Date: 11 Aug 00 10:03:56
From: rimshot@planetaccess.com
Subject: Paper Tiger 2

Sorry this has taken so long.  I've been very busy with summer things and
work.  Please send me any critiques or suggestions, and thanks for those
that have already been sent.

rimshot@planetaccess.com


Paper Tiger 2:

	Tyler landed flat on his back, knocking the air out of him.  He
rolled towards the edge of the mats and got to his hands and knees,
blinking up at Rocky.  He cradled his ribs where Rocky's kick had caught
him off guard.

	Rocky put his hand son his hips and looked disgusted.  "For
Christ's sake, Tyler, my grandma could've defended that.  What the hell is
the matter with you today?"  They were working out on a large patio at the
far end of the roof top gardens of the Western Palace.  The sun had been up
only about thirty minutes, and a dry breeze blew gently across the area.

	"I'm sorry.  I was thinking about San Diego."  Tyler stood up and
stretched out his chest, rubbing the impact area with his hand.  "I've
never been out of Las Vegas."

	"That'll be a great excuse when some prick who's actually in the
here and now waxes you ass because you were thinking about something else.
Now get in the fucking game!"

	Tyler exhaled slowly, feeling calmness flood through his mind.  His
eyes became clear and focused, and when Rocky came at him, he was ready.
His mother had sent him to Karate and Tae Kwon Do class for years to get
him out of the house and out of her hair, and Rocky had tapped into what he
had learned and was sharpening it to a razor's edge.

	Rocky launched an all out attack, determined to teach Tyler a
lesson in concentration.  He threw punch after punch, pleased when Tyler
seemed to effortlessly deflect them, then spun with a series of kicks.
Finally Tyler was into it, and he intensified his attack.

	Tyler felt the tempo change, and suddenly knew that there was a new
element to this fight.  Rocky was not beyond hurting him to teach him a
lesson, and he focused hard on anticipating each move.  Rocky swept his
feet, and he fell to the mat and immediately rolled back up, landing a kick
to Rocky's stomach.

	Rocky went slightly off balance, and Tyler took the initiative,
taking the attack to the attacker.  Now Rocky defended himself, and Tyler
threw kick after kick, followed by a set of punches.  Rocky lifted a hand
to slap away a kick, and Tyler changed the arc at the last second, sending
Rocky flying off the mats onto his back.

	"Oh, god."  Rocky breathed heavily, rubbing his chest.  He looked
up at Tyler and smiled.  "If I could get you to do that every time, you'd
be ten feet tall and bullet proof."  He laid his head back and closed his
eyes.

	Tyler walked over and sat down cross-legged next to Rocky and put
his head on the other's stomach.  "It's hard to fight you, Rock.  I'm
sorry."

	Rocky patted Tyler's head.  "If you can beat me, you can take
anyone, Tyler.  The emotions thing is what holds you back.  Did you bring
up the swimming suits?"  Tyler nodded.  "I think we're done here.  Let's do
a few laps and go get breakfast, 'kay?"

	An hour later, Tyler walked into his room and threw his spandex
workout shorts towards his closet, then pulled off his speedo.  He was sore
and stiff, and headed for the shower.  In forty minutes, they would leave
with the advance party for San Diego, Carlos and Rocky and himself in one
vehicle, and six of Carlos' top men in another.

	The hot water beat on his sore shoulders as he soaped up and washed
his hair.  At Rocky's suggestion, he wore it in a ponytail when they were
on business, keeping it from getting in the way.  He shaved and brushed his
teeth, and stopped for a minute, noticing his own reflection.

	Tyler had always been cut and defined, but kind of thin.  Now, he
noticed, after three weeks working out with Rocky every day, he was putting
on mass, especially in his shoulders and chest.  His legs were also
thicker, and Tyler blushed and smiled at his own vanity.

	He dressed in one of his favorite styles of shirt, a high necked
very stretchy short sleeved one that fit his body like a glove, and was a
material that appeared to be made out of shiny metal.  This one was royal
blue, and he pulled on black cargo shorts and sandals with it.  Almost
routinely, he stuffed his pistol into the right pocket of his pants and fit
it into the sewn in holster there.

	He'd packed enough things last night for a two-day trip, and
grabbed his bag on the way to the living room.  Rocky's bag was near the
front door, and Tyler picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.  "Kelly,
I'm taking the bags down!"  He called towards Rocky's room, and then pulled
open the door.

	Carlos was outside by the vehicles talking to one of his men.  The
cars they were taking, a beige Lincoln for Carlos and Rocky and Tyler, and
two Mercury Grand Marquis for the others, sat near the entrance to the
hotel.

	"Hey, Tyler."  Carlos smiled as the kid walked up.  "Rumor has it
you put Rocky on the mat this morning, eh?  Bueno."  He patted Tyler on the
back.

	"Accurate, but missing a shit load of details, boss."  Tyler
grinned and set their bags into the trunk of the Lincoln and closed it.

	"You can fill me in on the way.  Where is that handsome rogue,
anyway?"

	"He was putting something on the laptop.  I'll go back up."  Tyler
went to head for the doors, but felt Carlos' hand on his arm.

	"There he is.  You want to drive?"  Carlos looked at Tyler and
pointed at the car.

	"Sure." Tyler grinned and went over to the door, knowing that Rocky
wasn't real sold on his driving skills.  On the other hand, he needed the
practice.  Carlos chuckled and shook his head.

	It was a long drive, and Carlos eventually took the wheel.  Rocky
used a laptop with a DVD player to show Tyler the layout of Andrew
McAuliffe's home where the meeting would take place, and gave him details
on who would be there, what was expected of him, and how many guards Manny
would have present.

	The other two cars went straight to the hotel, while Carlos took
them to a private terminal at the airport.  They got out and stretched in
the enormous hanger, waiting for Manny's plane.  Several of Manny's guards
were already there, and had secured the building.  Carlos went around and
introduced Tyler to them, speaking to each like family, and laughing often,
telling corny jokes.

	Tyler decided he liked Carlos more than he thought, and that he
admired his way with people.  He bought his loyalty with the family's men,
he didn't demand it.  A loud roar of jet engines approached, and the turned
to see a sleek Lear Jet making its way in from the tarmac.  It coasted in
towards the center of the hangar, and the pilot shut down the engines as
they approached.

	The door opened down, becoming a set of steps, and Manny Rivera
moved nimbly down, followed by an older man, Morgan Larsen from his
picture, and a tall black man, Ron McAuliffe.  Rocky, Tyler, and Carlos met
them as they came out.

	"Ah, you boys had to wait to long, eh?"  Manny embraced Carlos and
kissed his cheek.  "We took forever getting out of Mexico City."

	"Not to long, Papa."  Carlos turned to Morgan Larsen and smiled
warmly.  "Uncle Morgan, you promised to come visit sooner."

	Larsen, a thin balding man of mid fifties seemed genuinely warmed
by Carlos' greeting and shook his hand.  "I tried too, boy, but your dad
keeps me busy."  He stepped aside so Carlos could shake McAuliffe's hand.

	"I'm starved."  Manny led the band towards the Lincoln.  "Let's go
to that seafood place I like.  Morgan can buy."

	"You're all heart, Manny."  Larsen bent to get in the back seat.

	At dinner, Manny told them about the beautiful resort that they
were buying, and about the plans to triple it in size in a year and a half.
Tyler listened to them as the men talked, charmed by their jokes and
obvious friendships.

	"How are your studies going?"  Manny caught Tyler completely off
guard, looking into his eyes.  "My instructions were that you were to be
ready soon.  Are you?"

	"I am, sir."

	"Good.  I think you'll be with this family a long time."  Manny
raised his wine glass in a toast.  "To the family."

	Later that night, at the hotel, Tyler disgustedly quit trying to
pretend he was asleep and got out of bed.  The small amount of light that
came in through the seam between the curtains cast his muscular body in
relief as he padded naked across the room to the window.  He slid the
curtains open slightly, looking out over the beach and moon lit waves.

	He was excited for tomorrow, or rather later today, and he was
frightened at the same time.  It was one thing to travel armed.  It was
another thing to really know if he could use his weapon when the time came.
Not to mention that he really had an aversion to getting shot.  He was so
wrapped up in his thoughts that he startled when he felt Rocky's arms wrap
around his chest.  "Jesus!"  Tyler hissed.

	"Calm down.  I didn't mean to scare you."  Rocky squeezed Tyler in
his arms.  "Why aren't you in bed?  It's three in the morning."

	"I couldn't sleep.  I keep thinking about the meeting, and not
fucking up."  Tyler leaned back against Rocky's hard chest and felt himself
relax a bit.

	"You need some sleep, Ty.  You make more mistakes because of being
tired than anything else."  Rocky took the kid's hand and led him towards
his own bed, holding up the covers for Tyler to climb in.  "You still have
time to get some sleep.  You have to train yourself to shut down."

	Tyler slid into Rocky's bed and rolled onto his side.  Rocky
climbed in and slid up to Tyler's back, his arm snaking around Tyler's
chest.  It took humongous effort, but Tyler finally settled in and relaxed.
Rocky stroked his chest and stomach, and Tyler finally drifted off.

	All of the exciting images that Tyler had conjured up in his
imagination about the meeting did not come to pass.  In fact, by the end of
the second day, he had to stifle yawns as he stood behind Morgan Larsen and
watched the door and windows.

	The conference room in McAuliffe's home was huge.  The double
doors, framed with marble columns, were heavy oak.  Just inside the doors
to the left was a wet bar and serving area, then a long wall of full-length
windows.  The other two walls were oak paneling that matched the doors.  In
the center of the room sat an enormous table.  Its oval shape was
surrounded by soft chairs, and several water pitchers were set at certain
locations.

	Manny sat at one end of the table with Larsen to his right and
Carlos to his left.  McAuliffe sat at the other end with two of his aids,
and several men that Tyler had not been introduced to sat in between.
Early in the first day, an unpleasant fat man by the name of Little Tony
Salieri had arrived, and had immediately started bitching about being left
out, and about how friends didn't act like that, etc.

	Tyler was shocked by the vulgarity the fat man used, since most of
the men he knew in this room were very civil to each other, and rarely
swore.  Little Tony seemed to use his curses as a battering ram, obviously
infuriating Carlos and Manny.  Ron and Morgan just looked disgusted.

	The second day of the meeting had shown little progress, and
tempers were short.  Tyler accepted a glass of coke from one of Ron's men
and thanked him.  He looked up to see Rocky looking out the window through
the curtains, a funny expression on his face.  Rocky glanced at Tyler,
tapped his fingers on his cheeks telling Tyler to keep his eyes open, then
tapped Carlos on the shoulder.  The two made their way out of the room.

	Tyler's pulse quickened.  He was alone right now.  There were two
of McAuliffe's men in the room, but that was it.  No other guards.  He felt
his palm get sweaty.  He had been leaning on a credenza behind Carlos so he
could see Morgan clearly.  Now he stood up carefully, not wanting to
interrupt the meeting.  Slowly he moved slightly towards the head of the
table, his hands loose at his sides.

	Manny looked up at him, concern on his face.  Tyler heard a funny
noise, like a snick, and he and Manny looked down the table where it had
come from.  A small red stain was spreading across Ron's white shirt, and
he looked at Manny, surprised, then pitched forward onto the table.

	Without thinking, Tyler dove across the table and took Manny and
Larsen over backwards in their chairs.  He heard chairs being pushed out
and voices wondering what was going on, and Salieri ran to the doors and
pulled them open.  Tyler looked up as the fat man left the room.  Seconds
later, Rocky and Carlos burst through the door and each took Manny by the
shoulders and pulled him towards the door.

	"Stay down!"  Rocky ordered.  "Stay with Morgan!"

	Tyler nodded and pulled the old man behind the bar near the door.
Suddenly the glass windows shattered in a barrage of automatic fire several
of the men in the room were hit and went down, and Tyler threw himself over
Larsen, shielding him.  It stopped as suddenly as it had started, and
Tyler's skin began to crawl.  He pulled his pistol out of his cargo pants
and looked carefully around the end of the bar.

	"Oh, shit."  He mumbled.  Three men were making their way in from
the patio.  Two had some kind of small machine guns, and one had a shotgun.
Tyler aimed and fired, hitting one of the guys with the machine gun in the
chest, dead center.  He watched the man crumple, and then looked up to see
the other two aim at him.  "Fuck!"

	The mirror over the bar disintegrated, sending glass down on them,
and Morgan covered his face and screamed.  Tyler silently prayed that the
bar was thick wood.  Two shots went off from somewhere outside, and the
bullets stopped.  He stole a glance around the bar, and the other guy with
a machine gun went down.  The guy with the shotgun, a white haired man with
a ponytail, saw Tyler and fired.

	The round from the shotgun hit the marble behind him, and Tyler
gasped as he felt several of the pellets and some shards of stone
ricocheted into his right shoulder.  "Aaaagh!"  He screamed, falling
against the bar.  A blaze of white-hot pain coursed across his back and
shoulder, and for a second it made him light headed.

	There was the sound of crunching glass, and Tyler realized the
white haired man was coming.  His face contorted into a fierce grimace, and
a low guttural roar started way down in side him and began to rise from his
throat.  He stood up and aimed in one motion, screaming with rage, and
fired the rest of the rounds in his gun at the man with the shotgun,
hitting him repeatedly in the chest.  The man fell, and Tyler ejected the
clip and slammed in another, ready to continue firing.

	"Tyler!"  Rocky's shout came from the hall, and Tyler pulled up his
gun, breathing hard.  He turned to see Rocky running down the hall towards
the conference room.  "Manny's out.  Let's go!"  He waved his arm in a
hurry up gesture, and Tyler bent to catch Morgan under the arm and pulled
him to his feet.

	Tyler held up his hand, halting Morgan behind him, and looked out
into the hallway.  It was clear, and he took Morgan's arm and propelled him
across towards Rocky.  A shot went off, catching Tyler in the middle of the
hall, and he shoved Larsen into Rocky's arms.  He spun towards the sound
and fired, missing, and felt another bullet hit him, grazing his left hip.
He cried out and fell against the wall.  The man that had appeared at the
end of the hall began to run towards him, and Tyler shot him on the chest.

	Rocky grabbed Tyler and pulled him into the side hall.  Carlos ran
up and took Larsen out the front door.  A hail of gunfire erupted, and
Tyler and Rocky were cut off.  Rocky motioned Carlos to get in the truck
and leave, then grabbed Tyler and headed for the garage.

	One man was waiting in the garage for anyone that tried to escape.
He fired as Rocky opened the door, hitting the wall next to the light
switch.  Tyler dived inside the garage and rolled behind a car, watching as
Rocky crouched and moved towards the man with the gun.

	Tyler hadn't been seen, he was sure, and he moved as quietly as he
could towards the garage doors.  He looked back, and saw Rocky pointing.
Above his head were the controls for the overhead doors.  He nodded,
reaching up to push the button.

	The door began to rumble up, and their nemesis spun, distracted.
Rocky fired, and the man fell to the ground.  "Get in the car!"  He shouted
to Tyler, pulling open the driver's door and getting in.  The keys were in
it, and as soon as Tyler closed the door, they shot out of the garage and
into the sun.  Three men tried to cut them off, but the fast little Lincoln
Mark VIII flew past them and onto the driveway.

	Two hours later, after giving the police their statements, Tyler
was lying on his stomach on a gurney in a walled off room in the emergency
room.  Rocky sat in a chair by the door reading a very old time magazine.

	"Aaaaaaooow!"  Tyler roared as the doctor pulled yet another pellet
out of his right shoulder.  "Jesus Christ!"

	"Sorry."  The young intern smiled somewhat sadistically.  "They
really are deep."

	"You didn't scream like that when they sewed up your ass."  Rocky
smirked, setting his magazine down.

	"They deadened my ass."  Tyler mumbled.  He now had to scars on his
left hip.  One from a knife, and one from a gun.  He still couldn't figure
out what everyone had against his ass.  The doctor dug for the last shard
of marble, touching a nerve, and Tyler screamed again.

	"Believe it or not, I did deaden your shoulder, but I think I did
the wrong one."  The doctor said straight faced, and then held up his
hands.  "I'm kidding."

	"Fucking hilarious."  Tyler laid his head down, drifting, and never
realized that he had gone out like a light.