With These Eyes

by Horst Steiner

  "I'm going to handle her myself. Secure the tunnel exit! The rest of you be ready on the other end." She turned her attention to one of her men who was carrying a digital pad. "Trooper, disable the track's sensors and proximity warnings. Give me green signals all across." In a loud roar, Tasha barreled off towards the rail yard. She didn't want to get stopped by a red signal. The covert warrior knew railroads were divided into sections and only one rail vehicle could be in each zone at a time. Any vehicle licensed to travel on rail in Scandinavia or Denmark was equipped with remote power shut-off, which would trigger if it ever ran past a stop-signal.

  A few taps on his interactive screen and the Trooper had pulled up a diagram of the Öresund train-authority's rail system. Two trains were traveling eastbound and a passenger train on the bridge westbound in the direction of the tunnel. A few taps and an override command set the signals along both tracks to green.

  Tasha's truck rumbled across a few rows of rail. She turned the oversized tires onto the track leading to the tunnel's westbound tube. She had no time to waste and without stopping, she pulled the yellow knob near the gear shift to extend the rail-support wheels. Tasha held the vehicle's steering steady while the hissing of pneumatics indicated the set of four metal wheels extending. A single jerk of the cab let her know she was locked on. Her foot pushed heavily on the gas pedal. With a growl of the natural-gas engine, Tasha disappeared into the tunnel. Five members of her platoon rushed to the opening and positioned themselves on both sides with their automatic weapons. The rest of the platoon hurried back to the hovercraft. The Sea Captain was glad to be once again, the highest ranking officer on his ship. With the last Trooper boarded, the hydrofoil's two giant rotors spun up to hover speed. A few sea gulls were swept up in the powerful wind from the bottom of the craft and flung across the parking lot, much like the dove that sat on Gene's helipad. The Troopers at battle stations and heavily armed, the assault vessel departed for the other end of the tunnel in Copenhagen.

  Down below, Isabelle and Ralf had reached the main track. Their train passed over a switch and merged out of the side tunnel back into the main tube, towards the Danish side of the bay. Not far behind in the tunnel, Tasha roared along the track in the truck she had commandeered. She saw the train coming out from the secret tunnel and knew Isabelle had escaped from the farm. Her foot was pushing the accelerator into the floor board. Tasha's blood-lust governed her thoughts.

  Isabelle was unaware that her persistent pursuer was back on the trail. Her immediate attention was on Ralf and his injured ankle. Her German friend was still seated in the barstool-height seat to the left of her. His face was in a grimace as he pulled his work boot of the offending foot. Isabelle took her hands off the train's controls and pulled a first-aid kit off the cab's wall. She removed an ice pack and snapped the capsule inside to set off the endothermic reaction that would chill the contents of the little plastic pouch. Isabelle placed the ice pack on Ralf's swollen foot. She looked up at him and realized he was shivering cold.

  Isabelle took the cold pack away quickly and smiling, she commented, "Just try to use the other one for football for a while."

  Ralf's wimpy grimace turned into a grin. "Thanks, that's great advise."

  Isabelle rose up from his foot. Their eyes reflected each other's smiles. Isabelle had found an attraction to Ralf from the moment she met him. She was flattered by his admiration. The way he selflessly helped her was a very appealing quality to her. Now he was sitting there like a winged bird, needing her help. He was so genuinely honest and innocent compared to many she had met in Los Angeles. "Nice, just a bit wimpy," thought Isabelle, still staring deep into Ralf's steel-blue eyes. His blonde hair looked like that of a surfer who had just come ashore. Isabelle's primal emotions were guiding her actions that were to follow, taking her intellect away from her mission. Isabelle gave in to the temptation before her and drew Ralf into a long passionate kiss. For the first time since her troubles began, she felt the isolation Tasha had imposed to be non-existent. A warm feeling radiated from Isabelle's solar plexus throughout her body. Their kiss was long and deep. Ralf's shivering torso was pressed against Isabelle.

  Her lips pulled away from his to say, "Let's get you out of these soggy clothes."

  Moments later, Ralf's shirt slapped onto the cab's floor. The kiss that followed seemed to have brought some heat to Ralf as his shaking became unnoticeable. Isabelle put some of her weight on Ralf's shoulders, pushing him gently off the seat and onto the bare metal floor of the locomotive. Passion ruled the moment. Suddenly, the two young bodies were thrust towards the front of the cab. The train's brakes had applied full force, as they brought the huge mass of metal to an abrupt halt. Isabelle had failed to tap the dead-man's switch. This was a device installed in locomotives designed to stop a train in case the operator becomes unable to periodically depress its button in the command console.

  This was the kind of moment on which Tasha's success relied heavily. She had been speeding along behind the train, closing the gap between her and her prey. Tasha slammed on her brakes and stopped short of the train. Her work truck came to a halt just behind the last rail car. Ready to kill, Tasha jumped out and ran towards the train stopped in front of her.

  As if Isabelle suddenly sensed the threat Tasha’s presence was posing, she tore herself away from the passion which had drawn her into Ralf's arms.

  "We have to go!"

  This wasn't easy for her to say as the reptilian part of her brain, responsible for primal emotions, wrestled with the mammalian portion, which governed higher brain functions and intellect. Ralf's intellect, the cerebrum, was unwillingly taking back control from the primal desires of his cerebellum. A vital detail was pushing its way into his consciousness.

  "The track is open to traffic!"

  Isabelle's right hand slammed down on the dead-man's switch while her left hand reset the throttle to the maximum position. Since the train had gotten so light without its questionable cargo, it pulled forward in an abrupt start. Behind them in the train tube, Tasha’s hand was reaching to climb aboard the flatbed car when it pulled away. The train sped away too fast for her to catch, so she rushed back to her truck that was idling on the tracks and jumped in. Tasha stomped her foot down on the gas pedal. The cab's door slammed shut from the rubber-burning departure that filled the tunnel behind her with thick smoke. Tasha's body and mind had prepared for a battle to the death. The hormones coursing in her veins at that moment kept Tasha flooded with the need to fight. Nothing was going to keep her from the payoff, nothing. What she failed to consider in her blood-lust, was the fact that other traffic was on the track. At the tunnel entrance on the island behind her, the passenger train zoomed past Tasha's Troopers and descended into the tube towards the ocean floor. Attempts by Tasha’s sentries to warn her failed, since their radio transmissions were unable to penetrate the tunnel past the bend. Tasha's trusty clip-on phone was out of service range. Gene had made sure that the passageway to his secret farm would provide a no-man's land where public communications would not reach. The tunnel was one of only three major structures in the developed world where cell phone service was not provided. Most people were too busy with their daily lives to question such unmotivated deviations from the norm. Tasha's eyes were focused on the freight train in front of her. It was on a rapid ascent from the ocean floor. Inside the cab, Isabelle and Ralf were wet and cold. Ralf, whose shirt was still off, reached for his blue gym bag.

  "I think I have something a bit more dry for you," he said and pulled out a bright-yellow, stretchy motorcycle suit.

  Isabelle looked at it. "What about you? You're freezing."

  "Don't worry about me, I keep a regular change for after work." He found another towel and a change in the bag. "Sorry, no dressing room. We'll have to get changed right here."

  Ralf thought at least he'd get a chance to see her naked and hoped the moment would reignite the fire that was smothered just moments ago. His anticipation turned into disappoint
ment when he saw Isabelle moving her index finger in a stirring motion. He recognized this to be the international gesture for turning around. Ralf faced the back of the train and dried himself off before getting into his fresh clothes. For a few beats of their hearts, the two were back to back, stark naked. Isabelle kept tapping the dead-man's switch periodically while getting changed so there'd be no further interruptions. Isabelle and Ralf both felt the energy that filled the cockpit. It had been quite some time since Isabelle felt such sincerity as she did from Ralf, and now his naked body was an arm's length from hers. The temptation of her carnal desires was strong. All she had to do was turn around, but that, her intellect was telling her, would put an end to the quest for the truth. Isabelle had dried off and was busy putting on nothing but Ralf's one-piece. She could hear the sound of Ralf sliding into his pant legs, and there it was: the sound of a zipper closing. She pulled the elastic top over her torso. The fabric was thickly padded but very elastic and molded itself to every contour of her athletic body. She turned her head and saw Ralf looking over his shoulder. He was wearing a grey sweat shirt and some fairly tight blue-jeans that made Isabelle cognizant of what she had missed.

  "I see one size really does fit all," said Ralf and his jaw almost dropped to the floor when he saw Isabelle fill his suit so very nicely. It looked like painted on, he knew what he had missed. It was the threat of losing their lives that kept them from giving in to their desires. Isabelle thought some small-talk would be best to disperse the tension.

  "So why the motorcycle suit?"

  "Because of the bike." Still distracted by Isabelle's sight, Ralf pointed to the back of the train where a factory-new street racer stood strapped down as the only remaining cargo on a row of flatbed rail cars. He explained, "Picked it up at the port. I'm taking it home to Berlin."

  The two had reached the tunnel opening and darted into the daylight. On the bridge of the clandestine hydrofoil, the Sea Captain was determined to finish what Tasha had continuously botched. Tasha's procedures were entirely too tame for him. The sharks would be a simple solution for Isabelle. The bearded old skipper had his binoculars trained on the tunnel exit and saw the speeding locomotive emerge from below like a great whale coming up for air. Like a whale hunter who spotted his prey, he was going in for the kill.

  "Helmsman! Full speed ahead. The terrorist on that hijacked train cannot escape. Bring us alongside her."

  With a crisp "Aye! Aye!", the helmsman executed the order and set the ship's speed to full. Inside the hydrofoil's generator room, the quantum bubble's glow changed from bright yellow to a blinding blue-white color as it grew in size. Its power output rose to provide for the ship's increased demand. The surge of current brought the powerful rotors to their maximum speed, pumping a massive stream of air under the heavy craft. The two large wind generators in the aft pushed forward with the force of Ralf's freight train. The air expelled from the hover skirt moved so violently that water sprayed with the velocity of fire hoses around the ship's perimeter. Soon, the hovercraft thundered ashore in an area of the port that had been designed for neither landings nor travel. A couple of grazing snow bunnies failed to escape on time and became part of a hailstorm of plants, leaves, and the contents of several seaside garbage cans. A couple who was enjoying a romantic moment on the shoreline ran off just in time to avoid being run over.

  Isabelle and Ralf were speeding along on Danish mainland when they saw the Captain and Tasha's Troopers barreling alongside. Isabelle had enjoyed her time with Ralf. Her short encounter with him shook loose a few positive emotions. For a while there, she wasn't too concerned with her pursuer. The time had come, at least for the moment, to move on. "How would you feel if I delivered your bike to Berlin for you?" Ralf agreed to meet up with Isabelle in Berlin. He wanted to see her again and it was becoming apparent quickly that he wouldn't if she got caught by her foe. After a short good-bye that left them both longing for more, Isabelle climbed along the side of the locomotive and onto the first train car. Across from her, the Troopers on deck of the hovercraft were closing in. Isabelle quickly released the tie-down straps that were holding the yellow super bike in place. It was a motorcycle that looked fast just standing there. With one hand on the gas, Isabelle put the key into the ignition. She glanced across to the hovercraft where her eyes caught those of a Trooper standing by the railing. It was like looking into the eyes of a shark - an empty stare of death. Isabelle was reminded why she was fighting this battle. She whispered to herself "I love you, dad," and put the full-face helmet Ralf had given her on. She started the motorcycle's engine and took it racing down the length of the train till she reached the last of its cars. A strong wind was coming in from the ocean. Isabelle had to struggle against its gale force. She turned the bike around so she was facing the locomotive. With a roar of the engine, Isabelle threw the transmission into first gear and sped towards the front of the train. Second gear, third, the wind that had been whipping against her suddenly felt like it had completely stopped. Isabelle was traveling with the wind.

  An access road was snaking past the train tracks, this was her chance, but she would have to clear the eastbound track that ran between her and the roadway. A slight turn to the left, Isabelle had reached the edge of the car. She yanked the handlebar up towards herself and, as if the wind of the ocean was carrying her, Isabelle jumped off the train and landed safely on the small frontage road. The Sea Captain saw Isabelle's actions as a challenge, he was not going to be defeated like Tasha.

  "Let's show her how a man takes care of problems. Helmsman, reverse thrust. Get us on the other side of that train."

  The seaman at the ship's conn complied. The heavy craft dipped its nose towards the ground as it slowed abruptly. Ralf saw the Captain's move and slowed the train to block the hovercraft from Isabelle. The train had almost come to a stop. The mood was tense on the Sea Captain's bridge.

  "He's stopping the train. Full speed ahead! Get around the front of it."

  The unusual convoy was approaching the Copenhagen terminal complex which housed the sea port, train station and a brand-new indoor shopping mall. The helmsman’s eyes showed fear. "But sir, the station ahead."

  "What are you, chicken? Step aside, sailor!"

  The Sea Captain used his shoulder to push the helmsman aside. His left hand on the conn, his right hand pushed the throttle as far as the lever would go. It its storm of debris, the nose of the heavy ship lifted up and with tremendous force, the craft thrust forward. A trail of destruction continued to mark its path.

  By now, Tasha had surfaced from below the sea and was speeding towards the slowing train ahead of her. What she couldn't see in her rear-view mirrors was that the passenger train behind her was closing in on its way up from the ocean floor, expecting a clear track ahead.

  To protect Isabelle, Ralf threw his locomotive's speed control to maximum. The train once again matched the speed of the accelerating hovercraft, where the Sea Captain was not about to give up. He was determined to outrun Ralf once and for all, ignoring the ever-closer terminal complex that laid ahead. His narrow vision was on Isabelle who was riding along the access road, almost close enough to grab. "I'll get you," he muttered and turned his attention towards the direction of his travel. It was too late. He had reached the terminal complex's parking lot. Like a snowplow, the hovercraft was scooping parked cars in both directions. A tornado of bent metal, broken glass and luggage inundated the area. Loose items on the bridge became airborne from the rocky ride. The Sea Captain was dumbfounded. His pride as a warrior was at stake and his mind was desperately searching for a way to still catch Isabelle. He refused to accept defeat, especially to a woman, but there was no good way out of this for him. Finally, he reached for the throttle to stop the ship when a row of parked tour buses exploded on impact at the bow of the hovercraft. The bridge crew and Troopers on deck were knocked off their feet. With the throttle still at maximum, the enormous mass of metal forged ahead, nearing the shopping mall. The Sea Captain was bus
y regaining his bearings after crashing through the interactive map in the middle of the bridge.

  Without a clue about the looming disaster barreling towards them, inside the Copenhagen Solaris Shopping Center, hundreds of shoppers were busily spending their money on Apophis products. The mall was a four-story structure that prided itself on offering virtually anything to buy. It had been built by Apophis to eliminate local businesses by offering to sell their merchandise at 50% of the price local products were costing. The shopping center was celebrating its second anniversary, long after Copenhagen's last privately run store had closed forever.

  The logos of the shops in the mall all used some derivation of Apophis' sun-symbol. Although there were tens of thousands of products for sale, a sense of uniformity and blandness characterized the whole structure. To entice children to nag their parents about mall visits, the central plaza featured a roller coaster that reached the four stories of shops under a glass dome. A sign hanging at the ticket booth promised free rides to anyone who purchased a flu-shot from an adjacent booth. The coaster's train had gone up the initial incline and its lead car turned downward for a large drop. In the front seat, the only passenger was the man in the chicken suit, who had been peddling retina scans and flu shots on Michael's show.