12. Assessment (The Ki Factor)

Saturday, June 22nd, 11:22 AM, Eastgate time
Saturday, June 22nd, 7:22 PM, Cairo time
111th Fighter Wing
COTQ Building 1
Quarters 1-D
-22 Days
"There...I think I've finally put together something we can work a direction from," Mark smiled as he saved the document he had been working on all morning and clicked on the "print" icon. A knock came from the door as a sheet of paper began to emerge from the side of his laptop. He rose from the small desk and went to the door, opening it. "Hey, Craig," he said, walking to the small kitchenette and retrieving a coffee cup as Craig closed the door behind him.

Craig picked the paper up from the table, looking at it. "Got the training schedule finished?"

"Well, at least a foundation for a timeline," said Mark, pouring a cup of coffee from the counter in the kitchenette. "I can work up something more detailed after I question Kimi a bit on what she knows."

"Speaking of the 'Cygnet'," Craig said, pouring his own coffee, "shouldn't she be about ready for a wake-up call?"

Mark looked at his watch as he walked back to the table. "Yeah...about that time. Did you reserve the exercise floor for the afternoon?"

"Yep," nodded Craig, " from 1400 to 1800...and I've contacted the list you gave me...I have to pick up a couple of them, but 14 out of 20 will be there with impact suits, ready to go."

"This is going to be interesting for Ki," Mark said, picking up the phone from the table. "She's never gone full contact against an opponent. Oh, did you talk to Dan about the speed test room and time on the range?"

"All set up," Craig replied. "Once Kimi is processed, she'll have free access to both."

Mark patted Craig on the shoulder. "Good man," he smiled as he then dialed the phone. "Just like I told Ki...I've always had good people on my team."

11:30 AM.
Quarters 2-G
Kimi slowly rolled her head on the pillow to face the small table next to the bed, looking for the source of the tone that had wakened her. She groped along the table through half-open eyes, nudging the small gray phone with a finger and pulling it into her grasp, then to her ear as she propped up on her elbow. "Hello?"

"Wake-up call," said Mark, smiling. "Sleep good? I guess you needed a nap."

"Hi, Cap'n Mark," Kimi said, rising to a sitting position. "Yeah...I don't remember much after we got to the room..."

"Heh," Mark smirked, "that's because you weren't there long. You were asleep by the time I got out of the restroom. You must have been out before you hit the pillow."

Kimi cradled the phone against her shoulder and brought her arms out into a wide stretch. "Yeah," she said. "Between getting up at 3 AM, and the helicopter ride, and then the guy in the hall who tried to grab my bag...by the time I sat on the bed...it was all about Z's."

"I hear you," Mark chuckled softly. "I'd have wanted a nap, too. I took you at your word when you said you didn't need a lot of time to get ready to go...I let you sleep an extra half-hour."

"Thanks, Cap'n Mark," Kimi said as she rose from the bed, crossing to pick up her suitcase from the chair and drop it onto the bed, then flipping the clasps to open it. "Some clean clothes," she said, picking out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, "a quick shower and it's all about I'm ready."

Mark chuckled again, remembering his advice about the tradition of women making men wait when getting ready. "Good thing it's not the senior prom, huh?" He laughed as Kimi admonished him. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I'm still on Cairo time, and I'm ready for supper...you up to a little dinner before we get your ID card?"

"I'll just have a salad," Kimi said. "I don't want a full stomach if I'm going to be sparring with anybody...but afterward...it's all about Knick Knack Chick Shack Chick'n Bitz Blitz."

Mark laughed softly. "So you can be down here, ready to go by, say...12:05?"

"What time is it now?"

"About 11:35."

"A half-hour?" Kimi asked, a note of sarcasm to her voice. "Are you making me...wait, Cap'n Mark??"

She finished with a snicker which became a full laugh as Mark acquiesced. "Okay," he chuckled, "I retract the senior prom comment."

"So...all about noon, then?"

"Done. Oh...there's a gym bag in your closet...put some workout clothes in it when you come down. Did you bring your Escrima sticks, by any chance?"

"Sure did."

"Okay, bring those along, too. See you then, Ki. Just knock on the door. Craig is here too, but he's just leaving...while we're out, he'll be making final preparations for things in the gym this afternoon."

"Bye 'til noon, Cap'n Mark," Kim said, hanging up the phone and tossing her clean clothes onto the bed as she went into the restroom, slipping out of her shirt and reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

11:59 AM.
A knock on the door prompted Mark from his small desk where he was going over a bit of paperwork. He walked to the door and opened it to see Kimi with the gym bag slung over her shoulder, her pair of sapphire-blue Escrima sticks protruding about six inches from the top of one end. "Hi there, Ki," he said, smiling, "I see I can count on your word when it comes to on in."

"Well, it's not like I was rushed," Kimi smirked as she walked through the door into the living room. "It was all about a shower...clean clothes...workout clothes, shoes and sticks in the bag--" she held the dark blue duffle from her body, moving the tip of a finger over the base insignia patch on the side "--'nekkin' bag, by the way...then I had about ten minutes before I came down here."

"I'm glad you like the bag," said Mark as he finished zipping the bag for his laptop. "I know you probably have your own workout bag, but that one is yours if you want it."

"Thanks," Kimi smiled, sliding her fingers along the side of the gym bag, then curling them around the strap.

Mark gathered the strap for his laptop case, putting it over his shoulder, then moved to a large cushioned chair, grabbing the handle of his gym bag, much the same as Kimi's, but with a patch added to the left of the insignia, containing the initials "MB." He then put his hand on the still-open door, looking back at Kimi, who was still near the couch. "Ready?" he said.

"All about lead the way," replied Kimi, walking through the door as Mark followed her, passing his key card through the slot, prompting a small "click" from the door, and they both started down the hall.

They went outside to the street and got in the Jeep, which Mark had traded for Craig's after arriving at the quarters. Mark put their bags into the back compartment and secured them with the key, then climbed into his seat and started the Jeep. They went back up the road past the gym, and on to the commissary. On the way, Mark instructed Kimi on the procedure in the commissary "food line." Kimi remarked how it sounded much like the lunch line in school - food in stainless steel containers behind a clear plastic "sneeze shield," and servants who would scoop your request onto a plate as the line trudged along.

12:19 PM.
Kimi had picked out a small salad for lunch as she had said she would, with a packet of French dressing and an iced tea. Mark went with sliced ham with mashed potatoes, a small dish of succotash - whole kernel corn and lima beans - and coffee. Mark presented his ID card to the cashier and charged both the meals, then they took a booth-style table a short distance away, and sat to eat. Kimi drizzled drops of dressing across her salad and sank her fork into a slice of cucumber while Mark unceremoniously held his ham with a fork, dragging a knife through it to cut it into strips about an inch wide. He then stabbed one end of a strip with his fork and folded it, spearing the other end - and slipped it through his mashed potatoes.

Kimi took note of Mark's eating style and gave a small giggle. "I think I now know why the eating area in the military is called the 'mess hall'."

Mark started to laugh, and nearly choked on his bite of food at this. He coughed slightly, and reached to sip at his coffee. "In the lower ranks, you only get a short time to eat," he said. "You try to eat enough to be nourished in that time." He then snickered, looking down at his plate and preparing another bite of ham. "I guess the 'mess' part just kind of stays with you." Kimi gave Mark a peculiar look - then glanced around at other tables, where both officers and enlisted men were seated and eating. As Mark had explained, they too were wolfing down their meals.

Kimi looked back to Mark, and she unconsciously reacted to what she had seen by holding her fork a bit more daintily. Her little finger lifted from the utensil as she brought a forkful of lettuce to her mouth, which caused Mark to snicker a bit through a smile.

Kimi tried to change the subject. "Speaking of meals, Cap'n Mark," she quizzed, "you asked on the phone if I was up to a little dinner..." Mark nodded, his mouth full. Kimi tipped her fork, pointing at her salad bowl. "Umm...I know you're still all about on 'Cairo time,' but...wouldn't this be lunch to me?"

Mark swallowed his food and took another sip of coffee. "That's what I said...dinner."

"But...dinner is another word for supper," Kimi said. "This is lunch..."

Mark smiled. "In the military, it's dinner."

"Dinner is an evening meal."

"Nope...it's breakfast, dinner and supper."

Kimi's expression slipped into a sly grin. "Oookaaay...it's noon...so you're having 'dinner'...but since your stomach is still on 'Cairo time,' it's technically 'supper'..." she tipped her head slightly at Mark's plate "...so what would you call that?"

Mark sank his fork into another strip of meat, slid it across his potatoes, and brought it near his mouth. "This...I would call 'ham and potatoes'," he smirked, sliding the fork into his mouth and chewing through a rather triumphant grin.

Kimi gave a short, quiet "urgh" of frustration at the confusion of terms and stabbed at her salad, her brow lowered as Mark chuckled a little. "So how's your lunch," she asked, a slight mock-snippiness to her voice.

"Good," replied Mark. "The closest thing I can get to ham in Egypt is goat meat...not quite the same. How's your salad?"

"The lettuce and veggage is good," she said, pushing her fork into a slice of red radish, "but the dressing is..."

"Different?" Mark offered.

Kimi turned over the empty packet of dressing, reading a bit of the ingredient list from the back label. "...mustard...pepper...garlic...all the right stuff is in it...but it's all about..." she paused, searching for a fitting word.

"...blandish?"

Kimi nodded slowly in agreement.

"Welcome to military food," Mark said in a consoling tone. "Only thing worse is K-rations."

Kimi found another slice of cucumber. "I think I know another reason why everyone in the military eats so fast...it's all about eat it quick, before the taste catches up."

Mark burst into quick laughter, accompanied by a couple of men at the next table who overheard Kimi's comment.

12:58 PM.
Kimi and Mark left the commissary and went again to the Jeep, driving nearly to the other side of the base to Building 16 - Identification and Processing. Before leaving the Jeep, Kimi asked to be let into the compartment in back, where she retrieved a small hairbrush from her gym bag. "It's all about catch my good side," she said, grinning as they walked up the stairs to the door.

They walked down a short hallway and into a room where Mark had Kimi sit at a table, filling out a form. After a couple of minutes, Mark motioned Kimi to follow and took the form to the counter, handing it to a sergeant who began to enter the information at a computer terminal, and they then sat in a row of chairs for about ten minutes until the sergeant stepped to the counter. "Kimmy Hodge," he called out.

"That's 'Keemie'," Kimi said as she stood, approaching the counter. The sergeant showed Kimi to a chair at the far end of the counter, in front of a large camera.

The sergeant reached past Kimi and pulled down a dark fabric backdrop behind her chair. "Would you like a mirror?" he asked, "Or are you ready?"

"Just a quick look," Kimi replied, reaching in her back pocket for her hairbrush. She swung her head to the left, her bangs in a flourish as the sergeant retrieved a small hand mirror from the counter and passed it to her. She swept the brush across her bangs, moving them to the side, and touched a couple of places along the top of her hair, patting along it lightly with her palm. Kimi then nodded to the sergeant.

The sergeant moved behind the camera. "Look at the red dot above the lens," he said, in a voice that implied he uttered that exact phrase several dozen times a day. Kimi straightened in the chair, putting on her best "This is me - posing" smile, and the sergeant tapped a button. The flash brightened the room for a split second, causing Kimi to blink a few times. The sergeant then tapped a few keys on a keypad next to the camera. "Your card should be ready in about ten minutes," he said.

Kimi and Mark went back to the chairs to wait. After a few minutes, the sergeant called Kimi to the counter. "Here you go," he said, handing her the card, "You're now official."

Kimi looked at her image on the card and made a sour face. "Ugh...it's all about black and white...you can't see the color in my hair or my eyes."

Mark looked over her shoulder at the picture. "It's not meant to be a glamour shot," he said. "It's for identification only...but now, with that card, you have access to nearly every building on the base." He then thanked the sergeant and motioned to the door. "Now...let's set you up with a little spending money."

"Umm, Cap'n Mark?" Kimi asked as they returned to the hallway, "...why will I need money? Won't you be like, keeping an eye on me?"

"Everybody needs 'me time', or time away from what they're working on now and then, so they don't get burned out," Mark replied. "You might want to head over to the BX one day for a shirt or new socks...maybe you'll want some snacks to keep at your quarters...or you might want a quiet meal alone...there's even a youth club near the officer's club, if you want to spend some time there in the evenings. And, there will be times that I won't be right there. I've tried to clear my schedule as much as possible to come back here to the States and train you...but there are still ongoing cases back in Cairo that I'll have to oversee and get updates on. The expense card will give you that little bit of independance during the times that I'm not around. Besides," he smirked, "you'd get tired of seeing my face all day long."

"It...won't be, like, a large amount of money, will it?"

"I'll make sure it'll be enough so that you can get anything you need or might want." said Mark.

Kimi smirked at this. "You've...never had a teenage daughter, have you Cap'n Mark?" she quipped.

"That sounds like a warning," Mark chuckled, "...buuut, something tells me I can trust you to be sensible..."

Kimi's face spread into a wide sly grin. "Now who's all about warning?"

Mark burst out laughing as they steped through a door a bit down the hallway - "Processing and Finance." Kimi sat in a chair while Mark went to the counter and filled out a form and handed it to the sergeant on duty. Mark produced his ID card, then called Kimi to the counter, where she showed her card. An amount was charged into an account for Kimi's use. "When you want to buy something on base, just present your ID to a cashier to charge against the account," the sergeant said.

"Thanks," Kimi smiled at the sergeant, "and thank you, Cap'n Mark...umm...how do I know how much is in the account?"

Mark smirked. "You don't...like you said, I've never had a teenage daughter...but I've got friends who have and do." Kimi shot Mark a "and you said you can trust me??" look. "As far as anything you think might come in handy when it's time to go to Cairo," Mark continued, "you have unlimited funds. Other things? Well...just don't pick out any gold watches, or try to treat the youth club to pizza, and you'll be fine."

"You can trust me, Cap'n Mark," Kimi beamed. "I don't like gold, anyway." Mark gave Kimi a hesitant expression, as if he were waiting for her to finish. That finish came with a wrinkled-nose smile. "It's all about silver goes with my eyes," she giggled.

Mark glanced at his watch. "Come on, Silver Girl," he smirked as he held the door open for her to step down to the street, "time to head to the gym."

They went to the Jeep and started for the gym. As they turned onto the street to the gym, Kimi turned to Mark. "Umm, Cap'n Mark?" she asked, "I've been wanting to ask you...these assessments...they'll be against human opponents...?"

"Yep," Mark replied. "There are machines to gauge power and speed...you'll see that tomorrow, when we go to the Speed room...but there is no way I know of to find out how someone thinks under a real situation, other than against a human opponent."

"Okay," Kimi said with a small expression of relief, "so it's all about light contact...I was wondering--"

"Nope," Mark interjected, "this will all be full contact."

Kimi's brow furrowed slightly at this. "Umm...isn't there a chance of someone getting hurt?"

Mark turned the Jeep into a parking slot in front of the gym. "Nope...I'll show you when we get inside," he said as he stepped out, moving to unlock the rear compartment. Kimi climbed out of the Jeep as Mark retrieved the gym bags and laptop case, and they walked up the stairs to the entrance of the gym.

1:44 PM.
Kimi and Mark walked into the gym, making their way past the workout machines to the large exercise floor. Kimi looked at several of the people on the weight machines, some "pumping iron" alone on the machines with attached weights; others working with spotters on incline benches with the "free" weights. Most of them were rather muscular, and gave the impression to Kimi that physical fitness was a prime requirement of military life.

Craig was moving a cart carrying a folding table and chairs along the edge of the matted exercise floor, stopping at the center of the near side, He unloaded the table and had unfolded two of the legs when he turned to greet the two. "Hi there," he said, turning the table onto another side and unfolding a third leg.

"Hi Craig," Kimi returned as both she and Mark took a chair from the cart, unfolded it, and set it near the table as Craig unfolded the last leg and set the table upright just off the edge of the mat.

Mark placed his laptop case on the table. "Did you catch any dinner?" he asked Craig. "I didn't see you at the BX."

"I went there straight from the quarters," said Craig. "I grabbed a walkaway, then came over here, req'd the table and chairs, and made a few calls to set up transport for a few of the others. The rest of the time I've been picking up people and coordinating everything."

Kimi gave a puzzled look. "...walkaway...?"

"It's more of a breakfast thing," Mark said as he sat at one of the chairs, placed his gym bag on the floor next to the table and opened his laptop case, sliding the computer out of it, "but you can order it all day. It's a fried egg, a thin slice of ham and a slice of cheese, all on an English muffin. It's good."

"Why is it called a 'walkaway' though?"

"Because it's a meal you can either sit down and eat, or just walk away and eat from your hand."

"It's all about Egg McMuffin," Kimi giggled as she took the other chair, sitting to the right of Mark and setting her gym bag on the table. "The military is almost like, another country...different names for everything," she said as Craig brought a third chair from the cart, setting it to the left of Mark and sitting on it. Kimi watched as Mark reached down and flipped up a small plate on the floor, revealing a bank of connectors. He then opened a small panel on the side of his laptop, pulling out a cord with a connector harness on the end, which he plugged into the receptacle in the floor.

Kimi then turned her attention to the exercise floor. A small group of people were winding up a low-impact aerobics session at a far corner, doing "cooldown" exercises - sitting on the floor, their legs spread and outstretched, arcing their arms over their head and down toward one leg - then returning upright and repeating for the other leg.

Kimi turned back to the table as Mark had turned on his laptop, inputting some commands, and then pulled a small microphone and ear clip from the case and plugged it into the laptop. He slid his finger over a small touchpad below the keyboard and clicked a button. Kimi jumped slightly as a "pop" came though several speakers mounted on the ceiling at the perimeter of the exercise floor. Mark blew into the microphone, tapping keys to adjust the volume, then set it on the table.

Mark then turned to Kimi. "Almost ready here," he said. "You probably want to change into workout clothes and do a bit of stretching before things get started...I'll be briefing the rest of the people in the meantime."

At that moment, Craig rose from his chair. "There they are," he said, waving across the exercise floor to the table.

Kimi had taken the strap of her gym bag and was rising from her chair - until the sight across the floor slowly sank her back into it. From the hallway leading to the locker rooms she saw several figures emerge, walking across the mat toward the table, fourteen in all. They were covered from head to foot in what appeared to be a fabric, light grey in color, with just the hint of a sheen to it. Some of the figures' faces were visible, suggesting to Kimi that this area of their uniforms were removeable.

Mark rose as a couple of the grey-clad figures approached the table. He turned back, placing his arm around a figure and motioning Kimi to stand. "Ki...this is the latest in training technology," he said. "It's the Keaton Impact Suit System - KISS for short." The figure standing next to Mark then pressed a series of points on the forehead of the suit, holding his other hand just under his head and the patch of fabric covering his face seemed to melt away, falling into his hand. He handed the patch to Mark, who then passed it to Kimi. "The entire suit is made of a cotton base material, interwoven with threads of Kevlar...and an energy-absorbing substance called 'Keatonite'."

Kimi rubbed the fabric between her fingers, noting that it was fairly flexible. "It feels like a heavy t-shirt," she said.

"That's about it," Mark said, "it breathes like cotton, too. But with the other materials added in, it will withstand anything up to small-arms fire." Kimi handed the patch back to the man, who put it back in place, pressing the same places along his forehead. After he had made sure the patch was on securely, he turned to walk back to the rest of the group, which Craig had directed into a small formation a few feet away.

Kimi watched the man as he walked, noting how closely the fabric hugged his body. She was distracted by Mark. "Go suit up, Ki," he said. "I'll get some info from the others and brief them on what we want to do in the next few weeks...then you can stretch when you come out."

Kimi let her gaze linger on Mark just a second longer than she wanted to, as if she were trying to signal a growing aprehension to him. She let her hand fall to the handle of her gym bag, and she slid it off the table into her grip as she started for the locker room.

1:57 PM.
Kimi walked out of the hallway from the locker rooms, having changed into an outfit for working out - a black pair of leotards under blue shorts cut from a pair of sweatpants, the legs running about halfway to the knee; a white light cotton long-sleeve shirt; and her "Tiger Claw" practice shoes. She also wore a leather sleeve on her back for her Escrima sticks, which extended a few inches above her right shoulder.

As she walked onto the exercise floor, she began to hear Mark addressing the group in an authoritative tone. "Okay, you've all read and signed your military waivers, and consent and disclosure forms...let me tell you what our plans are within the next three weeks..." He turned as Kimi had placed her gym bag on the table and sat at a chair. "A little over a week ago," Mark continued, "there was an incident in Cairo in which a woman was abducted. I was asked to head the investigation...and initially the suspects were one of the terrorist factions in the region...but as the investigation began to expand, it was learned that it was not terrorism...but an act perpetrated by and involving negative elements of the Celler envionment." Mark turned and motioned Kimi to join him before the group. "As I'm sure you're aware, because this incident involves Celler activity in the Flesher environment, the military is restricted from formulating or initiating any action to effect a rescue operation by the CENAP Pact of 2012."

Kimi was now standing beside Mark. He moved his arm to her shoulder. "This is Miss Kimi Hodge," he said, motioning her forward a step, "and she will be undertaking a non-military rescue mission. She is fully aware of the CENAP restrictions placed on military intervention between environments...she is a red belt in Kempo Karate, with advanced studies in weapons defenses and Escrima techniques." Mark's voice now lowered a bit. "Kimi also has a vested stake in this operation...she is the fifteen-year old daughter of the hostage in Cairo." Mark's last brought low gasps and a hushed response from the group.

A hand came up from near the back of the group, and Mark motioned to acknowledge it. The woman who raised the hand now stood. "Master Sergeant Elaine Micheson, Sir," she said. "I've been involved with research and history studies in Celler-Flesher interaction, and I have a question concerning the hostage and the subject." Mark nodded for her to proceed. "Sir, given the age and appearance of the subject, would I be correct to assume that she is the daughter of a Celler by the name of Kim Possible, who was an actor in a show of the same name about sixteen years ago?"

"Precisely, Sergeant," Mark shot back. "Good eye. Kimi is the daughter of Kim Possible, who came to the Flesher environment about sixteen years ago, and is the hostage in question." He looked over the rest of the group. "Anyone else have any background in Celler research, or have you seen the show in question?" Seven hands in addition to Elaine's were raised in response. "Good," said Mark. "Those of you with more involved knowledge can assist and educate others in the group. Other questions?"

A man seated ahead of Elaine spoke up first. "Tech Sergeant Donald Brown. Is the subject also a Celler, Sir?"

"No," Elaine responded, "The subject is the offspring of the first recorded inter-environmental marriage, in 2004. She has traits from both her Celler mother and her father, who is a Flesher."

Mark grinned at Elaine's knowledge. "Dead on, Sergeant," he said. "Any other questions?"

A hand came from the front of the group - a man who had been sizing Kimi up since the mention of her martial skills, and was wearing his own pair of Escrima against his back. "Is the subject any good with the sticks, Sir?"

Kimi looked at the man with an inside feeling that his question was more a challenge than an innocent inquiry - and the mental denfese mechanism she had learned over the years got the better of her response. "Come find out later," she said with a quick wink and the barest hint of a smirk. A wave of "ooooo" and some applause swept across the group at her reply. The man who had asked the question simply smiled and nodded.

"Any other questions?" Mark asked again, glancing at a clock mounted on the far wall. "Okay...it's after 1400...we're on the clock." With this, the group began to rise to their feet and move to various spots around the floor, beginning stretching routines.

Mark and Kimi went back to the table. Mark sat into a chair, while Kimi stood a couple feet away, stretching first one arm toward the ceiling, then the other. Mark typed a bit on his laptop. "How long have you been a red belt, Ki?" he asked.

"Since my fourteenth birthday, last year," said Kimi. She moved to place her right hand on the table to steady herself, then brought up her left leg, bent at the knee. She grasped her ankle, then extended her leg back as far as her arm's length would allow - and slowly brought it forward in an arc, finishing by extending her leg upward, her hand sliding down against the back of her thigh, until she could just move her head forward a few inches to touch her nose to the front of her knee.

"And when did you start weapons defense routines?"

Kimi turned to face the exercise floor and did the same arc with her right leg. "About three years ago," she said, "I was an Advanced Green Belt then."

Mark typed for a moment. "I know you're advanced in weapons defense, and at a Brown belt level in Escrima...have you done anything lately to advance your general abilities?"

Kimi was now gyrating her head in a slow arc. "I was planning on studying for my brown belt when we got back from vacation," she said, "and taking the tests at the end of the year."

"Other than the Escrima and the weapons defense...is there anything you know that...isn't in the standard red belt regimen...?"

Kimi was now taking a few short jabs in front of her. "Well...I know a few moves that I...shouldn't yet...some blocks, mainly. Like you said this morning, it's all about live-in instructor," she turned to Mark with a bit of a smirk. "Oh...I can do a triple kick," she added.

Mark typed for a few seconds, then took a look around the floor at the group of training opponents, noting that most of them seemed to be ready - then to Kimi. "You about loosened up?" he asked.

"Yeah, Cap'n Mark," Kimi replied, "but...can I ask you a couple of questions now?"

"Sure," Mark smiled. "Anything you want. Fire away."

"Okay...you said full-contact...what if I hurt someone?"

"You won't," Mark said. "The Keatonite dissipates the energy of a strike."

Kimi's brow furrowed. "So...how will I know if I, umm, defeat one of these guys?"

"They all have some level of martial arts experience. They're well-enough trained that they will know when they've been struck with a blow that would wound or otherwise incapacitate an unprotected person...and they'll still react as they would if not wearing the suits. The suits disperse the energy, but not the inertia of a strike."

"...and you have one of these suits for me to wear when I go to Cairo?" Kimi asked.

"I wish I did, Ki," said Mark, "but the suits are complex to make. I could have a suit made for you...but unfortunately, to complete it would take about two weeks more time than we have."

"Maybe there's someone who's about the same size as me?"

Mark stood and took a step toward Kimi, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to think that I'm just making up reasons for you not to have a suit, Ki...but even if someone were about the same size as you, their suit wouldn't fit you like it has to. Each person is given a full-body computer scan, and molds are formed in plastic from those scans by a laser...then the material is laid into the molds, and is biometrically set under heat to conform exactly to the molds. Any gaps at all would compromise the energy-dispersing properties of the suit in that area."

Kimi studied Mark's face for a second - and was satisfied that he was being truthful. She smoothed her hand around her waist, stuffing her shirt under her sweatshorts, which she then hoisted a bit. Kimi looked toward her opponents and let out a bit of a sigh through puffed cheeks - shook out her hands - then - "...I'm ready."

"Atta girl," Mark beamed, patting Kimi's shoulder. "Stay here for just a second." He picked up the microphone and walked around the table, placing the ear clip around his ear and moving the microphone to near his mouth, his voice coming through the speakers. "Can I have all the participants take up points at the perimeter of the mat, please." The group moved to the edge of the exercise floor and they sat, spaced about three feet apart from one another. "Here's how the sessions will go...you were all given numbers which were on your consent forms...when I call your number, you will step to Miss Hodge and engage until you are struck by a crippling or lethal move. When you are struck down, you will count ten and then remove yourself from the mat until your number is called again." Mark then pulled a small whistle from his shirt pocket. "When you hear the whistle," he said, "Any and all fighting will immediately cease."

With that, he turned and walked back to the table, leaning to Kimi before he sat down. "Remember...this is full contact, and you're not going to hurt anyone." He then winked with a growl to his voice. "Show me what you've got, Ki. No mercy - bring it!"

2:07 PM
Kimi clenched and uncurled her fists and walked to the center of the floor. There was a click from the overhead speakers, then Mark's voice: "Number Two." One of the figures rose from the edge of the mat and approached the center. He stood for a second, squaring himself, then struck a basic fighting pose. Kimi locked into a stance, her knees bent slightly; her right hand curling into a fist at her waist; her left in front of her, blade-straight.

The figure swung at Kimi's head with a sharp right. Kimi quickly brought her left arm up in an upper cross block, simultaneously taking a step at the figure, swiveling her torso to put her weight behind her right fist, which she drove into her opponent's solar plexus. The figure immediately doubled, and she could hear an audible "oof" from behind the fabric over the figure's face. In any other sparring situation, Kimi would immediately stop and ask her opponent if he was alright - but with the protection of the impact suit covering the figure she had just struck, Kimi took Mark at his word - and lashed her left hand hard at the figure, the butt edge of her hand striking him full in the throat. The blow caused the figure to leave his feet as he whipped back, landing to the mat with a hard "thud" on his shoulders, clutching his throat and rolling to one side, his legs drawing up.

Kimi instantly shot a look back to Mark, then at the motionless figure on the floor. Mark's voice came over the speakers. "Number Two - recover."

Kimi's eyes widened as the figure immediately sat up. He pressed the places on his forehead, and his face patch fell away, revealing a wide smile on the man's face. He chuckled a little as he rose to his feet. "I'm just fine, Miss Hodge," he said, offering his hand.

Kimi shook the man's hand, still in disbelief. "It's...it's all about your windpipe should be collapsed..."

"And it would have been, had he not been wearing the impact suit," said Mark.

The man pointed this out by pounding his fist against his neck a couple of times. "I've worked with the KISS for almost a year," he said, "and I never get tired of seeing someone's reaction the first time they interact with it." He took a step toward the edge of the mat - then turned his head back to Kimi and smiled, tapping a finger against his throat. "By the way, the Captain is right - good strike...I'm 'dead'."

"Now you know how well the suits do their job," Mark said, "so all you have to worry about is how well you do yours. Trust the suits...and concentrate on your moves."

Craig leaned to Mark, who placed his hand over the microphone. "Are you sure she's just a red belt?" he asked.

A smile slowly grew on Kimi's face. She gave a nod of understanding - then turned back to her opponents.

"Number Eight," Mark called out.

----------

Kimi had encountered several of the trainers by this time, and in one manner or another, had "defeated" them - some with more effort than with others, sometimes with rather unconventional and amazing results. With each match, Mark could visibly see Kimi's confidence increase, committing moves with better and better execution. When she dealt a "death blow" to an opponent, she no longer hesitated, wondering if she had actually injured one of the suit-clad figures, but instead turned to Mark, waiting for him to call in the next fighter.

2:44 PM.
"Number Eleven."

A figure stood - and it caused Kimi to utter a barely-perceptable gasp. It was the man who had asked of Kimi's skill with Escrima. Like Kimi, he was wearing a leather sleeve with two black Escrima sticks jutting above his shoulder.

Kimi's inner sense kicked up a notch. This was to be her first test of the afternoon involving a weapon other than hands and feet. She quickly went over techniques and counters in her mind as the figure approached. Kimi then tapped into the confidence she had built from previous matches of the afternoon. Just another slug, she thought to herself.

A slug with Escrima.

The man stopped about six feet from Kimi - then bowed slightly, bringing his hands in front of him, the right in a fist, the left curled over it. He then slid his hands upward to a praying position.

"What's he doing?" Craig whispered to Mark.

The man now opened his palms to Kimi, his thumbs and outstretched forefingers touching, forming a diamond-shape which he looked at Kimi through.

Mark covered the mic again, leaning slightly to Craig. "That's the Kempo Salute," he said. "It's usually used more in formal training sessions, though." He quickly flippped through the stack of consent forms, finding the one the man had filled out. "Staff Sergeant Steve Sievers...he listed himself as a green belt, currently testing for red...nothing about his Escrima experience, though."

Mark looked up just as Sievers finished his salute, and brought his fists back to his waist, then took a half-step back into a fight stance. Kimi reacted, tensing into her own pose as the fighter moved closer. He threw a quick right, which Kimi blocked with a sweep of her left arm. They both retracted quickly. Sievers swung his left leg, whipping his knee forward at the last, trying to strike Kimi's midsection. Kimi blocked with her right, her forearm against his ankle.

The second Kimi blocked the kick, Sievers' right arm arced past his shoulder, his hand curling around the shaft of one of his sticks. Kimi dove to her left and rolled past him just as he brought the black Escrima in a swing against the floor. As he turned around, she completed the roll and sprang to her feet, her hand flashing over her own shoulder, producing both of her blue Escrima. She quickly transfered one to her left hand, then crossed them in an "X" in front of her. Sievers reached back and brought forth his second stick.

Sievers lunged at Kimi with a "Yahhh!" Both Mark and Craig sat up in their chairs, their attention sharpened as the two fighters burst into a flurry of swings and blocks. People on the weight machines stopped their routines and some leaned over the railing on the second level, watching as the quickening rhythm of the sticks' staccato reports echoed through the gym "klek-Klek-klekklek-KLEK-klek"

Kimi's opponent flashed his left stick low, swinging at her knee; Kimi swung low to block, feeling the stick strike her lightly just above the knee. The heightened state Kimi was in had her nerves as tight as piano wire - and the tap on the leg was all it took.

Sievers swung his right stick at eye level. Kimi blocked it, swinging her left stick upward. At the same time she twisted to her left, curling her right arm and slamming the Escrima hard into the man's crotch. The "klek-klek-klek" had been replaced by a collective, painful groan from the onlookers, wincing at the move - and the beginning of a shrill growl from Kimi as she remained in position, dropped her sticks and turned again to her left, reaching for her opponent's arm, and building to a gutteral scream as she caught Sievers on her hip and threw him forward to land on the mat with a heavy thud - accompanied by thunderous applause from the crowd now watching the action.

Kimi took a step backward, glancing back to locate her Escrima, but keeping her main focus on the man, still on the floor. She and the applause was frozen by the sharp screech from Mark's whistle. He stood and looked along the second-level railing. "You are all invited and welcome to watch the training session," he said, "but my only request is that you restrain from applause or undue noise during fights...thank you for your cooperation."

Mark had begun to sit back in his chair, looking at the screen of his laptop, and Kimi had retrieved her Escrima and walked forward, looking to Mark for the number of her next opponent, when she felt a sharp pain at the backs of her knees. She let out a short shriek through gritted teeth as her legs were swept from under her, and she thudded to the mat on her back, turning her head to see the man she had just bested who was holding a stick beneath her knees, and had removed his face patch meeting Kimi's disbelieving stare with a wide grin.

The noise made both Mark and Craig snap their heads toward the incident. "Sievers dropped her while her back was turned!" Craig said.

Mark leaped to his feet, tearing the mic clip from his ear. "Something should have tipped me about this guy," he growled as he raced around the table, running onto the mat to the man, who was just getting to his feet and offering a hand to Kimi.

That hand was slapped away by Mark, who took a stance between the two and met Seivers with daggers shooting from his eyes. If Mark had not spent any time as a drill sergeant, he did his level best to emulate one now: "Explain yourself, Sievers," he said sharply, mere inches from the Sergeant's face.

"I was...just giving the subject a little taste of the mat she had just put me on," Sievers offered in a slightly arrogant tone.

"Is--that right..." Mark snapped back. "You couldn't give her a 'little taste of the mat' through a legit match? But nooooo, even though you were defeated, you were just bound and determined to get the last shot in, by any means." Mark turned his eyes to Kimi, who had gotten to her feet and was retrieving her other Escrima stick. "You okay, Ki?" he asked.

Kimi dipped slightly to run her hand over the back of her left knee. "A little sting," she said. "No big."

Mark's face sharpened into a stern sneer, and he turned back to the Sergeant. "That 'No big' is the only thing stopping me from calling the MP's in here. Who gave you your Escrima training, Sievers? They did a good job training you in the moves and blocks, but I'll bet my captain's bars they didn't teach you that down and dirty shit."

"I...think I should report this threat to my CO," Sievers said, trying to garner some form of verbal counter.

Sievers was shocked into a blank stare at Mark as the tall blonde man's voice exploded through both him and the rest of the gym: "Right here, right now in this room, I!-am your CO! And the only report I want from YOU is ten seconds from now - reporting that you've given a full apology to Miss Hodge for your poor sportsmanship!"

"You may be a Captain," Sievers returned, "but this exercise is a non-military endeavor. It states such on our waiver forms. You even said it yourself."

Mark took a step back. "You're absolutely right, Sievers," he said. "And as such, I shouldn't be addressing you as the Captain that I am." He slipped off his watch and handed it to Kimi. "Maybe I should be addressing you as the second-degree black belt that I am, and 'give you a little taste' of what it's like to have your ASS handed to you TWICE within five MINUTES." Sievers made a motion toward his face - but froze as Mark quickly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. "And before you can get that face patch back on, I'll hit you with so many rights, you'll BEG me for a left!"

The two men stood for a few seconds - and just as he had been by Kimi's sterling moves, Sievers was bested by Mark's intent glare. Mark whipped his hand down, breaking his hold on the Sergeant's wrist - then swept that hand across his chest in a fist, his thumb thrusting in Kimi's direction. Sievers took the order and slowly walked to Kimi. "Miss Hodge," he said in a humbled tone, "I apologize for my behavior...you are the better fighter, and beat me clean...there is no excuse for what I did after the fight was clearly over." Kimi said nothing, but looked at Sievers for a moment - then slowly nodded.

"Good," Mark said to Sievers as Kimi returned his watch to him. "Now go clear your locker and return the lock card to the clerk...you're relieved of further duty in these sessions, Sergeant." Sievers nodded to Mark, then started for the locker room, unfastening his Escrima sleeve as he went. "Turn your KISS suit in to your CO as soon as you leave here," Mark called after the man. "I'll call later to confirm." Mark then turned to the rest of the group. "Anyone else even thinking about being 'cute' like Sievers, you can fall in behind him now."

The rest of the group remained in place.

"As I'm sure the rest of you are aware by now," Mark continued, "Miss Hodge is an accomplished martial artist...and, as you've just seen - and as Mr. Sievers found out first-hand, she is just as accomplished with weapons. She is working toward undertaking a mission to utilize those arts in the rescue of her mother. Now...unlike as Mr. Sievers was so eager to demonstrate...this is not about how 'clever' you can be...this is not about you. Today is about assessing Miss Hodge's abilities. This is our only objective today, and I expect nothing more and nothing less than professional cooperation from the rest of you in the achievement of that objective." He then started back toward the table and glanced at his watch. "There will be a break of 20 minutes," he said, taking his chair and motioning Kimi to the table.

During the break, Mark had the onsite medical staff check over Kimi's knees, to ensure that she had sustained no injury to them. When they returned to the desk, a couple of the group came forward and told Mark that most of the people in the group were part of a "karate club" on the base that met several times a month. They also mentioned that at one time, Sievers was a member of that club, and was eventually evicted for behavior similar to the incident with Kimi.

After the break, the exercises resumed with a heightened vigor. Mark continued making notes on Kimi's capabilities as she went through move after block after sequence. After each encounter, Kimi would look back to Mark with an expression that told him she was pleased with the level of her efforts. Mark responded by slowly shortening the interval between Kimi besting one opponent and facing the next, until it became a string of fighter after fighter, with Mark calling out another number nearly the second Kimi took down the previous one. A couple of times during this session, Kimi demonstrated her acrobatic ability when an opponent approached, leaping into a handspring, bounding over them and landing behind, either delivering a quick kidney kick which dropped the fighter immediately, or tumbling in mid-air, landing on her hands and locking her ankles around the fighter's neck and wrenching them to the mat to deliver a heel to the throat.

4:51 PM.
Kimi took down her current opponent with a leg sweep, pouncing on him and sending a punch to the throat. The figure slumped to the mat, limp. Kimi smiled and patted the side of the man's face twice, and he responded with a "thumbs-up." Kimi sprang to her feet and turned to Mark to await her next opponent.

"Number Four," Mark called out - then added "And Number Nine."

Kimi's eyes widened a bit. Two opponents at the same time? Cap'n Mark is all about pushing the envelope, she thought.

From her beginnings in karate, up to now, all of Kimi's training, sparring - everything - had been focused on a single opponent. Mark had now turned up the wick, pitting her against multiple targets.

Kimi steeled herself into a stance as the two figures approached. She tried to think of something that would motivate her inner resolve...something that would motivate her to up her abilities to clear the higher hurdle Mark had now set before her. She tried to imagine the men as dressed in guerilla outfits. She tried to imagine them in long white robes and turbans. She tried to imagine these men as being part of the force which abducted her mother.

Something then flashed into Kimi's head - something her friend Frannie had said to her last weekend--

"The Kempo Diamond. Shred the wind, Ki."

Shred the wind.

The two figures were before her now, standing about a foot apart, preparing to spread into a fight stance. Kimi crouched slightly - then leaped into the air screaming, her arms out, fists tight, her legs gyrating for balance like a flying squirrel's tail.

"eeeeeehhhyy--"

She kicked the two men nearly simultaneously - catching the man to her right full in the throat and thudding her left foot against the other figure's chest. Even before that foot left its target she was canting her hips to the left, slamming her right foot against the temple of the fighter on her left, sending him sprawling in a spin to his right.

"--yy-YAAAHH!!!"

The last of Kimi's yell pealed through the stunned silence of the gym as all three figures hit the mat at the same time - one fighter spread-eagle face-down, the other on his back - and Kimi landing in a three-point stance, one leg behind her for balance, the other brought up beneath her.

Mark's whistle pierced the silence. The two figures on the floor sat up at the shrill sound, and Kimi swiveled on her bent leg to see Mark standing at the table, removing the whistle from his mouth, which remained slightly open. Craig was still seated, but had the same incredulous expression on his face. Mark then recovered. "When...when you said you could do a 'triple kick,' I thought you meant against a single target," he stammered.

Kimi bounced slightly, then sprang to her feet. "...all about live-in instructor..?"

Even Mark couldn't believe what came from his mouth next. "Ki, I'm a second-degree black belt...I've been trying to work that move for nearly two years now...and I still can't pull it off with the speed that you just did. That...was...incredible...simply--"

Even though through the speakers, the rest of Mark's words were drowned out by an eruption of applause from the people in the gym who had gathered to watch the action, mixed with whoops and hollers of approval.

Mark sat back in his chair while the cheering continued, taking off his microphone. Craig leaned to him. "With Kimi's grace," he said, "I can see why you code-named this thing 'Operation Cairo Swan,' but after seeing what I've seen so far...she's like a swan made of tempered spring steel. I'll say it again...I'm sure glad she's on our side."

Mark burst into laughter. "I like that," he said. "In fact, I'm using that." He waved his hand for Kimi to come to the desk, and reached down into his laptop case, pulling out a folder and a pen. He scratched over the label on the front, marking out "Cairo" and writing above it.

The label now read: "Operation Steel Swan."

As Kimi began to walk toward the desk, Mark picked up the microphone. "That will be all for today, trainers. The next session will be Monday at 0900. Please contact me before that time if you cannot make it. Thank you all for your participation today."

Kimi stopped in front of the desk, holding her Escrima sticks in both hands. "Go get a shower and come back here, Ki," Mark said, smiling broadly. "I want to get some reach measurements, then we'll go get that chicken supper you were talking about."

"So it's all about I...assessed okay?" asked Kimi.

"There's the understatement of the year," Craig chuckled. "You were like liquid murder out there."

"Thanks," Kimi beamed. "Okay...I'll go to the showers, then it's all about dinner, Cap'n Mark."

"Dinner?" Mark quipped. "You had that earlier today."

"Nooo...I had lunch earlier today."

"That's what I said - dinner."

"URGGH," Kimi huffed through a smile, turning for the locker rooms.

to be continued...