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fall
properly, so you don't hurt yourself landing. Then we move on to stances, hand
positions and kicks. One step at a time."
    She swept her arm
past her hip and threw herself down on her side, falling with a loud thud but
landing neatly. Beside her, Stevie was going at it with a vengeance and laughing gleefully.
    "Am I doing it right?" she
puffed, already perspiring. She was very
much out of condition, despite the work she did around the house.
    He nodded. "Very
nice. Be careful about falling too close to the edge of the mat, though. The
floor's hard."
    She moved further onto the mat and did it again.

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    MERCENARY'S WOMAN
    DIANA PALMER
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"If you think these are fun," he
mused, "wait until we do forward
breakfalls."
    She gaped at him.
"You mean I'm going to have to fall deliberately on my face? I'll break ray
nose!"
    "No, you won't," he said, moving her aside. "Watch."
    He executed the
movement to perfection, catching his weight neatly on his hands and forearms. He
jumped up again.
"See? Simple."
    "For you,"
she agreed, her eyes on the muscular body that was as fit as that of a man half his
age. "Do you train all the time?"
    "I have to,"
he said. "If I let myself get out of shape, I won't be of any use to my students. Great job,
Stevie," he called to the boy, who
beamed at him.
    "Of course he's
doing a great job," she muttered. "He's so close to the ground already
that he doesn't have far to fall!"
    "Poor old lady," he chided gently.
    She glared in his
direction as she swept her arm forward and threw herself down again. "I'm not
old. I'm just out of condition."
    He looked at her,
sprawled there on the mat, and his lips pursed as he sketched every inch of her.
"Funny, I'd have said you were in prime condition. And not just for karate."
    She cleared her
throat and got to her feet again. "When did you start learning this
stuff?"
    "When I was in
grammar school," he said. "My father taught me."
    "No wonder it looks so easy when you do it."
    "I train hard. It's saved my life a few times."
    She studied his scarred face with
curiosity. She could see the years in it,
and the hardships. She knew very little about military operations, except for what she'd seen in
    movies and on television. And as Jess had told
her, it wasn't
like that in real life. She tried to imagine an armed adversary coming at her and she stiffened.
    "Something wrong?" he asked gently.
    "I was trying to imagine being
attacked," she said. "It makes me nervous."
    "It won't, when
you gain a little confidence. Stand up straight," he said. "Never walk
with your head down in a
slumped posture. Always look as if you know where you're going, even if you don't. And always, always, run if you can. Never stand and fight unless you're
trapped and your life is in danger."
    "Run? You're kidding, of course?"
    "No," he
said. "I'll give you an example. A man of any size and weight on drugs is more
than a match for any three other men. What I'm going to teach you might work on an untrained
adversary who's sober. But a man who's been drinking, or especially a man who's
using drugs can kill you outright, regardless of what I can teach you. Don't you ever forget that. Overconfidence
kills."
    "I'll bet you
don't teach your men to run," she said accusingly.
    His eyes were quiet
and full of bad memories. "Sally, a recruit in one of my groups emptied the
magazine of his rifle into an enemy soldier on drugs at point-blank range. The enemy kept right
on coming. He killed the recruit before he finally fell dead himself."
    Her lower
jaw fell.
    "That was my
reaction, too," he informed her. "Absolute disbelief. But it's true.
If anyone high on drugs comes at you, don't try to reason with him...you can't. And don't try to
fight him. Run like hell. If a full automatic clip won't bring a man down, you
certainly can't. Neither can even a combat-hardened man, alone. In that sort of

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    MERCENARY'S WOMAN
    DIANA PALMER
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situation, it's just basic common
sense to get out of the way as quickly