I reached cross body to grab Stupid's wrist. My other hand went behind his elbow and pushed. Simple leverage started him moving and the arm bar kept him going. He was halfway around the circle before he started screaming. I sent him crashing into Big, dislocating his shoulder in the process.
If Stupid was stupid, Big was worse. When he saw his buddy coming toward him, he put out his hands to block, including the one with the knife. I did not see the blade bite, but I heard it. We would need an ambulance. With the knife out of play, it was trivial to kick the side of Big's knee. He went down, bellowing.
I looked up in time to see Sean sucker punch Boss. Ouch. The Army, or someone, had taught Sean how to pivot for power. He did his best to punch through Boss' sternum. Everything connects to the breast bone and it had to be broken. I just hoped Sean had not broken his hand.
The whole confrontation had taken a minute or two. The fight took only seconds. We spent five hours dealing with the police.
Sean:
Back home I travel with a guard. My staff has three certified martial arts trainers. I think Sheila might take them all down. Everyone comments on how she understands motion on a deeper level than mere mortals. They never consider what that means in a fight. Add a willingness to do permanent damage and you get a dangerous package.
At the time, I thought nothing of the sort. I was focused on giving Sheila a chance to run. One of the three was clearly the leader. I turned to face him and said we didn't want trouble. He said trouble was free and we could have all we wanted, then he laughed at his own joke. Half wit. I settled my weight. Mr. Leader shook his head and lifted his shirt to show a .45 revolver, as if I missed the bulge.
Once he showed the piece, he stood upright, so the bulge was more pronounced. This ruined his balance, interfered with his ability to draw, but it was not the dumbest thing he did. He stopped watching me to check out Sheila. I readied a punch and waited for an opening. Sheila rarely disappoints. This would not be one of the times. In quick succession I heard a high, girlish scream, a thud, and a baritone bellow. Mr. Leader completely forgot about me, so I punched at his solar plexus as a reminder.
That fast, it was over, except for the reports. My punch missed the plexus, but impacted near the sternum. Good enough. That said, I am the first to tell anyone that a job is not done til the paperwork is signed. The truism came home to nest. Spare me cops and their reports. Given the noise, we soon attracted attention. I was still dialing 911 when an elderly woman looked out of a window. I asked her what the address was. She never answered.
The first officials on the scene were Navy Shore Patrol. That would make sense. Mugging seamen is a centuries old tradition. They had no jurisdiction, but I was able to get useful information. Next on scene were the fire department and EMT. This proved fortunate, since one of the thugs was close to bleeding out. Finally, Honolulu PD arrived in force.
Had we been hurt, things would have gone quickly. Muggers hurting tourists is normal. Tourists hurting muggers is unusual. Slightly built women sending knife wielding men to the Emergency Room is strange. They wanted us to explain the strange. When a lawyer called, asking for us, they got insistent.
Curtis is grumpy at three in the morning. He got over it. After the usual, "Don't say anything." he contacted a firm in Honolulu. Within five minutes the firm contacted the police. In half an hour a defense attorney, named Daniel Ngo, arrived and presented credentials. This did not endear us to the police, who kept saying, "If you are innocent, you have nothing to worry about." No one is innocent. Ask a priest.
We spent several minutes giving our story to our lawyer. He obtained statements from the responding officer and made calls to the hospital. That was when we learned one of the thugs almost died. The EMT team was still at the hospital, but the fire crew had returned to the station. Danny promised to get their statement before they went off shift. Everyone forgot about the Shore Patrol until Sheila asked why they were gone.
More calls were made. The two SP at the scene were off duty, but the office faxed their report over. Danny promised to follow up. I asked to talk to the SP Officer of the Day. More eyebrows went up. I told the OD that I was escorting a civilian of military interest and asked him to forward the situation to General Buehrle's office, with copy to the Judge Advocate's office. One of the cops mouthed, "Oh, shit."
With everything going on, it was a wonder they let us go to our hotel about 3:00 AM. Danny Ngo walked us to our room. He unbent enough to say things looked good. Our sceduled departure was an issue, but he expected it to be workable. He wished us good night and left. Before he was out of sight, Sheila had me in a bear hug.
Call me dense. My first reaction was to wonder why Sheila was feeling threatened. It took a minute or two to unravel that she had been afraid for me. The two knife wielding thugs were an inconvenience. She was worried about the .45. She knew, if it came to a choice, that I would sell my life to give her a chance. It was the biggest compliment anyone had ever paid me. I stroked Sheila's hair and promised. I would never let it happen again. I was still reassuring her when she fell asleep.
Some habits are hard to break. I had been up all night at Kwajalein. In Honolulu, we went to bed at 3:30 AM. I was up again at 7:00 AM. My call to Schofield Barracks was quickly routed to General Buehrle himself. It was going to be that sort of day. After listening to the Cliff notes version, his reaction was the same as mine would have been. "Damn, Richards, are you sure you want to be married to that?" I told him to read
Cordelia's Honor
by LM Bujold. He surprised me by getting the reference, saying I thought well of myself. Since I was cast as Aral Vorkosigan, he had a point.
The fallout was that he would send a JAG officer to meet with the police. Sheila and I were due at ten o'clock. Hopefully, between the JAG and Daniel Ngo, our visit would be brief. A call to Curtis informed me that nothing major had happened in the last four hours. A call to Danny Ngo informed me that the smaller thug would survive, but would loose a length of intestine and some use of his arm. His partner would never walk without a cane. In comparison, Mr. Leader only had three broken ribs and a cracked breast bone. Thinking about it made my hand hurt.
I ordered coffee, tea and eggs from room service, then woke Sheila. To my surprise, she ate with appetite. At 9:30 AM Roscoe the driver called up. We loaded our luggage into his SUV. Helping out was the JAG, who had the unlikely name of Mikal Tigranovich Petrosian. On the way to the police station he explained that he was not the son of a world chess champion. Several of his uncles and cousins were named Tigran. When the Grandmaster became famous, the name became a family favorite. I may have made too much of it, but I needed some comic relief.
The police station was exactly what I expected in daylight. Several cops tried to glare and intimidate. One elderly desk Sergeant named Wilson and a female Detective named Rowland found it amusing. I sat, cross armed, and let Captain Petrosian and Danny Ngo do their jobs. Sheila was doing a good imitation of CC. It finally came to a head when a Detective Tanaka said, "If they didn't do anything wrong, why all the legal muscle?" Cpt. Petrosian grinned. Danny Ngo looked disgusted.
Detective Rowland was the one who answered. "Because, Detective, some police officers assume that the Constitution does not apply in Hawaii. They assume the only reason to be careful is to hide guilt. Mr. Richards runs a multi-billion dollar company. Mrs. Richards damn near killed someone in self defense. I think they have reason to be careful.
"Look at her. Do you think someone that looks like that can work at a gym, in New Jersey, and
not
learn some self defense? From the way she moves, she could probably teach classes. She says she did two moves—one throw and one kick. SWAT backs her up on that. So, yeh, someone almost died. He was threatening her with a knife and his partner stabbed him. Why the hell isn't she out enjoying
her honeymoon
?"
From behind us, another voice said, "That's a good question. We have video from the head shop that backs up the whole story, including the timeline. She took down two bigger guys, with knives, in under two seconds. There are no foreign prints on either of the blades. She told the truth, just like you asked, but you didn't believe her. Tanaka, you're off the case. Sorry Sunny, that means you get the paperwork. Wrap it up and get 'em out of here." The speaker was a Captain named Soto.
It wasn't that simple. "Sunny" turned out to be Detective First Class Rowland. She turned us over to Sgt. Wilson. Twenty minutes later we promised to check in before returning to New Jersey. Sheila promised wedding pictures for Sgt. Wilson's wife and Det. Rowland. This quickly expanded to include Danny Ngo's wife and Cpt. Petrosian's girlfriend. For someone remarkably shy, Sheila made friends easily. Danny said good bye. Cpt. Petrosian rode with us to the Navy's small craft pier.
