By no means was Anatoly a fighter. He wasn't what you'd call muscular nor did he have much strength. Except when Svetlana was threatened, he could do anything, be anything. And right now, he was the protector, the hero, just like in the stories he told his daughters. He had no concern about his own well-being, only Svetlana's. When the guy came at him, he held his ground. He took a punch to his jaw, but he kept his feet, then lashed out, jamming the two-by-four into the guy's stomach, causing him to double over. Anatoly then gave him a knee to the face when he was doubled over, sending him to the ground in a heap.
With one guy down, Anatoly turned his attention to the next in line. Or well, he would've had the man not been behind him and hit him across the back of his shoulders. With a grunt, he staggered forward and turned around only to be greeted by a punch to his face, this time to the mouth. His lip got cut on his teeth and started to bleed. But he wasn't about to go down. Even with the fact he wasn't a fighter, he was operating on adrenaline and not willing to go down without putting up a good fight for Svetlana. So he lashed out with a punch of his own, landing it in the guy's jaw. But he didn't stop there, he swung the board and hit the guy in the side of the head, catching him in the temple. The board snapped in two and the man sunk to the ground, soundly knocked out with some blood trickling out of a cut to his temple.
Anatoly was almost in a frenzy, clutching the remaining half of the broken two-by-four. He turned around and set his sights on the guy that still held Svetlana. He glared at him. "Get away from her. Now!" He commanded, somehow managing to speak in English even though he was enraged.