With These Eyes

by Horst Steiner

  "Sorry, you need to stay and protect Fuji."

  Tonati put his right paw against Fuji's hip for a moment; he understood. Isabelle gave the nervous puma a kiss on top of his big nose. She grabbed goggles and board, and exited into Fuji's front yard. Her two friends followed. The island's harbor laid in the distance. Fuji stood beside Isabelle, he pointed to an icebreaker that was anchored off shore.

  "Give Lars my regards, he's a good man. Remember, Isabelle: It is fear that brings the lemming to its demise."

  This was difficult for Isabelle. Once again, she was leaving loved ones in her journey through life. The young woman could feel the pressure from her pursuers increase. Isabelle knew without the help of the friends she was leaving behind, she would have already been caught. Fuji's wisdom and the connection with nature she had learned from Tonati were going to be with Isabelle on her journey, regardless. Fuji and Isabelle exchanged a long look. He could only hope that he had given his apprentice the weapons she needed to face this manifestation of darkness, which had blanketed the globe like a parrot's cage. Gemma had told him this moment would come. Isabelle didn't know it, but the fate of humanity was going to be decided by the outcome of her struggle. Fuji saw in her eyes the confidence of a warrior who was ready to fight for the survival of the tribe. He could tell that she left fear no chance to distract Isabelle from her defenses. The young woman was surprised at the warrior qualities she harbored. She had always stood her ground in the past but never had to fight so fiercely to find the truth or to stay alive. Everything she had learned to this point was going help her on her quest. There wasn't another person like her in the world, and that would give Isabelle an edge. No matter how cunning, her pursuers wouldn't be able to anticipate all her moves. Like this one.

  "Thanks for everything, Fuji."

  She didn't have any more time to waste. Isabelle rode off along the side of the mountain, towards the lights of the harbor in the distance. Like a paper lantern, the large moon lit up the icy landscape. A few scattered Northern Lights moved across the starry sky. The streaks of light cycled in yellow and green, dancing as earth's dynamic field of magnetism shifted high above in a gust of solar wind. For thousands of years people had ascribed magical powers to the aurorae, a theory Isabelle didn't discount just because she knew what made them glow. Often, people considered magic what they didn't understand. Maybe there was more to aurorae borealis than just a glow in the sky, Isabelle wondered. The wind was hissing in her ears. Her feet felt the crunch of the snow under the board. The lights from the harbor and the faintly illuminated icebreaker still seemed far away. The wind hissed louder when her ears popped, with much of the decent still ahead.

  Despite all the problems her pursuers had caused Isabelle, in this particular moment, she felt a sense of appreciation. The sight of the Arctic island at her feet and the feel of the pristine elements surrounding her, gave Isabelle great enjoyment. This was what Fuji had been talking about. Fear would have kept her from recognizing the beauty that laid within this moment. It kept many people from having a mind clear enough to make the right decisions. Isabelle felt very powerful at that moment. She felt the awesomeness of nature, stripped of man's devices. Isabelle was one with nature. She glanced at the narrow and icy roadway that lead from the town below up the coastline. Nature's light show had been disrupted by a row of blue flashing lights that was snaking towards the split in the frozen roadway. The snake slithered up the road that lead to Fuji's retreat. Isabelle knew the police were getting help from someone, good thing she didn't stay for another cup of tea at Fuji's.

  The harbor wasn't so far away any more. The serenity had been replaced by extreme concentration and the pressure to evade the police. If she succeeded, Isabelle would still have to deal with her pursuers' relentlessness. Isabelle didn't know what was coming next, she concentrated on feeling the snow under her board.

  In the control room of her mobile command post, Tasha was watching a live satellite image of the mountainside. Isabelle's face and gloves glowed bright yellow. "She still thinks she can outsmart us." Tasha was amused by the resourcefulness of her prey and the fact that she had tagged her with her mark.

  Isabelle soon arrived at the island's small harbor. She unbuckled her snow board, stuck it upright into the snow and walked across the small parking lot. Its frozen surface was covered in sand. A few cars were parked scattered across the lot. Like horses' reigns at a hitching post, cables for their engine-block heaters tied the cars to their spots. At one of the docks, Isabelle spotted him. Fuji's description was uncanny. He had said Lars would be the only Nordic marine biologist in the harbor. A mismatched combination of native clothing and high-end thermal gear was the trademark of his craft. Isabelle was looking at a man in a woolen Norwegian hat with intricate indigenous designs. His green and blue jacket and matching snow pants were made from several layers of thermal fabric and sported the brand's four-legged animal logo in stitching over his heart. Atop thermal gloves, a pair of crocheted mittens left his hands guarded from the frosty night. He was quite a different sight from the dock workers clad in their thick brown thermal coveralls and jackets. The self-evident marine biologist was watching a crane lift a yellow research submarine out of dry dock and into the water.

  Isabelle sidled up behind him. "Nice vessel, Herr Valkeere."

  The man turned around. It was obvious the submersible craft was his pride and joy. With wide eyes and a smile, he responded to Isabelle's compliment. "Thanks, just getting my baby out of dry dock." It dawned on him how unusual it was that this woman he had never met knew who he was. He did sense a certain familiarity with her. With the same warm smile and a puzzled look he began to ask, "How did you..."

  Isabelle interrupted him. "My very good friend Fuji Satori told me I might find you here." Isabelle extended her arm in greeting, "my name Isabelle de Fleur."

  Lars shook her hand. Hers was a name he knew. "Gemma's girl?"

  With a smile whose warmth he could feel in her handshake, Isabelle nodded. He was truly happy to see the daughter of his old friend. "Please call me Lars. I used to take your mother up here, back when she was still..." he realized his callous comment may have opened up an old wound. "Oh, I'm sorry."

  Isabelle's face turned more somber. "I'm used to the thought of her gone," she said but deep inside, she hadn't accepted the thought at all.

  A few miles from the harbor, the unusual garbage truck was circling in a loop with the platoon swarming along to avoid getting stuck with their engines frozen. At the center console inside her mobile command post, Tasha was watching Isabelle's exchange with Lars on a satellite image. Isabelle's brightly glowing hands and face had become Tasha's leash after the secret tooth transmitter shorted out in the seed bank. Tasha had been on the road because of this one person non-stop. She would not interrupt her mission for meal breaks, so Tasha took in sustenance when it was tactically feasible. This was one of those moments. She was eating meat from a ration can with her favorite combat knife. Food tasted best to Tasha with action. She was fascinated by Isabelle's resourcefulness and resilience. Tasha had gotten so deeply engrossed in Isabelle's image, she forgot the sharp blade that had delivered a chunk of meat was still in her mouth when she bit down on her food. Immediately, the knife took on its original function - to cut living flesh. The razor-sharp titanium blade left a gash oozing blood from Tasha's lip. The sting of her blade gave Tasha the sensation of battle. She pulled the sharpened metal away from her lip. A lick with her tongue and the taste of her own blood confirmed for her body what Tasha's mind was seeing so far removed from the physical location of battle. The warrior was on the hunt, mind and body.

  At the harbor, Lars was excited to meet Isabelle, but the words he was about to utter were mirrored by a face of sorrow. “There is so much I'd like to talk to you about, but my ship is leaving late already because of this.” He pointed to the yellow submersible. It was floating in the water dockside, the harbor workers were removing the last two straps that tied it to the cran
e. His eyes said he wanted to talk to Isabelle, but his words bore a different message. "If we stay anchored any longer, we'll be frozen in." Lars jumped onto the short deck of the research vessel. Isabelle knew she had to leave Spitsbergen. The sound of approaching police sirens reaffirmed the urgency of her departure. Lars gave her a questioning look when he heard the sirens of what must have been every police car on the island approach.

  Isabelle's sincerity was in her voice. "Don't worry, I didn't..."

  Lars read the situation for what it was. He cut Isabelle off in mid-sentence while extending his hand towards her from the boat. "I have a hunch I might know what this is about. Your mother had these problems at the end. Jump in!"

  Isabelle took his hand and jumped aboard. She followed her new-found friend through the hatch of the underwater craft. Control panels lined both sides of the submarine's interior. Isabelle closed the hatch behind herself and turned the wheel at its bottom to seal the boat for diving. The front of the craft consisted of a bubble-window that offered pilot and co-pilot an all around view of the icy abyss. Lars took his seat behind the conn. Isabelle was soon seated next to him and the small submarine flooded its ballasts to dive.

  Tasha had the satellite view of the harbor on her main screen. Like a spectator at the racetrack, she was quietly rooting for the procession of police cars to reach the docks in time. Soon, the convoy arrived at the port and Tasha saw police swarm out across the compound. "We've lost contact with the package," reported the Trooper to Tasha's left. One of the patrol cars had nearly reached the submarine's dock, when the bright yellow glow from Isabelle's marker vanished in a vortex of bubbles and water. "The water is shielding particle detection."

  "Find out where the sub is going!" Tasha barked in fury.

  Both Troopers were busily searching for an answer to give their angry commander. One of them found access to the day's work orders for the shipyard. Among them, the repair of the submarine's bent rudder. "Vessel owner's registry includes a research icebreaker currently anchored offshore. Next registered port of call is Copenhagen, Denmark."

  Tasha was ready to continue her global pursuit with mixed feelings. She was upset the prey continued to evade her, but looked forward to another piece of heavy, high-tech machinery. Tasha enjoyed all the weapons and technology she had at her disposal. She truly felt she had the upper hand over nature. Her orders, as usual, were curt. "Platoon, this is Tiger-Eye. Package is on the move to Denmark. Company will board amphibian assault craft at hoverport immediately." The driver of the heavy spy truck turned his wheel, skidding to turn on the frozen roadway. The platoon in their four-wheel drive vehicles followed suit.

  In a convoy of darkness, Tasha and her Troopers thundered across the island towards the company's hoverport, adjacent to the docks where Isabelle had slipped away.

  22 LIONEL GETS WORSE

  At the same time in Los Angeles, Isabelle's father Lionel was suffering from the increasing toll the virus was taking on his body. His swollen eyes were focused on a picture in his hand. In the center of the bamboo frame was a photo of Isabelle, Gemma and him in the early 1990s in the jungle of South America. Lionel's body was aching with every labored breath. His one chance was for his only daughter, his pride and joy, to defeat Apophis and stop their assault on the world. Lionel had a lot of faith in Isabelle's abilities but this seemed too big to take on, even for her.

  Lionel felt utterly helpless.

  23 A MAN WHO SAILED THE SEAS

  The submarine that was carrying Isabelle to safety had become a pod of calmness. Despite the threats looming on the surface, Isabelle had managed to find a place of serenity. Isabelle had driven and flown many vehicles, but a submarine was something she had always wanted to pilot. She was anxious to broach the subject with Lars.

  "Looks like flying a really slow plane," she said to him with anticipation in her voice.

  Lars wasn't surprised that Gemma's daughter turned out to be handy with vehicles. He returned her smile. "That's about the gist of it, except you don't have to worry about stall speed." Lars felt compelled to offer his vessel to Isabelle. "You want to try?"

  Without hesitating or even saying another word, Isabelle had her hands on the conn. With amazing grace, she piloted the craft through the pristine waters of the Arctic Ocean. The powerful headlights reached far through the aquatic night. Their bright beams illuminated colorful jellyfish that floated in clusters along the way. Isabelle made a few yaw and dive maneuvers to steer clear of the swarm of translucent animals when out of the darkness, a small herd of seals appeared. The curious animals playfully swam along. The seals seemed equally fascinated by Isabelle in her unusual vehicle. After a short journey, the submarine was nearing the icebreaker. Lars picked up the radio.

  "Galaska, this is Nemo, we are in approach for dock. Stand by to hoist the anchor."

  The call was answered from the icebreaker's bridge by the first mate Knut. "Copy, Nemo, submarine bay is standing by." Knut pushed the blue button near the wheel. The booming sound of the ship's horn rang out across the water. The ship's crew and its staff of marine biologists knew this was the sign for departure. The scientists stowed their experiments for travel. The crew sprang into action with preparations to sail back towards the warmer temperatures of Europe's mainland.

  The submarine was approaching the ship's docking bay. Lars was back on the controls, although Isabelle had insisted on her ability to properly dock with the icebreaker. The small sub surfaced inside the ship's bay. Lars shut down the main power and opened the hatch. He climbed the submersible's ladder and stepped onto the docking bay, followed by Isabelle. The moment her head appeared in the opening, a deafening alarm sounded across the submarine bay accompanied by yellow flashing lights. It was the ship's radiation alert. Lars looked at Isabelle and with a smile, he shook his head. This was just what he would have expected from the daughter of his old friend Gemma de Fleur. Fortunately for Isabelle, the science vessel was equipped to deal with small radioactive incidents. Once again, the universe had presented Isabelle with a way to nullify one of Tasha's weapons. Soon, she was in the ship's decontamination shower, removing all traces of Tasha's radioactive isotope from her face and hands.

  Not far from the dock where Isabelle had escaped on the submarine, Tasha and her Troopers were hastily boarding the company's Arctic amphibian assault vehicle. A hovercraft large enough to carry 40 passengers on its bi-weekly route to Europe, was powering up to serve its true purpose as a troop carrier for Gene and Tasha's covert operations. Many of the vehicles Tasha utilized served regular civilian duties. The Troopers' cars would generally come from one of Apophis' many auto rental subsidiaries. Aside from her specialized surveillance trucks, most vehicles and vessels would recoup their cost through passenger and cargo service. This helped maintain the fleet's covert status and gave Tasha countless methods to hide in plain sight.

  The garbage truck was parked at the hovercraft's dock. Two car-carriers with emblems of an Apophis rental division, were pulling into the harbor's snowy parking lot. Soon their drivers were loading the Troopers' 12 undercover cars onto their transporters. The hovercraft was painted charcoal grey and its aerodynamic shape suggested this was more than a simple ferry boat. The craft had been scheduled to take a load of passengers to Denmark the next day. Poor Weather would be the only reason given to ticket holders for the cancellation of their journey. This was an excuse most accepted when given the extreme cold of the polar region. Tasha boarded the bridge while her Troopers were loading in. Several seamen and the Captain stood at attention and saluted Tasha. The Sea Captain was an old salt who was hungry for battle. His skin was dark and weathered like an old bomber's jacket from the decades he spent at sea. He once ran a commando boat, but spent the past few years ferrying civilians from Europe to the Arctic onboard one of Apophis' most unique weapons. He had kept his security clearance throughout the years due to the craft's hidden secrets and because a moment like this could have come at anytime. Like a blood-hungry jackal, he
was eager to join Tasha's hunt, although he had never before acted under the command of a woman. Such a thing was unheard of in his years as an active warrior. It felt a bit strange but he had to say it.

  "Welcome aboard, Commander."

  Tasha snapped the tip of her flat hand towards her temple. She was in a hurry. "Thank you, Captain. We need to shove off right away."

  "Aye!" shouted the Captain, he was ready.

  The ship's projected course from the Arctic island to Scandinavia was plotted on a pane of glass in the middle of the bridge. Tasha marched towards a steel door in the aft of the bridge. She passed through, followed by a couple of her Troopers. Behind the door was the ship's surveillance deck. Interactive screens and access to Tasha's familiar armada of ground and satellite based spy technology provided the deck's interior. Tasha had designed one very efficient surveillance room and applied that model to Apophis' global fleet of covert vehicles. This enabled her and the Troopers to quickly move from one spyroom to the next without the need for retraining or adaptation. The hovercraft was no different. Tasha took her seat in the center chair, directly in front of the large view-screen. The two Troopers that entered the room with her swiftly took their positions in the remaining seats to either side of their commander. The Trooper on Tasha's right placed a thumb-drive in of the console's ports. The memory device contained Isabelle's last coordinates and information for the surveillance system about available spy feeds and any other selections Tasha's Troopers had made on the big board. A few moments passed and the screens matched the configuration from the garbage truck. The displays all filled with lost-signal messages.