Capítulo 34: MARTYRDOM IS FOR MISGUIDED YOUTH

Jean Pierre jumped up from his seat and sidestepped the noisy mob assaulting Ambrose Henri to disarm Darius and his group of six armed guards. After that, he could turn to rescue Ambrose Henri from the mob, maybe rush him out of the belly dancing tavern.

Darius was leading from the front with his short-curved knife, accompanied by his guards. His knife glistened in the faint light emitted from the lamps. In this violence-filled moment, seeing it was like hearing a demon screaming, "I need his blood."

Jean Pierre positioned himself ahead of Darius. Blocking his path forward. He raised his hand to motion for them to stop.

They stopped and glared at him.

"Darius, this issue is a big misunderstanding and it should not be solved with weapons. You and your men should put aside your weapons and we solve this decently, for god sake we are your guests. Is this how you treat your guests, with weapons drawn?" Jean Pierre addressed them while blocking their path forward to Ambrose.

"For your information, queen Samira is an esteemed guest of my tavern. How can I sit back seeing what your friend has done to her? He needs to pay for his crimes now." The warm smile on Darius's face was gone, filled with an evil look and he was not ready to exchange words with him.

"Get out of my way, otherwise we shall consider you also an enemy!" Darius shouted while pointing his short-curved knife at Jean Pierre.

"What do you want to do to my friend?" Jean Pierre shouted back. Deep in his heart, he knew that Darius and his men were up to no good, however, he had to hear it from them.

"What I am going to do to him with this jambiya is none of your business. If you know what is good for you, get out of my way now before I lose my temper."

"It matters not to me. Whether I punish him or both of you. Anyone in my way will be dealt with sternly." Darius added.

Hearing all these words from Darius. Jean Pierre realized that it was too late to negotiate for a peaceful resolution to this mess.

'Ambrose Henri, why could you not control yourself? Now see the type of mess you have dragged me into. Your hugged Samira alone, and am fighting these goons as if we did it together.' He lamented in his mind.

'If we walk out of here alive. I will not forgive you easily. You will have to pay a hundredfold for this stupidity. Frenchmen are smooth lovers but look at you!'

"Since you, Darius is not ready to resolve this issue peacefully for the sake of my friend. Am going to protect him from anyone who means him harm." Jean Pierre shouted back at them. Having heard their uncompromising stand.

"Hahaha, if it was not because of the gravity of his crime. I could not bother to get my hands dirty with such a drunkard European filth. Those men behind you are enough to teach him a lesson of not grabbing Arab women like your disease-ridden prostitutes." Darius said.

The men behind Darius branched out and formed a circle around Jean Pierre. In a fighting posture, their wooden clubs and the one short-curved knife which Darius called a jambiya. All poised in their hands.

The first brave guard rushed out to strike Jean Pierre down. He raised his hand with the club before bringing it bearing down on Jean Pierre with all the force in his right hand.

Jean Pierre was not waiting for the wooden club to land on him. He lifted his left leg and kicked the wrist of the hand with the club swiftly before it descended on him. The strong kick kicked the wooden club from his hand and pushed him backward slightly. Before he stabilized himself, Jean Pierre followed up with a mighty kick towards his left ribs.

POP!

They all heard the sound of the first guards' ribs breaking. The energy from the kick sent the man flying backward. He landed on his backside, disoriented from the two consecutive kicks and the mushrooming pain from his broken ribs. He could not even manage to cry. He just lay there and contorted his face in facial expressions of extreme pain.

Before Jean Paul's leg which had sent the guard flying, settled properly back on the ground. The next guard rushed from his left to strike him down and avenge what had been done to his comrade. Jean Pierre turned over quickly, he jumped up in the air and sent a flying kick towards the unprotected throat of this guard. The kick connected with his throat, and he was sent backward as quickly as he came. Crushing to the ground like his comrade before.

Seeing this, the other four standing guards wavered in rushing in to confront Jean Pierre. They realized this ordinary young man before them was no pushover. In less than a minute he had sent two of them to the floor without breaking a sweat. He fought like a seasoned apex warrior. They had not signed up for this.

Darius saw the all action unfold. This friend to the drunkard European looked like easy prey to harass but now that he saw how two of his well-trained men were defeated, he realized he had met his match. If he could beat his two men effortlessly one by one, none of them could be a match for him. The rules of the game have to change. All of them have to confront him at once so that he does not have room for maneuvering or striking back. Otherwise, even Darius himself doubted if he could defeat him single-handedly. He could see that this was a well-experienced fighter from the way he handled himself without any weapon in hand. With weapons, he could be a dangerous foe.

'What if he used our weapons against us,' this thought crossed his mind. But he had no solution for it. They were no match for him without weapons, and he was not an easy opponent to defeat despite them having weapons.

"Rafiqan, let's attack this enemy together at once. Follow my lead." Darius instructed his men on the newest tactic.

"Ok boss, we are with you all the way." Idris one of the guards considered the most senior responded on their behalf. He had been with Darius from the beginning when they left Tehran and sojourned to the third holiest place in Islam to seek their fortune.

Together, they rushed at Jean Pierre uniformly from four sides.

Darius smiled with glee. Knowing this European was finished. Confident that his guards were backing him up all the way. He stabbed his well-sharpened jambiya at the torso of the European. This time, he was not surviving them.

He could kill this one first and then finalize with the drunkard trouble-causer. It could be a lesson to all trouble-causers, to not mess around in his belly dancing tavern. Luckily, he had the authorities in his pocket and they could not prosecute him for killing infidel Europeans.

Jean Pierre was placed in a tight spot. He saw all the four guards and their boss Darius rushing towards him with the intent to kill him with extreme prejudice written in their eyes and actions. The encirclement which had some gaps when they wavered on whether to attack him or not earlier had now closed up. They were acting in one accord, it was not going to be easy to defend or strike back. For every one strike of his, four attacks could land on him.

To make matters worse. Ambrose Henri was now on the floor screaming in pain. The loud and angry mob kicked him all over. He was bent over in a fetal position, his hands covering his head from the vicious kicks. He must be seriously injured by now.

'Hope his injuries are not fatal.'

There was no time for Ambrose Henri to waste, he had to move fast. But how was he to do it when faced with four angry guards armed with thick wooden clubs and one furious boss with a jambiya thirsting for his blood?

He saw the jambiya thrust from Darius heading for his torso. If he did not defend. It was game over for him.

Jean Pierre deftly stepped aside at the last moment when the jambiya was about to connect with his stomach. He grabbed the hand of Darius holding the jambiya in his armpit and twisted the elbow with both of his hands forcefully in the opposite direction. This caused Darius to bend over to lessen the pain in his shoulder joint and elbow. Jean Pierre was standing behind him holding his hand in a tight uncompromising grip. Aiming to break or dislocate his hand from the shoulder. The short-curved knife Darius called the Jambiya had fallen from his hand to the carpeted floor when the pain became too much.

The guards were not standing idly by. They landed vicious strikes on Jean Pierre. On his back, thighs, and chest. So far, not had gone to his face or head. The pain was too much but he endured it, he had to make Darius surrender or kill him to bring the guards in line.

He yanked the hand of Darius forcefully, dislocating it from the shoulder. He pulled him up and proceeded with swinging him around in a circle like a club. Darius unconsciously kicked his guards as he flew around in a circle. To make matters worse, they could not fight against him since he was their boss.

After being airborne for a few microseconds, Darius landed on the floor with his hand still stretched behind him by Jean Pierre at 50 degrees. The pain he was experiencing was out of this world.

Jean Pierre stepped on the back of Darius's neck and screamed at him. "Tell them all to stop or you are about to die."

He saw him hesitating to give the command.

"Am going to count to three, if you have not given the order to your men to stop. You will enter Janna or Jahannam shortly.

One.

Two."

"STOP ALL OF YOU!" Darius shouted. He was not ready to be a martyr. He had so much to live for, martyrdom was for misguided youth without a life. Not him a successful businessman.

His men stopped attacking Jean Pierre. However, the mob was still assaulting Ambrose Henri.

"What about those hooligans assaulting my friend, should I CONTINUE COUNTING?" Jean Pierre commanded while forcefully yanking Darius' hand upright. Increasing his pain tenfold.

"Idris, stop those people immediately and get his friend from them." Darius gave the second order. The pain he was feeling had erased any shame or indignity of being manhandled in such a manner.

He just wanted to be set free from this pain. He could give any order if it could grant him that.