1511 A.D
Back Alleys of Hufuf
The sun shone brightly upon the cubical buildings, its heat frying the brains of would-be travelers and its light illuminating every activity on the street. The Major Mamluk monuments typically consisted of multi-functional complexes which could combine various elements such as a patron's mausoleum, a Marassa, a khanqah (a Sufi lodge), a mosque, a sabil, or other charitable functions found in Islamic architecture. These complexes were built with increasingly complex floor plans reflecting the need to accommodate limited urban space and a desire to visually dominate their urban environment. Their architectural style was also distinguished by increasingly elaborate decoration, which began with pre-existing traditions like stucco and glass mosaics but eventually favored carved stone and marble mosaic paneling. Among the most distinguished achievements of Mamluk architecture were their ornate minarets and carved stone domes.
But there was plenty of space to go around. For the Mamluk political atmosphere was full of conflict. It was a natural result of what the Mamluks had once been. Slave soldiers, given salaries, have taken power back from their masters, now in a state of constant feud. True, it built great warriors but there was much corruption, as seen in the back alleys of Hufuf. There were tents and open alleyways, as though a different kind of world was present in a peaceful city. This world was, of course, present in every city: the criminal underworld.
Illegal items of purchase such as Mamluk armor and cheap spices were sold so frequently that the guardsmen themselves were often there, to be given a protection fee as well as partake in the taking of goods from people far too rich, a kind of check against the rise of politically influential merchants. In their minds, those that controlled the flow of cash would control the world.
Such issues mattered to a thief hanging above the roof of a lodge. Her pale dark skin made for a useful cover in the night. She could have made it darker but she didn’t want to offend the locals too much. It made men find her alluring, though her red eyes were something she could not change no matter the disguise she took. Along with her 5-foot tall stature, clear face, and slim body, most would have assumed that she was barely a teenager Which she was but she wasn’t going to let anyone know that.
To make herself appear more attractive to customers, she wore a belly dancer's costume. The costume most commonly associated with belly dance was the bedlah style, which typically includes a fitted top or bra, a fitted hip belt, and a full-length skirt or harem pants. She wore a white bra, a yellow fitted hip belt, and a full-length purple skirt. All in all, she made for a wonderful attraction.
Not that her main course of action was seduction. It was a useful tool for escape as a pickpocket and thief but its protection was not guaranteed in these times. There were far prettier women than her around and they had the awful misfortune of being slaves. There were punishments against masters who treated slaves wrongly but those were no longer being enforced. A sad look crossed her face
Waving away her idle thought, She sat up and ran through the hidden pockets of her pants. She had two knives, a false bag to replace the one carried by the merchant prowling around nearby, her looks, and a fire bomb in case things went sour. She made her way toward the edge of the roof. On the side of the wall below her were two windows, each placed above the other. With the precision of a cat, she closed the gap between them and stepped down into the streets.
2099 A.D
Back Alleys of Rawalpindi
Adam drove through the streets. They seemed a mockery of time. Once, these streets had been bustling with people. There was a rule in the world of Rawalpindi, that it had items available that were cheap there but not elsewhere. For instance, a car engine that might cost thousands of dollars at an official market used to cost far less here. Plus, there were many shops and restaurants to alleviate the average Pakistani’s day.
Maybe I’m just going crazy, thought Adam
The streets were dead empty now. But then again, it was also 4 a.m and Adam hadn’t visited Rawalpindi in ages. He’d only come here to meet with his client. Perhaps when it was morning, he could visit again to eat the delicious jalebi and patakha chicken sold in different areas. Like a trip down memory lane.
Memory…
Adam’s thoughts trailed off as he missed a turn. While glancing to the side, he noticed an odd gathering. A large man wearing a brown jacket with a light brown salwar kameez stood at attention, with a group of four paying eyes on him. The four were similarly dressed but their clothes were in tatters and they were carrying bottles.
Adam stopped the car and looked around his seat. He opened his drawer and found his revolver. He was no cop, he couldn’t arrest people. But having a gun on him might make people think twice. He got out his holster, loaded the gun in, and opened the door, curious to see what the gathering was about. He noticed the bullets in the still-open drawer. He closed the drawer, and the door and went to the scene to see what was happening. His helmet was still on in case someone aimed for the head.
As he suspected, it was not a friendly gathering. The large man held a book, that was dotted with Arabic symbols and strange signs. He spoke first.
“Gentlemen, I believe I have had my share of philosophy with you and I shall take my leave.”
Out of the shadows emerged, much to Adam’s disbelief, a much larger man. Well, fatter at the very least. The height was more or less the same but it was like an orangutan had shown up. His footsteps seemed to make the earth shake.
He bellowed “So, you think you are better than us, chawal? You think that book of yours gives you protection over us?”
The bookholder replied, “I, uh, no, I’m just reading it 'cause I like to read this stuff.”
The massive man simply said, “I see.” Then he gestured to his comrades. One of them brought out a steel can with bits of garbage in it. He lit a match and threw it in, lighting it on fire. Confused, Adam almost failed to see the massive man pull out his pistol.
Shit, he’s armed
One of the others held a crowbar. He hit the book with the crowbar and instantly slammed it into the fire. The victim appeared frozen with shock, only for him to quickly dive his hands in and pull his book out of the fire. Strangely, it was unharmed. The group began to laugh.
The man was upset. He yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The massive man turned to him and said “The same thing that is wrong with everyone else in this country. They say things, they say about doing things but until they get personally harmed, they don’t do anything. For that book, you were willing to put your hands into the fire. This is the trait of a madman. Why don’t you dance for us, chawal?”
With that, he pulled out his pistol and fired. Adam froze. This violence was unnatural to him. The sound of paper tearing could be heard. For moments that appeared to last forever, all was still.
He was fine. The book, on the other hand, had a bullet lodged in it. The group began to laugh, calling the man all kinds of insults in Urdu. There were certain words Adam could not translate but it was clear that chawal was an insult.
I admire the victim’s restraint. I would have punched the massive man by now.
The victim slugged the massive man in the face, knocking him back slightly.
Well, so much for that.
Adam ran towards the group, intent on stopping further violence. The man who got punched smiled. One of his friends spoke to him.
“Maroof, come on, let's beat his ass!” Maroof holstered his gun. He beckoned his colleagues forward, clearly intent on just watching
Adam rushed forward. There was no arguing now. They heard his footsteps and the man with the crowbar walked toward him with two other people
RAWALPINDI THUGS.
The trio rushed at Adam with the crowbar taking the lead. To which Adam responded by turning his back. His allies were confused, “Crowbar” rushed at Adam alone and swung his bat where Adam stood. It hit nothing but air as Adam felt the movement of the weapon. He backhanded Crowbar, able to smell the alcohol reeking from these thugs. Following this, he turned around and kicked him, barely knocking him on his ass. As Crowbar began to stand up, Adam took his helmet off and proceeded to beat him senseless with it. Blood sprayed from the crowbar's mouth and nose. His allies attempted to surround Adam.
This could be an issue
Adam began to scream, thumping at his chest as he did so, confusing his enemies. He grabbed Crowbar by the legs and picked him up. Then he began to turn and twist, going around in a hurricane-like manner. He let Crowbar’s legs go to the right of them and the man landed on both of his allies, flattening them
The three stood up again. Now enraged, they rushed at Adam, swinging their fists at the same time. Crowbar aimed down while the other two were on the sides. Adam stepped backward, causing the two allies to smash each other with their fists, each of them hitting the other. In the instant that Crowbar’s guard was down, Adam grabbed him by the neck and held it in his neck, twisting and turning again as Crowbar’s legs knocked his allies down again. Adam threw Crowbar away and focused on one of the enemies. He knelt and grabbed his opponent's head.
Ah, now this is life.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
He brought it back down with a smack. And forth and back and forth and back. And back and forth until blood came off the opponent’s head.
As the other combatant began to regain his bearings, Adam grappled him. Picking him like an orangutan, Adam smashed the thug’s body on top of his friend. He then grabbed both legs, jumped into the air, and smashed the pair on their backs with a resounding thud.
There’s just nothing like justifiable self mugging
Adam searched through their pants, finding a nice pair of 100s and 10s. He turned toward Crowbar, who was edging away from him. The massive man was right behind him. He grabbed Crowbar from the back and threw him away.
“You idiots, let me show you how it’s done. We’re gonna take your clothes little man, and strangle you with them.”
If this was a video game, Adam could already hear the boss's battle music.
MASSIVE MAN
MAROOF
Maroof lunged at Adam with the grace of a hippo, with Adam deftly dodging to the side. Adam struck him in the side but the man barely flinched. Seems like there was muscle underneath all that fat. Maroof turned around and spat at Adam. Disgusted and distracted, Maroof swiped at Adam, easily throwing him at the nearby wall.
What the hell?
Maroof pounced at Adam, clearly far more agile than he first appeared. He launched a series of blows at Adam’s face, who took them in stride. At the right moment, Adam punched him in the throat, robbing him of air. Pushing the foe off, Adam started his punches at the man. He pushed off the man, afraid to also get throat punched.
The two foes stood upright again. Maroof readied into a boxing stance. He was a trained combatant. He came at Adam with a couple of well-rounded swings, hoping to tear Adam’s head off. Adam merely avoided the blows, sidestepping the massive man until inspiration struck. He countered a punch and put out two of his fingers, jabbing them into Maroof's eyes. The foes turned around in pain, allowing Adam to try a chokehold from the back. Things were going well.
Then Maroof pulled a petty knife out of his boot and attempted to stab Adam’s hand. Panicked, Adam let go and was rewarded with a headbutt from the tyrant. Maroof stabbed forward, clearly hoping to impale Adam, who recalled his self-defense training and grabbed Maroof’s arms in a ploy to stop him. Maroof pushed him forward, towards a wall. Try as he could, Adam was repeatedly slammed into the wall while having to hold off the knife.
He couldn’t reach his gun. Both of his hands were occupied with the knife.
Wait, what happened to the victim?
“Shouldn’t have intervened, bitch. I was only having a bit of fun with my prey. Now I’m serious. Now you should know,” Maroof whispered into Adam’s ear, clearly overpowering him in terms of strength “That I’m just getting started.”
A hand knocked on Maroof’s back.
“Excuse me” replied the aforementioned prey “You forgot something.”
The aforementioned victim elbowed Maroof in the face, staggering him and making him drop his knife. Maroof turned around and lunged at the newcomer, who immediately responded by kicking him in the dick. Momentarily put off, the man then slammed both of his fists into Maroof, discombobulating him. Holding Maroof’s head with his fists, the man jumped and slammed his knee into Maroof’s face. Dazed and hurt, Maroof swung wildly and was rewarded by a bench for his efforts.
The newcomer smashed a wooden bench over Maroof’s body.
“Was that necessary?” Asked Adam.
“Yes.” Replied the stranger. He continued to talk “Look, he’s already getting up. His face is like a brick wall.”
“Yeah,” agreed Adam “A brick wall that feels pain and cries a lot.”
Maroof was not crying. He reached for his gun, only to notice its absence from his holster. He attempted to grab the stranger, only for his hands to grab Adam’s hands instead. The two were now locked in. Maroof began to squeeze.
“Had enough?” cried out Maroof. He squeezed harder. Adam’s expression did not change. He too began to squeeze and cracks could be heard. Grip strength was a lot different than brute strength.
“Oh no,” said Maroof. Adam squeezed more and bent the arms down. Seeing someone with far less body mass than his opponent wrestle him down was a strange sight. Maroof screamed in agony and went for a head butt. Adam replied in kind, moving his head back as Maroof’s head came forward. Then he smashed his head forward into Maroof, stunning him.
Adam twisted Maroof’s arms and turned him around towards the stranger. The stranger spat into his hands and slapped Maroof repeatedly. He launched a volley of punches at Maroof’s front but it was coordinated as if he was searching for something.
His punches were light and around the lower part of Maroof’s body. His eyes seemed to glow in a sort of ‘There it is’ manner, as he fired a kick straight into Maroof’s left side. Maroof vomited and fell over. A liver shot. He attempted to stand. At this point, Adam and the stranger began rapidly kicking him in a juvenile manner, Adam at Maroof’s back, the stranger at Maroof’s face.
Maroof was not yet beaten. He rose to the earth with the force of a thousand suns. He shook off Adam and turned to the stranger…who pulled out Maroof’s pistol. Maroof tried to grab it.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three bullets, straight into Maroof’s chest. The main barely seemed to stagger and seemed to resonate sheer malice. His knees buckled and he looked up at the stranger. The stranger grabbed a teapot.
Where did he get that from?
He smashed it into Maroof’s face and opened it, pouring hot tea into his face. Maroof screamed in agony. He attempted to stand. He threw a wild haymaker at the stranger, who grabbed an umbrella from the floor. The umbrella had a hook end. The stranger flipped the umbrella, used the hook end to pull Maroof towards him, and then kicked him back.
How is he not down yet? How durable is he? How durable am I? Questions for later
Maroof screamed some more and picked up his knife. He turned around and four fists struck his face. He dropped the knife and attempted to kick Adam. His foot met a wall, the same wall where he had slammed Adam earlier. Adam took hold of his leg and smashed his elbows on top of it. He grabbed a loose brick and smashed it upon Maroof's face.
The stranger revealed a bat from his back.
What?
The stranger smashed the bat down upon Maroof’s head. Blood trickled down from his face. But he wasn’t finished.
“The buffoon is flummoxed. He’s flummoxed!” raged the stranger and smashed his bat through Maroof, sending him flying in a roll through the dirt. Adam followed the stranger in his rage and yelled most profusely “Fuck yeah! AAAAAGHH!”
With one final burst of rage, Adam took hold of Maroof’s arms and pulled them apart.
Crunch!
Went the sound of Maroof’s arms, a clear sign of dislocation. With the stranger’s help, the two picked up Maroof. The stranger picked up Maroof from the middle while Adam punched his head forward. The stranger bent backward and let go, smashing Maroof’s face with the blistering road, ending the dirty duel.
Adam panted, trying to catch his breath. It had been a while since he had fought like that. It felt…good.
His new friend agreed and began to pee on top of Maroof.
Talk about insult to injury.
“And that,” spoke his friend “is how you gave the devil his due. Damn it, ruined my one-liner.”
He turned towards Adam. He bowed, as he began to speak “Hello, my name is Qasim. How do you do?”
Adam glanced around. There was a thud remaining but he didn’t seem too courageous at the moment. He turned and walked away. This was a serendipity of a situation for Adam, a fight with no legal consequences. He took a long breath and smelled…smoke? He turned around and noticed the stranger still holding the gun.
Oh right. He better dispose of that.
Adam did not give his name as he began to speak “Hey man, you better get rid of that?”
“Huh?”
“The gun. The one you shot him with.”
“Oh. Uh, you think he’ll live?”
“Let me check.”
Adam put on his helmet and activated his specs, checking Maroof’s vitals. The blue screen inside the helmet told him that Maroof was built like a tank. The bullets had penetrated his fat but they hadn’t gone much further in. He noticed that Maroof had moved unusually fast so he sent out a search. Using the helmet was odd for anyone. It would track brain signals and pop up a screen inside. It was a bit like a concentration-based tool that requires the use of machines embedded in Adam. The technology freaked him out but he couldn’t deny its usefulness.
After a short pause, the screen made a ping. Maroof Jannat was a bodyguard for Phoenix Armory, a private military in Pakistan. He held the position of Sniper and was part of a counter-sniper squad.
What the devil is he doing here?
Adam searched his profile but it was blank. Private information like that could only be accessed by the police. With a sigh, Adam concentrated on the anonymous message function and send out word that there had been signs of a fight at his current location.
Adam took off the helmet and talked once more to Qasim
“He’s fine. Pretty sure he’s got a gene mod for damage. Either that or he’s just built differently. At any rate, I’ve contacted the police and we should skedaddle on out of here.”
“Skedaddle? Wait, what about this gun?”
“Just wipe it with a cloth. Forensics won’t be able to check it.”
“No, I’m fairly certain they can”
What? How? If the DNA is gone, there’s no way for forensics to check. And Maroof has a job, no way he’s gonna talk about this incident. He could try to spin things in his favor but Phoenix would investigate him far more thoroughly than us, they’ve got a reputation to keep.
“What would you want to do then? Just dump it in a ditch.”
“What if a stranger picks it up and fires?”
This guy is more paranoid than I am. He doesn’t want to dump it and he doesn’t want to keep it. I sure as hell don’t want it, I’ve got a license for mine. I…wait. My client, his bio said he likes guns. Maybe I can go over there, congratulate him on the deal and leave the gun on his counter. An easy case of forgotten property. If he returns it, that officially makes it mine. And if he keeps it, no harm done. Perfect.
“Fine. I got a better idea. I know a guy who likes guns. We’ll drop it at his place. If he returns it to us, it’s officially ours and if he doesn’t, it’s his problem then.”
“I feel like this could backfire. Are you sure that’s the rule?”
“If it isn’t, I’ll buy you some patakha chicken. Let’s go.” Adam beckoned Qasim towards his car. They walked along the scene of the crime that they caused, the thugs beginning to get back up. They walked a bit faster to the car and sat in.
“Damn,” said Qasim. “Is this a Ferrari?”
“What? No, this is just a Shelby. You don’t know cars if you thought this was a Ferrari.” The car was a slick shade of black, with brown handles on the doors. The real prize of this particular vehicle was its internal hardware, small computers, connected to a series of buttons, that would enable Adam to perform a variety of functions. For now, he simply took out his phone and checked the route back to his previous client.
Maroof watched them leave, with a strange glint in his eyes.