pocket. It looked to Mara like an electric shaver…
With shock, she quickly found out. Jonathan slammed the object against Khan's chest, and Khan cried out, falling violently to the mat. Several of The 72 looked like they would jump in. A select few of them looked ready to kill Jonathan. It worried Mara. It was Alpha dedication. To the extreme.
Jonathan smiled, getting slowly to his feet. He held the weapon out for all to see, wiggling it back and forth proudly. A Taser, that much was clear now.
"What are you doi…" Mara began to object. Only when Pierce held up a hand to silence her, did she realize she had taken two long strides toward the downed Khan.
"I want him to learn something from this," Pierce said.
"What?" Khan gasped, a hand over his heart. His hands shook as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. "That all humans cheat?"
"No, that most humans are going to compensate for your superiority with the use of weapons. You—unarmed—must be better than an armed human," Pierce replied quietly.
The lesson obviously made sense to Khan, but Mara could still see anger at having had to learn it in such a way. His eyes burned with fury as he turned back to Jonathan. Jonathan was smiling, waving the Taser at Khan tauntingly.
Mara had half a mind to tell him how stupid that was, but the other half wanted him to fail.
Khan leapt forward again, this time with the appropriate knowledge. When Jonathan lunged at him with the Taser, Khan dodged, letting Jonathan's arm go past him and grabbing the wrist once it was completely extended. With a violent jerk, he snapped the Taser from Jonathan's grasp, and it fell with a thump to the mat. Placing one hand on Jonathan's collar bone, Khan pushed him back, throwing a leg up and slamming it down on his chest. He used the momentum to carry both of them to the ground—Jonathan on his back, Khan on his.
With a leg on Jonathan's chest and a hand still grasping his wrist, it was incredibly easy to yank him into an arm bar. Jonathan's face was twisted in pain, but he still tried to struggle from Khan's grasp. It was like trying to wrestle with a locomotive.
Khan leaned forward, looking down at Jonathan's face. "Compensate for this," he snarled, and yanked back hard.
Jonathan screamed as a loud pop was heard from his arm. Pierce rushed forward, followed by a few others. To Mara's slight horror, Khan still wasn't letting go.
Pierce and three other technicians grabbed him, pulling him back.
"That's enough!" Pierce cried, yanking him back and leaving Jonathan in a crumpled heap, screaming and holding his arm.
As Pierce held him back, Khan resembled a dog shown his next meal. He didn't want to be restrained. He was fighting Pierce for another go at Jonathan. For the chance to really tear him apart.
"Khan!" Pierce cried against him, and it finally got his attention. He calmed, his eyes focusing as he turned slowly to face Pierce.
"That's enough," Pierce said again.
Khan looked shaken, as if he had been in a fit of rage. He sank back, and the technicians finally released him. Mara rushed forward, kneeling in front of him as she saw two other doctors rushing to Jonathan's aid.
"Khan," Mara said cautiously. "Look at me."
He looked up at her, slowly, like he was afraid of what he would see. She only displayed worry.
"Would you see him back to his stateroom," Pierce panted, standing and straightening his shirt and tie. "Check him over, ensure that the Taser didn't do any heart or circulatory damage."
"Of course," Mara said, standing. She held a hand out to help him to his feet, and he took it. She wouldn't realize the enormity of that until much later.
Once in his room, Khan paced. It was slow and measured, like he was trying not to punch a hole in the reinforced walls. His face was flat and emotionless, but Mara knew he himself was nothing close.
"Are you alright?" Mara asked, closing the door behind her.
"Of course I'm alright," he responded shortly.
"That's not what I mean," she said, and he stopped. He didn't look at her, but he visibly attempted to take calm breaths.
"Yes," he said simply.
"You don't look it," she said. "You were very angry."
"Of course I was," he said, his tone raising as he turned. "He pulled a weapon on me."
"You expected that he wouldn't?" she asked.
"No, I considered every angle of that fight," he replied curtly. "But he behaved like a coward. He saw that I was going to best him, and cheated."
"Men cheat," Mara said, taking Khan's wrist and leading him to the bed. She forced him to sit, and took some gauze and alcohol from her medical bag. "It's in their nature."
She soaked a gauze swab, and lifted it to his face, where blood rested on his nose and lips.
"That's not necessary," he said, stopping her hand.
"You may not be bleeding anymore, but you're still covered in blood," she said, pushing his hand away. He let her, and it was another subtle move that she catalogued for later.
"You got angry," she repeated as she wiped his nose and lip. Of course, there was no cut beneath the blood smears.
"He insulted me. He and his team went to so much work to create someone like me, then he acted like he could have actually hoped to beat me," Khan said, looking past her.
"Oh, so you're angry because he belittled the work Rowen put into you? No. He was an insult to you personally, and you knew it," she said, and he finally looked at her. It was the stare of a predator, and she knew why—she had nailed it.
"You don't actually think he would have truly hurt you, given the chance… do you?" Mara asked, laying the bloody gauze on the floor and taking out her stethoscope.
"Of course I do. Men become beasts when fighting others," he said.
"You are worth millions to him," Mara replied, looping her stethoscope around her neck. "If there's anything men can be motivated by, it's sex and money."
The comment was meant to be made under her breath, but Khan raised an eyebrow at her.
"Sorry, that was unprofess…"
"You think I'm not?" Khan interrupted as she pushed the stethoscope up his shirt and laid it against his chest.
"What use could you have for money?" she asked, listening for his heartbeat.
"They created us as young men and women in peak physical condition, most of us no older than what you would call thirty. I wasn't talking about money," he said with finality.
Mara completely lost count, and the stethoscope fell from her hand. She looked up at him, and the same sly grin was gracing his lips.
"I've startled you," he said with a knowing raise of the eyebrows.
"I, uh… I… yes," she said with an uncomfortable laugh, realizing that, while she had dropped the stethoscope, her hand was still up his shirt… resting on his chest.
She pulled away from him, pushing her hair behind her ear nervously.
"Why?" he asked, watching as she fiddled with her medical supplies… doing anything to occupy herself and avert her eyes.
"I… well, I…" she began, clearing her throat as she placed her stethoscope back in her bag.
"You didn't think I knew those things, did you?" he asked, standing. The move made her extremely aware of how small his room was.
"Well, I… I didn't think they would have taught you…" she began, a newly acquired stutter forcing extreme underlexiclization.
"They didn't," he said, handing her the bottle of alcohol, which she had left on the floor at his feet.
She took it, suddenly aware that she was actively trying not to touch his skin.
"Now," he said in a franker tone, straightening. "If you'll excuse me, I have a socially mandated apology to make to one Mr. Jonathan Harris."
With that, he slipped past her, leaving her with the knowledge that she probably needed to be taking her own pulse.
Author's note: Yes, there is a reason that name sounds familiar. I did it on purpose. Just wait.