<strong>Susan Cochrane<br/>At the Illegal Pitfight<br/>With Cut men and trainers.</strong><br/><br/>"Thank you Urbano.  Damian, thank you too."  Susan didn't drain it in one gulp, but it was a fight.<br/><br/>"Urbano,"  She hesitated, but Urbano knew the score he had seen the blow.  "He, he's not gonna be the same.  Even in a hospital, full physical therapy, he'd have a hell of a time coming back from that.  He'll never fight again.  He'll be lucky to, shit, you saw it."  The tough old bird's assurance of help just made her feel guilty, he meant every word, she knew it.<br/><br/>She noticed the bodyguard was smiling at her.  Well, word of the sort of thing she had just pulled off always got around.  She found herself cheering up quite a bit.  She felt her face heat, and raised her glass to the woman with a smile of her own.  Oh yes, her gaydar was certainly getting pingbacks.<br/><br/>And another fight was announced.  She blinked in surprise, thought she had missed it, but then she grimaced.  John at work, holding the action long enough to keep the crowd on edge wondering if the fighter would live or die.  She glanced at her watch.  It hadn't taken that long to save him at all.  Just like  in a firefight, time could go nuts.<br/><br/>"Your girl, Damian."  Rather wearily, she pulled her carryall closer with her feet.<em> Please God, not another one. </em>She examined the fighters with a bit more than professional interest.  Neither could deliver the sheer force of a big male fighter, but that didn't mean they couldn't do damage.