The Final Storm

35. The Final Fight

Wham!

A punch to the face sent the masked man sprawling. Adaira, suddenly freed from his grip, whipped her head around and...there he stood. Captain James Carter. Wet, dirty, covered in unspeakable things from his underground bath, and yet...Adaira had never seen a more beautiful man in her life.

"You are late," she told him.

One corner of her man's mouth quirked up. "Oh my. So, I guess I'll never be working for your brother, will I? What a tragedy."

She couldn't help herself any longer. Rushing forward, Adaira threw herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. He didn't waste a moment and enfolded her in a tight embrace. Adaira felt those strong, warm arms of his around her and nearly melted into his chest. Right then and there, surrounded by enemies, with a hostile army marching towards them and a war-torn country between them and security, she felt safer than she ever had before. Instinctively, she tightened her grip.

"Miss me?" he chuckled.

"Miss Adaira," she corrected, her voice muffled as she snuggled into his chest. "I'm not called Mee."

"Oh, right. How could I forget?"

Adaira smiled and was just about to open her mouth to respond when, suddenly, he slipped out of her arms and stepped away, his eyes suddenly hard. Glancing after him, Adaira saw something that made her throat tighten—the figure of the masked man, rising from the ground a few yards away.

"Apologies." Taking a step forward, the captain firmly interposed himself between her and the henchman. "It seems that my attention is required elsewhere."

Adaira swallowed. "Be...be careful."

"Of course." The captain fixed his gaze upon the approaching henchman and took up a fighting stance. "Now, how did this go again...on cart? One card? Ah, no. En garde!"

Adaira felt the urge to whack him over the head from behind. Considering this was probably a bad idea just before a fight to the death, she resisted. Barely.

The masked man, on the other hand, did not. Bringing up his fists, he rushed forward. Captain Carter made no move to respond. He simply stood there and waited.

"Um...James?" Adaira questioned cautiously.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting."

"I can bloody see that! For what?"

The masked man had arrived in front of Carter, fist raised to strike.

"This," the captain said.

Then he twisted his body ever so slightly. The enemy's fist sailed right past him, and the masked man was so surprised he didn't notice Carter extending his leg right into his path. Until he fell, that is.

"Aaaah!"

"Oh my. A little clumsy today, aren't we?" Bending down with a look of concern on his face that seemed so genuine Adaira almost bought it, Carter extended his hand. "Please allow me."

Then, before the man could react, Carter grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet and rammed a knee into his gut. Wheezing, the man doubled over.

"Already stumbling again? Tut-tut." With a swift kick, the captain knocked his opponent's legs out from under him and, with another, hit him in the liver.

"Ugh! You son of a—"

"Now, now. Watch that dirty mouth," Captain Carter advised and, with a foot on the back of the man's neck, pressed him face-first into the mud.