Tasmanian SFG: Welcome to Hell

by C. R. Daems

  Paul stared at me for a long time before slowly nodding. Several minutes later the shuttles began descending and fifteen minutes later we were standing on grassy mound as the shuttle lifted into the air.

  “I for one don’t fancy sleeping in that swamp. I think we can make it across in less than twenty-four hours,” said a tall clean-shaven man in a raised voice to nodding heads. His round face looked tense and his eyes nervous although his voice sounded confident. “Anyone want to join me?” he said as he began walking and smiled in what I thought relief when about ten men followed him into the jungle. That left seventeen men, who began collecting in groups of two and three. As we stood watching, a man about Paul’s height came ambling over to us.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “They gave us three days for a reason,” I said, still not sure of the purpose of the exercise.

  “That is telling because Arthur is right. It’s a day’s march to the extraction location. I’m Frank Conner.”

  “Hi, Frank,” Paul and I said together. I noticed that the other groups had entered the jungle, and the three of us were the only ones left on the little island. “I’m Paul and she’s Jolie,” Paul added. “Jolie thinks they have traps and combatants waiting for us.”

  “So the trick is to see how far you can get before they capture you. They are obviously Tasmanians and wouldn’t like to be embarrassed by us slipping past them,” Frank said almost to himself.

  “How about single file, maintain a ten-meter separation, and trade off point every hour?” Paul asked. I thought it a good suggestion and nodded agreement along with Frank.

  “Let’s wait a couple of hours. Unless they have an up-to-date count on the number of captures, it may make them careless if they think they have everyone,” I said.

  “We can hope.” Frank grinned.

  * * *

  Two hours later, we entered the jungle with Frank in the lead, Paul next, and me last. The first four hours were uneventful as darkness descended on the jungle with the setting sun. With less light, it had become hard to see Paul in front of me, so Frank had sent word to close the gap to five meters. Suddenly, Paul held up a fist and I froze in place. We stood silent for a long time, and then I heard a noise…voices. Paul signaled for me to close the gap. When I did I saw Frank. He reached up and pulled our heads together.

  “We guessed right. Tasmanians have a group of candidates tied to trees about twenty-five meters to our right. I’m going to continue straight ahead but watch every footstep. Any noise could alert whoever else is in the area.” Frank then moved off, staying low and moving like he was in slow motion. Paul followed several minutes later. I thought this would have been fun except I suspected the object was to catch and torture us.

  An hour or more later, I saw Paul, who was on point, waiting for me. Frank joined us a couple of minutes afterward.

  He pointed up where two men hung in a net about ten meters in the air under a massive moss-covered tree.

  “Normally, I’d cut them down,” Paul said. “But we were warned not to help anyone for the first month.”

  It was early morning and dim light permitted me to see a good ten meters ahead. I was in the lead and waist deep in water when I saw a medium-sized crocodile resting on a small island to my right. I froze. He might not be able to kill me unless he had friends in the facility, but he could certainly end my hope of qualifying. I noticed Frank and Paul had also frozen in place. I slowly lifted my arm and pointed. They nodded. When it hadn’t moved after five minutes, I submerged and slowly walked toward the left bank, careful not to agitate the mud. Then I saw it—a trip wire. Sneaky. A dead crocodile to entice you to move to the left and trip the trap. At least I hoped the croc was dead. I waved to continue and began moving forward again. When I emerged from the water some twenty meters ahead I saw three bamboo cages, each with a bound and gagged candidate. I was glad when Frank replaced me in the lead and my heart stopped slamming into my chest like a wrecking ball.

  Three hours later, when I thought we must be within a few hours of the extraction point, I stopped to look at the map. As I did, the jungle lit with bright lights, and I could hear the pop, pop, pop of rifle fire. I dove toward a pond of water while seeing a dozen camouflaged figures with automatic weapons peppering Frank and Paul with paintballs. I felt a sharp pain in my leg, which meant I had been hit too. I dove straight into a Tasmanian who had been partially submerged in the pond. We staggered up together. As he raised his weapon, I grabbed the barrel and pulled like I was trying to take it away from him. I wasn’t, as it was on a strap around his shoulder. But he thought I was and yanked it back with all his might. Turning sideway to avoid being shot, I let myself be pulled back toward him, felt the weapon being fired on automatic, and heard a shout from behind as I delivered an elbow to his nose. While he was stunned by the blow to his noise, I slipped the weapon’s strap over his head and turned, ready to fire as I slid behind him. Three paintballs intended for me splashed over the man’s chest as I returned fire.

  I woke in a hole with a bamboo cage covering me and the chief shouting. “You bunch of old ladies. A woman, a young woman, killed two of you and wounded two others. I’d be afraid to send you back into combat. I’d be even more afraid of you shooting me than the enemy.” My head was pounding, but I could detect the chief’s amusement. No one replied, knowing anything they said could be used against them. “How in God’s name did she get your weapon, Smitty?”

  “I thought she was trying to pull my weapon away from me so I yanked it back. She came flying back with my weapon and broke my nose with her elbow. And then Garret shot me three times.”

  “Don’t you like Smitty?” the chief asked.

  “She slipped behind Smitty as I pulled the trigger,” Garret said weakly. “One minute she was there and the next only Smitty.”

  “She didn’t have any trouble shooting Petra and Samuel.” The chief again.

  “We couldn’t shoot her as she was behind Smitty,” a strange voice said, probably Petra or Samuel.

  “Why not? Garret had already killed Smitty,” said the chief. No response. “Meet Jolie Luan, one of this year’s Tasmanian candidates. Maybe now that she can’t move you can get her to answer some questions.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  * * *

  Lying in my damp hole wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the bamboo bars pressing down on the entire length of my body and making it impossible to move. I had been lying there for several hours when several of the Tasmanians returned. They stood staring down at me.

  “Smitty, that looks really uncomfortable but at least no snakes have crawled into the hole with her,” one of the men said, his face lowered as if looking for snakes. The thought made me want to feel around myself but the bars prevented me from moving, which of course was the idea.

  “Well, sweet thing, Garret could be right. I could let you out of that hole if you’d talk to me. You could start by telling me how many men came into the jungle with you,” Smitty said in an I want to help you tone of voice. I debated whether being a smart ass or remaining silent would be the best strategy. I decided they were going to torture me regardless, so it didn’t really matter. I cleared my mind and prepared to endure, silently thanking my father for his training. Slowly my breathing lessened and my mind and body became separate entities. After several more attempts they went away.

  It began to rain and I choked water into my lungs and for an eternity sputtered and choked, unable to turn my head to stop the rain or to get a lung full of air to discharge the water.

  “Hey, Smitty, come look. This is better than the old waterboarding technique. She can’t turn her head so she can’t breathe without sucking in water, and she can’t cough because of the weight of the cage on her chest.”

  I held my breath and calmed myself. I took a tentative sniff of air through my nose and realized the angle of my face meant the water wasn’t falling directly into my nose so tiny inhales of air was possible
. But tiny sniffs of air wouldn’t sustain me if my body continued functioning normally. Over the next few minutes I slowed my heart and relaxed every muscle in my body. It worked, although painful—the air was enough to survive but not as much as my body needed and I throbbed with pain all over as my body fought to continue functioning.

  “Did she die?” Smitty voice was full of concern. I felt a warm finger on my neck.

  “No.” The voice held a bit of concern. “Careful, Smitty. There will be an inquiry if you kill her.”

  “I’m not trying to kill her. I deserved the broken nose,” Smitty said, sounding defensive.

  “You have that bamboo gate pressing on her harder than normal,” said the voice but didn’t tell Smitty to loosen it.

  It rained more that night, which required more shallow breathing, and the hole filled with water up to my armpits. With the insufficient oxygen and literally floating in water, my mind had me rising. I could feel my body pushing through the bamboo and suddenly I was free. I could feel the wet leaves as I rose through the trees. The cool dampness was invigorating. And then I broke through the trees into the open air and I could breathe again. I hadn’t broken free; they had dragged me out because it was now filled with water. They pulled me up and tied me to a tree. The rope was not only tight but wrapped so many times I couldn’t move a muscle and found breathing difficult.

  “Well, bitch, information for water,” Petra said, holding a cup of water. I was thirsty and knew my body needed water more than food to survive. It was tempting. At this point in time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the same regiment as these sadistic bastards. Then I decided I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I closed my eyes and received two hard slaps, along with several punches to my ribs and stomach. Silence. I came back to reality as the light of day penetrated the forest. With consciousness, the pain returned and my body steadily throbbed with pain like an out of control metronome.

  Smitty return smiling, which I knew wasn’t a good thing. He rubbed something on my lips—honey—then the exposed skin on my arms and legs. “Scream when you are ready to tell me how many men entered the jungle with you and I’ll release you to return home. Home for a bath, water, and food,” he whispered. I closed my eyes and retreated where no hate or fear existed. Far off I could feel the army of bugs crawling over me.

  My eyes shot open as water splashed over me. “Release her,” the chief growled. “You’ve nearly killed her.”

  “I was just following orders, sir,” Smitty said. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Whose orders?” Through my fogged vision, I could see the chief’s face nearly touching Smitty’s.

  “The colonel. He said to do whatever it took to break her.”

  “You get her on a shuttle and back to the medical unit. That’s an order, Smitty. Anyone that countermands that order will be facing an inquiry—anyone.” He looked around the area, then shouted. “Garret!”

  “Yes, Chief?” Garret said as he slid to a stop only a meter from Chief Simon.

  “What’s the current status of the candidates?”

  “Only eleven made it past the halfway marker. None of them cracked. Fourteen of the seventeen that were captured prior to the halfway mark cracked.”

  “So, fourteen remain,” the chief said almost to himself. “About normal.” He smiled. “Tomorrow and the next day are free days compliments of Jolie. Make sure everyone knows that.”

  “The colonel isn’t going to like that, Chief,” Garret said just above a whisper.

  “And who are you more scared of…an administrative colonel or me, a senior Tasmanian brother?” the chief shouted.

  “You, Chief,” came a chorus of loud shouts from every Tasmanian in the area.

  * * *

  I woke lying on a soft mattress and covered with a warm blanket, not wanting to open my eyes for fear of…waking from a dream, being dead and meeting God, or… I wasn’t sure. I knew I was close to death when I last closed my eyes. Now my body was alive with pain so I lived, but… Then I became aware of the smell—antiseptic. I was in a hospital. The thought that I had failed the exercise rose bile in my throat. In resignation, I opened my eyes and scanned the room. The room had at least ten beds but I appeared to be the only one in the ward. Tentatively, I moved my fingers. They felt stiff but otherwise all right. I took a deep breath and gasped out a cry of pain. My chest felt like I had swallowed an active volcano. I lay still but the pain spread into my arms and legs and tears slid down my cheeks.

  “Good morning, Jolie. I’m Dr. Quin. I was hoping the drugs would have kept you asleep longer. Your interrogation exceeded acceptable limits, and I’m issuing a complaint. Your near-death experience wasn’t an accident. It was done on purpose,” she said as she checked the monitor I was tethered to.

  “Am I being ejected from the school?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but I would think you would want out after what happened. What if it happens again?” She was probably evaluating my sanity.

  “Then his balls will occupy space with his brains. There should be plenty of room.” I tried to relax. “They had me in a cage. That won’t happen again.” I closed my eyes. “How long before I can join the class?”

  “You won’t be fully functional for several days, but you might be able to function if you can tolerate the pain and don’t overdo it. I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said.

  I didn’t leave the next day. Mostly I slept except for a short walk every several hours and working with the doctor to provide protection to cuts and infected areas.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Between a Hard Place and a Rock

  Like water, shit rolls downhill until it finds the lowest-ranking scapegoat, Zimmerman mused. General Barclay expects me to clean up his mess because I’m the head of the Tasmanian school. But that’s an illusion. I’m a figurehead there to take care of the administration. The Tasmanians run the school, and I have no authority over them. And with that damn doctor’s support, he could face an inquiry if he forced the issue. At this stage of her training, Luan’s odds of qualifying were excellent. Only a major injury or death could stop her, and even if he were willing, he didn’t know how he could make that happen. Chief Simon had made it perfectly clear that although he wouldn’t give Luan any help he wouldn’t tolerate interference.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Planet: Delphi: Fort Shiva: Unexpected Help

  I was up early the following day in time to dress and get to the barracks a few minutes before normal roll call. To my surprise, everyone was asleep and the alarm didn’t sound at zero six hundred hours. I sat on the edge of my bed, confused, when the door burst open and the alarm sounded.

  “Since candidate Luan is up and ready to go, your free days are canceled.” The room exploded into activity as the chief walked over to me and sat. “Our interrogation exercise is meant to be real but the emphasis is on invoking fear more than causing physical injury. I didn’t realize what they were doing as I was out inspecting the other eight interrogations. I can’t believe they didn’t crack you. If we had done what you endured to the other candidates, we would have lost the entire class.” He paused awaiting my response. When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “You obviously intend to continue training although the doctor told me you aren’t fit for duty.” He paused again until I nodded. “For the next five days, you can stop whatever we’re doing to rest. It will not be counted against you. Fair?”

  “Yes, Chief. Very fair. Thank you for saving me and letting me continue.”

  * * *

  I stopped the morning run about halfway. My lungs were on fire and every cut and bruise screamed as each foot hit the ground sending shockwaves radiating through my body. I walked back to the barracks and felt better by the time I arrived and participated in the morning stretching but not the strength exercises. Breakfast was a thankful rest. I had just sat when Frank and Paul joined me.

  “We thought we had lost you,” Frank said. “The
y thought you were dead.”

  “Me too,” I said, stuffing scrambled eggs and potatoes in my mouth. I felt starved and knew the food would help the healing.

  “I heard it was intentional. Someone high up in the food chain wants you to fail,” Paul said, looking worried.

  “The chief won’t help me, but I don’t think he will tolerate any interference. He’s given me five days to heal. So, what’s on the agenda this week?”

  “Self-defense,” Frank and Paul said simultaneously.

  * * *

  For the next five days, the chief and his two assistants taught a variety of techniques which tended to be of the kill and cripple rather than subdue or avoid variety. The remaining candidates were careful when demonstrating on me and each day I felt closer to normal.

  “Avery, Luan. Assume a fighting position,” Chief Simon said. He had us dressed in protective gear. “I want to see a clear winner, but no crippling moves. Begin!” he shouted and moved back.

  Avery, in his early twenties, was on the high-side of average, weighing around seventy-nine kilograms and standing just over one hundred eighty-six centimeters, and had defined muscles from weightlifting. His eyes were focused on me but a twitch of his lip suggested he was amused. I understood. No man wanted to be bested by a woman so he had to take me seriously but he faced someone ten centimeters shorter and twenty-six kilo lighter.

  He stepped forward, looking like he intended to throw a punch to my face, and executed a right front kick toward my chest. I twisted clockwise ninety degrees and the kick slid harmlessly past my chest. At the same time, my right arm swept up, pushing his leg higher and throwing him temporarily off balance. Then I swept my left leg through his supporting left leg and he went airborne. The air exploded out of him as he hit the floor and before he could recover I executed a right front kick to his head. Since I didn’t straighten my leg the force was significantly reduced. It was obvious I could have killed him without the protective head gear and maybe caused a minor concussion even with the headgear.