Shadow Warrior: Destiny of a Mutant

by Larry Townley

  To the crowd that had surrounded Will, Hauser said, “Boys, if I were you I wouldn’t fuck with him. Besides, there are only twelve of you - you might want to go get some more help.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” said someone in the crowd to Hauser.

  “Well, I just hope you guys have a good hospital nearby. You’re gonna need it,” Hauser retorted.

  “The only one who’s gonna need a hospital is this motherfucker right here,” replied Davis, who had been given another knife by one of his buddies after Davis couldn’t pull the other one out of the wooden column that Will had buried it in. Davis brandished it towards Will, who only looked annoyed and rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly.

  Davis then moved towards Will with a forward thrusting motion. Will countered it by stepping to the side and grabbing Davis’ wrist, twisted it to the outside, and threw him ten or more feet to the left. The sound of Davis’ wrist and arm bones snapping was audible enough to be heard over the noisy crowd.

  Davis screamed as he felt his wrist and arm break. At the same time, another large redneck then grabbed Will from behind while another charged him from in front. As the one in front came close enough, Will raised himself effortlessly off the ground, enveloped the neck of the man in front of him with both of his feet, and then snapped his body sideways, taking both of the men down with him. He disengaged from them and immediately returned to his feet.

  As Will got back up, two more rednecks advanced towards him. Will leapt into the air and performed a flawless double front snap kick to the chins of the two men, which broke their jaws and knocked both of them out instantly.

  More of the rednecks charged Will, each hoping to get a piece of the big man, but none were able to lay a finger on him as he punched, blocked, parried, and threw a variety of side, back, and hook kicks to the throng of angry men who were trying their best to hurt him. Finally, with fear in their heart, the rest of the mob ran off or went back inside of the bar, leaving their wounded companions unconscious or writhing in pain on the ground.

  As the last ones left, Hauser couldn’t resist calling out to the rapidly fleeing group, “I told you not to fuck with him.”

  “Captain, I thought I told you and your men to report back to base.”

  Hauser and his men, who had gotten out of their cars, snapped to attention.

  “Sorry, sir. We didn’t want to miss the show,” he said smiling.

  Will, however, was not smiling. “Return to base now, gentlemen.”

  “Yes, sir,” they all replied and returned to their cars to leave. Hauser’s smile quickly faded from his face.

  Inside of their cars, Hess turned to Hauser and said, “You see that shit? The son of a bitch was just playing with those assholes.”

  “I know, but you know what he said earlier…no questions. Personally, I don’t want to piss him off again, so we will not bring this up anymore. Is that understood, Lieutenant?”

  “Aye, aye, sir. But, you know,” Hess said, looking around the semi-deserted street, “I wonder where his Jeep is.”

  As the last of his men’s Jeeps pulled out of sight, Will stepped into the shadows of a nearby building and then took off running at hyper-speed back to the base.

  ***

  As they lay down for the night, Serrano could not get to sleep, partly because Schultz and Becker were snoring loud enough to wake the dead, and because he was thinking about the mission. In his wildest dreams he never would have imagined being a part of something like he was a part of now.

  His emotions were running the gamut from eagerness to anxiety, exhilaration to fear, and everything in between. His stomach had been in knots since his near fatal mishap on the mountain and then the whole ordeal at the bar. He was amazed that Becker and Schultz had not had a problem falling asleep after what had happened over the last few days. He just hoped that he was up for whatever lay ahead of them over the next few days. He knew that no matter what happened, it would definitely be interesting. As he lay down and tried to sleep, his thoughts then drifted to his parents and how much he missed them.

  Serrano had been born in Spain to a Spanish-American father and a German mother. His parents had been visiting his paternal grandparents in Madrid when his mother went into labor a few weeks prematurely, and she had to be rushed to a local hospital. After a short convalescence, Serrano and his parents returned to America. As Serrano grew, his father insisted that the boy learn to speak the Castilian Spanish of his ancestors, as well as English, and his mother insisted that he learn to speak German as well. They both had their way, and Serrano excelled at all of them.

  His father owned a Spanish restaurant on Chicago‘s south side, where Serrano grew up. His mother was the bookkeeper for the family business. The neighborhood he grew up in was a mix of races and cultures, some of whom did not get along very well with the others. This led to Serrano being thrown into many street fights just to prove himself tough enough to walk the streets of his barrio. He learned to use his hands and feet very well.

  When Serrano was fourteen his mother became pregnant with a second child, but there were complications and she died during childbirth. His father was grief stricken and inconsolable over their deaths. Several days later, his father was killed in a car accident after he ran a red light during a thunderstorm, and was broadsided by a semi-truck. He died instantly.

  Because he was a minor and had no immediate family in the United States, the State of Illinois made Serrano a ward of the State. The State officials tried to make contact with his paternal and maternal grandparents to see if they wanted to raise the child. However, they learned that his paternal grandparents had died of influenza years earlier, and his maternal grandparents had died years before the child was born. He remained a ward of the State until he was eighteen and old enough to take care of himself, as no one wanted to adopt a kid that was almost grown.

  As soon as he was old enough, he joined the Army and gravitated towards the Airborne Rangers.

  Of all of Hauser’s men, Serrano looked the most like one of the Aryan race. He was over six feet tall with a lean, muscular physique. He had thick, straight blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and movie star good looks.

  Chapter 51

  Fort Benning

  The following morning, Will and his men ate their breakfast, and completed their workout regimen as usual - but at an even harder pace. When they were done and had showered, they stood in formation at parade rest as Will informed them what the day’s training held in store for them.

  “Gentlemen, I’m aware that all of you are jump-qualified. I believe that Mr. Hauser probably has the most number of jumps at fifty-eight. Who else has twenty-five or more jumps under his belt?”

  All members of the team raised their hands.

  “Excellent. Okay, now what is the highest altitude any of you has ever jumped from?”

  They all started calling out numbers. Hauser was the highest at 12,000 feet. Hammond was the lowest at 9,000 feet. Everyone else fell in between.

  “Now for the bad news. When we insert the team into Germany for this mission, we can’t take any chances at having the Germans know we’ve entered their airspace. Therefore, we’ll be jumping from an altitude of approximately 60,000 feet.”

  At hearing this number, all of them started murmuring loudly amongst themselves. Hauser then quieted them down and said, “Sir, no one has ever jumped from 60,000 feet. It’s too cold and there’s very little oxygen. It would be suicide.”

  “Actually, you’re wrong, Captain. I’ve jumped from that height many times.” Of course Will was not being truthful - since he could fly there was no need to jump out of an airplane with a parachute, but he obviously could not reveal that to his team. However, he wanted to give them confidence that a jump from that high was possible.

  At hearing Will’s admission regarding his jumps from that height, there were some shakes of the head that indicated that they didn’t believe what he was saying.

  “Gentlemen, the Army has de
signed a light-weight insulated jumpsuit to protect you from the cold, and you’ll be breathing oxygen from a container like this.” Will reached down into his rucksack and pulled out a full facemask that was attached to a small oxygen canister. “The rest of our training will consist of learning to jump from the height I mentioned with this new gear.

  “Inside of my tent you will find a rucksack with your name on it with the insulated jumpsuit, oxygen mask, and a new style of parachute that will allow you to be able to control your descent and land exactly where you want to land. Instead of the round canopied chutes you are familiar with, this one is rectangular with guide ropes that make it easier for you to control your descent and point of landing.

  “You can also set it to open automatically at a certain altitude in the event you are injured or go unconscious. One additional feature of this parachute is that once you land, the chute automatically repacks itself into its pack so you don’t get tangled in it, and you don‘t have to spend the time repacking it yourself.”

  Intrigued, the men then went and retrieved their rucksacks from Will’s tent. The parachutes and other gear were a mix of Altrusian and Terran technology.

  “Okay then. Stow your gear in the Jeeps, and let’s move out to the airfield,” said Will.

  Will and his men then loaded themselves into their Jeeps and drove the ten miles to the airfield. Once there, they saw the plane they would be using for the day - a modified C-47 transport plane. The pilot, Tim Dunmoreland, approached Will, saluted, and introduced himself.

  “Colonel Clark? I’m Captain Dunmoreland, I’ll be your pilot for the rest of the day or as long as you need me, sir,” he said with a slight Texas twang.

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Will, returning the salute. “I need you ready for takeoff in about thirty minutes. Did you get word that we would be going up to 60,000 feet?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. But to be honest with you, I thought someone was pulling my leg, sir. I’ve never heard of anyone jumping out of a plane at that height before. I’ve had my plane that high several times; she’s all pressurized and fixed up for oxygen to breathe at that altitude.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Just make sure the plane is ready to go in thirty minutes. We‘ll be doing a few practice jumps at lower altitudes first.”

  The pilot saluted Will and said, “Yes, sir.” He then turned and went back to ready his plane for takeoff. Crazy son of a bitch, thought the pilot as he shook his head.

  Will and his men then went inside the closest hangar where he spent the next few minutes helping his men get their gear ready to go. He showed them how to don their insulated jumpsuits and oxygen facemasks. He showed them, on a chalkboard that had been provided for his use, how to control the new style parachute they would be using; how it could be used to control and slow their descent, and how to turn it left or right.

  Afterwards they boarded the plane. The pilot took them up to 15,000 feet where they would do their first practice jump.

  “Okay, men. You will not need your oxygen masks for this altitude, but I want you to wear it for a couple of reasons. The first is to get used to wearing it. And second, before ascending to 60,000 feet, your bodies need to adjust to the altitude by breathing one-hundred percent oxygen for approximately one hour, so that when we make it to 60,000, you don’t get nitrogen narcosis, a term my Navy divers will recognize as another name for the ‘bends‘.” Hess and Hammond nodded at hearing this term.

  Schechter then asked, “So, what happens if we get that nitrogen nar...whatchacallit thing you mentioned?”

  “Your body can suffer from hypoxia, which can cause you to go unconscious, rendering you unable to open your parachute. And although these chutes are designed to open if you go unconscious, I’ll let you use your imagination as to what would happen to you if that happened over very rocky terrain or the ocean,” Will said.

  A couple of the men gulped audibly.

  Over the intercom, the pilot said, “Colonel, we’re coming up on your drop site in three minutes.”

  “Okay, gents, you heard the man. Hook into your static lines for this first one. Remember: don’t pull your cords until you’re at 2,000 feet.”

  All of their heads nodded indicating they understood.

  As a unit, they attached to their static lines while Will opened the side door of the plane. Will acted as the jump master, and would be the last man out of the plane. He gave them a thumbs up and each man returned the gesture to let him know they were ready.

  “Thirty seconds, Colonel,” came the pilot’s voice over the intercom.

  “Standby,” Will said to his team.

  Suddenly, the green “go” light came on over the door.

  Will started shouting, “Go! Go! Go!”

  Hauser was first out of the door, followed by Hess, Schechter, Robbins, and the rest of the team. Will made sure all of them had jumped, and then he jumped after them. Will stayed above them to make sure there were no problems with their chutes.

  At approximately 2,000 feet, Hauser pulled his chute, and with a whoosh, he sprang back up into air almost a hundred and fifty feet and then began his gentle glide down to earth. There was a fifty foot circle painted on the open field they were aiming for, with five smaller concentric circles painted inside of the larger circle. The bullseye was only eight feet in diameter. The goal was to land in the center, or as close to it as possible.

  Hauser was a natural at parachuting, and he easily learned to manage controlling the new style chute. He landed softly about ten feet outside of the center. None of the rest of the men hit the target either, but Hauser had come the closest. Serrano missed the circle completely by about twenty feet. However, for their first time using their new parachutes, they all did exceptionally well.

  Even though Will had advised them that the parachute repacked itself, they were shocked to see that it actually worked. Will landed last, landing in the center of the target. As soon as Will was down, he told them to get ready for another run. Will watched as the pilot landed on the tarmac and taxied towards their hangar.

  “That was real nice there, Colonel,” said Captain Dunmoreland, as he approached the group a couple of minutes after landing.

  “Nice flying, Captain. Get ready for another run. This time we’ll take her up to 20,000 feet.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  Hauser came up to Will while they were rechecking each other’s gear before their next jump.

  “Sir, just to let you know these insulated suits worked perfectly, and the masks were very comfortable. We all loved the new style of parachute; it made our landings more manageable and softer than we thought possible.”

  “You and your men did an excellent job for their first time at using the new equipment, Captain. Let‘s do it again. This time we‘re going up to 20,000 feet.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You did pretty well yourself.”

  ***

  The jumps from 20,000, 25,000 and 30,000 feet went even better than Will had hoped they would. With each jump, his men gained a new degree of confidence and quickly became experts in the use of the new equipment. All of them hit the bullseye, or just outside of it, on a regular basis. Will planned on doing three jumps from 60,000 feet and calling it a day. They were ahead of schedule. Will would give them a day of rest, and then they would head out for their mission the day after tomorrow. He would give them their final briefing in the morning.

  ***

  Mark Robbins’ muscles ached from all of the training they had been put through the last couple of days. He wondered if it was too late to back out of this mission. He feared what could happen during the mission to try and rescue the aliens, but he was more afraid that he wasn’t good enough to pull his weight.

  As the son of German parents who had immigrated to Australia in the 1920’s, he had been born and raised near Sydney. As a child, teen and young adult, he had spent a lot of time in the wild Australian outback, where he honed his survival skills and shooting abilities. His par
ents had owned a bakery and instilled in him a strong work ethic.

  He had been devastated when his mother died when he was only ten. When his father remarried five years later, he hated him for it. Over time, he forgave his father and came to love his step-mother as well. During his forays into the outback, he became friends with a group of aborigines and learned a lot of their language and culture during his visits with them. During the summers he often lived with them for weeks at a time. As soon as he was old enough, he joined the Australian Army and soon gravitated towards its Special Forces branch, where he soon learned that he really liked jumping out of airplanes. He prayed those skills would be enough to see him through this mission.

  Chapter 52

  Altrusia

  1480 A.D.

  Will continued modifying his uniform and starship cruiser at night. Although the Altrusian’s technology was some of the most advanced in the universe, Will outdid himself in the field of engineering, and his designs and engineering skills would produce the next generation of Altrusian technology.

  Will redesigned the uniform he was to wear so that it would not only conceal his Terran origins, but it would hold up to the rigorous work he was about to embark upon. The suit was black in color and was composed of a mixture of woven Infinitum and tyrilium, which allowed it to be not only almost as invulnerable as he was but to also be light-weight and flexible. In the center of the chest was the slightly raised symbol of the Guardians. The gloves and boots were made part of the suit, and were not separate pieces. Will also incorporated a laser weapon in the control panel bracelets that surrounded the gloves of his Guardian uniform that could be adjusted to go from mild to deadly in milliseconds.

  It also had a solid face mask that covered his entire face so that no one could see his features to determine his identity or Terran origin. The inside of the mask was like looking at an advanced heads-up display with different functions and readouts in the Altrusian language, or whatever language was chosen. This feature was visible only when Will wanted it to be; otherwise, it was invisible.