Terence Dutch walked through the dark rooms of his house absently checking the locks on the doors and windows. He did this unconsciously, with no thought of security on his mind. He was not afraid of any intruder with theft as their intent. In the lounge room, nestled comfortably between the lounge and a side table was Raven. A black and tan mass of fur and fury. Hidden in the dark recess the Doberman watched his master, raising his sleek head, wishing for no pat or scratch, Raven was on duty.
A growling, flea infested razorblade was one thing to an intruder but under the bed was a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun. The load designed to blow locks and hinges. In Dutch’s highly trained hands it was lethal. No, Terence Dutch feared no man after his possessions. He cared for little of it anyway, they were just items easily bought and replaced, and even the medals that marked a history fashioned in ribbon and steel were replaceable.
Dutch’s fears slept in the two bedrooms of his house, oblivious to his wanderings, to his thoughts and his memories.
In the dining room Dutch stood before the window, the curtains drawn open to the cold street beyond. Chill night air beckoned entrance at the glass. Dutch’s eyes sought the dark recesses of the nearby houses, peering for sign of movement, a telltale shadow. A red dot pierced the darkness and Dutch spun to it, head only, body rigid and tense. His neighbour smoked on his doorstep. Dutch watched as the end was discarded onto his lawn and the neighbour vanished into his house. He was not seen by the man, Dutch was trained not to be seen. The Special Air Service Regiment had seen to that. The training had been intense, even brutal. More than one recruit had not survived the twelve-week course. Only the strong survived the SAS. The meanest. Those who knew pride, honour, loyalty and plain common sense. Dutch shook his head free of those thoughts. It was gruelling but it had served him well. Mentally he shrugged; it didn’t matter, he had survived Charlie Tango and the rigours of the SAS training be damned.
He turned from the window and moved to the fridge, feeling a familiar tingle at the base of his neck and sudden fear. He reached for the handle…
…and heaved open the door to the battered M4 APC. The eighteen SAS troopers within stirred and made their way to the door. Dutch barked at them and they quickened their pace. As they passed he counted heads, twenty-four could fit in this vehicle. They had been forced to leave four behind. That was not the greater tragedy; the bodies could be retrieved tomorrow. Dutch disembarked, the last out, and looked towards the second M4. The one that carried the dead and wounded. Charlie Tango had ambushed his men well and taken out half of his unit including the captain.
Medics rushed to the APC and began to haul out the injured; the dead were bagged and laid out behind the vehicle. Corporal Jake Hollis took position beside his sergeant. Terence had known Jake for eight years, since they had joined the regiment. They had fought Charlie Tango for two year long tours now. Brothers could not be closer.
Both men watched the unloading, each looking for the same person amongst the nurses. She appeared from behind the vehicle with pad and stylus, marking off the names of the dead. She finished with the last and then looked up with relief. She examined the faces of the platoon nearby and smiled when she saw the face she loved alive and well.
“Jake.” She sighed, as she stepped closer. “Sorry, Corporal Hollis,” she corrected as Dutch frowned, it was not what he was frowning about. He said nothing, excused himself and walked off. The affection placed in the name of his friend was enough to tear his heart in two. He risked a glance behind and saw her dark eyes lost in the study of his face.
Dutch cursed to himself and then dismissed the platoon. He turned again and hated the sight as she held him. Jake had seen her first but Dutch had loved her at first sight. He had never been jealous of anyone for anything, but he was of Jake and Tylyn.
Overhead a drop boat descended, the engines whining loudly. An officer approached wanting a report. It would not be good to give. The officer yelled over the roaring engines…
… “Raven” The voice was no more than a whisper, just breath passing over lips. The dog responded though as if the command had been yelled. Ears up, eyes bright, senses alive. He came at a gesture to his masters’ heel. The gentle pats to the head unexpected but not unappreciated.
Dutch slid open the back door, hoping the chill air might lull his senses back to sleep and the Doberman followed him out. Raw wind buffeted them both but even though Dutch was barefoot and shirtless he stepped into the night undaunted.
No cars disturbed the quiet streets and thin fog shone in the orange streetlight. His breath crystallised in the chill. It was another sleepless night, how long already had passed?
Guilt possessed his mind and had taken control of his thoughts for the moment. For the night, he thought bitterly. Jake was in his head. His friend had been dead for the longest time now or so it felt and Dutch still carried around the guilt of his demise like a scar across his soul. Was it Jake’s death, he wondered not for the first time or his own actions afterwards? It was a question that was, at least for him, without answer. Dutch shook his head hard but the confusion remained.
The lawn was damp under his feet and by morning would be white with ice. The chill leeched the heat from his toes. He called to Raven and both moved inside, Raven returned to bed while his master turned...
…and blasted the Charlie Tango that was descending upon his position, the heavy shells ripped open the hard carapace of matted hair and tore open the soft organic belly of the beast. The alien made no sound, they never did, just a whoosh of escaping gas as a bladder under the armour burst.
Charlie Tango had entered the base under what was to be thought a forced reconnaissance unit. The suddenness of the strike was only off put by one of the creatures tripping a perimeter sensor out on the tree line. Even as Dutch and his platoon faced the tri-legged beasts the civilian population of the base and the hospital were extracted via large transport boats sent down by an orbiting carrier.
Without orders Dutch pulled his men off the wall to avoid a slaughter. He had never seen such numbers of the beasts. He retreated to the safety of the hospital walls and regrouped. Hollis joined him dragging a wounded soldier behind him; the injured man was passed to one of the few remaining hospital staff as Dutch reloaded.
A transport launched as another descended.
“That’s our boat!” Dutch said to Hollis. “We’re leaving. Hold here. One clip rapid fire and then launch grenades. Then we make for the roof. Spread the word.”
Hollis nodded and passed the orders down the line. The noise of the approaching alien’s spiked feet striking the hard tarmac grew closer. Dutch’s men waited for their sergeant’s order to fire and laid down a blanket of red tracer when it came. As Dutch’s rifle clicked empty he ordered the evacuation, Hollis and himself launched several grenades and then followed last. Dutch ushered his forces up the stairs to the launch pad, Hollis by his side pausing only long enough to fire on the C.T’s that had entered the hospital.
They took the stairs two at a time and arrived on the roof as the last of the wounded were being escorted on board. Tylyn rushed towards Jake, he hugged her quickly and then dashed her on board. Dutch pushed them forward as he ascended the ramp and said to the airman by the door.
“We’re the last. Let’s go.”
“No way” The airman barked back, “We’ve got empty seats. We stay until they’re full.”
Charlie Tango burst onto the roof and even as Dutch fired on the creature the airman raised the ramp and ordered dust off. Dutch found a seat next to Tylyn, he smiled through the grime on his face as the boat launched. Green plasma, launched from sites in the forest, streaked towards the boat as it lifted into the atmosphere. As strike aircraft rushed to neutralise the sites one boulder sized blast struck the rear tail assembly of the drop boat. The boat keeled violently to the port, the lights flickered and died as emergency shutoffs kicked in. Tylyn snatched up Dutch’s hand and clung to it, she screamed as the nose clipped treetops, alien wood screeched along the hull and then splintered and shattered with deafening cracks as boat descended. The pilot called out a clearing over the Comm. System and then the trees were gone and the dropship struck the ground. The vessel ploughed a furrow through the soft soil. Metal screamed in protest as a wing was torn clear. A fire flared, then died. The boat struck buried rocks flipped once and then landed on its belly.
Dutch coughed through choking dust and unbuckled his belt; next to him Tylyn did the same. Streaks of sunlight shone through a large split in the hull. At the rear the ramp had snapped free.
“Sergeant Horvath,” He yelled as Tylyn turned to Jake.
“Sarge,” came the disembodied reply.
Dutch could see the sergeant waving his arms to clear dust.
“Get these people out, Mike. Try to raise another boat.” Dutch spat blood.
Horvath saluted and started to usher the living out.
“Terry,” Tylyn’s voice was quiet, “Jake’s stuck.”
“Jake?”
“The chair in front has caught my leg. It’d be funny if it didn’t hurt like the clappers.”
Dutch pulled at the chair but it was stuck fast. An airman approached and whispered,
“Sergeant, both pilots are dead and there’s,” Dutch looked up. “Charlie Tango Sarge, out past the trees.”
Through the settling dust, Dutch could see the grey and black shapes of his enemy moving through the forest towards them. He swore and pushed Tylyn at the airman.
“Get her out of here.”
She protested as she was dragged away, kicking at the airman. Once she was gone Terry turned his attention back to the chair that pinned his friend.
“Terry, give it up. You can’t get me out of here.”
Dutch stared at Hollis’ pinned leg and then scrambled through the debris for his rifle. A dumb thought had entered his head.
“Not all of you, mate.”
Before Jake could protest Dutch raised and fired his rifle. The powerful shell hit the corporal just above the knee and blew his lower leg clean off. Hollis howled in agony as Dutch stemmed the bleeding with a can of medifoam, he then injected Jake with a shot of morphine and pulled him free of the wreckage. He slung him over his shoulder and raced from the crashed ship.
They followed the others, Dutch huffing with the exertion of carrying his friend. After they had travelled only a few hundred meters Jake made Dutch place him down.
“Good try, bud,” Jake panted through gritted teeth. “But I’m done for and you’re wounded. You can’t carry me any further.”
Dutch could feel the wound on his back now. It was bleeding freely and hurt like Hell but he wasn’t about to give up.
“I’m done for, man!” Jake yelled pushing him away as he tried to lift him again.
“You’re coming with me!” Dutch argued. He looked fearfully at the closing Charlie Tango’s and then back at Jake. “I can’t leave you.”
“Sure you can.” Jake’s voice was weaker and Dutch could see his friend dying before his eyes. He couldn’t leave him.
“No! You’re coming with me.”
Despite his condition Jake fought him off, snatching the pistol out of Dutch’s holster as he did. “Leave Terry, or I’ll kill you myself. Tylyn needs you.”
A thousand arguments came to his head, he didn’t say one. He clutched the side of Jake’s head, “Jake.” He held him close until he could hear the spiked feet of the CT’s on the hull of the boat. Tears blurred his vision as he spun around and blasted the closest CT.
“Jake, I love you, mate.”
“Not so hard to say is it?”
Dutch was running before he wanted to. He wanted to stay and fight. Side by side, like old times. He wanted to save his friend.
A figure was approaching, Tylyn, he intercepted her, tackling her around the waist.
“What are doing?” She screamed. “You left him. You left him.” She fought but his grip was firm.
From the boat came pistol fire. Man and woman, friend and lover both stopped and watched as one future died under the heel of an alien.
Tylyn wailed and collapsed to the ground, Dutch was firing even as disbelief over what he had done washed over him. A round hit exposed fuel and the boat exploded incinerating it, aliens and Jake. Burning Charlie Tango’s raced around and advancing Dutch blasted them. Pressure at his elbow spun him around.
“Don’t to it, Terry.” It was Tylyn. “Not you too!”
What was she saying? Was she…
…Sleeping well. The sheets pulled to her chin. Her red hair fanned out behind her tiny head. A battered bear clutched close. His daughter, snoring softly in her sleep. He smiled and moved with steady, stealthy footfalls out of the room.
He reclined on the lounge. In the kitchen the heater ticked out regular warmth, it sounded like Charlie Tango on the hull of the boat, a sound that haunted his sleep. Behind his eyes he saw the tri-legged species again, their mottled grey/black bodies and cybernetic weapon arms. No one had ever seen a species like them before or since. They didn’t even have a name just a designation. Where did they come from? How did they get to the planets they tried to inhabit? No mouth, no ears, no sex organs. No, he had never seen anything like them, but he hated them enough to go to war against them and now the war raged without him.
Alcohol beckoned and Dutch relented. One beer, a light. He got the drink and opened the…
…Mail slot and slid the letter in.
“Same girl, Sir?” Sergeant Horvath asked.
“Same girl” Dutch replied.
“It’s been two years, Sir. I don’t think she’s going to answer.”
“It doesn’t mean that I should stop.”
Horvath shrugged, Dutch was his superior now. A warrant officer and it was no business of Horvath’s what his Officer did in his spare time.
Dutch pulled a disk from a niche on the wall and huddled his platoon around a holo-table. He inserted the disk and a holographic image appeared and rotated slowly.
“Our home for the next three months.” He began his briefing. “Charlie Tango slipped past our security net a few weeks ago and landed near the pole,” the view changed to show the upper continent. “C.T. is here, just under the Arctic Circle. Pre scans show a humanoid populace at an equivalent Cro-Magnon stage. Try not to be seen by them if possible. If you are then eliminate and hide the body, same-same. Command has given us three months to take care of C.T. I want it done in one.”
Two hours later they were in the drop boats headed for the surface. Dutch thought of Tylyn, he always did at these times. Always there had been hope though. Today there was doubt. It had been two years since he had seen her, two years since Jake’s death. Rescue had come quick that day there were other boats all around the sky. Tylyn had been silent on the way up, inconsolable. It had torn his heart to see her like that. On the carrier soldiers were separated from the rest and the last he had seen of her had been her auburn hair disappearing in the crowd. It was hard to think of her as being gone. Was she still alive? Or even a nurse? The questions were endless and that bought the doubt and he didn’t need that. Not now.
A pilot stepped forward and handed him a data pad. It had the seal of an admiral he didn’t recognise. He activated the message: it was text only.
Terry.
Please come and see me when you can.
Tylyn.
An address followed that he quickly memorised. He erased the message and handed the pad back to the pilot.
“Two minutes, Sir.” The pilot said.
Dutch nodded. How had she managed to get the message through to a grunt on the ground?
“Charlie Tango has seen us, firing rockets.” The pilot announced.
“Lower the ramp,” Dutch turned to his platoon. “Get ready.”
The ramp opened…
…and he drank the beer in one long swallow. Time was passing quickly through the night. He had had many nights like this. But this one felt different. Tonight he felt that absolution was just around the corner. Was this the last time that he would walk a dark house searching for answers to long forgotten questions? He could only hope. Jake’s death had always chewed at his soul. He had questioned himself endlessly on whether he had done the right thing. Jake had been defenceless in the boat. Outside there had been a chance no matter how slim.
In the bedroom his wife stirred. Dutch went to the door and watched her sleep. He entered. She seemed so much smaller in the bed, no bigger than his daughter. She reached for him under the covers and sensing that he wasn’t there sat up. She saw him by the door…
“…Terry.”
She had scarcely changed in the years they had been apart. Her hair was a little longer though untouched by age. Her eyes still held the sparkle that he had known. She was beautiful.
“Hello, Tylyn.”
She flung herself into his arms and held him tightly. When she released him there were tears in her eyes, she brushed them away and his as well.
“Come in.” She led him to a modest dining room and he sat while she made coffee. A television played in the lounge room. They were both silent. Tylyn placed a steaming brew before him and sat opposite.
“I don’t remember the last time we sat quietly and had a drink together.” she said breaking the silence.
“Must have been before the attack on…” He did not want to bring up that memory.
“Why didn’t you just give up on me, Terry?” She asked the question out of the quiet they were hiding in.
“What do you mean?”
“After the way I treated you. Why did you continue to write all those letters?”
“Therapy,” he shrugged. “A means to keep sane. The thought of you reading those letters made me feel less guilty. I sought absolution in your eyes on paper. It was easier than seeing you.”
“I was unfair on you, Terry. I knew that you would never have left him behind, not without the best of reasons.”
“When Jake and I were in the boat,” God, it hurt to say this, “I thought that if I left him... I could go to you.”
Tylyn paused, sipped her coffee. “You pulled him free. Terry, I knew that you loved me. Jake did too. He always thought that the two of us were much better suited. Jake didn’t love me, Terry. Not the way that you do… did.” She corrected herself and then continued, watching him closely. “My biggest mistake, Terry was not answering your letters sooner. It was just that I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you both. I wanted to wait until you were out of the service, I couldn’t wait any longer though. I felt that if I didn’t respond you would never leave.” Tylyn fell silent.
Dutch stared into the brown liquid that filled his mug.
“I still love you, Tylyn.” He said. He couldn’t raise his head; there was a chain around his neck weighted with a brick, a big brick. “I could have come to you, but I did two more tours hoping foolishly that Charlie Tango would end my life and my worries. But in the boat…you don’t understand what happened in the boat.”
“Jake was stuck. You got him out.”
“I blew his leg off,” Terry snapped. “It was that which killed him. Charlie Tango was everywhere and coming fast. I thought I could run with him but he made me stop.”
“He would have been defenceless in the boat, he was stuck.”
“C.T. would have taken him prisoner and I’ve seen what they do them, so had Jake. Neither of us wanted that. I couldn’t leave him.”
“I still love him, Terry.” Dutch couldn’t look at her. “But I can’t love a ghost, not the way I can love a flesh and blood man. Not the way I can love you.” He still could not look at her, his head weighed a ton. “Fight your demons if you have to, Terry. But fight them with me. Don’t try to go it alone anymore. Prove to me with one act that you still love me: Stay.”.....
.......Terry sat on the bed next to Tylyn and gently ran his fingers through her hair. He had stayed and fought the demons that had haunted him for years. All the answers that he had looked for night after sleepless night were right before him, clothed in cotton pyjamas. He kissed her softly and she responded in kind. In the blink of an eye he saw a war-ravaged world, a destroyed boat and a dying friend. But there was none of those here: just cool sheets on an inviting bed and a young woman who loved him with all her heart. He held and kissed her, the passion between the two of them rising. All thoughts of the night, all the doubts faded as his world turned to one of pure sensation.
