A new entry in The Recruiting Matter – Mission to Save Eleanor. Jason is at the base of the stair leading into Smith’s house and Findley Brown is at the top. Findley shoots, but Jason’s armor protects him. They fight one more time and the result is the same. Findley is on the ground and unconscious. But a new person is ready to fight Jason and he may be more challenging.
Look for more tomorrow.
Jason – at back stairs of Smith’s house
Findley Brown smiled and fired the pistol once. Something slammed into Jason’s chest and he fell backwards onto the pavement. Jason moved around as Findley fired again and a sledgehammer hit his leg. Then he heard Findley shout “Ow, Shit!” and he heard the gun clatter on the ground. Jason struggled up to his feet using his truncheon as a brace. Findley was holding his arm and a streak of red showed under his fingers. Jason muttered, “Thanks, Charles.”
The voice in his ear replied, “They are through in the basement but matters are tense there. Keep Mr. Brown engaged up here. “
Jason looked at Findley and shook himself to recover from the shots. His chest and leg both hurt badly.
Findley put his sword forward, “McNeill, just like always you never know when to stay down.”
Jason smiled thinly back, “Brown, you can’t understand why people might want to get up. We should all be so happy to have you walk on our backs. Your father is a decent man. How did he ever spawn you?”
Findley snarled, “You little piss ants complain to him and about him. He brought that factory to your little hovel of a town and made it something. But all you ever do is whine that about this and that. And me, does anybody do anything for me? No! You throw a mug of beer at me and I get thrown out of the bar. You bash my face and I am the one threatened by the coppers. “
Jason looked at the sky and said, “You’re delusional. You can’t see any of your mistakes. You can’t see any of your flaws. Your egomania knows no bounds. People like your father. Sure they complain to him. That’s because they trust him. No one likes you Findley. You’re arrogant, selfish, rude, outrageously entitled, and, frankly, Candace, Kimberly and Stephanie are smarter than you as is every person I met in the University. The only reason you got into the University had to be some ridiculous donation your father made to force the University to take you.”
Findley screamed inarticulately and charged Jason with his sword held high. Jason dodged right just as Findley brought the sabre down. Jason brought his truncheon up and tripped Findley as he rushed by and Findley fell on the ground in a pile. He jumped up and snarled, “You worthless, country bumpkin.” And he rushed Jason again. Jason dodged left and brought his stick up hard into Findley’s stomach.
Jason leaned over and hissed into Findley’s ear, “Candace fights better than you.” Findley grunted and slammed his elbow into Jason’s face who staggered back. Findley didn’t charge but instead came forward swinging his sword in cuts right and left. Jason stepped back with each slice holding his stick in front of him. With one swing going down from right to left, Jason trapped Findley’s sword with the stick to the ground, he came in close and head butted Findley who staggered back. He then used the butt end of the stick like a battering ram and slammed it into Findley’s solar plexus. Findley collapsed to his knees with his mouth moving like a fish but getting no air. Jason slammed the stick hard against the side of Findley’s head as he fell down.
Jason looked at Findley and felt his bruised ribs and limped a bit around the prone Findley Brown. Then he heard a long slow clapping from the top of the stairs. The man clapping said, “Well done, Mr. McNeill. Well Done. We’ve been telling poor Mr. Brown for ages his temper would be his undoing.” Jason looked over the stocky man at the top of the stairs. He was dressed like a butler in a grey waist coat. His hair was slicked down with pomade. He was wearing white polishing gloves. Polishing gloves? He had his own truncheon under his arm as he clapped.
Jason said, “You’re not Smith. Who the hell are you?”
The man took his stick in one hand and spread his hands in a slight mock bow and said, “Alfred Redman. Man servant to Winifred Stanhope. Current majordomo to John Smith.” He came back up and held the stick with an easy grip in both hands. “You’ll find I am much harder to get past than Mr. Brown.”
For those who are new to the recruiting matter, The Recruiting Matter Home Page is a good place to learn and start the story.
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