Amber Adams, Agent of PATRIOT

  • “You are kidding me, right?” Amber Adams, Agent of PATRIOT, said as she stood in the arena. “You expect me to fight in this?” she gestured towards the bikini she had been given before being manhandled into the room.

    “Correct!” The harsh metallic voice blasted out of the speakers. “You will fight for our entertainment…and it will be to the death!”

    “Great, just what I need on a Tuesday morning.” Amber muttered as she cast her mind back over the events of the last 24 hours. Drugged, abducted and dumped on some remote island filled with ANVIL goons all before 5 pm on a Monday was not the ideal way to start her week. “Okay, let’s get this over and done with.”


    A door at the far end of the arena opened. There was movement inside the shadows for a moment before an ANVIL goon stepped out. His body looked like it had been carved out of granite. Amber laughed as she saw he was wearing the skimpiest of swimming trunks she had ever seen. She looked up at the tinted windows that ran around the arena.

    “What? Is the plan to make me die laughing?” Amber asked. “Seriously, you are joking about this aren’t you?”

    “Two of you will fight…” the voice said. “One of you shall die.”

    “Well, seeing as you put it like that…” Amber said, ducking just in time to avoid an arcing fist from the goon. She used her momentum to roll away from him, pushing out her leg in the process. She felt her bare foot strike his knee as she rolled back into a standing position.

    “Is that the best you’ve got?” she said as the goon stumbled away. He looked at her and glared. “Oooh, scary!” Amber taunted – she got her desired response. The goon moved towards her, more cautious this time. Amber bounced slightly on her feet; she could feel the blood running through her veins as he made to punch her.

    She avoided or blocked his initial blows, parrying where possible as she analysed his movement. He appeared to be little more than a brawler as she countered with a knife hand strike across the side of his neck. He stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned by Amber’s blow. She followed up with a snap kick that landed squarely in his chest, forcing him further backwards.

    He shook his head, trying to shake away the grogginess from her first blow. He moved quickly, feigning to punch one way and then swinging his fist in the other direction, catching Amber in the stomach with a glancing blow. Despite her superior reactions the force of the blow caught her off-guard. He took the chance to slam his elbow into her back as she was temporarily bent over, knocking her to the floor.

    The goon followed up with a field goal attempt to the side of her ribs, propelling Amber several feet across the sandy surface that made up the floor of the arena. He stood back for a second, admiring his handiwork. Amber got up from the floor, wiping a trace of blood from her lips.

    “Okay big boy, playtime is over.” She rubbed her ribs as she got up – she couldn’t feel that anything was broken but then the soft tissue was bruised already so she couldn’t be sure. She pulled her long brown hair back and took several deep breaths.

    The goon moved first, advancing towards her. Again Amber found herself blocking his blows and parrying as best as she could – unfortunately his brute strength was wearing down her defences as quickly as she could muster them. She stepped back to give herself some room, spinning around in the process. Her hard heel cracked against his jaw.

    Just as Amber was preparing to follow up, the goon leapt at her, grabbing her within his powerful arms and squeezed. Amber screamed – mostly from the searing pain in her ribs where he had kicked her before but also from the pressure she felt in her back. She struggled to break free but to no avail.

    Her vision was starting to cloud over as she managed to raise both her hands up, bringing them down with as much force as she could muster on either side of the goon’s neck. The powerful knife-hand strike had the desired effect, forcing the goon to release her. Amber fell to the floor.

    The goon was stumbling about, moving away from her as his senses were disorientated by her move. Amber’s face was a grimace of pain, but she knew this was her opportunity. She began to run towards the goon, flip-flaking in a gymnastic fashion towards the lumbering figure until she propelled herself into the air.

    The goon regained his sense of balance as he saw Amber flying towards him, her legs landing on his shoulders – much like when she was a child sitting on her father’s shoulders at the fun fair. She gripped his head with her powerful thighs and twisted her hips sharply to the left. There was an audible crack as the goon’s neck broke. Amber managed to dismount before he hit the floor.

    She stood and looked up at the tinted windows.

    “Happy now?” She challenged the faceless watchers.

    “For now…” the voice replied. “Prepare for the next challenger.”

    “Great,” Amber muttered, wiping blood from her lip. “I’ve always hated Tuesdays.”

  • love it! She’s in some sort of gauntle

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