The Black Coats(17)
“You’re down,” spoke a soft voice. “That’s for not noticing your surroundings.” Sahil turned away, and Thea gulped in the air around her, her lungs feeling like cracked timber. She raised her head, one arm curled around her stomach.
Nixon and Sahil were advancing on Bea, who simply put her hands up in surrender. “Nope. I’m down.” She got on her knees before lying facedown on the ground, her words muffled by the mat. “No croissant is worth that.” Nixon grinned as she patted Bea’s head once before making her way over to the table. Sahil followed her, stepping over all the members of Team Banner.
“Stand up,” their president ordered. Nixon padded over to the glasses of water, grabbing one for herself before gnashing her teeth into the croissant. “Mmm. These are good. Kennedy is a killer baker.” She wiped her mouth with her hand. “Now, ladies, what went wrong here?”
“Everything,” Casey muttered. “Also, you had help, which wasn’t fair.”
“No?” Nixon raised her eyebrows. “It’s absolutely fair that I brought in Sahil. You know why? Because Sahil is part of my team. You know what resource you never thought to use? Your team. You are still thinking like individuals. I never told you that you had to fight me one at a time. In fact, I didn’t tell you any rules at all. You were too worried about being polite. You don’t want to look bossy or say the wrong thing. But here, at the Black Coats, we don’t have time for that timid female crap. You lost badly, but even worse, you abandoned one another as you watched me take down your teammates. One of you at a time, I can take, maybe even two . . .” She winked at Louise. “But all five of you I would not have been able to control. That’s what makes your team so important.” She finished guzzling her water and brushed off her pants. “Now, I want you to try again, and this time, I want you to think and move as if you have five distinct talents.”
“Some of us do, anyway,” muttered Mirabelle, eyeing Bea.
Nixon clapped. The girls came closer. Sahil stepped up beside her.
Thea straightened up. Someone needed to take charge here, and it might as well be her. She had to redeem herself after the awkward scene in the hallway. “Team Banner! Come here.” They clustered around Thea as she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Louise, you take Nixon first—you can keep her occupied for a minute or so at least. Casey, Mirabelle, you take Sahil. You won’t be able to fight him, but you can at least hold on to him, maybe weigh him down? Casey, go for his legs; Mirabelle, you try to hold his arms. Nixon said you were strong—let’s see it. Bea and I will go for the water. We’ll flank one on each side. Okay?”
The girls nodded, all except for Bea, who closed her eyes for a long moment as her hands fiddled under her long sleeves.
The girls turned back to Nixon and Sahil, who at the sight of the girls seemed as amused as lions watching antelopes make a plan. Nixon grinned. “Team Banner, are you ready? This time I’d like—”
Thea shouted “Go!” in the middle of Nixon’s statement, catching her off guard. The girls swarmed forward. Mirabelle tackled Sahil. He was up in a second, but then Casey was waiting for him and pushed him backward, the weight of Mirabelle holding him down. Thea was running. She passed Sahil and was getting close to the table, where Louise and Nixon were fighting hard. Louise was losing fast; Nixon was fighting dirty, and Louise’s martial-arts training had not prepared her for that. Suddenly, Bea appeared in front of Nixon. “What are you doing?” shouted Thea. This wasn’t the plan.
“Hold her arms, Louise. Behind her. Now,” Bea requested quietly. Louise, confused, twisted both of Nixon’s arms behind her, thrusting Nixon out in front of her, one foot planted in the middle of her back. Bea stepped forward, moving her hands back and forth in front of Nixon’s eyes, like the pendulum of a clock. When she spoke, her voice stopped Thea in her tracks. It was like a river running down a mountainside, a soothing rumble of power, so different from the meek voice Thea had heard earlier.
They all watched Bea in silence as her hands kept moving back and forth in front of Nixon’s eyes, her voice lulling them into motionless awe. “You will reach out your hand.” Nixon straightened. “Watch my hands. Watch how they move. You are safe with me, Nixon. I am going to take care of you. You can trust me. Are you watching them? Now reach out your hand.” Louise let go of her arm, and Nixon reached out. Casey gasped. “Now press your hand against my hand.” She repeated the order several times. Nixon’s hand began trembling, but finally she did what Bea said, laying her palm across Bea’s. “Now close your eyes. Press on my hand and close your eyes.”
Nixon’s eyes closed. When they did, Bea jerked her hand away quickly and violently, while at the same time ordering: “Sleep.” As her hand fell swiftly away from Bea’s, Nixon fell sideways, her body following her arm, her face hitting the mat with a soft bounce. “You are falling, deeper and deeper,” Bea whispered as she crouched over her. “Deeper and deeper.” Nixon didn’t move, though the rise and fall of her chest showed that she was, as Bea had commanded, deeply asleep.
Bea walked forward and picked up one of the croissants, looking at it for a moment before taking a huge bite. The team watched in silence as she ate the croissant and drank the water, wiping her mouth messily on her sleeve when she was done. Then she turned back to their president, unconscious on the ground. Bea snapped her fingers. “Wake up!”