Mr and Mrs Shaw (rewrite)

Chapter 11

"Is that it?" Deckard asked, quite bored as he watched Hobbs punch the stone wall with his bare fists over and over, the stone not even chipping. "Is that all those bloated-out muscles will give ya? All show and no go," he taunted as he leaned back against the wall, one foot against it as his arms were crossed over his chest.

Hobbs grunted as he gave the wall one final punch and then turned to Shaw before pulling the stone bench from the wall over to the glass panel where he could see Hobbs doing arm curls with it. The man so eager to prove him wrong.

"Oh, I got plenty of go," he called back as Deckard made mocking faces at him.

"You must've misplaced that when I kicked your arse all up and down that office of yours."

"Yeah, just like you Brits, always rewriting history huh?" Hobbs set the bench down.

"All I know is, it wasn't me that was thrown out of a four-story window."

"Jumped. I jumped out of a four-story window, saving my partner's life," Hobbs corrected. "'Cause where I'm from, we don't settle fights by throwing bombs."

"Well, that's funny, because where I'm from, our women can handle themselves, even in the face of a bomb!" Shaw fired back as he pushed off the wall to face Hobbs dead on, pointing his finger at him. "I mean, do you really believe you can stand in front of me or my wife, and beat us in a straight-up old-fashioned fistfight?"

"Let me tell you something. Me and you, one-on-one, no one else around. I will beat your ass like a Cherokee drum," Hobbs threatened as he braced both his hands on the glass panel.

"Maybe one day we'll find out."

"Oh, you better hope that day never comes, because after I'm done, your wife ain't gonna be yours after one night with me."

Shaw's hands were in fists, but he still forced himself to laugh and ignore the fact that he couldn't pop Hobbs' head like a zit. "I'd pay good money to see you try and get Katrina in bed. She hates you probably even more than I do. And she could probably kick both our arses without even breaking a nail. No wonder why you don't have a wife. You'd try to fight her and accidentally end up flattening her."

Hobbs' mouth was open, he was mid-reply when he was cut off by a loud buzz. His blue cell door slid open. Just his cell door.

Confused and curious, Deckard moved to stand behind his door, peering out through the small bar-covered gap. He watched as Hobbs stood at the threshold, gazing in and out before he looked up to the security camera and yelled, "I said no, Mr. Nobody! I'm not leaving this cell. I'll get out my way. The right way!"

Once again, Deckard laughed. He couldn't help but laugh. "Of course, fucking Frank tried to recruit you."

Before Hobbs could question him, an alarm blared, and soldiers came running for Hobbs.

"Hey! Why's the door open? Get back in your cell!" one of them ordered, hard to tell who as they all wore helmet-like masks that covered their entire face as they brandished tasers, the lights flickering on and off as they sizzled with electricity.

Deckard flexed his fingers. His hands were itching.

Hobbs held up his hands in surrender. "Relax. It's just a malfunction," Hobbs assured them.

"Get back!" one of them roared and as he'd hoped, the guard closest to Deckard's cell, took a step backwards, closer to him. Too close. Close enough for him to scratch his itch.

"It's just a malfunction," Hobbs repeated, but his words fell on deaf ears – or possibly dead ears.

Deckard reached through the holes in his door and he grabbed the guard, yanking the taser from his hand. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as he stuck the taser into his neck. He let go as the guard fell to the floor and he lifted the taser up to fry the electric lock on his cell.

And when the door opened, it wasn't just Deckard's door that opened...it was all of them that opened.

Every single prisoner stepped out and they went straight for the guards, launching a full-blown riot in seconds.