The International

by Christopher Vale

  Tom turned to the others. “I’ll ride down with these men and scout the area, then come back up and get you.”

  Dawn, Rolf and Smith nodded. Tom and the four man fire team loaded onto the elevator and Tom pressed the down button.

  “There’s not even any elevator music,” complained a corporal.

  “If it was Hell, there’d be rock ‘n’ roll,” joked another.

  Dawn watched as the doors closed. Tom gave her a smile and wink just before they shut completely.

  “I’m bored,” Rolf complained, causing Dawn to chuckle. Rolf always had a way of putting everything into perspective.

  “Don’t worry, Rolf,” Dawn said jokingly as she patted his massive arm. “We’re bound to run into werewolves, Nazi robots, or something much worse before this adventure is done.”

  “I hope it’s not ghosts,” Rolf said, his voice suddenly fearful. “You don’t think there are ghosts in here do you Psion?” he asked Dawn, using her codename.

  Dawn smiled up at him and shook her head. “No, sweetie, I don’t think there are any ghosts here.”

  Dawn then turned to see Colonel Smith giving instructions to his men on the order they would take riding the elevator. One fire team would remain in that position, to secure the elevator up here. He planned on leaving another down below to secure the elevator at the bottom. Smith didn’t want their only exit cut off.

  The elevator doors opened again with a ding and Dawn turned to see Tom, standing inside alone. “Alright the Berets have secured the landing below,” he said. “Dawn, Rolf and Colonel Smith, come with me.” Due to Rolf’s size Tom knew they couldn’t squeeze many more in.

  Smith turned to his sergeant. “I’ll bring the elevator back up to get the next two teams,” he explained.

  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied.

  Smith joined Tom, Dawn and Rolf on the elevator.

  “Can I press the button Tom?” Rolf asked.

  “Of course,” Tom replied.

  Rolf pressed the single button with his enormous pointer finger and watched as the doors slid closed. The elevator began to descend. It was a long ride down.

  “How far are we going?” Smith asked.

  “Quite a ways,” Tom said. Eventually the elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding. Tom stepped out first, rifle raised. The landing was a small cement path squeezed in between rock walls on either side.

  “Where are the men?” Smith asked.

  “I left them here,” Tom said, the confusion evident in his voice.

  “Maybe they moved ahead to check things out,” Dawn suggested.

  “No,” Smith said. “These men are perfect professionals, if Tom told them to stay here they would have stayed here.”

  Suddenly the lights in the elevator went out. “The power’s been cut,” Smith said. He unclipped the radio from his belt and called up to his men upstairs, but got nothing but static in return.

  “We’re buried too deep in the mountain,” Tom explained.

  Smith nodded.

  “What do you see?” Tom asked Dawn. But before she could use her mental powers to scan the area ahead, they heard soft footsteps on the cement path. Tom and Smith raised their weapons as a shadow moved along the floor just before someone or something strolled around the corner.

  All four of them gasped when they saw it. It stood about four feet tall with glowing white skin and shining silver eyes. The eyes were beautifully perfect ovals. It had a mouth, that was a slit. It kept walking toward them. Suddenly, a flood of memories poured into Dawn’s brain as she saw the small being in front of her.

  “What the hell is that?” Smith asked.

  “It’s Dave,” Dawn said.

  Chapter 20

  The Soviet plane bumped up and down on the currents of air as it crossed over the Bearing Strait into Alaska, and U.S. airspace. General Utkin leaned over the shoulder of the pilot, nervously. He did not like that he was crossing into American airspace. The young man Axel—Alena’s friend and Brygida’s son—assured him that he had clearance to do so, but that didn’t really make Utkin feel better.

  It’s not that Utkin thought Axel was lying to him, after all Axel was on the same plane and if it was shot down, he’d die along with Utkin, Alena, the pilot and everyone else on board. It was just an uneasiness. Utkin had been fighting the Cold War with America for two decades. It was not that long ago that the two powers had nearly annihilated the earth during what became known in the States as the Cuban Missile Crisis, but what Utkin and most Russians called the Caribbean Crisis. If not for the cool heads of Kennedy and Khrushchev, most of the world might now be uninhabitable.

  Now, however, the two nations were working together to stop a menace that, according to Alena and Axel, had no intention of backing down from the brink. There would be no agreement reached that would prevent the destruction of the earth. Only force would stop this monster.

  Utkin continued to watch the pilot nervously, until he gave a thumbs up indicating that the Americans had indeed granted their flight access into U.S. airspace. Utkin breathed a sigh of relief and scolded himself for ever being nervous. After all, Russia and America were not exactly historical enemies. They had helped each other out on numerous occasions, had never fought a true war against one another and had been on the same side in both World War I and World War II.

  Utkin turned and walked back into the cargo hold of the plane. He found Alena and Axel strapping their parachutes on. Both wore their respective costumes as Utkin had called them when they changed into them. The word annoyed both Axel and Alena who referred to the outfits as uniforms.

  “Uniforms are uniform,” Utkin had told them. But Alena’s and Axel’s costumes looked nothing alike. Alena wore her traditional red suit with yellow hammer and sickle emblazoned on her chest. A suit that evoked such patriotism that Utkin felt a yearning to salute every time he saw her. Axel on the other hand wore a dark blue and black suit with a lighter blue lightening bolt emblazoned on his chest. The same suit he was wearing when the Soviet ship “rescued” him from the Nazi’s Atlantic base.

  Utkin hated Axel’s suit in contrast to Alena’s. Leave it to the capitalist Americans to create costumes devoid of all patriotism, opting instead to create suits that would look good on their Hollywood movie posters and the T-shirts, the designers would sell to make money for their ever-more excessive lifestyles.

  Utkin chuckled to himself. He was a true believer in the Communist cause and hero of not only the Great Patriotic War to defeat the Nazi invaders, but also the October Revolution of 1917. He—like all good Communists—realized that the Western capitalists would not be defeated by military action, but by their own deplorable consumerist tendencies. Utkin estimated that the consumerist American economy would collapse within the next thirty or so years. Yes, by the early to mid-1990s, the once proud American Empire would be begging the Soviet Union for food and medical aid.

  Utkin leaned in close to Alena, speaking directly into her ear so that she could hear him above the roar of the engines. “Your friend was right,” he said in Russian. “We were cleared into American airspace.”

  “Of course he was right,” Alena shot back. She never had a doubt.

  “We will be over the target soon,” Utkin informed her.

  Alena nodded and then turned to Axel and let him know. Axel looked at Utkin and gave him a thumbs-up, to show he understood. Utkin nodded and then leaned close to Alena again.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “We could just let the Americans handle it.”

  “Mikhail is there with them,” she said. “He betrayed our country and murdered Alexi and Brygida.”

  “I know,” Utkin said. “But I don’t know how we are going to get you out.”

  Alena laid a hand on his shoulder. He had been a good friend to Brygida for many years and by extension a good friend to her and her brother. “I will be alright,” she said. “The Americans will give me back.”

  The truth was Alena had no p
lans of returning. Alexi was dead. Brygida was dead. She no longer trusted the Soviet government. In fact, she realized that she could not even completely trust Utkin. Sure he was helping her now, but if she gave him even the slightest hint that the recent events had made her doubt the Communist cause, she had no doubt he’d have her thrown into the gulag. Nor could she stay with the Americans. She knew how infiltrated they were with both Communist and Nazi subversives. She had no idea what she would do, but did not want to be a tool for military dictatorships anymore. If she had learned nothing else from Brygida, it was that no government was trustworthy, because they were all run by men and women who desired power above all else.

  The crew chief flashed five fingers and Alena nodded. Five minutes and they would be over the target. The rear of the plane began to open and Alena and Axel pulled oxygen masks over their faces. They were flying much higher than the American plane carrying Team Blitzkrieg and the Green Berets had flown. The air was very thin up there.

  Alena tapped Axel on the shoulder in a show of support. He smiled at her. Her plans did not include the governments of either the Soviet Union or the United States, but she did hope to have Axel in those plans. She loved him. She had always loved him. And she knew he loved her. Why else would he have risked coming out into the Atlantic to rescue her. Somehow, she, Axel and Rolf would find a way to make a life for themselves after this. She had no idea where to go, but after years of freezing in Russia, she thought Central or South America might be nice.

  The crew chief motioned for them to be ready. They walked down the ramp to the opening, staring out into the sky. The sun was coming up. Their landing would not be secret. They would be visible as soon as their chutes opened.

  The crew chief began to countdown with his fingers, starting with five, then four, then three, then two and finally one. “Go go!” he shouted in Russian and Alena and Axel leapt out of the back of the airplane.

  They were high, very high and would execute what in the States was referred to as a HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) jump. That way they would minimize the time their chutes were open and by extension, the chance of being seen by the bad guys.

  The two of them fell together, holding hands. Alena smiled to herself. This is how it should have always been. She and Axel, Rolf and Alexi together. Brygida could have raised them all. Unfortunately, that’s not how it had worked out. But it wasn’t too late for her and Axel.

  The ground grew closer and closer, faster and faster, and Alena motioned for Axel to pull his ripcord. Both did so, and were jerked back as their parachutes opened. They hit the ground just seconds later and quickly stashed their chutes so as to not be seen. Unlike Tom, Dawn, Rolf and the Green Berets, Axel and Alena had landed within the fence line of the secret base.

  Alena drew her swords as she and Axel squatted in the snow. “Let me run ahead and check things out,” she whispered to him. He nodded.

  “Alright,” Axel said.

  Alena was gone in a flurry of snow. She was back mere seconds later. Crouching down beside him. “There is a door only a hundred meters from here, but it’s guarded by U.S. troops.”

  Axel cursed. He desperately wished he knew which side they were on.

  “Do you want me to kill them?” she asked.

  “No,” he said firmly. She was relieved. She still had nightmares about the platoon of Marines she and Alexi had killed in Vietnam. “I’ll go in like I’m surrendering. If they are on our side great. If not, then we’ll kill them.”

  “Alright,” she smiled.

  She led Axel to them and pointed. She was right, he could see four white and black camoed soldiers near an opening that led to a door. Footprints indicated that they, and possibly many others had come in from beyond the fence line. That meant that they were probably with Tom, Dawn and Rolf. In other words, these were the good guys.

  Axel stood, raised his hands high over his head and began walking toward them. “Don’t shoot,” he said. “I’m on your side.”

  The soldiers did not move.

  ***

  “Dave?” Colonel Smith asked Dawn. “You are on a first name basis with this thing?”

  “Yes,” Dawn replied as she stepped forward, cautiously.

  “It’s so cool,” Rolf said. “Is it an alien?”

  Dave stopped walking toward them and stared at them.

  “Yes,” Dave said in response to Rolf’s question. “You would call us aliens.” Dave then turned his attention to Dawn. “Welcome, Dawn.”

  “Welcome to where, Dave?” she asked.

  “To the end,” he said. “And the beginning.”

  “Where are my men?” Colonel Smith demanded as he stepped forward.

  Dave looked past Dawn at the soldier behind her. “Not here,” Dave responded and then turned back to Dawn.

  Smith was not satisfied with Dave’s answer and moved toward the small thing, his pistol raised and pointed at Dave’s shining white face.

  “Listen you little alien, tell me where my men are right now or…” Smith began, but suddenly stopped. He straightened from his shooter’s stance, and bent his arm, placing the barrel of the pistol against his temple, his finger resting on the trigger.

  “Colonel,” Tom said as he stared at the old soldier’s face, receiving a blank stare in return. It was the same blank stare that had adorned the faces of the MPs that drove Tom and Dawn to Kammler’s apartment.

  “What have you done to him?” Dawn demanded.

  “We’ve taken control of his will,” Dave replied.

  “Taken control of his will?” Dawn asked.

  “Yes,” Dave replied. “He no longer has a will of his own. His will is ours.”

  “I don’t like this alien,” Rolf said as he took a step back.

  “Me either Rolf,” Tom whispered.

  Dave ignored them. “Would you like control of the soldier’s will Dawn?” he asked.

  Dawn glanced at Colonel Smith who still held the pistol to his temple and then back at Dave.

  “I can do that?” she asked in disbelief. “I can control his will?”

  “Of course,” Dave said. “That is why we picked you. You are the only human we have found with the abilities we need.”

  Dawn glanced back at the colonel. “Alright,” she said. “How do I control his will?”

  Dave took a step forward and held up his hand, placing it along the side of Dawn’s head. His fingers were cold to the touch. Lifeless. Dawn suddenly had a very strange sensation. Her eyes popped wide and her mouth opened as she began to go to the black again.

  “Not again,” Tom said desperately wanting to go to Dawn, to help her, but afraid Dave would then use the mind control on him as well.

  “No, Dawn,” Dave said gently. “Stay here.”

  Dawn blinked her eyes and took a breath. She panted as she tried to regain complete consciousness. She bent over as if she were about to lose her lunch, but then straightened. She looked at Dave and then at Colonel Smith. He lowered the pistol away from his temple and returned it to the holster on his hip.

  Dawn stepped over toward him and walked until she was about six inches from his face. She lifted her hand and ran it through his hair. He smiled.

  “He is conscious,” she said inquisitively.

  “Yes, of course,” Dave replied. Then to Smith he said, “You can hear and see everything can’t you?”

  “Yes,” Smith replied.

  “His memory is his, unless you erase it of course. His body functions, emotions, everything is his.”

  “But I control his will,” Dawn said.

  “Yes,” Dave replied. “You see, he does what you want him to do, because he wants to do it. His will is your will.”

  “That is amazing,” she said.

  Colonel Smith suddenly dropped to one knee and took Dawn’s hand in his.

  “Miss Williams,” he said. “Dawn, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I would be honored if you would marry me.”

  Dawn smiled. “Colonel I
am flattered,” she said as she placed a hand on her chest, feigning surprise. “But I think we should at least go out to dinner and a movie first.” She chuckled and her chuckle cause Rolf to laugh.

  “That’s funny,” the giant said.

  Smith stood. “I understand Miss Williams,” he said.

  “I’m not sure if I like ‘Miss Williams,’” Dawn said.

  Colonel Smith then bowed in a flourish. “Of course Your Majesty,” he said.

  Dawn nodded. “That’s better.” She turned to Dave. “It’s like I can see inside of his brain and feel inside of his brain.” She walked around him, like she were an art critic inspecting a sculpture.

  “Can I give him his will back?” she asked Dave.

  “Yes,” Dave said. “Why do you want to?”

  Dawn shook her head. “Oh, I don’t,” she smiled. “I’m enjoying this too much. The power is simply exhilarating.” She turned to Dave. “But if I needed to I could?”

  “Yes,” Dave said. “Just…” he stood completely still for a moment and Dawn wandered if he had shut down. “Push it,” he eventually said, when he had come up with the right words.

  “Push it,” Dawn repeated. She concentrated deep in her mind. “Push it,” she said again softly. She worked through it and then she found it. “Oh yes,” she said, almost bursting. She placed her hands right in front of Smith’s face. “Oh yes, but I am not ready yet. I like the obedient slave.”

  Dawn then turned her head slowly to look at Tom and Rolf. “How about them?” she asked with a sly grin on her face. “Can I control their will as well?”

  “Of course,” Dave said. “You can control any human’s will,” he said.

  “How?” she asked.

  “Now Dawn, there is no need for that,” Tom said as he took a step back.

  “Oh, don’t worry Tom I won’t hurt you,” she smiled sweetly. “Though I might have you give me nightly foot massages,” she laughed.

  “Just grab his mind,” Dave said.