You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids

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Book: You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids Read Free
Author: Robert G. Barrett
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there . . . and Price Galese would watch him from the other side of the room. He liked Norton’s style — quiet, confident and for a big man he moved very lightly. On a crowded night he would weave his way gingerly through the people so they would scarcely know he was there. He was very pleased with Billy Dunne’s choice for a new doorman but one thing was on the back of his mind: I wonder if he can fight as well as Billy makes out. He didn’t have to wait that long to find out.
    The first occasion was late one relatively quiet Thursday night. Les and Billy were standing idly out the front of the club talking about nothing much in particular when the buzzer above their heads, which was installed to sound if there was any trouble inside, started up like it was going to fly off the wall.
    Norton put his hand on Billy’s shoulder, ‘Stay here mate. I’ll sort it out,’ he said. ‘If I need any help I’ll give you a yell.’ And took off up the stairs.
    Inside was complete pandemonium. A gigantic Yugoslav, well over six and a half feet tall and around 18 stone had erupted, and being egged on by a mate almost equally as big, was doing his best to wreck the place. He was about $12,000 down and about 40 bourbon and Cokes up when he started going crazy.
    He’d completely overturned the baccarat table and tried to choke the dealer. Two waitresses and another dealer who had tried to pull him off were sent sprawling over the roulette table along with half a dozen patrons, plus all the chips and the roulette wheel. He’d just put his fist through a card table, flattened two people who didn’t get out of the way quick enough and now he wanted to take on all comers, the owner in particular. There were cards, plastic chips and money everywhere, women were screaming and a lot of men were starting to look the colour of bad shit when Norton arrived at the top of the stairs like a Harrier jump jet.
    He paused for a second to survey the carnage around him. He could see that the bigger bloke doing all the damage was beingegged on by his mate so he figured he’d take him out the way first then start on his mate. He caught Galese’s eye and shot him a glance as if to say, sorry about what’s going to happen but this is what your paying me for, then moved towards the first troublemaker.
    As he got to him he bent slightly at the knees and drove his right fist up into his solar plexus smashing every bit of air out of his body in one screaming gasp. He stepped back and drove a devastating left into his face followed by a short wicked right to the temple which sent him crashing to the floor, paralysed and sobbing with pain, blood streaming down one side of his face, the white bone shining like ivory through the gaping slit that had been his eyebrow.
    The big Yugoslav who was doing all the damage turned around just in time to see his mate hit the deck and with a roar of rage he charged at Norton like a maddened bull, tackling him round the waist, his sheer weight and power forcing Les backwards, scattering the people behind him like tenpins and smashing Les up against a wall. Only that Les managed to take most of the impact on his arms and legs, it would have broken his neck.
    Bracing himself against the wall, Norton raised his right arm and despite the awkward position he was in started pounding the giant Yugoslav’s kidneys with his elbow. The big man let out a scream of pain and released his grip from around Norton’s waist. Les grabbed him by the front of his jacket, raised him up to eye level and smashed two vicious head butts into his face, the first one squashed his nose like a ripe fig with a sickening crunch that was heard all over the casino, the second one moved it about four inches across his face. Most of the women turned away in horror, the men stood there wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Nobody moved.
    The big Yugoslav started to buckle at the knees. Still holding his

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