Drake was released from jail after his bout of drunkenness, paid his fine and left straight for the hotel where Acton was staying. He entered the hotel in a foul mood and went to his room hoping to find Acton there. Instead of Acton he found a woman. He thought that his luck was about to change.
“You know who I am, of course?” asked the woman.
Drake studied her and knew who she was immediately, the head guardian. With the body of a gymnast and long brown hair, she was very attractive. “Yes of course I know you Miss Hmong. What a pleasant surprise. “replied Drake. Drake extended his hand towards her slowly. Gwen Hmong smiled and walked a few steps towards him and suddenly let the back of her right hand fly, striking Drake on the left side of his face. He did not have the time to react that another backhand caught him on the right side this time. Gwen was not smiling anymore and neither was he.
“How dare you get drunk and thrown in the slammer.” She continued to berate him. “You are lower than low, John Drake. Your wife has been notified of this, and you will have to answer to her as well.”
Drake was astonished at the fury that had been unleashed. He had heard rumors of the temper that the head guardian sometimes exhibited but had never experienced it himself. It was said that the she was tougher on the women under her orders than the men. He stepped back slightly, touched his nose and saw that he was bleeding. He look dismayed and unsure at what he should do. His anger was mounting but he knew that he had to appear contrite. “I am sorry, really truly sorry for what happened at the bar and my being put in jail. It was all a big mistake. I was going out of the bar when I accidentally collided with a table and everything went into the customers lap.”
“And you expect me to believe that crap that you are serving me? Well I’m not buying.” At those words she unleashed another volley of her right hand to his right temple followed by a kick to his stomach. Finally as he lay doubling over on the floor she put over her right hand a glove that was coated with metal studs. She put her left hand on his head, grabbed the hair, and punched him in the face repeatedly rendering him unconscious. He lay there like a sack of potatoes, with a bloody face and in a pool of blood. She thought that the message that she was delivering was very clear. But to make it clearer she wrote him a note, saying that he ought to think first and act afterwards. She then enjoined him to contact his wife for further instructions. She then exited the room and as she was about to leave she turned back towards him and smiled, happy at the work that she had accomplished. She knew that he would be more careful now and that fear had been hopefully instilled in him. He would not get drunk anymore she was sure of that.