“You better believe it, sister,” he snarled.
“Well then, bring it on, tough guy,” she said, meaning to provoke him.
When the referee dropped his hand to restart the match, he charged forward as if he meant to tackle her. Like a matador, Emily side-stepped him and swept his foot as he went by, sending him sprawling face first onto the floor. He picked himself up off the floor and surged toward her again, this time trying to punch her hard in the face. Emily parried and twisted his wrist, first one way, forcing him into a deep, awkward crouch, and then the other way forcing him up and over. He tried to resist the movement she was forcing him into, but to do so was unbearably painful. Finally he felt himself leave the ground as he flipped over and out of control. He landed several feet away on his back at the edge of the ring. He lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling. Emily walked over to him, crouched down next to his head and looked him in the eyes.
“Maybe you’ve had enough,” she offered.
He looked up into her face and saw her, maybe for the first time. He understood the generosity in her words and nodded his head. He couldn’t quite believe the depth of compassion he saw in her eyes. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him and finally recognized it for what it was: shame.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I behaved badly. Forgive me, Sensei,” he asked, looking for the right word to express the respect he now felt he owed her.
“It’s okay,” she replied with a smile. “I hope you’re not hurt.” He shook his head. Emily helped him to his feet. He held his fist inside his open palm in front of him and bowed deeply to her. The audience cheered thunderously. He bowed to the referee and the judges and stepped out of the ring. The match was over. He had conceded the last point. There was nothing else for him to do.
Watching from the door, Connie found herself measuring her own behavior against that of the drill sergeant. She had behaved much worse than he had when she attacked Emily in the bathroom at the student center. She had been the recipient of Emily’s mercy that day, but perhaps not her compassion. She found herself longing to gaze once more into Emily’s eyes, to search in those depths for the redemption she hoped to deserve. The thought that those eyes might be closed to her forever this very evening terrified her. She staggered for an instant, then reached out to steady herself against the wall. She took a deep breath and looked inside herself for the resolve to make sure that didn’t happen. By the time she had regained her full composure her face was locked in steely determination and her own eyes seemed like black mirrors, as if fashioned from obsidian.
The final match was anti-climactic by contrast to the one Emily had just won. The guy with the ponytail was careful and precise, and wanted to approach the match like a chess game, as a problem of thoughtful calculation. Emily refused to allow him the time or the space to think through his strategy in that fashion. She took the first two points with quick, ferocious attacks designed to force him into desperate defensive maneuvers that left him vulnerable. She fought as she imagined her father would. In each case she had finished him within three quick moves. He tried to adjust in the next two points by being more aggressive. But his initial attacks were just too slow to catch her off guard. She was able to use each of his attacks to develop the vulnerability she needed to finish him. In the final point, he tried to use a left front kick followed by a left jab to create an opening. But Emily kicked his foot before he could fully extend it and slapped his jab back across his chest leaving him completely vulnerable. She hooked his foot with hers and pulled him down with it, finishing him with a series of light taps to the side of his head. He knew he had lost decisively. The match had not even been close. He bowed to her and said “Sensei.”
In a brief ceremony a few minutes later, the referee presented her the first place trophy. The crowd roared its approval. The rest of the black belts in the kumite competition were watching from the front row. They stood up together and bowed to her. She smiled and returned their bow. Her friends rushed onto the stage and huddled around her, hugging her and shouting congratulations. When Wayne finally found his way to her side, she gave him a knowing look. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her high above his head so the whole crowd could see her, and she them. She leaned forward and spread her arms as if she were flying, and Wayne did a complete turn. Cheering filled the room and even seemed to shake the stage. The judges and the tournament organizers pushed through the crowd to meet this impressive young woman again, and to congratulate her once more. She thanked everyone, shook what seemed like a thousand hands, smiled graciously and waved to the crowd. Eventually the swell receded and the crowd thinned out. Emily and her friends came down off the stage and made their way to the main door. Emily spied Connie at the far side of the room near another exit.
Here, guys,” she said, handing the trophy to Wayne. “I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes. I’ve gotta talk to someone.” She gave Sensei a meaningful glance and then headed across the room. He herded the rest of them out the door and toward the elevators.
“The Chinese are using a van in the parking lot. They saw your matches. I imagine they’re hoping to grab you in the middle of the night.”
“Show me,” Emily replied.
They walked out a side entrance and peered carefully around a corner where Connie pointed to the white van. “That’s where they’ll gather to plan their attack,” she said. “There’s been some activity on the roof over there. I think it’s one of their men. I don’t think they mean to shoot you. He’s probably there to cover their departure.”
“Can he see us now?”
“Not from this side of the hotel.” Connie guessed the rest of the strike team would gather at the van around midnight and try to grab Emily once the hotel quieted down, an hour or two later.
“We’re gonna have to take care of the guy on the roof before I deal with the rest of them. I’ll meet you there,” Emily said, motioning to the building where the sniper was positioned, “just after twelve.”
“Did you bring dark clothes?” For an instant it sounded like the sort of thing a mother would say to her daughter. Emily smiled at Connie and then went back in to the hotel.
When she got up to their rooms the guys were still in full celebration mode. Billy had managed to video Emily’s matches and was playing them back through the TV. They had already watched them all a couple of times. She picked up the phone and called room service. Wayne was obviously gonna be hungry again soon, and they all needed something to go with the festive mood.
“I couldn’t believe it when you kicked that guy upside the head,” Wendy gushed. “I mean, he literally flew across the ring.”
“Whoa, yes, that was amazing,” Billy agreed. “It was like you launched yourself at him. I’ve never seen you do anything like that before.”
“Yeah, I got a little carried away with that one,” Emily said, putting the phone down. “I hit him too hard. I was really kinda worried he was hurt in a serious way.”
“What did he say to you when you went over to him,” Wayne asked.
“You know, he didn’t really say anything. He just smiled up at me. I think he was a little groggy.”
“What about that jerk who hit you? What did he have to say?
“Oh,… him. Yeah, that was unfortunate.” Emily paused, rubbing her cheek, and Billy played the video of the first point.
“That was so cool when you stepped inside his last punch,” Danny said. “I mean, you just unleashed all these strikes, and there was nothing he could do. He was like helpless.”
“That was like the last thing he was expecting,” Wayne snorted.
“Yeah, and he deserved everything he got,” Wendy clamored. “I was glad you really unloaded on that guy.”
“You know, he acted like a jerk,” Emily said over her shoulder as she went into the other room to change. “But in the end, I think he wasn’t so bad. I mean, you gotta give everyone a chance.”
She put away her new kun
g fu uniform and put on black jeans, a black t-shirt and shoes, and went back out just as the room service arrived. Of course, Wayne was thrilled. Emily had read his stomach precisely. A large tray of scrambled eggs, French toast, bacon, sausage, fruit, bagels, juices, beckoned from the center of the room. Everyone crowded around and piled up plates, without asking any questions, even Wendy who seemed to be as hungry as anyone. While her friends were occupied, she drew Sensei aside and told him her plans. He was, naturally, dismayed.
“There has to be a better way, Chi-chan!”
“There isn’t.”
“We can notify the authorities. Let them handle it.”
“We don’t know which authorities to trust here, Sensei. But even if we did, that would just delay the inevitable. This is the moment to confront them,” she said decisively.
Sensei’s shoulders visibly slumped as he let out a long sigh. He knew he was not going to be able to change her mind.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Keep these guys here. Don’t let them go out. Don’t let anyone in.”
She motioned to Wendy, and led her into the other room.
“I’ve got to go take care of something in a few minutes. I don’t want the others to follow me. You’ve gotta help Sensei keep them up here. Can you do that for me?” Wendy’s face turned pale and her upper lip quivered.
“Emily, what’s going on? What are you going to do,” she asked tremulously, tears forming in her eyes. She was a little unsteady on her feet. Emily helped her sit down in an armchair. “Can’t you just stay up here with us?” She didn’t know what the danger was, but she felt it as vividly as if it were looming over them both right then. A cold, dark hand was closing around her throat.
“Wendy, you’ve gotta help me with this. Sensei can’t do it by himself. He’s gonna need your help.” Wendy sobbed as she stared at Emily. “You know me. I can take care of myself. But I can’t keep them safe at the same time. You’ve gotta do this for me.”
Wendy nodded and tried to collect herself before going back out to the other room. She went into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. Emily put on a close fitting synthetic vest and a black hoodie. She was now dressed entirely in black from head to toe. She pulled her hair back into a short ponytail and glanced over at Wendy, who gave her a shaky smile. Emily slipped out into the hall and walked quietly to the elevators.
Connie crept up to the roof of the hotel’s unfinished business suites building, expecting to have to subdue the Chinese sniper. But Emily was already there and the sniper lay in a confused heap off to one side. Connie could surmise that she had hit him on the side of the head with a fierce roundhouse kick, since she had personal experience of the efficacy of Emily’s foot. She took out some cord she had prepared for the purpose and bound his hands and feet while he was still unconscious. She hefted his rifle, examined the clip, peered through the scope and said “This’ll do nicely.” Then she settled in by the railing and rested the barrel on the pad he had prepared.
“Whatever you do, don’t shoot any of them to protect me. Just keep ‘em from going in the hotel. And absolutely don’t kill any of them, even this guy here.” Connie nodded reluctantly. It would be so much easier just to take them out one by one from here. She was trained to do just that.
She looked through the scope at the van for a moment, then panned around the parking lot. It was a good position. It commanded the entire area between the van and the hotel. She looked up to say something to Emily, something about how she shouldn’t underestimate how dangerous these guys were. But she was already gone. She quickly looked through the scope again, sweeping the area on the near side of the van until she spotted her. Dressed all in black she was hard to notice in that landscape. She was a shadow.
Connie watched as Emily walked slowly but deliberately to the van. She noticed her gait perhaps for the first time, like a tomboy’s, with a slight saunter, even a little swagger. She paused to admire the strength that seemed to emanate from Emily’s body. Then the van came into the field of view of the rifle scope and Connie felt a wave of panic wash over her. What was she going to do? Had they seen her already? Was it too late for Emily to run away? She was tempted to rake the side of the van with bullets, kill them all. Her finger throbbed on the trigger, but she remembered Emily’s words and held off. Then she was next to the van, and suddenly thumped her fist on the side panel. Connie could hear the hollow sound all the way up there.
The side door slid open and two guys tumbled out, and then two more! Before she knew it, six guys were surrounding Emily. Some of them were big, much bigger than her. Two of them wore gray suits, obviously government issue. The rest were dressed like a grunge band, apparently in an effort to blend in with the locals. But they were too old to make it work. They just looked even more dangerous. Connie watched as they looked Emily up and down. She seemed strangely calm. She looked at each one, but didn’t make any move.
The largest one, one of the suits took a quick step forward and wrapped her up in both arms from behind, lifting her feet off the ground. And she didn’t even resist! She just seemed to let him do it. Connie had his head in the crosshairs. Her finger danced on the trigger. Every fiber of her being wanted to make his head explode with the bullet. But Emily’s voice still echoed in her ears: “Don’t shoot any of them to protect me.” The words seemed to make no sense to her at that moment, but she struggled to honor them, to honor Emily.
She watched helplessly as the others closed in, one of them holding what seemed to be a syringe. Why wasn’t she resisting? She should fight back! Connie knew what Emily was capable of. Why wasn’t she doing anything?! Was she sacrificing herself just to protect her friends? Was she just gonna let them take her away? She desperately wanted to squeeze the trigger.
But then something did happen. She wasn’t quite sure what it was or how exactly it started. It looked like Emily wriggled slightly in the arms of the man holding her from behind. It seemed so harmless, so insignificant a movement. He leaned forward to adjust his grip on her. As soon as her feet touched the ground she must have gotten control of his arm somehow. He seemed to tense up as if in extreme pain, and then suddenly swung around into the man with the syringe. Connie couldn’t quite tell how it had happened. The two men lay dazed in a heap as Emily grabbed the syringe and stuck it in one of them. An instant later she seemed almost to fly through the air at two others, kicking one on the side of the head from an impossible angle as she evaded the kick of the other. She landed behind him and before he could turn to face her she had kicked out his right knee and then spun into a wheel kick to his head. What Connie saw was a black whirl, a little too fast to track from that distance.
Four men lay in a heap in the twinkling of an eye. The two others looked anxiously at each other, as if to work up their courage. One of them produced a knife. That was it! She’d seen enough. Connie placed the crosshairs on his head, and was ready to fire when she saw Emily looking directly at her in the scope. She relaxed her finger. Did Emily know what she was about to do? Had she really been looking at her? Just then the door on the far side of the van slid open and someone got out. The two men froze, apparently waiting for this last man to appear. A moment later he was in sight, waving them off. He snapped his fingers and uttered a sharp command. His men picked themselves up and limped away to a safe distance. He was somewhat older than the others, perhaps in his mid-forties. He said nothing to Emily as he looked her up and down for a long moment. She sized him up too. Connie recognized him from the incident in Taiwan. He was the one who orchestrated the ambush of Meacham’s teams there. She couldn’t help but think of him as a cold, implacable enemy. She situated his head squarely in the crosshairs of the rifle scope.
Then suddenly, he surged forward with a left front kick followed by a lightning fast series of kicks and punches. He moved too fast for Connie to keep in her sights. She couldn’t shoot him if she tried, not without endangering Emily. All she could do was watch as Emily blocked an
d parried all of his attacks, finally controlling his right wrist long enough to allow her to land a palm heel strike to his jaw just below his ear. He stepped back, clearly surprised that she had been able to hit him at all. He spun into a high wheel kick followed by a right back fist and a sneaky left hand reverse punch. But Emily leaned away from the kick and the back fist, and stepped inside his left hand to land her own reverse punch to the center of his chest. She hit him hard, harder than she had hit anyone in the entire tournament. The force of the blow drove him a few steps back. He gasped for breath as he looked at her in amazement.
He attacked one last time with much greater ferocity, a seemingly endless rain of strikes and kicks. Emily was able to defend it all, though it seemed to Connie that she was pushed nearly to the limit of her abilities. He may have been the most formidable opponent she had ever faced. But with each block, she forced him to commit his hands and feet more and more completely, until finally the two of them were locked together, standing face to face. He looked into her eyes and she into his. From the rooftop, Connie found herself straining to see whatever it was they saw. But she couldn’t do it. It was infuriating and tantalizing for her. But through it all, Emily seemed completely serene. She didn’t appear angry or even offended by this man who was attacking her in a parking lot in the middle of the night. If Connie could have inspected her face more closely, she would have said she seemed to have no mood at all as she stared at him. He recognized this too. Finally, he smiled and gently pushed her away.
Connie saw she was of no further use to Emily on the roof. She cut the cords binding the Chinese sniper, packed up his rifle and went down to the parking lot. As she walked over to the hotel entrance carrying the rifle case over her shoulder she could see that they were talking. But she couldn’t hear what they were saying. As she watched from this new vantage she could see that Emily was no longer serene.
Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen) (Emily Kane Adventures) Page 20