Dawn of a New Era (Crimson Blue Book 1)
Page 14
They stared at each other with intensity for another few seconds, both focused on finishing in first. And neither one was willing to back down to let the other get that spot or interfere with their pursuit of it.
As David and Xavier lay in their room together going over the rankings David interrupted the conversation.
“Hey X… where was your family today?”
A long pause filled the air. David could sense something was wrong.
“You do not have to tell me if you do not want to. You just never talk about them.”
Xavier let out a deep long sigh. He closed his eyes and wasn’t sure if he wanted to open up about his family just yet. He hesitated for another minute. David had been a loyal friend up to this point, there was no reason for him to not trust him.
“My family adopted me… they aren’t immediate family. They didn’t meet the qualifications.”
David rolled over in his bed to look at Xavier.
“Is it alright for me to ask about your immediate family?”
Xavier took another deep breath. He spoke shakily. David had never seen him so vulnerable.
“My family was murdered when I was twelve. A bomb went off on a major city bridge. My dad drove my mother, who was eight months pregnant with my brother, to safety. He rushed to help some people. But the bridge collapsed and everyone near the drive fell into the water. Nearly 300 civilians died that day.”
Xavier stared at the ceiling for a minute. David’s eyes welled up.
“I’m sorry X. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay… that’s actually the first time I have talked to anyone other than my adopted family about it. Thanks for listening.”
Xavier rolled over to look at David.
“You have an awesome family David. Take good care of them, never take them for granted.”
David nodded at Xavier. They both rolled over to look at the ceiling. The silence lulled both of them to sleep. The next test was upon them. Only time would tell how they would fare in the weapons competition.
Chapter 18
October 4th 2062 4:00 a.m. (Day Seventy-Two) Crimson Manor, Berlin, Germany
The recruits arrived to a long line of Crimson Force officers. All the Captains, Commanders and Lieutenants from the Strike Force and the Honor Guard awaited their arrival. They were all going to work together to teach the art of using the ancient weapons of combat, swords, and bows. Up until ten weeks ago, Xavier was under the impression these weapons only existed in stories. They were the only weapons in existence that were designed to be lethal. It was the role of the Strike Force to eliminate any threats to world peace before they could come into power, and it was the role of the Honor Guard to defend all world leaders from potential threats. In that moment it hit Xavier: He was being trained to be an assassin.
The wall displayed all of the practice weapons available to the recruits. The officers in front of them specialized in certain disciplines. Whichever weapon they would choose, they would be trained by the officer who was the most proficient in its use. It had come to light that Commander Fernandez was the most skilled weapon user. She gave the introductions to the various kinds of weapons the recruits could use, and they were broken up into four categories: one-handed swords and daggers, two-handed long swords, projectiles, and unconventional weapons. Once they made their choice, there was no going back. Training was going to go fast. They would have four weeks to learn how to use their discipline, four weeks of training with constant critiques, one week of training with a partner, and the final week would be a tournament that would decide who the top four contenders from both squads would be.
Xavier was fidgeting and couldn’t hold back his smile. He had been longing to learn these skills ever since he saw Captain Walsh and President Conrad’s exhibition. Commander Fernandez called for a volunteer, and Xavier ran up before she could finish her statement. She tried to hide her smile.
“Pick a weapon, recruit.”
Xavier had been staring at a slightly curved single edge blade with a circular guard. The blade itself was a little more than two feet with an eighteen-inch grip for two hands. Captain Stanley coughed in surprise, losing his composure for the first time since training started. Commander Fernandez shared in his awe. A cold silence fell over the room. She suggested Xavier try another weapon, advising him on the difficulty of the discipline, but his mind had been made up since he saw the book in the library with David. Captain Stanley and Captain Walsh were whispering in the corner while Commander Fernandez did her best to give a crash course in the use of the katana, but Xavier could tell she wasn’t very familiar with this weapon.
He shifted into a stance that felt right, and Commander Fernandez laughed as she drew her practice rapier. Xavier’s stance was all wrong. He attacked, and she stepped to the side. In a single stroke, her blade was at his throat.
“So you like touching me?” Xavier whispered to her with a cocky smile.
She stepped forward and took a defensive stance. “Hit me.”
Xavier attempted on three different occasions, failing every time, and the rest of the recruits laughed at him. On the final attempt, he swung and she blocked. He reversed. In another quick move, she tripped him, disarmed him, and had his own sword at his throat.
“Or perhaps I like beating you up,” she whispered back before letting him up.
All the recruits had the opportunity to choose their weapon. With only one opportunity to switch, they had to choose carefully. David chose the falchion and would be training with Lieutenant Commander Ribeiro. The weapon was similar to a machete, and the discipline was very bouncy. Xavier thought it was the perfect choice for him. Oscar chose the Claymore, which was a very large, two-handed sword. It was similar to what Captain Stanley used. Charlie chose the knightly arming sword, and both of them would be training with Captain Walsh. All the choice weapons seemed to fit the personalities of the recruits very well. Xavier stood by himself as all of the recruits lined up by their coaches. Commander Fernandez, Captain Stanley, and Captain Walsh were huddled in a corner talking about Xavier.
Xavier stood in confusion until Captain Walsh waved him over.
“No one has the adequate information to properly train you in the samurai discipline, and that is why Commander Fernandez suggested another weapon. No one has used the samurai sword in nearly a decade, but if you are committed to learning the art of the samurai, we will help where we can. Unfortunately, much of your training will have to be done on your own. This is your last chance to choose something else.”
There was a long pause between the four of them. Xavier finally spoke up. “Commander…you said this was one of the most difficult disciplines to learn, is that right?”
“That is correct.”
“I chose to come here because I knew it would challenge me and push me past my limits. If you are telling me that this discipline is the most difficult, then I want to learn it. I came here to be the best.”
Captain Stanley was beaming. “It is decided then.”
Captain Walsh tried once more to convince Xavier otherwise. “This could have a disastrous effect on your performance in the tournament.”
“I can do it,” Xavier replied.
Captain Walsh and Commander Fernandez nodded in consolation.
“Follow me,” Captain Walsh said, leading the way.
The two of them made their way to the library. Upon entry, they ran into President Conrad.
“Good morning, Captain. Shouldn’t you be in training right now?”
“Yes, sir. A situation requires my immediate attention.”
President Conrad looked at him inquisitively for a moment. “And what might that be?”
Captain Walsh hesitated, and then explained the situation to the President. He looked at Xavier, putting his hands in his pocket and staring at him. A smile began to stretch across his face.
“I admire your passion, recruit.”
President Conrad patted the side of Captain Walsh’s shoulder.
“I will take it from here, Captain. We want to set all of our recruits up for success. Head back to the other recruits. I will work with Mr. Phillip.”
Captain Walsh saluted. “As you wish.”
President Conrad called back to him. “And let Captain Stanley and Commander Fernandez know that their recruit is well taken care of.”
Captain Walsh nodded. Xavier looked at President Conrad with confusion. How is he going to help me? he wondered.
“This way, Mr. Phillip.”
They arrived at his office, and the President called out to his assistant. “Cancel all of my appointments for the next four weeks, Robert.”
He turned back to Xavier. “If you need anything in the next four weeks and I am unavailable, please feel free to reach out to Robert. We will take care of you. Now…we have work to do. If memory serves me correctly, we have less than two hundred and eighty-eight hours to teach you the basics of the katana and make you a proficient user so you can excel.”
Robert called out to the President. “You are supposed to be meeting with the continental leaders next week, sir.”
“Postpone it. One of our own is in need. They can function without me.”
President Conrad led Xavier deeper into his office. He pressed a button under his desk that opened up a long painting of a beautiful mountain ridge and snowy hills that was mounted on his back wall. In it was a set of three katanas, one long one and two shorter ones, a zweihander, a rapier, and a long weapon that resembled an ax.
“What is that?” Xavier asked, pointing to the ax.
“That is called a halberd. It is an ancient weapon from a time when honor and respect dominated the world.”
“And you know how to use all these weapons?”
“Yes, sir. In a time in the not-too-distant past, all these weapons were used as sport. Men and women from all over the world would compete in friendly competitions in order to honor the country they came from.”
He paused with a longing look in his eye.
“Those days have long since gone. The world needs to see unity. That is one of the reasons Alexander Crimson started the Force. He wanted to bring together the top minds and talents from all over the world in order to lead the way in coming together and working for the common good of everyone in it. The war changed all of that. My hope is that we can get back there one day. We must always be on guard and ready to protect peace. Enough of an old man’s ramblings. We must train you in the art of the katana.”
“Art?”
“Yes. What you are training in is an art. I imagine Commander Fernandez calls it a discipline. That is okay, because that is what soldiers think of it as. But I assure you, there is an art to it. The grandmasters who created these disciplines saw them as an art form. The competitions I used to compete in judged them as an art. It was an opportunity for the users to communicate their passion. It is like water; every move should flow into the next. It is the same for your hand-to-hand combat. It must flow. I will teach you how to let it flow.”
Xavier was already impressed with President Conrad, but the last ten minutes overwhelmed him. He couldn’t help but feel privileged and honored that he would take the time to work with him. He had never seen such devotion from a leader. They proceeded to the library, and it was there that they worked.
President Conrad was very patient and kind, and he was also a brilliant teacher. When he demonstrated stances and base movements, he would also talk about the ideals behind them and the purpose for them. He would often say that there was a purpose behind everything. Every move, every step, every look, and every motion had a purpose, a reason.
At meal times, President Conrad had Robert bring them their food. They would take a short break and get back to work. Xavier felt like he was working harder under the tutelage of President Conrad then he ever did training with the group. Everything was a teaching moment with him, and he turned every inanimate object into a history lesson and message for Xavier to apply to his craft. At the end of the day, Xavier was exhausted in both body and mind. He couldn’t stop thanking President Conrad in their final conversation of the evening. The President concluded the conversation with a gentle smile on his face.
“Meet me here tomorrow at four hundred hours. We will pick it up then. Good work today. I expect even more tomorrow.”
As Xavier made his way back to his dorm, he ran into David, whose face seemed to tense up with both relief and wonder. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been training in the library, where have you been?”
“There were rumors that you had been kicked out.”
“That’s ridiculous, why would I be kicked out?”
“You were not at meals…and…well…you chose the katana, and…”
“And what? No one could teach me to use the katana because it hadn’t been used in a long time. I was told I was gonna have to teach myself and practice on my own.”
“Oh. Well…”
“But on the way over, we ran into President Conrad, who apparently was a competition champion and a gold medal winner in weapons in the last Olympic Games before the war started.”
David’s jaw dropped and his eyebrows rose. “I had no idea he was an Olympian! That is cool!”
The two exchanged stories about their weapons training experiences for the next hour. Xavier discovered that it was Charlie that had started the rumor about him being kicked out. “Of course it was Charlie. That guy is the bane of my existence. I can’t wait to fight him in the tournament.”
Xavier had a hard time falling asleep. For the majority of the time he had been in Berlin, he had felt like an outcast, but President Conrad’s patience, kindness, and encouraging words helped him feel like he belonged. For the first time, he felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.
The next day, Xavier and David went their separate ways. David headed to the training room and Xavier went to the library. David told the other recruits that Xavier was training on his own and that he was not kicked out. No one that knew the truth said anything to the other recruits about Xavier training with the President. Xavier found it odd but felt that if David and the officers didn’t feel comfortable telling everyone else, then he wasn’t going to tell them either.
On days off, Xavier would sit at meals with everyone but would train on his own and do some workouts and stretches that President Conrad had shown him. Xavier loved training. It helped him tune everything else out. There was something about the separation that energized him and helped him focus. He wanted to be the best, and he was not going to finish in second place again. The only way he could make sure that happened was to train harder than Oscar.
The four weeks of weapons training flew by. On their final training day before Xavier would spar with the other recruits, President Conrad planned an extended dinner time. He wanted to have a heart to heart.
“Xavier, you are one of the most physically gifted recruits we have ever had. I am so impressed by your focus, fortitude, and passion. You possess a rare gift to be able to focus on the mission, almost otherworldly even. When you make the cut, we are going to ask you to do some terrible things. You may even see the worst of humanity. I wish it was not the case, but unfortunately the journey to world peace requires sacrifices of the few who are willing to do what is necessary. Thank you for your willingness to be one of those heroes.
“You have not been open as to why you are so devoted to being the best. I know that you have had a tough time fitting in here, and some of your fellow recruits have even gone out of their way to make you feel like you do not belong here. Do not take it personally. They are merely threatened by you. Trust me, I have seen and shook the hands of many Crimson Force members. You belong here. You have a lot to offer. There are more people on your side than there are against you. Do not be afraid to let people in. No man is an island, no matter how gifted they may be. You belong to this family. Let people help you, or you may find yourself in more dire straits than you ever thought possible.”
Xavier was touched by his words. He could not thank him enough for all that he did for him in the last four weeks. They sparred a few more times, and Xavier disarmed him every time. The President put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder, his face full of joy and satisfaction.
“You are ready. Good work, Mr. Phillip. I am proud of you.”
Xavier welled up inside. He hadn’t heard someone say they were proud of him since before his father passed away. The two shook hands and Xavier thanked him profusely. Xavier made his way to his dorm thinking over all that President Conrad had said and taught him. He felt full of purpose and mission for the first time since he left for the United States Navy. His only obstacle now was to win the tournament.
That night as Xavier was asleep, David was once again awakened in the middle of the night by members of the Research and Development squad. Xavier was confused, unsure if this was normal protocol or not. He tried to fall back asleep, but his curiosity kept him awake.