Cliff Ryder - The Ties That Bind

Jason turned his attention to Boris just in time to see the massive man closing in on him. He stepped sideways, driving a knee into the man's midsection. It felt like a brick wall, but he followed through on the move, slamming an elbow into the back of the man's skull.

Boris staggered a step or two, then spun to face him. He really did resemble a bear, Jason thought, skipping backward. "You hit pretty hard for such a small man," the Russian said.

"Yeah, your brother mentioned that," Jason said, dancing out of reach. "Right before I killed him."

That did it, he saw. The ice had turned to fire. Boris roared and came at him again, catching him with a shoulder in the ribs. The world spun as he was lifted into the air, then flashed by in a moonlit blur as he was slammed into the ground. The air left his lungs with an audible sound, but he found the strength to roll away.

Speed and agility were his best allies in this fight. If Boris got hold of him, he might just snap him in two, like a human pretzel.

Still snarling, the Russian followed after him.

Jason gained his feet, ignoring the pain in his battered rib cage, and caught Boris with a roundhouse kick square in the jaw. He staggered, spitting blood, then surged forward once more.

Jason moved away, circling, waiting for an opening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Feng gain his feet, and felt a surge of pride for his brother who'd held him down for so long. The pride quickly turned to concern, however, when he saw Jesse staggering.

He looked as if he'd been in a threshing machine. Blood ran from his nose, mouth and ears. Feng wasn't fighting him. He was toying with him.

"Come on, you little rice cake," Jesse said, his chest heaving with exertion. "You call that fighting? We've got a village grandmother that hits harder than you." Sadly, Jason could see that his brother's words were bravado, and he would be quickly spent.

The slight diversion of his attention was all Boris needed, however, and he turned back to his own battle in time to feel the Russian's arms wrap around him and lift him off his feet.

"I will crush you like a grape," he said as he squeezed.

This time, Jason knew he had broken ribs because he felt them give beneath Boris's arms. Pain shot through him, running up his spine and slamming into his skull. Lights flashed before his eyes.

Acting on instinct, he raised his arms and brought his hands down as hard as he could on the man's ears. Boris grunted, staggered, but held on.

Jason did it again, and this time, he felt the Russian's hold on him loosen. Off balance and deafened, Boris dropped him to the ground. He backed away, shaking his head.

Gritting his teeth, Jason closed in. He needed to end this and quickly.

Boris saw him coming and tried to move away, but his strength wasn't speed. Jason moved with him, grasped his left wrist and twisted and yanked the big man toward him. Using all the muscle he had, he spun and smashed his own elbow into the Russian's. It broke with a dry snap and Boris screeched in pain, going to his knees.

End it now, Jason thought. He circled around and drove a snap kick into the huge man's nose, driving his head up and leaving his throat exposed. Dropping down, he planted a knife hand into his opponent's throat, trying to crush his larynx.

But Boris wasn't quite finished and managed to duck his head down, taking the blow on the mouth instead. He drove an uppercut into Jason's chin with enough force to send him flying through the air and managed to gain his feet. He wasn't steady, but the man was a machine. He would keep fighting as long as he could.

Jason lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath when he saw Boris's shadow looming over him. Still deafened, the man was shouting as he said, "Now you will die!"

Rolling, Jason lashed out, sweeping the man's legs out from underneath him. Already lacking balance, he toppled to the ground.

Knowing that time was getting more precious by the second, he leaped to his feet, then jumped in the air, coming down on the man's sternum with his elbow. He heard a faint crack as it broke beneath the force of the blow.

Jason got up and did it again before Boris could catch his wind. This time, the bone shattered completely. The Russian coughed weakly, blood flowing out of his mouth. His lungs had been pierced by the bones and he couldn't breathe.

Getting up once more, Jason looked down at him and said, "You're done." He pulled his combat knife from the sheath at his boot. The blade's edge glittered faintly as he grasped it firmly and drove it into the Russian's heart. He twisted it, shredding the big muscle.

Boris shuddered once beneath him, then died, unable to speak whatever hateful final words he might have said. He had joined his brother in whatever hell awaited them.

Jason climbed slowly to his feet, feeling as if he'd been through a threshing machine himself. He really did prefer a clean assassination mission. One shot, one kill, move on. "Damn complications," he muttered, turning to where he knew Feng and Jesse were fighting.

His eyes widened as he saw the Chinese man twist away from a clumsy lunge and come in behind Jesse. His arms circled Jesse's neck and their gazes met for a brief moment, then Feng snapped his neck with one easy move.

Time seemed to slow as Feng released his hold and Jesse toppled over into the cold snow, dead before he hit the ground.

Feng didn't even look all that winded, though it appeared as though Jesse had given a good battle. Blood trickled from a cut on his lip and even in the dim light, Jason could tell that Feng was favoring his left side slightly.

"And then there were two," the rogue agent said, straightening his lean frame. "He fought well, for a civilian. A pleasant enough diversion."

"I'm going to kill you, Feng," Jason said, his blood turning to ice. He felt nothing. His brother was dead. Tina probably was, too. People he cared about, the closest thing he would ever have to a family, and he felt nothing. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm taking you with me to hell."

Moving forward with catlike grace, Feng smiled once more. "Better men than you have tried, Mr. Siku. For the destruction you have brought down upon my little operation here, I promise you a painfully slow death."

"Bring it, then," he said, circling away from the man and gauging his opponent. "Let's find out if you're really as good as they say you are. My guess is your reputation is probably a little bloated."

"I promise you, Mr. Siku," Feng said. "I am better."

The real fight, Jason knew, was about to begin.

And worse, he realized something else as the distance between them closed. Feng was better than he was and he was about to die. So be it, he thought. But I won't make it easy for him. Not by any measure.

Feng suddenly leaped into the air, and Jason met him halfway.

Spinning wheel kicks sliced through the air, and Jason stepped inside of them, taking one on the shoulder but driving a hard right into Feng's inner thigh. Instead of tumbling to the ground, however, the Chinese man sprang backward, landing on his hands, then flipping once more to right himself.

He didn't pause, but drove forward again, and Jason found himself backing up, blocking twice as many punches as he was able to throw. His opponent was rattlesnake fast and knew where to place each blow to cause the most pain and damage.

Trying to give a little in return, Jason gave up on blocking and stepped into a punch that caught him directly on the cheekbone below his right eye. The pain was excruciating, but worth it as he managed to put a knife hand into Feng's left collarbone. It wasn't enough to break it, but there was at least a crack, and the Chinese man backed off once more.