Disclosing the Secret

by Vincent Amato

  Jake waited for the opportunity.

  Then it happened.

  As his opponent lunged forward with a blisteringly fast swing, Jake moved on instinct, barely aware of his own actions as he stepped to position himself for a counterstrike.

  Having put all his weight into the mighty swing, his adversary inadvertently exposed his neck and side as his body stretched out from the inertia. Jake was ready for such an opening. With measured determination, and timed to the millisecond, Jake struck at his opponent’s neck with all hell’s fury.

  Stunned by the impact, his opponent was infuriated, knowing it was his own error that allowed the vulnerability. Not wanting to allow a lower rank to get away with the brilliantly executed maneuver, his answer was relentless, fighting back with ferocious intensity. Jake continued to block again and again, counterstriking when another vulnerability presented itself.

  *

  From the other end of the hall Sensei was monitoring the time. The three-minute round was over.

  He commanded the students to stop. “Yame!”

  All students immediately stopped in their tracks except for one pair that continued sparring.

  *

  Incredulous, the sensei noticed that Jake’s opponent was oblivious to the world around him, continuing to advance on Jake despite the others having stopped.

  Countering strike after strike, Jake maintained his defense, continuing to block and deflect, again waiting for his opponent to make another error.

  Repeating his command, the instructor strained to be heard over the clashing of wooden swords. “YAME!”

  No reaction.

  The surrounding students watched on in surprised silence, slowly moving to surround the ongoing duel.

  Unimpressed by his student’s defiance, the kendo instructor approached the duelling pair as the thrashing of swords continued.

  Lost in his determination, Jake’s opponent pressed on with increasing intensity until Jake executed a maneuver completely unorthodox in kendo.

  He readied himself for the next blow, drawing in a deep breath as he willed his adrenalin to course through him.

  When it happened, the series of movements was kinetic artistry.

  His aggressor lunged with an overhead strike. Jake, however, seemed to be a split second in front of his aggressor. Instead of blocking, Jake took a grip of the attacker’s wrist. Feeling adrenalin super-charge his strength, and in a motion that was as swift as it was powerful, Jake swept his opponent’s feet from under him with his front leg while using the forward inertia of his attacker’s own body weight to simultaneously flip him over his shoulder.

  The motion was utterly unexpected; the aggressor was an arched blur as he was thrown into the air before being dragged back down to earth and slammed into the floor.

  By the time Sensei had reached the pair, Jake had his opponent’s chest clamped down under his right foot. His shinai was aimed at his aggressor’s throat as he stood firm, despite now being short of breath.

  “YAME!” Their instructor’s final command carried all the power of a charging bull.

  Realizing that the rest of the dojo had since finished sparring, Jake released his opponent. With beads of sweat streaking down his face, the fallen student quickly stood to face his victor, his expression filled with a shamed surprise. The two bowed to each other then ran back to their respective places in the line. The surrounding students followed, finding their places in the original formation that ran the length of the hall.

  Sensei stepped to Jake’s opponent, his eyes angry. “Yame…mean…STOP!”

  He turned to slowly walk through the middle of the two rows, hands again held behind his back. “Seiza.”

  The students reacted as one, all instantaneously assuming the traditional kneeling position in their respective rows, sitting on their heels.

  The sensei’s face was deep in thought for a long moment.

  Finally he spoke. “There is a lesson to be learned here…remove your head gear.”

  All complied.

  Jake’s opponent was the first to unfasten his helmet. Being of Asian descent, his proud composure was suggestive of his experience and higher ranking within the class, and yet he looked toward the floor, his eyes showing his shame for not obeying the sensei. He knew better than to let his anger consume him.

  Jake removed his head gear, still panting heavily. Although still one of the more novice students, he had fought to defend himself with proficiency against a superior aggressor. He raised his eyes to his opponent, sensing that his aggressor had been momentarily driven by fury which Jake had eventually used to his advantage.

  Jake felt the weight of another pair of eyes on him. Slowly glancing across the students removing their amour, he found his friend Mark beaming. Flustered, with beads of sweat dripping, his bulging eyes displayed shock and surprise.

  Jake watched Mark silently mouth the words, “Ohh…my…God.”

  Next to Mark sat Chris, also with sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Jake watched a quiet smile cross Chris’s lips that turned to a grin. A half smirk crept across Jake’s own face.

  Two places down the line from Chris sat Paul. With scruffy hair moist with perspiration, his eyes said, “I can’t believe you did that!”

  Movement in Jake’s periphery caught his attention. Across from Paul, leaning forward was TJ, the largest of his friends. His body armor straps strained across his bulky muscular frame. Smiling through gritted teeth, TJ shot out a short jab in the air as if to say, ‘Give it to him!’ He then quickly retreated back to his seated position away from the eyes of their instructor.

  The sensei continued walking between the seated students as they removed their protective gear and wiped their faces. “When you are consumed with anger, your aggression clouds your judgement.”

  He gestured toward Jake, “Jake saw this. He could also see that his opponent was overcommitting his strength in his swings.”

  Sensei nodded to himself. “We all know who is the better fighter by rank…so how did Jake overcome a superior aggressor?”

  He paused, as if to punctuate his next point. “He used his aggressor against himself.”

  “Fighting is an act of faith in one’s self, not just a trick of technique,” he added as he passed each student, meeting eyes with each in turn. “Jake’s move may have come from judo…or akido…no matter. What matters is that he used what he could…it may have been unorthodox…but he succeeded!”

  Reaching the end of the two seated rows he turned to look back at all his student warriors. His voice was commanding, its deep tone rich with insight. “The lesson here is this: When you can’t fight fire with fire, USE THE FIRE AGAINST ITSELF!”

  CHAPTER 17

  “He was so full of himself!” Jackie declared.

  Natasha and Jackie sat in the living room of Natasha’s suburban home gossiping. Chilled-out club mixes played in the background, and scattered around them were handwritten notes, half-empty coffee cups, chocolate wrappers and a laptop that had gone into sleep mode.

  The girls met that afternoon to plan their upcoming workload. Having created a small events company together, they met weekly to track progress and map out the projects which should be pitched to their interested client groups. Despite their diligence and commitment to their work, Natasha was curious to know as much as possible about the handsome guy that kept giving Jackie attention during the previous night’s networking event which they both attended. She especially wanted to know who he was.

  Jackie looked unimpressed. “Just because he’s the doorman at that nightclub, he thought he was a big shot.”

  Jacqueline Reade, sometimes called Jackie or Jack by her friends, was Natasha’s closest friend. Slightly taller than Natasha, she was stretched out on the couch, her feet dangling off the edge of its arm rest.

  Natasha sat on the single seater next to the couch. “But wasn’t he mingling with the guests as if he was part of the event? Isn’t he just a bouncer there?”
>
  “That’s right, and he thought that was supposed to impress me.” Jackie couldn’t stop smiling. “And then he used the ‘I also used to play football’ line on me.”

  The two girls burst out into a fit of hysterical laughter.

  “Really?” Natasha gasped in amusement. “I’m telling you, there must be some correlation between big muscles and low IQs. I’m sure there’s been a study on it.”

  “Well, if we’re going back to Capitalism next week, he might be working.”

  “What was his name?”

  “You know, I was so unimpressed by his inability to hold a conversation, I didn’t even take notice.”

  The two girls laughed in agreement as the doorbell rang.

  “That would be Jake,” Natasha speculated. “He said he would come over after training then we’d do something for dinner.”

  Frowning down at her watch, Jackie’s face turned grim. “Shit! I’ve got to go. I told Tom I’d meet with him for one drink.”

  “Tom?”

  Jackie pouted lusciously. “You remember Tom; we met him last week at the club.”

  Now walking toward the front door, Natasha smiled inwardly, shaking her head. “I can’t keep up with you!”

  Leaving the stylishly furnished living room, she passed through a hallway that ended at a set of double front doors. The floorboards were polished, the hallway walls lined with framed photos of her travels and times with friends.

  Unlocking one side of the double door, her supple lips pursed as she called, “Hey there!”

  He returned a smile and moved in close to give her a hug. The particular perfume she wore always smelt sweet to Jake.

  “Hmmm…you’ve got your ‘smell’ on,” Jake said softly.

  Every person had their own distinctive fragrance; it’s something that characterized a person as much as their personality. Jake loved her favorite perfume, but not on the merit of the fragrance itself; it was because it had become Natasha’s characteristic scent. Whenever he came across someone wearing the same perfume elsewhere, he would instantly think of her.

  “Of course,” she arched a surprised eyebrow, now looking up at him.

  Jake felt the familiar sensation of being mesmerized when she stared deeply at him. On the day they met it was the one attribute Jake remembered – being immediately struck by her bright arctic blue eyes. They were still just as magnetic as the day he was first mesmerized by them three years prior.

  That day Jake was meeting with university friends for drinks at a bar they used to frequent. He had sensed the room shift to focus on two figures appearing at the entrance. Jake felt himself bristle, as if their arrival triggered a change in the properties of the air particles within the venue, their presence electrifying the air molecules. When Jake turned to see the two newcomers, Natasha’s presence seemed to eclipse every other female in the room. With an almost impossible combination of bright luminescent eyes and tempered olive skin framed by flowing dark hair, her warm gaze was as haunting as it was breathtaking.

  “Come in.” Natasha DeMorea was now holding his hand, dragging him inside as he clutched his helmet under an arm. “Jack is still over, but we’re finishing up. She may need a lift into town. I had intended to drop her off before you got here, but time slipped away from us and I need to finish a couple of things before tonight. Would you mind?”

  “Hey there! How are you?” Jackie greeted Jake as he was led into the living room.

  “Hi. A little tired and sore.” Jake strained to smile.

  “Why? Did you jog here?” Jackie grinned.

  “No, I came straight from training,” he said, sensing Jackie’s attempt at drawing attention to his scruffy appearance. He found a comfortable armchair and sat, assuming a relaxed posture.

  Whenever they all went out for drinks, which was often, Jake never tired of being quietly amused by men attempting to engage Jackie in conversation. Ambitious guys would trip over their own words, or offer a verbal recital of their resume in an attempt to impress. More often than not she would barely acknowledge their existence.

  There was no question that she was a formidably attractive female. That was until, Jake thought, she opened her mouth to speak. Jake always felt that her appearance and social status were too closely linked to her sense of self-worth.

  That was the reason Jake felt drawn to Natasha when he saw them both for the first time. With Jackie everything was all about her. Natasha could have just as equally been mistaken for a runway model but she was the type of girl who didn’t hold herself on such a high pedestal. Jackie on the other hand was stunning, knew it, and was well on her way to mastering the fine art of manipulating men to get whatever she wanted.

  A 21st century man-eater in the making, Jake thought.

  Natasha returned to her seat. “Okay, so where were we?”

  Jackie turned back to Natasha. “The guy from the nightclub.”

  “Oh yeah, the intellectual giant!” Natasha laughed. “He was cute, but I think he wore his IQ on his ID tag. What was his number?”

  “Thirty-six!” Jackie burst out.

  The two girls broke into another fit of laughter. Jake sat unamused with a polite but confused smile.

  Jackie turned to Jake. “We’re talking about one of the guys who works security at that new club that opened downtown.”

  Jake’s eyes lit up. “The one with the special entrance for bikes…you can ride straight in and park inside. Isn’t it called Capitalism?”

  “That’s the one,” Jackie confirmed. “One of the security grunts that works there was also working at the function we were at last night and seemed very friendly.”

  Jake rolled his eyes at Natasha. “I’m not surprised.”

  Jackie shot Jake a sarcastic smirk. “Anyway, you know what they say, men are from Mars, and women are from…”

  “That’s right,” Jake interjected, “women ARE from Venus. On Venus the atmosphere is toxic! The clouds rain sulphuric acid, the pressure at ground level is 90 times that of earth’s so you’d be crushed in an instant. And the surface temperature is over 860 degrees Fahrenheit. It is literally the closet place in our known solar system to hell. So when you say ‘women are from Venus,’ you really don’t know how right you are!”

  Natasha threw a couch pillow straight at Jake’s head, narrowly missing as Jake ducked to avoid it.

  “Anyway,” Jackie proclaimed, changing the subject and disregarding Jake’s input, “we might be going to Capitalism next week.”

  “Might we?” Jake’s tone was as sarcastic as it was patronizing.

  Trying not to smile, Natasha shot Jake her best angry face. “Didn’t you just graciously offer to drop off Jackie in town, honey?!”

  “Okay, come on, princess,” Jake sighed, his condescending tone playful. “Grab your things; we’ll try not to mess your hair too much!”

  He handed her the helmet. She inspected it distastefully, as if being handed a soiled nappy. Looking up at Jake her unimpressed eyes read, ‘Do I have to!?’

  CHAPTER 18

  The front wheel of Jake’s Ducati momentarily lost contact with the road’s surface as the bike powered over a small crest, its engine screaming as the tachometer needle swung into the red zone. The thrill of almost being airborne sent adrenalin coursing through Jackie’s central nervous system.

  With no other cars to be seen, Jake hogged the entire width of the suburban roads through the turns. He swung out wide on approach, then kissed the inside kerb at the apex of the turns through the bends. Banking from left to right as they soared around corners, Jacqueline felt like she was flying.

  She loved the contrasting tug-of-war between simultaneous thrill and terror – the lightning quick acceleration, the thundering of the engine as it peaked through gear changes, the feel of the engine’s vibration through the seat. The experience was almost arousing as she gripped onto Jake for her life.

  Jake, however, reminded himself not to push too hard with an inexperienced passenger. It would on
ly take a nervous jerk from the passenger in the wrong direction to disturb the delicate weight balance he needed to keep evenly distributed. A scared passenger leaning against the bends could cause both rider and passenger to come off.

  Satisfied he’d done enough showing off, he eased off the throttle. They continued over the next few miles in a more civilized manner, observing the posted speed limits.

  The evening air was starting to feel crisp. Without any other traffic on the road, the night seemed very still. Stars hung bright and clear in the voids between sporadically distributed clouds.

  Suburbia dropped away as they continued along the highway on approach to the city. They banked to the left as they turned through an oversized intersection then followed the road through a small series of bends. The road then straightened before gradually dropping into a steep decline to cut through a small valley. At the bottom of the hill lay another intersection. Beyond that, the road gradually ascended to the top of the next hill.

  Now riding downhill, Jake geared down as they approached the intersection below. If it had been daytime, Jake thought, they would have been treated to a scenic view of hills either side of the valley as they descended; in front of them the city skyscrapers would be peeking over horizon beyond.

  It was at that moment that they both saw it. Something in the sky above them.

  Jake instinctively kicked the brakes, locking the rear wheel. Skidding in a straight line, he brought them to a controlled sliding stop.

  It only lasted for half a second, but what they saw drew both their attention.

  A definitive source of brilliant light silently lit up a small patch of cloud from within, accompanied by a narrow beam of light that shot straight down below. Although the cloud diffused the light, its location was indisputable. The source was not above the clouds but within it, as if a flare had been lit inside the cloud. The narrow beam of light shot down in a distinct straight vertical beam, as if emanating from a huge powerful torch in the sky.