Justine Davis - Operation Alpha

He doubted Foxworth would appreciate getting sued by some irate parent over the bruising of their not-so-little boy. Unless, of course, Alan started it. In front of multiple witnesses.

“Most bullies are more scared than anything,” he said, keeping Alan’s reflection in the line of his peripheral vision as he stepped onto the mat. “Except for maybe that clueless thing.”

Again, laughter. Liam could almost feel the big kid’s rage.

“Go ahead, give it a shot,” he said, without turning.

Alan stopped dead. Liam shoved his hands into his jeans’ front pockets. Stood casually, as if he were completely unaware. “You’ve got the drop on me, right? From behind. And you’re a big guy. No way you can lose.”

“It’s a trap,” Alan muttered.

So he was smarter than he looked, Liam thought. “Just a demonstration,” he said. “I need a tough guy.”

Alan smiled at that; Liam could see it in the mirror. But still Alan hesitated. Then somebody in the group muttered audibly, “Coward.” He felt more than saw Alan stiffen.

“Come on,” he urged. “No repercussions.”

He felt the moment when the boy decided, egged on by that derisive comment, heard the movement when he took that first step. And then he was charging, energized perhaps by the free rein given.

At the last second Liam dodged, spun and swept his right foot into Alan’s path, carefully avoiding the knees, where he could do some real damage. The boy went down, hitting the soft mat with a thud that seemed to echo off the walls. And Liam had never taken his hands out of his pockets.

The cheer that went up told him how weary the others were of this particular bully. But he also knew the dangers of provoking one and the likelihood Alan would take out his fury and embarrassment on the first smaller, weaker prey he could find. So Liam grinned and held out a hand to Alan.

“Great job, Alan. Thanks for being a good sport about it. Oh, and for not taking my head off.”

The implication that he could have if he’d wanted to seemed to mollify the boy. Liam watched him make the decision to play along. He let Liam give him the hand up.

“If you can’t take out the best, what good are you?” Alan said.

Bluster, Liam thought. But he only nodded. If he was really here to teach, it might be interesting to find out what was behind the bully facade. But right now he’d served a purpose. Every other kid in that gym was on Liam’s side now.

* * *

Liam almost had the mat rolled up for stowing under the bleachers along the side wall when he sensed the approach. Instead of looking behind him, he looked at Cutter, who was on his feet, tail wagging. Trusting the dog’s instincts, he finished the job before straightening up and turning around.

Dylan.

“Hey,” Liam said casually.

The boy nodded. “That was great. I liked the sound of the Krav Maga stuff.”

Liam smiled. “It’s effective. Designed for one purpose—street survival.”

“Neutralize the threat, you said.”

He nodded. “By whatever means necessary.”

Dylan nodded. And as if it were a signal, Cutter walked up to him, tail still wagging, ears up. The boy’s smile widened. He reached out to stroke the dog’s head. The tail wagged faster.

“I was watching him. He didn’t like Alan much.”

“He’s a very good judge of people.”

Dylan didn’t miss the implication, that Cutter clearly liked him as much as he’d disliked Alan. The boy looked pleased, which told Liam a lot.

“You want to talk about which way you want to go?” Liam asked.

Dylan shook his head. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here now. I have to get home. I’m stuck with watching my little brother, so I have to go get him.”

“I hated that, being the built-in babysitter,” Liam said.

Dylan’s gaze shot to his face. “Yeah. Sucks.”

There was something else there, Liam thought. Something deeper than just not liking being a babysitter. He glanced at Cutter, who was leaning into the boy, giving him the full-on Cutter stamp of approval. The boy continued petting the dog, smiling in a way that, for the moment at least, seemed to erase the shadows.

“You got some other time you could free up?” Liam asked. “I’m flexible.”

He saw something else flash in the boy’s eyes. Surprise? Even eagerness?

“Really? I mean, I have an hour-and-a-half break at eleven, between trig and English on Tuesday and Thursday.”

Liam had already known this from Ria; it was part of the plan, and why he’d made the suggestion. It would give them time without other kids around.

“All right. We’ll do your one-on-one session then. I’ll see if the gym’s available, or we’ll need to find someplace else.”

“Thanks,” Dylan said. “A lot.”

“No problem. We’ll take our time, until you decide what you want to pursue.”

“How about we go straight to Krav Maga?”

“If that’s what you want, I know a guy. I’ll hook you up. But you won’t be any good at it unless you can master the mental part first. It’s harder than you might think to really believe in no holds barred and no quarter given. It’s not the way most people think, if they’re not living in a war zone.”

“Those guys are serious,” Dylan said.

“They have to be. For them it’s survival. But for you, it’s all about control. Of the other guy, sure, but of you first. It has to be instinctive, second nature.”

“Like you did with Alan?”

Liam’s mouth quirked upward. “Nah. I was mainly focused on not really hurting him. Didn’t want to get sued by angry parents.”

“You’d have everybody there on your side, testifying that he jumped you.”

“They did seem to enjoy seeing him on his back,” Liam said with a grin.

Dylan smiled, and it was the most genuine one Liam had seen from him, except for when he was looking at Cutter. Which he did again now.

“Will you bring him?”

“If you want.”

“Yeah. He’s a great dog.”

“See you tomorrow, then?”

Dylan nodded, not even trying to hide his eagerness now. And when he left, even his steps seemed lighter.

“Thanks, buddy,” Liam said softly to Cutter as he watched the boy go. “We’re in the door now, at least.”

He reached out to scratch behind the dog’s right ear, in that spot he liked. The feathery tail began to wag again. And it was a moment before Liam realized it wasn’t simply the touch he was happy about. Someone was once more coming up behind him. And this one was a bigger threat than Alan had ever thought about being. To Liam, anyway.

Ria.

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