Chapter 3

The attack happened a couple of days after that.

We cleaned up after the massage. Towels were used to wiped down everything that had gotten gel on them before being tossed into the hamper, followed by a quick shower, to rinse the gel from our bodies.

I collapsed onto my bed, and Risa joined me. I slept through the night waking up at my usual pre-dawn time feeling stiff from having slept so long, and alone in my bed. On my night stand sat a paper crane. I picked it up, noticing that there was a note written on it, and read through the brief note quickly.

Eric,

I believe Anna now. I would be very honored if you were to contact me soon. I would be grateful if you could assist me in exploring other techniques that I desire to practice.

Risa

I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face if I had wanted to and went through my morning routine in a post-coitus daze; I floated through my classes oblivious to everything around me.

I called Risa after classes, my grin still firmly in place, and agreed that we had both learned much about each other. She confessed that she would need a couple of days to recover her energy before we explored other areas.

What I learned about her both worried and aroused me. The image of her licking my cum from her hand while her eyes bored into me was seared into my soul. I could be ninety years old and that image would still be able to get me hard. I knew that she had hooked me and I didn’t care. A man would do many things to continue to be treated like that.

I accepted that I was being drawn into something, because after Risa, I felt renewed. I felt like she had made a place for me in her world.

The attack came in the early morning of the next day. I was returning to my room, nearly finished with my run when a half dozen oriental men surrounded me. The tattoos that I could see on their neck, peeking out from the collars of their dress shirts, and around their wrists gave me a good idea of who I was dealing with. They also didn’t appear armed with any guns. I could see batons, and a couple of tasers, but no guns. My best guess in the moment was that this was an attempt to kidnap me to try and leverage pressure on Anna. My anger grew quickly.

The route that I ran kept me on campus for the very reason that I would be less likely to run into this kind of shit. Campus security is usually fairly tight, there were too many VIP’s on campus for it to not be, but I used a short cut to get back to my room, a kind of alley between two of the campus buildings, and this is where they managed to set me up. Still, campus security was still out there, and I needed to get their attention while also keeping them from either capturing me, or hurting me.

My grandfather, and my father both had very strong beliefs about violence. And both of them could deliver a great deal of damage if they ever needed to. Their belief though was to be strong enough to never need to resort to violence. And to do the least amount of damage to end a fight if it came looking for you.

My initial instructor had been a Sioux. He learned from both his tribe, and his time in the Marine Corps. He spent most of his time in conditioning my body.

“Fear of pain is what make you hesitate,” he would say, “Learning that pain is momentary, a signal that something may be wrong, places you in control,”

And then he would have me do exercises until I thought I was going to die.

My subsequent instructors only expanded on my knowledge. It wasn’t until I found myself in the Sand Box that I learned the next big lesson. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you have to kill.

I was wondering if I was going to have to kill here.

They hadn’t made their move yet. I didn’t understand why. The time let me drop deeply into a focused trance. I hadn’t needed to do this since my time in Iraq.

First, disconnect from your emotions. There is no fear, there is no love.

Second, let your mind drift, focus on nothing and everything.

Third, let your body relax. Stiff muscles are slow muscles. Become like flowing water that offers no resistance, and finds paths through all things.

Breathe deeply. Exhale slowly.

They moved in a coordinated manner. I let out a war cry, a high pitched scream of defiance and rage. And then I floated to the closest person with a baton. When the strike came, I was already beside him, his wrist in hand as I leveraged his elbow against my other arm. The elbow hyper flexed, his wrist loosening, the baton now in my hand before stomping on his knee.

One of the men with a taser tried to hit me, but I rotated past him, the baton connecting with his wrist, before I completed my turn, my back now to the man out of position. Another taser and I stepped into him, my arm holding his away as I punched him in the throat.

There was a sharp sting on my shoulder, a baton hit, probably aimed for my head. They were already too late; I had made a hole, and could now face all of them head on if necessary.

I ran.

There was a security post less than a hundred yards from here. They followed.

I felt the tines of one of the tasers hit me in the back, the electric flow causing my muscles to flex. I stumbled and fell, forcing myself into a forward roll. Lights were turning on in the court yard I was in I noticed. Who ever had the taser had stopped the electric charge, and I ripped the tines out of my skin, taking a fair bit of flesh out with them.

I rolled back to my feet, and let out a second war cry. More lights were coming on. There were sounds of shouting around me. I held my baton at the ready, the four before me realizing that the situation had changed. They looked at each other before splitting up, and running, two of them running directly into two campus police. The campus cops really didn’t have a chance, as they were bowled over. People were coming out of their room, the commotion having awakened several people. Seeing that I was safe for the moment, I lowered myself to my knees, the baton slipping from my fingers as I started gulping air.

The total lapsed time was maybe three minutes from start to finish. There was a lot of blood coming out of my back. The pain hit me hard, and I groaned softly. I looked around, there were two people coming up to me, one of them I knew was in the medical program. There was a third person that I saw that pissed me off. Leaning against the wall of the alley that I had exited from was Suki, a frown on her face.

My eyes locked with hers, and I started to stand up. I didn’t realize that I had stood up, and I have no idea what I looked like when I stood there staring Suki down. Even the med student paused when she saw the look in my eyes, turning to see who I was staring at. Suki’s eyes widened when she saw me standing, staring at her. Other students saw who I was looking at, and a couple started moving towards her before she stepped back into the alley and took off.

The med student finally reached me when she realized that I wasn’t about to attack anyone else. Two more cops had come up at almost the same time. When they saw me bleeding, they called in an ambulance.

One of the cops approached me while the med student carefully pulled my shirt off of me, and pressed it against my two new wounds. I hissed at the new pain, but turned to face the cop.

“What happened” he demanded.

“Six men, looked like Yakuza, attempted kidnapping,” I offered through clenched teeth. The cop looked a bit green after that.

“Why would anyone want to kidnap you?” he demanded again.

“Contact the State Department, and ask them,” I shot back. I fucking hurt, and didn’t feel like dealing with being interrogated.

Oddly enough, I think he did just that.

I was bundled up onto a gurney, and shoved into an ambulance. At the hospital, they took x-rays, and found that my scapula had been bruised from the baton strike. I’d never known a bone could get bruised. They put a large blue gel wrap around my shoulder to reduce swelling. There was no damage to my skull thankfully, but if my scapula had been bruised, I didn’t even want to know what my trapezius looked like. I considered it a mixed blessing that I couldn’t turn my head far enough in the direction to look at it.

In time the two new holes in my back where cleaned, and covered. They handed me some Tylenol 3, and I tried to lie on my side while I waited to be released, only to find a suit walk into my semi-private emergency room bungalow.

“Eric?” the suit asked.

“Uh, yeah?” I offered.

“Mike Anders, State Department,” he explained, taking a seat in a chair next to my bed.

“Nice to meet you,” I offered. My sarcasm levels were running a bit low at the moment, and I don’t think Mr. Anders noticed. Or if he did, I don’t think he cared.

“We just found out about your attack. You said Yakuza. Are you sure?” he prompted.

“Not one hundred percent, no,” I began, “But Japanese? With full body tattoos? Seems to narrow it down a bit,” I finished.

Mike nodded, looking thoughtful.

“Any idea why?” he asked.

“Have you read my contact reports?” I countered.

“Not me personally, no, something in them?” he asked.

I gave him a brief synopses of my time with Anna, and being introduced to Risa. Not a detailed account, but enough detail to explain the situation. Having worked at the State Department before, I knew that there would be no such thing as privacy.

“Do you know who Anna’s father is?” he continued.

“Nope. Don’t care,” I answered, “And if you guys had wanted me to know, you would have told me already. Seriously, I quit five months ago. Nothing personal Mike, but the State Department is on my shit list. I’m filling out the contact reports as required by law, but don’t expect me to play along. The job left me with a very bitter taste, if you know what I mean,”

Mike chuckled, and nodded.

“OK. We’ll get this taken care of. Don’t talk to the police, and if they press you, give them my card,” He said, handing me a thin stack of about ten business cards. I nodded, accepting them, and watched him slip out.

Fifteen minutes later, another suit, a woman this time, entered. She was wanted to know how I was going to pay for my medical expenses. I started having dark thoughts in regards to the American health care system. My time in Germany had spoiled me. I was the victim of an attempted kidnapping, and the hospital was more worried about their bottom line. I handed her Mike’s card and told her to bill the State Department. That shut her up, and she walked away quickly. Fuck her, I thought.

I’d been in the hospital long enough for me to receive a second round of codeine, and two changes of the cold packs when two detectives walked in. My stay here was getting better and better. The detectives were going to try the intimidation tactic. It was in the way they were giving me the hard look. I’d seen it done better by my drill sergeants. I knew the codeine was going to make me talkative if I didn’t have a line of bull to sling at them, so I decided to go with a tried and true tactic of, “This is above your pay-grade”.

“So, Eric, can you tell me what happened,” they began, after the formal introductions.

I just handed them both one of Mike’s cards.

“Officers, I am under orders from the State Department not to say anything until I have been debriefed,” I began. When you start slinging shit, it is best that you pile it high and deep, “Any attempt to force information from me may fall under a violation of the State Secrets Act which may have you charged as traitors for attempting to coerce information from me. I’ve been medicated with a mild narcotic, and may accidentally let something slip under interrogation. My suggestion is that you contact Mike at the state department, and let them handle any questions you may have,” I ended.

Cops aren’t used to being on the receiving end of that kind of speech, and there was nothing they could do about it. I could appreciate that this was going to be a very public mess for the police department to clean up, but I never said that I wouldn’t talk to them, and I didn’t say that I knew for a fact that anything I knew was covered by the State Secrets Act. I only stated that I didn’t know, and that if I let anything slip, my ass was covered due to my medication. Though I was getting a bit pissed off at their timing, wondering how many times they had waited until a patient was under the influence to interrogate them. Fuck’em too, I though to myself.

They made a few vague threats before leaving. I sighed, and tried to get comfortable again. There had to be something that they could give me that would block the throbbing in my shoulder. I was contemplating if lidocaine would do it when the curtain opened again. For fuck’s sake, I thought, wondering who it was going to be this time. Only it was Risa.

“Eric!” she exclaimed softly, the concern written on her face, “How bad are you?”

“Bruised scapula, trap, and a couple of chunks of flesh torn out of my back,” I answered. Her hand moved to cover her mouth. I’ve never understood the gesture. That made me notice that my mind was wandering. I needed to focus. I didn’t know if I was out of the woods yet.