The night before the competition started like any other. Jason climbed the fence into the military base. He finished the assault course in less than seven minutes and made his way to the flight simulator, unaware he was being watched.
While he was flying a helicopter in the simulator, the door burst open. Frozen in panic, Jason didn’t even attempt to struggle as two burly MPs grabbed him and dragged him to a cell in the military police offices. His heart raced. He was terrified of what his father would do when he found out. He was also worried that his father would get into trouble for what he’d done.
“You have been seen sneaking around the base a number of times. We have been getting reports for months now of a young boy running between the buildings. This is a government complex, and it is a high breach of security,” one of his captors informed him.
After ten minutes in a cell, they took him into a small interview room. The room was painted a light gray, and it had no windows.
“What is your name?” the sweatier, heavier MP asked.
Jason was worried. He did not wish to get his father into trouble and did not know how to get out of this. As he looked up through his blond fringe of hair, he replied in Chinese.
“I am John Lennon.” It was the first name that popped into his head.
“Speak English. What is your name?” the MP demanded and banged his hand on the table.
Jason shook his head, as if he did not understand. One MP left and came back a few minutes later with a female MP who had short hair like a man.
“He is not Chinese. Look at him. What is your name, son?” she demanded.
Jason shook his head.
“What is your name?” she asked in Chinese.
“John Lennon,” Jason replied.
“Okay, smart-ass, and I am the queen, and these two officers are Ringo Starr and George Harrison.”
Again, Jason refused to answer.
The overweight MP took a photo.
“Take him to a cell,” he ordered.
As they locked the door, he said, “Just give us your name, and we’ll get your parents and you can go home.”
Jason ignored them. He had to keep this from his father…somehow. It was a square room with a small toilet in the corner, a wooden bunk, and a stained mattress. There was a chair with an orange plastic seat and black metal legs too. Jason paced up and down, trying to think. He knew he had to get out by the morning. If not, Mai Lee and his father would report him missing, and the military police would reveal who they had in custody. He pulled at the bars on the window. As he did, he looked at the screws holding them to the wall.
He looked around the room, picked up the chair, and put it back on the floor on one leg. He used all his weight to try and bend the leg, but it wouldn’t budge. He had been told in school not to rock back on a similar chair because the legs would bend or break.
“That just shows teachers don’t know everything,” he hissed to himself in anger. The more he tried, the angrier he became. He stuck the chair leg against the wall and pushed with his feet by using the end of the bunk. He rocked and used all his strength. Eventually, the thin tubular leg bent.
It took thirty minutes before the constant bending back and forth caused the leg to break, leaving a very sharp edge. Jason pulled the bunk under the window. Standing on the bed and using the broken leg, he managed to unscrew the screws on one of the bars.
Once the bar was down, only the glass held him prisoner. Using the chair, he smashed the window. As he was trying to clear the shards, he could hear the keys in the cell door. He took off his sweater and placed it on the bottom of the window and started to climb out. A hand caught his ankle.
“Gotcha,” came a voice. He pulled Jason back in, but Jason refused to let go of the remaining bars.
He used his other foot to kick the guard in the face, causing him to let go. Jason started to climb back out the window only to see the fat MP outside waiting to catch him. Jason climbed back into the cell. The guard had blood pouring from his nose. Jason ducked down and ran past him. He slammed the cell door and, using the keys still in the lock, trapped the guard in the cell.
As he sprinted down the corridor, he knew he was in big trouble. Another guard came around the corner. Jason ran at him and launched into a flying kick, catching the guard directly in the chest. The guard grabbed at Jason and managed to grab his arm as they both fell to the floor. Jason grabbed the guard’s other hand and bent his fingers back. The guard yelled out in pain and released him.
Furious, the fat MP was now coming in the front door, his nightstick in his hand. Jason ran into the office and picked up a chair and threw it at the window, but to his surprise, the glass didn’t break. From the corner of his eye, Jason saw the fat MP raise his nightstick. Jason dropped to the floor on his hands and spun around, sweeping the legs out from under the MP. As the MP fell to the floor, Jason picked the fire extinguisher off the wall and threw it.
This time, the window gave and sent glass flying outside over another two MPs who were racing to assist. Jason jumped through the window and ran as fast as he could. Two MPs chased Jason on foot while one followed in a Land Rover.
Up ahead, Jason could see the head lamps of another MP’s Land Rover heading directly toward him. Jason kept sprinting straight at the vehicle. He knew he had to get to the assault course, as they could not drive there. With just a few feet to spare, Jason turned off the road onto the course. Six MPs climbed out of the Land Rovers and chased him on foot.
Jason knew every inch of the course and was used to being here after dark. He had the upper hand. When he disappeared into the shadows with a surge of confidence, he lost them.
Minutes later, he climbed the fence into his yard and retreated back into his bedroom window. He had to put a hand over his mouth, for he was panting so loudly. His bare chest was scratched and cut, and his pants were ripped. He took them off to discover a large cut on his thigh, probably caused by the glass in the cell window.
After a half hour, the camp alarm was turned off. Eventually, Jason got his breath back, but it would be hours before he stopped shaking.
***
The next morning, as Jason was getting dressed, his father came to see him. Jason grabbed his bed sheet and covered his cut and bruised body.
“What’s wrong, son?”
Jason paused. He could not let his father see his cuts and bruises. “I’m naked.”
“So?” Ray asked, looking puzzled.
“I am…” Jason said, trying to think of something to say, “I’m getting older now. I don’t burst into your room, Dad.”
Ray nodded and left him alone.
When Jason finally came out of his room, his father told him that he had to go into work this morning for a few hours and he would see Jason at the competition.
***
When Ray later arrived at the entrance of HMS Tamar, he noticed a photo of his son at the entrance to the guardhouse—one that was blurred and taken at night. Because he did not want to give Jason away, he asked who it was. The guard shrugged and gestured to another MP who came out to greet him.
“Hello, Lieutenant Steed. A boy has been seen sneaking around the base. He has been using the flight simulator and God knows what else he has been doing. He was arrested last night and put in a cell. He broke out. He broke this office window and a cell window. An MP is in the hospital with a broken nose, and another has a broken finger,” the lieutenant replied, pointing at the broken window.
“Do you know who he is?” Ray asked.
“He spoke Chinese and gave his name as John Lennon. Ha! I will get to the bottom of it and track him down. When I do, he will be charged with spying, trespassing, damaging HM property, and probably assault charges.”
Ray knew he had to try and cover this up. He would deal with Jason later. He told the lieutenant to sit down. “This could be a major embarrassment for you and your unit. Are you telling me that you could not hold a child of what? Nine or ten in your cells? That he over
powered all your guards and still managed to get away? What if this was a real spy from Russia? China? How will it make us look?”
The lieutenant fidgeted nervously. “Yes, you have a point. What do you suggest?”
“Destroy the pictures, clean the files, and reprimand your MP who let a child escape. Improve security on the camp and ensure no one else can break in and use the flight simulator. That thing costs millions.” Ray’s voice hardened. “It’s pathetic that we have allowed a child to come and play on it like a toy.”
The lieutenant agreed and slunk off after a sorry salute. Ray was furious. He phoned home, but Jason had already left for the competition.
He rubbed his eyes and then hung up, feeling strangely empty. What kind of father am I? he wondered.
Chapter Five
Jason hurried through his crowded neighborhood to the competition, already wearing his gi. Many of the local businessmen and women who had watched him grow up spoke Chinese to him and wished him well. He smiled back, but he was exhausted. He had bruised his head. His leg was in pain from the deep gash, and he was still worried about the previous night. What if someone saw him on the street and recognized him? But he was looking forward to showing his father his karate skills. This alone kept him going.
The tournament hall was packed with various karate teams from different dojos. Some press people and the local TV company were there. Jason found Wong Tong on the bleachers and wearily sat beside him. When it was Jason’s turn to fight, he won each round, although he could see concern in Wong Tong’s face. Jason knew his own heart wasn’t in the moment. He kept watching the door, waiting for his father to show up.
The jujitsu group sat opposite Wong Tong’s dojo. The grand master wore a black robe embroidered with gold dragons. Jet Chan, although older and much larger than Jason, was in the same category.
Jason wore a white headband with the colors of the British flag. Its sole purpose was to keep his hair out of his eyes. His speed and natural ability usually gave him an edge over his opponents. He had practiced his katas so many times that he could do them blindfolded. Besides, most of his opponents only studied one style, such as kung fu or tae kwon do. Jason would now face Jet Chan in the final round.
The two waited half an hour for their turn. Ray had still not shown up when Jason and Jet were called to the floor.
The two kids stood opposite each other. Jet Chan looked at Jason and smirked. “I have been waiting for this.”
With that, Jet launched into a flying kick. Jason instantly stood aside and blocked it. Several hand strikes followed. When Jet Chan swept Jason’s feet away from him, causing him to crash to the floor, he landed heavily on his cut leg. Jet pounced and held his fist inches from Jason’s face. The referee raised his hand. It was one point to Jet Chan.
Again, Jason looked over at the door. Where is Dad? He promised he would come and watch me. Everyone else has parents, grandparents, brothers, and sisters watching. Dad knows how important this is to me. Maybe he just doesn’t care.
The pair bowed and began again. Jason went through the motions of defense but failed to attack. In close contact, Jet head-butted Jason, knocking him to the floor. The crowd hissed. The referee shook his head and waved both hands. Jet was given a strike for a foul.
One more and he would be disqualified. Wong Tong ran into the ring with a towel and wiped the blood coming from Jason’s nose. “You stop now. You no good today to fight.”
Jason glanced at the jujitsu group, and they were all laughing. The grand master shook his head.
Wong Tong noticed and was furious. He grabbed his arm and led Jason to the corner, and for the first time in five years, Wong Tong raised his voice at Jason. “Until now, I say nothing. Now I tell you. Grand master is no good. Wong Tong ‘whips’ him many years ago. Your father—he no good. He not come. You can’t win for him. You can’t win to prove a point to grand master. You can only win for one person: Jason Steed.” Wong Tong continued, “So, you quit now and stop waste of my time or you win for Jason Steed.”
Jason stood quietly wiping the blood from his face, looking at Wong Tong. He had grown very close to him and had never seen him so angry before. Most of all, he was annoyed with himself—the thought that he had upset his faithful teacher.
“Has it stopped bleeding?” Jason asked.
“Yes, you bleed no more. So, you quit or fight for you, Jason, no one else.”
Jason nodded, energy coursing through his veins. He loved karate, and if his dad didn’t, then so be it. He passed the towel back to Wong Tong. “Thank you,” he said in Chinese, bowing his head.
The crowd fell silent as Jason walked over to his corner. He took off his headband and shook his blond hair across his eyes and then crouched into a fighting position. The referee wiped the blood from the floor and stood back. With clenched fists, Jason squinted through his bangs.
His adrenaline pulsed. All he could hear was his own heartbeat as he balanced lightly on his toes. Jet Chan was still smiling. The referee shouted “Go,” and they both stood motionless. Jason moved forward to do a very basic tae kwon do kick. He knew how Jet would defend, but at the last second, Jason spun around and hit out with a punch he had learned from kung fu. The punch landed squarely on Jet Chan’s surprised nose. Blood splattered Jason and the referee. Jet fell back to the floor with blood running from his nose. He thumped the ground in temper.
“Foul!” shouted the referee.
Jason was now also given a warning—still one point down. Jason looked back at Wong Tong and winked with a smirk on his face. Wong Tong nodded and smirked back.
Again, the opponents stood ready to fight. At the word “Go,” a very angry Jet launched into a flying kick. Jason dove to the floor, rolling over and springing back to his feet with a return kick. Jet blocked the kick and tried to sweep Jason’s feet away from him. Jason jumped clear and then sprang back with a high kick back, catching Jet’s chest. The referee raised his hand. It was now one point each.
The next to score a point would win. The grand master looked on, annoyed. He stood with his arms folded and glanced over at Wong Tong, who smiled and nodded in delight.
Jason now attacked. He used tae kwon do, kung fu, and Shotokan. He even threw in some judo maneuvers to confuse Jet.
Because he found it so hard to defend against moves he had not seen before, Jet used his height and reach as an advantage over his younger and smaller opponent. He did not want to get in close quarters with Jason. He now realized that Jason was far too fast for him. They sparred for several long minutes. Jet desperately tried to keep Jason at bay. He could not see Jason’s eyes hiding beneath his long bangs. They exchanged punch after punch and a variety of kicks. Jason’s forearms became numb with the constant blocks from Jet’s attacks. His nose had started to bleed again. His white gi was now splattered with his and Jet’s blood. It became heavy with moisture as it soaked up sweat.
The excited audience stood up and cheered the two fighters on. The final fight in the competition had turned out to be a spectacular event.
Jet tried an illegal high kick to Jason’s neck. Jason turned, and it caught his shoulder; however, he returned at lightning speed with a sweep of his own. Jet’s legs were sent high in the air as he fell to the floor. Jason jumped on him heavily, landing his knee into Jet’s chest. He punched at Jet’s throat—a move that could have been fatal—but stopped an inch from Jet’s windpipe.
The referee raised his hand and pointed at Jason.
The crowd erupted in applause. Wong Tong and students from his dojo ran into the ring. Jason gave Jet Chan his hand and helped him up. With a nod of respect, Jet then gave a bow of recognition to Jason.
His father may not have been there to see it, but that was his loss. Jason knew that he had won more than just a silver trophy.
***
When he arrived home, Jason barely had the energy to push open the stiff front door. “Dad?” he called.
“In here,” Ray barked from his room.
> Jason found his father packing a suitcase. “Dad, look—I won the competition. I won this.” He held out his trophy with a smile on his face.
Ray ignored him at first. The room went quiet. Jason was unsure what to expect. Then, Ray placed a folded piece of paper in Jason’s free hand. He put down his trophy and opened a copy of the picture the MPs had taken the previous night. Ray looked at Jason and raised his eyebrows, looking for an explanation. It did not come.
Ray swung the back of his hand at Jason’s face. Jason raised his forearm and blocked it, but his father’s weight and momentum pushed Jason to the floor.
“You are fast,” Ray muttered. He let out a long, deep breath. “Listen to me. You lied to me. You have shown me that I can’t trust you. You have really disappointed me, son. I don’t really care you broke in and played around on an assault course or that you broke into the flight simulator room. You’re a ten-year-old boy. I would expect something like that. But why did you lie to me? Why did you betray me?”
Jason felt tears stinging his eyes. He opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat.
“We can’t go on living here,” his father continued. “I was going to tell you that I had planned to stay here full time and be home every night. I was offered a position at Tamar. However, now I have been forced to take another position, thanks to you. I can’t risk you getting spotted by an MP. I have taken a new position on HMS Ark Royal. I will be away probably as much as I am now. It is based in Portsmouth, England. That’s why I am packing. We leave for London in the morning.” He bit his lip and shook his head. “You look a bloody mess. Take a shower and get to bed.”
Jason was so exhausted that it didn’t really sink in that he was actually leaving Hong Kong and everything he knew. His gi bottoms had stuck to his cut leg. His nose was hurting, and his arms and legs were bruised everywhere from the blocks he had made during the competition. The adrenaline he’d used for his fight had sapped every ounce of energy that had remained.
After a shower, he climbed out, slipped, fell on the wet floor, and caught his head on the wall. He felt light-headed, and he was unable to get up. Reluctantly, he called his father.