“Hey, it’s not my fault. I had to go.”
“You up and left without telling me. You went eight months without contact. Explain that, you asshole!”
“Lizzy, you know my job. You have the clearance . . . you know what I was doing. Shit, my gig was nearly over when I got the message to fly to this shithole. To be honest, I like the jungle a bit better.”
“You could have said bye,” Elizabeth replied. For a moment, her eyes filled with tears. But she withheld them, kept them in.
“Lizzy, I . . . I know. I’d say sorry but you wouldn’t believe it was sincere.”
“I don’t want a sorry, I want to know why.”
“Listen, we had our ups and downs. You know how it was. Two peas from the same pod and all. I just . . . I just couldn’t face it. Couldn’t deal with it, so I just left. I’m sorry, I really am, Lizzy.”
“It doesn’t matter . . .” she lied.
“Besides, I’m the one who should be pissed,” he offered.
“Say again? How do you figure?”
“I was pulled from a big op. I was close, Lizzy. Real close. Then pulled? Take me from my team and fly me here?”
Elizabeth sighed, cracking the door a bit more, allowing Rives into her quarters.
Rivers could see she was in her nightgown. He peeked down to get a look. Elizabeth pulled her top closed, glaring.
“Jeff, this one’s bad.”
“Can’t be worse than some of the others. Not my first rodeo,” Rivers replied.
“Much worse. This one has Zulu clearance. Pulled you here because I need you here.”
“Why?”
“’Cause you’re that good. Yeah, I’ll admit it,” she said.
“What’s the real reason, Lizzy,” he asked.
She sighed again, saying, “You’re the only one I can trust on this, Jeff.”
“Well, that’s sweet,” he said, sarcasm in his voice. “I call bullshit, though. You wanted me here and you found a good excuse.”
“That’s not true,” she replied, though the look in her eyes gave it away. She missed him. She couldn’t help it, though she’d not admit it.
“Listen, we have a job to do, so let’s keep this professional,” she said, standing straight.
“Since when have we done that?”
“I’m serious, Jeff. This one is dangerous. I need you aware.”
“I’m ready to go in,” Rivers replied. “Hooah, and all that shit.” Rivers waited a moment, looking her over, remembering their times together. He knew she was thinking the same. He just knew it. The past eight months had caused the bad times to fade, for him at least. Little did he know, as each day passed, Elizabeth had grown to despise him more and more.
Elizabeth was as beautiful as ever. Still fit, still active, still a hard-ass bitch who got shit done. There wasn’t a woman in the world like her, and if she didn’t piss him off so much, he could possibly marry her.
“Look,” Rivers began, “I’m here and I’m serious. What’s this all about? You seem . . . well, not yourself.”
“Because I’m not sure we can stop . . . whatever this is.”
“Have some faith, honey pie,” he said with a smile. He patted his AK-47, still attached as if part of him. “The real question is, why go in?”
“Had York not told us of their breeding, we might not have. But if the numbers are close to what he estimates, we’ll have a major problem.”
“Lizzy, I heard super-soldiers and science mumbo jumbo. Guess it’s hard to wrap my mind around it. For everyone. Know why? ’Cause it’s unbelievable.”
“It’s all true,” she stated.
“Fair enough. I can think outside the box. We talking Groom Lake and alien sort of stuff or what?”
“Not far off,” she replied, watching his facial expression change.
Rivers nodded, saying, “That’s fine. I can handle a little bizarre. I have tricks up my sleeve too, ya know.”
“That’s why I called you in. Now I need to go to bed, Jeff. I have a long day tomorrow and I’m exhausted.”
“Dale’s team-leader, right?” Rivers asked, ignoring her pleas.
“Yes. Can you handle that?” she asked, frustrated.
“Sure. No problems listening to Dale.”
“Good. Anything else I can help you with,” she asked, an impatient look on her face.
“Yeah, just one more thing,” Rivers said, leaning in and gently kissing her.
The gentleness didn’t last long. This pair had unresolved business. Within minutes, their clothes were ripped off. They lusted now, more than they ever had before. Maybe it was because of the way things ended. Perhaps because it had been so long, or maybe it was because of this bizarre mission.
Nevertheless, what began as a moment of intimacy turned into a frenzy, a highly passionate session where they were lost in each other’s bodies.
And as Rivers thrust inside, Elizabeth screamed out.
*
Thompson walked down the barrack hallways, slowly shuffling his feet. He couldn’t sleep, and had decided to test his rule, and begin the forty-eight hours.
He had found Svetlana in the hallway, stopped her with one of his charming smiles. It always worked in the bars, pretty much anywhere he went. Maybe it was because Russian women were different, he told himself. Although that wasn’t necessarily the truth. Svetlana was simply smart enough to see through his prowess.
She ended it with a handshake and bid him goodnight.
Now, he strolled, turning left, turning right, slowly making his way back to his room. He needed to sleep, he knew tomorrow would be another long day of training, of preparing for this mission.
He jumped as she tore around the corner.
The young woman from behind the computer. Elizabeth’s assistant—Viki.
She was smart, most likely smarter than he was. Attractive too. More the girl next door in appearances, she was curvy, with big breasts, little makeup.
“Can I help ya?” Thompson asked.
“What is that?” she asked.
“What is what?”
“That sound?” the young woman asked. She then turned to the next corridor, following the sound that traveled down the hallway.
Thompson followed, partially out of curiosity, partially because he was horny. “Hey, wait up.”
They rounded the corner, another stretch of hallway. They didn’t have to make it far down this one before stopping dead in their tracks. It took a moment, and Thompson recognized it first. Naturally, he would.
The woman, Viki—it took her a few moments longer.
“Is that—?”
“Yup. They’re fucking,” Thompson said, grinning.
“Who?”
“Well, if memory recalls, that’s the room of none other than the hard-ass, mean Wicked Witch of the West that everyone’s afraid of,” Thompson said.
Viki gasped as it dawned on her, “Elizabeth?”
“None other. Doesn’t sound so threatening now, does she?”
“Oh my . . . what’s he doing to her? Screw that, who is doing that to her?”
Thompson gently grabbed the woman’s shoulder, leading her closer down the hall, closer to Elizabeth’s panting, her screams of ecstasy.
“Ever been in the military?” he asked.
“No.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me, then. You see, there’s three kinds of sex. There’s sex, there’s fucking, and there’s a military form of sex. It’s different, especially out in places like this. Out here in Khost. It’s a rare occurrence, like Haley’s Comet or something.”
“What is?”
“A wargasm,” Thompson said with a smile.
The sounds from not far away peaked the young woman’s interest. She couldn’t have been but in her early twenties, the sexual prime of her life. “What’s a wargasm?” she asked, turning up and looking to Thompson.
“Can’t explain ’em . . . but I can show you one,” he said, grinning. “Or many.”
Many wargasms occurred that night.
80
“Were they set up?” Rivers asked.
She rested her head back to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“The Delta team. Were they sent in on purpose?” he asked.
“No, they engaged the Taliban, found the village and discovered the cave on their own. This was all discussed during the briefing,” she said.
“Yeah, I know. Just wanted to know if that story is true or not.”
“Not everyone in the CIA is bad, Jeff.”
“Lots of snakes, Lizzy.”
“And lots of good ones, too. Some do take their job serious. They do their duty for their country with honor. You know lots of men and women like that, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t answer the question. Were they sent in to test these things,” he said.
“No. I suppose it’s possible, but doubtful. Kline would have know, even McClain. They wouldn’t have done that. What happened was by pure chance alone.”
“Look, I get the boys might have gotten a bit cocky, figured what the hell. I do have a hard time thinking they were accidently off course. I think they were bored and made an excuse to go into this region. They then stumble upon some Taliban, engage, and say they’re lost, right?”
“How’d you know? I haven’t told a single person that part of the story.”
“Not hard to figure out. Look, doesn’t matter. I know your bosses weren’t happy that Delta stumbled in to a place they shouldn’t have, but what the fuck. They did and look what we discovered.”
“Jeff, this valley isn’t natural. These things aren’t human. Deny it all you want, but please don’t ignore it. That moment of hesitation might get you . . .”
“Ah, you worrying about me, Lizzy?” he teased.
“This valley is that dangerous, so yes, I am worried about you,” she admitted. This felt good, felt right, and she fought hard to hold back any thoughts of his death. “Jeff, if Khost is Purgatory, then this valley is Dante’s seventh ring.”
“Doesn’t make sense. Radio interruption, sat phones not working. Shit, their helmet cams went black.”
“Drones too. Nothing works, and our top minds can’t figure it out. That’s where you come in, Jeff.”
“Go on, I’m all ears.”
“They all need to be killed. Every last one. I hope I’ve made that clear.”
“Crystal.”
“Good. But we also want information. The compound . . . we know little of its properties. There are some missing links.”
“Hey, I’m no scientist.”
“No, but Svetlana is. And hopefully, her eyes on the ground, maybe she can . . .”
“What could you possibly want from knowing more? Don’t the Russians know? Fuck, this is their problem anyway.”
“If they keep breeding, it’ll be everyone’s problem. Our algorithms tell us that in the next few decades, these things will be a major problem. They’ll push out . . . Jeff, they already have. We’ve kept it as quiet as possible, but villagers up to a hundred miles away have seen them. Roaming at night, they’re traveling outside the canyon.”
“How do you know all this? Can’t come from only York.”
“Our asset in the village.”
“So, they’re roaming that far, hitting a few villages. You’re worried about what happens when they hit a major city.”
“Could you imagine?”
“Thing I don’t get is this: if they don’t require food and water, why kill?”
“It’s the last chemical. It was Mikhail’s last part of the compound, but he had no intention of including it.”
“What’s it do?”
“When mixed, it amplifies one’s rage, Jeff. It makes a murderer into a psychotic killing machine. He tested it in extremely low doses. Each time, the compound was too powerful. So, he scrapped it from the original synthetic chemical he gave the KGB.”
“So what went wrong?”
“They took his work to another team, had them replicate it. Problem was, they didn’t realize most of this was guesswork by Mikhail, theory at best. They didn’t realize the results, and to make matters worse, they mixed the compound in extremely high doses.”
“So, this madman scientist didn’t know about this . . .”
“It alters the genes we carry that control our temper, our anger, our rage.”
“This rage gene gets flicked on, but it’s overkill. So, not only are they super-human, they actually like killing?”
“You got it,” Elizabeth said grimly.
“It’s insane . . .” mumbled Rivers, squeezing Elizabeth tight. “With all our technology, with all our superiority, we’re scared of something that’s more animal than anything.”
“If they weren’t earth born, we’d call them aliens.”
“Ha! Think they actually made a movie about that—SEALs against aliens or something.”
“I’m not joking around, Jeff.”
“I know, Lizzy. Just trying to wrap my mind around it all. So, besides killing these things, you want me to make sure that Russian gal does her job. Collects samples or something?”
“Correct. The more we know about the compound, the better. Unfortunately, most of Mikhail’s research has vanished, and even our advanced thinkers can’t figure it out. He was light years ahead of his time.”
“What concerns me is, why would you want to know about it? See, when Langley wants stuff like that to happen, it usually has bad results. Some things shouldn’t be created, or in this case, re-created.”
“You’re assuming we’d use it for nefarious purposes. To know, to understand the compound, is vital in case we don’t get them all. The mountain is huge, and we assume there are smaller exits. If a few get out, they’ll begin breeding again.”
“In order to develop something to stop them, you’d have to make it. Not sure I want to be part of that,” Rivers said.
Elizabeth sighed, turning over, staring him in the eyes. Their lips met, lost in the moment, forgetting the past, not concerning themselves of the future.
Only now mattered.
Their bodies came together again. This time it wasn’t a barbaric act of frustration and ecstasy, but something more passionate, something meaningful.
It was as if they’d never see one another again.
81
“Memories are a strange thing,” Elizabeth said. They lay together, entangled and loving.
“What about them?” Rivers asked in a whisper.
“There are different types of memories, some tangible, proven to be factually true. There are also suppressed memories, clouded recollections of actual events. This second type of memory combines both real and unreal events. This often can lead to delusions, where a subject’s memories are imaginary.”
“The crazies, right?”
“Delusional, yes. There are many forms of delusion.”
“So, your saying York is the second type?”
“No, actually, I believe York is the first type. I fully believe him. He doesn’t remember everything, but his memories are factual.”
“By who’s opinion?” Rivers asked.
“Mine. I’ve spent hours with him. He’s not delusional, I can tell you that. He’s suffered trauma, both emotional and physical, but he’s not off his rocker,” Elizabeth replied.
“All right, so now what?”
“There is a third way to categorize memories. It’s the most frightening, the most shocking, and perhaps the most real. I believe there are memories that have been intentionally programmed within the mind of a person. In most instances, this would be done in a lab. It seems our Soviet friends attempted to hold lab class in the Khost Province.”
“Go on,” Rivers said.
“These programmed memories, they might be real, might be by design, might be a mixture. Either way, this third form of memory is quite frightening, and hen
ce why we’re here.”
“York? I’m not following you . . .”
“These programmed memories, they’re meant to cover up experiences much stranger than fiction. They’re often horrific, and we often dismiss them as absurd,” she explained.
“So, let me get this straight,” Rivers began. “These things are partially human, partially something else. According to York, and from intelligence provided by Svetlana on behalf of her government, we believe these things are advanced. Fair enough. They are psychophysiology, they have autogenic abilities, they’re faster, they’re stronger, and they’re programmed with horrific memories, and a desire to kill. Am I right?”
“You got it.”
“The Colonel pointed it out earlier. I just didn’t understand why.”
“History has taught us that we don’t always need technology and large armies to win wars. This simply isn’t true, though I’d fully support the Colonel’s notion of a cheap, effective army. It makes sense. However, we all know one thing: we’re still here, in Afghanistan. We’re struggling against guys with AK-47s and motor oil to lube the barrels. They’re doing damn good against us, and one reason is quite simple. The men you are fighting today were once our allies.”
“Yeah, we heard that,” Rivers replied sarcastically.
“The Mujahideen hated the Soviets. We supported them, with both money and support. These cave complexes you boys go in, they’re made in America.”
“That’s fucked up,” he said.
“The Mujahideen were once great, the Taliban are now. Though the Mujahideen split, leaving multiple factions, many did cross over and join the Taliban. They couldn’t help it. These people were born into war. They’ve always warred. All we’re doing is introducing a new enemy by going in. This isn’t like Iraq. These people are different, and their memories usually cover up horrific times. The Soviets were quite cruel to them. They’ve remembered this through generations, and in genetics. They were born into the fear of invasion, and the simple disdain for it.”
“Ask why they’re winning?” Rivers said aloud to the room. “They’re winning ’cause no army wants a war of attrition. The end never justifies the means.”
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