Wesley Snipes - Talon of God

“Screw you and your fancy Judo moves!” Black bellowed, narrowly escaping Talon’s grab to try and put him into a submission hold. “This is a sword fight, asshole.”

“I’ll fight back when you give me something to swing against,” Talon said, smiling. “So far, all you’ve done is flail around like a mad dog.”

“I’ll show you mad,” Black yelled, swinging wildly, his black sword flying so fast it vanished into the dim light. “I’ll show you death !”

Normally so cool and collected, Black’s anger was consuming him, and his sword crashed into Talon’s, hitting so fast, all Talon could see were the sparks as it struck. Black lashed out again and again, wailing with all his might, but to no avail. No matter how hard he struck, how fast he went, Talon’s stance did not falter. He simply stood and took it, standing steady and implacable as a mountain until, at last, Black stepped back.

“You stubborn bastard,” he panted, chest heaving as he tossed his black sword away. “Fine—I’ll play your game.” He walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, taking a long swig. “You want to play defense?” he said when he was done, wiping his mouth on the back of his gloved hand. “Dodge this.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before his other hand, the one he’d slipped behind the bar while his free hand grabbed the whiskey bottle, came up holding something long and pipe-shaped with a string sticking off one end. It wasn’t until Talon saw the tiny flicker of fire on the string’s end, though, that he realized the thing wasn’t just pipe- shaped . It was a pipe bomb , and it had just landed at his feet.

Talon dodged only through the grace of God. He lurched to the left, gripping his blazing sword tight as he rolled behind one of the warehouse’s metal support beams. It was poor protection, but in the split second before the bomb went off, it was all he had. He’d barely covered his head before the bomb exploded with a deafening boom , sending the metal shrapnel that had been packed inside shooting like bullets in all directions. Several pieces whizzed right by his head and shoulders, passing so close he could feel the heat of them on his skin, but between the iron and the angel’s protection, he managed to avoid actually being struck. Even so, he was still in a protective crouch when the explosion finally ended, the ringing boom giving way to Lincoln Black’s echoing laughter.

“And that’s how we do it downtown,” he said, his voice mocking. “Plenty more where that came from, old man, so why don’t you come out? We’ll play catch .”

The final word was accompanied by the sound of something being thrown, but Talon knew what he was up against now, and he did not hesitate. Black’s voice was still ringing when he rolled to his feet, sliding around the pole he’d been using for cover to slice the second pipe bomb—which Black had indeed just tossed at him—out of the air.

The moment his flaming sword hit, he worried he’d made a mistake. It was clear from the hand-filing marks on the pipe’s surface that these were homemade explosives, not purchased ones. He had no idea how they’d react to being cut, which was a problem given that he’d sliced this one directly in front of his face. From his grin, Black clearly expected it to explode, but Talon’s sword passed through like a fish through water, carving the flying bomb neatly into two halves that flew harmlessly past, clattering to the ground behind him.

“You and your miracle bullshit ,” Black snarled, tossing the third bomb, which he’d been ready to throw at Talon, back into the box full of explosives hidden behind the bar. “That should have been your head, you goddamn cheater!”

After a whole night of talking to Lincoln Black, Talon didn’t feel the need to dignify that with a reply. He simply raised his sword again, stepping to the side to avoid the gaping hole the first bomb had left in the wooden floor.

“That’s how you want to play, huh?” Black said, vaulting over the bar. “Okay, fucker, let’s play .”

He turned to the weapons displayed so carefully on the brick wall behind him and grabbed the largest item—a huge weighted chain with a wicked-looking hook on the end. He’d barely gotten the thing off its hanger before he swung it, aiming to sink the barbed hook deep into Talon’s leg.

As ever, Black was astonishingly fast. But he was also the enemy Talon had trained all these years to face, and he dodged the hook with time to spare.

The chain, however, was another matter.

He was still spinning out of the way when it wrapped around his legs, binding them together and sending him to the floor. He was trying to kick back up when Black appeared above him.

“What’s the matter, holy man?” he taunted, yanking the chain tight. “All tied up and nowhere to—”

His words were cut off, leaving him gasping, as Talon struck upward, slamming him with the flat of his shining blade. The impact sent him flying into the wall behind the bar, breaking the bottles in an explosion of glass. He fell to the floor next, gasping and sputtering as thousands of dollars’ worth of top-shelf liquor landed on his head. He’d just made it to his knees when Talon’s sword appeared at his throat.

“It’s over.”

“The hell it is,” Black gasped, glaring up at him. “You don’t have the balls. You’ve never had the balls to kill me, and that’s where you fail, Talon, because I ain’t ever going to rest until I take you to hell with me.”

“But you’re already there,” Talon said sadly, looking around at the lonely room full of vice and pain. “You blame me and God and everyone else, but the truth is you’ve built your own hell here, Black. You could leave at any time, let go of your bitterness and live a better life. But you would rather stay miserable in a world where your problems are someone else’s fault than accept that the real enemy here isn’t me or God. It’s you.”

“Then end it,” Black said, chest heaving. “You’ve already written me off. Finish the job.” He lifted his head to press his neck against the blade of Talon’s sword. “Do it.”

For a moment, it seemed like Talon would. He edged closer, pressing his sword along his enemy’s neck, and then he relaxed.

“No.”

Lincoln Black’s eyes flashed with fury. “What?”

“No,” Talon said again, lowering his weapon. “I’m not going to kill you.”

For a moment, Black just stared at him in disbelief, and then he lurched forward. “What is wrong with you?” he screamed. “How many times is it going to take before you learn I don’t stop? Do you really think that if you keep letting me go, I’m going to come around? See the light and go to Jesus? Is that what you think is going to happen?”

“It’s what I hope,” Talon said. “There is always hope.”

“If you believe that, then you’re stupider than I thought,” Black spat. “’Cause I ain’t ever gonna stop. If you don’t kill me, I’ll—”

His words cut off as Talon’s sword returned to his neck. “I’ve heard it all before,” Talon said calmly. “But no matter how hard you try, you can’t pin your sins on me. Everything you do, you choose, and that’s on you, not me. But I will not kill you, Lincoln.”

“Why not?” Black demanded.

“Because I’m not like you,” Talon said softly. “God doesn’t give up on people, and neither do I. There is always a way out. You can still—”

“What?” Black sneered. “Repent? Fucker, please . You really think your God would take me? After all this?”

“Yes,” Talon said. When Lincoln rolled his eyes, he crouched down in the broken glass to look him in the face. “This is why God’s mercy is infinite. Because when there are no limits, there can be no sin so great that it can’t be forgiven. Salvation is always possible. Always, for anyone. Even you. You just have to want it.”