1 Manic Monday Read Online Free PDF Page A

watching them intently with a smug look on his face.  Jake suddenly
wanted a chance to spar their instructor.
    "I am as ready as ever.  You spend much time in
martial arts over at Yale?"
    She raised her eyebrows at that and punched her sparring
gloves together, sending talcum flying in the air.
    "Studied Tukong Moosul for five years under my grandfather's friend from
Korea," she said proudly.  Jake did not miss the intent.  She
meant to give him a sense of false security.  Although Tukong Moosul was a deadly art, it incorporated many twists,
kicks, and quick forward punches as well as more subtle throws, grabs, and
pressure point exploitations.
    Jake knew she would go for a more aggressive, quick attack
meant to embarrass him or send him to the floor in one or two moves.  He
was even more certain than before that she would use a bursting attack.
    He decided to use his first move to set her up.
    "Alright.   Let's do
this," he said.
    He stepped in quickly, the padded armor around his body
constricting around his neck as he brought his knife hand high in a jab from
shoulder height.  Violet was six inches shorter than him, so the angle was
awkward, but he knew that this would work to his advantage for his counter.
    He expected the block.  She intersected his forearm
with hers and brought it down at an angle away from her body.  What he did
not expect was her next move.
    He had been anticipating her heavy blow to his chest or neck
region, as per the bursting technique.  He had planned to counter by
collapsing his back and absorbing the blow as they had been trained during the Spetznaz portion of Sergei's program.
    Jake even had his feet forward and his toes in so that he
could execute a side step aimed at hitting the pressure point on the side of
her knee and collapsing her base.  He intended to follow up with a tackle
and a left hook to the temple and a quick right elbow to the nose as he fell on
top of her.
    None of that happened, though. 
    Instead, she stepped inside his stance, grabbed his off hand
by the wrist in a painful grip, and twisted his hand outward.  To
compliment this move, she stomped on his instep of his right foot and pivoted
her hips.  The pain and the momentum sent him in a dizzying spin to the
mat.
    Before Jake had an opportunity to be embarrassed at the turn
of events, he felt Violet collapse her body on top of him, wrapping his left
leg between hers, one foot planted in his groin, the other crossed over. 
Her gloved hands pulled on his left arm, turning the wrist up and around from
its natural position.
    The pain was more disconcerting than his shame.
    Jake quickly blunted the pain and put it outside of
himself.  Through gritted teeth, he pushed off the ground in a wild
attempt to flip his body over and reverse her hold.  The only way he could
save face was to use his superior strength and focus.
    She laughed and pushed down, her foot squeezing his groin
and sending his shoulder blades apart.  A flare of fire and sharp pain
erupted between his shoulder blades.  But that pain was dulled by the ache
he felt creeping into his lower abdomen from the damage her foot had dealt to
his family jewels.   Jake closed his eyes. 
    That would be a dull ache until dinner time , he
estimated.
    He raised his right foot and kicked out at her head. 
Both of her hands were occupied in pulling his arm out of its socket while
breaking his wrist at the same time.  She could not protect herself. 
He heard her grunt.  He tried it again and heard Sergei laugh.  The
whole gym had stopped to watch the spectacle, he saw through a red haze. 
    Jake cursed inside and planted his toe under her chin near
where jaw line met the soft tissue of her neck.  He pushed.  Violet
screamed.  It was a low, guttural scream.  Perhaps he had made her
angry.  Now that he understood that she had been practicing her Sambo , Jake did not care. 
    He kicked once more, this time a sweep.  He needed the
momentum to swing his