Maverick (A G.I. Joe Fanfiction)

Chapter 16: Sparring

This is Jinx everyone. Just thought she looked badass in this picture. -Carrath

Timber first brought me to the hanger, where the Cobra helicopter sat in pieces, and then to an elevator like a platform that as it went down you saw the passing floors. The bottom floor opened up into a multi-uses high-tech military training area with a simulator, firing range, weapons racks, driving course, and sparring mats. As I followed Timber further into the large space, the strange sounds I been hearing became clear audibly.

“Hh.”

“Ya.”

“Ha.”

“Huh.”

I leaned into my next step, unsheathing a sai, and hooked a finger between the tongs and blade. With a flick of my wrist, I grabbed hold of the worn leather and angled the blade adjacently to my forearm. From behind one of the many storage racks, I noticed the slightest movement of red and white.  At the sight of the red, I withdrew a second sai and ducked low. I don’t need this right now, I thought remembering that the Cobra ninjas wore red. I paused at the bend, my back firmly against the metal rack, and peered around to the other side, at the two fighters. The one in white was obviously Storm Shadow. However, the other one looked nothing like a Cobra minion. The biggest differences was that the fighter was a female and her face wasn’t covered. Glossy hair fell past her shoulders and down her straight back like a black-waterfall that ended at her slender waist. I frowned inwardly, re-sheathing my sai, then removed my cardigan to tie it around my waist. I swiftly sat my backpack and myself by the mat.

I stretched and watched Storm ram his knee into the stomach of the unnamed woman with a smile lightly playing on my lips. Snake rounded the weapons rack and glanced at the fighters then let his gaze rest on me. Without lifting my head away from my knee, I waved back at him. He reacted in confusion or maybe it was amusement, with him it’s near impossible to tell which without getting closer to him.

I studied the fighters' moves while keeping an eye on Snake, who shook his head at almost the same time I did when Red made a bad move. At that point in the fight, Snake’s knowledge of who would win drew him the rest of the way and placed him standing alongside me while I stretched out my arms.

“Kick out the feet, hand to the throat and force to the mat,” I muttered Storm Shadow’s finishing moves a moment before he executed them, winning me a turn of the head from Snake-eyes. “Strange how I can easily pick that out and she can’t.” I rose from the floor, securing my lose hair with a pony-tail- holder, as she strolled towards us. “You were really something…?”

“Jinx,” she replied, looking me over with keen eyes then shock over takes her calculating expression. “You’re Maverick?”

“Either word travels radically slow around here or a lot of you are just shy,” I commented, shaking my head at no one in particular.

“Better late than never,” she countered, walking away and disappearing behind the gun rack.

"More like the early bird catches the worm," I muttered quietly as her left.

I forgot about her quickly and joined a very fresh looking Storm Shadow on the mats. Thankfully, I had stretched and was feeling extremely limber because Storm’s first attempt at a blow came exactly as I entered striking distance. He’s kick was snail slow by my standards. This made it exceedingly easy to catch hold of his ankle, pull it towards myself as I took a half step to my right. With his balance broken, I swung my left leg so that it was over him then downward kicked him onto the mats. I glared down at him.

“Don’t…and I repeat…don’t…hold back…cause if you do…you will lose,” I growled at him then asked. “How about a wager? If I win I want one guaranteed favor, no questions asked.”

“A favor?” he repeated. “Fine, and if I win I want that kiss.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Storm,” I snorted.

I stood there casually, my feet shoulder length apart and my hands open at my sides. When Storm’s fist came around, I let it hit. I wanted to gauge his strength. And believe me, there is something good that come out of being knocked in the face when you can’t feel the pain, momentum. I spun around on the balls of my right foot, my face almost grazing the mat. I hooked onto the back of his neck with my left ankle, pulling him down face-first into the mat.

“You let me hit you,” Storm exclaimed, pushing himself back onto his feet.

“It’s not like I can feel it,” I remarked, hunger anger leaking out into my voice.

“Snake,” Storm called, getting his attention. “Switch?”

Snake shook his head then jerked his thumb over at the simulator. My bravo and jaw dropped while my eyes went nervously wide. Storm glanced over and smirked at my tense state of being.

“I don’t like guns,” I stated, shaking my head.

“Correction,” a deep familiar voice piped in, making all three of us turn our heads. “Grace is scared of guns.”

“How nice of you to join us, Old Man, would you like the next round?” I growled. “I’d enjoy knocking you around the mat a bit, exercise some of the excess anger that's been building over the years.”

“Respect you elder kiddo,” Joe warned, pointing a finger at me, as he took Storm’s place on the mats. “I’m not as sloppy as Rice Ball.”

“Respect is earned by a person’s action not their age,” I countered as we lowered ourselves into similar deep fighting stances. “Believe me, I’m going to make you  yours.”

We stood there for so long, sizing each other up and waiting for the other to make a move, that we had drawn a crowd. When Joe finally threw his punch, I instinctively seized his wrist with my opposite hand and spun into him, my back coming against his chest. Once there, I rammed my elbow into his solar plexus then flipped him over my shoulders onto the mats on his back. As I quickly released Joe’s wrist and backed away, the crowd burst into cheers. I remained indifferent as I waited to see if Joe was going to get up.

At the moment my mom arrived and joined the audience, Dad curled his legs back to the point of touching his ears and then shoot them out, landing heavily on his feet. He didn’t stay standing very long before going at my legs with a sweeping kick. I vault backwards into a flawless back-hand-spring and dodged the kick, landing at the very edge of the mat. Not good. Step off the mats and instant Game Over, I thought as an “Oh” went through the gathering.

I knew what came next because I had myself posed for another back-flip and Joe don’t know the pickle he’d put himself in. As Joe’s leg came around for seconds, I leaned forward. Using his bald head as an extra push-off while fully airborne, I front-flipped over Joe and landed behind him. Before he could thoroughly straighten out of his crouch and turn, I pulled my knee into my chest and then slammed the sole of my boot straight into his back, forcing him a good five strides off the mat. I remained completely still for a decent amount of time. I stood effortlessly balanced on my left foot, using my left arm as a counterweight, my entire right leg horizontally in line with my back and parallel to my right arm. After slowly straightening myself to a vertical standing, I locked gazes with Joe then turn abruptly.

“Ring out you old fart,” I muttered, yanking the hair tie out. “Give my bow and quiver to Storm and Storm, you will find me and hand me said objects to me directly. Now, I don’t know about the rest of you people but I’m hunger.”