Trappist-1_The Tree of Life

by Todd Fries

  His only answer was the nothingness of shadow.

  “I can’t give you silver or gold. I have nothing of value to you except my appreciation and my prayers.”

  He listened but heard nothing.

  “I don’t know your motivation, but I’m glad you’re helping us. I’m glad you’re helping me. It seems my fortunes have changed. I thought I had it all figured out and look at me now. I’m a man without a life, without a country and without a clue as to what’s going on. All I have left are my moral values and my dignity, which is more than a man needs to survive. I only hope you enjoy the same integrity for it’s all we have in the end. Friend?”

  Nickolas returned to examining the note carefully. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. When he looked at the handwriting, he didn’t recognize the style as being from anyone he knew. It was written in block text and gave no hint as to the nature of the writer. He assumed it was from a man, but could just as easily have come from a woman. If it was from one of these “masked” intruders, he’d have no way of identifying them.

  In that moment it occurred to him that this message was evidence and it wouldn’t go well for him to be caught with it in his cell. The mere existence of the note would also put his benefactor in jeopardy. There were probably a limited number of people who had access to his cage. He contemplated flushing it down the toilet, but anticipated the base may have safeguards for that type of information smuggling. He could break it up into pieces and eat it, but that would be an action of last resort. Finally, he considered just giving it back to the sender.

  Being unsure if his ally was still lurking outside, he carefully announced his intentions.

  “Thanks again for your note. It probably wouldn’t do for me to be caught with this in my possession. So I tell you what. I’m going to slip it back under the door and you can dispose of it properly. Does that sound reasonable?”

  He strained to detect any sign of movement, but his guard was perfectly still. No doubt a trait of his military training. So without further evidence to confirm his theory, he carefully pushed the note through the opening and before his fingers lost touch with the corner, he felt the paper pulled from the other side and then it was gone.

  Listening carefully, he heard the hallway door softly close and then more silence. He wondered if he could trust this man. A man he had never met and for all practical purposes was an enemy combatant in this little kingdom. While he made his own choice long ago, he kept his allegiance secret to avoid the wrath of his new and unwanted enemy. But now it was time to trust. He smiled to himself and returned to praying. Someone would come for him. It was only a matter of time.

  BAPTISM BY FIRE

  Hap went about his daily routine, strolling the halls and looking for anything out of the ordinary. It was his job to search out and evaluate the little clues that made themselves known to him by experience and training. When manning a checkpoint, he was always observant of the behavior of those who passed and even more so if he decided to stop them for routine questions.

  When surveying the hallway, he looked for individuals who exhibited exaggerated emotions or inappropriate behavior such as crying, excessive laughing or chatter. Simple things like repetitive grooming gestures, the constant touching of the face or the wringing of the hands were all clues to underlying anxiety.

  Once observed, those were the people he singled out for questioning and when he asked for identification, he looked to see if the person was avoiding eye contact or if they were looking around for associates or co-workers. Even things like rapid blinking or increased breathing were reasons to look deeper into their story, justifying his inquiry as to where they’d been and where they were going. Security was a big issue at the base and something they didn’t take lightly. If someone wasn’t where they were supposed to be, then it was his job to sort it out.

  In this situation, he was the one who had to be careful. Any change in his behavior might signal that something was wrong and he didn’t need the attention right now. It was dangerous enough making contact with Nickolas, but even more so to be carrying around these flyers and posting them when nobody was looking. The mask he wore, the one that made him invisible to the surrounding community, now protected him as he remained invisible amongst thousands of workers.

  This allowed him access to all parts of the base with little or no oversight. After all, he was the overseer, so why would anyone question him? The last thing people wanted to do was approach him and strike up a conversation. That in itself would be suspicious so why do it and expose yourself to a friendly cross examination by the security officer. Time was valuable and most just wanted to get from one job to the next with little or no interruption, so as he paced the halls today, he was conscience of his every move and maintained a relaxed emotional state to prevent unwanted interest.

  After all, he hadn’t lived a particularly good life. He spent most of his teenage years running from the police or starting trouble in one way or another. As an undisciplined, arrogant young man, the last thing he wanted was structure, but that’s exactly what he got when he joined the Air Force. Before too long he was saying “Yes Sir!” and “No Sir” and saluting officers and conducting himself in accordance with military decorum and it changed him.

  He went from being a lazy malcontent to a polished operative in a matter of months. The Air Force took his aggressive energy and harnessed it by exposing him to the rigors of Special Forces training and he fit in like a glove. These were tough men and worthy of respect and he held them in high honor, being they could handle him like the father he never had. He learned as much about respect as being respected and his self-esteem grew with each new challenge.

  When he was selected for this mission, it was after he’d been to Yemen on a counter terrorist raid on a suspected Al-Qaeda compound. They’d been flown in on a helicopter, launched from an aircraft carrier in the Gulf of Aden, just off the shore in international waters. It was a dark mission in more ways than one. First, it was top secret and second it was at night and all of them were fitted with night vision goggles, making it possible to see through the murky darkness.

  Hanging low above the desert sand, the chopper skimmed the tops of the dunes as it wound its way toward the target, a small walled compound just 40 miles inland and sitting in a secluded stretch of scrub, far from prying eyes and curious onlookers. The plan was to set down about 2 miles from the objective and hike in using the night to hide their approach. Once they breached, they’d take-out anyone with a weapon or any combatant that appeared to be a threat to their operation.

  It was all going as planned until a sudden squall picked up billions of tiny sand particles and drove them like nails into their faces, permeating their clothing and making it difficult to breathe and seeing was out of the question, even with night vision hardware. They couldn’t see one foot in front of their faces, let alone identifying a compound over a mile away.

  When they called for support, there was nothing to be done. No aircraft could navigate that dust storm and sending more people into get them was out of the question. They were on their own. Once the decision was made, they had no choice but to stop and evaluate their situation, plan a strategy to get home and do it all while avoiding detection.

  It wasn’t as simple as it might seem. Even with GPS, it might have been a challenge, but someone was jamming their system, which wasn’t hard to do with GPS. If they had to guess, it was coming from the compound and probably a counter-measure to enemy infiltration. So with no other options, they relied on a basic compass to guide them back toward safety over 40 miles away.

  The problem is that they couldn’t walk 40 miles in one night, which meant hiding out during the day and walking at night and assuming the storm didn’t subside in the next 48 hours, they might be able to move non-stop, but that was a big “if”. There was no way to know what was in front of them and if they weren’t careful, they might stumble into an urban area, resulting in a “Blackhawk Down” situation.
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  To avoid this, they’d have to probe the darkness, looking for any signs of human activity and then decide whether to go around or pass through. Bypassing an obstacle would take time while taking a direct approach increased the risk of detection, but with few options and little time, they would have to move quickly to reach the coast and safety. Once the storm cleared, they’d be visible for miles and who knows how far they might get, and what dangers might be waiting for them at the moment of rescue.

  For the first few hours everything went according to plan until they encountered a mud dwelling with a small animal enclosure to one side. Sensing that nobody was around, they opted to cut through the yard, but before reaching the other side, they encountered a boy, not more than 10 or 11, sporting an AK-47 and when he saw the commandos, he fumbled to bring his gun to bear.

  It was a moment of truth for him as he was trained to deal with any threat, no matter how improbable or unconventional and seeing this boy in front of him and observing the professional determination in his eyes, he knew the instant he aligned that barrel, he’d shoot. The world seemed to slow down and as he leveled his gun to fire, he prayed for the first time in his life.

  “Help me God. Don’t let this happen. Don’t let this boy die by my hand. Save me Lord.”

  It was a short prayer and before he completed the last word, shots rang out from behind them and by the time they turned around to locate the threat, Al Qaeda soldiers were climbing into the small pen, shooting in all directions in their panic and haste. It was a miracle that nobody was hit, but in the chaos of those few seconds, he lost track of his team and found himself wandering blindly inside a sand blasting wind that cut into him from every direction.

  To make matters worse, he found himself on the outskirts of an urban area and was now on a street with many homes and shops. For all he knew, he was in the heart of another Mosel, and without any support and daylight just a few hours away, he was desperate to find shelter. He needed a place to hide and soon. And so with no other options available, he picked a random dwelling and opened the door and stepped inside.

  It was dark and quiet. As soon as he shut the door behind him, the rattle of the wind ceased and he found himself in a modest hovel, lit by the warm glow of candles and by the time his eyes adjusted to the scene before him, a man approached and yelled something he couldn’t understand. When the women saw him, they screamed in terror and fled to the far side of the room, but the man held his ground and pointed violently toward the door.

  “'Akhraj!”

  The man pointed.

  “'Akhraj!”

  He yelled again and pointed to the door.

  Not knowing what to do, he lowered his weapon and held out his hands, palm outward in a gesture of peace. The man approached and gazed into his face and seeming satisfied with what he saw, backed away and gestured to some pillows on the floor, as if asking him to make himself at home. He reasoned the man probably saw the fear in his eyes and understood that he wasn’t there to hurt them, but regardless, he wasn’t much better off than before. He was still trapped and unsure of what to do next. His unit would be searching for him, but there was no way to leave without being detected and how long could he stay here? That was the question.

  For the next few hours, they sat and stared at each other and nobody said a word. It was then that he noticed those tell-tale signs of fear and uncertainly. The wringing of the hands, the touching of the face, the heavy breathing and the bulging veins in the neck. Certainly these people had a right to be stressed, but what if it was something more. What if they had alerted Al Qaeda to his location? It would buy a lot of good-will for this family to hand over an American soldier. He could already visualize his life coming to an end as they slowly cut off his head while broadcasting to the world on a twitter feed.

  If he could only communicate with these people, but there was both a language and social barrier, making that almost impossible. They didn’t trust him and he couldn’t blame them. They’d already experienced so much death and destruction in their lives, so how could they look at him and not feel hatred. If he was in their shoes, he’d either attempt to kill him or alert the authorities. In either case, unless help came soon, this would be his last mission.

  Sensing they might be planning to take him prisoner, he resolved to go out fighting. If they came through that door, he’d start shooting and never stop until his ammunition was exhausted. He’d rather die fighting than submit to the shame of incarceration and torture. And if all else failed, he’d use the last bullet on himself. A quick end to a shaky life.

  So once more he found himself turning his mind to God. What changes might he make if the Lord rescued him from this mess? Could he ever look upon life in the same way and if there was no God and his life ended this morning, would he have lived and died for nothing? The universe didn’t care about him. He was like a bacteria that was here now and gone a second later. A small mite of nothing, born of an unending cosmic expansion that gave no regard to life or death. He just “WAS” and nothing more.

  “I AM THAT I AM.”

  The words came to his mind as he waited in the twilight. He remembered that phrase from long ago when he listened to the words in his bedroom at night. At least the Lord was self-aware and understood His eternal place in the fabric of time, but the universe was little more than a rock with no idea it existed. Was if that was all there was? A brief moment of being aware and then nothing?

  If so, he certainly had nothing to lose, but as he gazed upon this family and watched them go about their morning routine, he sensed a greater opportunity for good in a world full of hate. But what could he do for them? Even if they didn’t fully understand it, he was fighting to protect them, but if they had extreme values like the others, what might he expect for his efforts? Death?

  As the morning hours waned, the sweat flowed from his pores and drinking his last ration of water, he stood ready, but sleep pulled heavily on his eyelids. It was all he could do to stay awake and he realized that if he fell asleep, all was lost. For all he knew, they were simply waiting until he was vulnerable before striking, and so gathering his strength, he paced the floor in an effort to keep his adrenalin flowing.

  Before too long, shadows appeared from under the door and he knew that someone was preparing to enter. He raised his gun and pointed it directly at the doorway and then heard a familiar voice. It was his unit commander, ordering him to stand down. They were coming in. Answering their hail, he backed up into a corner and he almost fired when he saw several men enter, dressed in the traditional Arab thawb, and in his panic, he felt certain he’d been deceived.

  However, when they revealed their faces, they were indeed members of his team, who had infiltrated the town by dressing like the locals and when they handed him a garment to put on over his own uniform, the same boy who tried to kill him the night before, rushed into the room and hugged his dad.

  He was the one who found the other members of his unit and directed them back to this house. When they locked eyes, it was a moment of revelation. In that brief repose, he came to realize that the young lad hadn’t been gearing up to kill him, but was preparing to defend him. He wasn’t looking at him, but beyond him to the Al Qaeda soldiers he spotted climbing over the wall behind him.

  If he hadn’t hesitated and if he hadn’t gone to the Lord in prayer, he might have killed that kid and lost his life in the process, for he was so fixated on him, that he never understood the immediate threat to his rear. It was a divine act of God, which was further enhanced by the fact that he stumbled upon the boy’s home by chance, and finding that haven was a miracle in itself and something he never forgot.

  From that day onward he dedicated his life to Jesus, even though it took the fear of death to move him from his ignorance. He firmly believed that his strength had to be broken before God could do the work of lifting him back up to be the man he was meant to be.

  So when he patrolled these halls and watched for the signs of stress and fear,
he remembered that night and put his faith in the people he watched, knowing that most were good and decent individuals, who were struggling with their own troubles and tribulations.

  And when he became aware of what the General was doing to the Holy-7, he remembered that boy and how he helped a stranger in the midst of a storm, on a warm summer night, on a hostile shore in a land filled with hatred and strife. For if God could search out that city and find one faithful person with the ability to help him, how much more could he do for these people, even in the face of his own mortality.

  CONQUEST

  The group was tired and sore. They had spent a long night in the dark of the cell and when the lights came back on, a key turned in the door and several masked guards ushered them out into the hallway and then up an elevator to the top floor. It was rather quiet as they walked along the hallway and when they entered the office of General Taylor, they knew this couldn’t be good.

  Six chairs were setup in a semi-circle around his desk and without a word being spoken, the soldiers gestured for them to sit down. They had removed Nickolas from their cell the previous day and never brought him back. As to what happened to him, they could only guess and they hoped to get some answers soon. As each person took a chair, they scanned the room in the hope of finding anything that might provide a reason for this man’s holy war against them.

  He had swept in out of nowhere and had thrust his values upon them, uprooting everything and leaving a trail of destruction as he weeded out those projects that didn’t fit his beliefs and killing those who stood in his way. It was like the Nazi’s coming into France, forcing the resistance to go underground. They now found themselves in the same position. In the case of the Nazi’s, the French resistance had to avoid a direct conflict at all costs, so they’re best strategy was to help liberate the country by slowly subverting the occupying forces.