Two, actually—the first being that he was a man who knew how to fight.  The second was purely emotional.  Joe Rickards had lost everything in his world.  Everything of any meaning.  Which left a man with deep internal rage…and absolutely nothing to lose.

Badawi attacked first through a desire for revenge, lunging in a single movement of raw power and speed.

Yet Rickards had maintained enough distance, beyond a single step, requiring an extra stride and slightly more time.  This allowed Rickards to move at nearly the same time, a smooth step out and around Badawi’s advancing frame. Rickards wrapped his right arm around the man’s neck like a clothesline, momentarily lifting him from his feet then suddenly down onto his back with a cracking thud.

Never fight from within a circle.

It was the first tenet in any multiple attack scenario, highlighting the ridiculousness of action movies.  Instead, Joe had to find an exit.

The next man’s attack was just as fast, rushing and swinging, but he was too wide and his blow glanced off Rickards’ left jaw as the man stumbled forward, receiving two successive hits to the side of the head.  The man grasped futilely for the American as he fell, causing the next two to navigate around him.

Smoothly, Rickards retreated, forcing them to compete for a straighter angle.  The first earned a three-punch combination followed by two punches over the top into the next man’s face.

Behind Rickards, Badawi was back on his feet and moving quickly, advancing on Rickards as he backed up, attempting to funnel his attackers.

He landed two more strikes before he took another impact, and then another, sending him reeling backward trying to catch his footing as one man threw his entire body at Joe, grasping around Rickards’ arms and taking them both to the ground rolling.

Rickards’ fingers found the man’s eyes and caused the man to scream as he scrambled back to his feet just in time to be hit again over the back by something hard and metal.  With barely enough time to spot the object as it made another swing high and overhead.

In a split second, Rickards stepped in and closed the gap against his attacker’s body and grasped the man’s swinging arm, working an elbow free and smashing it into his assaulter’s chin.

A powerful strike sent Rickards stumbling forward, dropping to one knee before pushing back up to his feet and turning to find the rest of the men advancing.

Secretly, he gripped the weapon in his right hand and readied himself, realizing he couldn’t see through one eye—not for lack of function, but because one side of his face was covered in blood.

With a quick swipe to his eyes, he blinked through the streaming blood and lowered his head.

Before another could attack, a powerful gunshot erupted through the night air, causing the men to stop and turn.