Hidden Depths

Chapter 10 - Cataphiles

Over the space of six months, Rashid changed faster than he ever had done before.  He had been going to boxing training for years and had always been strong, but hours in the gym with Brodie had really bulked him up.  When combined with Nikolai's pharmaceutical assistance, he had gained results that would take most people years to achieve. 

Rashid had made an absolute killing as one of the few people to bet on himself in his first fight with Karl and Gazza.  He had also been paid handsomely for his subsequent bouts.  The rancid room that had been home for his first few days in Paris was now a distant memory, and, although he could now afford to stay just about anywhere in the city, he chose to live with Brodie and Davide in the swanky and vibrant Latin Quarter of town.

Although only in the ring two or three times a month, Rashid had little time to himself.   He spent his days training with the fighters and his nights in bars, restaurants and at parties with the hosts.  He occasionally spoke English with some of the hosts but he mostly spoke French and soon replaced his bizarre Birmingham pronunciation with the Parisian accent that he heard every day.

His favourite time was when he was with Layla, who had taken it upon herself to teach him to free run.  She knew that he was strong and naturally coordinated and said that, because he was still fairly young, he had a good chance of becoming one of the greatest.  Rashid was interested in becoming a parkour legend, but his real motivation was to spend as much time with Layla as possible. 

The more he improved, the more she wanted to teach him, so he spent any spare time he had practising his moves.  Brodie and Davide had grown used to coming back to the flat to find him perched on top of a wardrobe, and they had once caught him trying to kong-vault a coffee table, breaking their sofa in the process.

Rashid was fluent in French. He was thinking in French, and had spent so much time as Rich that he felt he was actually becoming him.  Rashid Shadid was now a sad figure from the past of the new and improved person he wanted to be.   It was more through evolution than a specific resolution that Rashid had become Richard.  Although it was only six months since he had run away, Rich had moved on completely.  The angry and unhappy boy from Birmingham was forgotten.

After putting him up against the other regular fighters for a couple of weeks, Nikolai had realised that Rich was not going to be troubled by them, and he began recruiting outsiders for one-off fights. While most of the men he fought were older and taller, Rich was often stronger than them and always faster.  The blue pill that he had taken on his first night at the Wonderlust Club was Nikolai's most secret and valuable performance-enhancing drug.  Whereas it would take a normal fighter decades to develop the expertise to be considered a martial arts grandmaster, these little blue pills let Rich effortlessly recall, and perfectly perform, any boxing move he had ever learned. 

Ordinarily, people have to deliberately practise for ten thousand hours or more to embed their skills as second nature, but the pills served to accentuate Rich's already exceptional abilities.  They allowed him to block out any self-doubt and easily access the parts of his brain where the knowledge of perfect form was held.  When he used those little blue pills, known as cognitives, he could coordinate and control his body to replicate new moves precisely.  Irrespective of fear, anger or stress, he got it right every time.  When he fought he could select and deliver the perfect dodge, parry or punch without having to consciously consider what he was doing.  He had a speed of manoeuvre that can only be achieved by fighting on instinct, but instead of being ill-disciplined and scrappy, his delivery was controlled and clean perfection.

Fighting specialists in varied martial arts and combat sports offered Rich an opportunity to add new moves to his repertoire.  Nikolai was scouring Paris to find new and more challenging adversaries for him to take on, but the steady stream of ever improving opponents only served to enhance his abilities.  Facing experts in disciplines as varied as Jujitsu and Capoeira was hard work and his fights were by no means a walkover, but every punch, kick, grab or throw that penetrated his defences was added to his skill set.  Although he didn't know it, Rich was receiving a master class each time he fought.