Yin and Yang
The women released their bows and circled one another, warily, with respect. All judoka know that underestimating an opponent is the surest way to defeat. Both women had competed at the highest levels; each knew the other was highly skilled and dangerous.
They were sizing each other up, testing each other's reactions, looking for an opening.
Emma at 27 was the younger of the two, and the taller. Long and lithe, her movements were graceful and yet coiled with tension. Her glossy auburn hair fell over her shoulders in a loose flip. Eyes, large and brown, were focused only on her opponent.
Cathy was six years older and slightly shorter, more muscular and more buxom. She radiated power as she circled. Her sleek blond hair, in a tight curl above the shoulder, glowed in the artificial light. Her blue eyes were like steel.
Emma had never seen Cathy in action, but knew of her through her exploits. After returning from Africa, Cathy had competed in and won several amateur championships in judo and taekwondo. At the Ministry, her exploits were legend. In training, some said she tried too hard to win, occasionally hurting opponents through sheer determination. Or maybe because she enjoyed it. Even the men disliked sparring with her.
As for Cathy, she had done her homework before bringing Emma here. She knew Mrs, Peel was a great athlete, amateur tennis and golf champion, martial arts expert, deadly with sword or gun. She'd proven herself on the job. But that was the challenge, that was always the challenge for Cathy: to beat the best.
Moving in concert, the women engaged. Grabbing hold of each other's judogi, they now began the test of strength, leverage and balance that is judo. They struggled mightily, each trying to find some advantage, some way to throw her opponent to the ground.
These were trained athletes, in peak condition. Each was able to absorb the other's move and react with one of her own. Each body in balance, and in balance with the other.
As another formidable woman once wrote, "In a fight the adversaries become one, and the two duellists make up a unity," and so it was with Cathy and Emma.
As they grappled, flying through the air and rolling on the floor, one on top and then the other, they were two women forming one whole, yin and yang, blond and brunette, entwined, always together yet constantly in struggle.
Steed watched with fascination as the women threw and rolled each other across the mat, neither gaining more than a momentary advantage before her adversary countered.
After many long minutes of this, the two women found themselves, exhausted, still locked together, standing in the middle of the floor where they'd started. They only result so far was mussed hair.
Cathy looked through blond strands with rage; she was obviously frustrated. This wasn't going as planned.
"What's the matter, Dr. Gale," said Emma, flicking auburn locks out of her face. "Not as easy as the British Amateurs?"
Now Cathy redoubled her effort, desperately trying to overcome Emma, when she found an opening. She was able to cross her right leg over Emma's and throw Emma onto her back with a hiza guruma, or knee wheel.
Too late, she realized, it was a set-up. Emma went down, but at the same time she planted her right foot in Cathy's midsection and, keeping hold of her judogi, flipped Cathy over her head and to the floor with a thud.
Emma jumped up quickly to exploit her advantage, but Cathy was ready. On her back, she launched her right foot over her head, catching Emma square in the face and sending her onto her backside.
Eying each other, the women arose. Now they assumed taekwondo stances; the way of the foot and the fist.
Cathy came with fists flying, a combination right-left-right that Emma deflected. Emma shot up her left foot at Cathy's exposed stomach, only to be blocked by a knee. Cathy spun around to her right, 360 degrees, to deliver a roundhouse kick to Emma's head, hitting only air.
Emma had ducked and, doing her own 360-spin close to the ground, performed a sweep-kick that caught Cathy's planted leg and sent her crashing to the bamboo. With a leap Emma was upon her – only this time she'd been set up.
Cathy caught Emma's lead arm and, pivoting, flung her over her back and to the floor. Emma hit hard, and then received another hard hit: Cathy's diving elbow to her chest.
Now Cathy rolled her body on top of Emma's, pinning her to the ground, and loaded up for a right to the face.
But Emma, lying flat under Cathy's weight, hit her with a short open-handed left. Not enough to do damage, still it knocked Cathy off balance, and Emma used an arm drag to fling her off.
Cathy struggled to get up, and Emma slipped her legs around Cathy's midsection, catching her in a leg scissors. Crossing her feet together, she tightened her legs like a vice around Cathy's stomach.
A guttural "Ugh!" came from Cathy – anger as much as pain. First she'd been frustrated, now she'd been caught in a basic judo move. She was mad.
Cathy's back was to the floor. Emma was on her left side, her right leg over Cathy's stomach and left leg under her back. She squeezed with all her might.
Emma tried to pin Cathy's arms, but Cathy – alert after the first shock – fought back. She was able to spin around inside Emma's scissors, maneuvering so she was face to face with Emma, and above her. Cathy struggled to her knees, all the time Emma applying the vice to her waist, draining her air.
Cathy made it to her feet, grabbed Emma by the front of her judogi, and lifted. Emma, refusing to release the move, found herself hauled up into the air – and then slammed back to the ground, with Cathy atop her.
This produced such a thud, Steed grimaced.
Cathy brought a knee down on Emma's chest – "Ooof!" -- and then swung her left leg under Emma in an attempt at a head scissors. Emma, though stunned, foresaw the move and ducked below Cathy's right leg. Coming up from behind she threw her right arm around Cathy's neck in headlock.
"Grggh!" Cathy spat. "You're like a snake!"
Cathy worked her left arm around Emma's neck, and now the two women were head-locked together -- legs entwined, arms around each others necks, blond and auburn hair mingling, literally face to face.
"I feel I'm getting to know you better now, Dr. Gale," said Emma, her lips nearly touching Cathy's.
"The pleasure," hissed Cathy, "is yours entirely, I'm sure."
The women somehow rolled over, onto their knees, still clutched in mutual headlocks. Their other hands – Emma's left, Cathy's right – were linked together.
Making it to their feet, they pulled their hands apart and started pummeling each other, sending fists into stomachs, chests and poor trapped heads.
The two women held on to each other for dear life as the rain of blows came down. Finally, as if in a synchronized performance, each reared back scored with a shot to the other woman's the jaw.
They flew apart as if an explosion had taken place between them, landing on their backs with a single thud.
"That's GOT to hurt," said Steed, wondering what could happen next.
Each woman rolled, pushed back her hair with a hand, and looked about to see what the hell had just happened. They sighted one another, senses cleared, and up they stood.
Fists clenched, they charged together with a fury. Rights and lefts flew and kicks came from impossible angles. Heads of red and gold danced around the room like two flowers in a violent storm.
But neither could score a knockout, and they found themselves faced off again in the middle of the floor, bruised and breathing hard.
"Ladies, ladies," said Steed, "why don't we just call it a draw? We can talk it out over a spot of tea."
His attempt at mediation was ignored, if it was heard at all. To the two women, there was nothing outside of their own confrontation, their own Unity, and there wouldn't be until it finally was finished, one way or another.
They closed again, fists at the ready. Cathy, so far thwarted by Emma, unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, heavy blows designed to bring a quick end to the fight.
Cathy was like a machine, arms and legs pumping like pistons, forcing Emma to back up under the onslaught. But Emma was deftly able to block or avoid the worst of the attack, and this only made Cathy madder, encouraging her to take more chances.
Seeing an opening, Cathy released a big right uppercut. But Emma felt it coming; she pulled her head back at the last moment. The punch whistled past her face. This left Cathy's midsection wide open, and Emma drilled it with a short left.
"Ooof!"
The punch knocked the air out of Cathy, and Emma took advantage with a solid right to the jaw, knocking Cathy back and down to all fours. She was sucking hard, trying to get her breath back.
As Cathy looked up there was rage in her eyes, and now she made a run at Emma, looking to take her down with brute force. But Emma sidestepped, like a matador, and threw her hip into Cathy's. The blonde crashed head over heels onto the bamboo.
Cathy turned, anger boiling over, but as she stood she was caught with a foot to the face and sent skidding back to the floor. Cathy rolled to her feet, seething, and squared off with Emma. But now her arms heavy and head was ringing.
Emma sensed her advantage and took the fight to her opponent. She peppered Cathy's face with jabs, and buried brutal shots in the midsection. Cathy was doing her best to defend herself while still trying to land a knockout blow.
Emma ducked under a wild right and then, spinning to her own right, did a 360-degree pirouette, delivering a left-footed kick flush to the side of Cathy's head. It hit with a smack of flesh on bone, and now it was Cathy spinning, 180 degrees to her left, where she fell to her knees.
"That's my girl," Steed said to himself.
Cathy made it up to her feet, but Emma – from behind -- threw her right arm around Cathy's neck and squeezed tight with her left—a chokehold. Emma hung on and pushed down, using her height for leverage, trying to drive Cathy to the floor and add her body weight to the move.
Cathy, bucking, let out a howl. She pulled at Emma's arm but couldn't break the grip. Her head pounding and chest tightening, she tried to elbow Emma, then rap her in the face with the back of her hand. Emma expected the moves – all basic -- and avoided them. She continued to tighten the vice and drive Cathy downward.
Frantic, Cathy she reached back, to claw or scratch her opponent, and came away with two handfuls of long hair, She pulled.
"Ay!"
Cathy threw her backside up against Emma, and—digging her hands into those auburn locks—yanked Emma over her shoulder and down to the mat.
Emma landed hard but was able to roll to her feet and turn, quickly taking a defensive posture, before Cathy could pounce. Emma pushed the hair out of
her face, running a hand over her painful scalp.
"So that's how we're going to play, are we?"
Cathy just sneered.
"I'm not playing at all, Mrs. Peel."
Reality Sets In
The women squared off again. Both were breathing hard, sending much-needed oxygen to their exhausted muscles. They were also collecting their thoughts.
For Emma, all doubt was gone that there was no way out of this except by defeating Dr. Gale. This was one crazy bitch. Brilliant, dangerous -- and bonkers.
Just being able to kidnap John Steed—Britain's top and agent and perhaps all-around most capable man—was hard to believe. But then to lure Emma here to with this elaborate plot, all for some twisted quest for revenge.
The depths of this madness, Emma couldn't fathom. But she knew one thing: She had to win, or she—and Steed—would likely never leave this room.
Cathy, too, realized she was in a fight for her life. That chokehold had been too close; a few more seconds, and it would have been over. Had she lost, she would have been facing many, many years behind bars.
Now it wasn't simply about revenge; now it was about survival. She HAD underestimated Emma, and it almost cost her. That would not happen again.
Emma was good, even great, but Cathy was confident in her own skills. She knew she could win if she worked cautiously, stayed to her strengths, and waited to take advantage of her adversary's inevitable mistake.
The women advanced and engaged. Cathy again went on the offensive, but no longer in a head-long rush. There wasn't going to be any quick knockout, she realized. This was going to be a fight of attrition.
So Cathy moved ahead, throwing rights and lefts, kicks and knees, a battering machine. Emma blocked and avoided most of them—Cathy would have admired her skills, had they not been used against her—but some blows were landing. And they were big, heavy blows.
Cathy was going for damage, now. She wanted to inflict as much harm as possible with each blow, and she was concentrating on the midsection. It would take its toll.
Emma countered, matching Cathy blow for blow, but Cathy was content with that exchange. She was delivering the harder shots, and she shrugged off the pain. It inspired her.
Cathy let a left bounce off her head and used the opening to bury a right into Emma's stomach, and then a left.
"Ungh!"
Emma backed up, still blocking and countering, but her shots weren't slowing Cathy at all. Emma tried a punch/snap kick combination, catching Cathy's forehead with the ball of her foot; blond hair flew as her head snapped back. But Cathy went right back into her crouch and, grim-eyed, continued her advance.
Moving, juking, Cathy came forward. She threw a right to the midsection; Emma blocked it with an elbow. As Cathy lined up her left, for another shot to the gut, she saw Emma's right arm come down for the block.
This was her opening.
She continued with her body shot, only re-angling at the last second for an uppercut. So frequent and painful had the gut-blows become, to block this one
Emma had dropped her guard too low. Cathy's left caught her flush under her exposed chin, snapping her head back.
Cathy then buried a right into Emma's stomach, and another left uppercut sent her flying.
Emma twirled away, staying on her feet, with fists up. But she was hurt. She bent over in pain from the body shots. Cathy rushed to take advantage.
She threw a combination to the body, both blocked by Emma, who now saw an opening. She reared back for a hard right cross – she needed to change the odds, fast – but the swing came up empty.
She'd been set up. Cathy ducked the expected right and slammed her right knee up into Emma's exposed midsection, doubling her over. Then she spun in a tight 360, her left elbow landing flush on Emma's face, sending her sprawling to the bamboo.
Cathy leaped in the air and came down with feet aimed at Emma's chest and head – smashing down with a double thud on bamboo as Emma rolled at the last second. From the floor Emma tried another sweep-kick, but this one Cathy saw coming and jumped over.
Landing, she put a swift right kick into Emma's stomach, then sent her back to the bamboo with a left knee to the face.
This time, Cathy leaped and landed with her left foot across Emma's stomach, Cathy's full weight crushing down upon six-pack abs.
Emma jerked up with a scream, and then – with an open-handed right to the forehead from Cathy – slammed back to the bamboo.
Cathy was quickly down to the mat. She grabbed Emma's left arm, then slide her own left leg beneath Emma's arm and head, finally bringing down her right leg to around complete the scissors. She painfully twisted Emma's arm as she squeezed her powerful thighs across Emma's chest and neck. It was a judo submission move.
"You can give up now, Mrs. Peel, and make it a lot easier for yourself," said Cathy. "Just say I'm the better woman."
Cathy arched for all the leverage she could produce, choking off Emma's air.
"Never," Emma hissed.
Cathy's answer was a right-hand punch to Emma's exposed midsection. Now she quickly changed her hold. Removing Emma's arm from inside the scissors, she used Emma's hair to reposition her head directly between her thighs. Then she squeezed.
The women were lying on their left sides, facing the same direction. Cathy above and in front of Emma; Emma's head peeped out from between her thighs. Cathy's left hand was entwined in Emma's hair, keeping her from pulling away. Cathy's right hand held Emma's right arm by the wrist, preventing any offensive move. Emma's left arm was pinned to the ground.
"Who is the better woman, Mrs. Peel?" said Cathy, painfully twisting Emma's auburn locks.
Emma didn't answer. Now Cathy rolled onto her back, bringing Emma with her, and grabbed each of Emma's arms by the wrist. She arched her back, bringing as much pressure to bear on Emma's head as she could.
The women were no more than 10 feet away, and Steed could see Emma's face, red and gasping for breath. "Poor girl," he thought.
"Say I'm the better woman, Mrs. Peel," Cathy repeated.
"Never," was Emma's answer.
Cathy brought the heels of her entwined feet down into Emma's stomach, slamming her to the mat. Cathy rolled over until the two of them were facing the floor. She extended her arms in front of her on the bamboo, then somersaulted – with Emma, still trapped in her head-scissors, coming along for the ride. Emma fly through the air and landed hard, bounced and hit again.
Cathy was immediately upon her. With her right hand she grabbed Emma's right arm and twisted it behind her, then she sunk her left hand into Emma's hair and yanked.
"Get up," said Cathy, literally pulling Emma to her feet by her auburn locks.
Emma tried to pry Cathy's hand out of her hair, but then came the sudden pain in her lower back.
"Oh!"
Then another, and then one in the stomach. Cathy had released Emma's arm and now, still holding her up by the hair, was pummeling Emma with right fists to the body. Emma flailed, trying to stop the battering, but Cathy just hit her again and again.
Finally Emma fell to her knees, Cathy's grip on her hair the only thing keeping her from slipping all the way to the floor.
As Emma kneeled before her, Cathy gathered up Emma's mass of long shiny hair in her hands. She wrapped it tightly in her right hand and hauled Emma back to her feet.
Cathy turned her back to Emma, her right arm bent behind her to keep the grip on Emma's hair, and then snapped her arm forward. Emma came flying over her shoulder, pulled by the hair, her body flipping high into the air.
A hair mare! A move more suited to the professional women's wrestling circuit, perhaps, but Cathy executed it perfectly. Emma could only watch helplessly, and pray for a soft landing, as she went heels over head toward an inevitable meeting with the ground.
She landed on her back with a crash, not soft at all.
Emma lay stretched out on the floor, legs and arms spread at odd angles. Her long hair was splayed around her face like a halo. Her head came up a few inches and then, with a roll of the eyes, fell back down again.
Cathy, sensing the kill, reared back on her right leg, bent forward two hands to the bamboo and kicked. For just a moment, Cathy was "standing" straight up in a handstand above Emma's prone body – they formed an "L." But just for a split second.
Then gravity took hold, and Cathy's body – straight as an arrow, feet first, back to the ground -- gained speed and fell toward Emma, lying face-up, eyes closed, stretched out on the floor.
It was a reverse "big splash," designed to deliver maximum force, with the heaviest and hardest parts of Cathy's body – her hips and back – slamming down onto Emma's exposed underbelly.
In fight circles, the move was known as a "finisher."
