Elite (33 page)

And with that, the third round was on. Five more minutes and Daniel would be out of this hell. He would no longer be the seventh
ranked agent in the complex, and maybe not even in the top twenty, but that seemed insignificant at this stage in the game. At this point he just wanted to get out with the least amount of embarrassment possible.

He did the best he could to wash away the excess chemicals and hormones from his brain, and maintain focus on a steady flow of oxygenated blood and adrenaline to his core arm muscles as he had in the first round. Only this time he needed to be ready to fend off any quick counters from Jitters.

He looked at Jitters as he jumped all over the place like Daffy Duck, not a scratch on him except for the bruises on his arms from those three potent jabs Daniel had delivered toward the middle-end of the first round.

After a minute of the two men dancing around each other, the crowd grew restless, and Jitters had finally had enough. His primary concern was securing the win, but there was a big part of him that wanted to end the thing before the final five minutes were up.

He came in with some quick jabs, bouncing from side to side as he delivered them, both in an attempt to find an opening and also to make it difficult for Daniel to come back with a shot of his own.

Daniel waited, searching for his opening, but never finding it. Time was quickly running out, and he needed to make something happen. He needed to make his last stand, something to allow him to walk out of the ring with some form of dignity and respect, but he had to make sure not to be as sloppy with his attack as he had been in the first round.

He decided to take a risk. He lifted his arms higher, as if he were going to try and attack the five-foot-eight Jitters from above. Daniel left his body completely open, knowing it would entice Jitters into attacking.

Though he sometimes seemed it, Jitters wasn’t stupid. He knew that Daniel was setting him up, and had to be careful not to fall into a trap which could cost him the fight. But the offer was too tempting, so he decided to come in for an attack from below, hoping Daniel was expecting something different and wouldn’t be fast enough to defend it.

Jitters reached through Daniel’s arms and grabbed on to whatever he could, his left hand latching onto the back of Daniel’s head, and his right onto Daniel’s left arm. He then lunged forward with his right knee, intending to make contact with Daniel’s rib cage, setting up an onslaught much like the one he had started at the end of the first round.

Daniel had not expected Jitters to attack with his knee, but he was able to adjust quickly. Elise had repeatedly attacked Daniel with her knee during his training. He wondered now if she had known it was a favorite move of Jitters.

As Jitters’ knee flew toward his torso, Daniel quickly shifted to his right, grabbing onto Jitters’ leg and holding it tight against his side, leaving Jitters trapped.

Daniel then brought his right fist around the left side of Jitters head, contracting the muscles in his arm as much as he possibly could as it traveled toward Jitters’ head.

Jitters was able to bring his arm back in time to intercept Daniel’s right hook, but it was no match for the might of Daniel’s super-human strength as Daniel’s fist plowed right through the block and into Jitters’ left ear.

The force of the blow knocked Jitters to the ground and Daniel fell on top of him. This was it. This was his chance to take back the fight and pull off the upset.

Daniel reared back and got ready to smash his fist into Jitters’ head for one finishing blow as they lay on the mat. His neural pathways were wide open, his conscious mind synced up to the depths of his brain that no other human had access to. He sent the signals to the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest, telling them to contract beyond their natural state, and he threw his fist downward with the power of a silverback gorilla. The crowd stood and roared with a shockwave of intensity, for the first time believing that Daniel may actually prove his metal and win the battle.

But Jitters was too fast.

Before Daniel could land the punch Jitters managed to squirm free of his grasp. Daniel’s fist pounded into the mat, cracking one of the supports directly beneath the area of impact. If he had not been wearing gloves he would have certainly shattered his hand, and if Jitters face had still been in that spot, he may not have survived it.

Stunned by the ferocity of his own punch, Daniel hesitated, giving Jitters time to climb up over him and onto his back, putting him into a choke hold.

Daniel grabbed at Jitters arm as it wrapped around his neck and squeezed tight, unable to manage a firm grip.

Instead he shifted his concentration to the muscles in his legs, increasing circulation to them and contracting them as necessary to give him the strength to stand up with Jitters draped on his back, his arm still tightly wrapped around Daniel’s throat.

Daniel then turned his focus to his core, giving himself the strength to throw his upper body forward, flipping Jitters over top of him.

The crowd showed their pleasure with the impressive maneuver that was more reminiscent of professional wrestling than of cage fighting.

However the forward momentum caused Daniel to fall to his knees, and before he could progress with an attack, Jitters managed to bring himself to his feet. Even after landing flat on his back Jitters moved with impressive quickness.

Both men rose to their feet and faced each other, and the crowd cheered, appreciative of the show the two men had given them in this third and final round.

But Daniel knew that it was over. He had missed his one opportunity to finish the job and Jitters would not allow him another. The judges would certainly rule in Jitters’ favor after the way he had dominated the first two rounds.

In fact, Jitters did not even offer up another chance for Daniel to strike, spending the last minute and a half simply prancing around the ring and waiting for time to expire. Daniel made one last effort when he heard the fifteen-second warning, throwing one more wild punch, but as he had so many times before, Jitters dodged it easily, not even bothering to come back with a counter-shot this time.

Eventually the final bell went, and the two men dropped their arms to their sides in utter exhaustion. Those three rounds had served as the longest fifteen minutes in Daniel’s entire life. The two men walked toward each other and slapped palms together before heading off to their respective corners for a much needed replenishment of fluids and a damp towel.

Robby was there to greet Daniel with a hug and a pat on the back.

“You made me proud in that last round,” he told Daniel, helping him off with his gloves and handing him a water bottle and a damp towel.

As Daniel gripped the towel he noticed its dampness, but as he pressed it to his face he felt only pressure. Then he remembered that he had blocked out the pain after the beat down in the first round. He went into his brain and allowed it to interpret the nerve-signals the way
they were meant to be felt, and winched as the pain came back to him all at once.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Daniel turned to see Richfield once again standing in the center of the ring with a microphone, gesturing for Daniel to come stand next to him.
Jitters was already on the other side of Richfield.

“The winner by unanimous decision, and new number seven ranked Agent at Elite Personal Security Force – Manny ‘Jitters’
Castelloooo!”

And with that Richfield grabbed Jitters by the wrist and raised his arm into the air, signaling him as the victor. It was a surprise to no one.

Daniel offered a polite round of applause with the rest of the agents, and with that, made his exit from the arena. Robby followed him back to the ready room, while Blank stayed behind to talk things over with Richfield.

As Daniel walked toward the tunnel back to the ready room, he took a quick glance up at the rankings board. Jitters’ name was now in the number seven slot, the space next to the number eight now left blank. Daniel’s name was nowhere to be found.

He put his battered head down as he entered the tunnel.

Horchoff and Robby examined Daniel’s body as he sit on the medical exam table in the ready room.

“Well you definitely have a fractured nose,”
Horchoff told him, holding up a vanity mirror so he could see the damage firsthand.

There was a nice gash across the bridge of his nose, though not too deep, and the entire surrounding area was a deep shade of purple.

“And obviously a bruised rib,” the doctor said, pointing to the black and blue area where Jitters knee had made contact to his midsection. “As far as a concussion…”

Horchoff
shined a light into Daniel’s right eye, then his left, then held up a finger and told Daniel to follow it as he moved it back and forth across his line of vision.

“I don’t know,”
Horchoff confessed. “Maybe a minor one. I think your symptoms in the ring can probably be more attributed to a chemical reaction than concussionary symptoms.”

Horchoff
picked up his pad and began taking notes.

“Which is good, because I’m not really sure what that might do to you,” he added, glancing up at Daniel out of the corner of his eye as if he had not intended to say that last bit out loud.

The uncomfortable moment was cut short when Blank and Richfield suddenly burst into the room.

“Well you managed to last three rounds, which is more than most people thought you’d be able to do,” Richfield commented, all business as usual.

Blank stopped in the doorway and leaned up against it, apparently just there to listen.

“And you managed to save a little face with the way you were able to come at him in the third round there,” Richfield added. “But you proved that the complaints Jitters came to me with Monday morning about you being ranked so high are valid. You have more raw ability than any human on God’s green Earth, but you can’t shoot, you have no field experience or skills, and you sure as hell can’t fight.”

Dramatic pause. Daniel wasn’t concerned with the lecture, he just wanted to know what the damage was. Where was he going to be ranked after the loss?

“I’m sorry Daniel but I have to move you down to thirty-ninth,” Richfield finally broke it to him.

Daniel swallowed hard, nodded in solemn understanding, and dropped his head. It was a long fall from the top, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t understand why.

“You held your own against a guy in the top ten, but he had no idea what to expect from you,” Richfield continued. “Now everyone in the agency has seen your weaknesses. They’ll be lining up to challenge you if I don’t move you far enough down. You don’t need that kind of distraction while you’re still in training.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said instantaneously following Richfield’s explanation. It sounded as though he were shooing the boss away, but there was some genuine intent behind it.

Richfield gave a slight head bob, understanding Daniel’s frustration, and turned to walk out of the room. Blank stoop upright and took a step back out of the doorway to let Richfield pass, then took a couple steps back into the room and looked over at Daniel.

“I don’t care what anybody says Danny Boy,” he said. “I’m damn proud of you. I know you’re better than thirty-ninth, and I know you’re gonna be top dog around here very soon.”

Daniel put on a fake smile and nodded, showing appreciation that he still had the support of his biggest fan.

He let out an exalted breath and in a phony, perky tone said, “I guess it’s time to finish my training.”

Chapter 17

Daniel spent most of Sunday in his room, recovering from the fight. Most people would have needed a lot more than a day to heal, but Daniel didn’t have the luxury of delaying the rest of his training. He would be ready to go to the following morning.

The complex was more quiet than usual. After the excitement of the last two weekends, most agents who were not out on assignment were taking the opportunity to spend some time at home. Even Charlie had decided to get out of the building and look for a new place to live. For the first time Daniel was envious of the other agents’ ability to come and go as they chose. This week more than ever, he would have loved to have been able to go home to his apartment, or maybe to see his family in Indiana, but he still had four weeks of training yet to complete. With each day he was becoming more and more anxious to finish.

In the days after the fight few agents spoke to Daniel. They silently made their way past him in the locker room, glancing only long enough to recognize who he was, and then moving past as if they hadn’t noticed him.

His new ranking had been revealed to the rest of the agency just an hour after the fight was over. The truth was
, the fall from grace had not hurt nearly as much as the rest of the agency seemed to think it had. Sure, he would have preferred knocking Jitters out and maintaining his spot as one of the top ten agents, but he was still very green, and he felt no shame being near the bottom. He knew that he was still the most physically capable agent in the complex, and so did Richfield. In fact, he suspected that most of the other agents still believed as much.

All except for Jitters of course.
He had taken to gloating whenever the opportunity presented itself, though he got little response from the other agents. Daniel suspected it only served to frustrate Jitters even more that the other agents showed no more respect for him than they had before the fight. There was little glory in beating a man in his very first fight, and even less in gloating about it.

Daniel cared little about what Manny Costello had to say about the situation. His time would come, and very soon. Daniel had learned a lot in his fight with Jitters, and he would only learn more as time went on. It would not be long until he found himself unbeatable, and then maybe – just maybe – Jitters might be compelled to keep his giant trap shut.

And so Daniel continued with his training. Although inside he felt the urge to rush through it and finally be green-lighted into the field, he remained focus, taking his time with Elise more seriously than ever.

Elise seemed to respond to his of determination. She took no pity on Daniel as she could see that he took none on himself. She continued to work him hard in his combat training sessions, regardless of the pain it may have caused him.

Daniel fought through the pain, deciding to tough his way through it instead of masking it. The pain reminded him of how much better he still needed to become. Besides, Horchoff had suggested Daniel mask the pain as little as possible, as it warned him of which areas of his body he needed to favor in order for them to properly heal.

Horchoff
had also made the decision to cancel his third week of pain management training, determining that Daniel had already mastered this skill to its fullest extent. Against the doctor’s recommendation to use the extra time to recover, Daniel instead asked Elise for a second sparring session each day. To his delight, Elise was more than willing to oblige.

There was little more for her to teach Daniel in the way of technique, therefore the final week consisted almost entirely of sparring matches, with Elise finding opportunities to point out Daniel’s mistakes whenever he would make them – which was often – and instruct him on how to be more effective with his attacks.

In all of his last ten sparring sessions in those last five days, Daniel was unable to win a single fight against Elise, but he was never willing to hit her with his full potential. There were many times when he was able to make solid enough contact that he was certain would have knocked the fierce, muscular woman unconscious had he pumped up – and he suspected that she may also have believed as much. Every time he was able to make solid contact to the head of Elise, she seemed to get angry, and as if flipping a switch she would start throwing an array of complicated moves that Daniel could not dream to keep up with, each time resulting in Daniel flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

No matter how potent, his impressive spirit would never be enough to match her years of experience. Only his ability to defy the laws of human biology would enable him to take the Scandinavian Amazon down, but he felt this unnecessary.

He had nothing to prove – one of the perks of losing the fight to Jitters. He no longer felt the pressure to prove himself above the vast majority of the agency. All he needed to do now was focus on fine-tuning his skills. He had become a pseudo-master of his abilities, and he knew that they would always be there for him, but to use them now would only serve as a crutch. Jitters had proven to him that relying on his abilities alone would not be enough for him to survive at Elite. He needed the skills to match.

Their final bout on Friday afternoon was somewhat of an emotional one, though neither of them was willing to admit it. Though there had been few words spoken between the two in the past week, there had been a great deal of bonding. Daniel’s willingness to fight through the pain of his injuries and work harder than ever before gained him a lot of respect in Elise’s eyes, and Elise’s willingness to push Daniel harder than before had done a lot to help him through the frustration of being embarrassed by Jitters in the challenge ring.

Fighting relied a great deal on emotion, and they had released quite a bit on each other in the past three weeks. It was almost like sex, Daniel thought, though not as sacred in reputation.

As Daniel got one last shot in on Elise, kneeing her in the ribs, she once again switched into hurricane mode, leaving Daniel in ruins as she pinned him to the mat, claiming her victory.

She helped Daniel to his feet before sharing a long embrace. As he wrapped his arms under hers, palming her upper back and resting his chin on the back of her shoulder, he suddenly found himself fighting back tears. Though he had not been broken, the past week had been tough on Daniel, and Elise had offered him a way to vent his frustrations. Not through words, but through the art of combat.

The two finished their hug and with a simple “See you later,” and Daniel made his way back to the locker room. Richfield had told him earlier that while he would need to continue working on his hand-to-hand skills in the remaining weeks of his training, it would no longer be with Elise. She had other responsibilities to other agents, and Daniel would need to find other agents to hone his skills with. It was no longer a matter of learning, but simply a matter of practice. Daniel knew all he needed to know, he just had to work to make it second nature.

Muscle memory was something that needed to be developed – there was no commanding it through neural impulses. The point of muscle memory was that it had to be instinctual. While Daniel could program a given position into his brain, physical movements had to be learned. There were no shortcuts when it came to proper technique.

Although he may not have mastered
Krav Maga enough to take down an expert like Elise, to any schmuck out on the street he was now dangerous. She had taught him a lot, and he had come a long way in just three weeks.

Accelerated course indeed.

Handling a weapon would be similar, in that it would require practice and experience to master. He would be beginning weapons training on Monday – one of the final stages of his training. With every day he was moving closer to becoming a certified agent of Elite Personal Security Force, and with every day commissioning seemed more like an inevitability than an accomplishment.

Charlie, Shifty, and Norma had all made a point to come back to the agency on Friday night to give Daniel his first “night out” since before the fight. He had been happier than he thought he would be to see them, and after a few drinks things were beginning to seem somewhat back to normal.

Normal.
Daniel pondered the word.
This
had somehow all become normal to him. Two months ago, this place – these people – were completely foreign to him, and now this was all normal. These were his friends now, and this was his home. Well, it was his home for now. But even after he moved out it would still be his place of work – his second home, and these people would still be his friends.

His life had taken a drastic turn, and he felt no regrets.

He was under strict orders to spend the weekend resting and finishing his recovery. Though much of his body had healed itself in the last week, such as the now slightly crooked bridge of his nose, there were still many areas that were still tender. He did as he was told and only engaged in a very lite workout on Saturday afternoon. He spent the rest of his weekend watching movies and reading comic books in his room.

Shifty had an impressive collection of comics, which he was storing in his bunk because his wife didn’t want them in the house anymore, and he let Daniel borrow them. Daniel felt slightly embarrassed reading comic books in the lounge, but to his surprise people either didn’t care or showed a genuine interest in what he was reading. It turned out a lot of real-life superheroes also found an interest in their fictional counterparts.

Daniel woke up Monday morning feeling well rested and excited to start the final three weeks of his training. He had experienced the same excitement at the beginning of each of his three-week segments, as each one offered a new endeavor, and a new skill for him to learn.

The first three segments had transformed him immensely, and his transformation was now almost complete. All he had left to learn was how to shoot and the nuances of being out on assignment, which meant he was on his way back to the classroom. Only this time instead of having to deal with Horchoff’s eccentric teaching style, Richfield himself would be teaching the class. Daniel was very interested to take a peak into the mind of an ex-CIA agent, and learn how to defend the rich and powerful against the world’s deadliest assassins.

Daniel laughed as he brushed his teeth in the mirror. How many “deadliest” assassins could the world really hold? It seemed like something out of fiction.

Daniel walked into the classroom two minutes before the scheduled nine o’clock start time, and to his surprise Richfield was the only one currently occupying the room. He didn’t know why, but he had for some reason expected Mr. Blank and possibly Dr. Horchoff to be in the room with him. It made Daniel a little uneasy to be all alone in a room with someone of Charles Richfield’s reputation.

Richfield was sitting behind a desk at the head of the room, browsing the day’s newspaper, his reading glasses resting on the tip of his nose. To the uneducated observer he appeared a harmless man in his late fifties. He wore a faded, off-white button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone to reveal a worn, white t-shirt underneath.

Daniel walked over to the table nearest to the desk, and took a seat facing Richfield. Without looking down from the paper, Richfield spoke.

“Anything off about the room?” he asked.

Daniel took a look around the room. It was the same one in which he had his class with Horchoff during his first three weeks of training when he first learned how to use his abilities. There was one striking difference that he had picked up on when he first entered the room.

“The desk,” Daniel said, answering Richfield’s question. “It was a table before.”

“Very good,” Richfield responded. “Now what does that mean?”

Daniel sat confused for a moment before remembering why he was there. This was a lesson in how to recognize a threat when on assignment. As an Elite agent, it would be his responsibility to identify threats and neutralize them in the interest of defending the client.

“It’s a potential threat?” Daniel asked rather than answered.

Richfield lowered his paper and stared into Daniel’s eyes through the glasses on the end of his nose. Suddenly Daniel felt his arms start to tingle as they rested on the table in front of him. He tried to move them, but found he couldn’t. He was paralyzed. Suddenly the tingling turned to a stinging sensation that shot through his entire body.

He let out a scream of agony, preparing to alter his pain receptors when suddenly the sensation disappeared. He lifted his forearms off the table and began rubbing them, a slight tingling sensation still lingering.

Richfield put down his paper and stood up from the desk. He walked up to the table and reached underneath, pulling from under it a small, black box – a small antenna sticking out from the top and a red light blinking on one side.

“A remote electrical charge,” Richfield explained. “This particular one doesn’t create enough voltage to be harmful, but it makes its point.”

Richfield turned around and tossed the box onto the desk before climbing onto its surface and taking a seat.

“Now imagine that was an explosive,” he said, looking at Daniel.

Daniel nodded, pretending to understand.

“The client is dead,” Richfield elaborated. “You can’t be distracted by every little detail. Just because something is different, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a threat. Sometimes it’s just different.”