Hammond came after me with Jenkins' Knife. I parried the first blow remarking on the fact that the knife came from a set of Samson and Smith stainless steel stilettos. As I kicked out toward his tibia and fibia (approximately two centimetres below his patella) I mused on my time at Oxford, working with Hong Seng Fung Poo the world-renowned Fu-King brilliant master of the devilish arts,
My kick missed, dammit, and Hammond (with dark, almost Satanic eyes, but quite nice hair, actually (even though I'm not gay) came forward again in a way quite like an SAS-trained man might come at a former Jesuit monk with a PhD in archeology...
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