Ultimate Power

by Arno Joubert

  Sergeant Leo Conrad stood, legs planets wide, a tendril of smoke swirling from the barrel of the Glock. Neil glanced over his shoulder. Lofti lay sprawled on the flat of his back, a neat bullet hole in his head and another in his chest.

  "Thanks," Neil said, yanking the second terrorist from his seat and cuffing him as well.

  "No problem," Conrad said, blowing the barrel like the cowboy in a Clint Eastwood movie. "There should be more."

  Neil nodded. "Everyone, stay down!"

  Neil slowly paced down the aisle, pointing his weapon between the aisles. The passengers held their hands up. Halfway down, he noticed another Arabic man sitting with a newspaper on his lap. "Take the paper away, please sir."

  "Sorry, I don't understand."

  Neil ripped the paper away.

  He was smartly dressed and he held a detonation device in his hand. The man stood up and held the device aloft. "I've got a bomb. Drop your weapons or I blow everyone up."

  Alexa felt her gyroscope slow down. A minute later, two pairs of hands grabbed her arms and unstrapped her from the device. The booming rhythms and flashing strobe lights continued their macabre disco-torture routine as they dragged her out of the room.

  The men held her up by her arms, pulling her like an oversized rag doll her, her feet dragging on the floor behind her. Her head was spinning, the world lurching from side to side and up and down again. This experience felt worse than being strapped to that damn torture machine. She gagged, trying to focus on her breathing again.

  She glanced up as they stopped in front of a doorway. It opened, and she was dragged into what looked like an indoor gym with a large pool. The two guards dragged her forward and unceremoniously dumped her into a lounger beside the pool. She sat up and bent forward, resting her head on her arms.

  Alexa lifted her eyes above her arms, scanning the undulating room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Wraparound glass windows covered one side of the large room, affording the viewer a panoramic vista of a rocky beach, sharp, tooth-like black rocks and the angry ocean beyond. Rain was pouring down and the wind swept up white spray from the crashing waves beyond the rocks.

  She turned to look as Major Wayne Rowley swam lazily towards her and climbed out. He ambled towards her, grabbing a towel. Steam rose from his pink skin; the pool was probably heated. "Captain, you look like crap," he said, drying his shoulder-length grey hair with a towel.

  Alexa managed to chuckle. He didn't look much better - his entire torso covered with scars and lesions.

  "This?" he asked, pointing to a scar running from his stomach to his soldier.

  She shrugged.

  "Terries got hold of me in Angola. Those Portuguese were some sick bastards." He was still chewing gum, his mouth making smacking sounds as he spoke.

  She put her hand in front of her mouth and burped, concentrating on her breathing again. The spinning in her head was slowing down to a steady and rhythmical sway.

  "How did you like my torture chamber?"

  She nodded, holding up a finger and burped again. Unable to keep the rising bile in her throat down, she put her head between her legs and barfed. She sat up and wiped her mouth, her entire body shivering. "Excellent, thank you, how long was I strapped to that thing?"

  Rowley chuckled. "An hour."

  "One hour?" It had felt like days. Alexa sat up straight. "You better do what you want to do with me soon, because we're being tracked. There'll be an army on your doorstep within a couple of hours."

  Rowley laughed. "Your GLD?"

  Alexa nodded, trying to swallow down the bile that was rising in her throat again. Her head had noticed that she wasn't spinning anymore, but her body was still trying to adjust to its new surroundings.

  Rowley shrugged, pulling on a white T-shirt. "Those things are worthless here. We use signal jammers over the entire island. No one will track you here, my china."

  "They'll follow our flight path."

  Again, the irritating grin. He chewed noisily a couple of times before answering. "Did you see what you're wearing?"

  She looked at the funny hazmat suit pulled over her clothes.

  "It contains Argenmesh which blocks the GPS signals. You can take it off if you want, hey."

  "Nah, I'm comfortable, thanks," she said.

  "Suit yourself," he said, chuckling at his joke.

  "What are you going to do with me?"

  He stood up straight and turned his head to her, smiling, chewing, looking smug. "If I had a penny for every time I've heard that question asked to me, lady." He rubbed his head with the towel. "Don't worry, I'm not going to rape you or anything," he said, drying his legs. "I'm not inclined that way." He winked. "That sweet daddy of yours better watch out though, hey," he said and laughed.

  "Look Rowley, if I throw you a stick, will you leave?" Alexa asked, massaging her temples. The room had stopped spinning, it was bobbing up and down, like she was sitting on a surfboard in the ocean.

  He laughed as he walked over to the far wall and picked up a remote. He switched on a large television set. "Come over here, check this out."

  An empty seat was visible on the television. Alexa stood up and steadied herself, trying to walk normally but settling on a steady swagger as she stumbled toward him. A man wearing a black suit, crisp white shirt and a black tie appeared in the picture, sat down. The image only showed his torso and neck, she couldn't see his face. "Captain Guerra, you look like a Parisian street whore who has just received the pounding of her life."

  Rowley chuckled as Alexa combed her hair with her fingers and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I feel that way," she said and burped. "Who're you?"

  The man rested his elbows on the table and formed a pyramid with his neatly manicured fingers. "Allan Sonti, pleased to meet you."

  "Do I know you?"

  She heard the man snigger. "Do you?"

  She sighed. "What do you want?"

  "You," the man said and smiled.

  "What?"

  "I've been following your career with a keen eye, Captain."

  Alexa nodded.

  "I want to make you an offer."

  "What do you mean, you've been following me?" Alexa asked.

  The man tsk-tsked. "Dear girl, have you not noticed how the acts of terrorism stopped while you were incapacitated? I gave you a breather to recover from your…, emotional trauma."

  She shrugged.

  "I did that for you!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at the screen. "I was waiting for you to heal before commencing with my plan."

  "Tell me about the offer," she said.

  "Come work for me and you will be handsomely rewarded. I'll spare the lives of your daughter and Sergeant Allen, your lover. As a matter of fact, today I'm in a generous mood, having seen my lovely Amazonian beauty, in the flesh, so to speak." He waved a hand. "I'll let all of you go."

  "No deal, pal."

  He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Such a pity." He started to stand up. "Ah well, I tried."

  "What are you going to do to us?" she shouted.

  He sat down again, his torso heaving a deep sigh. "I'll see if anyone is willing to pay a ransom for you three, I'm sure the General will fetch a handsome price. Then I'll take the money and kill you all."

  "Why?"

  His hand slammed down on the table, hard, causing his image to tilt to the side. He leaned forward and corrected the camera. "Because you're becoming like irritating little mutts, always getting beneath my feet."

  Alexa shrugged. "You know what they say."

  "No, what do they say, Captain?"

  Alexa smiled. "It's not the size of the bite that counts, it's how long you gnaw."

  The screen went dark.

  Rowley grabbed her arm. "Let's go, princess."

  Alexa wrenched herself free and shoved Rowley away, running toward the glass window, hoping she could find an opening to jump through. A shot reverberated through the room and a pane of glass shattered above her head
.

  "Stop Captain, or I'll shoot you in the head."

  She skidded to a halt and raised her hands. "Don't shoot," she said, slowly turning around.

  Rowley had the gun pointed at her chest, sauntering towards her. "Even if you get off this island, dolly, you have nowhere to go. You're twenty nautical miles from land. You'll drown if the sharks don't get to you first."

  "Was worth a try, I guess."

  He chuckled, lifted his shoulder an inch. "I guess."

  Alexa held her hands up in front of her, in a defensive posture. "Have you ever been strapped to one of those torture machines, Mr. Rowley?" she asked, taking a step towards him. She held out her arms, wrists up, ready to be cuffed.

  He shrugged. "No, why?"

  Alexa stepped to her the side and grabbed the gun by the barrel. A shot barked and the bullet whistled safely past her head. She twisted the gun in his hand and disarmed him. "Because you're about to find out how it feels," she said, spitting on her hand and trying to shake the burn away.

  She stepped behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressed the gun into his kidneys. "Now we're going for a little walk."

  He pulled at her arm. "You're choking me."

  She shrugged. "Payback.”

  President Nicole Rue lit another cigarette, inhaled deeply and stubbed it out impatiently in the overflowing ashtray. She glanced up at the television monitor again, but the red blips were still gone. "Where could they be?" she asked Henrie Dumas.

  He looked tired, the wisps of hair on his balding head standing up in all directions. He tugged at his tie as he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know, Madam President. "

  "Can't you charter a course from the airport where they were last seen?"

  "We could try, but we'll need to search a massive area, Madam President."

  "Are the troops on standby?" she asked, tapping another cigarette from the box.

  "Affirmative," Major Jacques Baptiste from the Intelligence Services said.

  They all looked up as President Rue pointed at the screen. "Look!" she shouted. The red blips had reappeared. She tossed the cigarette on the table. "Where is this?"

  Baptiste studied the map on the table, then tapped his forefinger on it. "Somewhere off the coast of Knifepoint Island, thirty five miles south west from here."

  "Major, mobilize your men. Let’s go," President Nicole Rue said to Dumas, grabbing her bag from the table.

  Alexa shoved Rowley through the door, holding him by the nape of his neck, the gun pushed into his kidneys. She steered him down the passageway. "Tell them to drop their weapons," she said as two men raised their pistols at them.

  "Put it down, my china's," Rowley shouted at them.

  They hesitated.

  "Drop it, okes."

  The guns clattered to the ground.

  Alexa pushed Rowley in front of her. "Take me to Bruce and Laiveaux." She pushed him ahead, gathering the weapons as they passed.

  He strode through the passageway and stopped in front of a nondescript brown door. It had no special markings, looking like the dozen of others they had passed.

  "Open it," she ordered.

  He punched a combination into a keypad beside the door and swung it open. The stomach-churning rumbling made her swallow. "Switch that damn thing off."

  She pushed the gun into his ribs as his hand went to his pocket.

  "Easy, dolly," he said as he fished a remote from his pocket and held it in the air. He pressed two buttons. The strobing flashes stopped and the noise abated.

  "Stop those things," Alexa said.

  He pushed another button and the gyroscopes started slowing down.

  "Release them," she ordered.

  He unstrapped Laiveaux and Bruce, Alexa watching him closely, the gun pointed at his head.

  Laiveaux fell onto his knees, gagging and hacking. Bruce was semi-conscious, shaking his head from side to side and moaning.

  "Help me," she ordered the general.

  Laiveaux lifted a hand, standing on all fours. "Give me a minute."

  "Come on, General, we have no time."

  He stood up unsteadily and helped Alexa strap Rowley into the gyroscope. Alexa pressed a button on the remote. The machine started swaying and rocking.

  She handed Laiveaux the pistol. "Okay, let's go," she said and wrapped Bruce's arm around her shoulder. Laiveaux helped her heave him to his feet, grabbing him by his belt.

  She slammed the door behind them, and they shuffled down the passageway, dragging Bruce between them.

  "Where are we going?" Laiveaux asked, breathing heavily.

  "There's a pool, I think we can get out that way."

  Laiveaux nodded, a grim look on his face.

  Alexa stopped at the fifteenth door down, and she turned the doorknob. It was locked. "Shit."

  "Look out," Laiveaux shouted and ducked as two men appeared around the corner and started firing on them. He fired back and both of them went down.

  Laiveaux hurried over to one of the injured men, grabbing him by his collar and dragging him toward the door. "Open it," he ordered.

  The man shook his head, blood streaming from a wound in his shoulder.

  "Open it, dammit!" Laiveaux shouted, pushing a thumb into the wound. The man shrieked and Laiveaux took his thumb away.

  "Three, zero, nine, three," the man groaned, blinking away the tears.

  Alexa punched in the code and the door clicked open.

  "Thanks." Laiveaux pistol-whipped the man on the back of the head. They dragged Bruce through the door as they heard more excited voices shouting in the passageway.

  Alexa ripped a towel from a railing on the wall and yanked the railing out of its bracket. She used the pistol as a hammer, flattening an end of the railing before she jammed it between the door and the floor. She dragged Bruce to his feet again. "C'mon Dad, work with me."

  "We need to get out of here," she screamed, firing at the wraparound window. Laiveaux helped her and they dragged Bruce to the shattered window and pulled him through. They exited the building, walking onto what looked like a grassed terrace and scrambled down towards the jagged rocks. "Bruce, wake up," Alexa shouted, the pain in her thigh a red-hot poker causing her to limp.

  A man appeared in a window a floor above them and Laiveaux fired at him. "Go, Alexa, I'll keep them occupied."

  Alexa dragged Bruce backward by his belt and collar, awkwardly maneuvering him onto some rocks and managing to drag him into a shallow tidal pool, then took cover behind one of the large stones.

  Bruce grimaced, opened an eye and shook his head. He stood on all fours and vomited into the water.

  "How are you feeling?" Alexa asked.

  "My brain is hurting," he said, pulling his face. "What's going on?"

  "We managed to get out, but we need to get off the island, they're jamming our GLD signals."

  "You're wounded," Bruce said, looking concerned.

  "Flesh wound, nothing serious." She glanced up as Laiveaux made his way towards them, firing over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go," she shouted.

  She gave Laiveaux covering fire and he scurried toward them, slipping in behind the rock and settling in beside her. "What now?"

  Alexa shrugged. "I'm almost out of ammo."

  Laiveaux nodded grimly. "I have a couple of shots left, then that's it."

  "How far do we need to get off the island before the GLD's start working again?" Bruce asked, sitting up.

  Alexa chewed her lip. "Probably a couple of hundred meters, three hundred tops."

  "So what are we waiting for?" Bruce asked, standing up.

  They scrambled over the rocks into deeper water, then dove in and started swimming, navigating their way through the waves. A wave smashed into Bruce and bashed his head against a rock. He stood up wiping the water from his face, his head bleeding profusely. "Swim, Daddy," Alexa shouted.

  She pulled him behind her as he struggled to get through the waves, glancing over her shoulder as she he
ard a large caliber rifle shot. A bullet exploded into the water, an inch from her head. "Duck, they're using snipers."

  They ducked below the waves. Another bullet burst into the water close by. "We need to get further out," she shouted.

  They swam until the lights on the shore were twinkling pinheads in the dark.

  "Get out of the suits," she said, paddling water.

  They pulled off the suits, Alexa struggling to pull it over her head and paddling at the same time, her shoulder throbbing with pain. Laiveaux helped her and they dumped the suits in the water.

  “Alexa?” Bruce said, his voice anxious as he grabbed her arm.

  "What?"

  "Something bumped my leg."

  Alexa turned around to face her dad who was paddling furiously. He had an alarmed look on his face. She dove down into the water and came straight back up. "We're surrounded by bull sharks."

  Alexa ducked as she heard another shot. "Shit," Laiveaux shouted. He was clutching his shoulder, blood oozing through his fingers.

  Alexa yanked her shirt off and tore it into strips. She pushed a wad of material into the general's wound, binding it as tightly as she could. She turned to Bruce. "Calm down, Daddy, you don't need to flop around like this."

  "We're surrounded by bloody sharks, Alexa," he shouted, teeth chattering.

  "Stay calm, Bruce," Laiveaux chimed in, not looking too confident himself.

  Alexa dove down and came up a couple of seconds later. "Shit, the water is teeming with them."

  "Okay, let's stick together. It's a myth that they'll attack-- Ow!" Laiveaux shouted, his neck muscles knotted into cords. "One bumped into me."

  Bruce's teeth chattered, the cold wind whipping his hair back. "I'm freezing, how long before we die of hypothermia?"

  "Fifteen minutes," Laiveaux answered.

  Alexa dove down again. One of the sharks made a lazy turn and headed straight at them, opening his mouth. She only had one chance at this. She waited until he was less than two feet away from her before she fired straight at him. The bullet exploded from the barrel with a bubbling fizz, hitting the shark in the eye.