"Hey, new girl," Jake called out, his voice booming over the ambient noise of the gym. Several heads turned. "Looks like you're with me."
Emma looked up, her expression unchanging. She didn't flinch, didn't widen her eyes, and didn't sigh. She simply nodded, picked up her mouthpiece, and stepped onto the mat.
Jake smirked. He turned to his buddy, a corporal named Davis, and gave a subtle wink. The implication was clear: this was going to be a quick, embarrassing lesson. Jake intended to swarm her, push her to the edge of the ring, and force a quick submission. It was what he always did with newcomers. He broke them early so they wouldn't get any ideas later.
Chapter 3: The Observers
The gym had a funny way of sensing when a mismatch was about to happen. While other pairs began their drills, a quiet circle began to form around Jake and Emma’s mat. Soldiers slowed their own sparring, throwing glances over their shoulders.
Instructor Harris stood by the wall, arms crossed. He had read Emma’s file. He knew what those redacted lines meant, even if he didn't know the specifics. He also knew Jake Mercer was a bully who relied too much on forward momentum. Harris didn't intervene. Sometimes, the best way to teach a lesson was to let a soldier run headfirst into a brick wall.
"Alright, let's keep it clean," Harris barked from the sidelines. "Standard engagement rules. Tap if you need to, Mercer."
A few of the men chuckled at the joke. Jake grinned, rolling his broad shoulders. "Don't worry, staff sergeant. I'll take it easy on her."
Emma stood in her corner. She didn't bounce on her toes. She didn't shake out her arms. She stood perfectly still, her feet shoulder-width apart, her breathing slow and measured. To the untrained eye, she looked terrified, frozen in place. To the veteran eye of Instructor Harris, she looked anchored.
Chapter 4: The Call Out
"You ready?" Jake asked, stepping into the center of the mat. He didn't bother getting into a proper stance, leaving his hands lazily near his waist.
Emma stepped forward, raising her hands into a tight, orthodox guard. "Ready." Her voice was soft, barely carrying over the hum of the ventilation system.