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       "Where did she learn to fight so hard?" I asked: placing the chubby strawberries into the
pudding.
       "You can't learn that.  I also once asked her about it. She told me   - it's easy  - it's
like dancing."
       "Yes: it is:"    I said to myself as the savage passo doble started up again on the dance
floor.
       There was a new lightning-quick feline aggression in Alia's movements: and Commander John
understood: that if he wanted to win: he had to completely forget that he was facing a woman.
       Butterfly's sky blue shirt:   which took on a light pinkish tinge during the first round:
was stained with some bright red islands and landmasses in the first minute of the second.
       Moray's skipper paid for torn eyebrow  with his bloody nose:  and ugly abrasion under his
right ear was redeemed on the other side by split lip.   The late retreat from the epicenter was
paid for by the torn referee's bow tie.
       John then managed to grab Alia above the waist: drop her to the ground and immobilize her
in a stranglehold. 
       The fight moved to the floor.
       Slowly: millimeter by millimeter: Alia's hand was reaching for his forearm       - it was
breathtaking to watch: how he tried in vain not to let her to do it.
       Suddenly she grabbed him and rolled him onto his side.
       He hit her in the face.
       She clutched his wrist:  struck him to the chin: wrapped her legs around him: and turning
with him another hundred and eighty degrees.
       He was shaken by her blow  and the hard impact:  but certainly had no intention of giving
up - he quickly hit her in the ribs:  by using a deft move:  he slip out of  the embrace  of her
legs and choke her again - this time twisting her left arm painfully.
       Alia's situation turned hopeless in the blink of an eye.
       At that moment:  when she was in a mortal struggle: when it seemed: that she was despera-
tely fighting for her bare life  - then without warning: Lena's darkness: from the day I cleaned
her wounds: visited me again.
       It flooded my borrowed body: took over it: slowly lifted my hands to Lena's slender nape:
 and disappeared just before it touched her.
       Alia swung her pelvis up -  by dislocating her left shoulder:  she freed herself from the
commander's vise - with the help of hugging her knees: she threw him over and ruthlessly delive-
red two brutal right hooks to his jaw.
       He remained lying motionless.
       Everything fell silent.
       She stood up:     took a few wobbly steps:   and then knelt on the ground again:  next to
Butterfly: who was carefully trying to pull the commander from unconsciousness.
       The commander moved.
       Alia leaned her face towards him: said something to him:  kissed his cheek and helped him
up.
       "We will fight!" :she roared: raising her arm  and aimed her fist against the rising tide
of rapturous fervor.