Fight 1 of 3.

Chapter I The Eagle and the Bear

The silence over the remote, ancient forest was broken by the distant sound of two aircraft, one approaching from the east, the other from the west. The sound of their propellers grew louder as they neared.

Suddenly, a figure jumped from the opened hatch of the aircraft with American Army markings, followed immediately by a figure leaping from the other aircraft, its sides adorned with Russian Army markings. Parachutes blossomed above both figures, and each guided his chute down to small clearings in the thick woods, landing within a few hundred yards of the other.

The American rose to his feet and began unbuckling the chute. The 20-year-old stood 6'1, weighing in at 220 pounds of muscle. He unbuckled his helmet and dropped it to the ground, replacing it with a beret he pulled from the back pocket of his camoflage pants, his sleeveless vest stretched tight over his bulging chest muscles. He turned and began walking in the direction of where his enemy had landed.

The Russian unzipped his jump suit, revealing camoflage pants and a bare torso rippled with washboard stomach muscles. The 21-year-old stood 5'9, weighing 210 pounds. He stretched his arms above his head and interlocked his fingers, then arched his back forward jutting out his hardened chest, producing snaps and pops along his spine. The young soldier twisted his torso to the right, then left, finishing with a quick jerk of his head to either side producing a similar cracking. His stood motionless for a moment, staring in the direction of his enemy, then strode forward.

The mission was simple: four special forces soldiers from four armies, each condemned to death for killing a fellow soldier during fights that took place in barracks, in bars or in the field, bare fists their only lethal weapons. Four of the toughest, best trained soldier-inmates were chosen. None had shown regret for his crime. To escape a guaranteed death, each young warrior was offered the chance to fight for his life. Each would be dropped in a remote area and meet his enemy at an agreed-to location. The fighters would test each other during an initial designated trial of stamina, followed by hand-to-hand combat to the death. Of the four, only two would be left standing. Of the two, only one would emerge to claim his throne as champion warrior.

To prevent escape, a monitoring device was implanted in the body of each soldier. If two beating hearts were detected one hour after the fighters were dropped off at the site, an explosive charge would detonate. The soldiers knew the precautions weren't needed - each was a trained predator conditioned for the fight and the kill.

From either side of the clearing, the muscled young fighters emerged and stopped. Both instinctively checked out the other, first sizing up each other's brawn, then, as their eyes locked, sizing up each other's will, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation and finding none. The Russian smirked and nodded as the American stood stony-faced.

The two slowly closed the distance between them, virtual mirror images of each other with camoflage pants, blond buzz cuts and taped fists. They stopped within three feet of each other, eyes locked. The American slowly unzipped his vest and dropped it to the ground, revealing equally rippled stomach muscles. The bodies of both fighters stiffened imperceptibly as they prepared for the agreed-to test of stamina, two muscled stallions preparing for combat..

The American nodded. The Russian grinned and stood motionless. Seconds passed, then in a flash, the young Russian's fist flew back and instantly forward, slamming into the tensed abs of the American. The fist indented the flesh and bounced off to the left, producing a faint grunt from the American. The Russian smiled broadly, his arms dropping to his sides and his six-pack tensing in anticipation of his enemy's attack.

The American's right fist tenses and shoots forward and up, slamming into the Russian's stomach below the belly button, the fist moving upward into the abs. The Russian soldier is silent, but his abs tighten at the blow, causing his upper body to jerk slightly.

Instantly, the Russian's right knee shoots upward, crashing into the American's only partly tensed abs, producing a surprised grunt of pain. The young fighter responds instantly, sending his own knee into the side of the Russian's rippled stomach which again tenses at the blow. The Russian, still grinning, now lowers to a squatting position and looks up at his enemy. A quick twist of his muscled torso and the young fighter sends his left elbow crashing deep into the center of the American's stomach, producing only an involuntary snort of air. The Russian rises to his feet as the American instantly slams his knee into the lower part of his enemy's stomach, below his belly button but above his cock. It's now the Russian's turn to grunt in surprise and pain. A shadow of a smile crosses the American's face as a flash of red crosses the Russian's cheeks as he frowns in anger.

The Russian steps back two feet and with a grunt of effort, brings his right foot back then forward, kicking the young American solidly in his reddening gut.

The American coughs as air is forced from his lungs and he stumbles back two feet. The grin returns to the Russian's face as the glowering American slowly lowers to a crouching position, a wince of pain crossing his handsome features as his throbbing abs bend with the effort. Fixing his eyes on his enemy's reddening abs, the American now twists to the side, sending his right elbow towards the Russian's gut. The blow visibly bounces off the Russian's tightened abs. The Russian snorts in disgust, lowering to a crouch as the American stands erect with a hint of uncertainty in his movement.

The Russian looks up and appears to be readying his right elbow, but instantly tenses bulging calf muscles and launches himself forward, head down. The top of his head slams deep into the area below the American's tightened abs, below the belly button.

With a pained bark, the American crashes to his back, the Russian's face momentarily pressed against his cock hidden below his camoflage pants. With an angry grunt and a thrust of his pelvis, the Russian's head is pushed up and back, revealing a maniacal grin. The two young fighters rise and face each other.

In a flash, the American grabs the Russian's bare shoulders and sends his right knee slamming into his enemy's gut. The young soldier yelps in surprise and pain. As the American begins loosening his grip, the Russian snaps his fists on the American's shoulders and instantly drives his knee deep into the hurting and unprepared abs of his enemy, causing an explosion of pain.

The muscled young American crashes to his knees gripping his damaged gut, wincing with every pained cough. The Russian smiles and places his hands on his hips as he looks down upon his enemy. The American looks up in a grimace of hatred and slowly begins to rise up, pushing off the ground with tensed biceps. Halfway to standing, however, the young fighter launches himself forward, the top of his head smashing deep into the unprepared Russian's gut.

The Russian cries out as his limp form is sent crashing backwards. It's his turn to crouch and double up as he covers his aching abs. The American smiles and stands fully erect as he looks down at his foe.

With a low growl, the Russian slowly looks up, eyes locking with those of the American. With an angry battle howl, the muscled Russian leaps to his feet, rears back his right leg and sends a soccer kick deep into the American's gut, sending the young fighter crashing to his knees doubled over in excruciating pain, sweat breaking out on his forehead and chest.

The young Russian moved steadily forward, coming to within inches of the enemy now at his feet, his jaw set, his face emotionless. Without looking up, the downed American unsteadily rose to a crouching position. Slowly, his taped fists moved uncertainly up the Russian's muscled pecs, settling on the Russian's shoulders. The American began raising himself up, wincing with pain. As his icy blue eyes locked inches from those of the Russian, the American sent his right knee up into his enemy's abs.

The muscled Russian stood still as stone, his face a rigid mask. The American hesitated a moment, then uncertainly drew back to a standing position.

The Russian moved forward, his taped fists slowly clamping hard onto the American's soldiers. The two gladiators locked eyes. Slowly, the young Russian's knee lightly touched the soft area below the American's belly button. The American quickly tightened his reddened and aching abs, a snort of pain escaping his flared nostrils at the effort. The Russian then slowly drew back his knee. Calf muscles tensed and with a grunt of effort, the powerful young fighter sent his knee deep withing the lower abdominal cavity of his enemy.

A pained explosion of air escaped the injured American's lip as intense pain played across his features. He collapsed forward, the hardened chests of the two young fighters crashing together, the American's chin crashing onto the Russian's shoulder.

The Russian's taped fists snapped around his enemy's rippled torso, holding his body to him. He then placed on opened hand on the American's reddened and quivering abs and gave a violent push forward, sending the young fighter crashing to his back which arched up in pain as his brutalized abs convulsively tensed and untensed.

The Russian gladiator now slowly approached the downed form of his enemy. Watching the young American writhe, the Russian lightly placed his right foot atop the injured fighter's stomach, producing a yelp of fear and pain. His eyes locked with that of the American, as he clasped his fists and slowly raised them over his head in victory.

A growl of hate escaped the American soldier's lips as the Russian smirked before he slowly turned and walked a short distance away. He instantly dropped to the ground and began rapid push- ups with one hand in preparation for the upcoming fight to the death. Slowly, still glaring at his enemy, the American began a rapid series of pushups.

The two muscled warriors each went through a warmup routine of push-ups, sit- ups, stretching, shadow boxing and kickboxing. The two finished their preparation and turned to face each other across the small clearing. Simultaneously, both young males reached into pockets of their camoflage pants and pulled out gleaming brass knuckles, slipping them onto their fingers which were exposed above their taped fists. Both muscled young males clenched and unclenched their fists as they gazed upon the glistening, deadly metal now encasing their knuckles. Both looked up at the other with a smirk as biceps and pectoral muscles flexed with each clinch. The two warriors stiffened and froze in place, eyes locked. Deep in each soldier's throat began a low growl that quickly grew in intensity to a full battle scream. As their husky battle howls reached a crescendo, the two young fighters leapt forward in full run towards each other.

The muscled bodies slammed together as the screaming fighters locked claw- like fingers, the brass knuckles colliding with the sound of metal on metal. Biceps and deltoid muscles flexed and strained as each male attempted to force the other to his knees with brute strength. Each solider grunted in effort through clenched teeth as muscled arms were forced skyward. The two stumbled slightly, then secured their footing by spreading out their muscled legs. The fighters began shaking from the effort as a glistening sheen of sweat began to glisten over their naked torsos.

With a pained grunt, the American leapt upwards, driving his right knee into the Russian's abs. The knee bounced off the hardened abs with a fleshy thud. The Russian smirked and shook his head, then, with a loud snort, spit a thick wad into the American's face. A lock of shock crossed the muscled soldier's face, then rage as he bellowed in anger, his arms snapping around his enemy's back, breaking his death grip with the Russian.

The American crushed the Russian to him, their hardened pectoral muscles slapping together. As the Russian squirmed to break free, the American lifted his enemy off the ground and stumbled forward, sending his full weight into the Russian as he slammed him backwards into a tree. The Russian soldier grunted in pain at the impact as the American released his grip, dropping him unsteadily to his feet.

The two enemies glared at each other for a fraction of a second, then the Russian pulled back a muscled arm, but the American was faster, driving his brass-covered knuckles deep into the stunned Russian's abs. The Russian let out a pained yelp and instinctively covered his hurting gut as the American grabbed the waistband of his camoflage pants with his left hand, savagely yanking the Russian towards him. As the green-and-brown pants ripped apart, the young American sent his right fist smashing into the left side of the Russian's face, snapping his head to the right as the brass knuckles gouged four bloody chunks out of the young fighter's cheek.

The muscled Russian soldier cupped his bloodied face then examined the blood on his hands. The upper part of his ripped camoflage pants now folded limply down over the bottom portion, revealing a bulging jock cup that barely contained his thick, long cock. Attached to the jock strap at his hip was a sheathed combat knife.

The American again sent his rippling right arm flying towards the Russian's cheek, but the young Russian blocked the punch with his left arm as his right hand whisked the knife out of its holder and sent its jagged blade slashing across the wall of muscle that was the young American's torso.

Both fighters froze as the American looked down to see a bloody slash running from the lower right side of his stomach to just past his slashed left nipple. A thousand small rivulets of blood began quickly dripping down the young fighter's glistening chest. The American dragged his cupped left hand up the slash, gathering up a small puddle of blood in his hand. Looking up at his enemy with a mocking smirk, the soldier licked his hand and swallowed with a satisfied smack. A look of uncertainly crossed the young Russian's features as the American's smirk instantly changed into a snarl. His muscled leg snapped backward, then forward and up deep into the Russian's abs.

The soldier cried out in pain from the attack. The American again drew back his leg, but the Russian growled in outrage and sent the brass knuckles of his right hand, which still clutched the knife, into the American's gut, the knife scratching only lightly as a result of the punch. The American let out a pained yelp but instantly sent his left fist flying, the knuckled now cutting into the injured Russian's right eyelid, cheek and forehead.

Before the Russian could shake off the bloody blow, the muscular American snapped his right arm under the Russian's crotch and grabbed the Russian's sweat-soaked blond crewcut in his left fist. With muscles straining and his face flushing a deep red from the effort, the soldier lifted his squirming enemy up and over his head, slamming him down with a thundering crash onto the hardened ground. The young Russian arched his back in pain and gasped for air as the American stood over him, chest heaving for breath.

With a painful gasp, the Russian struggled slowly up to his knees, the remainder of his camoflage pants pulling off in the process. As he placed his taped fists on the ground in preparation for pushing himself up, he felt the young American's fist snap closed on his hair.

The rounded biceps on the American's left arm instantly hardened and quivered as he violently wrenched up the Russian's head and sent a low punch deep into the bloodied fighter's solar plexus and meeting no resistance.

The muscled American released his grip the Russian crashed limply to the ground in a heap. The hurting soldier clutched his aching gut and curled into a ball, his forehead on the ground. As he struggled for breath, he could hear the American's combat boots coming closer.

"GET UP!" screamed the American. The Russian tried to raise up but winced from the pain in his abs and again lowered his head. The young soldier again felt the American's fist slowly grab up his sweat-soaked hair. As the American began slowly raising up the Russian's head, the downed fighter remembered the knife his right fist still clutched.

With an angry scream, the muscled young Russian sent the combat knife slashing blindly upward, the blade slashing through the American's camoflage pants and waistband and into his right leg and lower abdominal muscles. Now the American's camoflage pants fell downwards, revealing an equally bulging sports cup. The fighter screamed out in pain and clutched his gut as small streams of blood began to trickle from the slash.

The Russian drew back the knife in preparation for a stab, but the American instantly rammed his right knee into the young Russian's mouth, knocking him onto his back and splattering blood up his face from newly-exposed tooth sockets.

Tensing stomach muscles, the young Russian rolled up and forward into a sitting position, his hate-filled blue eyes glared up at the American from a mask of blood as he spit out broken and bloody front teeth.

The Russian scrambled to his feet and slashed out with the knife, but the American deftly drew back his bloodied stomach and stepped backwards. The Russian instantly pivoted sideways to his enemy and launched a powerful sidekick that sent his combat boot deep into the American's stomach.

The American doubled over in pain coughing as the Russian walked quickly forward, slamming his knee into the American's face. The young soldier yelped in surprise and stood straight as his left nostril began trickling blood. The Russian pivoted back on his left foot preparing to launch a roundhouse kick, but the American snapped the bloodied tape of his left fist around the Russian's jock strap and with a grunting heave, yanked the muscled fighter towards him as he sent a right fist smashing into the Russian's face, the brass knuckle easily snapping the Russian's nose bone.

The Russian stumbled backwards screaming, dropping the knife and cupping his nose. In an instant, a torrent of blood cascaded through his fingers and down heaving, glistening chest. His protective cup fell away with the broken jock strap, revealing large, low-hanging testicles and his thick, 9-inch cock that slapped against his inner thigh in its semi-erect state.

The muscular American clamped his bloodied fists on the naked Russian's penis and testicles and violently swung the Russian in a semi-circle, letting go in time to send the agonized fighter slamming into a tree trunk before crashing to the ground with a latticework of bloody scratches.

The Russian let out a pained whimper, his legs moving uselessly but his upper body frozen on the ground. The young American walked forward and, bloodied chest heaving, stood over the moaning Russian. The American reached down and clamped both fists on his enemy's neck and slowly raised the injured soldier up to his waist level. In a flash, he snapped the Russian's head back then forward, smashing his face into the tree trunk and letting go, sending the bloodied fighter crashing limply to the base of the tree, his swollen and bloody face increasingly unrecognizable.

A hoarse moan escaped the Russian's lips as he slowly dragged himself away from the tree. The young American eyed his downed foe warily as he tried to catch his breath. The Russian began painfully rising to his knees, but the American reared back his foot and launched a soccer kick, the tip of his combat boot sinking deep between the young Russian's muscled ass cheeks. The Russian skidded forward on his chest. He lay there motionless, his muscled back heaving for air. From his nearly closed right eye he could make out the glistening form of combat knife. As he struggled to his knees, he discreetly covered the knife with his right fist. He slowly turned his head to locate his enemy, and found the American's bulging cup inches from his nose. The American's fist again snapped around the Russian's neck and began him up. When the two young fighters were face to face, the Russian slashed upwards with the knife, slicing into the American's upper lip and left cheek. With a scream of pain, the American stumbled back and clutched his bloody face, dropping the injured Russian limply to his knees. The Russian unsteadily drew back the knife in his right fist, but the American, still clutching his face, sent a bony knee smashing into the Russian's left eye socket.

The young Russian's muscled body crashed limply backward, sprawling him on the ground. The American stumbled unsteadily toward the Russian's side. The Russian soldier limply raised the knife up in his right fist. The American watched in silence as his chest heaved for breath. Then, with a rising battle scream, he raised his right foot high and drove his combat boot down onto the Russian's right arm, snapping the bone instantly. The Russian screamed out hoarsely, his torso rocking back and forth in agonized pain as the right arm dragged lifelessly, his bloodied fist releasing the knife.

The muscled young American looked around the blood-spattered battle ground then reached down and picked up the Russian's severed jock strap. Placing his knee on the writhing fighter's chest, the American quickly wrapped the straps around the Russian's neck a few times and the end of the straps in his left hand and the Russian's combat knife in his right hand. Standing up, the American held up the straps like a noose, the Russian scratching at the straps constricting around his neck. With his muscled arm holding the straps far above his head, the young American was able to hold the Russian up to eye level. The American looked into the bleeding, swollen mass of what had been the Russian's face. With the thumb of his right hand, the American forced open one of the Russian's swollen eyes. The Russian flinched with pain and struggled to keep the eye open.

The American slowly drew the Russian's face closer to his own until each young fighter could feel the hot breath of his enemy. The American smirked. "Dosvadanya," whispered the American, then, with a load snort, spit a bloodied wad into the injured fighter's face as he slammed the knife deep into his enemy's abdominal wall.

The Russian's back arched in pain as his eyelids shot open looking skyward, sharp, pained intakes of breath parting his lips. Still smirking, the American slowly twisted the knife, causing the Russian soldier to spasm in pain. With a final violent wrenching, the American yanked out the blood-coated combat knife and let go of his defeated enemy. The Russian dropped to his knees before the American. He made a strangled gurgle, then a froth of bloody bubbles appeared on his lips. With a final wrenching exhale of breath, the Russian fell lifelessly backwards onto the bloodied ground, his dead eyes staring up unfocused at the mortal combat's bloodied victor. The American looked down at his enemy. After a moment, he rapidly beat on his chest with bloodied fists, then turned and walked slowly away with the strength and pride of a lion.

END