Chapter 4

Harri Evans, a devoted family man, stood a striking figure at 182 cm, his frame tipping the scales at 100 kg. His appearance was marked by thick, brown, curly hair and deep hazel eyes that held a steady, comforting gaze. While his features were ordinary, a distinctive scar slashed across his cheek, lending him a rugged, almost intriguing charm. His physique was impressive; well-maintained muscle tone and a pronounced six-pack were a testament to his dedication to fitness, something his wife found particularly appealing as she often playfully traced her fingers over the contours of his abs.

On this particular day, Harri was about halfway through a leisurely run with his two teenage children. The family jogged at a relaxed pace down a scenic country road, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of nature. Birds chirped, and small animals scurried in the underbrush, creating a peaceful soundtrack to their exercise. His children, a 13-year-old boy and a 14-year-old girl kept pace beside him, both showing signs of inheriting their father’s athleticism.

However, the route they had chosen was not without its purpose. The road skirted the edges of the local city, remarkably close to a less reputable area. Harri had chosen this path intentionally, aiming to teach his children an important lesson in self-defense. He believed in preparing them for life’s eventualities, including the less pleasant ones.

As if on cue, the quiet of their run was interrupted. A couple of unsavory characters emerged from the shadows of the city’s fringe. Harri’s protective instincts as a father kicked in immediately, but his eyes showed a calm determination. This was the moment he had anticipated, an opportunity to defend his family and impart a practical, real-world lesson to his children. The situation was tense, but Harri remained composed, ready to show his children how to handle confrontation with strength and intelligence.

As Harri and his children navigated through a narrow alley, the setting seemed almost tailor-made for an ambush. It was there that the two strangers made their move with malicious intent. Brandishing knives, they suddenly appeared in front of Harri’s group, effectively blocking their path.

With bold confidence, the taller of the two assailants demanded without hesitation, “Give us your money.”

Harri’s gaze swept over the scene, rapidly assessing the situation. His years of experience and instinctual understanding of such confrontations were evident in his calm demeanor. He communicated silently with his children, using practiced hand signals. The message was clear: they were to focus on the shorter, seemingly less experienced assailant, whom Harri judged to be the weaker link.

Meanwhile, Harri himself stepped forward to confront the taller mugger. His approach was unhurried, almost casual, as he closed the distance between them. He stopped short of arm’s reach and locked eyes with the would-be robber. His expression was one of cool appraisal, tinged with a hint of disdain.

“Do we look like we have money?” Harri asked, his voice steady and imbued with a subtle challenge. The question wasn’t just a stalling tactic or a rhetorical device; it was a calculated move to throw the assailant off balance, to make him question the assumptions that led to this moment.

The alley, now a stage for this tense encounter, was filled with a charged silence. Harri’s children watched him, ready to follow his lead, their bodies tensed for action. The situation was precarious, but Harri’s confidence and strategic approach had turned a moment of potential victimhood into a lesson in control and psychological maneuvering.

The tall assailant, caught off guard by Harri’s calm demeanor and unexpected question, floundered for a response. He waved his knife in simulated confidence, but his uncertainty was palpable. Struggling to devise a convincing retort, he blurted out, somewhat lamely, “How do I know you don’t have any money? You could be lying!”

Having reached the limits of his patience with this farce, Harri saw his moment to act. In a swift, practiced motion, he slapped the knife out of the man’s hand with an ease that spoke of his proficiency and experience in handling such situations. The knife clattered to the ground, its threat instantly neutralized.

Without stepping back, maintaining his dominant stance, Harri turned slightly towards his children and said, “OK, kids, they’re all yours.”

His words were calm, but they carried an implicit instruction and trust. It signaled his children to practice the self-defense techniques he had taught them. This was more than just a physical confrontation; it was a real-life test of their ability to assess and handle a threatening situation.

Once a place of potential danger, the alley had transformed into an impromptu training ground, with Harri overseeing his children’s response to the challenge. His confidence in their abilities was apparent, and it was now up to them to prove that his teachings had been well received and understood.

With Harri’s cue, his children sprang into action. Demonstrating the techniques they had been taught, they used their legs to execute a swift, coordinated move. Each child-targeted one of the bandits, sweeping their legs from under them. The assailants were taken by surprise, losing their balance and tumbling to the ground, landing facedown with a thud.

Quickly capitalizing on their advantage, the children climbed onto the backs of the fallen men. They began to deliver a series of light, symbolic punches, more as a show of control than to cause any actual harm. These ‘candy punches,’ as they playfully called them, were a way to assert dominance without inflicting serious injury.

After a few minutes, Harri decided they had made their point. “OK, kids, I think they’ve had enough,” he said, signaling them to stop. He then turned his attention to the subdued bandits. “You guys had enough yet? You two really should look for another line of work,” he remarked dryly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Reaching into his pocket, Harri retrieved a couple of zip ties, always prepared for such eventualities. Handing one to each of his children, they got to work, securing the bandits’ hands together. They positioned the men sitting back-to-back, with their arms stretched to the sides. Each child then took a hand from each bandit, effectively zip-tying them in a manner that required cooperation to escape.

Under normal circumstances, if the two bandits worked together, they could probably free themselves in about 2 to 3 minutes. However, judging by their previous actions and lack of foresight, Harri doubted their ability to cooperate effectively. These weren’t the brightest criminals, and their current predicament was proof of that.

The situation, now entirely under control, became another valuable lesson for Harri’s children — a lesson not just in self-defense but also in restraint, control, and the consequences of poor life choices. Harri watched them, a silent, proud guardian, knowing that today’s events would be a story and a lesson remembered for years.

“Come on, kids, we’ve got to get home for lunch,” Harri said, a note of normalcy in his voice as they resumed their run. The encounter had been intense, but Harri was keen to return to the routine of their day. As they jogged down the road towards home, the adrenaline of the moment began to dissipate, replaced by the familiar rhythm of their family life.

Upon reaching home, the kids headed to their rooms to change while Harri picked up the phone to make a necessary call. The local police, with whom he was familiar on a first-name basis, were his next point of contact.

The line connected, and a familiar voice answered. “Hi, Charlie,” Harri began. “We were accosted this morning by a couple of the local delinquents. They’re in the alley between 24th and 25th St., off of Allen Avenue. You might want to check and make sure they’re smart enough to get out of the zip ties I left them in. Otherwise, I will come down and press charges later. Thanks, Charlie.”

With the call concluded, Harri headed to his bedroom for a well-deserved shower and a change of clothes. Opting for the casual comfort of jeans and a T-shirt, he went to the kitchen, thinking about preparing a healthy lunch for the family.

As he entered the kitchen, he was greeted by a pleasant surprise. His wife had already started making salads. He smiled warmly at her, a shared understanding of the day’s events passing between them without words. Walking over, he gave her a passionate kiss and a playful swat on the butt, a gesture of affection and familiarity.

Then, turning his attention to the task, Harri began setting the table for lunch. The peaceful domestic scene starkly contrasted the morning’s confrontation, a reminder of the diverse roles he played in his life — protector, father, and loving husband. The family would gather soon, sharing a meal and undoubtedly discussing the day’s events, another chapter in their lives marked by learning and togetherness.

As the family settled around the table, the atmosphere was comfortable domesticity. Having worked up an appetite from their eventful run, the kids eagerly took their places, ready to enjoy the meal. Harri busied himself with pouring iced tea, the clinking of ice cubes a soothing background sound in the warm kitchen. His wife, ever the efficient partner in their household dance, placed the large bowl of salad in the center of the table before gracefully taking her seat.

The kids, not hesitating, began filling their salad bowls, their actions swift and decisive, much like their father’s had been earlier in the day. After completing his task with the iced tea, Harri served himself, adding croutons and cheese to his salad. He then reached for a bottle of Italian dressing, drizzling it generously over the greens.

They were about halfway through their meal, the conversation light and filled with the day’s earlier events, when Harri’s phone buzzed with an incoming text message. Picking it up, he saw it was from the Rangers, a group he was a part of, known for their immediate responses and skilled interventions. The message was concise and clear: “Time to go to work ASAP.”

The sudden call to action was not unusual in Harri’s life, but it constantly shifted the atmosphere. He looked up from his phone, meeting his family’s eyes. They all understood the nature of his commitments and the need to respond when duty called.

“Sorry, everyone,” Harri said, standing up from the table, his tone a mix of apology and resolve. “Duty calls. I’ll have to cut lunch short.”

His family nodded, a mixture of pride and understanding in their expressions. They were familiar with this aspect of his life, the sudden departures, the unspoken risks. Harri quickly finished his salad, his movements efficient and purposeful. After a round of quick, reassuring hugs and a promise to return as soon as possible, he was out the door, ready to face whatever challenge the Rangers had in store for him.

As Harri pondered the nature of the call to action from the Rangers, his phone rang again, interrupting his train of thought. Glancing at the caller ID, he recognized the number and answered promptly, “Hello, Charlie.”