A Very Successful Operation

Future War Story

1

Even from a distance of nine kilometres, D Facility seemed four miles high. The scope of steel and concrete could be estimated by the lack of sky behind it and the by the little lights dotted atop the tower like flickering candles.

Coral glassed the structure through stolen Regime-issue binoculars.

'There's actually less personel on the night shift than we thought,' she said, her violet hair flowing in the cold October wind.

She passed the binoculars over to her second in command. Ricky focused through the scopes.

'There's at least nine on the roof...' he squinted one eye, '...six on foot.'

They both looked pleased with their examination of the scene. Scott Kroobi, however, was riddled with panic. He had only joined the Opposition six months ago and this was his first raid on a Regime facility. And what an introduction to the conflict it was!

To penetrate a high priority Removal Centre was punishable by execution.

Yet here he was, glad, proud even, of being assigned suche a drastic endeavour after only basic training.

'Newbie, have a look,' said Ricky, blinking hard from the magnification. Kroobi took the binoculars and set his sight across the darkened fields, toward the Removal Centre.

The figures he observed seemed even more ominous in the cloudshade of night. He could not make out faces but he recognised rifles hanging on their backs; it sent chills through his flesh. Many had died before on just such missions but he tried to counter this by telling himself that many had also succeeded. Well, a few.

When he handed the scopes back over, both Coral and Ricky held coy expressions.

'You'll be alright mate,' said the team leader, her voice too stern to be reassuring. Ricky handed him a roley.

'And if you don't,' he said, 'none of us will.'
The higher ranking member grinned, albeit uneasily.

'Right,' said Coral, turning in her crouched position to face the rest of the group, 'we're leaving in five minutes. Get your s**t together.'

2

With only a crescent moon to light his way, Kroobi almost fell a few times down the hillside; the others were so well-adjusted they seemed to glide above the grass. When all the team had made it safely to a treeline roughly fifty metres from the perimeter of the facilty, they broke into three groups of two. Each had their independent routes and objectives.

Kroobi was Ricky's burden on this one, in case the inexperienced newcomer made some naive maneuver.

As the six watched the routine movements of the soldiers, a heavy silence filled the air, thicker than the fog around them. After what seemed like an age to Kroobi, Coral gave the signal and all three teams set off in separate directons, their footfalls quick and silent.

Kroobi's heart was slamming against his chest. Ricky was faster than he looked and Kroobi, in his haste to keep up, almost staggered to the dirt. His eyes were darting desperately to the now towering building to check the attention of the guards. He saw nobody.

Finally they reached the base of the building. Panting, Ricky whispered, 'you'll need to be faster than that.'

He was actually smirking.

Kroobi thought, this mad b*****d is enjoying himself.

Ricky murmured closely, 'remember, two lefts and a right.'

Before Kroobi could reply, Ricky was off around the corner, his long strides more fitting to an Olympic demonstration than a military assault. But on this occassion., Kroobi was ready.

By the time they reached west entrance they were essentially side by side and Ricky nodded his approval when they stopped. He checked his watch.

'Seventy six seconds,' he whispered, 'if the f****r is punctual.'

Kroobi went to speak but his mouth wouldn't work; he was overcome with a compound of fear and excitement. He looked wild. Seconds were stretched into minutes til they heard the barely audible drone of voices behind the steel door.

'Yeah, right mate...' one of them was saying, '...see your in the morning, fuckhead.'

Ricky had the tranq-gun poised. The steel door clicked. A face emerged sidelong, but Ricky and Kroobi were at such an angle that they remained unnoticed. The heavy door closed with a loud crack. Now, three men stood in the cold, dark silence.

The guard turned in the opposite direction and only took three shirt steps before a soft hiss pierced the quiet, night air.

Ricky, surprising Kroobi yet again with his agility, caught the falling man before the body touched the turf. Kroobi followed and grabbed the unconscious guard's legs. They carried him to the wall, set him down and, crouching, listened.

The encounter seemed to have gone unnotice which meant the second team had successfully scrambled the security cameras with the EMP.
Ricky searched through the guards blue-black uniform and retrieved the passkey. Now things would get interesting.

Although, as they would find out soon enough, interesting was far too mild a word.

3

The passkey worked. The bright-lit corridor was empty. Ricky put a finger to his lips, as if it was actually necessary. All three teams were to meet at the finalising chamber; thankfully that was on the ground level, easy to ship the finished products straight out.

Ricky and Kroobi crept soundlessly down the wide walkway, studying each door with strained breath. Any door could open, at any time, and one or more armed guards could appear. And the ammunition in their weapons would do more than just make you to sleep for a few hours: they'd put you under forever.

They made it to the end of the corridor without incident and Kroobi was received beyond belief when he saw a familiar face poke out from behind the corner.

Coral pointed toward a set of double-doors set in a enclave. There was no sign of team three. Ricky highlighted this by aiming his watch at Coral and pointing down at it. Coral in turn, looking extremely concerned, shrugged her shoulders. Her light blue eyes were fiercer than ever, as if intensified by the adrenaline. She went to gesture again but all Hell broke loose.

Kroobi was the first to spot him and, surprising himself despite what he'd convinced his inner being, reacted instantly.

The tranquilising dart went soaring through the air in a trajectory of fatal improbability.

4

The atmosphere in the camp was just short of hysterical. It would've been a full blown frenzy only for the vicinity of a nearby town. Voices where loud but any yelling was cut short by a quick glance from Coral. When she eventually got the thirty or so men and women under control Kroobi cringed internally at what he assumed was to be a lecture of epic proportions. Or worse.

Instead, she began with congratulations.

'I know we're missing two of our companions, but let me say that if it wasn't for N...Kroobi's quick reflexes, there'd be a lot less of us here.'

None clapped but most sent respectful glances Kroobi's way. Very few among the seasoned infantry had actually taken a life and even fewer wanted to.

'Now,' she sucked in a lungful of air, but most of it was mixed with the smoke from the central logfire, and she let it out quickly.

'Well get Jay and Darren back.'

Someone at the back of the semi-circle tutted.
Coral ignored this. 'But we'll have to act fast.'

'How do you suppose we do this?' somebody asked.

Coral bit her bottom lip, a nervous tick totally unlike her. 'I haven't cleared this with the Heads yet,' she said, 'but I think we should go back as soon as we can, before they take them to London.'

There was stunned silence.

Ricky, eyeing the small fire a few feet in from of him, said, 'they'll never expect us to go back. They must think we're still reeling from what happened. But, as we all know, we're crazy enough to do it.'

'Yeah,' called an older man, very close to Ricky's face. 'And stupid enough. I was f*****g there Ricky, and so were you...' he waited, glaring. 'Up In Glasgow......we were f*****g slaughtered.'

'Well learn from our mistakes,' said Coral, loudly.

The same man said, 'and what if the Heads don't want to risk it?'

Coral and Ricky exchanged uneasy glances.
They had already made their decision.

5

That night, Kroobi slept little or not at all: he could not even tell. When he closed his eyes the images were so distorted it could have been a nightmare. The books he read and movies he watched regarding the state of the perpetrators mind, post killing, was lightyears away from reality.

Instead of recalling every detail of the event (the face of the victim, the scent in the air,) there was actually a blurred, nearly nonlinear sequence of actions and emotions. He could remember the terror he felt when he saw the guard click down on the communication device, and the sensation of the tranq-gun as it relinquished it's load of sedatives...but that was all.

During the long, uncertain night, Fionna, one of the data coordinators, arrived alongside his sleeping bag to ask if he was alright. In truth, Kroobi had had a crush on her since he had joined the Manchester Batallion and was glad for the company.

They smoked a joint together and soon after, she made a move on him. It was in no way delicate considering his current mental condition, but that's not why he declined her advance in such a drastic and uncharacteristic way; he slapped her because he thought this cute, mousy woman who he had imagined so pure was actually sexually envigoured by the the fact he had brutally murdered someone - and it was still murder in kroobi's heart, anyway - and this realization sent his already unhinged mind into the abyss.

Without a word, she went skulking back to her sleeping bag and dropped herself down facing away.

Kroobi sat motionless for awhile then burst into concealed squeeks of laughter, tears of torment falling freely from his lids.

6

Coral noticed his altered demeanor the next morning and this, coupled by her witnessing the incident the night before, made her realize the new guy needed a break, even if it was only into town for supplies.

After a short cold wash in the basin Kroobi met up with Ricky who, now shaved and dressed in clean tweed, looked half-normal and twice younger.

'To town and back,' he said in that rough tone where you didn't know if he was angry or not.
Soon they were on their way.

Bury town centre, which fifty years previously had been bustling with hipsters and college kids, was now aflitter with soldeirs and domestic producers. Since the civil war, nearly all industry had been focused on produce of any kind, like one big farm and slaughterhouse. Even the air was thick with the heady aromas of s**t, piss, fear and blood.

'Straight to the market,'said Ricky, mostly to himself.

They had to to buy some plastic boarding for their tranq-gun needles so the journey would be quick.

At the plastics counter in the indoor market, Ricky was too bus haggling with the the cashier to overhear the two old men talking.

But Kroobi listened.

'No, no...you can't be that stupid.,' said one of them dryly. 'How can you even think that?'

The other seemed embarrassed. The first went on. '

'It makes them better soldiers, more capable. Look, if you remove their empathy, you remove their guilt. And a soldier with no conscience is the ultimate killer. Before, like in the MidEast War, the army had to rely on sensational violence and basic survival instincts to guarantee loyalty. It goes on for so long and people's best mates on both sides are killed which leads to infinite reprisals, but now...the soldiers don't need to revenge that friend who had his legs or face blown off. Now they do it out of a complete lack of remorse.'

'Don't you think they ever get it back...the feeling that they-'

'Right,' said Ricky, passing over three of the long plastic sheets 'Let's get the f**k out if here.'

Halfway through the forest, Kroobi said, between huffs of exhaustion, 'you know the soldiers in the Removal centres?'

'What about them?' said Ricky, out of breath.

Kroobi kept his gaze on the grass. 'Do you ever think they get their empathy back?'

Ricky shook his head but his eyes looked like he'd asked himself the same question.

'What would be the point? After doing the s**t they've done they'd probably off themselves with guilt, and anyway...it's not even possible.'

'Why not?'

'You'll have to ask Fionna. She's the brain box when it comes to all this.'

He shook his head.

'Although after what happened last night you two probably won't be talking for awhile. '

F**k sake, thought Kroobi, everybody knows.

He pretended to ignore the slight, said, 'but they still have logic; they must know what they're doing is wrong.'

Ricky laughed and almost dropped the pelucid sheets.

'People still have to be told the right from the wrong when they're older than both of us combined,' he said. 'And we're no spring chickens.'

'If everybody's being told right from wrong then who's doing the telling?'

'In this day and age,' said ricky, shooting a serious sidelong glance, 'our great dictator...if he's even still around.'

'Don't start that s**t,' said Kroobi, cringing.

'I'm not in the mood for any conspiracies.'

'Fair enough, fair enough. Just tell me why nobody has seen him in public for three years.'

Kroobi could only shake his head at this.

'Well,' he said eventually, 'when we get Darren and Jay back he'll have to come out of hiding.'

Ricky smiled, put the plastic sheets in the crook of his arm, and slapped Kroobi on the back.

7

When the two finally reached the camp there was no sign of any one. The logfire had been stoked. Alarmed and without a single word between them they began a frantic search of the area. Soon it was clear that the group had got spooked by something and retreated to the Beta Site. It was towards there they began to sprint.

Thankfully, Coral and the others were there to greet them. She rose from her position, the enormous silhouette of D Facility behind her a lumped back.

'We have to move now,' she said to Ricky.

'Activity?' he said, kneeling down beside her.

'Lots,' she said, 'Beth reported two personell carriers arrived half an hour ago, and another one in the last ten minutes. They're definitely transporting our lads today.'

'Right, what's the plan.'

They hurried through the procedure in a matter of minutes. Kroobi was shocked by the swiftness of it all, considering they were all putting their lives at risk. But they all understood that the transport could take place at any moment.

When the details had been finalised the group, now six and all, set off.

With such increased security, there was really only one way by which entry was possible, so two of the group took the only two working guns and departed for the rear entrance. It was their job to distract as many guards as possible so that the remaining four could gain entry via the side-door.

The vanguard vanished around a cluster of sycamores and Kroobi found himself quickly enveloped in tension. This time, though, there was an underlying strength rising within him. That determination, or what he believed to be determination at the time, seemed to turn his nerves to stone, his mind a single focused eye. Even the large long-range tranq-gun felt far lighter.

This is where I'm meant to be, he thought, this is my destiny, my path, my True Will.

They crouched there in the dirt, waiting for the first shots to ring out, ready to run. Images of their detained companions leaped through their minds; fuel for the cause.

Three quick pops cut the air.

'Go!' roared Coral.

They split into two teams, Kroobi again sprinting alongside Ricky, but now easily keeping up.

They made it halfway to the building when the side door opened and several guards came crashing out. From out of the corner of his eye, Kroobi saw the treeline transform.

An entire regiment, previously concealed, advanced. The rooftops became a fuzz of helmets and gunbarrels.

And just like that, the Opposition's great historical rescue attempt was well and truly thwarted.

8

'At least it's clean,' said Ricky, 'I had images in my head of a dripping dungeon. How long do you think we're here for?'

'It depends on whether they decide to do the interrogations here or in london,' said Coral.

She was the only one who had yet to sit down in the six hours since they'd been captured. She was, Kroobi had to admit, manic at times. He even caught her whispering to herself a couple of times.

'Just try,' she said, 'to hold out as long as she you can.'

They all sat there staring at the pristine concrete walls in mutual defeat. Finally, a member of the team whose name Kroobi could not remember, said, 'we'll be remembered at least,' and broke into a sob.

When the door eventually opened, two guards and an older man who looked like a professor and could very well have been, stepped into the doorway, a glistening e-sheet in his hairy hand.

'Which one of you is Scott Kroobi?'

At the mention of his own name, Kroobi got slow tingles if terror in his extremities.

Weakly, he said, 'me.'

'This way please.'

Pacing slowly in a way that only dead men can, he moved forward.
To his companions he said, 'see you...wherever.'

Nobody replied.

For there was simply nothing to say.

8

In the dim lit room, various monitors glowed with phosphorus light, illuminating the small windowless room One machine took precedence at the centre. The armed guards left, much to kroobi's surprise. With nothing left to lose he could easily overpower theb older interrogator, if he so chose.

'You're wondering why the guards left?'

Kroobi was visibly shaking all over; he could not respond.

'Well get to that' said the man. 'But for now...see that device there? It's called an empathometer, do u recognize it?'

Kroobi slowly shook his head.

The interrogator guffawed. 'Amazing,' he said, as if astonished by kroobi's ignorance of the complicated technology.

'It's used to extract the brainwave frequencies responsible for the high vibration commonly known as empathy...you have no recollection of it?'

Kroobi stared.

The interrogators eyes narrowed, his face darkening, 'its time we did some catching up...Mr prime minister.'

Not long after, the captured Opposition were executed and Dieter Ackergill, codename Scott Kroobi, had not only had his temporary empathy removed but also the plastic surgery reversed. The operation had been a success by any standards. It would be celebrated for over six decades.

END

Kealan Coady October 2017