I wanted to get to Mr. Parks’ house to get us away from our friends and family. It was the safest place I could think of and I had more questions for him.
“Did you read the medal? Do you think you know why he gave it to you?” I asked. I put back the items in the glove compartment. I kept a sharp eye out for any clue but didn’t see anything and nothing was missing.
“Yes, I read it,” Reid said. He started the car and I got into my seat. He didn’t offer any more information, which annoyed me.
“Well?” I prodded impatiently.
“Dr. West really does care about you very much. He thinks these psychic gifts are rooted in a common ancestral line. I didn’t get all of it. It has to do with the Vikings mixing with the population of those in the British Isles. He has isolated some research that detailed the power of your minds coming from the crossing of certain ancestral lines. You are his kind. Some sort of relation.”
There had to be more to the medal. Dr. West could have told me that and it did not seem like a shared genealogy was particularly valuable information. Then I realized I had just stumbled on the answer. The medal contained valuable information Dr. West did not want me to know. Reid was concentrating on the road and not looking at me. He could drive to Mr. Parks’ house blindfolded. He was shutting me out and I was now frustrated. I didn’t wait for him as I got out of the car.
The house was on the edge of the woods and the birds were chirping loudly. The stepping stone path forced people to go slowly as they went around the house. I walked on the grass and went directly back to the training area. Mr. Parks was on a ladder, hanging a sheet up from the ceiling. For some reason, the entire training room was covered in sheets.
“Slept in today, did you, Whitney? That will not do for the Sunrise leader,” Mr. Parks admonished with a chuckle. He steadily climbed down the ladder. Everyone was annoying me this morning. I took a deep breath and assumed my respectful greeting, although my tiger claw gripped my dragon fist tightly.
“If you knew I was coming early, why did you tell me to meet you after dinner?” I gritted out with my head bowed.
“So you would get a good night’s rest. It’s easier to rest without a morning appointment.” I heard Reid take his place beside me. Mr. Parks spoke to him in Chinese. Reid laughed and spoke back. I was angry now. They both knew that was rude.
“Mr. Parks wants us to spar to work out some of your energy. He told me not to let you win.” Reid looked smug. I wanted to knock the grin right off his face. I was sick and tired of everyone discussing me over my head. “Your clothes are in the changing room. You can go first. You probably need to warm up longer than I do.”
Now I was boiling mad. I breathed in through my nose so I didn’t open my mouth and curse at him. I stormed across the room and found two sets of clothes folded on the austere bench. I could hear Reid and Mr. Parks talking in Chinese and Reid’s loud laughter. I ripped my clothes off and hurled them onto the floor. I grabbed the tight black bodysuit and pulled it on. It hugged my every curve like a glove. The hood went over my head and left only my eyes exposed. I was ready to fight.
Reid stopped talking as I walked out. I could feel the power my appearance had over him. Mr. Parks cracked a smile and spoke to Reid one last time in Chinese. I was trying to think about everything I knew about cranes and how to challenge his weakness. I would never win in strength, patience, or evasion. I had to do something unexpected. I would hit him with all I had the minute the match started. If I was to beat him, it was with strategy.
Reid walked out in drawstring pants and nothing else. I saw what Mr. Parks was doing but my anger blinded me from being distracted by Reid’s chiseled abs and muscular upper body. I focused on my target and what thought I could have in my mind to weaken him when he touched me. I thought of myself getting out of a bubble bath.
We walked to the center of the room. I refused to notice how much bigger he was as he stood across from me. I put out my fists, waiting for him to tap them and begin the match.
“You can always forfeit now,” Reid said. He gave me a taunting half smile. “Before you get hurt.”
I slammed my fists onto his, sprang backward, and then gave him a swift kick in the chest. I pushed off of him as he went backward and righted myself. Cranes never attack first but that was not the case with panthers. I set the tempo for the fight by coming right back at him. At the last second he ducked and my fist missed its placement so I grazed his bare back with my fingernails.
Soft targets like eyes, ears, and neck were off limits but I wanted him to know I was not going to baby him and would mentally knock him off balance. I had to get out of his reach since his short-range style would be to his advantage. I moved fast, but not fast enough. He grabbed my hood and pulled it back. My ponytail holder was lost in his attack. My hair fell long and loose now that it was free. I glared at him, unprepared for the appraisal of heated desire he gave me in return.
He came at me like a hurricane. I could only block his rapid-fire punches as he backed me up against a wall. I needed to get away from him before he could put me into a hold. I pulled on the sheet that hung on the wall behind me. The cloth fell and I twisted away when he was briefly distracted.
All the sheets surrounding the room came down, revealing one mirror after another. Another one of Mr. Parks’ distractions. I had seen the movie Enter the Dragon. I knew the secret was to destroy the image to break the enemy.
I focused on my chi and my extra reserve of strength in my body. I channeled its force into my leg as I kicked and broke the mirror closest to me without hesitation. I heard the crack and saw Reid in a fluid and rapid strike toward me in its reflection. It was going to connect.
I summoned my visual imagery of myself getting out of a bath dripping in bubbles. It deflected him for an instant while his mind stumbled and blocked my thought. I spun in a different direction and kicked another mirror behind me with razor sharp accuracy. It cracked loudly. My dan tian, or inner reservoirs of chi, was strong. I practiced strengthening them each day through meditation.
I landed just in time to duck one of Reid’s high kicks and I pushed his leg up forcing him into a flip. Reid had not stayed in place once since the match began. His footwork was impressive and masterful. I could feel fatigue somewhere in my mind but I would not entertain it.
Mr. Parks had one last trick up his sleeve for this match. He unexpectedly blasted “Beat It” through speakers I did not know he had in the room. Now we had to fight through sound.
It was a disruptive and unconventional piece of mayhem because I wanted to laugh. In a mirror, I saw Mr. Parks was pleased with himself and rocking back and forth on his heels to Michael Jackson. Reid was sweaty but focused. He concentrated through the music. I decided to bide my time and allow him to move toward me so I could catch my breath.
Reid must have read fatigue in my eyes since he quickly covered the distance between us and launched a high kick. I ducked and came around him like a whip. He put out his leg to try to knock me off balance me but I was agile enough to dodge it.
The music was jarring but I would not let it unnerve me. I hated loud noise. I channeled the frustration into one more attack. I felt myself loosen and relax as I formulated my idea to win. There was one massive mirror remaining and I needed to use it.
I walked toward the mirror and put both hands on my right side. As I stood in front of the mirror, I looked at Reid and winced. I pretended to have a stitch in my side and acted as if I could not catch my breath. He would expect fatigue to be the vulnerability of a panther.
By playing possum, it would allow Reid to underestimate me. I bent down and took a deep breath. I reached down and touched my toes like I was trying to stretch out the stitch. My hair pooled across the floor and acted as a curtain. I could see Reid in the reflection behind me and saw the gloat on his face. He was coming toward me to end the match. It was too late for him to shield himself by the time I sprang and twisted his arm up and behind him. He collapsed to his
knees and I let go.
The music went off. It was over. I was exhausted and empty.
Reid was on the floor. His body glistened with sweat but there was a wry smile on his face. “Mr. Parks warned me before the fight that you wouldn’t fight fair. I knew you would do that mental image if you could get away with it. Playing dead—that I was not expecting. Touché.”
“I’ll tell you what I wasn’t expecting. The music! Seriously, Mr. Parks, where did you come up with that idea?” I panted. My ears were still ringing. I braided back my hair to keep it out of my face.
“I came up with it from Reid. He trains to music always. He uses music as an emotional charge. I wanted to make concentration difficult. Fighting will not always be easy.”
“What about the mirrors?” Reid asked. “And are you going to ask Whitney to replace them all?”
“Ha! He knew they would most likely be broken. Destroy the image and break the enemy,” I said aloud. “I like good kung fu movies.”
“Very good, Whitney. What can I say? I like Bruce Lee. But it is so interesting to me you did not break them all at once. You saved one to use. That is why you are panther. Clever, resourceful, strategic. Break the ones that distracted and use the last as a weapon. True skill and understanding. How do you feel now?” Mr. Parks asked.
“Better. Tired. Hungry. I want a shower,” I said, allowing all my feelings to rise to the surface. My hypothalamus fight response had been exhausted. I could be normal again.
“Nah, I think you should wear that black suit the rest of the day. It looks really good on you,” Reid said appreciatively. His eyes looked at me like they had X-ray vision. I suddenly felt more exposed than if I was sitting there in my underwear. I stood up to get my clothes from the changing room.
“Whitney takes a shower. Reid and I make breakfast. Then we will talk,” Mr. Parks said in his succinct manner.
I came out to the table in a robe and saw the food. It made me feel ravenous. We all sat down to eat but Mr. Parks only took a sip of his tea.
“How does it feel to beat the World Martial Arts champion, Whitney?” he asked me. I almost choked the warm congee I had spooned into my mouth. “Or Reid, should I ask you how it feels to be beaten?”
Mr. Parks’ eyes danced with amusement as he watched me register what he had said. “You compete?” I asked Reid. Mr. Parks never suggested I compete and I was glad. I didn’t really enjoy sparring. I preferred to practice my exercises and to hone my skill through repetition. Sometimes I spent hours and hours drilling to escape the thoughts in my mind.
“I’ve been in competitions for over ten years. I would like to see Tomi Chiang take her on wearing that black ninja suit. Trust me, it is much easier to fight another guy,” Reid said slyly to both of us. “I thought pulling your hair free would distract you but I think it only served to doubly distract me.”
“Why did you never want me to compete if you were training both of us?” I would have never pegged Mr. Parks to be sexist. He had asked me once or twice if wanted to spar a crane he was training but it did not appeal to me.
“I would not have the world know what you can do, Whitney. A winner attracts a lot of attention. You have a distinct way of thinking that I cannot teach. For instance, how long did you know you would use that final mirror?”
“I don’t think I knew it until the end,” I said honestly.
“No, you did not implement it until the end. You knew it instantly—otherwise you would have destroyed them all like Bruce Lee did in the movie. The fact that you had this inside knowledge but still chose your own path to your greatest advantage is something I cannot teach anyone. You have an innate understanding of the Way.
“You were born a child of the Way. This is why you are now the leader of Sunrise. You see the answer and others only see the problem. You can do what no one else can.”
I looked out into the woods and listened to the birds singing. I did not want to meet Reid’s stare. “What about Blair? You have trained her as well. How does she fit into all this?” I finally asked, breaking the silence.
“My training is to give Blair structure and order. It gives her mind clarity to know what is really valuable and what is meaningless. It improves her excellent memory by giving her mind more discipline to only judge herself and not others. She is also a strategist but she had to learn how she could solve her own problems by the action she takes. It is one thing to know the Way and another to follow it.”
“And Reid?” I asked, looking at him. My eyes softened with respect and appreciation. I was regretting my swipe across his back.
“Reid is my best student,” Mr. Parks said with a nod. “Yes, he is better than you, Whitney. When he does not know, he asks to be taught. After he learns the first level, he asks for the next. He learns all I have to give. In this way, a great master will live on.”
I cast my eyes at the bowl in front of me. I did not do this. I tried first and then asked.
“It is not for your shame I am telling you. It is so you understand why I did not teach you to protect your mind from intruders the way I taught Reid. Although I will miss your insight, now it is time you learn. You will need it mastered by Tuesday. Reid will be the judge when you can stop practicing but no tricks will be allowed. You know to what I am referring, Whitney?”
My face turned red as I thought about the image I used to deflect Reid. I had not considered how much access Mr. Parks had into my mind. I knew it was extensive from his never-ending work toward enlightenment, but I had never questioned too deeply how he anticipated me so well.
“Yes, I too have third eye gifts. It is my guide for wisdom. You asked about Reid? Well, I sensed Reid was a natural crane the moment I met him as a small boy. Helga brought him to me to try and teach him discipline. He was always causing trouble and reacting without thinking. This was because he was absorbing too much information from everyone he touched. His mind is wired for a kind of telepathy and empathy and housed in the body of a great athlete. You already knew this from Dr. West, correct, Whitney?” My eyes widened in alarm as Mr. Parks revealed that information. Reid did not know how much I knew about him.
“What do you mean? How did Dr. West know that?” Reid asked me.
“He has scanners in his office. They can detect psychic abnormalities. You walked through several of them,” I answered with a sigh.
“Wait a minute. You knew that when we went there? You set me up?” Reid looked wounded and incredulous. My mind scrambled to figure out how to cover my tracks without him seeing my duplicity in my eyes. Fortunately, Mr. Parks took care of it with ease.
“No, Reid. It was coincidence. Dr. West really is Whitney’s physician. He is a neurologist and a parapsychologist. He was also the lead scientist for the CIA program, Clarion. That is how he met Whitney. Whitney’s third eye capabilities are like nothing we have ever seen before. They are the fusion of many different enlightenment aptitudes that let her know outcomes before they occur. Clarion will undoubtedly want her back. In their view, she is a most powerful weapon. They would use her mind to find not only nuclear facilities but also how to produce pure energy—a kind of energy that is generated by the sun and could dominate or obliterate the world.”
Reid reached out and touched my hand. I was not thinking of anything except of how crazy the truth sounded aloud. I was glad Mr. Parks was telling him. It sounded more believable than if I tried to explain this about myself. I hated the reminder of how different I was and that no one could understand me.
“I knew you weren’t like other girls,” Reid said with a smile. His touch made me feel grounded and calm. “But I’m glad you are who you are. It’s never a dull moment with you, and try to remember that you aren’t getting rid of me.”
He acknowledged feelings I was not allowing my mind to realize. Deep down, I felt scared and alone. As a protective measure, my brain shut off feelings I knew would only drain me. It had become a reflex for survival. Dr. West taught it to me ten years ago. I had buried my co
mplex emotions deep. I tried not to be daunted by the fact that Reid would have access to my every thought until I mastered blocking all forms of telepathic skill.
“All is forgiven? Good! Now we leave and go train.” Mr. Parks stood up. It reminded me no thoughts or emotions were ever private. We were eating breakfast at the low tea table in the dojo. What was he talking about? We were already here.
“Whitney, your father dropped off your bag last night after I called him. Do not worry.” My father? Why would Mr. Parks have called him? He was the head of the Clarion Program. Mr. Parks picked up some of the dishes from the table and moved quietly into the kitchen. I looked at Reid to see if he knew something.
“Don’t look at me. You’re the psychic. I’m only glad to know you are the most powerful weapon in the world. Before that, it stung my pride that you whooped me earlier,” Reid said with a smile.
I picked up my breakfast plates and followed Mr. Parks into the kitchen. Where were we going?
Chapter Sixteen: The Anchor
“Don’t look so surprised. It was your father’s idea,” Mr. Parks said as he handed me a large duffel bag of my clothing. “You don’t really think he is going to let Carson Noir redirect his program without doing something, do you?” Mr. Parks questioned.
It was nice to know my dad was not totally hands-off but I did not realize he would take such a lead role. A long time ago, he realized it was better for me to not know much about what he was working on and he had tried hard to keep it that way. He had been traveling extensively these past few months and I had not seen much of him. I took the bag. At least I had fresh clothes. “Who is Carson Noir?” I had not heard that name before.
“The newly appointed CIA director. Hurry up and get changed. We need to leave here.” Mr. Parks grabbed his own bag and left the room. He closed the door behind him. I put on shorts and a polo shirt and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.
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