Read Abacus for Free Online Page A

long reach out of play. As he skipped in to get closer, he was hit with a big right hand across his left temple, which sent him spinning into the ropes and onto the canvas.
    The old Police B oys Club gymnasium was spinning as he lay face up. He momentarily forgot where he was until he looked to his left and saw Hobbs’s size fourteen shoes busily jogging on the spot. Extending his gloved hand, Hobbs asked almost apologetically, “Need a hand there, boss?”
    To save face , Randall sprang to his feet. “Listen, you worry about yourself, sport,” he said, still trying to deal with the spinning room. Shaking his head and stretching his neck from side to side he did his best to refocus. A cocky Hobbs stretched his chin out a number of times to entice Randall to hit him. Randall saw this as the ultimate insult to his ability as a wave of anger overcame him. With anger came power and strength, and with a plan in mind, he held his gloves up and peered over the top to see a determined-looking Hobbs march towards him. He danced and skipped around the ring a little to entice the giant to come in for the kill.
    As Hobbs moved in close, he feigned a left jab, which drew the giant’s guard up to protect his head and left his midsection open. Seizing the opportunity, he delivered the killer blow through a punishing short right to the ribs. The crack of the blow echoed through the gym and sent the giant staggering backwards onto the floor in the corner of the ring. Holding his mid section, he lay moaning, totally finished.
    Randall bounced and skipped around the ring , pounding his gloves together as he looked down at his opponent with a look of total satisfaction. “C’mon now, up you get,” he urged. Seeing that Hobbs was no longer in the contest, he spat his mouthguard into his glove, which left a long string of saliva. Wiping the spit with his left glove, he reached out with his right to help Hobbs up.
    “Looks like you’ve had enough for one day , big fella,” he said, pulling Hobbs to his feet.
    Spitting out his mouthguard with a pained expression, Hobbs said, “You got me good. Real good.”
    “Respect goes a long way, ” Randall said patronisingly. “And remember, you are only as good as your last punch… and mine was bloody exceptional.” Hobbs raised his eyebrows in agreement. Being the quintessential sportsmen, Randall helped his injured opponent from the ring to collect his bag and then onwards to his car. Reaching the driver’s side door, a grinning Randall eased Hobbs into his seat. “Well, big guy, see you at work tomorrow, and please don’t hesitate to ring me if you need a lift, you know, with that injury and all.”
    Hobbs looked straight ahead , still looking unhappy with his defeat. “Won’t need a lift, boss, I’ll be okay,” he mumbled, gingerly pulling his seat belt on. Randall watched the car drive out of the car park and turn up the street. He knew a return bout with quite a different outcome might not be too far away.
    With music blaring, Randall drove home from the gym with a huge smile on his face. He was a little concerned about the injury Hobbs may have sustained, but on the other hand he may have passed on a valuable life lesson. Always respect your opponent.
    Over the sound of the music, he heard a vibrating sound on the console. It was a text message on his silver phone from DL. Will ring in thirty to discuss bait. “That would be bloody right,” he muttered.
    S peeding and weaving through the city traffic, he needed to make it home before the thirty-minute deadline. “Get out of my bloody way,” he yelled impatiently at a motorist in front who had apparently stopped for no reason. Randall followed up with a long blast of the loud horn from the Merc. As the car in front slowly moved on, he saw that it had stopped to allow a small dog to cross in front. The dog looked a little lost as it crossed the busy street without its master. “Sorry, mate,” he said, waving apologetically.