“About what?”
Jake lifted his chin.
“Confidence doesn’t substitute for experience.”
Emma gave a small nod.
“Then demonstrate it.”
Something changed in Jake’s eyes.
He stopped checking the faces around him.
He looked only at Emma.
Briggs finally uncrossed his arms.
The movement drew every soldier’s attention.
He walked toward the edge of the mat.
“Controlled contact only.”
The room straightened almost collectively.
Briggs looked at Jake.
“No hunting for the head.”
“Understood.”
“No attacks against joints.”
“Yes, Sergeant First Class.”
Briggs turned toward Emma.
“Same restrictions.”
Emma nodded.
“Yes.”
Briggs lifted the whistle.
“Touch gloves.”
Jake extended one padded fist.
Emma tapped it once.
He leaned closer.
“You’re going to wish you hadn’t made everybody watch this.”
Emma lowered her hand.
“You’re the one who made sure they were watching.”
Jake’s jaw tightened.
Briggs stepped back.
The whistle sounded.
Jake moved first.
He did not rush forward.
That surprised several soldiers.
He circled to his left, bouncing lightly.
Emma remained close to the center.
Jake twitched his lead shoulder.
Emma barely responded.
He tried the same feint again.
Nothing.
“Move,” he muttered.
Emma took one small step.
The room became silent enough to hear the rubber sole of Briggs’s shoe scrape outside the boundary.
Rising Tension
Jake circled again.
Emma turned just enough to keep him in front of her.
Her hands remained relaxed.
That irritated him more than a rigid guard would have.
He snapped a quick probing jab toward her shoulder.
Emma shifted outside its path.
The glove missed cleanly.
No dramatic dodge.
No unnecessary movement.
She simply was not where Jake expected her to remain.
A few soldiers exchanged looks.
Jake reset.
“Lucky.”
Emma said nothing.
He bounced twice.
His left heel lifted again.
Emma saw it.
So did Briggs.
Jake drove forward with another controlled combination.
Emma moved back one step, then angled to her right.
His second glove passed in front of her chest.
She touched his shoulder with two fingers.
Barely contact.
Then she moved away.
Daniels blinked.
Jake stared at the spot she had touched.
“That wasn’t anything.”
Emma nodded.
“I know.”
The answer created more discomfort than boasting would have.
Jake approached again.
His movements became sharper.
He was still following Briggs’s restrictions.
But the relaxed demonstration had disappeared.
“Keep your hands up,” he said.
Emma raised them slightly.
“Like this?”
A few soldiers nearly smiled.
Nobody laughed.
Jake noticed.
His eyes flicked toward them.
Emma saw the glance.
There it was again.
The room.
The witnesses.
The need to know exactly how the moment was being received.
She understood the pattern now.
Jake stepped forward with another feint.
Emma did not bite.
He changed levels and reached toward her upper arm.
Emma turned.
His glove brushed air.
She touched his ribs with an open palm.
Again, the contact was light.
Again, she immediately disengaged.
Jake stopped.
Briggs checked the wall clock.
Nobody spoke.
Jake’s breathing had changed.
Not much.
Emma heard it anyway.
“You’ve done this before,” he said.
Emma looked at him.
“You asked for a demonstration.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Briggs remained silent.
Emma noticed that Jake was now speaking less loudly.
He no longer projected toward the room.
His words were meant only for her.
She shifted her weight evenly across both feet.
Jake studied her stance.
“What unit taught you that?”
Emma answered with another question.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because administrative soldiers don’t move like that.”
The sentence hung between them.
Emma glanced toward Daniels.
His expression remained deliberately blank.
Jake caught the movement.
“Stay focused on me.”
“I am.”
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“You keep checking everyone else.”
Jake froze.
The spectators seemed to stop breathing.
Emma had not raised her voice.
That made the observation worse.
Jake’s eyes hardened.
“You worried about what they think?”
“No.”
“Then why mention them?”
Emma gave him the same calm look.
“Because you are.”
A soldier near the benches lowered his eyes.