Chapter 30 – Flying Dragons
Wednesday, July 8, 2308
During her third match, Ashley attracted the attention of her instructors. Her assigned adversary, Roger, lanky and uncoordinated, wasn't a threat to anyone but himself. It took little effort for Ashley to stay out of his reach.
She let him chase her around the ring, swinging for the fences and never making contact. However, despite ample opportunity, Ashley didn't hit Roger.
Sihing Lopez was scoring the match, and at the first break, he approached Ashley. "Why don't you strike and end the round, take the point?”
Ash didn’t answer. She just looked at Roger, gasping and wheezing in his corner. She wasn't even winded.
"If you don't strike, the match will end in a tie," Lopez said.
Ashley rolled her eyes.
Lopez turned and approached the Roger, who was gloriously exhausted. "Breathe. Breathe," Lopez said. "That's it. Breathe.”
Ashley decided to go for the tie. She would keep the match as close as possible. She would let Roger get as close as possible, but not give up any points.
When the whistle blew, Ash walked to the center of the ring and raised her gloves. With her toe, she traced a line across the mat, daring Roger to cross it.
Roger took the bait, but with trepidation. He raised his gloves and inched toward the line, preparing to swing.
Ashley let him come.
Roger fired off a wild jab-hook.
Ashley watched the clumsy explosion of arm, shoulder and face. At no point was she in any real danger.
Roger scrunched up his face when he punched, as if afraid that the act of punching would result in his being struck. Ashley could see why he'd become conditioned to think that way, with such an uncoordinated throw. She let it sail past without moving more than a fraction of an inch.
Punch after punch, Ashley moved as little as she could to avoid him. Soon she was moving closer to his flailing fists, but he couldn’t hit her.
Ashley's dangerous ploy began to draw spectators. The waiting or already finished competitors became interested in her match and the more heads turned, the more heads turned.
Roger stepped in with a haymaker.
Ashley pivoted under the strike, coming up on his unprotected backside.
He spun, panicked, uncoiling as if he were a broken metal spring.
Ash slipped out of the way.
Roger threw three jabs.
Ashley dodged him, his gloves inside kissing range.
Roger stepped in with a knee and a kick.
Ashley eluded him.
He lunged at her; she caught him and kept him from falling.
He combined jabs, hooks and elbows, she gave him a pirouette, landing behind him and then spun twice more, just to keep him off balance.
The timer rang, that was the end of the round.
Sihing Lopez laughed, quite a crowd had gathered.
During the break, Roger had a dozen coaches.
No one said anything to Ashley. Her corner was closer to the wall and outside the action. She waited alone.
In the last round, Roger got more technical, but it was too late, he was exhausted.
After one extravagant punch, Ashley reached out and put a finger at the back of his elbow.
Roger was overextended, his stance was compromised, and in order to escape, he was forced to collapse forward onto the floor.
Ashley stepped back and let him wearily climb to his feet.
Roger didn't raise his hands. He was beaten and knew it. He didn't want to fight anymore. He was humiliated.
Sihing Lopez waved at him, "Come on. Keep going!”
Roger just looked at him.
Lopez looked over to Ashley.
Ash had no intention of hitting Roger.
After kneeing Scott in the face, quite by accident, she saw no reason to further facilitate Shou's brutal lessons. If he wanted people to experience pain, let him dish it out.
Lopez seemed capable of reading her thoughts, but Ashley said nothing.
She stood her ground.
Lopez blew the whistle, ending the third round. He awarded the win to Ashley, as Roger had forfeit the match.
Wednesday, July 8, 2308
Ross adjusted his gear as the autopilot threaded the midday Angel City traffic. The computer chimed, alerting him that they had reached their destination vector. The major powered up his phase camouflage, opened the hatch and stepped into the wild blue yonder.
As the gravity harness came online, his free fall was gradually reversed until he was ascending again.
Ross activated his thermal lenses and went looking for his friend.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Croswell asked.
“We have to do something. And you shipped our MVPs to BFE, just when we needed them most.”
“Ana’s trip has been planned for months. Te’s got some new tech he’s jumping out of his shorts to show us. And we need King right where he is, you’ll see I’m right about that.”
“Hey, I agree with you there,” Ross said.
“If we make a move now, Stanwood will say we’re trying to take over. He’s got the AG and half of the congressional branch convinced that Fox is planning a coup.”
“Are we?”
“What?”
“Planning a coup?”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because killing Stanwood isn’t a coup, for one thing.”
“I think you need to look a little deeper, we both know that nerd is Conway’s puppet.”
“You think this is Conway?”
“If not him, then Big John Phillips. Was Conway there for your little chat the other day?”
“You know he wasn’t”
“But Miller and Clarke, they were. And you think Miller is going to have something incriminating in his office?”
“No. But it will piss him off.”
“Let’s just wax Stan.”
“If we kill Stanwood now, they will come down on us like a ton of bricks. I can guarantee you our names will come out as the active agents on the Centaur project; and then where will we be? Immortal but locked out of society? Hunted? Yeah, fun.”
“Let’s go all the way then, straight to the top. A coup, mutiny, that will be fun.”
“Are you suggesting installing Fox as the CEO? Let me go on record stating that would be a disaster.”
Ross took a deep breath. “Can’t say I disagree with you there?”
“And I don’t want that job,” Croswell said.
“Who cares who takes it next? We know who it won’t be.”
“Look, to do this properly, we would need to eliminate all of Fox’s enemies. That’s at least fifty elected senators and congressmen. Once we kick that first domino, we have to keep going until half the governing body of the country is shifting six feet of black soil. Even as insulated as we are, we don’t have the juice for that kind of drama. Every agency will go on red alert the moment Stanwood hits the pavement. We can’t just go at this like a tank through a pre-school. I’m all for eliminating Stanwood. But we need to think bigger. We need to set him up, expose his weakness, whatever it is. We need to find out who’s feeding him his information.”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ross asked.
“Not to me,” Croswell answered.
“You were there the last time Fox stopped by the Oval Office, before Epsilon. He hooked up Stagwell with an amplifier, but from what I understand, he’s never met with Conway about all this.”
“Are you trying to say Conway feels left out?”
“Maybe.”
“If Stanwood has managed to convince him that he had something to fear, we don’t want to go confirming that. We need to discredit him, squeeze him out and then flush him, if you catch my meaning.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“Good. Can we get on with it then?”
“You really think tossing Senator Miller’s office will b
e enough to shake them up?”
“Stanwood was his right hand for nine years, He would have never gotten the Intel desk otherwise. Miller is behind everything Stanwood does, that much I am sure of.”
“I’m glad Snow is in Jerusalem. She’d be examining his tonsils with her compensator if she thought he was behind all this.”
Invisible, Ross and Croswell approached the window of Senator Miller’s unoccupied west coast office.
“Let me clone his system, before you let everyone know we’re here.”
“Hurry up,” Croswell said, attaching a small explosive to the window.
“At least let me get what we came her for, before you go tearing up the place.” Ross operated his Micronix Amplifier, scanning the Senator’s network for open access ports.
“Sheesh, Fine. Waiting,” Croswell muttered.
“Wait quietly.” Ross smiled.
“I believe Secretary of Defense outranks Major,” Croswell said.
“You’re a civilian now. You don’t have a rank. Besides, I’m secret service. We answer to the President.”
“La-ti-da. I could still whip you in a fist fight.”
“Yeah, for about thirty seconds, old timer.”
“You’re not too spry yourself. About as fast as a broken-down hound dog with hip dysplasia.”
“I’m fast. I’m so fast I can hack a senator’s desk terminal while putting up with your lame put-downs.”
“Are you almost finished? I have a charge here that really wants to pop,” Croswell said.
“I’m done,” Ross said. “Indulge yourself.”
Smiling, Croswell triggered the plastic explosive, blowing out the senator’s window. Inside, he sprayed thousands of tiny transmitters in wide band across the ceiling, and then he set about to trashing the room.
Ross waited, hovering invisibly in the sky, as Secretary of Defense James Croswell literally tossed the office, throwing everything around, half of which made its way out the window and streamed away from the building with the afternoon breeze.
The phase-cam warped the light particles around Croswell’s armor, rendering him completely invisible. The security guards opened the office doors and did nothing more than watch as Senator Miller’s shelves and desk drawers emptied themselves into the afternoon sky.