"It's a pleasure meeting you, Gideon Mercer. If you like, you can become a member, just like Vicky here."
"I'll think about it," you mutter, and follow Vicky through the compact gym towards the back of the building.
"He's an... interesting guy."
Vicky nods. "I was running back to the den last week and he intercepted me, told me he saw me jogging every day, offered me a discount membership."
"And you took him up on it?"
"This is the first gym I've found with private rooms," she says, pushing through a door and flicking on the lights. The space beyond is barren, no windows, unpainted walls, floor padded by cheap green exercise mats. Hanging in the middle of the room is a single red sandbag.
"So..." you say as Vicky closes the door behind you. "What's the plan?"
"The plan is, I show you how to fight."
Vicky strips off her jacket, exposing her usual black tank top. Then, to your shock, she strips that off too, revealing a sturdy black sports bra. Her boots are next, followed by her pants.
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