”What? Are you pulling my leg?” Margo demanded, thinking of a lifetime’s worth of newspaper, magazine, and television news articles.
”Unless it’s a sawed-off shotgun at close range, or the shot hits a vital organ, chances are you’ll live given relatively decent medical care. But if you’re cut up in a knife fight, shock and blood loss will kill you quick. And I mean quick. In seconds, if you’re hit in the right places. One good slash,” he traced a finger across her lower arm, “will sever muscles to the bone, cut arteries, veins, may even fracture bone itself. If you’re hit across the femoral, the jugular, or the carotids, you’re dead. Period. Same with abdominal or chest wounds, most times. You’ll bleed out or die of shock before you can get help.”
Margo swallowed. “Wonderful. What happens if some guy jumps me by surprise?”
Sven held her regard steadily “Easy. You never let anyone jump you by surprise.”
He wasn’t kidding.
”Pay attention to your surroundings constantly. What’s potentially hiding in the shadows of that bush? Behind that tree, around that corner, in that doorway? Is the man behind me just strolling along for a walk or following me? What about the guy lounging around on the steps up ahead? Pay attention. Somebody takes you by surprise, you’ve already lost. Remember that exercise I had you practice before you went tripping off to London. Notice everyone else before they notice you.”
Margo flashed back to the attack in St. Giles. If she hadn’t been watching so carefully…”All right, point taken.”