It was another dreary Thursday morning; Carson got to sleep in, all the
others were ushered out into the coalfield, armed with picks. Eric was
escorted personally by a Black Hand guard out past the field, to a large
disused barn; he opened the door, and to Eric's surprise, he found mats,
bags, treadmills, Stairmasters, bench presses, weight sets, and in the
middle, a giant boxing ring.
They pushed their way past several recruits in black jumpsuits doing pushups, punching drills, wrestling, or whatever. He couldn't see the loft, for it was enclosed by a long wooden fence-like wall.
"Park it here, meat," said the foreman, seated on a stool in the ring
Eric climbed into the ring, and stepped over to the foreman "Lesson 1," he said in a wizened oriental sounding tone
"What?" asked the foreman; they were both still in work clothes
"Throw us some gloves," Eric said to a drill sergeant, who was overseeing tome recruits
He looked angrily back at them; his order barking had been interrupted; but he bent down over a footlocker, and threw them 2 pairs of gloves.
"Uhh…" said Eric "Thanks… I think…"
"You gonna teach me ju-jitsu, or what?" snapped the foreman
"Kenpo Karate," he corrected, fastening his gloves
"Whatever"
"First, you need to know the Kenpo fighting stance… on second thought, show me yours" said Eric
The foreman stuck both his fists up by his perpetual scowl
"Ha!" said Eric. He performed a spinning sidekick, and with a great deal of effort and control, stopped it just before it smashed into the foreman's solar plexus. "That's weak. NOW let me show you the Kenpo stance"
Eric drew his feet out into the long, well set stance, one hand guarding his torso, which was turned in sync with his feet, the other, a respectable distance from his face, not in a fist, but fingers still cautiously coiled around his palm.
After several minutes of looking back and forth, the foreman followed in suit.
"Now you're getting it,"
The room was on the 3rd floor of one of the few buildings left standing that high in Waco, TX. The room was dark, and boarded off; a GDI sniper hung out the window and picked off a NOD patrol; he was lying on top of his buggy, basking in the afternoon Texas sun, apparently asleep… for good, now.
Cpt. Masterson was gathered around a table with high-ranking soldiers; as he had only 1 officer left: Lt. Barney Kapp, who was standing over Masterson's shoulder. For a while, there was silence.
"Shouldn't we be coming up with new strategery?" asked 1 soldier
Author's Note: "Strategery" was the word President Bush chose to wrap up his presidential debate (Al Gore's was "Lock-Box") on Saturday Night Live
"What's there to strategize?" asked Masterson "We've got little more than a dozen men against about 800 NOD troops; ain't no strategy to get us out of this one!"
Silence once more
"Sir," said Barney "Look," he pointed to a phone, half covered in plaster from a hole in the ceiling
"Think it still works?" asked Masterson, leaning back in his chair
"Only 1 way to find out," said Barney, strutting over to the phone. He pulled it out from under the rubble. He picked it up. Bingo; Dial tone. His large, calloused, nervous fingers dialed the number he had seen written on the cover a leather day-planner in Masterson's office
"Please state your business," started a male receptionist
"Umm," said Barney, guessing they were military "Can I speak to your commander?"
"Hold please"
…Silence…
"Lt. Colonel Doug MacPherson, Limbo squadron, New Orleans, can I help you?"
"You, uh, know Captain Roy Masterson?" posed Barney
"CAPTAIN Masterson?" he asked "Izze there? Put the sonuvabitch on!"
"Hello?" said Masterson, taking the phone from Barney
"Masterson," he said "It's Lt. Colonel MacPherson!"
"Sir?" asked Masterson "Our boys in Beta squadron, Waco, could use a wee bit of support… that it to say… reinforcements…" he began to explain
"Loyalty, Fidelity, Honor, Courage, Justice"
-The Hwarang Code
They pushed their way past several recruits in black jumpsuits doing pushups, punching drills, wrestling, or whatever. He couldn't see the loft, for it was enclosed by a long wooden fence-like wall.
"Park it here, meat," said the foreman, seated on a stool in the ring
Eric climbed into the ring, and stepped over to the foreman "Lesson 1," he said in a wizened oriental sounding tone
"What?" asked the foreman; they were both still in work clothes
"Throw us some gloves," Eric said to a drill sergeant, who was overseeing tome recruits
He looked angrily back at them; his order barking had been interrupted; but he bent down over a footlocker, and threw them 2 pairs of gloves.
"Uhh…" said Eric "Thanks… I think…"
"You gonna teach me ju-jitsu, or what?" snapped the foreman
"Kenpo Karate," he corrected, fastening his gloves
"Whatever"
"First, you need to know the Kenpo fighting stance… on second thought, show me yours" said Eric
The foreman stuck both his fists up by his perpetual scowl
"Ha!" said Eric. He performed a spinning sidekick, and with a great deal of effort and control, stopped it just before it smashed into the foreman's solar plexus. "That's weak. NOW let me show you the Kenpo stance"
Eric drew his feet out into the long, well set stance, one hand guarding his torso, which was turned in sync with his feet, the other, a respectable distance from his face, not in a fist, but fingers still cautiously coiled around his palm.
After several minutes of looking back and forth, the foreman followed in suit.
"Now you're getting it,"
The room was on the 3rd floor of one of the few buildings left standing that high in Waco, TX. The room was dark, and boarded off; a GDI sniper hung out the window and picked off a NOD patrol; he was lying on top of his buggy, basking in the afternoon Texas sun, apparently asleep… for good, now.
Cpt. Masterson was gathered around a table with high-ranking soldiers; as he had only 1 officer left: Lt. Barney Kapp, who was standing over Masterson's shoulder. For a while, there was silence.
"Shouldn't we be coming up with new strategery?" asked 1 soldier
Author's Note: "Strategery" was the word President Bush chose to wrap up his presidential debate (Al Gore's was "Lock-Box") on Saturday Night Live
"What's there to strategize?" asked Masterson "We've got little more than a dozen men against about 800 NOD troops; ain't no strategy to get us out of this one!"
Silence once more
"Sir," said Barney "Look," he pointed to a phone, half covered in plaster from a hole in the ceiling
"Think it still works?" asked Masterson, leaning back in his chair
"Only 1 way to find out," said Barney, strutting over to the phone. He pulled it out from under the rubble. He picked it up. Bingo; Dial tone. His large, calloused, nervous fingers dialed the number he had seen written on the cover a leather day-planner in Masterson's office
"Please state your business," started a male receptionist
"Umm," said Barney, guessing they were military "Can I speak to your commander?"
"Hold please"
…Silence…
"Lt. Colonel Doug MacPherson, Limbo squadron, New Orleans, can I help you?"
"You, uh, know Captain Roy Masterson?" posed Barney
"CAPTAIN Masterson?" he asked "Izze there? Put the sonuvabitch on!"
"Hello?" said Masterson, taking the phone from Barney
"Masterson," he said "It's Lt. Colonel MacPherson!"
"Sir?" asked Masterson "Our boys in Beta squadron, Waco, could use a wee bit of support… that it to say… reinforcements…" he began to explain
"Loyalty, Fidelity, Honor, Courage, Justice"
-The Hwarang Code