Page 32 of Viral Justice

“No one would laugh at an officer of your rank.”

“Maybe not whereIcan see them.” He shrugged. “But it may make things awkward for my staff to have the whole base gossiping about us.”

“I told you before,” she said. “Anyone I find gawking or making fun will have to face me on the mat instead. See you at fourteen hundred, sir.”

She left the office wondering how she could make this situation work. When she looked up, she found herself the subject of Eugene’s gaze.

“He’s all yours, Eugene.”

“Um, thanks?” the private said, uncertainty making the statement a question.

* * *

The sparring room wasunusually busy that afternoon, yet Ali found herself in a wide circle of open space. She glared at the men who were working hard at not looking at her while she waited for Max to arrive.

She’d shown up five minutes early to give herself time to claim adequate space. That didn’t look like it was going to be a problem.

A couple of minutes later Max arrived and joined her on the mat. He looked around sourly and fixed her with an accusatory stare. “Are you going to beat up everyone in the room?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Let me start with you first.”

He sighed in resignation, but came toward her.

She started by demonstrating a simple judo throw used against an attacker coming at a person directly. She went through the motions, landing Max on the mats quite gently three times. Then it was his turn to throw her.

She came at him slowly, allowing him to grab her shirt just like he was supposed to. Instead of pulling her forward and twisting his torso like he should have, he tripped over his own feet, fell to the mat on his back, and yanked her on top of him.

A couple of people chuckled and she untangled herself from Max as she identified the ones who had laughed.

She called both men over and told them to attack. They decided to double team her, but she didn’t hesitate to take them both down. One of them rolled to his feet to attack her from behind.

Did he think she couldn’t handle that? Of course, knowing a woman trains Special Forces in hand-to-hand and discovering she can beat your ass at the same time as beating another guy were two different things.

She put him on his back again. And again.

When he got up a fourth time, Max stepped in. “You’re done and you’re cutting into my training time.”

The soldier sneered at Max and took two swaggering steps toward him.

Max just looked at him for a couple more seconds. Then raised one eyebrow.

The soldier stepped back. “Permission to leave, sir?” the guy asked, all the bravado wiped off his face.

Max nodded once and the moron took off. His buddy picked himself up off the mats and followed him out.

“Now,” Max said, turning back to her. “Where were we?”

Ali sighed. “Two left feet, that’s where we were.”

“If it makes you feel any better I can’t dance either.”

“Not really.” She considered him for a moment, then shook herself and continued with the lesson.

She put Max on the mats in every position imaginable—front, back, sides and practically standing on his head. She didn’t say much beyond “Up.” And “Again.”

Max didn’t say anything at all.

The men sparring around them moved slower than usual, obviously watching with increasing amazement as she, half the size of the colonel, threw him around. She moved from judo to the other martial arts she was an expert in, careful to pull her punches, kicks, and strikes, or she’d have knocked Max cold a dozen times or more.

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