Agent Dark Read online

  AGENT DARK

  Copyright

  Agent Dark© copyright 2019 Lane Mason

  Published: Jan 2019

  Publisher: Magicblood Media Corp

  1

  Kat

  The trainer wrapped her hands while she sat on the table. The room was poorly lit and smelled of sweat, blood, and harsh chemical cleaners. Ollie, the trainer, wasn’t a talker. He grunted. But this wasn’t a prime-time fight worth worrying about. In fact, it wasn’t even a bottom-list fight. It was underground illegal MMA, and Ollie didn’t give a shit if she won or lost. He got paid to wrap her hands, and that was the extent of his interest.

  Ollie grunted and taped her hands before walking away. His job was done, and he was off to wait for the next fighter.

  Kat closed her eyes and took long slow deep breaths. She had no idea who she was fighting, so there was no thinking about styles or what her opponent wanted to do. All she could do was focus on her own game plan. And her game plan was simple. She liked to slug it out. There was something about getting hit that got her juices flowing. She had excellent wrestling and takedowns, but that wasn’t her style. She was a slugger. It was the reason she got invited to the underground fights despite her past. Underground promoters didn’t care about scandals, they cared about action-filled fights.

  “Hey, kid, you’re up,” said Tony. Big Tony, as he liked to be called, was the promoter of the fights. Each week, the fights were held in a different location to make sure the cops never caught up with them, and Tony controlled the betting. For the most part, Tony was a slimy bastard, but he always paid his fighters and never fixed a fight. It was those two facts that made his fights the premium underground game in town. The big gamblers trusted Tony, and so did the fighters. Tony had a reputation for being less than reputable with his female fighters, but Kat had never had a problem with him. It might’ve been the fact that she knocked out a spectator who grabbed her ass after her second fight. The spectator had been six three and almost three hundred pounds, and ever since then Tony had kept his distance. He’d also paid her a bonus for the second knockout, though of course the bonus came with a warning that if she hit the wrong guy she would end up face-down in a ditch. Considering the type of people who made up the audience, it was sage advice.

  Kat jumped up off the table and followed Tony into the ‘arena’, which was an abandoned warehouse with a makeshift ring Thankfully, Tony had invested in matting for the ring floor. Kat had heard stories of underground fights where participants fought on cement floors and ended up knocked out not from their opponent’s strikes but from hitting their heads on the floor. While the mats Tony had weren’t exactly soft, they gave some cushion.

  Around the mats was a large and diverse crowd. Some were men in suits, accompanied by ladies dressed as if out for a formal occasion, while others in the crowd looked like stereotypical gangbangers and bikers. It seemed violence knew no social status limitations. In the background was a tinny-sounding stereo playing her entrance music.

  Big Tony turned to her. “What the hell kind of ring music is this, anyways? It’s fucking weird.”

  “Psycho Boy Jack. It’s from the Fight Club soundtrack.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit,” said Kat.

  Big Tony nodded with newfound appreciation for her musical choice. “It’s still weird, but hell so are you.”

  Kat smirked and then ignored everything around her, Tony, the crowd, everything but the music. She just let the music fill her mind and started half dancing, half walking to the ring. The movement was as much about keeping her body moving and loose as it was about enjoying the song.

  When they got to the ring, her music ended, and a loud, bombastic rap song came on. Kat recognized it as the music that Bertha used. She turned to Tony. “Seriously?”

  Big Tony shrugged. “I can’t find any featherweights willing to fight you. Hell, I can’t find any lightweights, for that matter. After you broke Carinna’s jaw with that kick, I have no choice but to put you in with the heavyweights.”

  Kat sighed. Carinna had been a dirty bitch who tried poking her eyes in the clinch. She didn’t feel bad about the fact she’d ended up in the hospital, but now she was facing a whole new kind of opponent. There wasn’t really a heavyweight women’s division, there simply weren’t enough fighters, but Big Tony had created one for his underground fighters. Any woman over a hundred and fifty-five was considered a heavyweight. Bertha, aka Beth Harmon, was probably pushing a hundred and eighty, and at six feet she had four inches and thirty-five pounds on Kat. And Bertha wasn’t fat. She was a powerlifter with two black belts. She was a walking, talking freight train.

  “I hope I’m getting danger pay for this,” Kat said.

  Big Tony grunted. “Fat chance. But if you like, you can bet your appearance fee on yourself, or more if you got it.”

  “You’d like that. Seeing me get my ass handed to me for free.”

  The fat promoter shrugged. “I like free.”

  “What are the odds?”

  “Posted odds are six to one. But I’ll give you ten to one. Just make sure you put on a good show. Don’t get yourself knocked out in the first minute.”

  Kat knew it was crazy, but she really needed the money and she felt good, as strong as she’d ever felt and for some reason she thought winning wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded. Ten to one odds was a real opportunity to change her life, and she’d probably never get another chance like this again. It was extremely rare for Tony to allow a fighter to bet on their own fight. “I’ll bet five large.”

  Big Tony raised an eyebrow. “You good for it?”

  Kat nodded. She had that much, but it had taken her almost three years to save it. She couldn’t afford to lose it, but she couldn’t afford not to take this chance to changer her life.

  “Alright, kid. Why not.”

  Kat took a deep breath and exhaled. She was committed now. “Thanks Tony.”

  Tony grunted. “Don’t thank me kid. I just hope you don’t get killed in the first thirty seconds. At least now you have proper incentive to put up a good fight.”

  Kat watched as Bertha stepped into the makeshift ring. There was no cage or real ring, just the mats laid out in a large circle. If they got too close to the edge, the crowd would push them back towards the center, sometimes with an extra punch or kick thrown in for good measure. Most fighters avoided getting close to the edge. It was tough enough fighting one opponent, let alone having random people involved. There was a ref, but they only enforced the most basic of rules. A lot of shady shit went down in these fights, but as long as the crowd was entertained, it was allowed.

  Bertha did a series of stretches that Kat couldn’t help but admire. The woman was strong, flexible, and fast. Bertha finished her warmup routine with a high kick that would’ve done Bruce Lee proud.

  Big Tony stood in the middle of the ring and raised his hands to the crowd. The music stopped and everyone got quiet. “Here we go, folks. This is it, the battle of the baddest bitches around. Bertha the Beast, aka the Baltimore Boss, and her opponent for tonight, Ice-Cold Kat.” Big Tony turned his attention from the crowd to the two fighters. “Make it a good one, girls. The last two fights sucked eggs, and the crowd is getting restless.”

  In Big Tony’s world, ‘make it a good one’ meant lots of blood. The problem with that was if it came down to a slug-it-out brawl in the middle of the ring, Kat was at a distinct disadvantage. But she wasn’t worried. Tony would get his show one way or another.

  A scantily clad silicone-enhanced girl wearing nothing but a G-string entered the ring holding a big sign saying Round One. As if the crowd was too dumb to know without Tits McGee telling them. As the bimbo left the ring, Bertha moved to the middle of the ring. The fight was on.

  Kat moved slowly, sliding to her right. Bertha wanted to control the ring, hold the middle and force Kat to come to her. So that was what she did. An aggressive step forward and a quick jab caught Bertha on the cheek. The bigger woman didn’t even flinch, she just took the punch and stepped forward with a right jab of her own.

  The jab slammed into Kat’s forehead.

  Mother Ducker, Kat thought.

  Bertha’s reach was even longer than Kat had expected. Kat was able to slip the next jab, but just barely. However, she didn’t see the left uppercut that followed the jab. It caught Kat on the jaw and sent her sprawling to the mats. Instinctively, she brought her knees up to her chest and prepared herself for the bigger fighter to try to take a mount position where she could pin her down and smash her, but Bertha just smiled and took a step back. She too wanted to slug it out, not ground and pound.

  Kat quickly came to her feet. While Bertha didn’t want to fight on the ground, she certainly wasn’t making it easy on Kat. The second she was on her feet, Bertha attacked with a flurry of punches. Kat blocked and weaved as best she could, but she was taking hard shots to the body and glancing blows to the head.

  But as she started to get the rhythm of Bertha’s attacks, she was able to land a few shots of her own. She took Bertha’s best shots and kept coming back, landing shots to Bertha’s ribcage Until Bertha caught her with another hard left that sent Kat sprawling to the mats. This time, Bertha jumped on top of Kat and was raining down hard shots to the head and body as the bell rang, signifying the end of round one. Saved by the bell, thought Kat as she waited for the ref to pull Bertha off her.

  While Tits McGee strutted around the ring to inform the crowd that, indeed, the second round did follow the first, Kat sat on her stool. Sh
e looked over at Bertha. The big bitch was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. It made Kat mad.

  With no trainer or coaches, the break between rounds was all about regaining your composure, but as Kat got madder at the idea of Bertha sitting there grinning, she thought not about strategy or using her training to get an advantage. No, all she could think about was punching Bertha right on the end of her oversized chin.

  The bell rang, and the fight was back on. Kat moved towards the middle of the ring with purpose.

  Bertha, confident after the way she’d handled Kat in the first round, taunted her. “Here, Kitty Kitty. Come and get your beating.”

  Kat ignored the taunts and closed the distance quickly. She surprised Bertha with a superman punch that landed right on her fat nose. Thank the gods for cute French-Canadian fighters, thought Kat as she followed up the sneaky punch made famous by her favorite pro fighter with a hard right to the ribs. Unlike the first round, this time Bertha flinched.

  Bertha wasn’t going down from a couple good punches though. She grabbed Kat and clinched while trying to headbutt her.

  Kat sensed the incoming headbutt and lowered her own head so that Betha ended up bringing her own nose into Kat’s forehead. The exact opposite result from what Bertha wanted.

  Bertha stepped back, and Kat pressed forward. Time seemed to slow for a second as Kat focused her eyes on Bertha’s chin, she felt a surge of energy go through her and she fired a heavy overhand right with all her might and it landed right on the button. Bertha’s eyes crossed before turning up into her head as she fell to the ground.

  With Bertha out cold, Big Tony stepped into the ring and lifted Kat’s arm. For the most part, the crowd was subdued, except for the boisterous cheers of the few individuals that had bet on her. Kat looked down at the ref, who was using smelling salts to wake Bertha. Holy shit, I just knocked out a heavyweight, Kat thought to herself as Tony held up her arm.

  She’d never hit anyone that hard before. Must have been the adrenaline, Kat thought as she left the ring. The crowd looked at Kat and then back to the body of Bertha. They were stunned by the knockout. Kat spotted one man in the back, who didn’t have the look of shock on his face, he looked at her and winked, as if he’d known it was going to happen.

  Kat shook her head, there was always one guy in the crowd who thought he was a savant when it came to picking underdogs in a fight. But hey if he’d won money on her, good for him.

  …

  Big Tony sat at his desk counting out hundred-dollar bills until he had five rows of a hundred. “There you go, Kat. Fifty large. That’s a lot of money for a young lady. Don’t go blowing it all on hookers and blow.”

  Kat grinned as she collected her money. “Sage advice, my friend, but it would make for a hell of a party.”

  Big Tony grunted. “You want me to set up another fight for you?”

  Kat shook her head. “I’m going to need a few weeks to heal up. Bertha hits like a mule.” Kat’s face was already black and blue, and if her ribs weren’t broken, they were certainly very bruised.

  “I thought you might say that. But don’t wait too long—people will be talking about this fight for a while. You’ll pull in good money next fight, but if you wait too long…well, you know how it is. People have short memories.”

  Kat stuffed a small handful of bills into her bra. The rest went into her purse. The majority was going into her bank account, but she needed some play money. She’d earned a drink or two, and once the swelling on her face went down, she’d treat herself to a day at the spa. Even tough girls need a little pampering.

  She waved goodbye to Big Tony. “I’ll call you in a couple weeks to talk about the next fight. But no more surprises. If you are throwing me in the ring with monsters like Bertha, I need to eat my Wheaties.”

  Tony grunted. “There are no fighters like Bertha. She’s a freaking tank. I still don’t know how you beat her. I’ve seen her spar with men who couldn’t faze her, and these guys were no joke. Pro fighters.”

  Kat shrugged. “Lucky hit, I guess. Happens to the best of us.”

  As Kat walked out of the office, she could hear Tony mumble under his breath. “Lucky hit, my ass. That took powers.”

  Powers? Kat thought. Did Tony think she cheated or was taking ’roids? She wasn’t sure what he’d meant, but it didn’t matter. She was clean and it had been a lucky, adrenaline filled punch, nothing more.

  2

  Kat

  One of the most dangerous things about underground fights wasn’t the actual fight. It was the walk home. That was real danger. Abandoned warehouses in shady parts of town were not places for nice people. Most taxis wouldn’t go within certain neighborhoods. You could find the odd naïve Uber driver, but they rarely made that mistake twice. Instead of calling for a ride that would never show, she usually walked to a nearby bus or subway station.

  Tonight, flush in cash, she wanted a cab. She needed to get to a bank and deposit some of the cash before she did something foolish. Tomorrow, she’d go talk to her landlord and get an upgrade to her apartment. Mrs. Wilson had recently passed away and her apartment would be on the market. It was only a little bigger than her current one-bedroom, but it had a balcony and a decent view. In theory she could now afford to move to a better neighborhood, but until she had a plan for her new-found windfall, she needed to be careful how she spent her money. The winnings were going to be a game changer for her. No more living paycheck to paycheck. She could even go back to school, get a degree and find a real job. The possibilities were just starting to permeate her mind.

  As Kat walked to the nearby park, an area she was far more confident in getting an Uber from, she heard footsteps behind her. She frowned. It was extremely late, and most of the fight crowd had left far before she had. That someone was behind her going towards the park was possible, but she wasn’t one to play the odds. She had no intentions of being mugged by some loser looking to score drug money.

  When she turned the corner, Kat was met by a blow to the side of her head.

  She fell to the ground, stunned. A man was standing there looking down at her, grinning. He picked her up with one hand and slammed her into the brick building beside them. She could still hear footsteps approaching. Perhaps another fighter making their way home, Kat thought desperately, hoping she had help against this assailant who was throwing her around like a rag doll. Her head was still spinning from the first blow. The heavy blows she was taking made her earlier fight with Bertha look like a Sunday afternoon picnic. The monster who was hitting her could double as a freight train.

  The source of the footsteps came around the corner. Kat pleaded to the gods that it was a fighter, or someone with a gun who’d stop the beating. A skinny man walked around the corner and looked at her. Kat waited for him to yell for help, or maybe pull a weaon, but to Kat’s dismay, he spoke. “Empty her pockets. I’ll check her purse.”

  Kat tried to clutch her purse tight away from the second man, but the first monster simply slammed her against the brick wall again and her purse was ripped away as the air was forced out of her lungs by the blow.

  The second man, a weaselly looking fellow in an overcoat, pulled apart her purse until he found her wallet, stuffed full of money. He took the money and then threw her purse to the ground. He took her cell phone and smashed it against the brick building. “There, that should cover some of the boss’s loss.” Weasel Face looked at Kat. “Nobody likes a cheat. Using powers in an underground fight is lame, kid. You try that shit again and you’ll end up dead.” He then turned to the behemoth holding her up against the building. “Teach her a lesson, Ivan.”

  Ivan started punching her. Powerful blows to her stomach made it feel like she was being struck with a sledgehammer. After three punches, Ivan let her drop to the ground.

  Weasel Face squatted down so his face was near hers. Kat could hardly breathe. He slapped her face softly, mockingly. “Consider that a friendly warning. Next time, Ivan won’t be so gentle.”

  Kat coughed up blood as she watched the two men walk away with her fight money. After a few minutes, she started to get up. Her side hurt like a bitch, but she could move. Kat’s brain hurt and she could hardly think, but her instincts told her she had to keep moving. The injuries she’d suffered weren’t life-threatening, but if she passed out in this neighborhood, it would be a whole new ball game. She forced herself to keep moving.