Caught Unaware

Chapter 13

CIA OPERATING FACILITY LOCATED BELOW ORANGE ORANGE YOGURT SHOP

BURBANK, CA

CODE NAME: CASTLE

"Keep that right arm up when you hit southpaw."

Thwack

"Now right hook, left arm up."

Thwack

"Now, jab, jab, jab, jab, keep it going. Harder now. Harder! Come on, Cershaw, you have to mean it!"

Casey's voice echoed through the workout room of the CIA base. He wore protective gloves for her to hit and kick her frustrations out of as he coached her. This was his element, he never felt more at home than he did when he was either sparring or shooting. He took hit after hit, pushing back a little each time her wrapped fist or kickboxing-shoe-clad foot connected.

He made notes in her head each time she swung. She was right handed, which made her left arm a little weaker. But her upper-cut was more forceful with her left, which was interesting. Both legs were equal in power but if she used her momentum without tensing up, she would be using less energy and throwing more of her power into it. In turn, Amelia tried to use what Casey was teaching her with each swing.

"Bounce around, move in a circle but change directions to keep your opponent on their toes," Casey instructed, the intensity of his focus pouring out of his eyes. Amelia moved her feet and concentrated on her hits. She tried a combination of three jabs with her right hand, then a heavy left hook with all her strength. Casey was unprepared for the surprising attack but easily blocked them, the shock on his face was enough to make Amelia lower her hands and laugh. Casey, his padded hands still up in defensive position, smirked and shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah, are we going to giggle like school girls all day," he asked her, his eyes glittering with excitement. How he lived for the action!

Amelia used her forearm to wipe sweat from her forehead and grabbed at the newly purchased water bottle, drinking before she set herself up into position once more.

"Your jabs were excellent but your hook was slow, even if it was effective," said Casey, back into teacher mode. "Try it again."

They worked out like that for another half hour before Amelia put her hands up, took two steps back and sat down hard on the workout mat. She felt exhausted but fantastic, except for the fact she was sweating so badly it was dripping down her arms. That was a new experience for her. The most working out she did was on a treadmill, but this went far beyond anything she had known. She hurt in places she didn't know she could work out, and they hadn't been at it for very long, or without any real intensity. Amelia felt very out of shape, even for her 5-foot-6-inch, 132-pound frame.

Casey grabbed Amelia's water bottle and sat next to her, handing it to her before taking his gloves off. His hands were sore underneath but he welcomed the sensation. The physical activity helped him with his own anxieties as of late and he felt both elated and relaxed. He looked over at Amelia. Her hair, done up in a graceful ponytail at the beginning of the afternoon was falling out of its elastic hair tie, strands of stray hair was plastered to her face and shoulders. It almost gave the impression she had just gotten out of bed after--

No, no, he chided himself, shaking his head slightly and looking away from Amelia. Mustn't go there. He thought he was feeling a little less tense, but it apparently even working out with her wasn't helping his own frustrations any.

Amelia looked at Casey as he was looking around the room and she nudged him with her shoulder. He looked back at her, inwardly almost reluctantly. He couldn't help but think she looked good sweaty.