Safe House

He crouched animal-like in the shadows, his body motionless except for the movement of his eyes as they scanned the inky blackness that surrounded him. Although he could barely see a few inches in any direction, his instinct, and his hearing, told him that he was alone in the little shed in which he had sought shelter. Further away, he could still hear the thunder of the many booted feet running in ceaseless pursuit of the intruder that had already escaped. Rough voices shouted out commands, followed occasionally with the cold metallic sound of automatic weapons, and above it all, the crack and spit of the fire that still raged in the main compound; Isaac hoped to god that his partner had managed to escape.

Moving cautiously in the little space within the shed, Isaac tried to take stock of his surroundings, his trained mind already running over his mission checklist. Once his partner had cut the power, Isaac had managed to make it to the main research labs unseen and had rigged the explosives as planned. It was only afterwards, outside the labs, that he had been seen by the guards, triggering the pursuit, the unscheduled early detonation and his flight to the shed at the edge of the compound that he and his partner had designated as the local ‘safe house’ in case of possible pursuit. So far so good; even though things hadn’t gone exactly as planned, they had managed to fulfill their main mission objective: to destroy the labs and all that was in them. There was only one problem: Isaac was still missing a partner.

‘Where the hell is he?’ he thought angrily, trying in vain to quiet the voice in his head telling him that his partner might have been killed or, worse, captured.
‘That baka! I told him to come here and wait for me as soon as his part of the mission was complete.’ Isaac sighed. ‘So much for following orders,’ he thought dryly. ‘Oh don’t worry about me Isaac-san ,’ Ryo had chirped, his eyes dancing as he smiled at the scowling Isaac who had been trying to run over the safety precautions one last time. ‘I don’t plan on dying on you anytime soon.’ But then, that was Ryo, always joking around, always finding everything around him funny. In the middle of a raging battle, Ryo would sing loudly (and out of tune, Isaac added mentally) over the intercom system, oblivious to Isaac’s anger and completely ignoring the acid commands of his superiors. ‘What’s all the fuss about,’ he would ask innocently when confronted. ‘Not like there’s much else for me to do all alone in my plane.’

If it wasn’t for his remarkable fighting skills and flawless record, Ryo would have been expelled from the war effort a long time ago. Though only 16, Ryo already had skills most couldn’t master in a lifetime. No one could defeat him in hand-to-hand combat and there wasn’t a better field agent in the entire European chapter of the war effort; no one, that is, except perhaps his partner.

Maybe it was their exceptional fighting skills and records that had managed to get them assigned to each other, or maybe it was the fact that they were both still under 18, they didn’t know. But assigned to each other they had been and for over a year they had worked together like a well oiled machine. They were the ones called for when a dangerous infiltration mission had to be carried out, or when a tricky deception had to be affected. They were the ones in the heat of the battle, in the eye of the storm as it were, in any aerial attack, and the last ones to leave the battlefield, never to be captured.

‘Till now,’ the thought sparked momentarily in Isaac’s mind, making him shift uneasily. His ears strained for any sound that might tell him what had become of his partner but there was nothing new to be heard. The darkness in the shed seemed to shift and sigh, muting the sounds from the world outside, and suffocating him with its invisible fingers.  The search outside seemed to have waned and there was relative silence beyond the confines of the ‘safe house’. Either they had given up the search or- ‘they found who they were looking for,’ Isaac thought grimly. He didn’t know what he would do exactly if Ryo had been captured, since the situation hadn’t ever arisen before. He had, of course, been trained for it.

‘This is a war and no matter how much you may try to prevent it or deny it, there will always be causalities,’ the old words echoed in Isaac’s mind. ‘You, our agents, are important to us, but know this: the mission is more important. That is the only truth. Complete the mission; achieve your objectives, even if it means sacrificing your lives for the purpose. Many will die in this war, and many will survive, but what will matter in the end is what we managed to achieve. The ideals that we are seeking to enforce; the society that we are trying to create, that is the ultimate reality, the ultimate goal. Everything else is secondary. And the perfect soldier is one who knows this and follows it to the letter. He never lets personal issues cloud his better judgment and he never gives anything up to the enemy, not even himself. Death is better than imprisonment, better than the enemy gaining knowledge of our Organization through you. Remember that, always remember that. And of course, the unspoken but understood rule: those that got captured became expendable, liabilities to be terminated.

Isaac knew all of this, but he refused to dwell on the old instructions, the old beliefs. He had always tried to personify the perfect soldier, believing in all of its requisites. He had believed that when the time came, when the situation called for it, he too would be able to terminate anything and anyone that stood in the way of the success of the mission. But that had been long ago, before the war began, before the blood began to flow and before he had had to kill for the first time. ‘Only 17 and already a killer,’ he thought bitterly, recalling the words said to him once long ago, recalling the sad eyes of the one who had said them.

Isaac had lost his bright-eyed belief in the Organization after he’d seen the initial massacres, the countless bodies strewn in the streets of captured towns. What was it that they were all fighting for, dying for? Freedom? Justice? Wasn’t that what the Organization had promised them all? He didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care. He did what he did because it was the only way of life he knew. And the bitter truth was that once you had killed, once you had seen the utter destruction of war, there was no returning to normal life. And for those like Isaac and Ryo, recruited from orphanages at ages as young as 14, this was the only life they had ever known, ever lived. For them, there was no normal life to return to.

Trying to shake the old bitterness from his mind, Isaac once again tried to concentrate on the situation at hand. “Dwelling on the past won’t help me save Ryo,” he chided himself. Choice or no choice, he was here now and the only thing to do was try and escape_ hopefully with his partner in tow. “How I got here might not have been my choice but how I get out sure as hell will be.” In the end, there were only two possibilities: Ryo had escaped or he hadn’t, it was as simple as that. There had been a time when the perfect soldier within Isaac would not have flinched at planning his captured partner’s termination. The mission would have taken precedent over all else. But he had seen what the ‘mission’ could do. He would much rather save his friend, someone who mattered more to him then the entire organization and all of its plans put together. Ironic how ones priorities could shift for the people one truly loved. Isaac’s soft chuckle died as soon as it left his lips, swallowed whole by the nothingness around him. He shifted restlessly, trying to see something, anything in the gloom around him. How long had he been cooped up in this little room, how long had he been waiting? Isaac didn’t know. The windowless room had starting feeling too much like a detention cell for his comfort and all-consuming darkness wasn’t helping much either. Trying desperately to ward of the claustrophobia he knew would numb him if he let it, Isaac reverted back to worrying about his friend. ‘One worry at a time,’ He thought wryly. But the more he tried to concentrate on anything other then the feeling of suffocation, the more the darkness seemed to close in around him, smothering him in its soft arms, whispering to him that his friend was dead and that he was alone.

         Trying without success to ignore the voices in his head, Isaac at first didn’t even pay attention to the sounds he had been listening for all along: the muffled sound of footsteps outside. Jarred back to reality by the intruding sounds, Isaac quickly positioned himself under the work table at one end of the room, his eyes focused in the direction where the door should be. Adrenaline coursed through his system, his muscles tensing automatically for the attack he knew would come. But through all of this, a part of him still hoped that it would be Ryo who would come scurrying through the doorway, safe and unharmed, rather than guards come to drag him off to death or worse. “And here I was, always telling Ryo that his optimism would kill him one day.” 

Trying to force all random thoughts from his mind, Isaac focused all his senses on the sound outside. Was it one set of feet he heard or was it more? Was it even footsteps or just his imagination? Isaac couldn’t be sure.
The mission is what matters, always remember that. That is the only truth.
He shook his head, trying to clear his senses, trying to shake off the echoes of the old instructions still reverberating through his mind.
You, our agents, are important, but the mission is more important.
Footsteps, definitely footsteps outside, but Isaac still couldn’t figure out how many or in which direction.
Don’t worry about me Isaac-san; I don’t plan on dying on you anytime soon.
Were the sounds getting closer or was it just an echo? Isaac clenched his teeth in frustration, silently willing himself to concentrate harder.
The perfect soldier never gives anything up to the enemy, not even himself.
One set of footsteps, he was sure of it. But Isaac refused to let himself hope for the best: it could still be a guard making the rounds. But one thing was for sure: the footsteps were coming in his direction and getting closer every passing second. A cold sweat broke out over Isaac’s body, making him shiver in the chill air. Bits and pieces of the old instructions ran rampart through his mind, clouding his senses, suffocating him.
The perfect soldier, always be the perfect soldier.
The deafening beating of his heart filled his ears, drowning out the sounds he was straining to concentrate on. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, stinging as they dripped down into his eyes.
Complete the mission; achieve your objectives, even if it means sacrificing your lives for the purpose.
Isaac wiped at the sweat dripping into his eyes, using a clammy hand to brush aside the stray strands that stuck to his forehead. The echoes outside had stopped, and in the silence that followed, Isaac heard the sound he had been hoping for and dreading since the start of his vigil in the shed: the sound of the doorknob turning. As Isaac prepared himself for battle, the voices in his head seemed to reach a fevered pitch, the various phrases and words running together till they lost their coherence and simply merged into the rapid beating of his heart.
The mission is what matters, always remember that. That is the only truth.
Don’t worry about me Isaac-san; I don’t plan on dying on you anytime soon.
The perfect soldier, always be the perfect soldier.
Just 17 and already a killer.
Head spinning, Isaac refrained himself from the urge to cover his ears, trying desperately to induce the calmer frame of mind he needed if he was to survive. The door began to slide open, light spilling into the room, cutting through the darkness like a knife through butter and momentarily blinding the boy on the floor. Instinctively, he threw up his hands to shield his eyes. And as the person outside advanced into the room, the voices in Isaac’s head halted abruptly, leaving only silence in their wake. The moment seemed to freeze frame through the room, time having lost all meaning. Eons seemed to pass as Isaac crouched there, blinded by the light, unable to see who stood in the doorway, when in reality it could not have been more then a few seconds. Isaac steeled himself for the bullets he half expected to fly at him at any moment, while at the same time silently preparing himself to attack: He’d be damned if he was going to give up without a fight.  ‘Liberty or death,’ he thought sarcastically, an ironic smile playing upon his face as he raised his head, ready to meet the eye of the one who would grant him one or the other.