Training Days

by Joan De La Haye

  I have to admit I wasn’t all that interested in speaking, or too worried about crashing, I was probably going to die soon anyway so there wasn’t much point in worrying about it. So I stared out the window and watched the snow covered forest speed past beneath us. The sun glinted off the snow making it twinkle. It looked like the trees were covered in millions of diamonds. It was probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  The ride was over too quickly. The landing skids touched down on the helicopter pad that had been swept clear of snow. A Gulfstream jet waited for us on the tarmac a short distance away. Mounds of snow stood between us and the jet.

  Fuck! It was freezing cold and my legs got sucked into the snow drifts.

  Snow is pretty to look at, but having to actually walk through a lot of it is a whole other story. I do not like snow. In fact I fucking hate that shit. It looks all light and fluffy but it’s not. By the time we’d made it to the jet we were all soaking wet to our thighs and shivering. The sun might have been shining but the air temperature was still below zero and don’t even get me started on the wind factor.

  Von Zimmer’s mood had plummeted even further. He looked about ready to murder the handful of ground crew who lined up at the stairs leading up to the jet’s cabin hatch. They all looked frozen and scared. Our chopper pilot shook his head at them as he made his way past, walking up the stairs. I guessed he was also the Gulfstream’s pilot. Maybe Von Zimmer did trust him after all.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the head of the ground crew said while trying to stand at attention and keep warm at the same time. “We did not have enough time to clear a pathway. We had just enough time to clear the runway and the helipad. We felt they were the most important. I am sorry. Most of the crew is also snowed in and were unable to make it to the airfield in time. We tried our best in the amount of time that we had. Please don’t fire me.”

  Von Zimmer looked at each of the faces of the shivering ground crew in turn. They all tried to meet his gaze but were struggling. I don’t know if it was because of fear or that they were too damn frozen. I honestly didn’t care what Von Zimmer was going to do to them I only wanted to get on the plane and out of the cold. Don’t get me wrong. I felt bad for the poor fuckers, but I needed to get somewhere warm. I couldn’t feel my nose or toes at that point.

  I think the cold must also have been getting to Von Zimmer, because he finally spoke.

  “Ist schon gut.” He nodded. “Please go back inside. Get warm. We will be taking off soon.”

  The gratitude and relief was evident on all their faces as they scampered back towards the warmth of the small airport terminal where they probably had coffee or hot chocolate waiting for them. Lucky bastards.

  The metal steps leading up towards the Gulfstream’s cabin were slippery with ice and I slipped a couple times. The bruises on my shins from stumbling added to my misery, but once inside, the plane was warm and the cabin crew waited for us with mugs of steaming hot coffee. As I sipped it, I realised it was spiked with brandy. The brew warmed my frozen body all the way down to my numb toes.

  The interior was wood and leather. The seats were warm and comfortable; they even reclined completely without disturbing the other passengers. I could get used to the whole luxury travel and lifestyle thing.

  Olga and Doctor Mannheim sat towards the back of the cabin talking in German, and in hushed tones. Olga blushed and giggled like a teenager. Von Zimmer sat on his own reading documents on his tablet. Sunil sat next to me. His long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him. He tried to appear relaxed but when the engine started he gripped the arms of his seat, which turned his knuckles white.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I hate flying,” he said.

  “You seemed okay in the chopper.”

  “You wouldn’t have noticed. You were too busy looking out the window,” he said with a smile.

  “True.” I smiled back. It felt good to smile, to have a normal conversation, and not to worry where the next sword thrust was coming from. Sunil closed his eyes and gripped the arms of his seat even harder as we hurtled down the runway. Unlike Sunil, I loved flying. I laughed while Sunil grimaced as we took off. He only seemed to calm down once we’d reached cruising altitude.

  “I’m sorry,” Sunil said after a drawn out silence. He examined his highly polished black army boots, clearly uncomfortable discussing whatever he was about to.

  “Why are you sorry?” I asked.

  “We didn’t have enough time and you’re not ready for what you’re about to see and deal with. It was my responsibility to train you, but there simply wasn’t enough time.” He shook his head. His voice was laced with regret and frustration.

  For once in my life I shut up and let the man talk.

  “I don’t think you’re going to have to fight or run this time. Von Zimmer says it’s merely a dispute settlement between two other Patrons. We only have to be in attendance, but old rivalries run deep. I don’t know what any of us are going to have to face over the next couple days. It could be nothing, but since the event on the island—Elena’s loss and your victory—things have become a little volatile,” Sunil said, choosing his words carefully. “Von Zimmer says that everything is fine, but I can tell he’s nervous and he’s never nervous. So...” he paused. “No matter what happens or what anybody tells you, I want you to stay as close to me as possible. Do you understand?” He stared at my face making sure that I comprehended his words.

  “I understand,” I choked the words out.

  A million questions stormed through my mind.

  “Champagne?” a hostess in a tight navy blue uniform asked before I could ask anything.

  Sunil handed me a glass but didn’t take one himself.

  “Nothing for me,” he said.

  The hostess nodded and disappeared.

  “You don’t drink?” I asked instead of the other far more lifesaving questions I should have asked.

  “It’s not that. I would prefer to keep a clear head right now.” He smiled, reclined his seat and closed his eyes. Signalling that the conversation was over and my chance of getting answers was gone with it.

  “Bugger,” I groaned.

  Sunil grinned as he settled more comfortably in his seat with his eyes still closed. The bastard was enjoying my frustration.

  I sipped my champagne, munched on what was left of my pastries, and tried to reconcile myself to the notion that I would just have to wait till we got to whichever frozen wilderness they’d chosen for their little gathering.

  10

  Sunil was snoring softly next to me and I’d only started to dose off when we began our descent. I kicked his leg to wake him up.

  “I thought you said it was a long flight,” I said.

  “I lied.” He grinned but didn’t open his eyes. His grin was starting to annoy me.

  “Where are we?” I asked as I peered out the window, searching for any kind of recognisable landmarks. There weren’t any. All I could see were mountains, a forest, and lots and lots of snow and ice.

  “Somewhere in Siberia.” He yawned without covering his mouth and stretched. “I hate this place. It’s the arse end of the world, and our host is a pig. He’s also another reason you want to keep as close to me as possible while we’re here.” He didn’t elaborate further.

  You know that expression when hell freezes over? Well...climbing down the stairs from the plane was pretty much like descending into a frozen hell, or at least my idea of it. The beauty I’d seen from the air had been replaced by heaps of brown slush that looked like someone had a really bad case of diarrhoea and the sewage had been pumped into the snow. Don’t even get me started on the smell. I was gagging the whole way down the stairs.

  “What is that smell?” I asked while trying to cover my mouth and nose with my scarf and jacket and pretty much anything I could find to keep the stench away from my olfactory senses.

  “It’s the tannery. Our host likes to keep things traditional out here,�
�� Sunil said through his own layers of protection. “I fucking hate this place,” he mumbled as he walked ahead of me.

  Von Zimmer strode ahead of us, his long coat flapping around his legs, and shook hands with a man who resembled a squat balding toad with sausages for lips. The moment the Toad’s head was turned Von Zimmer wiped his hand on his coat while keeping a gracious smile plastered on his thin lips.

  I followed closely behind Sunil. I had every intention of doing exactly as he instructed. Which, let’s be honest, is not exactly my usual way of doing things. But my instinct screamed at me that doing as he said was the smart play. And the one thing I do believe in is surviving.

  The Toad led us through what looked like an old factory which belonged in an era before the industrial revolution. The workers looked like miners or street urchins. It was a scene straight out of a Dickens novel. They were covered in filth and were so thin, they could have just escaped from a concentration camp. They watched us walk past with dead eyes. I understood why Sunil hated that place. I shared his sentiments.

  A convoy of black SUVs waited for us on the other side of the factory.

  “Why didn’t they get us at the plane?” I asked Sunil and pointed at the SUVs.

  “He likes to show off his factory and gets off on making his guests uncomfortable. He thinks it puts us at a disadvantage,” Sunil said with an edge to his voice.

  “Has he seen Von Zimmer’s castle?” I asked. “Does he really think that his pathetic, stinky, factory is impressive?”

  “It’s not about impressing us with the size of his factory or his wealth. It’s about subjecting us to the sight and smell. It’s about bringing us down to his level. This is where he came from. His parents worked in this factory. He didn’t inherit his wealth and power like our Patron and most of the others in the Organisation. He schemed and clawed and killed his way to his wealth and power. He’s now one of the most powerful men in the Organisation.”

  I wanted to ask Sunil more about our host but we’d reached the convoy and were no longer out of earshot of everyone else. Car doors were opened and we were herded by men with assault rifles and split between the different vehicles. I was separated from Sunil and only had Olga and Doctor Mannheim for company in the back of the third SUV, while Sunil was pushed in with Von Zimmer and our host.

  Sunil must have seen the panicked expression on my face. He tried to change vehicles but Von Zimmer stopped him.

  “She will be fine,” Von Zimmer said in a low voice. “I have greater need of you at this moment.”

  Sunil glanced at our toad-like host and nodded. They climbed into their SUV while I was pushed into mine. Olga and the Doctor were already comfortably seated inside. The heater was on full-blast. It was a reprieve from the Siberian winter. I sat next to Olga on the soft leather backseat while two soldiers with guns sat in the front.

  “Sorge dich nicht, Liebchen,” Olga said. “You are Runner and will be respected by all. I take good care of you. Life is not so bad for you now.” She struggled over every word, but I appreciated the effort she put into trying to speak English.

  Mannheim nodded and patted Olga’s hand with a gentle smile, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t convince me he completely agreed with Olga.

  “We are only here as witnesses. The Graff is an excellent strategist. The chances of you having to compete in any events in the near future are remote. You are not in any danger, Fräulein. All is well,” the Doctor said nodding some more. He took his glasses off and polished them before putting them back on.

  I sighed. As much as I wanted to relax I couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It could just have been nerves. Or the whole being in a strange place with people I didn’t know or trust, but all I wanted to do was escape. As I stared out the window I realised there was nowhere to run. We were surround by ice and mountains. I’d freeze to death before I got very far.

  In my experience, the more people feel the need to keep telling you that everything is going to be okay, they know it’s not going to be okay. And you really shouldn’t believe them. So despite what the Doctor and Olga said, I knew the shit was about to hit the fan and so did they.

  11

  If the tannery was hell then the Toad’s Dacha was a megalomaniac’s idea of heaven. When Sunil said that our host liked to keep things traditional, he wasn’t exaggerating. His team of house servants were all lined up outside his mansion, shivering and waiting to greet him as though he’d been gone for months and not just a couple of hours. His butlers all wore white gloves and the maids all had frilly white aprons over their short, tight, black uniforms. It was basically Downton Abby on steroids, set in Siberia with sexy housemaids who were probably going to get frostbite if they stood outside any longer.

  If it hadn’t been for the soldiers with guard dogs and rifles, I would have laughed at the Toad’s clear display of over compensation, but I didn’t think he was the sort of man who would take being laughed at lightly. He struck me as the sort of man who would set his dogs on me just for shits and giggles.

  Sunil, Mannheim, Olga, and I stood by the SUVs, flanking Von Zimmer and waited. The wind picked up and it started to snow. The maids and butlers stood to attention while trying to keep their shivering under control, even though their lips were turning blue. I wondered how many of them would end up with a nasty case of bronchitis or pneumonia. The Toad sauntered up and down inspecting each one in turn. His full length fur coat kept him warm.

  Fucking selfish bastard!

  I didn’t appreciate having to freeze my arse off while he traipsed around trying to prove what a man he was to Von Zimmer. My Patron, on the other hand, didn’t look too perturbed by any of it. He stood with his hands behind his back waiting impassively for the show to be over. He’d probably been through the performance before.

  After he’d finished his inspection of his servants, the Toad turned and eyeballed us with the same scrutiny he’d given his serfs. Having his eyes rove over me made me flinch.

  “This is the new victor from the island?” the Toad asked Von Zimmer in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. Von Zimmer only gave a curt nod in response.

  “I’d expected her to be more impressive by now. I think your doctor is getting lazy in his old age,” our host said as he turned his back on us.

  My mouth opened and closed like a guppy, and my fists clenched. I tried to take a step towards him, but Sunil gripped my hand and shook his head. Von Zimmer said nothing while Mannheim bristled, his face burned red.

  “There’ll be plenty of time to prove him wrong,” Sunil said under his breath. “But now is not the time.”

  “Come,” Von Zimmer said as he walked towards the Dacha. “They will only get out of the cold once we are inside.” He nodded at the Toad’s staff.

  Sunil released his grip on my hand and we hurried up the stairs, towards the entrance.

  I have to say those butlers move fast. By the time we’d made it through the door the Toad’s servants were taking our coats and picking up trays to hand us shots of vodka. There were roaring fires in every room. I didn’t even want to think about the carbon emissions coming from those chimneys.

  Once we’d downed our vodka and been relieved of our coats, we were ushered into a warm sitting room where coffee and snacks had been laid out for us. The room was far more tastefully decorated than I’d expected it to be. Our host clearly liked the finer things in life, but once again his tastes ran towards the traditional. There were antiques everywhere, even the furniture looked like it belonged in a museum. I was almost afraid to sit on any of the chairs.

  “Where is everyone else?” I asked Sunil in a whisper.

  “They will be joining soon,” the Toad said from behind me. I hadn’t seen him and was surprised he heard me. “You are the first to arrive. Typical German punctuality. I doubt your Patron has ever been late for an event,” he said to me, but I doubted he meant it as a compliment. “Please enjoy the refreshments while your rooms are prepared. Once
the other parties have arrived, the official festivities will begin.” He gave a curt bow to Von Zimmer, turned and left the room. The soft click of the lock after the doors were closed was a bit of a surprise.

  “Did he just lock us in here?” I asked no one in particular. I also didn’t really expect an answer.

  “It would appear that our host does not want us wandering the halls of his home and getting lost,” Von Zimmer said with a slight edge of sarcasm in his voice.

  “I wonder what he’s working on,” Sunil said to Von Zimmer. “And why take the risk over this bullshit dispute? What do you think he’s playing at?”

  “Those are all very good questions and ones we shall endeavour to discover the answers to, but not at this very second. For now we shall be content with terrible Russian coffee and the very good Beluga caviar,” Von Zimmer said while making his way over to the sideboard, poured himself a strong cup of coffee and popped a hors d’oeuvre in his mouth. “This caviar is particularly good.” He licked his lips and took a bite of another one. “Olga, you must find out who his supplier is.”

  “Ja, mein Herr,” Olga said as she examined the room and wiped some imaginary dust off a table while shaking her head. She was clearly not impressed with the Toad’s housekeeper.

  Doctor Mannheim sat on a couch in sullen silence. He reminded me of a dog who’d been kicked.

  “What’s with him?” I nudged Sunil with my elbow.

  “He’s sulking over what Kuznetsov said about him being lazy and that you weren’t up to scratch,” Sunil said as he sipped his coffee and pulled a face. “This coffee is shit.”