by Dan Lee
For a moment Matt was too angry to speak. He felt a muscle in his jaw twitching. But he was determined not to rise to the bait. He’d been bullied once by Adam – he wasn’t going to let Adam get the advantage over him ever again.
‘See you at the tournament, Adam,’ Matt said pleasantly, as he picked up his coat.
‘Hey, come back here,’ said Adam. ‘I haven’t finished!’
‘Oh yes, you have,’ said Matt as he kept walking.
‘You handled that well,’ Olivier said to him as they climbed the steps of the team coach.
‘Thanks.’
‘Will your mom really have to pay a fine?’ asked Shawn.
‘That’s not going to happen!’ said Matt. ‘And do you know why?’
‘Yeah,’ said Catarina. ‘Because we’re gonna catch the Scorpion, right?’
‘Right,’ said Matt. ‘There’s no way he attacks my mum and gets away with it. And there’s no way he’s going to get the better of the Tangshan Tigers!’
As the coach pulled away, Matt gazed out of the back window at the London streets and squares and alleys. Somewhere out there, perhaps not too far away, was the Scorpion. And sooner or later, the Tangshan Tigers would find him…
It was breakfast time in the hotel early the following morning. Matt had been tempted by the aroma of bacon and eggs, but resisted. Instead he had a roll and butter, orange juice, and a banana and kiwi fruit. Plenty of carbohydrates and vitamins – that was what Chang always recommended in the run-up to a tournament. Except that he didn’t call them that; he called them fruits of the earth and fruits of the trees.
Most of the team had followed Matt’s example – except for Carl, who’d ordered a full English breakfast.
‘I wonder what Chang’s got lined up for us today?’ said Olivier.
‘I hope we can see some of the sights of London!’ said Lola, as she poured herself a glass of apple juice.
‘But don’t we need to train?’ said Wolfgang, buttering some toast.
‘And don’t we need to get on with finding the Scorpion?’ whispered Shawn to the rest of the Tangshan Tigers.
‘All wishes will be satisfied,’ said Chang, who had silently materialized by their table. Matt wondered if their teacher had heard what Matt had said the night before, but if he had he gave no sign.
‘Kensington International Academy will provide us with our toughest match yet. Training is essential. But we have no training facilities in this hotel, and Kensington facilities not made available to us until tomorrow. Therefore, today, London itself will be our training ground.’
‘How do you mean, Sifu?’ asked Matt.
‘You will find out,’ said Chang. ‘Report to team bus in hotel car park in half an hour.’
As the team finished their breakfast, Matt and the rest of the Tangshan Tigers gathered in a huddle by the door.
‘Training first. Then we find out who this Scorpion is. Agreed?’ said Matt.
He held out his fist. Shawn, Olivier and Catarina all brought their own fists down on top of his.
‘Agreed!’
The team jumped off the bus at Tower Hill. It was a warm sunny day. The sunshine illuminated the pale grey stone of the Tower of London, and the passing cars and bikes sparkled in the light. A little further off, Tower Bridge rose into the blue sky above the River Thames.
‘Hey, that’s one cool castle!’ said Catarina, pointing at the Tower of London. ‘How old is it?’
‘Oh, about nine hundred years,’ said Matt. It was strange that he should feel proud of the Tower – after all, he had had nothing to do with building it – but it was part of his home town.
‘Gather round,’ said Chang Sifu. The team congregated on a patch of emerald green lawn. ‘Today we concentrate on extending Chi Sao training.’
‘You mean sparring?’ said Carl, brightening up. ‘Like we did last time, with our arms touching?’
‘Not sparring today. Instead, we have exercise to improve physical sensitivity. All you need to do is walk side by side with partner, arms touching at all times –’
‘But what’s the point of that?’ demanded Carl. ‘We might as well stroll around eating ice creams – improve our physical sensitivity to chocolate and vanilla –’
‘Training is to improve awareness of another body and its movements – and hence awareness of possible opponent. You are unlikely to be fighting ice cream in tournament.’
There was a burst of laughter from the squad. Matt enjoyed the calm easy way Chang put Carl in his place.
Chang finished explaining the task as he led the team towards Tower Bridge, past hordes of tourists armed with camcorders. ‘You will walk length of bridge, up and down, in pairs. Arms touching. You will be joined by imaginary elastic cord at waist. Let us see, you are eleven, so we need one group of three. Lola, Wolfgang and Olivier, yes.’
With deft fingers he mimed attaching an invisible cord that linked Lola’s waist to Wolfgang’s, and Wolfgang’s to Olivier’s. ‘You see, cord is short, if stretched it will break. So you must maintain contact at all times, or cord will break! But you will be walking through crowds, you will have to make sudden changes of pace or direction. Are there any questions?’
Jahmal put up his hand. ‘Won’t we look a bit silly, sir?’
‘Too right we will,’ muttered Carl.
‘That is of no importance,’ said Chang smoothly. ‘Martial artist must put ego to one side. If you feel embarrassed, then embarrassment must be conquered. Now, please form into these pairs.’ As Chang spoke, he attached an imaginary cord joining each pair: ‘Matt and Andrei, Paolo and Abdul, Jahmal and Shawn, and Carl and Catarina.’
‘Oh great,’ said Carl sarcastically.
‘Yes, it is great,’ said Catarina. ‘For you, not for me!’
Matt remembered how distrustful he used to feel about Andrei, who was an unpredictable character. He had once attempted to knock out a whole auditorium full of people with sleeping gas. But under Chang’s influence, Andrei seemed to have settled down.
They stood side by side on the walkway of the bridge, as taxis and buses rumbled past on the road beside them. Both rolled up their sleeves. They touched arms. Behind and in front of them, the other pairs were doing the same thing, drawing curious glances from passers-by. A party of Japanese schoolgirls giggled, their hands covering their mouths. Andrei nodded at Matt, and they began walking.
It took a special kind of concentration, Matt found. He felt Andrei’s arm against his as they moved along. He could keep pace with Andrei’s movements as long as he didn’t think about them. He had to trust his body to respond, not his mind.
Andrei accelerated to get past a slow-walking dad holding hands with a pair of toddlers. Simultaneously, Matt quickened his step to keep pace.
Matt had to move abruptly to the right to avoid a party of loud-voiced Italian teenagers who were coming towards them, taking up most of the pavement. Andrei veered with him, his arm never leaving Matt’s, as if they were both following the same track.
A boy cycled towards them, merrily ringing his bell. He went straight for the middle of them and for a second it looked as if they’d have to pull apart, but at the last moment both instinctively swerved in the same direction – to the left – and contact was unbroken.
It worked, Matt realized. He could feel Andrei’s movements – he didn’t need to second-guess them.
They passed Carl and Catarina. Carl wasn’t talking now; he looked to be concentrating as he tried to second-guess Catarina’s rapid, unpredictable movements. Not for the first time, Matt thought, Carl was finding that Chang’s training exercises were not as easy as they seemed.
Then Matt’s attention was caught by a sudden commotion on the River Thames below. A speedboat was roaring along at breakneck speed, its prow lifted clear of the water. It was a beautiful craft, blue and silver, gleaming in the sunshine, and it was weaving in and out of larger boats, often with centimetres to spare, making smaller craft pitch and toss as it passed. Matt
could just make out the driver – a man dressed in black, wearing a baseball cap, hunched over the wheel.
Intrigued, Matt forgot what he was doing and moved over to the side of the bridge to see better. His movement was so abrupt that he broke contact with Andrei completely.
‘Hey!’ said Andrei.
‘Oh, sorry! I was just –’
As Matt watched, the speedboat disappeared under the bridge, then reappeared on the other side, churning up a creamy wake behind it as it raced towards Greenwich.
‘Important not to let mind wander, Matt,’ said Chang’s quiet voice. He had appeared on the walkway beside them. ‘If you try to do too many things at once, you will do nothing well.’
Matt turned back from the bridge. It looked like he was still letting distractions get to him after all.
‘Perhaps you’ll do better next time,’ scoffed Carl. ‘If you work, like, a million years.’ Matt glanced at the other Tangshan Tigers. Catarina rolled her eyes and Olivier shrugged. Shawn came up beside Carl.
‘Yes, he might even become as average as you, Carl,’ he said, grinning. Then he broke into a run across the bridge with Carl chasing after him.
Later, they walked back past the Tower of London to where the team bus was waiting for them. It was time to go to the Kensington International Academy. Matt fell into step with Chang Sifu. He had enjoyed the training and felt that he was getting better at the Chi Sao technique.
‘How will Chi Sao help in a combat situation, Sifu?’
‘Chi Sao will aid you in anticipating opponents’ movements,’ said Chang. ‘Feeling their intentions before they act.’
‘But when we’re actually in the tournament, our opponent isn’t going to cooperate; they’re not going to be maintaining contact at all times –’
‘Not knowingly – but it is certain that Kensington team will try to fight at close quarters. They will force physical contact upon you. I know this because I know their coach – Kawada-san. A well-respected, highly honourable Japanese master of ju-jitsu. Close-quarters fighting is his style. I know: I have faced him in international competition twice.’
They were walking past the gate to the Tower. Big black ravens strutted about on the lawn. Two Yeomen Warders in red uniforms stood on either side of the gate. Matt noticed that one of them caught Chang’s eye and gave a respectful nod, which Chang returned. Perhaps there was something in Chang’s bearing that automatically drew admiration, thought Matt.
‘Did you beat Kawada-san?’ asked Matt.
‘He was a tough opponent,’ said Chang.
‘On one occasion I beat him, yes. On the other occasion he beat me.’
Carl had come up to join them. ‘But can’t we just stand off, pick them off when they try to come in?’ he asked. ‘I’m a karateka, and Matt does tae kwon-do – we’re trained to fight at long range.’
Chang Sifu inclined his head. ‘Normally this would be wise tactic. But Kawada-san will be prepared. His team will be instructed to get in close. They are home team and will seek to dominate. I do not want to fight defensively – I want to match them at own game.’
‘Right,’ said Carl thoughtfully. ‘OK.’
A moment later, after Chang had walked on ahead, Carl said: ‘That’s what I like to hear – fighting talk! That’s something I can really get behind.’
‘Me too,’ said Matt. He wondered if it was possibly the first time he’d ever agreed with Carl. And who knew? This new training might help Matt and the rest of the Tigers if they ever came up against the Scorpion. Correction, thought Matt. When we come up against the Scorpion.
Chapter 5
STUNG!
‘Wow!’ said Shawn as the team bus pulled up on the gravel drive the next morning. ‘It looks really old – like a stately home!’
The Kensington International Academy was very different from the Beijing International Academy. It was a massive redbrick building with steps ascending to a grand porch supported by Greek columns. It stood in its own wooded grounds.
‘Yeah, it’s quite a place, isn’t it?’ said Matt. Even having grown up surrounded by historic buildings, he found this place impressive.
The team piled off the bus and followed Master Chang up the broad marble steps. At the top they were greeted by two men: Mr Mulbarton, the Headmaster, and Kawada-san. Mr Mulbarton was a tall man with a slight stoop, grey hair and a red bow tie. Kawada-san was shorter but very compact and well built – he looked strong and resilient, as though he was made of toughened rubber. He was wearing a dark suit and had a small black beard.
Kawada-san bowed to Chang, who returned the bow. Matt noticed that they looked at each other with mutual respect – two old rivals meeting again after many years.
Mr Mulbarton shook hands with Chang and said: ‘Welcome. And may the best team win.’
‘I am sure it will be a fine contest,’ said Kawada-san. ‘Any team coached by Master Chang will be a formidable force.’
‘I am sure, likewise, any team coached by Kawada-san will be of the very highest quality,’ said Chang with equal politeness.
‘Our team is using the dojo for practice at this moment,’ said Kawada-san. ‘I will be coaching them there for the rest of the morning. But you are welcome to use the facilities after lunch. Until then, do treat the place as your own. All the facilities are at your disposal. There is a gym, a swimming pool – as well as a cafeteria, a recreation room, a library, and of course the rooms you’ve been allocated. Some of my students will be happy to show you around.’
Three boys showed up, wearing the smart green jackets of the Kensington Academy uniform. Their teacher nodded at them once, then walked away. Matt recognized one of the boys at once – Philip Stanton, a boy he’d known at primary school.
‘Hey, Philip!’
‘Great to see you, Matt!’
‘These are my friends – Catarina, Shawn, Olivier, meet Phil.’
‘Hi there. Well, where do you want to go?’
‘The library,’ said Matt immediately. He saw the other Tangshan Tigers nod in agreement – they knew what he had in mind.
Carl turned round in disbelief. ‘The library? What do you want to go there for, you boffin? Why not the gym, or –’
‘I like libraries,’ said Matt. ‘Good places for finding things out.’
‘Same old Matt,’ Philip laughed, clapping him on the back. ‘You love your books. Used to love reading adventure stories, didn’t you? Come on, I’ll show you the way.’
Matt shared a secret glance with the other Tangshan Tigers. Philip had no idea that Matt didn’t just read adventure stories these days – he had the adventures himself!
Most of the squad either went to the gym or the recreation room – the other two Kensington boys showed them the way. Before Chang moved away he paused and looked at the Tangshan Tigers.
‘Do not spend too long in library,’ he said. ‘Learning is good. But so too is action.’
Was he talking about the tournament – or did he have some idea of their plans to deal with the Scorpion? With Chang, there was no way of knowing.
Chang turned and headed towards the staffroom with Kawada-san, with Mr Figgis trailing along behind. As they left, Matt heard the two martial arts teachers reminiscing about a tournament they had both attended in Thailand.
Philip took the Tangshan Tigers up to the library, which was on the second floor, up a broad curving staircase with gold-painted banisters.
‘What’s the plan, then, guys?’ whispered Catarina. ‘Gonna do something clever on a computer, Shawn?’
‘No need to be too clever – should be pretty straightforward,’ said Shawn.
Matt chatted with Philip about the tournament. Philip didn’t do martial arts, but was naturally rooting for his school. Except in the case of Adam Bates.
‘I wish his opponent could take him down a peg or two. But it’s not likely to happen. He really is good. He’s never lost a fight. But the whole school would thank you if you could beat him.’
&nb
sp; ‘He’s not too popular then?’ said Matt.
‘Nobody likes him,’ said Philip. ‘Well, maybe his mum does, but that would be about it.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ murmured Olivier.
They reached the library. It was an ultramodern building with walls of tinted glass and an open space in the centre. You could look up and see galleries of bookshelves ascending above you. It was nearly empty – most of the Kensington pupils were in lessons, Matt guessed. But there were a few older students reading on the higher levels, and a librarian behind a desk who looked up when they came in. She had a long face and looked at them over her glasses as if daring them to make a noise.
‘What did you want to do?’ asked Philip quietly.
‘We need a computer,’ said Matt.
‘Here, you can use any one,’ said Philip. There were banks of computers on desks all around. ‘You’ll need a username and password – you can use mine.’
‘No need,’ said Shawn briefly. He had already sat down at a terminal and his fingers were flying over the keyboard. ‘These are easy to get into – just change the settings for the domain, then any username will do and you can create a new password.’
The screen lit up and the desktop appeared. ‘See?’ grinned Shawn.
‘Wow!’ said Philip. ‘You look like you know what you’re doing! I’ll leave you to it then.’
‘Thanks,’ said Matt. ‘Catch you later, Phil.’
When Phil had gone, Catarina said: ‘OK, so we gonna find out everything we can about this Scorpion dude, yes? You gonna do an Internet search, Shawn?’
‘If I just key in “Scorpion” we’ll get hundreds of hits and most of it will be irrelevant,’ said Shawn. ‘I have some software for a more refined search, if I just download it.’ As he spoke, he was moving the mouse around and clicking busily. Soon the words Download Complete appeared on the screen. ‘Now, if I enter “Scorpion”, “diamonds”, “theft” – and some parameters for dates, say the last six months – we’ll get a much better picture. Only relevant stuff, and nothing duplicated.’