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Date Posted: 05:19:02 05/13/11 Fri
Author: asiacheetah
Author Host/IP: ppp-71-128-195-9.dsl.sndg02.pacbell.net / 71.128.195.9
Subject: Chapter 14
In reply to: asiacheetah 's message, "The Recruit (working title) - Michael pre-LFN story" on 03:47:50 04/25/11 Mon

Chapter 14

Jurgen

Jurgen watched dispassionately from the balcony as Michael ran on the simulation machine. He was already at level 8 in difficulty, a level that even seasoned operatives have trouble with. Michael was blasting his way through it like he was on autopilot, efficiently taking down obstacles without breaking a stride on the conveyer belt.

It was still shocking to him how quickly Michael had absorbed the lessons and exceeded everyone’s already high expectations. He was on track to not only complete his training early, but a promotion as well. Physically and intellectually, Michael was adapting to Section exceedingly well. He wasn’t as sure how Michael was adapting to life inside Section emotionally.

Michael was adapting slowly to Section life. He was closed up tight, an emotional cipher, not letting his guard down with anyone. The only cracks in that impenetrable armor seemed to be a fellow recruit named Adam, and two of his trainers Dusty and Smitty. Not that he would truly let his guard down around them, but he seemed more relaxed and ready to talk.

It was these instances where Michael lets his guard down that Jurgen have to work on preventing. You don’t survive in Section by putting trust in people. The sooner Michael learns that, the more likely he’ll survive his training and past the first year as an active operative.

His thoughts went back a few weeks ago when he ordered Michael to cancel a captive. He had originally recommended it in order to see what Michael was fully capable of. He remembered what he told Elsbeth during his recommendation.

*****

Elsbeth’s stare had bore deep into his eyes, warning him against lying. In the months since he transferred to Section 8, he had learned that Madeline’s counterpart could be every bit as perceptive and deadly as she. While he had yet to determine whether Elsbeth’s methods were as ruthless or diabolical, he dealt with her enough to know it would be foolish to attempt to trick her.

“Jurgen, you have recommended that Michael participate in cancellation orders. Do you believe he can handle it psychologically?”

“Michael will either adapt or self destruct. It is better than you find out what he’s fully capable now then to continue investing time on him.”

“Yes, but if we gamble too early before fully preparing him, we would lose a promising recruit.”

“There’s no way to fully prepare someone to kill another person in cold blood. I stand by my recommendation to find out now if Michael will carry out a direct order.”

After getting the green light, it was just a matter of finding the perfect captive for this test. Jurgen knew better than to find someone Michael actually knew, but he wanted to make the captive’s background similar enough to Michael that he might hesitate. He found the perfect candidate and briefed Michael.

“Michael, we want you to cancel a captive we have no further use for. He is a lower tier Bright Storm operative. Bright Storm is a terrorist organization who uses bombings of large civilian targets as a way to promote their goal to take down established governments.”

Jurgen had expected questions or some sort of protest from Michael. Instead all he asked calmly was: “What method would you prefer?”

The total lack of emotion or inner struggle threw him off balance. He realized how unprepared he was to deal with this one of a kind recruit. Masking his shock he replied with as little emotion as possible: “You decide.”

Michael merely nodded before going to Munitions to check out a pistol and ammunition. Jurgen stopped him before he entered containment. “Why did you choose this method?”

“It’s the quickest and most efficient.”

There was no arguing with that assessment and he moved aside to allow Michael to enter. A few seconds later the muffled sound of a single gunshot rang out. Michael returned to the hallway looking completely normal, seemingly unaffected by what he just had to do. Jurgen was certainly fearful that Michael had completely turned into a Section killing machine and automaton.

Needing assurance, Jurgen looked closely into Michael’s eyes. Over the last few months Michael had been working hard to mask his thoughts from being betrayed by his overly expressive eyes. For the most part he has been successful, but sometimes during times of high stress or due to physical exhaustion, those shields would drop. Michael’s eyes were blank at first, chilling Jurgen to the core. The longer he met Michael’s gaze, the more he notice Michael struggling to maintain that blank mask. Michael couldn’t hide everything he was feeling completely and Jurgen instinctively knew that he was feeling the impact of taking a life deeply.

He quickly dismissed Michael and watched him calmly walk away. Every slow and measured step showed how tightly wound and controlled he was, and betraying the inner turmoil more loudly than if he voiced them.

*****

He didn’t have to test Michael again with another cancellation order when a dry mission run went bad. He heard about it second hand and reviewed the mission tapes later. Twelve recruits and 4 operatives went in for a data retrieval practice. They wound up losing 2 operatives and 6 more wounded including Michael.

It could have been a lot worse though without quick thinking on Michael’s part. His team’s retreat point was cut off and his team leader had been taken down leaving only untried, terrified recruits. Michael had attacked with a single-minded ferociousness, with complete disregard for his own safety. Those terrorists didn’t stand a chance as Michael dispatched them, not even slowed down by his own injuries. He covered the retreat of his team without incurring further loses. The other team wasn’t as lucky and sustained heavier loses before the back-up team could arrive.

Thankfully Michael’s injury wasn’t life threatening and didn’t take long to recover. Jurgen was more than concerned when he reviewed the mission tape, he was livid. He had marched into med lab and grabbed the bandage on Michael injured leg and snarled: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Other than a slight wince, Michael had not betrayed any pain and replied calmly: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that stunt you pulled. If you want to die so badly, why don’t you just save us all the trouble and put a bullet in your brain?”

“I wasn’t trying to die.”

“Going down in a hail of bullets also counts as a suicide attempt.”

Michael calmly repeated: “I wasn’t trying to die.”

“How long do you think you’ll last engaging targets like that?”

Michael just stared at him coolly before replying: “With my luck, for a very long time.”

Jurgen finally let go of his grip on Michael and noticed fresh blood staining the white bandage. “I’m sorry.”

Michael nodded in acceptance. Jurgen flagged down a medic and left quickly.

*****

Jurgen’s reverie was broken by a beeping sound that signaled the completion of the simulation. He called for Michael to stop and allowed him a break while he reviewed the training results. As usual Michael score was nearly perfect even at this advanced level. Jurgen’s eye brows shot up when he noticed that Michael had made some leaps in conclusion that allowed him to complete the simulation even quicker than it was originally designed.

“Michael, why did you shoot the driver?”

“He was a hostile.”

“How did you know that?”

“It had to be someone on the grid. Everyone else cleared.”

“So you made an indirect conclusion?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Go hit the shower.”

*****

Michael

He was trying to keep his breath even as he ran at top speed on the conveyer belt, identifying and taking down enemy combatants in the training simulation. His lungs were burning and the muscles in his legs were threatening to cramp up. He blocked off those physical discomforts and concentrated on the simulation. After what seemed like an eternity a beeping sound alerted him to the end of the exercise and Jurgen called for a break. He walked with unsteady legs to the bench and forced himself to slowly sip from the water bottle instead of gulping it down.

His newly healed bullet wounds were burning unpleasantly. They were a reminder of another training exercise that had turned out way too real. It had been his second time outside of Section and the first dry mission run. He remembered the ride to the target location in the mission van.

*****

The inside of the van was cramped, packed with so many recruits practically sitting on top of one another. It was hard to avoid bumping into others as the van lurched down an uneven road. A particularly hard bump jostled all of them and Adam, who was sitting next to him, almost ended up sitting on his lap.

“Whoa! Sorry man. I promise I’m not trying to give you a lap dance.”

A few fellow recruits laughed at Adam’s remark, while others uneasy around Michael waited for his response. “If you are, you should pay me for having to endure it.”

Adam’s eyes widened at that and broke down into big belly laughs. Michael smiled slightly at the sight as others joined in laughter.

One of the operatives who were training them on this dry mission barked out: “Silence! A mission is no time to
crack jokes and fool around!”

The laughter died and they waited in silence until reaching the mission site. Once the van lurched to a stop, they unloaded quickly and broke off into two teams. The mission was going smoothly as planned as they penetrated the outer perimeter defenses and proceeded to second mark. Suddenly distant gunfire could be heard and the Comm connection crackled to life.

“Abort. Mission Intel flawed. Proceed to exit point.”

There was a sense of urgency and panic as the recruits scrambled toward the exit. Gunfire erupted and the exit was suddenly cut off as six armed man blocked their path. Their team leader went down with a bullet wound to the neck, spraying bright red arterial blood as he collapsed. Several more recruits cried out as they too were hit by bullets as the armed men opened fire.

Michael ducked behind a structural column and watched as a bullet caught Adam in the shoulder, whipping him backwards before he collapsed on the ground. Something shifted into place inside him, cutting off all thoughts except to the immediate vicinity. He was hyper aware of his surrounding, cataloguing each sound and movement.

He could hear the metallic scrap as an enemy combatant ejected a clip to reload. He stepped out from behind the column and took out the target immediately. He shifted his gun swiftly and took out two more before stepping back behind the column as they shot at his direction.

He somersaulted and changed position, shooting as he ran behind a crate. While the targets tried to track him, he changed position again, moving ever closer to their line of fire. Hearing the remaining three targets reloading, he stepped out into the open and shot them.

Scanning the room, he clinically identified no further threat to the team. He went to where Adam had fallen and was relieved to see him alive and struggling to sit up. He helped him stand up as he contacted tactical oversight. “Area secured, 2 operatives down.”

Kendo’s voice crackled to live over their receiver: “Get to your exit point.”

He helped Adam walk as two other recruits took hold of the downed operative to drag him back to the van. It wasn’t until he was back to the van when he felt burning sensations in his arm and leg. Michael had just finished putting a field dressing on Adam’s wound when he pointed out the blood staining the pants.

“You got hit! Yo Clive! Help Michael with his wounds will you?”

The recruit came over to help dress his wounds. He quietly said: “Thanks for saving my life, Michael.”

He was surprised by Clive’s gratitude. He hadn’t thought about his action as anything other than survival. “You don’t have to thank me. I was just trying to get out there alive.”

“All I know is we would have died in that room if you hadn’t taken them out. Thank you.”

Another recruit chimed in: “Yeah, thank you.”

He looked around the van and saw smiles and people nodding. Adam clasped his uninjured hand on his shoulder: “Yeah Mike. We would all be dead meat if it wasn’t for you.”

For once, Adam face was completely serious with earnest gratitude shining in his face.

“If you want to thank me, don’t ever call me Mike again.”
Adam blinked a few times and then smirked: “Okay, Mikey.”

“Next time we’re under enemy fire, I’m going to let them shoot you full of holes.”

For the second time that night, laughter ran out in the van. The laughter died out as they realized that the operatives when had reprimanded them the first time, were now dead.

*****

Michael pulled his focus back as Jurgen approached him.

“Michael, why did you shoot the driver?”

“He was a hostile.”

“How did you know that?”

“It had to be someone on the grid. Everyone else cleared.”

“So you made an indirect conclusion?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Go hit the shower.”

Michael walked toward the locker room, exchanging nods and greetings to a few recruits along the way. He noticed a change in attitude toward him since the failed mission. Whereas before he was greeted with indifference, distain, or derision; now he was met with cautious friendliness and even respect. He was as uncomfortable with their regard as he was with their previous contempt.

The locker room was blissfully empty, and Michael was grateful for the time alone. As lonely as he normally feels, he was never really truly alone inside Section. He was surrounded by other recruits, trainers, and operatives at all time. It was exhausting being always on guard, and he had to be especially careful around Jurgen who seems to always see through any smoke screen or subterfuge.

After the failed mission, he was greeted with praise and accolades from his trainers and fellow recruits. From everyone except Jurgen. He remembered the confrontation in the med lab after returning to Section.

*****

Michael had declined the pain killers offered by the doctors for a local anesthetic. He had been on pain medication in the past and he did not like the lack of lucidity caused by them. Being anything but clear headed inside Section is a sure way to get killed. That didn’t make the throbbing pain in his leg any easier to bear.

He looked when Jurgen entered, his permanent scowl set even deeper than usual and his eyes flashing with rage. Jurgen marched right up to the bed and grab the bandaged wound in a tight grip. He gritted through his teeth: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

It was hard to concentrate past the burning of pain from his reopened wound. Knowing any reply with be used against him as a weapon, he replied as vaguely as possible, just as Jurgen had taught him: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that stunt you pulled. If you want to die so badly, why don’t you just save us all the trouble and put a bullet in your brain?”

“I wasn’t trying to die.”

“Going down in a hail of bullets also counts as a suicide attempt.”

He remembered his reaction to the enemy ambush. He remembered the clarity of the moment, how all extraneous worries and thoughts left until his mind only focused on the mission at hand and all the parameter surrounding it. Thoughts of suicide or sacrificing himself had simply never registered in his mind. He calmly repeated: “I wasn’t trying to die.”

“How long do you think you’ll last engaging targets like that?”

“With my luck, for a very long time.”

Jurgen finally let go of his grip and released him. The blood circulating back to the leg just brought more excruciating pain.

“I’m sorry.”

Jurgen looked awkwardly at him before hailing a nurse and left. Other than a few psychological profile training sessions, he had mostly left him alone to recuperate. It also left him with too much time to think. It was his first chance to register that he had taken the lives of 6 people. It was shocking how little remorse he felt at taking their lives. He remembered the very first lesson Jurgen taught him

“Here’s your first lesson: every time you kill someone, I want you to think about those left behind to grieve for them. It doesn’t matter if it’s the worst human being in the world, someone at one point must have loved them. I want you to think about the grief of that person left behind and take it inside yourself.”

“Why?”

“To ground you, to prevent you from turning into a
machine, it will humanize you.”

For the first time he realized the value of this lesson. If he feels so disconnected now after only killing for the second time inside Section, how will he feel after doing this for years. This was a far cry from his very first kill.

*****

Jurgen had called Michael into Level 2 outside of a containment cell. He had no idea why he would be called down to that level. When he heard what they were ordering him to do, it was hard to keep from getting sick.

“Michael, we want you to cancel a captive we have no further use for. He is a lower tier Bright Storm operative. Bright Storm is a terrorist organization who uses bombings of large civilian targets as a way to promote their goal to take down established governments.”

He understood immediately why Jurgen was requiring him to kill this particular target. Jurgen wanted him to identify with the target with their shared interest and methods. Knowing that any protest would be used against him he asked the most innocuous question he could think of: “What method would you prefer?”

“You decide.”

He checked out a pistol and ammunition and returned in front of the containment room. Before he could enter Jurgen stopped him and asked: “Why did you choose this method?”

“It’s the quickest and most efficient.”

Jurgen merely nodded and let him through. The captive showed obvious signs of torture, and had bruised eyes against a pale face that reflected terror. He met the captive’s gaze coldly, challenging the man to feel the slightest remorse for the death and destruction he had caused. He was disgusted when he saw the man piss his pants in fear. The man had been willing to kill countless innocents for his beliefs, but wasn’t even brave enough to face the consequences of his action.

Michael raised the gun and pulled the trigger and shot him in the heart. He felt numb as he saw the blood spread in a dark circle around his heart, slowly staining a path down the captive’s shirt. He felt frozen as he opened the door and walked outside to meet Jurgen’s stare.

Jurgen was watching him with intense scrutiny, cataloguing every emotion that might slip out. He worked on keeping his face blank and his feeling shielded. It was hard to concentrate on doing as the numbness fade away and the knowledge that he had just taken a life start to register.
Whatever was slipping through his armor seemed to reassure Jurgen as his intense scowl eased. Thankfully he let him go without further comments. Michael worked to keep his pace steady instead of running to the nearest restroom and emptying the entire content of his stomach.

He thought he had more time to prepare, to cold bloodedly taking the life of another person. He didn’t think he would react this way; after all he had caused the death of so many people in that one bomb. However, building a bomb and activating it remotely didn’t have the same impact as personally pulling the trigger. The first seemed impersonal, separate from reality, while this was all too real. He felt like a part of him was slowly dying inside.

He made it back to his quarter without ever quickening his stride. Once inside, he could stay still as he paced from one end to another. Finally he went into the restroom to look in the mirror to see if any of the changes he was feeling inside reflected on the exterior. One look at the haunted expression in his eyes, he threw up violently until there was nothing left, only the hollowed shell of a man.

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