Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

rolled off her and stood up, lifting her
    to her feet as he did so.
    “Never get taken by surprise,” he said calmly.
    The fear in the young woman‟s face was briefly replaced by a slight
    embarrassment at being caught out, but she looked him in the eye. “Yes, sir.”
    “Now gather round.” The room was small and completely empty of furniture.
    During this class, Kael would talk for long periods, making his people stand to test
    their stamina. They drew close.
    His body completely still, his face a mask of indifference, Kael‟s hand shot out,
    grabbing the largest of the men around the back of the neck. The man lost his
    balance easily as Kael kicked his feet out from under him, tossing him to the
    ground. He was winded but responded at once by twisting his body to grab Kael by
    the ankles, attempting to pull him to the ground. Carefully, so as not to do too much
    damage but again determined to make his point, Kael centered his weight on one
    leg and kicked. His black leather shoe made contact with the man‟s jaw. Blood
    poured from his torn lower lip, and he cried out in pain, releasing his tentative grip
    on Kael‟s ankle.
    “What did I just tell you? Never be taken by surprise.”
    Just for a moment, Kael saw resentment in his expression before the man
    pulled the hem of his shirt from his pants to sop up the blood. The man took a deep
    breath. “Yes, sir.”
    Very nervous, their collective stance defensive, the group stood assessing him.
    Their eyes darted to the position of his hands, watching his body language, ready
    for any twitch of movement. A slow smile crossed his face. “I see I have made my
    point. Are you all on alert?”
    “Yes, sir.” A couple of them actually grinned now.
    “What kind of torture do you think you may be subjected to if you were caught
    on a job?”
    “Waterboarding?” one woman said.
    Kael nodded and began to list the forms of coercion that could be used against
    them. To their credit and to the credit of their training, they did not flinch as he
    went into the details of electric shocks, drowning, hanging by individual limbs, and
    the fact that they would be experiencing these techniques personally over the next
    few weeks. He walked up and down as he spoke, but ordered them to stand to
    attention.
    A tap on the door drew his gaze, and when it opened and Dragana walked in,
    he was surprised and pleased to see her. She hadn‟t lost any of the weight she had
    promised herself she would lose, but Angel would definitely tell him it was not
    polite to mention it. Dragana had been invaluable when assisting him in rescuing

    14
    Fyn Alexander

    Angel from his Bosnian captors last September. In a couple of strides, he crossed
    the room and took her into a warm embrace. His students eyed each other at this
    uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Mr. Saunders actually felt warmly toward
    someone? He stepped outside the room with her, closing the door.
    “How‟s your foot?”
    She looked up at him, her dark eyes crinkled into a fond smile, and she spoke
    in heavily accented English. “Not bad when I remember I took a bullet last
    September. How is your young man?”
    “He‟s good. We‟ve settled into, er…domesticity.” His cheeks flushed slightly at
    the very thought that he had become a family man, even if his family did consist of
    just him and Angel.
    She nodded her approval. “I am on desk job now, language analyst and
    teacher. I‟m not going back to the field, not even to pretend to be a char lady and
    plant listening devices,” she said, acknowledging how they‟d met. “But Kael, the
    reason I came to see you is I was in Mr. Conran‟s office about my new job, and he
    say to tell you to go and see him when your class is finished.”
    “What does he want?”
    Dragana shrugged. “I had better let you go back to work.” Kael watched her
    walk down the corridor, her limp pronounced. When he entered the classroom
    again, his students fell into a respectful silence, but every one of them was ready for
    him. They were a good group; they should do well.
    “Do any of you practice meditation? It‟s a good thing to know to keep the mind
    orderly in cases of prolonged isolation.”

    * * *
    It was half past five by the time Kael walked into Stephen Conran‟s office.

    “What do you want? I‟m going home,” he said. Even after six months of living with
    his lovely boy, he was still amazed at his passion, not only for Angel, but for the life
    they were sharing.