Free Noble Warrior by Alan Lawrence Sitomer Page A

go for the…?”
    “Cuff me.”
    M.D. extended his arms. Puwolsky paused for a moment before taking any action.
    Kid’s brave
, he said to himself.
Ain’t no doubt about that.
    After parking the car by the loading dock, Puwolsky reached under the seat and lifted a set of silver handcuffs.
    “Everyone said you’re a warrior, kid.” Puwolsky clicked the steel bracelets over McCutcheon’s wrists. “They weren’t lying.”

O n the outside, McCutcheon appeared calm, cool, and collected, but on the inside fear screamed through his veins. The sound of the handcuffs
clicking shut triggered a massive surge of terror.
    He hadn’t expected the suffocating feel of the steel shackles on his wrists to set off his internal panic alarms they way they did. Especially not as suddenly or as quickly or as
deeply.
    But they did.
    He took a slow, deep breath and reminded himself that in a fight-or-flight world, fear kept people alive. Sometimes fear pushed people to great heights. But sometimes fear paralyzed.
    Ultimately, as McCutcheon knew, fear boiled down to choice. Fear could devastate him or it could propel him. Fear, as the martial arts taught, was nothing more than energy. The challenge for its
students became to properly channel it.
    A very real sense of dread continued to grow in the pit of M.D.’s stomach. He knew he had to slow his inner world down, reflect on his feelings, and remind himself that there was only one
proper way to deal with this torrent of terror.
    No, he could not control whether the fear existed, but he could take responsibility for his reaction to it.
    Stay here
, he told himself.
Breathe into it. Sit with this fear, don’t run or deny or hide from it. Listen to its message.
    Yes, this fear felt immense. But also, M.D. reminded himself, it would not last. No emotion was ever permanent.
    What was permanent then?
McCutcheon asked himself.
What existed past the clutter, beyond the ups and downs, beneath the seas of emotional turmoil?
    He answered immediately:
My strength.
    Nothing had transpired yet. Nothing at all. McCutcheon was merely sitting inside a Cadillac wearing handcuffs he’d voluntarily put on and could still ask to be removed. For all the horrors
his imagination could have created, all the anxiety he could have manifested by focusing on all the potential terror of entering an ominous prison as an undercover agent on a lone-wolf mission, as
of that exact moment nothing at all had yet occurred.
    Love, he knew, was stronger than fear. Always.
Did he still want to go in?
McCutcheon asked himself.
    Yes.
    Am I sure?
    Yes.
    Why am I sure?
    Because my motivation stems from a place of love.
    So how, M.D. asked himself, was it best to go in, like a scared little child filled with worry and dread or like a brave and noble warrior owning courage, purpose, and strength?
    On the inside, M.D. felt a surge of power rise up inside of him. Being anxious would negatively affect his ability to execute this mission. Did he want to be anxious?
    No.
    Did he need to be terrified?
    Alert, yes. Terrified, no.
    Was all this negative energy of any actual use to him?
    Energy is just energy, which means this fear can be a gift if you rechannel it.
    His inner power began to grow.
    My body is ready, I am in the best shape of my life, and I am motivated by the purest reason that exists. I will be okay.
    McCutcheon repeated the last line to himself a second time, knowing that once inside, the power of his mind would be his sharpest sword.
    I will be more than okay. I will succeed.
    He breathed in and breathed out, slowly, patiently, deeply.
    Thank you, fear
, McCutcheon said.
Stay if you like
—
or go
—
but know that I hear and appreciate your concerns.
    Poof!
The terror vanished. In its place was a reservoir of confidence, power, and poise.
    “Hey,” Puwolsky asked, snapping his fingers. “Hey kid, are you okay?”
    McCutcheon blinked his eyes open and they shined with the light of a wolf. He turned to the