The Life We Lead: Ascending (22 page)

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Authors: George Nagle

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #action, #espionage, #series, #james bond, #spy, #sherlock holmes, #conspiaracy, #spy action thriller

BOOK: The Life We Lead: Ascending
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James nodded. He knew better than to discount
what blind revenge and greed could do to people.

“Anything else, Tim?” James asked.

“No. Nothing
they
said,” Tim
replied.

James’s eyes narrowed. Tim was a literalist,
after all. “Did anyone else say anything that I didn’t hear?”

“Oh yeah. The kids were all talking. A lot of
them could speak a lot of languages, you know. They mostly were
saying, ‘Pick me, play with me, I am soft, or come join us.’ Things
like that. Some of them had marks on them. Like bad hurts and
scars. I think that they need to watch them more carefully so they
don’t get hurt.” Tim said this last part with determination
and then went on.

“When Seim and I walked past the kitchen
going to the bathroom, I could hear a lot of voices talking. They
were talking about getting food ready for a feast the next day and
someone was talking about needing extra help with the roof. Then
two people close to the door were talking about something with
getting ‘her’ feet ready and they laughed, but it was two men. They
sounded like older people.”

“Any idea how many?” James asked.

Tim thought for a moment. “Obviously, I don’t
know how many, but I heard four different voices and it sounded
like a lot of people in the room. One of the voices was a woman and
the other three sounded like men.”

“Any idea what they were talking about?”

“No, it sounded like general talking about
things they needed to do,” said Tim.

James registered there were probably a lot
more people there than they had seen. “That it?” he asked.

“That is all I can remember. Seim didn’t
speak. Just pointed. Oh, the bathroom was very old. It had boxes on
the walls like the fancy ones, but was not very nice. It was clean,
though. That is it,” Tim finished.

“I can’t thank you enough, Tim. Honestly, you
were great and did more to help than I could ever have
expected.”

Tim just smiled and said, “You are welcome.
Are we done? Can I work on the drawings now?”

“Yes, sir, you may. Tim, for the fortress
especially, a map style drawing would be helpful, as well as what
the whole thing looked like as we pulled up. Each of the office
walls with the monitors would be great. Same for Noi’s office
area,” James clarified.

“Not a problem. I like drawing.” Tim walked
over and shook his hand again in the same stiff manner as before,
and James smiled.

Tom walked Tim out, and James sat a moment
before pulling out the file on Spara. It sounded like more adults
were in that place than just the Tan family, and that Yan had taken
over for Daddy, with Mom as the figurehead.

He wondered about the younger adults in the
place. They were probably “leftovers” nobody had bought who had
little choice about what they did. Sad, the traps people fell into
through no error of their own, due to the selfishness of a few and
the blind eye of many.

He put the folder away. Somehow, this matter
with Spara seemed to have taken a backseat to the unexpected issue
with the Tan family. He felt fired up and decided to go work it out
in the combat zone training area.

Chapter Thirteen

Walking through the solid double doors to the
training portion of the building a minute later, James found a few
people on the floor carrying the hanging bags and sparring
equipment. He could see others working out in the weights area
behind the etched glass, but he didn’t know who they were. He
walked into the locker room and greeted his friend Gary, who was
heading toward the other exit to the aquatics section. He was
wearing a wet suit.

James changed into shorts and a t-shirt
before grabbing his gloves and feet pads. Just before he closed the
door to his locker, he heard his phone ring. It was his mom.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” James answered.

“Nice to see you’re actually talking, Mr.
Quiet. Where is the thing your dad uses outside on his thing?” She
could never remember what his father’s tools were called.

“Outside?” James asked in a smart-alecky
way.

“Don’t be funny. He’s looking for it and
can’t find it,” his mom said.

“Mom, you have to tell me a little bit more
about what he’s looking for. And why didn’t he just call?” James
asked.

“I don’t know. He’s running around trying to
get some of the road leveled back down because he doesn’t like the
tapper or something. The pavers are coming but have already said it
was fine as it was. Told him he’d better not mess it up and end up
costing us more.” She said this calmly before screaming,

What
?”

James pulled the phone away from his ear a
moment before saying, “I hope whatever that was was worth my ear
drum bursting.”

“Stop whining or I’ll give you something to
cry about,” she retorted.

His mom was a very caring person, but that
was easy to miss due to her rather hard shell. Often there was not
a lot of sympathy spared on “life’s bumps and bruises,” as she
called them. As kids, getting a swift blow to the head was a daily
occurrence, so much so that all four of the older ones
instinctually flinched when she walked by. A determined woman, she
didn’t believe in wasting money and rarely did much for herself.
She had overcome a lot, much of it so that her children were fed
and clothed.

The family wasn’t exactly poor, but they
certainly didn’t have a great deal of money. Many nights, dinner
was a bowl of oatmeal, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The
older children didn’t have brand name clothing growing up unless
they bought it themselves. The age span of twenty five years
between the oldest and youngest helped a bit in terms of costs, but
there were no funds to send anyone to college. Even if there had
been, chances are they wouldn’t have been given, as it was the
family belief that if you wanted something, you had to find a way
to get it. This was a lesson James had learned many times, and one
of the first he could recall.

“Your dad says it’s the boom pin for the
bucket,” she continued.

“Oh, it’s in the truck box on the left hand
side in the middle shelf. Or it was the last time I saw it. If he
‘reorganized’ again, then I have no idea,” James said. He added,
“‘The thing your dad uses outside on his thing,’ really? That was
the best description you could give me?”

“Shut up,” his mom said before hollering,

Check the middle shelf on the left; he said in the box!

James assumed she was yelling to his dad,

“And now both my ears are bleeding,” James
complained. “So much for being able to hear the rest of the day.
You know the phone is cordless, you could have walked over and told
him instead of yelling it.” James rubbed his ear again.

“Very funny. What time do you think you’ll be
home?” his mom asked.

James smirked and said, “I should go, as I
can’t hear anymore if you are saying anything. Just sounds like the
ocean in my ears.”

“What do you mean ‘like the ocean’? If you
were deaf, you wouldn’t hear anything, smarty. I thought you
studied the body in school.”

“What?” said James, letting out a little
laugh.

“Don’t be cute.” Her tone was changing
quickly to annoyance.

James decided not to push his luck. “Around
8, but I can help tomorrow with whatever.”

“Good, I have an appointment in the morning
to see the doctor about my stomach; you can watch the kids,” she
said.

***

They said their goodbyes, and James put the
phone back in the locker and left the locker room.

The training session had apparently ended.
The only people on the floor were Sharon and Amber.

Amber was the tall, extremely athletic
instructor. James particularly liked her smile, but usually she was
smiling when kicking some butt, so it meant pain if you saw
it.

Sharon was a bit shorter and an expert at
being accepted into groups quickly. She could get people to talk
and gossip like no other. She herself was a gossip and had a very
sassy manner at times. She also had a true desire to do better in
life. James suspected her desires and ambitions weren’t in line, as
she didn’t stick with too many things very long. Her new thing was
trying to be a better fighter physically because, as she said, “I
can already fight with my mouth.”

“Hey, ladies,” James called out with a
wave.

“Hey,” they chorused back.

“I’m getting better at fighting, James.
You’re going to be next,” Sharon said.

Amber immediately jumped on board. “That’s a
great idea. James, spar her.”

James shrugged and walked over.

Sharon protested. “Now? We just did all that
stuff for, like, an hour. I’m beat and just want to crash.”

“You’d better get ready or you’re going to
get beat,” James shot back, smiling.

“I already have my gloves off,” she said,
holding up her taped hands.

James smiled. “I’m well warned—here we
go.”

Sharon narrowed her eyes and scoffed. James
noted that her right eyelid closed more than her left, meaning she
was left eye dominant. He recalled from earlier interactions that
she was right handed. He plotted a southpaw attack a few moves in
with some quick foot switches, knowing she wouldn’t be able to
respond in time.

Sure enough, within fifteen seconds James was
very gently controlling each strike with ease.

Sharon puffed a little as she said, “This
isn’t fair. I’m tired, and he’s faster and stronger and
better.”

“Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has one
and they all stink,” Amber shrugged.

Sharon rolled her eyes, and Amber went on,
“You think in a fight anyone cares? Deal with it or don’t fight,
but you never know when a fight is coming to you, so you’d better
be ready. Now fight!” Amber was no-nonsense.

Sharon lunged at James, who honestly wasn’t
expecting it. He quickly sidestepped her and delivered an upper cut
to her lower ribs and two jabs to the head. He didn’t hit her hard
and she had on equipment, but she was still enraged. When she came
back in, she was throwing everything she had and in poor form.
James sharply maneuvered her into a bind.

“Don’t swing like you have a hammer in your
hand when you punch.” James released her as he spoke. “Create a
tight fist and hit with these two knuckles.”

He grabbed her hand and balled it into a fist
before pointing to the index and middle knuckles. “When you punch,
do it from the shoulder and have hip rotation in it. The fist is
the delivery, but the punch comes from the shoulder. To move the
shoulder, move the hip.”

Amber nodded.

James and Sharon sparred three more minutes.
He let her get in a lot of body shots, encouraging her to hit him
as hard as she could. There was a lot of be said for actually
learning what it felt like to hit someone. She couldn’t go anymore
after that, but Amber was ready.

With Amber, James was going to have his hands
full. He was skilled, but Amber was a true martial artist. She had
the speed and power to clean his clock, but he also knew that if he
kept the fight in tight, he would eliminate half her offense with
her feet.

They sparred. Amber came out aggressively, as
she always did. James stayed on his feet and moved in semi-circles,
trying to get in, but her feet kept him at bay. They went at it
about ninety seconds. Amber was kicking butt, but James was finally
able to move in as she threw a back leg turning kick. He pulled his
punch, but it landed true as he left blocked her right leg kick.
She went down.

“Oh!” Sharon called as Amber’s leg swept
James.

He stumbled. She didn’t get it off clean, but
it was enough to get him to back off while she got up.

Amber smiled. Quicker than a snap of the
fingers, she was on him and had leg-scissor-kicked him, taking him
down.

Wham!

He hit the floor, where he took a heel kick
to the thigh.

“It was fun to get to use that,” Amber said,
smiling.

“You kicked butt!” Sharon said.

James, still on the ground, rolled his
eyes.

“You fight so well with your hands; you need
to get some legs in there, James,” Amber commented, extending a
hand to pull him off the mat.

“I won’t ever have your legs,” James said,
gaining his feet.

“If you worked at it, maybe you could have my
legs under you faster than you imagine,” Amber said.

James’s eyebrows went up, and Sharon
giggled.

Amber rolled her eyes and said, “Get your
minds out of the gutter, ya pervs,” which just made them laugh
harder.

Tariq walked out of the weight area as she
added, “In a fight, you would take me. I know in sparring you’re
pulling the power instead of giving it to me.”

“Can’t even handle a woman, eh James? Maybe I
should teach you how to really handle women right,” said Tariq with
a smirk.

“You can’t even handle your hair, let alone a
woman. Come back another time, little boy,” Amber shot at him.

He ignored her. “What about it, James?” he
asked.

James looked at him. “You going to teach me
the finer points of punching? I seem to recall us going through
this exercise before and you on the ground.”

“That was bullshit, and you know it. I bet I
can throw a better controlled punch than you. Amber here can be the
judge. What do you say?” Tariq asked with a swagger to his
motions.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A walk-up punch to the nose. The one that
does it fastest without actually hitting the other one wins. The
forward motion will make it harder to control,” Tariq said.

“Oh, that’s so dumb,” Sharon said.

“Okay, you can go first,” James said
quickly.

Sharon threw her hands up dramatically and
sighed. “Men.”

Amber stood to the side as Tariq took about
six steps back.

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