Got Beef Midori vs. Talbot 3

     Midori drove her foot into Talbot’s face, her momentum augmented by the super suit.  He swayed back under the impact as Midori catapulted into the air and turned a somersault landing behind him gracefully.  Talbot kept his footing and whipped around with a savage side kick that Midori was only barely able to block.  The kick connected solidly into her crossed forearms, staggering her under the impact.  
     Midori skipped back a few short paces putting yet more distance between them.
     Talbot lunged forward, pursuing the offensive.  He drove his fist forward like a trained boxer.  Midori tried to dodge, a straight jab to her nose, but ducked right into his real attack; a left hook that came out of nowhere.  His fist buried itself into her solar plexus and drove the wind right out of her lungs as it lifted her clear off the ground.  Her suit absorbed most of the impact, but she only barely managed to stagger out of the way as the second half of the combo almost drove her nose into the back of her skull.  She backpedaled a couple more steps, bringing her back directly against the corrugated steel of another shipping container.
     “This guy’s tough,” Midori whispered into her vox unit, “You sure he has no Augments?”
     “None that I can scan,” Gene said directly into her ear, “He’s typical human.  No gene-mods, obviously not a sculpt, body mass index within norms, so I don’t think he has any heavy guage cyberware.  He’s your average human.”
     “Ok,” Talbot asked, the frustrated timbre of his voice fighting with his confusion, “Who the hell are you talking to?”
     Midori ignored his question, but kept a wary eye on her opponent, “I kicked him in the head!  More than once!  He doesn’t even seem staggered!”
     “I don’t know what to tell you, Midi.”  Midori could almost see Gene shrug his shoulders in her mind’s eye as he said it, “I guess he just a tough sonovabitch.”
     “Yeah, I noticed.”  She turned to Talbot, who was just staring slack jawed at her while she conversed with her partner over her sub-dermal vox unit, “Why’d you start running guns, Talbot?”  
     To his credit, the look of stunned disbelief was almost plausible, but Midori knew better.  She trusted her intel, and the Negishi Nippon Cartel was going to be making a drop here.  They were rumored to be dealing in directed energy weapons, and Midori couldn’t let weapons that dangerous into the country.  The Negishi Cartel had powerful connections, and deep pockets.  It seems as though Talbot was helping them distribute their goods.  ”He must be one of their contacts here in Long Beach, she thought to herself. I suppose that’s the trouble with mercenaries.  If you can buy their loyalty, so can anyone else.
     “Running guns?  Me?  What the hell are you talking about?!?” Talbot gaped at her, “I’m not a gun runner.”
     “What’s all the bloody racket all about?” a deep baritone called out from behind the shipping crate, his obvious accent almost as distinctive as his sculpted features.  He was modeled after a british bulldog, with broad shoulders and saggy jowls.  If Midori thought that Talbot was a big man, this new arrival was even bigger.  He was massive.  His biceps were as big around as her waist, and his shoulders seemed to slope directly to his ears, completely bypassing any need for a neck.  His chest was broad and barrel-shaped, and he had a GYROC rifle slung across his back.    Midori used the moment and leapt atop the shipping container as the second man drew near. “what the ‘ell’s going on over here?” he called as he watched Midori leap atop the crate.
    “She’s crazy, Pitbull!” Talbot yelled, “she thinks we’re running guns!”
    “Heh, well, I don’t suppose I can convince her I’ve got a permit for this then, eh?” Pitbull asked as he easily unshouldered the cannon that would be the envy of some small class armored transports.
     Midori hit a button on her wrist cuff and the blue glow of her suit started to fade, the light tracing a path towards her hands, gathering at her fists and around her knuckles.  Faint sparks of electricity arcing from knuckle to knuckle.
     “Midi,” Gene warned, “be careful.  The shock gloves are still experimental.”
     Midori grinned, “Looks like they’re gonna get field tested then.”
     Midori jumped into the air and let gravity take its course.  She streaked down from the shipping container like an azure bolt of lightning headed straight for Pitbull.  She drove her foot into his collarbone, or would have if she had been able to get through the slab of muscle that covered it.  She stopped, her momentum spent, and stood on Pitbull’s shoulder.  She shrugged her off dismissively, and she bounded away.  She planted her foot on the shipping container’s wall, and redirected herself back at pitbull again.  This time she drove her foot square into his snubbed nose.  
     He stepped back, more in surprise than in pain, “Oh!  That ‘urt!”
     “Yeah,” Talbot replied as he moved to surround her, “she likes to kick!”
     Midori grinned as she lunged at Pitbull again, this time with a quick jab to the breadbasket.  It was a quick hit, but the massively muscled brute cursed loudly through gritted teeth and went rigid.  The smell of ozone wafted up, and a thin curling tendril of smoke rose from his chest as he fell twitching to the floor.  The charge was spent, the circuitry a pulsing, faded blue where it was even still glowing, but it was already beginning to accumulate again in her gauntlets, the knuckles were faint, but solid blue already.
     She turned just in time to see Talbot lunge for her.  She dropped to her back and planted a foot into his stomach, sending him careening through the air.  He landed well, turning into a roll and quickly brought his feet underneath him, already steeling himself for her charge.
     Midori was already on her feet, charging after Talbot, a flurry of punches raining ineffectively against his arms as he blocked them easily.  Midori continued to wail on him as the charge in her gauntlets built.  
     Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder and the punches stopped.  She turned to see a snarling Pitbull with his arm cocked back, “That bloody fucking ‘hurt!” he snarled as he drove his fist into Midori’s temple with a savage punch.
     She fought through the exploding stars and fading consciousness as gravity momentarily relinquished its hold on her.  The last thought that raced through her mind before the inevitability of physics was; “How is he even standing?”