Fight to the Finish (10 page)

With his eyes closed, he sat peacefully, seemingly lost in some other world. He’d looked like that in the conference room, too.

Mystic didn’t respond at first, and right when I thought he
wouldn’t
answer, his lips curled into a soft smile. “I’m listening to my mother.”

None of us had a response to that, and in fact, didn’t even exchange a glance. Our gazes were fixed on Mystic.

His eyelids fluttered open, and I saw peace there. I could only imagine how it would feel to hear my mother’s voice.

And then he told us about his mother, his father, his baby sister. And how he’d been raised in a commune in the hills of TN. How people fueled by hate had viciously killed his family, not only blood, but those he had grown up with.

Wirenut spoke next. He shared his horrid past and how he’d watched his parents and older brothers be slaughtered by his evil uncle. He described growing up in boys’ homes and the criminal path he’d taken that had finally gotten him recruited by TL.

Bruiser went next, describing abandonment as a small girl and being found by a wonderful man who raised her and other street kids. She told us about learning to fight by this man, Red, and how she hoped to one day see him again.

Parrot picked up the conversation, sharing his past. His mother being sold into slavery, his father dying, his grandmother sick and raising him. He described being manipulated by his Indian chief to translate deals involving children and women being sold into slavery.

Somewhere in the conversation Beaker and Cat sat down. Cat had been raised by the same man who slaughtered Wirenut’s family. She’d been lied to her whole life and found her first truth and freedom when joining the Specialists.

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Beaker described her abusive, neglectful mother. How she’d been pegged a drug user in school and no one liked her. How she’d lived out of the locker rooms in the high school and because of a fluke explosion she’d caused, found her way to the Specialists.

And then I shared my story, losing my parents in a plane crash. Moving from foster family to foster family. Being pegged a freak because my IQ made people scared of me. And how David had been my very first friend. David had recruited me into this new lifestyle.

When we finished, none of us uttered a word. But the feeling of family and unity was so strong between all of us, I was sure they felt it, too.

The conversation picked up again as Beaker told us about the very unexpected news that her and David were siblings.

Bruiser dropped a bomb, revealing her and TL were raised by the same man.

Parrot shared stories of being reunited with his mother.

Mystic revealed he’d known all along about our pasts.

Wirenut pulled his shirt up and showed the horrid scar he always hid.

I told them I’d just found out after my last mission that I had a sister.

I didn’t know, we didn’t know, if we were saying stuff we weren’t supposed to say.

Things TL might not want us sharing. But we didn’t care. It flowed from us. None of us held back.

We shared our fears, our hopes, our desires. We put ourselves out there, raw and impure.

It was amazing, truly amazing, the level our bond deepened. It was like we’d been waiting for this moment for over a year. Secrets revealed. Souls bared. Each of us knew without a doubt that we would be connected forever.

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Under the table, Parrot took my hand. I grasped Wirenut’s, and he clasped Cat’s. She reached across the table and took Beaker’s, and her and Bruiser linked fingers. On it went to Mystic and back to Parrot, all of us quietly holding hands, and for the first time truly becoming one.

* * *

That afternoon Bruiser wanted everybody to meet outside for the day’s training. So carrying my video cam and tripod, I pulled my laptop strap further up my shoulder and crossed the yard to the barn.

That weird sensation hit me again.

Someone’s watching me.

Maybe

Bruiser bounced from foot to foot, like I’d seen athletes do when they were trying to keep their bodies warm. “Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Six days left to make Mystic and David competitive fighters. Today we’re doing a little bit of everything. Striking, take down, submission. Like I said, MMA.”

“And right when you’re the most tired,” Bruiser continued, “we’re taking it outside in the fashion of the Greeks. We’re going to throw rocks, run piggy backed with one another, bench press each other, military press wood beams, and squats until you drop. No modern day equipment. We’re going to condition our bodies like the warriors used to.”

I got exhausted just listening to the rundown.

A shadow flicked in my peripheral vision, and I turned to see an average sized man with a bushy gray beard step into the barn.

“Sounds like the Molly I know,” the man said.

“Red!” Molly squealed and sprinted across the barn.

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With a smile, I watched Bruiser and Red embrace.

“How’s my spunky Molly?” Red asked, squeezing her tight.

She returned the squeeze. “Oh, Red, I missed you so much.”

Every since I had known her, Bruiser had always been happy go lucky, fun, never took anything serious. And she pretty much wore a perpetual grin on her face. But seeing her here with Red brought out a glow in her that I had never seen before. She seemed to beam with excitement, and for the first time since I’d known her, her body came across relaxed, content.

Which was funny, seeing as how I had never noticed that she seemed
un
content in any way until now. It was amazing how much body language showed a person’s emotions.

“How do you feel?” Bruiser asked as she stepped back from Red. “You look great.”

Smiling down at her, he tweaked her chin. “I’m fine. Perfect in fact.”

“How long are you here for?” she asked.

Red glanced over her head to TL. “We’ll find out in a second.”

TL crossed the barn to where Red stood and went straight into his arms. No handshake.

No greeting. Just a heartfelt, long hug. Red turned his head and whispered something into TL’s ear, and he nodded his head.

Although TL’s back was to me, I imagined his eyes squeezed tight as he received the warm embrace. I probably didn’t, but I thought I heard TL sniff back tears. That sound, that small sniffle, brought tears to my own eyes, and at that moment, I truly felt TL’s pain.

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And for the first time ever, I saw TL in a different light. I saw him vulnerable, just a man fighting for his family. I saw him human, as weird as that sounds, and not as some sort of super hero immune to pain and able to accomplish anything.

Red whispered something else to TL and gave him a pat on the back. TL discreetly rubbed his face on Red’s shirt, took a deep breath, and turned to us.

“Team,” TL addressed us. “I’d like you to meet the man who raised both me and Bruiser, our father, Mr. Red Cartlynn.”

By ‘father’ I knew he didn’t mean blood related, but it made no difference. Here stood the man who raised both TL and Bruiser. How crazy was that? Every day around this place revealed something new—that was for sure.

“Please feel free to call him Red,” TL continued. “You are standing in the presence of one of the most highly decorated veterans in our nation. An Army Ranger, sniper, with four combat tours in Vietnam. Later recruited into the CIA. Went MIA in southeast Asia. Crossed the border into Thailand. Studied under the world’s best fighters. He is one of the elite. However, he still suffers from the lingering affects of hepatitis and malaria while he was a POW.” TL glanced over to Red. “So he’s going to take it easy.”

Red chuckled. “Complete burnout and being double crossed by a few unnamed people sent me into hiding. Glad that I did. I would have never met Tommy and Molly.”

Tommy? That cute nickname for TL made me smile.

TL pointed to each of us, introducing us. “That’s GiGi, our computer specialist. And Mystic, our clairvoyant. David, my right hand. And Jonathan in charge of physical training.

You’ll the meet the rest tonight at dinner.”

We all smiled and nodded hello.

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“Red,” TL continued, “has agreed to join us here at the ranch as our warfare specialist.”

“Really?” Bruiser nearly squealed.

Red nodded. “Really. And I’m also going to be assisting in training you all for this mission.”

Her excitement was so evident it nearly vibrated off of her.

Red waved his hand in the air. “Okay, I’ve interrupted you enough. Carry on.”

Straightening her tank top, Bruiser turned to us. “Alrighty, before we move into Greek conditioning, I want to feel the anger. It doesn’t matter what your personality is, when you are competing, you have to maintain a level, thinking head and at the same time channel fury. You want power behind your muscles, and fury, mixed with concentration, is the way to obtain it.”

She turned to Mystic and her face transitioned into obvious doubt. “Are you going to be able to channel fury?”

Mystic shrugged, not looking too convinced. “Sure.”

“Just think of what really pisses you off, and use
that
,” Bruiser slammed her right fist into her other hand, “to put power behind your punch.”

I turned to Mystic, doubting anything ever pissed him off. “Well?”

His jaw clenched. “My foster father.”

His foster father? Hmmm . . . I wondered at the type of man who could get this reaction out of peaceful, in-touch-with-the-world Mystic. His foster father must have been a real jerk.

Bruiser pointed her finger at Mystic. “You’re really irritated. I can see it on your face.

That’s good. And sometimes that’s not so good. Depending on your opponent, it’ll work to your advantage to either show that fury or mask it.” She walked straight up to him. “Hit me with your fist.”

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Jaw still clenched, Mystic shook his head.

She got right in his face. “I’m not doing this again with you. When I tell you to do something, you do it. We have a little over a week to train for this fight. So enough already.

Think of your foster father and hit me.”

Mystic reared back and slammed his fist into Bruiser’s gut.

I sucked in a breath.

Mystic sucked in a breath.

And Bruiser smiled. “Not bad.”

Not bad? I’d be bent over moaning from that. Mystic wasn’t exactly a small dude.

He reached for her. “I’m sorry. Oh my God, Bruiser, I’m so sorry.”

She smiled even bigger. “Felt good, didn’t it?”

Mystic frowned. “No.”

Bruiser wagged her finger in his face. “Liar. You know that felt good. Come on, admit it.”

Mystic just looked at her.

“Come on,” she egged him on, “admit it.”

He shrugged. “Okay, a little.”

She jabbed her finger in the air. “Ah-hah! It would’ve felt superb if it would have been your foster father, huh?”

Mystic reluctantly nodded, clearly not liking this violent side of him. He reached for her again. “Seriously, you okay?”

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She waved him off. “Didn’t even feel it. Okay,” she turned to all of us. “Originally, I wanted to do some striking and MMA work first, but I’ve changed my mind. Let’s do a little Greek style conditioning.” Bruiser pointed to me. “You
sure
you want to do this?”

I nodded. “Experiencing the training and the world of a fighter first hand will give me a

‘one up’ on those designers who will be presenting to Harry Noor. And afterward I’ll take statistics on everybody. Using Chapling’s Influence Sway Skins, I’ll trace pulse velocity, strapping adroitness, fortitude, faction, lactic acerbic dissolve, and a few others. I’ll amalgamate that with my Combat Thrash Program and come up with at least three variations to arrangements that will outrival a unit feat.”

Everyone just looked at me.

I sighed. “Never mind. Just trust I know what I’m doing.” Where was Chapling when I needed someone to understand me?

Bruiser pointed to the barn doors. “Let’s take it outside.”

Everyone filed out as I grabbed the video cam, tripod, and my laptop. I followed the group outside and behind the barn.

Bruiser had turned the side yard into an old fashioned training ground. There were a pile of mid-sized boulders off to the left. Between two trees about six feet from each other she’d tied thick rope—two strands up high and two down low. I studied the get up as I set the cam back up, trying to figure out exactly what those ropes would be used for.

Bruiser beckoned Red over with a nod of her head. “Flexibility is a key factor in conditioning your body for a fight. I expect you two,” she pointed to David and Mystic, “to do what I’m about to show you ten times a day.”

Mystic and David nodded their understanding.

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Bruiser positioned herself between the trees and held her arms up and out to her sides.

Red tied her right wrist to a rope high up on one tree and her left wrist to the other tree, leaving her upper body sprawled and stretched.

He took her left ankle next, lifting it, pulling it, and tying it to the left tree. With the tiptoes of her right foot only, she stood supported.

“Ready?” Red asked her.

She

nodded.

Grasping her right ankle, he took it out from under her and stretched it over to the other tree, tying that leg off as well.

Sprawled to the max, her legs stretched and strained sideways to form a perfect split. I cringed as my own legs ached just watching her.

Bruiser smiled. “This, my friends, is awesome for flexibility. And obviously it takes a partner to tie you up. David and Mystic, you two are competing. Like I said, this is most certainly an exercise I want you to do every day. You’ll start off with five minutes and build your time from there. I, personally, love to hang for thirty or more minutes.”

Thirty or more minutes? Ug. That hurt just thinking about it.

“And no worries,” she continued. “The rope won’t take you any further than you’re ready for.”

With that, she nodded to Red. He adjusted the rope around the tree, and her body dropped, hyper extending her stretch by pulling her legs straight up to form a V.

Ow! That couldn’t be good for her body.

Bruiser nodded to Red again, and he loosened her ties one-by-one, letting her body drop back into a standing position.

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