Chapter 2:
Bruce had never been hit so hard in his life. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was and he wasn't even sure he remembered who he was.
"You okay kid?" asked the very large man who'd just hit him like a Mack truck.
"Y-yeah, Mr. Grant" Bruce replied in a very shaky voice as he struggled to get back to his feet. "Just learning to take a hit."
"Ha!" Grant laughed while a trainer reached over the ropes to give him a puff on his cigar. "You got guts, kid. I'll give you that!"
Bruce put on the fake smile he'd gotten so good at as a child when Alfred insisted that he "try not to brood" in front of whatever guest had finally gotten around to coming to pay their respects. He was too busy studying the Champ's release to indulge in idle chatter. Instead he pushed his mouth guard back in and made his way across the ring.
Ted Grant was a hulk of a man. He stood only slightly taller than Bruce at about six foot one, but easily outweighed him by half again, tipping the scales at nearly two-hundred and twenty five pounds according to his last weigh in. His arms were like tree trunks, but they weren't the bulky show things of a body builder. Each muscle was shaped for a single purpose, to land a devastating punch.
Bruce did his best to mimic the powerhouse swings coming his direction, but it was easy to see that the Champ was holding back, and as much as Bruce wanted to see him at full power, his skull was thankful the large man was taking pity on him.
Pity or not, though, it didn't mean Bruce wasn't going to get knocked out if he wasn't careful. Despite his crude nature and the fact that he was taking swigs of his pint of porter each time he waited for Bruce to pick himself up off the mat, when he started to box, he was like a wild cat, completely focused on his prey.
Seeing another massive right hook coming his way, Bruce deftly dodged the blow and unloaded a solid body shot on the champ. Although he might not be able to hit with as much power as the big man, he'd trained in martial arts for most of his life, starting with Alfred when he was barely seven years old. He knew how to dodge and how to strike.
His victory was short lived however as all of his past training didn't account for having oversized, padded boxing gloves on and Ted Grant, though surprised by the hit, wasn't fazed by it and quickly answered with an overhead left that left Bruce wondering what day it was and how he managed to find himself on the mat half way across the ring.
"You're not too bright, huh?" a blonde haired girl asked from the floor beside the ring as Bruce tried to push himself back up.
"Excuse me?" Bruce asked as he tried to shake the cobwebs from his head.
"You don't pick a fist fight with a grizzly," she replied, shaking her head and grinning like she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world. "He's just slightly out of your weight class. Next time, try not to let him hit you."
"Thanks..." Bruce answered sardonically as he wiled himself back to his feet and leaned back against the ropes.
"Okay, Kid," Grant called to him as he downed the last of his beer. "I think that's enough for one day. I don't need a lawsuit for givin' a kid a concussion. I'm sure these Brits have some law against that."
"I'm fine Mr. Grant," Bruce assured him. He wasn't ready to give up just yet.
"Sorry kid, but enough is enough," Ted dismissed him. "My niece there will take you back to the locker room to get cleaned up."
"Do I get a say in this?" the blonde girl chirped.
"Nope," Grant replied with a grin. "You know what I had to go through to get your mom to agree to this little trip across the pond? I think you can help out our young friend here, Dinah."
With a hearty sigh, the Dinah turned to Bruce and motioned for him to follow her.
"Come on," she instructed. "I guess after getting your head knocked around like that, you probably could use a guide back to the lockers."
"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around in a boxing gym?" Bruce asked as he took off his gloves and headgear.
"I'm sixteen," Dinah shot back over her shoulder. "And besides, can you think of a better place to learn to punch?"
"You're learning to box?" Bruce practically scoffed.
He regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth and even more so when the pretty young girl whirled around, giving him a glare that froze him in his tracks.
"What's wrong with that?" she half shouted at him. "Just because I'm a girl I can't box?"
"Well, no," Bruce answered. "But you're what? Ninety pounds, soaking wet?"
Dinah was maybe five foot six. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of workout shorts that let him see that, despite her young age, she was extremely toned. In fact she was extremely attractive, a fact not lost on the many young men training in the gym, though no doubt the threat of her uncle was what kept the stares to a minimum.
"I'm ninety-three pounds, and I could still kick your ass!" she pointedly responded.
"I don't mean to insult," Bruce replied, putting his hands up in surrender. "I just meant it's hard to put much force behind a punch when you have so little body-weight to put into it."
Dinah raised one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows at him then, like an idea suddenly struck her, she smiled, grabbed him by the wrist and took off at a half jog towards the heavy bags, practically dragging Bruce along with her.
"Here," she said, pulling him into position behind a heavy bag. "Let me show you just how hard this 'little girl' can punch.
Bruce had learned a half dozen techniques to increase the power behind a punch and he was well aware that even someone small could learn where to hit to do significant damage, but how hard one could hit was simply limited by physics. There was no doubt that this girl was in great shape for her age and could probably hit harder than most sixteen year old boys, never mind girls, but even this heavy bag outweighed her. None the less, Bruce decided to do as she asked. There was no point in insulting her further.
"You don't have to prove anything to me," Bruce said as he half-heatedly gripped the large bag to steady it.
"No, I don't," Dinah replied with a wicked grin. "But it'll be fun!" and with that she released her best punch on the unsuspecting bag.
Completely caught off guard by the sheer force of the strike, Bruce nearly lost his balance when the bag swung back against him, not an easy feat to accomplish when the young man in question had spent months learning to balance on the top of small wooden stakes.
"Whoa," Bruce let out a startled gasp. "What was that?"
"That," Dinah replied with a victory grin across her face, "was a definite 'I told you so'."
"Okay, I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong," Bruce conceded. "Now show me how you did it."
The fiery blonde was only too happy to show the now humbled older boy just how she was able to put him in his place.
"It's called Jireugi," she explained. "About a year ago, I broke my knuckle on my uncle Ted's jaw in a sparring match, 'boxers knuckle' they call it," she showed him the back of her hand and how the last knuckle sank a bit lower than the others. "The Jireugi is a way for a small person to hit a big person without breaking their hand. And it packs a mean punch!"
For the next twenty minutes, Dinah went about instructing Bruce on exactly how the punch worked. Years of training let him catch on quicker than most, but like any new technique, it wasn't going to be perfected in a day.
"You know, you're pretty good for a rich boy," Dinah said, almost as though she hadn't intended the last part as an insult. "How come you want to learn to box so bad? Most rich boys I've met are more interested in spending mommy and daddy's money to impress the girls."
"Happens to you a lot, huh?" Bruce scoffed. "I may be a 'rich boy' but I've got other priorities than impressing some girl."
If Dinah was taken aback by his response, she didn't show it and any retort she might have offered was interrupted by the sounds of breaking glass as nearly two dozen men poured into the gym. Some dropping through the building's massive skylight, others coming in every doorway and window.
Every exit was covered.
Armed men attacking a gym in and of itself was strange, but what really struck Bruce as odd was that these men weren't armed with guns, they were armed with swords, sickles, knives and other martial weapons. All of the men were dressed in modified Shinobi shozoku, the traditional outfit of ninjitsu, but with body armour covering their torso, shins and forearms.
"Ted Grant," one of the men called out as he approached the ring where the champ was now sparing with a more sizable opponent. "You are to come with us. Now."
"Like hell," Grant replied with grin. "You want me? Come and get me!"
"We were told you may be uncooperative," the masked man replied entirely too calmly. "We were also told you would do anything to protect your young niece."
"Touch her and they'll be picking your teeth up on the other side of the English Channel!" Grant yelled as he hopped over the top rope to the floor and charged at his would be kidnaper.
Apparently taking their cue, a half dozen of the masked men started moving in on Dinah. Bruce almost felt sorry for the first man that tried to grab her. No doubt they made the same mistake he had and thought her a harmless little girl and, just like Bruce, he quickly realized his mistake. Though Bruce was thankful his lesson had been less severe, as he didn't imagine that man was ever going to be anything but a soprano again.
The remaining five men would not be so easily caught off guard as they charged in. Dinah landed a roundhouse kick to the face of one of her attackers before two others managed to grab and restrain her. No doubt they assumed it was over, but they had dismissed Bruce as just another of the frightened young boxers in the gym, a mistake that would cost them dearly.
Bruce quickly kicked one of the men in the back of the knee, dropping him to all fours before striking him across the face with a devastating elbow. The remaining four men of the group quickly turned their attention to their new found opponent and Dinah took full advantage, slamming her head back into the face of the man holding her before once again demonstrating just how effective her Jireugi punch could be as she whirled around and unleashed it into the man's chest, sending him crashing to the floor.
"I thought you weren't much of a fighter?" Dinah questioned as she moved beside Bruce, facing off against the last three men like an old west showdown.
"I'm not much of a boxer," Bruce explained. "There're no rules here."
The remaining three men drew their weapons in preparation for their attack. The man on Bruce's right drew a pair of escrima sticks from the holster on his thigh. The man on his left chose a meteor hammer; an extremely difficult weapon the master, the meteor hammer normally consisted of two weights attached by a long rope or chain, but this one seemed to use a type of flexible cable that allowed it to stretch slightly as he spun it. The last man was more traditional in his choice of weapons, drawing a Katana sword from the holster on his back. Although the weapon was the least exotic, it was without a doubt the most deadly of the three.
"Rules are good," Dinah quipped with a bit of fear in her voice. "Like no weapons. I like that rule."
"Stay behind me," Bruce ordered as he deftly dodged the first strike of the meteor hammer that flew towards his head.
The man with the escrima sticks was the next to attack, and Bruce took advantage of his shorter range by quickly positioning the man between himself and the men with the meteor hammer and sword. Escrima sticks could easily be deadly if used properly, but they were by far the least lethal of the weapons in question.
"Like hell!" Dinah defiantly shouted as she kicked the man in the ribs. That girl was definitely going to be trouble.
Taking advantage of the man's surprise, Bruce quickly grabbed his arm and swung him around, using one of the escrima sticks to block an oncoming strike from the Katana and capitalizing on the momentary entanglement to release a spin kick to the head of the sword wielding man. It wasn't a finishing blow by any means, but it did knock him back and buy a bit of time.
Once again Bruce found himself dodging the flying weight of the meteor hammer as it soared through the air, entirely too close to Bruce's head. That weapon was the biggest threat at the moment because of the range advantage it gave.
Avoiding the hammer having put Bruce momentary off balance, he soon felt the pain of an escrima stick striking his ribs and had to quickly adjust himself to avoid a follow up blow to the face. In his lessons at the dojo, Ben had often used escrima sticks as part of their training, and the sting of their strike was not an unfamiliar sensation to him, but certainly not one he enjoyed.
Grabbing the left arm of his attacker, Bruce pulled the man towards himself, elbowing him hard in the ribs and head butting him in the face, sending him staggering back.
Dinah was currently using the heavy bag to avoid the swinging weight of the meteor hammer, and though Bruce wasn't sure if it was intentional, she'd drawn the man in close. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Bruce launched himself at the man in a very unglamorous tackle, knocking him from his feet. A quick series of elbows and fists left the man bloody and unconscious.
"Watch out!" he heard Dinah call to him just as he saw the glint off the Katana coming towards him. He moved quickly enough to avoid the majority of the strike, but the blood pouring down the back of his shoulder told him he didn't miss it completely. His first battle scar. His first reminder of what a mistake could cost him.
Another slice from the Katana sent Bruce rolling across the floor. He pushed himself to one knee and grabbed the meteor hammer from the unconscious man beside him, quickly bringing the strong cable up to block another attack from the sword and using a sweep kick to knock the swordsman on his back.
The man perfectly executed a back roll to bring himself back to his feet, the two warriors now standing about six feet apart. Bruce let the meteor hammer's weight drop to a few inches above the floor and began to spin it.
"Ha, that's no child's toy, boy," the man laughed.
Bruce quickly answered his taunt by letting the hammer fly and forcing him to dodge the deadly weapon. Not letting up on his temporary advantage, Bruce charged forward, pulling the hammer back through the air, then jumping and spinning pulling the hammer behind him and yanking it down with such devastating force that it sent shards of the hard concrete floor flying as it impacted. Having to avoid the strike itself and deal with the tiny stone shards that flew out in its wake, his opponent had staggered backwards and Bruce wasted no time pressing his charge forward. He slapped the man's sword arm aside with his left hand and struck him with a powerful right hook to the face, putting to use much of the punching lessons he'd received today.
As Bruce stood over the now unconscious swordsman, he turned in surprise at the sound of clapping.
"Not bad kid," Ted Grant said with a grin. "Looks like you might have a bit of a boxer in you after all."
Bruce looked around to see Dinah standing triumphantly, one foot on the back of the man with the escrima sticks, one of them having been broken over his head. Grant was tossing an unconscious hundred and eighty five pound man aside like a discarded rag doll and there was a path of broken and battered would-be-kidnappers from the ring to where the three now stood.
While Bruce was proud of himself for taking down three men on his own, the Champ had taken nearly a dozen and though he was loathed to admit it, the tiny sixteen year old girl beside him and actually equalled Bruce's total, though Bruce figured he'd helped with two of them.
The smiles quickly faded though as a small dart struck the side of Grant's neck and he winced in pain.
"You have thirty six hours to live Ted Grant," one of the attackers called from a doorway across the room. "Go down in the sixth round and the antidote will be delivered to your dressing room, go down any earlier or last any longer and it'll be your last fight."
With that the man disappeared into the shadows and despite Bruce, Dinah and Grant reaching the doorway only a couple of seconds later, the man had completely disappeared. Bruce made a mental note to figure out how to do that.
"Uncle Ted, we have to get you to a doctor!" Dinah said with obvious worry in her voice.
"We will, Little Bird," Grant said in a soft tone that seemed somewhat out of place for the big man. "But there're a lot of kids here that need our help first."
Looking around, Bruce realized what the Champ meant. A number of the young boxers had tried to join in the fight and didn't fare well. There were several bloody and beaten young men trying to pick themselves up and a couple that would never be getting up again. Bruce, Dinah and Ted each made their way over to the injured and began helping them however they could until the ambulances arrived.
When the police got on the scene, Bruce made a quick and subtle exit, not wanting to draw the attention of the authorities or the media to the billionaire teenager who fought back against ninjas. Bruce had no interest in being in the headlines again, or letting the world know he was a trained fighter.
Before leaving though, he took a chance and grabbed a couple of things from the now unconscious and restrained attackers. A glove that may have fingerprints on the inside, a shoe that the Champ had knocked a man clean out of, just in case it could lead him to where the attackers had came from and most importantly, the small poison dart Grant had discarded after pulling it from his neck. If he could run tests on the poison, he might be able to get an idea of who and what they were dealing with.
"Where are you going?" Bruce cringed as heard Dinah call to him. "And why are you taking that stuff? The police might need it."
Sighing, Bruce turned and decided it was best to explain at least part of the truth to her. She deserved that much.
"The police have plenty of evidence in there, but it'll take them days if not weeks to get it sent to a lab and tested," he explained. "I've got access to a university lab. I'm going to run some tests of my own."
"You heard what that man said," Dinah said, her voice cracking a bit. "My Uncle has less than two days before that poison kills him, if you're going after the guys that did this, I'm going with you!"
"I'm just going to run a few tests…" Bruce started.
"Bull shit!" Dinah hollered, causing Bruce to quickly look around for any police and then pull Dinah into an empty room off to the side. "I've seen you fight Bruce, there's no way someone with that much training is just going to do some lab work!"
"Look, I'm just going to run some tests on this stuff and see what we're dealing with," Bruce said, trying to keep the understandably distraught young woman calm. "If I get any leads, I'll let the police know."
"So we can wait a day or two for them to get a warrant?" Dinah asked rhetorically, grabbing his shirt in her fist. "My Uncle means the world to me! I already had to bury my Dad, there's no way in hell I'm going to watch Uncle Ted die too!"
Tears had begun to form in the corner of her pleading eyes and she quickly turned away from him in an attempt to hide them.
"Do you know what it's like to lose someone you love, Bruce? How helpless it makes you feel?" she asked him, obviously not knowing just how intimately familiar he was with that feeling.
"It's going to take me a few hours to run these tests," Bruce explained as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Meet me back here tonight at nine and we'll go over what I've got."
"I can't just sit here and do nothing!" Dinah exclaimed.
"Then go with the police," Bruce suggested. "See if you can get them to give you any details when they interrogate these guys."
"Give me your cell phone," Dinah ordered.
"I don't have one," Bruce answered. He hadn't bothered to use one since he'd gotten to England. It was inevitable that some reporter would get the number and start badgering him.
"Gah, who doesn't carry a cell phone now days? What kind of rich kid are you?" Thankfully her question was again rhetorical, and she simply grabbed his hand and began writing her phone number on the back of it. "I'll be here at nine, but if you get anything before then or if you want to meet sooner, you call me, okay?"
"Okay," Bruce agreed.
"And I swear to God, if you stand me up..." she didn't finish the sentence, but the glare she gave said everything.
"I'll be here," Bruce reassured her, though he was beginning to feel like this was some kind of insane date. This girl was definitely trouble.
Hearing sounds out in the hallway, Dinah motioned for Bruce to stay put and she went out in the hall. He heard her talking to a couple of police officers, playing the tearful niece and they happily escorted her back to her uncle, giving Bruce plenty of time to slip out the back door.