Elite

by Joseph C. Anthony

  Elise was utterly “cut,” with not an ounce of fat to be seen anywhere on her body. When she worked up a sweat her muscles glistened perfectly as the light reflected off the moisture built up on her muscular physique. If she were made of stone she would have easily been mistaken for a Greek god – yes god, not goddess.

  Though her body was unusually ripped for that of a woman, her facial features were quite feminine. She had gorgeous bleach blonde hair that would have reached her shoulders had she ever worn it down, but every time Daniel had seen her she had it up in a short, messy ponytail.

  Her skin was smooth and silky, with a very mild complexion. Not too tan, not too pale. Just right, in Daniel’s opinion. Had she not looked so masculine from the neck down, he probably would have considered her an incredibly attractive woman.

  “There’s enough to work with there that you still think about it,” Charlie had once said about Elise, and Daniel agreed. Though it created questionable feelings within him, he couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to be with Elise.

  The woman was in shape, to say the very least.

  “So, Golden Boy,” she said to Daniel as he turned to greet her. “Mister Richfield wants me to put you on the fast-track to becoming a badass. Says you’ve got more potential than most.”

  Daniel shrugged off the comment, trying not to blush. He didn’t want to come off cocky right from the get-go.

  “I have a unique skillset,” he said with less modesty than he had intended.

  Elise cocked her head and stared at him for a few seconds with a lopsided grin. She wore a black sports bra with a purple elastic band around the bottom, and matching black workout pants with a purple waistband.

  “So I hear,” she finally responded, sounding a bit suspicious.

  After a few more seconds of staring at each other awkwardly, she finally said, “Well let’s get started then, shall we?”

  Daniel nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

  Elise spoke with a voice that carried just a hint of rasp. It sounded similar to that of an adolescent boy. Her words also carried a noticeable California “surfer-dude” flavor to them.

  “So in Krav Maga,” she began, as they took their place in the center of one of the sparring mats, “the weapon always leads first.”

  “Sounds pretty badass,” Daniel blurted.

  “It is,” Elise agreed. “It’s not about playing nice, it’s about causing damage. If someone attacks you, who gives a shit about fighting fair?” She said emphatically, as if she had some experience on the matter. “The object is to use whatever part of your body can cause the most damage – knuckles, forearms, shins – and use them to attack whatever spots are most vulnerable to damage on your attacker – the face, throat, thumbs and groin.”

  Daniel felt his eyebrow reflexively shoot up after that last one.

  “We ask that you please don’t use any groin attacks in the challenge ring or while sparring,” she explained. “We don’t need to be neutering our fellow agents.

  “But if someone out on the street is threatening either you or more importantly the client, take the fucker down by any means necessary.”

  Daniel forced back a laugh and instead downgraded it to a hearty smile. He had heard that Elise had a potty-mouth. He wondered if she was ever in the navy.

  “Let’s start with our fighting position,” she said, jumping right into the training.

  Daniel nodded and shifted his weight, preparing to lift his fists up in front of his face or something of that nature.

  Elise just stood in place, staring at him, her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms down at her sides.

  “Like me,” she finally said after Daniel had sufficiently embarrassed himself.

  Daniel did as he was told and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart and his arms at his side.

  “In Krav Maga we always start from a point of disadvantage,” Elise explained. “When an attacker comes at you on the street, you’re never going to be prepared for it. So we always start like this, and all of the moves I will teach you are based off of our natural reflexes.”

  “Cool,” Daniel said, beginning to really respect the Israeli who had thought up this aggressive, yet intuitive form of self-defense.

  “Now when I say, we are going to take a few steps like we are walking down the street, minding our own business. Then when I give the signal, I want you to jump into position like this…”

  And with that she sprung up with her feet, moving her right foot into position behind her body but still in line with her shoulder, and he left foot out in front.

  “Now when you do this, make sure your back heel is off the ground, so that you’re ready to push off with your foot at any moment,” she said, pointing back at her right foot. “Then when I say ‘forward,’ I want you to push off and throw your body forward. When I say ‘back,’ I want you to push off the ground with your front heel and send your body backward, like this…”

  As she finished her sentence she pushed off with her front leg and sprung her body backward.

  “Got it?” She asked.

  Daniel nodded in understanding.

  “Okay, then let’s get into position,” she said, moving over to the edge of the circle on the mat.

  She continued lecturing as she moved into position. “You always want to use the ground for leverage. Everything in Krav Maga starts from the ground up.”

  Daniel again nodded, anxious to dive in.

  “Okay, here we go,” Elise said as she started moving forward. “Step, step, step, and…attack!”

  And with that both Daniel and Elise sprang into action, moving their feet into combat position.

  “Now forward!” Elise shouted, commanding Daniel to push off with the ball of his back foot.

  “Back!” She yelled, and both her and Daniel pushed off their front foot and jumped a few feet back.

  “Forward!...Back!...Forward!...Forward!...Back!...Back!...” she continued, until she was finally satisfied that Daniel had gotten it.

  “Good,” she said, taking a breath and placing her hands on her hips. “See, not that hard.”

  “You’re right,” Daniel agreed. “What’s next?”

  The rest of the moves that Elise showed Daniel were simple, but there was a lot of information for Daniel to absorb, such as how to properly throw a punch.

  “Keep your elbows down and attack upwards, which gives you better leverage and more power behind your punch. Also to make contact with your second knuckle so as to cause more damage and leave you less likely to break a finger.”

  Elise also showed Daniel how to properly shift his weight while kicking to deliver the hardest blow.

  She ran him through those exercises multiple times and before Daniel knew it his two hour lesson was up. On his way over to the door he noticed Doctor Horchoff standing there waiting for him, a grim look upon his face.

  “After lunch, meet me down on the medical level for your next training,” Horchoff told him.

  “What training is that again?” Daniel inquired. He had forgotten that the third three-week stage of his training consisted of combat training as well as something else.

  “Pain management,” Horchoff answered plainly, glancing up at Daniel with his grey eyes, his face looking more pale than usual.

  Then he turned and walked out the door as Daniel watched him go. He was suddenly a little afraid of what the doctor might have in store for him.

  Daniel sat and ate his lunch in near terror as he contemplated what things Horchoff could have in store for him in his “pain management” training. He had remembered Richfield listing it off as one of the aspects of his training back when this whole thing began, but hadn’t really considered what that might entail. The concept was for him to learn how to control his body’s ability to feel – or in this case not feel – pain. It hadn’t crossed his mind that to do so he would have to learn from actual experience.

  He hoped that whatever Horchoff had planned it was
n’t too sadistic. The expression on his face after Daniel’s combat training had been rather concerning.

  Horchoff was waiting for Daniel just outside the elevator when Daniel came down to the Medical level after his lunch. Without speaking, Horchoff gestured for Daniel to follow, and lead him through the maze that was the medical level. The route they took was one that was vaguely familiar to Daniel.

  After a minute of walking, Horchoff opened the door to one of the operating rooms and held it open for Daniel. With slight hesitation, Daniel slowly walked through the doorway.

  While the route to the room may have been vaguely familiar, the image of the room itself was one that Daniel would never forget.

  Dim, translucent lighting filled the room, giving it a blue tint as it reflected off of the many metallic surfaces that lined the edges of the walls. The ceiling was two stories high. Windows looked down on the lower half of the room from two of the second story walls.

  In the middle of the room sat a padded chair – like a dentist’s chair. It was the very same chair in which Daniel had sat during his operation just two months prior.

  “Look familiar?” Horchoff asked, breaking the silence that filled the room as he made his way past Daniel and over toward a rolling metallic tray that sat next to the chair.

  “How could I forget this place?” Daniel responded, trying to make light of things.

  The truth was that he felt a little creeped out being back in this room, recalling how scared he had been in the moments leading up to his procedure, not knowing if he would ever wake up again once the anesthetic took effect.

  It seemed silly to look back with a feeling of regret now, knowing that everything had turned out exactly the way Richfield and Horchoff had planned, but he couldn’t help but feel stupid for making such a dangerous decision, and risking his life for such selfish reasons.

  He quickly shook away the feeling. Nothing great ever came without even greater risk. Looking at him now there was little doubt that he had chosen to put his faith in the hands of the right people. He had made the right decision.

  “Please sit,” Horchoff said, gesturing toward the chair.

  Slowly, Daniel made his way over to the large mechanical operating chair, trying not to think any more about what was behind him. Besides, he was fairly certain that the new memories he was about to make in this chair would prove equally unpleasant.

  Rather than dilly-dally, Horchoff instead decided to jump right into his lecture.

  “Pain,” he began, “is merely the result of your nerve fibers responding to stimuli that the body classifies as damaging. When these fibers are smashed, burned, cut, etc., they send signals to the brain which your brain interprets as pain. This response is generated so that your conscious mind is aware of the damage to your body, so that you avoid damaging that area further, and so it can heal properly.”

  Horchoff stood to Daniel’s left, a step behind the chair, fiddling with some odd looking tool as he spoke. Daniel rested the side of his head against the headrest, indicating that he was listening.

  “This tool,” Horchoff spoke as he walked around the front of the chair, holding up the object for Daniel to see, “is designed to create that response from your nerve fibers using electrostatic impulses. It won’t cause any real damage to your body, but you will feel substantial pain.”

  Horchoff stood still, staring into Daniel’s eyes for a few beats after finishing his statement, as if making sure that Daniel fully understood the unpleasantries which awaited him. The object he held was a thin metal shaft, about two feet long, with a black rubber handle on one end. On the opposite end of the stick, two tiny metal prongs protruded from the tip.

  Daniel gave a nod in understanding.

  Horchoff continued as he stepped closer. “The pain should last only several seconds after I have removed the shock stick. When I press it against you, I want you to open the neural pathways in your mind and look for the signal being sent from the neural fibers to your brain, and how your brain interprets that signal as pain.”

  Horchoff now stood just a foot or so away from the chairs left armrest.

  “Please remove your shirt,” he said as he inspected the tip of the “shock stick,” as he had called it.

  Daniel followed orders and took off his shirt.

  Horchoff, seemingly satisfied with the condition of the tool, dropped his arms to the side and looked at Daniel.

  “You’ve come quite a long way in such a short time,” he said, impressed by Daniel’s physical appearance.

  Immediately realizing the awkwardness in what he had said and how he had said it, Horchoff recoiled a bit after vocalizing his observation. He offered an apologetic look to Daniel, as if hoping they could both forget it ever happened, and continued with the exercise.

  “Now open your neural connections, and search for the signal to your brain as I press the stick to your left abdomen,” said Horchoff. “I will only hold it against your body for a few seconds – be sure and tell me if the pain becomes unbearable.”

  Daniel nodded, a little nervous about how much it was going to sting.

  Steadily, Horchoff inched the shock stick toward Daniel’s midsection.

  Daniel opened his mind and began interpreting the different signals being sent from his brain to the rest of his body. Tapping into them had become almost second nature at this point.

  When the end of the stick was only an inch or so away from Daniel’s skin, Horchoff quickly closed the gap and pressed it against Daniel’s abdomen.

  For the first split-second, all Daniel felt was cold metal pressed against his side. Then, before he could even fully process that the stick was pressed against him, a searing pain surged through the entire left side of his torso.

  He let out a scream. The pain was so sudden that it had completely distracted him from his brain activity, and by the time Horchoff had removed the stick, he hadn’t done any searching for the signal from his nerve endings.

  Just a few seconds after Horchoff removed the shock stick from his skin, the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  “Wow!” Daniel shouted, exasperated.

  “Did you sense anything?” Horchoff asked immediately, not wanting to focus on the discomfort he had caused the other.

  “I didn’t get a chance. It caught me off-guard,” Daniel answered. Then he looked up at Horchoff with an almost remorseful look on his face.

  “You’re going to have to hold it on for longer if I’m going to have the time to search for it,” he said. “I’ll let you know when to take it off.”

  Horchoff let out an audible sigh, not thrilled with the idea of causing Daniel any more pain than he had to. But, for the sake of the overall mission, he gathered himself and prepared to shock Daniel again.

  This time Daniel was ready for it. After the initial reaction to the sudden pain, Daniel focused on his mind, trying to find where his brain was interpreting the touch from Horchoff’s “ouchy stick” into pain. Fortunately, Daniel had become very good at scouring through his neural activity and after just a dozen seconds or so, he found the unidentified signal that was now surging into his neural receptors. It was one of only a few that he didn’t recognize. He made a note of it and told Horchoff to remove the device.

  After the pain subsided, he caught his breath and searched for the signal again. It was gone, meaning that it was probably the one he was looking for.

  “I think I found it,” he told the doctor, not realizing that he was panting. “Now you need to shock me again so that I can try and shut it off.”

  After a minute-long breather, Horchoff again pressed the shock stick against Daniel’s midsection. Again, Daniel took a second to gather himself after the initial shock of the pain.

  He gritted his teeth and found the new signal again. He focused through the pain, and was able to sync his conscious mind to the signal. It wasn’t until he was synced up to it that he realized he had no idea how to shut it off. He had only ever taken control of the neura
l commands being sent out from his brain to his internal organs. Never before had he stopped something from coming into his brain. He had no idea where to start.

  “Stop,” Daniel told Horchoff in a surprisingly calm fashion.

  “Too much?” Horchoff asked as he removed the stick from his patient.

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” Daniel admitted glumly.

  “Is the pain too distracting?” Horchoff inquired.

  “No,” Daniel responded sharply. “I was able to get connected, but this is a signal coming from my nerves to my brain. I’ve only ever sent signals from my brain. I don’t know how I can stop them from sending. Maybe I can block them somehow?”

  “I see,” Horchoff said, realizing Daniel’s point.

  “Take a break for now Daniel,” he said, placing a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I’ll think on this further and talk to Richfield. I’m afraid I hadn’t looked at it that way. This is certainly an unforeseen issue.”

  Daniel glanced at Horchoff’s hand upon his shoulder.

  “You said that the brain interprets the signals as pain, correct?” Daniel asked, taking note of the signal now being sent from the nerves on his shoulder where Doctor Horchoff’s hand was resting upon his bare skin.

  “Correct,” the doctor responded, turning toward Daniel with a look of inquiry.

  “Hit me again, Doc,” Daniel ordered.

  Without any further questions, Horchoff picked up the shock stick again. He believed he knew what Daniel was thinking.

  He pushed the stick against Daniel’s side again, and Daniel was this time able to distract from the pain in just a fraction of a second, focusing in on the part of his brain receiving the pain signals from his nerves.

  This time instead of focusing in on the reception of the signals, Daniel focused in on his brains interpretation of those signals. He thought back to the way his brain had interpreted the sensation of Horchoffs hand resting upon his shoulder, and altered his neural output to match it.