Max Arena (7 page)

‘Protection.’

‘Why do I need
protection?’

‘Well, like you
said, the crime rate is up because of this alien invasion stuff and
I can offer you protection from all that. I can keep you safe all
the way through this thing, right up until the arena duel on New
Year’s Eve and maybe after that too if needed. The best of
protection too. Not just a hideout or something, but
real
protection. Full military detail. The real deal. As good as the
Prime Minister gets. In fact,
exactly
what the Prime
Minister gets.’

Kris squinted
back. ‘Okay, so let’s assume you know what you’re talking about and
I get this protection, as good as the Prime Minister gets,’ she
said slowly, ‘but what do I have to do for you?’

‘This is going
to sound weird,’ Elsa said, ‘but I need you to train my husband. I
need you to be his personal trainer for the next six months and I
mean full on training. Weights. Stamina. Functional fitness. The
lot and multiple sessions every day and in whatever creative ways
you can imagine. If you can do that for me, I can guarantee the
best protection you can imagine, regardless of how bad things might
get.’

Kris paused
then said, ‘You’re right. That does sound weird. The world’s going
to hell and you’ll keep me safe if I train your husband? None of
that makes any sense.’

Elsa nodded and
put her coffee down on the table. ‘I knew this would be too hard to
explain, so let me just show you what’s going on here.’

‘Show me what?’
Kris asked as she watched Elsa pull out her phone and quickly type
in a message. ‘Who are you texting?’

Elsa finished
typing the message and put the phone down. ‘Watch the door,’ she
said, flicking her head sideways.

Kris snapped
her gaze up to the entry as it swung open and in walked two men in
cotton trousers and polo shirts. They weren’t big men, but they
were not small either and then it slammed into her and she sat bolt
upright. Both men had gun holsters strapped around their torsos.
They were armed!

The cafe owner
instinctively jumped up from his seat behind the counter with a
menu in hand, only to be greeted in return by one of the men
holding up a hand that very clearly indicated they were not there
to dine. The owner froze, slipped his gaze down onto their weapons
and then slowly retreated back to his stool, like a tabby cat
confronted with a full blown lion.

‘It’s okay,
Kris,’ Elsa said. ‘The guys with the guns are with me. They’re
friends.’

Kris continued
to eye off both men as they scanned the room and then split up to
position themselves on opposite sides of the interior, their hands
clasped together in front of them.

‘They’re really
with you?’ Kris asked, her eyes still wide.

‘Yes, they
are,’ Kris answered. ‘These guys are part of the protection I was
talking about. I know it’s confronting, but they’re here to keep us
safe, so try not to worry about them.’

Kris eased
herself back in her chair, still eyeing off the armed newcomers.
‘Easy for you to say,’ she said. ‘Is this what you needed to show
me. Your armed escort?’

Elsa shook her
head. ‘No. There’s something else. You know the images of that face
that have been scratched into the Himalayas and the Sahara?’

‘Yeah,’ Kris
replied. ‘Of course I do. They’re all over the internet.’

‘Pull one of
them up on your iPad.’

‘Why?’ Kris
asked, her squint returning.

‘It’s time for
the main part of the show and how I explain what I’m talking
about.’

Kris eyed Elsa
from across the table and then flicked her gaze back to the two
silent guards at each end of the room. Slowly, she retrieved her
iPad to open an internet browser. Searching under images, she
easily found a plethora of pictures depicting the mysterious
stranger’s face scribed onto various landscapes around the
world.

‘Okay?’ Kris
said. ‘Which image do you want?’

‘Whatever one
is clearest.’

Kris scrolled
the screen up a few flicks and then tapped on one of the little
pictures.

‘Okay. Now
what?’ Kris asked, looking up to see Elsa tapping a button on her
phone.

‘Look down at
your image and then watch the door again,’ Elsa said simply,
picking up her latte and leaning back in her own chair, taking a
slow sip, her gaze locked onto Kris over the rim of the mug.

Kris turned her
attention back to the door. Silence filled the room. She shot a
couple of sideways glances at the two burly men while she waited.
Elsa continued to take long sips of her drink, not shifting her
gaze from Kris. Then the door opened and Kris flicked her eyes back
up in that direction as in walked another man.

In contrast,
this man was solidly built in his shorts and t-shirt, but he also
looked familiar.
Very
familiar, almost like she had just
been looking at him and then, like a wave surging up onto the
beach, recognition built. Kris’ eyes widened. The wave surged
higher and as it peaked, Kris’ brain locked onto the detail of the
face.

Quickly she
glanced down at her iPad and the wave crashed and broke. The man in
the doorway and the image on the screen shared the same face. It
was
him
. It was the stranger the aliens had come to fight
and he was standing right here in front of her.

‘Kris?’ Elsa
said gently. ‘I’d like you to meet my husband Max and yes, he’s the
one whose face is scratched into the north face of Mount
Everest.’

Kris stared
glassy eyed at Max, her face blank and her mouth open. Max cast a
glance down at Elsa who looked back up and waved for him to sit
down next to her. As Max sat down, Kris’ stare followed him.

‘Kris, I need
you to...,’ Elsa started.

‘Why
you
?’ Kris cut in, her eyes large.

Max held Elsa’s
boggling gaze for a moment and then looked sideways at Elsa who
tried to rescue him.

‘Kris, I need
to explain...’ Elsa started again.

‘Why do the
aliens want
you
?’ Kris asked, her entire focus squared on
Max through her wide eyes.

Elsa opened her
mouth to speak, but Max laid a hand on her thigh. She looked across
at her husband and he nodded. She closed her mouth.

Turning back to
Kris, Max said, ‘Kris, I’m not ready to tell you that. Let’s be
clear. My wife trusts you and that means I trust you, but
I
don’t know you nearly well enough to trust you with that particular
secret, yet.’

Kris stayed
silent, searching Max’s face for something. Then she leaned back in
her chair, her composure returning. Looking down at the table, she
recollected herself, the silence in the cafe almost overwhelmed by
the turning cogs of her mind.

‘Okay,’ she
finally said, shaking her head slightly. ‘There’s a lot going on
here, so let me get this straight? You want
me
to train
you
and in return, you’ll give me protection up until you go
into the arena?’

‘Yes,’ Elsa
said, resuming control of the conversation. Max sat back a little.
‘The same protection the Prime Minister gets.’

‘What does that
mean? The same as the Prime Minister gets?’

‘You could say
Joseph Tollsen is our sponsor. That’s who these guys are,’ Elsa
replied, waving her hand at the two burly men inside the cafe with
them. They’re from the Prime Minister’s own personal detail and
they’re assigned to protecting Max and I and the kids and if you
help us, they’ll protect you too.’

Kris shook her
head. ‘Hold on. I’m really struggling with this. Fine you’ll
protect me, but why do you want
me
to train Max? Max needs
combat training. Weapons training and all that sort of stuff. I
don’t do any of that. I do basic functional fitness, so
surely
, the Prime Minister can give you someone out of the
army or the SAS that would be better for what he needs? Why
me
?’

Max leaned
forward, resting his forearms on the table. ‘We trust you, Kris.
Simple as that. Elsa and I don’t make friends easily. We never have
and we’ve never needed to. We have each other and our children and
that’s enough for us, but like I said, we trust you.’

‘But I make
Elsa do a few burpees and squat jumps. That’s all. You’re a fit
looking guy, Max. You don’t need burpees. You need gladiator stuff
and you won’t get that from me.’

‘Kris, believe
me when I say I know how to fight. I don’t need you to teach me how
to defend myself or use a weapon. It’s in my blood. Don’t ask why.
It just is. As for being fit? Yes, I’m naturally pretty fit, but
pretty fit is nowhere near good enough for what I need to do. I
need someone to make me faster, stronger and just plain better and
Elsa thinks you can do that. You’ve done it for her and she thinks
you can do it for me, so Kris, we’re asking you to help us because
right now, you’re the only person in the world we can trust with
this, so how about it?’

Kris sat mute.
The cogs in her mind had ratcheted up. Max leaned back. Elsa looked
on. Several seconds of silence stretched out and then Kris spoke
again.

‘Alright, maybe
I can train you,’ she said, ‘but there’s one thing you have to do
for me first.’

‘What’s that?’
Max asked.

‘You said you
think you’re pretty fit? Is that right?’ she asked.

Max nodded.

‘Well,’ Kris
replied, ‘prove it.’

Ten minutes
later, Max, Elsa and Kris were walking down towards the other end
of the shopping village to Kris’ gym, a six man security detail
surrounding them. Peter led the group, his eyes never stationary,
while his team walked equally spaced at a few metres distance
around the civilian trio. The entourage crossed paths with only two
other people on their short walk, causing each individual to shy
back against the wall to let them pass.

Within the
confines of the security ring, Max now carried a black sports bag
in one hand and Elsa’s hand in the other. Just in front of them,
Kris walked stiffly along, her eyes darting back and forth between
Peter and the members of his team that walked in her field of
vision.

When they
reached the front door of the gym, Peter stopped and turned, the
rest of his team stopping simultaneously with him, maintaining
their formation. Peter indicated for Kris to open the door.
Retrieving a swipe card, she deactivated the lock.

One of Peter’s
team members immediately reached forward and opened the door,
allowing Peter to briskly step inside, a second team member
slipping in behind him. Everyone else stayed put. As the silent
seconds ticked by, Kris darted her gaze around the ring of
remaining security. Then the man holding the door open twitched his
head slightly as a message crackled in his ear piece.

‘It’s clear,’
he said. ‘You can go in.’ Kris paused. ‘You can go in
now
,
please.’

The tone
stirred Kris into action and she stepped inside. Max let Elsa go in
next and then followed suit. The four remaining guards stayed
outside to take up sentry positions, their presence as nondescript
as tanks parked on a regular suburban street.

Once inside,
Kris noticed that Peter and the other guard had positioned
themselves strategically on opposing sides of the gym. The interior
was not overly large and right now it was completely void of any
other patrons. One third of the space stood filled with an orderly
collection of cardio equipment; treadmills, rowing machines,
cross-trainers and bike machines all lined up in rows, shoulder to
shoulder. The second third of the space hosted an assortment of
weights machines comprising pulleys and stacks of rectangular slabs
of grey iron, clearly designed to work every inch of the body. The
final third of the gym was reserved for free weights. An expansive,
floor to ceiling mirror filled the length of the wall with a
rubberised mat stretched across the floor in front of it. A double
rack of dumbbells and barbells stood against the mirror and a row
of benches lined the centre of the mat. All in all, it was a pretty
standard, contemporary gym. Neat, tidy and functional.

Kris stood
transfixed just inside the entry.

‘What do you
want us to do?’ Elsa asked gently.

Kris stirred
and turned around. ‘Um, get changed I guess,’ she said.

Max looked
around the room.

‘Over there in
the corner,’ Kris added, motioning to a door on the far side of the
room. ‘Meet you back here.’

Max nodded and
made his way to the change room. A minute later he came back out
dressed all in black in an Adidas training tank top and black
shorts, but the most striking things were his shoes. Bright orange
Nike Frees with blue laces and matching blue swoosh.

Kris arched an
eyebrow as she looked him up and down. ‘Nice bling,’ she said. ‘I
hope your moves are as flash as your shoes, big guy?’

Kris stepped
across and laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder. ‘You’re just
jealous,’ she replied, ‘because he’s got brighter shoes than
you.’

Glancing down
at her own red Nikes with yellow laces, Kris nodded. ‘You got that
right. Not happy.’

Max and Elsa
looked at each other. Suddenly, a sharp clap brought their gazes
back round to Kris.

‘Enough gas
bagging,’ Kris shot out. ‘Let’s get busy. First, let’s see how well
you bench. Ditch the bag and come with me.’

Max obeyed,
pushing his bag into a niche in the nearby open lockers and then
following Kris through the gym to the free weights area. Elsa
followed at a distance. Once on the rubber mat, Kris dragged the
benches out of the way and turned to face Max.

‘First trick.
How many push ups can you do?’ she asked curtly.

‘Don’t know,’
Max replied. ‘Never tried.’

‘Give me ten to
start, but if you can do twenty, even better.’