The Immortality Plot

The Immortality Plot - chapter 38

The man was silent. Delaney knew there was nothing to say under these circumstances. Only one of them would emerge from this contest alive.

He moved to the right and watched as The Priest smiled and began to move also with circular movements, fluid and graceful, hard to predict.

Delaney noticed the man’s fists, curled into solid blocks. The knuckles were missing. They had been congealed into a thick mass of bone and muscle. They were fearsome weapons and The Priest knew how to use them.

There was something else about his hands that was unusual. They were encased in close fitting clear plastic gloves. The material must be special. It must be able to endure stress. It also avoided leaving traces of flesh or sweat or fingerprints.

Delaney recognized the man’s fighting style. It was a form of Hapkido. This meant that The Priest would try to get close in and fight where he could use locks and short strikes with those deadly fists.

Delaney’s height and reach gave him an advantage as did his knowledge of counter punching, and in this case, long distance kicks and punches.

Delaney also reasoned that The Priest was taking a big risk by even being here. He would not want to leave any DNA evidence behind so he would want to get this over with quickly and then destroy the house. He would want to finish the job that the unknown arsonist had started, leaving Delaney’s body to burn to a cinder in the midst of an inferno.

All this Delaney reasoned in the split second it took for the Eurasian to make his first move. He was fast. It required all Delaney’s strength and power to avoid the strike. Delaney retaliated with a vicious heel kick to the kneecap that just connected as The Priest seemed to float out of range. He stumbled and regarded Delaney with what looked like surprised admiration.

Like two panthers, the men circled each other, watching for an opportunity. Suddenly, the smaller man collapsed into a rolling ball that came in under Delaney’s guard. The Priest struck with his heel, catching Delaney on the thigh muscle. Then in one movement he appeared behind Delaney and grabbed his shoulder with an iron grip. Delaney didn’t wait. He kicked backwards, catching the other man’s instep and dropped his weight. He could feel the death grip starting to bite.He struck The Priest’s kidneys with a rupturing elbow punch and felt the grip loosen. Delaney’s thigh was throbbing. It had slowed him down, handing advantage to his opponent.

But The Priest had also been stunned. One of his ribs may have been broken. The two men circled again, eyes fixed on each other like gimlets. This was a fight to death.

Until.

“Freeze,” screamed a voice. “Freeze now.”

Lieutenant Raymond Dorsey was standing in the entrance to the living room, legs apart, knees bent, two-handed grip on his standard issue Smith & Wesson model 4546. The gun was aimed plumb at the back of The Priest’s head. Delaney was facing them both. He could see his assailant’s mind working. He could see the fury in his eyes. This was a man who never thought he would be caught. This was a man who had made a mistake and broken away from a proven routine. And he was someone who had run into a piece of raw bad luck. He could never have known that Dorsey would turn up just at the crucial moment. He was staring at Delaney showing no sign of having heard the instruction.

Delaney said.

“Lieutenant Dorsey, meet The Priest.”

Behind Dorsey came another man. Delaney remembered Officer Patrick.

“Are we going to book him?” demanded Patrick.

“Yes we are,” muttered Dorsey walking around at a safe distance until he was facing Lucius Gynt.