Free The Seraphim Sequence: The Fifth Column 2 by Nathan M Farrugia Page B

She pivoted on the spot, trapping his arm against her other hand and her stomach. His arm was locked straight. She applied pressure on his elbow with one hand and used the other to cover his eyes. Before he knew what had happened, he fell into a sitting position. By the time he could see again, her knee was clamped over his arm and the other hovered over his neck.
    ‘Hmm,’ she said.
    She stood, allowing him to get back to his feet.
    He did so, calmly and slowly. He’d made a stupid mistake and he wasn’t about to repeat it. He tried his best to make it look like this happened all the time. Closing his fists over, he prepared for a second go. He had to take her down on this one or he’d look like a fucking idiot.
    ‘You’re probably a bit rusty,’ Nasira said. ‘Chickenhead, if you don’t mind?’
    Chickenhead loped toward them. ‘Nothing I like more than being an operative’s boxing bag.’
    ‘Jay,’ Nasira said. ‘Go easy.’
    ‘Yeah.’ He gave a thumbs up. ‘Of course.’
    Chickenhead nodded at Jay, then moved in. He feigned an attack and then wheeled to Jay’s right. He was copying Nasira. Jay tracked him, kept his guard up. Chickenhead lifted his knee ever so slightly. Probably an unconscious movement. Muay Thai maybe. Chickenhead could use that knee later. Jay needed to keep an eye on it.
    Chickenhead tossed a few decoys his way. He batted one aside, sidestepped the other. He moved in, but Chickenhead’s knee came up. Jay halted before walking into range, changed tactics and snapped a low kick into Chickenhead’s ribs. Chickenhead’s knee moved. Jay watched it, but it didn’t come toward him. Chickenhead’s shin scooped Jay’s leg up in mid-kick and redirected it somewhere else. Jay watched his leg splay to one side, tipping him forward. To keep his balance, he came down into a crouch. Chickenhead planted his bare foot on Jay’s knee. The knee buckled, flattened his leg out. Jay struggled not to do the splits. Chickenhead’s elbow swung for his head. He craned forward just in time. But Chickenhead had pinned his ankle down, he couldn’t get up. He wanted to twist and roll out, but Chickenhead’s hand covered his face and his eyes, pulling him back. Similar to what Nasira had just done to him. And he’d fallen for it twice . He was flat on his back again and Chickenhead was on top of him.
    Chickenhead offered him a hand, but Jay pretended not to notice and got to his feet. Chickenhead was better trained than he’d expected, which suggested Special Forces.
    ‘Were you Commandos, Tactical Assault?’ Jay said. ‘SAS?’
    Chickenhead shook his head. ‘Nah, haven’t touched a rifle since basic. Navy, sonar officer.’
    ‘Huh.’ Jay dusted himself off.
    He heard Big Dog murmur, ‘I thought he was a super soldier.’
    The crew members slowly dispersed. Jay read disappointment in that and wished he’d scheduled his workout another time.
    He approached Nasira. ‘We had the same training. How did you move so fast?’
    ‘Because I’m free,’ she said.
    Jay watched her walk out. Screw that, he thought. He picked up his pace and caught her in the corridor.
    ‘What you do in there,’ he said, ‘what is that?’
    ‘It’s called training, Jay. You should try it sometime. Watch your head.’
    ‘It’s different from what I—’ Jay banged his head on a pipe. ‘Teach me.’
    She stopped and faced him. She tried to put her hands on her hips, but there wasn’t enough room so she settled for folding them across her breasts. He tried not to think about that. Her breasts, that is.
    ‘Teach you what?’ she said.
    ‘You know. How to … how to fight like that.’
    ‘You already know how to fight. You just need to learn how to move.’
    ‘Fine,’ Jay said. ‘Can you teach me how to move?’
    Nasira arched an eyebrow.
    ‘Please,’ he added.
    She pushed past him and re-entered the training area. ‘Get your ass in here,’ she called out behind her.
    Jay followed her. ‘OK, let’s do