She put on her game face and launched at him again, initiating the attack with a left-right combination. Instead of blocking, Roen spun to his left and her blow just missed him. He kept spinning until he made a full turn and was now behind her. She was precariously out of position, and he went to work. He grabbed her in a bear hug. Sonya grunted in surprise as he lifted her up. Even sweating, she smelled good.
He grinned triumphantly. “I got you this time. You can’t get out of this. Give up and…” She kicked back and caught him in the knee. His legs buckled; she threw her head back, striking him in the forehead. “Ahhh,” Roen cried, dazed, but he held on.
On the side, Lin laughed. “I didn’t teach you t’ai chi so you could become a professional wrestler, stupid boy.”
That looked painful.
“Thanks for the useless observation, Tao.”
Sonya took the opening to squirm out of his bear hug and kick him in the face. Roen’s head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor. She stood over him, panting and grinning. “Not bad. This was your best effort yet. You move like a t’ai chi practitioner already. You don’t hit like one, but you’re starting to move like one.” She offered her hand.
“I think I need to lie here for a few minutes.” He grimaced. “I’m feeling light-headed.”
“Come on, you big baby.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, ignoring his groans. Roen leaned on her as they walked back to Lin. She felt very soft.
“You did not win, but I was not disappointed.” Lin nodded.
Roen wasn’t sure, but that could’ve been the second almost compliment he had ever received from Lin. Twice in one day. What was this world coming to?
“Well, this was fun, but we have to get going,” Sonya said as she wiped her face and grabbed her jacket. “Get dressed, Roen. I’m taking you out to dinner, my apology in advance for what I’m about to put you through tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: AWAY GAME
To make matters worse, the plague found its way to these lands anyway. The turmoil I had created set the tone for the next three hundred years until the dynasty fell. When Zhu died, I had my fill of empires and dreams, and decided to return west. This part of the world deserved to be free of me, for I had brought nothing to the people here except death and tyranny.
Exactly seven months into his life as a host, Roen was laid off from his job when his company found contractors in India who did the same work for a quarter of the price. It was a mixed blessing of sorts. Tao had no choice then but to put him on a Prophus stipend, meaning his official job from that point on was to not screw up his missions too badly. The stipend, though, was pitifully small.
“No wonder Marc defected,” he said, gaping at the first check that came in.
You start at the bottom of the totem pole like every other rookie. Why do you think I told you to keep your job?
“How can I afford anything with this? I get more collecting unemployment!”
Bullets are expensive. Learn to shoot better.
“Do I ever get more?”
You mean like a raise? Sure, start killing Genjix or better yet, invent Quasing membrane reproduction in this atmosphere. Command would probably buy you a tropical island then.
“I’d like Moorea please.”
You will have to get in line for that one.
Much to his chagrin, Roen immediately began to miss his old job. It was one of the last pieces of his normal, prior life he had left. A year ago, he would have rejoiced at being laid off and becoming a full-time agent. Now, it made him sad. He spent his first few unemployed days waking up early and staring from his balcony at the hundreds of people bustling off to work.
“I used to be one of them. I don’t know if I like the new me.”
There is a period of adjustment, Roen. You are simply maturing into your new role.
“Period of adjustment? Is that what you call it? I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Since Roen no longer had disposable income to do much else, he found himself spending more time training with Sifu Lin. Lin seemed to have finally warmed up to Roen, which wasn’t saying much. The stick was still there, as were the constant verbal punishments, but more and more, Lin spent his time teaching rather than punishing.
November 15th became a day that Roen considered as important as his birthday, or whenever Jill’s birthday was. That day was the first time he successfully landed a blow on Lin. Roen didn’t know which of them was more shocked.
The strike resulted from a complex series of feints and sidesteps – that started with Roen getting punched four times – before he caught Lin out of position, and popped him on his chubby cheeks. It was a satisfying punch. Very satisfying. Lin blinked once in surprise before he howled with laughter, and with what Roen could only presume was pride. Then Lin actually stopped training early to sit and enjoy several bottles of Lin’s favorite beverage: Taiwan Beer.
Roen should have known it was a trap. After he had gotten drunk, Lin insisted on continuing their lesson. What happened afterward wasn’t pretty.
The new year rolled around and Roen had just returned from a six-week-long string of assignments, culminating in a security detail escorting a prominent host. He was in Iowa as part of the protection detail for a Prophus presidential nominee. While the Secret Service officially managed the nominee’s security, a dozen Prophus agents worked around the clock to ensure her safety from the real threat of Genjix assassination.
Intelligence had found a Genjix sniper team on top of a building outside the nominee’s hotel. The Prophus came down in full force on the sniper team and neutralized them just before the nominee left her car. During the exchange, Roen startled a sniper trying to escape, and the sniper tripped and fell off the side of the building. The rest of the team thought enough of Roen to give him credit for the kill. Their nominee lost the Iowa primary by thirty points.
“We really know how to pick them, don’t we?” he muttered as he drove back home.
We knew she was a long shot, but we had to try. Getting one of us in the White House is a real game changer.
“Still, thirty points? Stalin could run in the Iowa primaries and do better than thirty points.”
Regardless, there was an attempt on her life, and we stopped it. I consider that a job well done.
“I guess. I think the Genjix could’ve just waited until after the primaries and saved themselves some bullets.”
Roen stepped into his apartment, exhausted from the constant travel. Antonio, as usual, was working the night shift at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning. It was too bad. The two hadn’t spent much time together recently and Roen missed him. Roen turned on the television and surfed through the channels, pausing on CNN and ESPN. It was the usual news: the Bears weren’t going into the playoffs, the Bulls’ offseason was terrible, and there was an SEC investigation at two firms for securities fraud.
He tuned out the rambling commentary as he logged onto his network system and perused through Prophus news. He didn’t anticipate another job for at least a week or two. Still, he diligently checked his messages and was about to log off when a new message popped up. Roen sighed and opened it, skimming over the background and going straight for his actionable items and timelines. He had thought he’d have a few days of rest at least.
Roen leaned back onto the couch and picked up his cat. The poor creature had been feeling neglected for months now and hissed as he tried to escape. He held on to the tabby as he squirmed and dug his claws into his arm. “Now, now, pussycat,” he murmured.
Have you decided on giving him a real name yet?