Shields of the Unbroken - Pitman, Dave
45,99 €
inkl. MwSt.
Versandkostenfrei*
Versandfertig in über 4 Wochen
payback
23 °P sammeln
  • Broschiertes Buch

Shields of the Unbroken: Krav Maga Revolutions Chapter 1: Against the Wall The air inside the old, dimly lit gym hung thick with the scent of rubber mats, chalk, and the faint, metallic hint of sweat. Ari stood near the corner, his back against the chipped wall as his gaze drifted over the half-empty room. Once, this place had been his sanctuary-a place where the sound of fists hitting bags drowned out the noise in his head. Now, it felt almost foreign, an echo of something lost. It had been three years since he'd last stepped foot in Dalia's gym. Three years since his last deployment, and two…mehr

Andere Kunden interessierten sich auch für
Produktbeschreibung
Shields of the Unbroken: Krav Maga Revolutions Chapter 1: Against the Wall The air inside the old, dimly lit gym hung thick with the scent of rubber mats, chalk, and the faint, metallic hint of sweat. Ari stood near the corner, his back against the chipped wall as his gaze drifted over the half-empty room. Once, this place had been his sanctuary-a place where the sound of fists hitting bags drowned out the noise in his head. Now, it felt almost foreign, an echo of something lost. It had been three years since he'd last stepped foot in Dalia's gym. Three years since his last deployment, and two since he'd left the military altogether. Ari didn't even remember what had drawn him back tonight. Maybe it was the need to feel something real, something that didn't exist in memories that haunted him every night. A shout broke his thoughts. He looked up to see a small group of people-ordinary men and women, with ordinary lives, ordinary problems-circling Dalia as she demonstrated a technique. Her movements were sharp and precise, honed by years of practice and an instinct Ari knew well. She was giving her usual spiel on reaction time and situational awareness, teaching them how to break free from holds, block a punch, evade a knife. He could practically recite her words with her, even from across the room. "Every second counts," she was saying. "Every decision you make, every hesitation or misstep could be the difference between getting home safe and..." Her voice trailed off, and her gaze flicked to the door, where Ari still lingered. She hadn't changed much since he'd last seen her. Same fierce eyes, same wiry strength in her stance. Dalia was a survivor, through and through. And Ari knew her enough to see the surprise flicker across her face as she recognized him. "Ari?" she called out, her voice softer, carrying over the low hum of the room. He shifted under her gaze, feeling like an outsider in a place that used to feel like home. "Yeah. Thought I'd drop by." The students exchanged curious glances as she waved him over. "Everyone, take five," she ordered, her eyes never leaving him. As he crossed the room, he caught snippets of hushed conversations. They were all wondering who he was, maybe guessing he was another student, or a friend of Dalia's. But to him, they looked so... unscarred. Untouched by anything close to the life he'd lived. Ordinary. "You're a hard man to track down, Ari," Dalia said as he stopped in front of her. Her voice softened, but there was a steel edge beneath it. She searched his face, her gaze lingering on the faint scar above his brow, a reminder of the life he'd left behind. "Yeah, well... sometimes it's easier that way," he replied, glancing away, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. Dalia folded her arms, assessing him in that way she had-like she was peeling back layers, seeing the things he kept hidden. "Still playing ghost, huh?" He forced a chuckle. "Trying." A pause stretched between them, filled by the low murmurs and the sound of a heavy bag swinging in the corner. Finally, she sighed, the tension easing just a little from her stance. "Listen," she said, "I could use someone like you. Got a group of people here, all of them with reasons to learn how to defend themselves. Real reasons. You'd be surprised." She gestured at the students, who were watching them with polite interest. Ari shook his head, almost instinctively. "I don't think I'm the right guy for that, Dalia." "Oh, I know you're not," she shot back, a smile tugging at her lips. "But they need more than technique. They need someone who knows what it means to be broken and keep fighting. You've been there, Ari. You know what it's like."
Hinweis: Dieser Artikel kann nur an eine deutsche Lieferadresse ausgeliefert werden.