We make it to the gym, and this time I don't even both removing my Kevlar jacket. Not for protection, but partially because it weighed me down, providing a greater challenge, and partially because my shoulder hurt too much. The rookie took initiative, throwing a right hook, which I dodged quickly and gracefully. The first two minutes of the fight were like this, me ducking and weaving beneath, beside, and simply away from the punches and kicks he threw. After a while I noticed his motion getting sluggish, his breathing ragged. He threw one more punch, which hit my injured shoulder, hard, causing me to grit my teeth painfully, tilting away and kicking him in the chest, knocking him on his ass. I rub my shoulder a bit, before extending an arm to help him up. "You owe me $100," I say, walking away.
The rookie, after I leave, looks at Steele, asking "Who the hell was that crazy bitch."