Cougar's Roar

by Jim Mohr

  Just like Atlanta, the gym facilities at Wisconsin Illinois base are pristine and contain more equipment than a person could want. The weight rooms are always occupied, the basketball court is always in use, the handball court is as noisy as ever. It is 3 o’clock on a Friday and everything else in the gym area is empty. There are only a few second shift troops occupying the gym at this time. I sense Cougar when we enter the gym.

  In the back of the gym, he stands working out. His back is to us and he is practicing karate. I see two human women not far off watching him. I enter their minds. Their lust filled thoughts fill my head as we walk toward Cougar.

  “That him?” asks Owl. “Damn!” She doesn’t wait for my response. I would not give her one anyway. I’m too busy glaring at those filthy human women lusting after Cougar.

  Dove finally speaks, her voice is cracking with emotion. “I can sense your pain Cheetah. Why don’t you talk to him?”

  “What? I could never. I’m just a girl, look at him!”

  “He’s two years older than you, right? Fair game for me then,” Owl replies.

  Cougar finishes his karate form and bows to an imaginary opponent. He rotates to face us. His grace and poise amaze me. He truly is a cat.

  “That didn’t take long,” he says as he looks at the three of us.

  “Hello Cougar, or recruit Reed, I mean. This is Jeni Constance, Owl. This is Mary Degrass, Dove.”

  Cougar nods slightly to both birds. “Hello. Ma’am, you aren’t here for more interrogations, are you?”

  “No, Cougar. Please don’t call me ma’am okay? We’re friends, call me Dena.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge the correction. The sweat from his workout glistens on his face, arms, and legs. His calves are gorgeously cut, as are his shoulders and arms.

  “What is it?” he asks.

  “Cougar, I have a letter that your mother sent to my mother. That is why I am here.” Dove pulls the yellowed letter from her pocket.

  “You know, I’m really not in the mood for this. I think I’ve already had enough for one day.”

  I can sense Cougar’s power simmering. His defensive power must be incredible. “Cougar, we can’t spend the day. Security only granted us enough time for this meeting. Dove is here to help you.”

  “Help me?” he says looking at Dove. “How? Can you help me get that greasy little fucker Funnel Web or Taipan? That bastard fucked up my revenge by killing Gerdt.”

  Owl shivers at the mention of Taipan’s name. She exhales deeply and then speaks. “This is what I was talking about with the cats, Dove. Every single one of them is like this.”

  Cougar’s head snaps toward Owl as his eyes burn. His power is growing more restless. “What other cats?”

  “Lion,” I answer. “They went to see Lion. It didn’t go well.”

  Cougar’s head nods as he understands. “So, what is this help, Dove?”

  Dove steps forward, toward Cougar. His right foot gracefully slides back so his feet are in a shorter version of a forward stance. He wants to fight. “I am an empath, Cougar. I can take away your pain.”

  “No thanks, I’ll pass. Nice meeting you though, goodbye.” His answer is abrupt and rude.

  “Cougar, you don’t have to get angry,” I plead, aware of his fighting stance. “She can help you. You still have nightmares about Todd Vance. I saw them when I was reading your mind. She can help with all of that. Your dad, the Timere class…” A wave of power emanates from Cougar. The mention of the Timere class has aroused something in him, his eyes flash with power as his defensive power awakens.

  “I don’t need my private history broadcast to a bunch of strangers. You read my mind as a part of the interrogation, not for some fucking emotional link or psychological eval. Keep your fucking mouth shut, Cheetah. You don’t know shit about me.”

  I feel warm, perhaps I have overstepped my bounds. “Okay, I’m sorry.” My hands rise instinctively. I can see his muscles twitching for action. If he pounces, I have to move. If he grabs me, he could crush me. “Cougar, calm down. We aren’t here to fight. If you don’t want Dove’s help, then fine, we’ll leave.”

  “Is everything okay?” The voice comes from behind us, it is Sergeant Montclair. “Cougar, are you all right?”

  I turn to face the Sergeant. “Everything is fine Sergeant. We are just talking.”

  “He doesn’t look like he’s fine,” she responds as she points to Cougar. “He looks like he wants to beat you to death.”

  These humans, interjecting into Psychokinetic business, they are rubbing me raw. “It’s fine, Sergeant. Go find something else to do.”

  “Excuse me?” she says as her brow furrows. “Listen, Lieutenant, you received a battlefield promotion. You haven’t been through BOT yet. Right now, your rank is just for show. I’m responsible for recruit Reed. I’m also stationed in this facility, you aren’t. You go find something else to do.”

  I can sense the two human women watching us, curious about the collection of females around Cougar. More lust coming from them. Humans, all three of them, lusting after Cougar. “Get lost, human!” My anger is getting the better of me as I yell the words.

  Owl clears her throat. “Cheetah, there’s no need to be like that. Humanity finally is finished with racism, and you start the Human/Psychokinetic thing. Apologize to her.”

  Sergeant Montclair is glaring at me. Cougar’s anger is simmering. His readiness to fight is draining his power, I can feel it.

  “Fine,” I say as I turn to Cougar, “you know what, you damn idiot, you can spend your life chained up if you…” The world slows as Cougar pounces at me. His punch misses my head by centimeters. The fight is on.

  Chapter 39

  Cougar—Wisconsin Illinois Base

  The image of my poor, dear Gabrielle, chained in a submissive position, being sodomized by that bastard, Gerdt. My heart burns with anger in a way I have never felt before.

  I am slightly out of position as I leap at Dena. My spear hand strike would have knocked her out had it connected. She moves at the last instant, I strike only air.

  A painful blow lands on the right side of my rib cage. Her punch is too fast for me to see. She isn’t strong enough to knock the wind out of my lungs, but it hurts all the same. I rotate, she stands in front of me in a fighting stance closer to something originating in Southeast Asia. She is no longer Dena, she is Cheetah.

  I slide gracefully into my favorite karate fighting stance, the half-moon stance. My feet are further than shoulder width apart, they are angled inward slightly. My hands are guarding my groin and my rib cage. She is too fast for me. I need combinations of moves and hope I catch her while striking. If I catch her, she is mine.

  I advance toward her as I swing in a crescent kick; the inside of my foot passing chin level. I follow it up with a back punch. She moves, avoiding each strike. I reach hoping to grapple with her, I catch only air.

  Pain shoots through my face and I taste blood. More pain in my sternum. I tighten my stomach muscles just as she strikes my stomach. My movements are too slow for her. I can tell she is toying with me. I reach for her arm with my left hand, but I again only grab air.

  “You’re too slow, Cougar,” she taunts me. “If this is what you need to do to calm down, then so be it.”

  I assume the cat stance as I switch to kung fu. I advance again in a hail of circular kicks and punches. I need only to touch her…

  My eye burns as her punch strikes it squarely. More pain as my lip splits. She slaps the back of my head and kicks me in the ass. She is taunting me. Her taunts just renew the burning anger inside me. I telegraph my attacks and switch them up, hoping to trick her. It is useless, she isn’t predicting my strikes, she is avoiding them entirely.

  Across the room, I sense an unused weightlifting bar. My telekinesis grabs it as the bar leaps into my hand. I assume a forward fi
ghting stance, the bar diagonal across my chest.

  “Put the bar down, Cougar!” Cheetah yells.

  “Okay, enough is enough. Knock it off you two crazy ass cats,” Owl interjects.

  “Come on, get some,” I invite Cheetah.

  “Do you think you can stop me with that? Really?” I see her hand go to her Kastane sword. Her eyes flash when her fingers touch the hilt of the sword. She bounces lightly on her feet.

  My anger evaporates as images of killing Todd Vance, of killing the protesters outside Prague base while I was training, of killing the assassins’ weeks earlier, flood my mind. Fighting in school, hating Timere, every lie I have ever told, every pain I have ever inflicted on someone. Every lustful thought, failing Gabrielle, kissing Nada and leading her to believe we could be lovers. I collapse in shame. I hear clearly, “I AM DOVE, AND I SAID STOP!” I have been struck by her power of empathy.

  ***

  Sergeant Carrie Montclair

  As the fight progresses I can see the artistic qualities of Cougar. His tough demeanor is hiding such a vibrant, loving, beautiful interior. Lieutenant Smith seems like a spoiled little bitch who cares more about getting with Cougar, then acting with any dignity. She knows that her taunts are feeding his anger. She continues with them as she abuses him with her strikes.

  The woman in white seems to grow in anger, but it isn’t anger, it is different. She keeps pleading, “Stop, stop, please stop.” But her meek voice isn’t heard. Then she yells: “I AM DOVE, AND I SAID STOP!” Every bad thing that I’ve ever done in my life flashes through my mind.

  My breath is taken away as things I have long forgotten run through my mind. I go to one knee as tears form in my eyes. If I cry, I won’t be able to stop. I can’t help it, I can’t hold it back. I am such a wretched person, so evil. I’ve hurt so many people in my life, I’ve been so inconsiderate, unforgiving, spiteful, and hateful. I look up, Cougar is lying on the ground, he is covering his face. The woman, Dove, is standing over him.

  “I came here to help you. I understand why you attacked Cheetah. I do.” Dove bends low and touches his hair. “Cougar, I am Dove. I am an empath. I mean you no harm. Your soul is poisoned with hatred and the desire for revenge. I understand why. I would like to free you from the pain of the dead that you carry. Your father is gone. You hate him still, why?”

  Cougar sobs deeply. “He beat me, he beat my mom. God, I hate him.”

  Dove’s head turns as she grabs his head in her hands and gently kisses the back of it. “Cougar, I take the pain in you that was inflicted by your father. He’s gone and you needn’t hate him any longer.”

  The hair on my arms and neck bristle as Cougar’s shoulders collapse. He is broken. I feel deeply for him, I am sorry for him.

  I look at the woman in brown, she is looking at me. She is crying. “She’s some shit ain’t she?” She nods slightly toward Dove.

  Cougar rises to his feet, wiping his eyes, his voice sounds more like a growl than a language. “What did you do to me?” he looks at Dove.

  “Cougar, I healed part of you, your being, your soul.”

  “You had no right to do that. My hatred is my own. My feelings for my father were justified. You took them.”

  “The memories are still there, only the damage done is gone. If you want to delve into the memories, you may harm yourself. The actual emotional and psychological damage done by John Reed is gone tho.” Dove stands straight and is toe–to-toe with Cougar. She does not fear him.

  Lieutenant Smith wipes her face as she speaks. “Cougar, I am sorry for hitting you. Forgive me.”

  “I forgive you, Cheetah,” he replies.

  Owl clears her throat. “Cheetah, your little human comment still needs to be addressed.”

  Lieutenant Smith approaches me. “Sergeant Montclair, I referred to your species in a hateful, derogatory way. I am sorry,” she bows slightly.

  “Lieutenant regardless of recruit Reed’s apology you struck him. You struck a recruit. I’ll point out to you that as a Sergeant in this facility, I am obligated to report this. I could care less how you refer to me. You will not, however, strike the recruit that I am responsible for.”

  She looks at me as her eyes change slightly. Is she reading my mind? She turns to Cougar. “Cougar, she is serious,” her voice cracks with sorrow.

  “Sergeant Montclair, please don’t. We Psychokinetics sometimes just need to kick some ass. It’s okay.” Cougar smiles softly at me. I think I have feelings for him. His smile touches me so.

  “Well, the cats do this shit. Honey, we birds talk about our issues. Except for Falcon, the filthy roadkill eater. The bitch killed Mister Beauregard.”

  I look at the woman called Owl. “You three need to leave now. With whatever authority that I have, I am requesting you leave this facility. For Cougar, I’ll withhold reporting this. You stay any longer, however, and I will report it.”

  Lieutenant Smith lowers her head. She appears as if she is ashamed. “Goodbye, Cougar. I’m heading back to Atlanta.” She turns and walks across the floor toward the door.

  Dove touches Cougar’s chest. “You have friends, Cougar. Don’t let your hatred of the Timere destroy your love and sour your life. You have a lovely soul.” She lowers her hand and follows Lieutenant Smith.

  Owl looks at me, then at Cougar. “You have a nice butt, by the way,” Owl says. Cougar smiles as he watches Dove. “Very soon, Cougar, you’ll understand that we are all in this war. You aren’t alone,” she nods and follows Dove. I can sense the wisdom in this Owl woman. Her words are odd as if she were speaking from a premonition. The southern woman’s charm and her rough edges intrigue me.

  As they exit the training room Cougar approaches me. His split lip is healed. The blood on his shirt is still moist. He touches my hand softly. “Thank you, Sergeant Montclair.” He smiles again as his touch causes my skin to tingle.

  “So, tell me, could you have beaten her?” I ask.

  He is holding my hand. He gently squeezes it. I don’t want to pull away. “No, not when I fight like a human. Thanks for reminding me. I have to fight her as a Psychokinetic if I ever face her again.” He winks at me.

  Oh hell, I think I’m falling for this maniac.

  Chapter 40

  Sergeant Carrie Montclair—Wisconsin Illinois Base

  Cougar is deep in thought as I escort him back to his residence. He acts as if he were struggling with some decision. The horrible things he has learned today have taken their toll on him. I dare not ask him about it, so we end up not talking. As we arrive at his residence, 71B15, he finally speaks.

  “I should have read that note that Dove had. The note that she said was from my mom.”

  “Cougar, you want me to have them stopped?”

  He pauses as he contemplates. “No, let them go. My mom is gone, dead probably. Let her be.” He opens his door and disappears from view.

  My journey to my own residence is even more depressing. In a short time, I’ve gone from viewing Cougar as an egotistical, self-centered, jerk, to something else. The more that I learn about him, the more I desire to learn. I am seeing him as a young man who has been tortured, abandoned, and has lived without love. He is fighting for his life, in a manner of speaking.

  My residence is slightly larger than a Sergeants allotment should be. I try to keep it clean and tidy. I have succeeded, except now my kitchen table is covered by files and reports on Cougar. It looks as if I am a college student who has taken on too many classes.

  I change into my favorite loose-fitting sweatpants and my ragged old T-shirt. I pour myself a glass of red Zinfandel and sit for some reading from the library of Cougar Reed. This is the life of a single woman in this war. One report I have just delved into is from Major Yarrow. Cougar knew him as Vlad Mikhailov.

  I sip the wine as I read. “Cougar has surrounded himself with people who will eit
her aid in his escape or strengthen his powers. Nada Dvorak is by far his closest friend. He is close with his marksmanship Captain, his physical training coach, and he has had several meetings with one of the nurses. The Dvorak family recently has purchased four tickets to the Lucerna Great Hall for a concert featuring the music of Beethoven. It was only eighteen months ago that Cougar was removed from the Art and Literature course and yet he is still drawn to it. Is there a connection between Psychokinetics and art, or is it just this boy?”

  “My documentation of Cougar is for possible future reference. I was there when the boy was taken; I saw his face when his father was murdered. I cannot help but think that this boy is playing a role, he is acting. I believe he is pretending to fit in here in Prague, biding his time as it were. His motives are very different than other boys his age and his thoughts are well beyond his years. They are concerned with winning small fights, small contests. Cougar concerns himself with getting stronger, winning wars. He requests his hand-to-hand combat opponents be the strongest, fastest in the class. If he is matched against an inferior opponent, he fights the opponent with his hands tied behind his back.”

  “I feel he holds no loyalty to the Resistance. I intend on pushing his education and manipulating his duty assignment for possible future capture and recruitment by the Alliance. It is my belief that we cannot let the Resistance acquire more Psychokinetics than what they currently have. Least of all, we cannot let them keep this boy. If this boy were tamed, if his power and drive tapped, he would be an awesome leader.”

  Another entry reads: “Today, during rifle practice, a group of protestors gathered outside our compound. Their taunts riled one student, in particular, Junior Sergeant Cougar Reed. His commanding officer ordered Reed to disperse the crowd. The order was intended to test the boy’s leadership style. Reed turned his rifle on the crowd and killed the three loudest protestors. He then informed the remaining protestors, who were shocked at the carnage, to “Disperse immediately or they would taste lead as well.” No charges were filed against Reed as his Commanding officer noted the crowd dispersed. Command style: Authoritarian.”