Commandos (3 page)

* * * *

Diana was on tenterhooks, sitting in her room, thinking. She’d only just begun to realise how much of a deal it could have been to Alec to find out about Jo’s memory erasure. It was as if they’d never met, as if they had had no history together. This may have been a good thing from Diana’s point of view, but from Alec’s? How was she to know what he would feel? She felt lost and confused. She could not even get her mind around the reason why Jo had had her memory wiped in the first place. She’d seemed to have come to terms with the fact that Alec was with his new wife now. Maybe she needed the procedure to be able to fall in love with someone else, to start anew. But that would mean Jo could fall for her husband again. Doubts piled up in her mind like mountains over a stormy ocean. Her heart pounded. She may as well never fall in love again
– Diana tried to calm herself down.
And Alec is mine now, isn’t he?

It took a while before she realised that someone had been knocking at her door unobtrusively for some time.
Pregnant and barely three weeks from her term, she struggled to get up. She would give Alec a son, something Jo could never match. When she opened the door, she saw Margaret, her face grim and pale.
“Do you have it, Meg?” Diana skipped courtesy and came straight to the point.
Margaret walked inside. She was distressed, her hands glistening with sweat.
“I shouldn’t be doing this, Diana.” Without asking for permission, she poured herself a glass of water and downed it in one swig, wishing it was something much stronger.
“Don’t worry about it. No one’s going to find out. It’ll be our little secret.” A false smile appeared on Diana’s face.
“Sure. But it was just me and the commodore in the room. If any of this comes out, I’ll be fired.”
Diana walked up to Margaret, strangely amused by her second thoughts.
“No one’s going to fire you. The whole bloody procedure was illegal, don’t you see?” She could no longer hold her laughter. “Check mate, get it?”
Margaret drew a heavy breath and reached into her pocket producing a disc, a copy of Jo’s memories. There was a sudden glint in Diana’s eyes. She stared at it greedily.
“All right. I’ll give it to you, but you have to promise me this will never come out.” She handed Diana the disc and left the room without as much as looking back. She knew all too well how stubborn Diana could be, how toxic her obsessions had become once she’d learnt about Jo and Alec. She used to be so different once. Margaret had no idea how she could help her friend, but she prayed for a solution to this mess, which would bring Diana back from this insanity.
Meanwhile, Diana stared at her wedding photo with Alec and, stroking her belly with one hand, grasped at the disc with the other, as if afraid she might drop it.
As for Alec, he felt lonely and confused. On the one hand, he had a wife, soon a son, and on the other there was Jo. They were no longer a couple, but they still worked together and had remained friends. Now he was going to lose even that. He walked into one of the gyms, surprised to see there was no one there. He changed into a kimono, feeling a strong need to sweat the tension out of his system. He switched on a simulation programme and began the training. With every move he felt heaviness lifting off his chest and back, as sweat started to bead on his skin. Literally translated, kung fu meant hard work. He’d realised long ago that physical exercise was the best way to deal with any form of stress, particularly one connected with women.
The psyche can react pressure. Even the best extensive training could forget everything they’d learnt in a blink of an eye when stressed.
He completely concentrated on the training so that he did not notice Levi who walked silently into the room and was now carefully studying his commando. The commodore knew painfully well that all he had tried to teach this man, all the knowledge, lessons of respect, patience and morality were forfeited the moment he broke up with Jo.
Alec noticed Levi and broke out of his trance. “Can I help you, Commodore?”
Levi suggested training together. It had been a long time since Alec had last practiced kung fu with a living opponent. The commando was reluctant, but in no position to refuse. Sparring was the best form of practice available to any adept of martial arts. It incorporated every element of the art and prepared the practitioner for actual combat. For a while they exchanged blows without a word.
The commodore broke the silence. “I see you’re really in the strangest ways under commandos with the most trying to vent out some anger.”
“Oh yeah.” Alec made a high kick aiming for the forearm, putting all his strength into it, but Levi’s advantage was more than obvious from the first moments of the fight. Levi was a master of numerous combat styles, even the most exotic ones, imitating movements of powerful animals such as the tiger, praying mantis or dragon. He combined them all in a calm, fully controlled manner. Training was supposed to teach, not harm.
“Better now?” Levi reached down to help the commando to his feet. But as he leant, Alec’s eyes fixed on the memorial access chip hanging from a chain around the commodore’s neck. He immediately knew what he was looking at and without a word gathered himself up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Levi stood motionless for a moment, trying to get his head around what had just happened. He pitied Alec and realised how hard the last months had been for him. On the other hand, the man had so much negativity in him, so many flaws which the commodore had been trying to root out for years. A once polite, talented commando had turned into an edgy grump, so antipathetic that he’d managed to turn nearly every person onboard against him. After he had cheated on Jo, he begged her to forgive him, and she probably would have if it had not been for Diana and her pregnancy. Once Jo found out about that, she solemnly promised Alec they would never be together again. That was probably, more than anything else, what pushed him to marry the future mother of his child. It was no use explaining that he’d been drunk, that it had been an accident. Levi remembered it as if it had happened only yesterday. Jo went through another nervous breakdown, almost as bad as the one she’d suffered after returning from that mentally shattering mission. He pondered on it for a while.
Then he reached for a halberd. Training with melee weapons had always been his favourite pastime. He found solace in the studied perfection of movement, the harmonious contact between the body and the tool. Every self-respecting commando mastered at least a dozen or so kinds of traditional weaponry.
When Jo returned from that hapless mission, she brought news with her that the terrorists had improved the Systema, modified by their leader, Kaminsky. Levi reckoned that Kaminsky had based his martial arts system on those developed by Oznobishin, Soloniewicz and Spirydynow.
As he chopped the air angrily with his halberd, Levi recalled various facts about the Systema. Originally, it used to be a combat system taught to KGB operatives, a combination of various martial arts such as judo or jujitsu. The Systema’s naturalness and simplicity made it highly efficient and deadly. The system was all about stress resistance and remaining calm and relaxed in a situation of extreme pressure. Levi decided to follow that advice himself and unwind a little. After forty minutes he switched to energy training, trying to balance energy levels in his body and control its flow. As usual, he finished his workout with a series of mental exercises, clearing his mind and strengthening his consciousness.
When he was done, he took a shower, got dressed and returned to the navigation room, relaxed and ready for new challenges. They were just about to land in Atlantis. He was glad to see that Jo had done a good job; her piloting was as controlled and steady as ever. She entered dimensional data at an even pace allowing the system to process it without delay and guided the shuttle towards the docking bay. She was going to take over manually just before the touchdown itself.
Levi watched Jo work and was pleased to see that the memorial procedure had not affected her skills or her passion for spacecraft. She was doing something she loved and remained one of the very best captains in the fleet.
The shuttle steadily lowered itself over the landing strip and begun the landing approach.
“Well done, Jo,” the commodore said several minutes later as the ship had already safely stopped with the engines shut down. Passengers were slowly preparing to disembark. Many of them, Levi included, called the space station their home and were relieved to once more walk its streets and corridors.
Jo and the commodore were the last to leave as tradition demanded. Mindful of her blank memory, he carefully watched her, ready to step in should her condition lead her astray. They soon noticed that a welcome committee of senators was awaiting them outside. This could only mean one thing – trouble.
“Welcome, Commodore Levi, Captain Starska.” The senators bowed before them in the manner of courtiers from ancient Japan.
“Why were we called back to Atlantis outside our regular schedule?” Levi asked directly, trying to read something in the senators’ eyes.
“You will be debriefed in due course. The Defence Council will be gathering shortly. We will keep you informed.”
The men walked away, the number of unanswered questions growing even larger. The commodore said his goodbyes to Jo who, as it turned out, still remembered her way around the base and the location of her old bedroom. He watched her walk off slowly towards the centre of Atlantis.
Not so long ago, less than five years in fact, when she first arrived here she had hoped to find herself a new home, happiness and maybe even love. It was also here that she had learnt the bitter-sweet taste of competition. She remembered entering the IT Navigational Competition with unshaken self-esteem and determination. She recalled the commodore’s pride when he accepted her into his crew… and then…
“Jo?” She turned around and saw a beautiful, pregnant woman. “I’m Diana. Alec’s wife.”
Jo glanced at her and offered her hand in a welcoming gesture, but Diana could sense that she did not remember her.
“Alec is one of your commandos, remember?” She watched the woman’s reaction closely.
“Oh, right.” Jo seemed confused. “My commando.”
She was trying hard to search her memory but found no answers. Diana looked strangely tearful. Feeling uneasy, Jo excused herself and walked past.
“Oh, God. I think… she remembers…” the pregnant woman whispered to herself, not noticing Margaret, who had appeared behind her.
“Come, Diana. You mustn’t strain yourself. It’s almost your term.”

* * * *

David’s odds were not improving. He had to flee from Earth where he had spent the last six months of his life, plotting, sneaking and utilising the best equipment he could find to plant the transmitter in the enemy’s base.

The mission was a brainchild of many commandos, including Levi, Jo and Alec. With the transmitter in place, they would have a much closer insight into any move the terrorists decided to make. This would provide the much needed edge to continue their struggle. David had feigned his own death, hopefully well enough to buy him a few more days and allow the commandos to evacuate him before the terrorists saw through his little diversion.

He was limping, sore and exhausted, with blood trickling down his right shin. He’d spent the previous night forcing his way through the eastern forests of North America.

Finally, he reached his old jeep hidden in the brushwood, got in, fastened his seat belt and reached to the glove compartment to retrieve the weapon stashed there. Instead, his hand fished out a picture of his son. He studied it for a moment, sighed heavily and put it away. There was no time for this. He turned on the ignition and drove off into the forest, as far away from people as possible. He would have to find a suitable location and make sure it was safe before contacting Atlantis again and sending off the coordinates. The next few hours were going to be crucial, as much to the success of the mission as to his own survival. He realised that he was responsible for more than just the outcome of the nearest ground troops’ campaign but also for the safety of the space base named after one of the first space shuttles ever built. Atlantis was one of the production centres for the newest and most advanced spacecraft and as such constantly in danger of becoming the target of a massive terrorist attack.

The streets of the base were often used as testing grounds for new technological wonders and each year there were more of them, so no one was surprised by the curiosity with which Jo studied everything around her. She walked slowly, as if trying to soak up everything happening around her. She threw her rucksack over one shoulder and entered one of the open hangars where technicians and automatics specialists were assembling a prototype of some sort of small airplane capable of flying both in space and in the atmosphere. She noticed a hydrogen engine inside the open chassis. She peeked inside and spotted, next to the navigational console, a new, shiny, state-of-the-art Tela 9645 processor. She stroked the craft’s bonnet and smiled the smile of a small child marvelling at a new toy.

“Nice one,” she said to one of the constructors. The man turned to her and saluted noticing her rank. “Oh yeah,” he answered. “It’s amazing. One of the

fastest ever built. It can fly in atmosphere nearly undetectable.”
“Steering?”
“Manual, but supported by an intelligent computer system. It has the best processors available.”
“The cockpit is a bit small.” Jo adroitly jumped inside.
“Two people, three at best. The total weight is most important.”
“Think four would squeeze in if needed?” Jo asked, looking around.
Levi walked into the hangar and noticed the captain. He smiled when he saw Jo so mesmerised by the new plane.
“Jo,” he said when he got closer, “in two hours, we’ll be debriefed by the Defence Council. Get ready.”
“Yes, Sir.” Jo jumped out of the plane and looked back at the technician. “It’s a pretty little thing. Hope I can fly it one day.”
“Which shuttle are you from, Ma’am?”
“The Luna circumterrestrial shuttle. We watch the terrorists from above. Funny, isn’t it?”
“It’s hard to hold out on Earth, with all those terrorists calling the shots.” The technician took off his glasses and tried to wipe them with his stained apron. “It’s not surprising we’ve used our technology to flee to the skies.”
“But how are we to be truly happy up here? Real life is down there, on Earth.” Jo fell into reverie. “I want to see trees, smell grass on the wind…” Behind her, Alec stopped half-way to the plane and listened curiously. “I want to hear children laugh, feel snowflakes on my skin, smell real bread…”
“Hardly anyone bothers to think of those things nowadays,” Alec interrupted her.
Jo turned around and fixed her eyes on his face for long enough to give him a glimpse of hope that she still remembered him. “We mustn’t forget,” she retorted, “we’re commandos and we’re fighting to get all that back. To get back our homes. If you forget that, what’s there to fight for?”
The technician nodded in agreement.
Jo walked away, leaving Alec and Levi deep in thought, pondering whether such a tomorrow was even possible.
For centuries now, terrorism had been enjoying a period of unprecedented success as means of political struggle. The killers now praised as heroes would once have been called criminals, assassins and suicide bombers.
What started with small-scale attacks soon gained pace with more and more daring acts of terror, such as the World Trade Centre, the Pentagon, Beslan and Ossetia. It didn’t take long for the scale of attacks to threaten the largest European metropolises: Moscow, London, Paris and Berlin. At that point, the mechanism was already too advanced and powerful to control. It became increasingly difficult to determine what was and what was not terrorism, who ought to be called a terrorist and who was a freedom fighter. The use of force, violation of law, intimidation and extortion fast became everyday reality. Terrorism became a population-wide issue. The wave had been set in motion. Unstoppable, Levi thought of the early terrorist groups, so eagerly recalled by the later caliphs as terrorist leaders: AlQaeda, Hamas, the IRA, ETA, the red Brigades and the Shining path, a Marxist organisation in Peru which at one point had controlled over fifty percent of the country’s territory. Levi drew a deep breath, shaken to the bone by the memories of past and more recent atrocities. * * * *