Net Force

She smiled. 'Sapu is a sweep, uses the inside of the foot or leg. It means, literally, ‘broom.' Beset is a drag, using the heel or back of the leg. Step in right side and throw a right punch.'

Rusty nodded, and obeyed. He threw his fist hard, because to do less was to have to do it over again. She double-blocked with her open hands and then stepped in with her right foot just to the outside of his. 'Okay, you see where our feet are? I am outside your attacking foot. We call this luar. Okay, back up and punch again, same way.'

He complied.

This time, she blocked and stepped inside. 'This position is to the inside, or dalam.'

He looked down. 'Luar is outside, dalam is inside. Okay.'

'Right. In silat, there are basically four positions you can assume in relation to an attacker's feet. So I could have either of my feet forward in relation to yours — left or right on the outside, left or right on the inside. If you came in with a left lead, I'd have the same positions available for that foot, too. So, I've got four basic responses no matter which foot you put forward.'

'Okay.'

'Punch again, slow this time. The first technique I'll show you is called beset luar.'

'Which hand?'

'Doesn't matter. What you can do right, you can do left. What you can do inside, you can do outside. What you can do high, you can do low.'

'Sounds like something I should be writing down.'

'Don't worry about it. You'll hear it again. And again. And again. Silat is not about hard and fast techniques. It is about laws and principles. It takes a little longer to learn it this way, but once you do, you'll have something you can use anytime. Obviously I have to show you specifics, but the goal is become a generalise. Punch again, slow.'

He stepped in and threw a lazy straight right fist at her nose.

'Okay, here's the block, from the outside. Then I shove your arm out of the way and around, like so.' She rolled his arm down and across his body to the outside, held onto it just above the elbow with her left hand. 'Now, I step in, right foot, and put it right behind your foot. Straight step, not around, like this.' She showed him the wrong way, then the right way. She exaggerated the step, turning it into a stamp. 'I put my hip against yours, and I cork it inward, just like the djuru stance, do you see? Shoulders and hips square?'

'Yeah.'

'This is my base. Then with my left hand, I pull your arm down and slightly behind me. This is the angle. Humans only have two feet, so no matter how they stand, they are always weak in at least two directions. You're strong right now forward or backward, but if I make a diamond pattern using your feet as the center line, you have no power at ninety degrees.'

'Geometry,' he said, grinning.

'Absolutely. So then I use my right hand up here on your neck. I could have punched or poked, but for now, I just put it there. Elbow down. This is my leverage. So now I've got all three — base, angle and leverage. What happens?'

'I go down?'

'Right. And if I add just a hair of drag with my right foot against your foot, the beset, then you go down a little faster.'

She applied a little pressure, tugged with her foot, and Rusty dropped flat onto his back. He slapped the mat hard. He came up.

'One more time,' she said. 'Slow, so you can see it.'

He punched. She blocked, stepped in, corked her hip against his thigh. 'It's important to get in close, so you can feel your attacker move,' she said. 'In silat, you stick to your attacker. It feels dangerous, especially if you are used to outfighting, but if you know what you're doing, inside is the place to be. Use your eyes for distance, your body in close, so you can sense motion without having to see it. You feel my hip, how it's pressed in there?'

'Oh, yes, ma'am, I surely do feel that.'

She dropped him again. She'd caught the not-so-veiled sexual tone in his voice. She grinned. If he liked that, wait until she stepped inside and showed him the dalam.

Saturday, October 2nd, 12:18 p.m. Quantico

Alex Michaels prowled the hall, too wired to eat. Gridley was working the background on the cane the hitwoman had tried to use against him, and he had people doing seines on the net, following up on the New Orleans VR bank robbery. All the information they could gather was flowing into Net Force, and there wasn't anything he could do to hurry it up. He had a meeting with his top people scheduled for 1:30 p.m., and until then, nothing new to pick at.

He knew Toni usually worked out at noon, and it gave him a place to go, so Michaels headed toward the gym.

When he got there, he saw Toni and the big FBI trainee she had taken on as her student in her martial art. They were standing face-to-face, legs entwined, her waist pressed against his crotch. As Michaels watched, the man reached across Toni's chest, appeared to cup her right breast, then twisted awkwardly and threw her to the practice mat.

Michaels stopped and frowned. For some reason, he felt a stab of irritation.

Toni laughed, rolled up and faced her student again. They moved, he punched, she ducked under his arm and upended him with a move Michaels couldn't quite follow. They both laughed as the feeb trainee came up again. She said something to him, moved in close, pressed her hip against the inside of his thigh.

At this point, the man saw Michaels and said something to Toni. She turned and spotted him standing by the door.

'Hey, Alex.'

Again, that surge of anger filled him. What was this? Toni had the right to teach this yahoo anything she wanted to teach him, it wasn't his business. He knew that. But still, that nagging irritation in Michaels resolved itself all of a second into something he could identify:

He felt jealous.

Bullshit. Come on. Toni was his second in command, that was all. They didn't have any romantic notions about each other. And even if they had, it would be stupid to act on them. He was her boss, and office romances were dangerous.

Certainly if she wanted to spend her lunch hour rubbing up against this feeb bodybuilder, that was her affair.

He shook his head, tried to rid himself of the thought as if it would sling away like water after a shower.

'Alex?'

'Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just passing by, on my way to the cafeteria. I'll see you at the meeting.'

He turned and walked away. Toni's personal life was her own. Period. End of story. He had enough to worry about on his own, thank you.

25

Saturday, October 2nd, 1 p.m. Miami Beach

In the Miami identity, she had established that she was a recreational runner. Even though this was not something she particularly enjoyed, it was part of her cover, so she did it. Here, it was as much a part of her as the fake name and background. Oh, she'd never run a marathon, she'd say if anybody asked, but maybe a 20K someday, when she got into shape…