by Madlen Namro
This is no time for writing a haiku, Victor thought. He could feel his strength being drained and his energy withering; at every second, his blood would flow a little slower and his body would get colder. There was only one way out of it. He smiled faintly as he found something of help in his memory. “Gorin no sha,” he whispered.
He recalled studying that ancient tome written by Mushasi. It discussed the technical and spiritual aspects of combat. Its motto was ‘my path leads only to victory, whatever weapon I wield’. This thought comforted him. He realised how foolish it would be to let himself be killed with his weapon not even drawn. He still had a knife sheathed at his belt. If all else failed, he could still use it as the last resort.
Kaminsky leant forwards in an involuntary effort to more strongly affect the tracker. He was surprised to see his enemy was still standing. This was most unexpected.
“I cannot let his thoughts inside,” Victor repeated like a mantra. “I have to focus on one thought. I can’t let myself be distracted. I have to focus.”
He’s good, the caliph thought. “I can’t break through. He sure knows his own value. Good, old samurai school,” he snarled. “The highest level and he seems like such a simpleton. Who would have expected him to gain so much knowledge? I’ve underestimated him.” He hesitated for a moment, suddenly considering the possibility of failure. He glanced at Jo. “Worse, he’s got strong feelings to hold on to. His love is making him stronger.” Kaminsky started stroking his beard anxiously. “He may not know how to beat me, but he’s perfectly trained in fighting his own weaknesses. He’s really good at that. Time for a change of strategy.”
He stepped towards Victor who stood motionless with his eyes closed. Kaminsky reached out to touch the man’s arm but the tracker’s own hand shot out and clutched his wrist. Victor’s eyes were now wide open, staring straight into the caliph’s. Kaminsky tried to free himself, but the younger man was far too strong for that. They started struggling. The caliph attacked, striking a violent blow at Victor who responded in kind. They rained blows on each other, eventually collapsing to the floor in an angry throw. The guards finally decided to step in, guns drawn. They were waiting for the right moment to shoot without harming their leader. But before any of them had a chance to fire, the commodore appeared behind their backs and started shooting. In a matter of seconds most of the guards were already down. Jo took care of the others.
Victor reached for his commando knife. It may not have been a katana, tachi or wakizashi, weapons he felt most comfortable with, but it was a solid blade none the less. It would have to do. Writhing in Kaminsky’s grasp he felt his strength fading quickly. As they fought, the caliph continued the mental assault on his mind.
Kaminsky used the moment of Victor’s hesitation and clutched at his hand armed with the knife. He twisted it with amazing strength and forced the blade into the tracker’s own arm, straight in the middle of his tattoo. Blood gushed out of the deep wound; the blade tore through skin and muscles reaching the bone. The explosion of pain put Victor on the brink of losing consciousness.
The building suddenly quaked, noise, smoke and siren alarms coming from the top floors. They heard screams of panic. Victor gathered all his remaining strength to tear the knife out of his flesh and force Kaminsky’s hand to twist. In a flash of understanding the caliph saw the knife strike at his chest, straight through the heart. He collapsed like a rag doll.
“And so the great dragon was cast out.” Jo and Levi recognised the quote from the Book of Revelation. “The old Serpent called the Devil and Satan, he who deceived the whole world…” He fainted before he managed to finish.
Jo kneeled next to the tracker and tried to apply some pressure dressing to the wound. Levi stood over the caliph’s body.
“He’s dead.” He touched Kaminsky’s copse and felt no pulse. Then he glanced at Victor. “Here’s a man who can do anything.” Jo caught Levi’s look and they both suddenly remembered how little time they had. The whole building was about to be destroyed. The explosions had already started.
Levi lifted his friend’s unconscious body and they dashed towards the stairs.
* * * *
New York, the city loved by all races and denominations, founded by the Dutch on the island of Manhattan, initially a simple trade post, in time a powerful commercial hub. It was once so influential that the city’s problems had led to a global economic crisis, the great crash of the New York stock exchange.
New York, New York.
The city with the highest crime rates in history, the place where the global war on terrorism had started in the debris of the World Trade Centre. Today, another disaster struck. The world froze when the news of the catastrophe hit the headlines. The tallest, most advanced architectonic structure in the world lay in ruin. The explosion shocked the public, just as the destruction of the Statue of Liberty and the downfall of Wall Street once had.
New York, New York.
The city’s streets had gradually emptied in the recent years. Central Park now only served as a playground for Asian children. The beaches stretching for over twenty-two kilometres had been closed off due to water pollution. The famous Fifth Avenue, with its luxury shops and centres, had been transformed into a street of fast food restaurants for the poor.
New York, once loved by millions, the showcase of the American way of life, had suffered greatly in the last century. With each subsequent catastrophe, the bright lights of the metropolis had become a little dimmer, its vivid colour fading with every passing year. Eventually, it became a dark point on the map, a warning, a living proof of the evil men were capable of.
Today, once more, New York woke America with its mournful cry of chaos and fear, like a harmed child calling for her mother to come to the rescue.
The City Council had to succumb to the pressure from the United Nations to withhold the information about Kaminsky’s death. The president still awaited news from his commandos.
“What took you so long?” Mao muttered when Levi stood in the doorway with Victor hanging over his shoulder.
“Victor’s been wounded,” the commodore answered and sighed with relief seeing Laura in the back with David.
“Put him down over there.” Mao pointed to a couch.
Levi gently put the unconscious man down. Jo followed him step by step, her body tense.
“Father!” Laura threw her arms around the commodore’s neck. “You’re exhausted. Sit down over here.” She led him to an armchair in the corner.
“We heard the explosions,” David said. “The caliph?”
“Dead,” Levi said simply. Even though their mission was completed, he knew well enough that the war on global terrorism was far from over.
Laura handed him a glass with a revitalising drink prepared by Mao. The commodore drank it while watching the Chinese man bring Victor round by putting some sort of strong smelling substance under his nose.
Victor opened his eyes and saw Jo.
“Jo.” She leant closer, supporting his head with her hand while affectionately stroking his hair with the other.
“Kaminsky is dead,” she whispered into his ear. “You’ve freed the world from him.” She kissed him on the forehead, tears running down her cheeks. “I was so afraid I’d lose you. You’ll never know how much I …” She pressed her lips against his.
“Jo,” Mao cut in, “please.” He started pulling her away. “I have to give him medicine. Kaminsky managed to steal a lot of his vital energy, not to mention…” He looked at the man with visible respect. “He hit him with a mind blast.” He smiled at Jo comfortingly. “But he’ll be all right. He’s tough, this one.”
He handed a concoction to Victor who drank it to the last drop.
“He needs to sleep,” Mao asserted. “Come with me.” He motioned to Jo.
Laura had not left Levi’s side for a moment.
“My little daughter,” he whispered. “I have so much to tell you.” He hugged her closely. “Will you ever forgive me
for neglecting you and your mother so much?”
“Dad,” she said, returning his embrace, “I’m just happy I have you back. All that matters now is that we can be together.”
David smiled at both of them and winked at Laura. She smiled back merrily.
“Not that I’m not pleased to have a whole anti-terrorist squad under my roof, but you should get going. They’re waiting for you at the base,” Mao said firmly.
“But Victor’s asleep.” Jo moved closer. She felt some sort of subconscious antipathy towards the old visionary.
“And that’s how he should be transported to Atlantis.” Mao looked at her. “You must move him before he wakes up. He’s lost a lot of blood. He may never use that arm again if it’s not operated on soon.”
Jo cast a terrified look at Levi who jumped to his feet.
“We’re going to the airport, right now!”
* * * *
The flight went without any complications. The Challenger 241F space shuttle drifted through space steadily and after little less than twelve hours it began its landing approach towards Atlantis.
A crowd of cheering soldiers and their families were waiting on the runway to greet the returning heroes. As soon as David stepped out, Robert jumped into his arms. The commando lifted his son off the ground and threw him up into the air, amazed at how much he’d grown and how brave he had been throughout all this.
Commodore Levi led his daughter out of the craft and proudly announced among the deafening cheers, “This is my daughter, Laura!” The crowd roared even lauder. “David, could you please show my daughter around the base?”
“My pleasure, Sir.”
“Hello there.” The woman smiled at the boy who was gazing at her with his big brown eyes. “My name is Laura, and what’s yours?”
“Robert,” the boy said gleefully, and looked at his father. “Is she going to be my new mommy?”
Laura and David both blushed. The man reached out and tousled the boy’s hair.
“Come, I’ll show you my room!” Robert grabbed Laura’s hand and pulled her to follow.
Happy to see his daughter blend in so easily, Levi returned to the ship to help carry Victor’s stretcher. The tracker was still deeply asleep. An ambulance arrived moments later and carried him to the hospital ward for emergency surgery.
Jo was the last to walk out, tired and afraid for Victor.
“Cap-tain, Cap-tain !” The excited crown welcomed her on the platform.
She did not hear them. Dragging her feet, she suddenly realised her trousers were torn and dirty and her vest soaked with blood. She ran her hand through her hair and frowned. I have to go clean up, she thought and decided to walk to her room before going to the hospital, but before she could take more than a few steps someone grabbed her arm and turned her around violently.
“You’ve got something to say to me?” Jo recognised the woman. It was Diana.
“Where’s my husband, you bitch!” Her eyes were mad with hatred. “He went all that way just to follow you and you have nothing to say?”
“Diana,” she started calmly, “I’m very sorry, but Alec is dead. I’m really sorry…”
“No! No!” Many people had tried to prepare her for this news, telling her he was probably dead, but she had refused to believe them. “You killed him. He was such a good soldier. If you hadn’t dragged him with you, he would still be alive! You always put him in trouble. You’re nothing but a whore!” Diana had lost it completely. A crowd was gathering around them. “You seduced him. I know that whole memory erasure was just an excuse to lure him back. You knew he had a thing for you, yet you did nothing about it and he followed you on that mission. You lousy whore!”
Jo had had more than enough of this. Diana had gone too far. She barely stopped herself from slapping her in the face in front of everyone.
“Let me tell you something…” She took a step closer ready to tell her everything, about what a coward her husband had turned out to be, about his egoism and treason, about how he’d almost murdered them, but just before she opened her mouth she heard a child’s cry behind her. She turned her head and saw Margaret holding a baby boy in her arms. Suddenly, Jo felt deeply sorry for all of them.
“Your husband was a hero, a great commando.” The words came out reluctantly. “He fought the terrorists to the very end and all that time he kept talking about you and how much he loved you and…” For the woman’s sake and for the sake of her child, she decided to lie. “…How much he missed his son. When he was exiled to Earth, he thought about his family up here every day. He really loved you.”
She could see Diana slowly calming down and the crowd was beginning to lose interest.
“He was a good soldier who died in the line of duty, fighting for his country. I really am sorry, Diana.”
Jo turned around, walking away towards her quarters.
“Jo!” Diana called out and approached her again. “Thank you.”
Jo smiled and nodded at her. As she walked on she exhaled deeply with relief.
Alec may not have been worthy of such praise, but she had not said it for him, but for the sake of the love they had once shared. She felt that she’d finally freed herself from that feeling and that man. All debts were settled. She thought of Victor and felt much better straight away. She ran to her room, had a quick shower, changed her clothes and rushed to the medical ward where Levi was already waiting.
“How’s Victor?” she asked right away.
“They’ve already operated. His arm should be okay, but he’ll have to be careful not to overburden it when he exercises. At least for some months.” The commodore was really concerned for his friend.
“Thank God.” She sighed. “Is he asleep?”
“No, he’s waiting for you.” He wanted to say more, but Jo hurried past him towards the door to Victor’s room. Before she stepped in, Levi stopped her.
“Jo.”
“Yes, Commodore.”
“The Defence Council gathers for a session tomorrow. You are both expected to be there first thing.”
“Yes, Sir.” She smiled and walked into the room.
She’d missed Victor horribly. With every minute she felt she loved him more.
“Jo?” The tracker noticed her and followed her with his eyes.
She sat on his bed and kissed him passionately.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, intoxicated by his very presence next to her.
Victor reached out with his left hand and pulled her closer. His kiss was warm and inviting.
“I’ll show you,” he whispered and started unbuttoning her shirt.
“Victor! We’re in an operating room!” Her flirtatious smile contradicted the pretended indignation in her voice.
“Uhm…” He kissed her neck. “But in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no-one else in here and…” He slipped his hand under the shoulder strap of her bra, kissing her shoulders delicately. “And no one should be coming in any time soon.”
They both felt overwhelming desire taking over. The feeling was stronger than anything either of them had ever experienced before. Their kisses became even fierier.
“How do you know?” She lay on the bed next to him, careful not to hurt his injured arm. The man pulled her closer, overcome with passion.
“I am a tracker after all.” His lips stopped her from answering and the both of them lost sense of time and place.
They made love for hours, Victor ignoring the pain in his arm. Only his love mattered to him now. After all these years he’d found the woman of his dreams and he would not waste another minute of their time together. He wanted to be with her forever and live through every second together as intensely as possible.
* * * *
Commodore Charles Levi was the first to step into the room, followed by Captain Joanna Starska, Commando David Scar and tracker, Victor Berg. They were welcomed by a deafening ovation which echoed throughout the base.
They stood in front of the Defenc
e Council, waiting for the noise to die down. The president approached them and once the ovation quietened, he spoke loudly.
“Gentlemen… and ladies.” He winked at Jo, proud to have such an outstanding female officer under his command. “I am overwhelmed, as I’m sure everyone else in this room, by happiness. Your successful mission and Kaminsky’s death are a gigantic step forward in our struggle.” The room went quiet, listening to their leader’s voice. “We have lost a soldier, that’s true.” The commandos bowed their heads. “But the world of terrorism has lost so much more. We’ve deprived them of leadership and at least for a time gained a great advantage.”
Jo looked at Victor out of the corner of her eye. He was the one truly deserving the president’s praise. The deed was all his.
“We realise this does not mean the war on terrorism has ended, but rather that their organisation has ceased to exist.” He paused. “But we have managed to send a clear message which will bring chaos and confusion into their midst. This will open our way to infiltrate and eventually destroy the power that brought ruin to all the nations of our world.”
He sized the commandos up with a serious glance and walked closer.
“You have started a change we can now build on. You’ve given us hope, strengthened our resolve and our will to fight. Therefore…” he said, moving to the table and picking up a reader which he pointed at Levi. “Commodore Levi, I am pleased to reinstate you to the rank of commodore.” He shook his hand. “Your ship and crew are ready for your return.”
“Thank you, Sir.” He had longed to soar in space once more.
“Captain,” the president moved on to Jo, “it is my great pleasure to promote you to the rank of commodore and to place one of our newest space shuttles, the Asija under your command. Congratulations.” He shook her hand.
Jo was shocked. She hadn’t expected anything like this.
“Commando Scar.” It was David’s turn. “It is my pleasure to promote you to the rank of captain of the Luna.”
