recommend getting into a fistfight with Brooks. He’ll have the advantage on you there. Most girls fight like girls. No wallop to their punches. But if you absolutely have to, a fistful of change will add weight to your punch.”
Then he showed me how to make a proper fist and throw a blow. Which he followed with how to use my elbows, knees, heels, and feet as weapons.
“Ever wear a belt?” War asked me.
“Only as fashion dictates,” I said, wondering where he was going with it.
“There’s a reason besides fashion that cowboys wear those gigantic belt buckles. They make a hell of a weapon. And they’re perfectly legal to carry.”
“And here I thought they were just to hold up pants or draw attention to small waists and curvy hips. I’ll definitely keep the weapon potential of any belt in mind next time I’m in the market for one.”
War smiled. “On to the next topic—every spy should learn one effective move and use it when necessary,” he said after we’d practiced the body-parts-as-powerful-weapons drills. “I’m going to show you one that is potentially fatal. Use it only if you have to. But don’t be afraid to use it if you must.”
I kept up the bobble-head act.
“Listen and watch carefully as I demonstrate,” War said. “Facing him, you grab the crown of the attacker’s hair and pull his head back sharply. You have to do this quickly, catching him by surprise.”
“Yes,” I said.
“This unbalances the attacker and exposes his throat.”
I winced.
“Hang with me, R.”
“Right. I’m here.”
“Good.”
“What if the attacker has no hair?”
“Use a clawlike motion and grab at his nose and eyes, forcing his head back.”
“Okay. What next?”
“You bring your fist up into his windpipe with one hard blow.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “And it’s best, and most lethal, if I have a fistful of coins, right?”
“You got it.” War smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”
“That’s what they tell me,” I said.
“R, do you have a gun?”
“Yes.”
“I mean your own.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“In the safe in my hotel room.”
“Know how to use it?”
I nodded. “I do. I’ve got a membership to a gun club and I go shooting regularly. Plus I have a permit to carry concealed.”
“When you go out of the hotel, carry it with you.”
“Most definitely.”
“R?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re going to carry a weapon, you have to be willing to use it. You have to be willing to shoot to kill.”
I gave War a weak, but somewhat affectionate smile. “Now you’re sounding like my grandpa Dutch.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. One more thing,” War said. “If Jim or any other legal beagle ever asks, I told you that members of the public should only use reasonable force in a self-defense situation and never take preemptive action.”
I smiled. “Gotcha.”
Chapter 10
After I finished my private session with War, I joined the others for the remainder of the reflexive, or instinctive, shooting session. We practiced it first at the range. Explained in the simplest terms, reflexive shooting is shooting with both eyes open, rather than one closed and one on the sight. This allows a larger range of peripheral vision for the shooter, absolutely imperative in a combat, especially close combat, situation.
The trick is to let your dominant eye take over and focus, allowing the other eye to process the situation and surroundings. Like most things, it’s easier said than done. The other thing is to turn control over to the subconscious mind.
We practiced at the range, doing exercises and receiving individual coaching for well over an hour before we took a break in an actual break room. With tables and chairs and a pop machine and everything.
Van pulled up a chair beside me. “Soda?” He offered me a cola.
When I hesitated, he said, “The caffeine buzz will keep you going through the afternoon.”
“Like I’m likely to fall asleep,”
Then he showed me how to make a proper fist and throw a blow. Which he followed with how to use my elbows, knees, heels, and feet as weapons.
“Ever wear a belt?” War asked me.
“Only as fashion dictates,” I said, wondering where he was going with it.
“There’s a reason besides fashion that cowboys wear those gigantic belt buckles. They make a hell of a weapon. And they’re perfectly legal to carry.”
“And here I thought they were just to hold up pants or draw attention to small waists and curvy hips. I’ll definitely keep the weapon potential of any belt in mind next time I’m in the market for one.”
War smiled. “On to the next topic—every spy should learn one effective move and use it when necessary,” he said after we’d practiced the body-parts-as-powerful-weapons drills. “I’m going to show you one that is potentially fatal. Use it only if you have to. But don’t be afraid to use it if you must.”
I kept up the bobble-head act.
“Listen and watch carefully as I demonstrate,” War said. “Facing him, you grab the crown of the attacker’s hair and pull his head back sharply. You have to do this quickly, catching him by surprise.”
“Yes,” I said.
“This unbalances the attacker and exposes his throat.”
I winced.
“Hang with me, R.”
“Right. I’m here.”
“Good.”
“What if the attacker has no hair?”
“Use a clawlike motion and grab at his nose and eyes, forcing his head back.”
“Okay. What next?”
“You bring your fist up into his windpipe with one hard blow.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “And it’s best, and most lethal, if I have a fistful of coins, right?”
“You got it.” War smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”
“That’s what they tell me,” I said.
“R, do you have a gun?”
“Yes.”
“I mean your own.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“In the safe in my hotel room.”
“Know how to use it?”
I nodded. “I do. I’ve got a membership to a gun club and I go shooting regularly. Plus I have a permit to carry concealed.”
“When you go out of the hotel, carry it with you.”
“Most definitely.”
“R?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re going to carry a weapon, you have to be willing to use it. You have to be willing to shoot to kill.”
I gave War a weak, but somewhat affectionate smile. “Now you’re sounding like my grandpa Dutch.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. One more thing,” War said. “If Jim or any other legal beagle ever asks, I told you that members of the public should only use reasonable force in a self-defense situation and never take preemptive action.”
I smiled. “Gotcha.”
Chapter 10
After I finished my private session with War, I joined the others for the remainder of the reflexive, or instinctive, shooting session. We practiced it first at the range. Explained in the simplest terms, reflexive shooting is shooting with both eyes open, rather than one closed and one on the sight. This allows a larger range of peripheral vision for the shooter, absolutely imperative in a combat, especially close combat, situation.
The trick is to let your dominant eye take over and focus, allowing the other eye to process the situation and surroundings. Like most things, it’s easier said than done. The other thing is to turn control over to the subconscious mind.
We practiced at the range, doing exercises and receiving individual coaching for well over an hour before we took a break in an actual break room. With tables and chairs and a pop machine and everything.
Van pulled up a chair beside me. “Soda?” He offered me a cola.
When I hesitated, he said, “The caffeine buzz will keep you going through the afternoon.”
“Like I’m likely to fall asleep,”
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