“Feel better?” Krista finally asked, swiping her tongue across Susan’s lips before they both stood up.
“Yes,” Susan said, smiling. “All I ever need to feel good is Zach’s tongue and his cock, it seems.”
“It always makes me feel better,” Krista said with a smile as Zach zipped himself up.
“Thank you, Zach,” Susan said, pulling his head down for a lingering kiss.
There was a knock on the door, then it opened and Mr. Smithers entered.
“Shall we go?” he asked, smiling when he saw that Susan was smiling. “You’re ready for this, Zach?”
“Like I’ve never been ready for anything,” Zach replied. “Let’s go finish this.”
“Your Honor, I object to this witness testifying,” Mr. Jordan said, his nervousness very obvious.
“On what grounds, Mr. Jordan?” Judge Crenshaw asked.
“We don’t know who this person is or what his motivation might be for testifying,” Mr. Jordan replied lamely.
“Which is why he is testifying, Mr. Jordan, so that we may learn,” Judge Crenshaw replied. “Objection overruled. Please raise your right hand,” he said to Zach who was sitting next to Krista.
“I do,” Zach replied to the judge’s swearing in question.
“Mr. Gary, please state your full name, place and date of birth for the record,” Mr. Smithers said.
“Zachary Aristotle Gary,” Zach replied, smiling when Krista laughed. “I was born on August 18, 1993 in San Jose, California.”
“And do you recognize anyone in this room?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Sure,” Zach replied, “you, Susan, Krista, the FBI agents in the back, and him, Quinn Kumms,” he said fixing Quinn with a look of impending death.
“Let us start with Miss Hill,” Mr. Smithers said. “How do you know her and what is the status of your relationship?”
“I met Krista about four months ago when I got knocked out in an MMA fight,” Zach replied. “She was the official photographer in the ring. She then visited me in the hospital.”
“Go on,” Mr. Smithers prompted.
“I received a medical suspension for six months because I was knocked out, so I decided to do my recovery and come-back training in Manaus, Brazil, where there was a dojo that I knew of that was quite renowned for its Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu training, something that I felt was a weakness in my arsenal. Mr. Johnson, the MMA promoter in California, proposed that I allow Krista to document my recovery process and offered to cover all of the costs. It was an offer too good to refuse,” Zach explained.
“We went to Manaus and found an apartment and I began my training,” Zach continued. “We hadn’t been there long, not even a week, when there was a huge fire in a building near to where we were staying. I actually saw it burning during my morning run with the rest of the dojo students. That evening Krista and I went to dinner and were walking back, passing by where the fire had been. Everything was still smoldering. We were crossing a little alley when we heard a woman cry out for help. The next thing I knew, Krista was charging blindly into the alley, so I went after her.”
“I came upon a scene where a big man was on top of a woman who was struggling and screaming while another man held her hands and arms above her head,” Zach explained. “I just reacted and kicked the man on top of her with a flying side kick. I caught him perfectly at the base of his neck and felt it snap as he fell over. I then grabbed the man holding the lady’s arms, Susan’s arms, and struggled with him, but he got away after slicing my leg open with a knife. While we were struggling, I heard a gunshot right behind me. When I turned around after the man ran off — I had hyperextended, breaking then twisting his elbow and his arm was going to be crippled for life — I saw another man on the ground with a knife sticking out of his low back and Susan lying on the ground crying. Her dress had been ripped away and she was practically naked.”
“Did anyone say anything during all of this ado?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“I had heard someone say something to the effect of hurry, then kill her, and to get the braid as proof for Quinn,” Zach replied.
“Your Honor, I object,” Mr. Jordan said wearily. “This is hearsay.”
“I’ll take your objection under advisement, Mr. Jordan,” Judge Crenshaw said. “Please continue, Mr. Gary.”
“My leg was killing me and I could feel the blood running down my leg,” Zach continued. “I wasn’t sure how bad it was, but I knew that it was bad. I picked Susan up — she seemed to be injured — and carried her to our apartment. She and Krista got the bleeding somewhat under control and then Krista called our friends who came with a doctor who stitched me up.”
“Could you please show us this injury, Mr. Gary?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Uh, I’m not wearing any underwear,” Zach said, blushing.
“We’re all adults here,” Mr. Smithers said, smiling. “I’m sure that we’ll survive.”
When Zach lowered his trousers to show the scar, his big cock dangling in front of him, the judge and Mr. Jordan both looked shock by the size of it, the scar.
“Another couple of inches to the side and I’d be singing soprano,” Zach said as he pulled his trousers up, then sat back down.
“What happened after that?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Not a lot,” Zach replied. “I wasn’t in very good condition, couldn’t really stand up or walk, and Susan was quite beat up. Her right hip had taken quite a blow and she could barely stand. It took her three days before she could start moving around the apartment and I was just stuck in bed. Our friends bought groceries for us and listened for news about what had happened. When Susan explained the significance of the name Quinn and we learned about her, who she was, things like that, I realized that this had been a deliberate hit by a team and that whoever had contracted it, Quinn, we assumed, wasn’t going to stop until they had gotten what they wanted, which appeared to be Susan dead.”
“Your Honor, I object to the witness speculating,” Mr. Jordan said.
“Mr. Jordan, once again, this is not a trial, it is an administrative hearing and the rules of evidence are more relaxed,” Judge Crenshaw said. “I am perfectly capable of separating speculation from fact, I assure you.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Mr. Jordan said.
“Objection overruled,” Judge Crenshaw said. “Please continue, Mr. Gary.”
“I knew that Susan needed to get out of Manaus as soon as possible, but she was still recovering and I was in no shape to go anywhere,” Zach continued.
“Why would you consider going anywhere?” Mr. Smithers asked. “This wasn’t your problem. You weren’t being hunted.”
“I am a mixed martial arts fighter,” Zach replied. “I have studied the martial arts for more than 15 years. My studies have coalesced around the Japanese concept of Bushido, which is an overarching term for all the codes, practices, philosophies, and principles of samurai culture. Though it had its origins at the end of the Heian period of 794–1185, it wasn’t until the Edo period of 1603–1868 that it was formally defined and applied in law by the Tokugawa shogunates, following Confucian texts, while also being influenced by Shinto and Zen Buddhism. Essentially, it allows for the violent existence of the samurai, a warrior, to be tempered by wisdom, patience, and serenity. Part of Bushido is protecting the innocent and the weak, particularly women, old people, and children. It’s a part of my DNA and I cannot ignore its call. I was also pretty angry about my leg being sliced open. That was going to set my training back by at least six months.”
“Then you had a chivalrous reaction?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“I suppose you could describe it that way,” Zach agreed, smiling. “Everything about the whole incident smelled and felt wrong. Susan, even in the beginning, it was obvious that she was a very special person. There was just no way that I was going to let anyone mess with her. Besides, my training was over because of my injured leg. I had nothing better to do.”
“What happened next?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“From everything that I had learned, I felt that whoever, Quinn, wouldn’t do anything before hearing from his hit team. He would also wait until the identifications of the bodies in the fire were made public. When that happened and throwing Susan’s absence into the mix, I felt that she had only a matter of weeks before the hunt for her would resume. I knew that she needed to leave Manaus and hide somewhere.”
“And you were going to go with her?” Mr. Smithers asked.
“Krista and I both felt that we wanted to help her,” Zach replied.
“I can just imagine,” Mr. Jordan interrupted sarcastically. “I penniless thug fighter finds a desperate, wealthy older woman. I’m sure you saw the profit potential and that your motivation wasn’t purely altruistic.”