Shadow Warrior: Destiny of a Mutant (22 page)

Phenix City, Alabama

1943 A.D.

Columbus, Georgia was not known for its night life, so the men decided to be a little more adventurous and head north to Phenix City, which was only a mile or two from Columbus across the state line in Alabama, and was known for its bars, prostitutes, gambling and night life.

Dressed in civilian attire Hauser and his men entered a large bar known as
“Sassy Sadie’s,”
which had a strip show that started every hour. They heard there was a brothel next door but decided they would steer clear of that. Hauser ordered a round of Budweisers on draft for the group.

The bar was a converted warehouse and could comfortably house three hundred people. A large stage for the strip show took up a large portion of the floor space in the center of the bar. When the strippers weren’t performing, the jukebox was playing so people could dance if they chose. A Benny Goodman song was playing at the moment, but no one was dancing.

Stale cigarette and cigar smoke hung like fog clouds in the air, making it hard to breathe at times. Most of Hauser’s men weren’t smokers, and the smoke was burning their eyes, but none of them complained. They were just happy to have a break from the training and the war.

They had been in the place for about an hour, sipping on their beers and exchanging war stories and telling jokes. Several of the local women had joined them at their table and were laughing at their attempts to impress them with their war stories. A few minutes later a group of more than a dozen local rednecks walked into the bar. From the looks of them, they were already drunk and looking for trouble.

Hauser noticed them first and nodded towards them.

“Let’s keep an eye on them, boys. They look like trouble,” Hauser said.

He got nods all around the table. The women at the table looked at the group nervously but said nothing. They continued with their conversations, trying to be heard above the raucous din.

As Hauser watched the group, he saw them pinching the waitresses on the ass, knocking over the drinks of other bar patrons, bumping into other people hoping to start a fight, and just making a general nuisance of themselves. Hauser thought it odd that no one challenged them.

Finally, one of the larger rednecks pinched a young, pretty waitress on the ass who had just delivered a round of beers to the table where Hauser and his men were sitting, and she turned around and slapped him. He called her a bitch and raised his arm to strike her. Without thinking, Hauser got up and grabbed his arm.

“That’s no way to treat a lady there, buddy,” said Hauser.

The redneck turned and looked at Hauser with daggers in his eyes.

“What the fuck you think yore doin’ there, boy? I’m just tryin’ to teach this bitch here some fuckin’ manners.” Hauser smelled the fetid smell of the redneck’s breath. He then eyed the women at their table and yelled at them. “Sally! Doris! And the rest of you whores, get yore asses up and get the fuck outta here!”

At the redneck’s words, the females at the table all got up and left as quickly as they could. The other bar patrons had lowered their voices and craned their necks to hear and see what was going on.

“Not looking for any trouble there, chief. Just don’t like seeing a lady getting hit. Why don’t we all just sit down and have a beer, huh?”

“I got me uh better idea there, boy. Why don’t ya just go fuck yoreself!” said the redneck as he spun and hit Hauser in the jaw. Hauser landed on the table where he and his men were sitting and knocked over their beers.

At seeing Hauser get knocked down, the rest of his men stood up to challenge the redneck. However, most of the rest of the bar got up to show support for the redneck. Hauser then got up off of the table. The punch had only been a glancing blow as he had seen it coming, and it had not done any real damage.

“Look guys. Let’s just get up and leave. We can’t afford any trouble here,” he said to his team. Hauser then turned to the redneck and said. “Look, pal. We’re just gonna be leavin’ now. We’re not looking for any trouble.”

As Hauser started to walk past him, the redneck shoved Hauser back, pulled out a long bladed Bowie knife and said, “Well, it looks like trouble done found ya, boy. Ya see my daddy owns this here joint, along with just about everything else in this town. We don’t take too kindly to a bunch of assholes comin’ in here tryin’ to stir shit up, an‘ tryin’ to fuck our women. I think you boys need to be taught a little lesson.”

Just then, the mob surged forward and grabbed Hauser and his men. They fought back valiantly, but there were too many of them. At least two or three people were holding each of them. Some of them had knives and a few had pistols tucked in their waistbands under their shirts, which they showed Hauser’s men to make them stop fighting.

Two other rednecks had grabbed Hauser and were holding him by the arms when the redneck with the knife, whose name was Jimmy Ray Davis, Jr., said, “I’m gonna start by cuttin’ ya from head to toe there, pretty boy. Then we’re gonna have ourselves a little lynchin’ party.”

Some of the women started yelling at Davis to stop because the men were soldiers and had just come in for some drinks.

“Soldiers, huh? Well, the United States Fuckin’ Army told me I weren’t good enough fer ‘em! I guess you boys think yore pretty fuckin’ tough, huh?”

Davis then raised the knife so Hauser could see it and then stepped towards him with it. As Davis lunged at Hauser, Davis felt someone grab the hand that held the knife with a vise-like grip and turn him around. He came face-to-face with Will, who was dressed in civilian clothes as well. Will then took the knife from Davis‘ hand but still held onto his wrist with a grip of steel, causing Davis to drop to his knees.

“Captain Hauser, I thought I told you not to get in any trouble tonight,” said Will nonchalantly.

“Sorry, sir. These gentlemen had other ideas.”

Davis, who was still on his knees in pain finally said, “Who the fuck are ya, ya sonofabitch?!”

Will gave him a hard stare and said, “Someone that doesn’t like you and your girlfriends very much. Now, I would strongly
suggest
that you tell your friends to release my men before I break your arm into a hundred pieces.” To make his point, Will squeezed a little harder.

Davis screamed, “Let ‘em go! Let ‘em go, dammit!”

Upon hearing Davis’ agonized scream, the other rednecks released Hauser and his men, who quickly made their way to the door.

Will then released Davis, who fell to the floor in tears.

“Captain, take your men and return to base immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Hauser.

Will then turned, threw the knife he had taken from Davis, and buried it to its hilt in a solid wooden support column in the center of the floor. They all exited the bar and started walking towards their cars when Davis and the rest of the rednecks came outside to finish what they had started. About a dozen of the rednecks surrounded Will, who appeared as calm as if he were reading a good book on the beach.

“Gentlemen, I strongly advise you to go back inside and finish your drinks. Now!” Will warned the advancing group.

Hauser and his men stopped in their tracks and started to go and help Will. Without looking over his shoulder, he said, “Back to base, gentlemen.”

To the crowd that had surrounded Will, Hauser said, “Boys, if I were you I wouldn’t fuck with him. Besides, there are only twelve of you - you might want to go get some more help.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” said someone in the crowd to Hauser.

“Well, I just hope you guys have a good hospital nearby. You’re gonna need it,” Hauser retorted.

“The only one who’s gonna need a hospital is this motherfucker right here,” replied Davis, who had been given another knife by one of his buddies after Davis couldn’t pull the other one out of the wooden column that Will had buried it in. Davis brandished it towards Will, who only looked annoyed and rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly.

Davis then moved towards Will with a forward thrusting motion. Will countered it by stepping to the side and grabbing Davis’ wrist, twisted it to the outside, and threw him ten or more feet to the left. The sound of Davis’ wrist and arm bones snapping was audible enough to be heard over the noisy crowd.

Davis screamed as he felt his wrist and arm break. At the same time, another large redneck then grabbed Will from behind while another charged him from in front. As the one in front came close enough, Will raised himself effortlessly off the ground, enveloped the neck of the man in front of him with both of his feet, and then snapped his body sideways, taking both of the men down with him. He disengaged from them and immediately returned to his feet.

As Will got back up, two more rednecks advanced towards him. Will leapt into the air and performed a flawless double front snap kick to the chins of the two men, which broke their jaws and knocked both of them out instantly.

More of the rednecks charged Will, each hoping to get a piece of the big man, but none were able to lay a finger on him as he punched, blocked, parried, and threw a variety of side, back, and hook kicks to the throng of angry men who were trying their best to hurt him. Finally, with fear in their heart, the rest of the mob ran off or went back inside of the bar, leaving their wounded companions unconscious or writhing in pain on the ground.

As the last ones left, Hauser couldn’t resist calling out to the rapidly fleeing group, “I told you not to fuck with him.”

“Captain, I thought I told you and your men to report back to base.”

Hauser and his men, who had gotten out of their cars, snapped to attention.

“Sorry, sir. We didn’t want to miss the show,” he said smiling.

Will, however, was not smiling. “Return to base now, gentlemen.”

“Yes, sir,” they all replied and returned to their cars to leave. Hauser’s smile quickly faded from his face.

Inside of their cars, Hess turned to Hauser and said, “You see that shit? The son of a bitch was just playing with those assholes.”

“I know, but you know what he said earlier…no questions. Personally, I don’t want to piss him off again, so we will not bring this up anymore. Is that understood, Lieutenant?”

“Aye, aye, sir. But, you know,” Hess said, looking around the semi-deserted street, “I wonder where his Jeep is.”

As the last of his men’s Jeeps pulled out of sight, Will stepped into the shadows of a nearby building and then took off running at hyper-speed back to the base.

***

As they lay down for the night, Serrano could not get to sleep, partly because Schultz and Becker were snoring loud enough to wake the dead, and because he was thinking about the mission. In his wildest dreams he never would have imagined being a part of something like he was a part of now.

His emotions were running the gamut from eagerness to anxiety, exhilaration to fear, and everything in between. His stomach had been in knots since his near fatal mishap on the mountain and then the whole ordeal at the bar. He was amazed that Becker and Schultz had not had a problem falling asleep after what had happened over the last few days. He just hoped that he was up for whatever lay ahead of them over the next few days. He knew that no matter what happened, it would definitely be interesting. As he lay down and tried to sleep, his thoughts then drifted to his parents and how much he missed them.

Serrano had been born in Spain to a Spanish-American father and a German mother. His parents had been visiting his paternal grandparents in Madrid when his mother went into labor a few weeks prematurely, and she had to be rushed to a local hospital. After a short convalescence, Serrano and his parents returned to America. As Serrano grew, his father insisted that the boy learn to speak the Castilian Spanish of his ancestors, as well as English, and his mother insisted that he learn to speak German as well. They both had their way, and Serrano excelled at all of them.

His father owned a Spanish restaurant on Chicago‘s south side, where Serrano grew up. His mother was the bookkeeper for the family business. The neighborhood he grew up in was a mix of races and cultures, some of whom did not get along very well with the others. This led to Serrano being thrown into many street fights just to prove himself tough enough to walk the streets of his barrio. He learned to use his hands and feet very well.

When Serrano was fourteen his mother became pregnant with a second child, but there were complications and she died during childbirth. His father was grief stricken and inconsolable over their deaths. Several days later, his father was killed in a car accident after he ran a red light during a thunderstorm, and was broadsided by a semi-truck. He died instantly.

Because he was a minor and had no immediate family in the United States, the State of Illinois made Serrano a ward of the State. The State officials tried to make contact with his paternal and maternal grandparents to see if they wanted to raise the child. However, they learned that his paternal grandparents had died of influenza years earlier, and his maternal grandparents had died years before the child was born. He remained a ward of the State until he was eighteen and old enough to take care of himself, as no one wanted to adopt a kid that was almost grown.

As soon as he was old enough, he joined the Army and gravitated towards the Airborne Rangers.