Terror on Arrival: An Apocalyptic Science Fiction Novel

The liaison woke Jayde at three pm. They were going to travel at six, not around, or about. The Soviets were very punctual. She was refreshed. Earlier, during her Soviet orientation, the cloud of fatigue hung on her like an iron cloak.

She squared away her billet area. It felt as if she were a VIP. There just weren’t any female Special Forces soldiers populating the area. She didn’t know if they were on maneuvers, or just weren’t. The Russian military felt very different.

She jumped in the shower. The warm water caressed her body. She was alert and relaxed at the same time. She felt pleasant, at that moment. This would be a day she would relish at a later date. Humans weren’t able to harness every aspect of time at that point. That was why they used the phrase ‘If I knew then what I know now’. Humans don’t, though the Cheasu have mastered that circuitous ability. Jayde subconsciously put herself in the paradox of wanting that endowment for now, later.

She had hoped Alexi studied up on Belize. It was critical to her mission for him to know locations and customs, so he could fit in well with the native Hondurans. She had to quiz him before they left.

Was he a bit more compliant the second time we met? she thought. Not knowing her perfume made him sign a mental treaty of peace, she was inadvertently breaking down his defenses.

Once she got out of the shower, she got dressed in her service dress uniform. She changed from slacks to a skirt. She had rows of medals placed on the left side of her chest. They glimmered majestically in the barracks light. They showed everyone her experience. They even looked intimidating to the uninformed. She was proud of herself.

She adjusted herself in her mirror. She saw a professional, independent, knowledgeable officer looking back at her.

She sat her equipment near the door, and walked to the common area. Her liaison was sitting at her desk.

Jayde walked to her desk.

“Privet Sergeant Igntyav, would you know the location of Sergeant Doshmononov?” Jayde asked.

“Sergeant Doshmononov is in the physical training area, Lieutenant Farrow,” Igntyav told her. “I will escort you there.”

“If you don’t need to drive there, I can get there on my own, but you can help me with where it is in the building,” Jayde said.

“Go upstairs to the second floor, and take a left. Go until you can smell the sweat. It’s the double doors at the end of the hall, Lieutenant,” Igntyav directed her.

“Spacibo Sergeant, do svidaniya,” Jayde expressed a thank you, and good bye.

Jayde walked down the hall, up the stairs, and towards the double doors. She was going to quiz Alexi on Belize. He should’ve been studying longer than working out. He should’ve gotten his knowledge on instead of his sweat on.

She opened the double doors. Alexi was lifting weights with his back to her. She saw the sweat traipsing down his alabaster skin. She saw his taught muscles excelling while curling around 140 kilograms—300 pounds. His breathing was steady, and his lifting was relentless.

Alexi saw her marveling at his back through the mirrored wall in front of him.

“Is there an order you wish for me to perform for you, Lieutenant Farrow?” Alexi asked the preoccupied Jayde.

Jayde had forgotten why she was there! Alexi’s muscular frame scratched her mind. Her record had skipped.

She quickly got back on task. “Sergeant Doshmononov, have you studied my report?”

“I went over it twice,” Alexi said, as he kept curling the bar as if he was picking up a single roll of paper towel. “When I came across your report on the pirates, it told me to pump for my job.”

“That’s commendable, Sergeant. It took me two years to write that report, and you finished it by early afternoon?” she asked.

“It takes longer to imagine, write, and record a song, than it takes to listen to it,” Alexi said, while still curling. “I know Belize, try me.”

“Okay genius, we’ll start off easy. Where is Belize?” she asked.

“It is a country located on the north eastern coast of Central America,” Alexi rattled off, without missing a curl. “That was Romper Room. Give me a real question.”

Jayde thought anyone that skimmed the first page of her report could’ve pegged that question. He answered if he even read it. Now it was time to get deeper.

“Bravo Professor, you read the introduction. Let’s just see how far you read,” she said. “Belize was a colony to which country?”

Alexi wanted to stun her. He not only answered her question, he began an oral dissertation. “Belize became a colony of the British Empire after the Battle of Saint George Caye. It was a short skirmish that started September third of 1798. On the tenth, the Spanish Armada tried to take Belize by force, only to be repelled by the British. The Battle of Saint George Caye has been a Belize holiday ever since.”

Jayde thought, I guess he did read. That information was in the depths of my report.

“I have a question for you, Lieutenant,” Alexi said, with his sweat absorbing into the leather of his weight belt. “The reef we are going to investigate is called the Belize Barrier Reef. The Great Barrier Reef is off the coast of Australia. Why are you confusing reefs?”

“The reason I call it the Great Barrier Reef, is because it’s the first reef I’ve explored, and it’s massive, and the great Charles Darwin once said it was the greatest reef in the West Indies. I understand your confusion. You Soviets are too precise for my nick-names. I’ll call it the Belize Barrier Reef from now on,” she apologized.

“I just needed your explanation, Lieutenant. Since it makes sense, I can assimilate your reason. Call it whatever you wish,” Alexi said.

“And if it didn’t make sense?” Jayde asked.

“Begging your pardon, Lieutenant,” Alexi started. “You are a woman. Women do not make sense, and men just adjust. I just needed to know where we sat. Since you did make sense, there is no sense in digging myself a deeper hole. So, shutting up would be my best option.”

As brash as he was, he explained with directness. She couldn’t fault him for that. She decided to change the subject.

“We have around two and a half hours before we depart. Will you be ready?” she asked.

“I have never missed a mission pinpoint. You could wrap me in duct tape five minutes before departure, and I will still be ready,” Alexi touted.

“That’s enlightening to know, He-Man. I think taking a shower would suffice for this operation,” she said, with snark.

“At your command, Lieutenant,” Alexi said, as he accented his statement by dropping his weights to the floor. They bounced on the mat once to stress their heaviness.

“O-okay, I’ll see you in the front of the commandant’s office at 1730 hours.” She tried to keep composure, although she witnessed Alexi’s prowess.

As she closed the door, and left him, Alexi grabbed his water bottle and towel. He began wiping his forehead, and thought, the girl is smart. I can see why she is a lieutenant. She can train me on the scientific things, while I can train her on how to pull a pirate’s spine out through his nostrils. We will work together fine.

Jayde walked back to her quarters. She had gotten hot and bothered. Not from the trek from the physical training room, she jogged ten miles a day, normally. It was from Alexi’s sweaty torso gleaming in the sunlight.

Jayde was an independent woman. She never got, or didn’t want, any special favors to get to her position from any man. She was proud to be in total control of her destiny. Then how was a man making her lose it?

She closed her door, and began to breathe normally. “Come on girl, keep it together. He’s so white, you can see him at night!”

That was her father crawling in her mind. Jayde wasn’t brought up in the midst of the Civil Rights Movement. She didn’t care if he was purple. Those purple pecs of his would still be sexy.

What am I thinking? He hates me! I don’t even know why, but affection for me is not in his repertoire! she thought.

She walked back to the liaison. “Sergeant Igntyav, where would a computer with online capabilities happen to be?”

“Our resource room is in the opposite direction of the physical training area. That is upstairs, turn right, and it is the third door on the left side of the hallway,” Igntyav directed Jayde. “I take it you do not need any assistance?”

“The legs are still operational, Sergeant,” Jayde joked. “Don’t worry, Svetlana, your liaison skills are commendable.”

“Spacibo, Lieutenant,” Igntyav obliged.

“You are very welcome, Sergeant,” Jayde said.

She went back upstairs, and found the resource room. That was where she found some Spetsnaz women. They were studying for a NATO/Warsaw Pact recognition test. They had to know who used what fighter jet.

Jayde didn’t want to bother them. Learning the difference between a Falcon and a Foxbat was tough enough.

They all looked up at her when she walked into the room. They were surprised to see a new, different looking woman officer enter the resource room.

“Don’t mind me, soldiers,” she held up her hand. “My name is Lieutenant Farrow, with the United States Air Force. I just need an open terminal. I’ll be out of your hair, momentarily.”

This was a rare opportunity for the female Spetsnaz. They had never met an American. Especially not one who worked intimately with NATO aircraft. Lieutenant Farrow was the ‘gift horse’.

One of the women stood at attention, and saluted Jayde. “Sergeant Zherdev, Lieutenant Farrow. Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but could you identify some of these NATO aircraft pozhaluysta (please)?”

Jayde, oddly, felt like a rock star. She was not only pleased to see more than one other woman on the base, she didn’t mind signing some autographs.

“I am an Air Force lieutenant, Sergeant Zherdev. I can identify every non-classified North Atlantic Treaty Organization aircraft.” Jayde was happy to jog her knowledge.

“Spacibo Lieutenant.” Zherdev turned her LCD screen to Jayde. “Would you happen to know the names of these aircraft?”

Jayde saw a slew of NATO aircraft. They were gridded on her screen. This was going to be a piece of cake for her.

She pointed at the jet at the top left of the screen. “That’s an F-18 Hornet,” she began, then pointed to the next ones in the row. “An A-6 Intruder, an F-15 Eagle, A Saab 35 Draken, an SR-71 Blackbird, how old are these files?”

That was when Jayde saw the copyright on the side of the pictures. “1988!? The F-117 Nighthawk wasn’t even active then!”

“We have seen a stealth fighter, Lieutenant, we just don’t have one in our files,” Zherdev said.

Jayde was disgusted with the lack of general knowledge the Soviets administered to females. She looked to the next computer.

“Is this terminal open?” she asked.

“That one is available, Lieutenant,” Zherdev said.

Jayde moved to the open computer, adjacent Zherdev’s. She logged on, and tapped to a NATO website.

“I feel it is time you ladies were updated,” Jayde announced. “This site will show you all non-classified NATO aircraft, from the A-4 Skyhawk, to the YF-23 Black Widow, prevetstvenneyy.” Jayde felt knowledge equality should be gender neutral.

All the women crowded around the terminal. They were incredibly grateful—they acquired their ringer for their exam.

Zherdev looked up at Jayde. “Spacibo, Lieutenant. Those terminals are free for you.”

“Sticking up for my fellow female soldiers is mandatory in my book. Sergeant,” Jayde said.

Since the women were satisfied with educating themselves on what every man knew as a Spetsnaz soldier, Jayde was free to do what she came here for, in the first place.

She logged on to a Belize website to check the forecast for the week. It was sunny and around 85 degrees. It was everything, weather-wise, a paradise had... everything.

She looked at the world weather map, and saw a hurricane disruption off the coast of Namibia, Africa. It was heading towards Belize!

This will be a new experience for the Arctic Warrior. He’s been cold before, but never wind-whipped and drenched, she thought.

She got her information, and helped her fellow women. It was almost time to leave the peculiarity of Kiev, to go straight into the tropical unconventionality of Belize. At least that oddity was familiar, if not strangely common.

Jayde stood from the computer. She saw her girls busy soaking up everything the men knew. She was pleased at the result.

She walked out of the resource room, and back to her quarters. She saw Sergeant Igntyav working hard at tidying her desk. She wasn’t just sitting there, waiting for the rare dignitary to arrive, to greet him. She sought out work. The female soldiers were efficient also.

She walked into her room, and saw, all her items were gone. They must have loaded them already.

She looked at her watch, and realized it was 1703 hundred hours. She did a once-over, grabbed her toiletries, and walked to Commandant Kolosov’s office.

Alexi was standing in a standard battle dress uniform, waiting to depart. He had two Soviet military soldier bags, and a camouflage tactical array backpack sitting beside him.

“They have loaded your gear onto the transport, Lieutenant,” Alexi informed Jayde.

“Why do you have yours sitting in front of you?” she asked.

“I prefer to have possession of the equipment that keeps me alive, Lieutenant,” Alexi explained.

“What about when they load your gear into the cargo hold of the plane?” she inquired.

“I monitor all movement, from my possession to the cargo hold of the Ilyushin,” he said. “There will be only us, and two pilots in the craft. There will be no one available to tamper in the cargo hold, Lieutenant.”

His reasoning was sound. She knew he was a private person. She also knew his job was built around security, but she had to question why.

“I know you trust your comrades, Sergeant, so why are you so protective of your equipment?” Jayde was curious.

This was the first time Alexi opened up to... anybody. He decided the security of what he was going to say wouldn’t compromise anybody, so he elucidated.

“I have been a paratrooper for years. I was a VDV Blue Beret Skull. I was good. One fateful day, I jumped with my squad on a training operation. Since I commanded my squad, I was the last one to jump. The comrades, whom I trusted so much, packed my chute. That was their job, so I thought nothing of their proficiency.

Since we were Spetsnaz soldiers, we did speed jumps from 380 meters. When we popped, we fell at seven meters per second, so we would not be airborne targets for long. I was in charge, so I was the last one to jump.

When I jumped, I pulled my ripcord at the proper time. That was when things got interesting. When my chute deployed, my suspension cords wrapped in my canopy’s middle. It looked like a brazier. I think your Airborne calls it a ‘Mae West’. I was the last paratrooper to jump, and the first one to land.

My squad thought I was dead. At least, I must have broken every bone in my legs. When they landed, they searched for my mangled body.

That was when everyone nick-named me the ‘Iron Grizzly’. When they searched for me, they saw me get up, aggressively, ripping off my gear, and yelling, “Who packed my damned chute!?” Of course, it was in Russian. I think that will answer your question of my paranoia.”

It did answer that, and another of Jayde’s questions. Sergeant Doshmononov was a rock-hard trooper. Any time a soldier drops over a thousand feet from a plane, with no more than a streamer, and survive, angrily? The nick-name ‘Iron Grizzly’ was appropriate.

The liaison interrupted Jayde’s wonder. “Izvanite, soldiers. The transport is ready for you.”

Jayde looked at her watch. 1800 hours on the dot. She knew she could set her watch by the Russians. They were like German public transportation. If you left early, or arrived late, you were fired. The term ‘fashionably late’ didn’t exist in Eurasia.

Jayde grabbed one of Alexi’s bags. Alexi stopped her in mid-transport.

“Pozhaluysta Lieutenant, I can handle my equipment,” he said.

Jayde released his bag, and witnessed him haul his bags and backpack, all at once, to their transport truck.

That man’s not only an Iron Grizzly, he’s a Steel Work Horse, she thought, as she checked her gear, and filed into the truck. They were on their way to the Ilyushin-76 to travel to Belize, and be administered another confusing dose of jet lag. Jayde was excited to do what she did. In her mind was one phrase—Bring it on!