To be the Best

by The Scotsman

 

PART 1

Chapter 1, Strength

Chapter 2, Fortitude

Chapter 3, Adaptability

Notes

 

Chapter 1, Strength

Dwell not upon thy weariness, thy strength shall be according to the measure of thy desire

 

Alex surveyed the barren winter landscape spread out bellow the ridge line. His years of training keeping him flat on his stomach peering over the rise in the shadow of some tall vegetation. Although he could see no sign of movement in the farm buildings in the near distance, he was still cautious. This was after all the third day of the Escape and Evasion exercise. It was a good bet that the majority of the other candidates had already been apprehended, meaning there were more hunters available to search for each prey. And at the moment that’s how Alex was feeling. Like He felt like a hunted animal running from the predators. He had last eaten yesterday morning. Raw rabbit wasn’t his idea of a gourmet feast but then when your you’re hungry enough you can eat anything. If there was one thing he had learned during the selection process that was it. Unfortunately he now needed food badly.

The farm was laid out like any other in this part of Britain. A Large stone farm house with several outbuildings dotted around it. Pieces of farm machinery covered in tarps strewn about like the bones of long dead dinosaurs. This, he figured, was his best bet to extend his run by another day. As it was, exhaustion was taking its toll on his muscles. and Hhe knew if he could not keep up his bruising pace it would not be long till the tracking dogs brought him to heeal. That’s why Alex was planning to sneak down onto the farm to liberate some eggs and perhaps a chicken as well. The rules specifically forbade this sort of thing but then this was the SAS. Anyone concerned about rules need not apply. Getting the job done First, Last, and Always was the philosophy that ran through the service like a live wire. Rules were for the politicians who decided on the missions. We were they guys who actually went into the shit to make it happen. At least Alex hoped to make that a "We". His performance so far was excellent and he knew if he could get a good result on this exercise it would impress the selectors.

Still seeing no sign of life on the farm in the early dawn’s light, Alex slithered over the ridge line and began the slow advance towards the fence bordering the farm. Not much chance of any hunters being this far out from the start point yet as Alex had worked his arse off keeping a solid pace. His plan had always been to outpace the hunt, always being ahead of theire searches. By the time they moved into an area he planned to have long passed through, leaving no sign of his presence. Still caution was ingrained into him, further boosting his own natural paranoia. Until proven otherwise he would assume the farm housed a full battalion of infantry all peering out just waiting for him to betray his presence.

Slithering closer Alex’s senses were at full stretch, boosted by liberal quantities of adrenalin. He peered into every shadow and listened intently for any sound. Sniffing the air for tell tale signs of stale sweat or cigarette smoke that could often betray a well camouflaged lurker. Nothing untoward came to his attention so he continued his slow advance on the fence. Reaching it he slid himself into the undergrowth along its base, then froze again listening for any signs of life

 

Mark sipped his Coffeey appreciating the warmth it brought on this cold winters morning. It had been a long night of keeping watch in the barn. But he had to admit to himself in his more honest moments that he enjoyed this. It brought back memories of his time in the army when he was younger. He had never minded keeping a night watch like the other national service lads had. It gave him a time of solitary contemplation. A time to wonder about life and the mysteries thereof. This was his second night of watching, and again like last night it did not look like he was going to have a bite this year. A pity as he had been daydreaming of how he would spend the £500 reward for catching one of the candidates from the SAS training program. Two years ago was the last time he had caught any. Two of them together working as a team. That money had been a big help in the farm. Covering the needed deposit on a new thresher as it did. Last year had been a bust as heavy rain and marshy conditions had meant none of the runners had reached as far as his farm, but he had high hopes this year of waylaying some poor sod trying to pinch some food.

His was one of a few farms that almost always got a midnight visitor during these exercises. Just the right distance from the start that the boys were hungry enough to risk it. Never realising that they were repeating a pattern played out for years in the past. Everyone around here knew about the exercise and to be on the lookout for the candidates. They were all good lads and the job they did was a hard and dangerous one keeping people like Mark safe in theire beds, so no one really minded if a bit of food vanished. The army always made good any loses with a bit extra on top for goodwill and the local population took it as a bit of a game. Getting into the spirit of it and acting the part of hostile natives, giving the lads a bit more of a challenge. Anyone seeing one of them or finding sign that they had been through would call the base right quick reporting it in. Bringing searchers and dogs out to take up the chase. £100 they paid if your information helped catch one of the lads. £500 if you got one yourself.

But with the coming of dawn and still no activity it looked like tonight was not going to bring any his way. *Oh well so it goes* thought mark. Forgetting his plans to take his wife of over 34 years into London for a Dirty weekend. *A much better use of the money than a new thresher* thought Mark to himself with a grin on his face. Swilling down the last of the Coffeey from the thermos cap, he screwed it back on tight, collected his shotgun and shifted himself stretching the tightness from his aging frame. *Getting too old for this lark me lad* the pop of his left knee as he stretched sounding loud to his ears.

 

Alex had managed to cross the fence with no outcry of alarm. He was now hugging the side of a stone shed peering round to locate his target. There at the far side of a large barn. A chicken coup could be seen fenced in with wire. Drifting silently on the balls of his feet across the yard towards the coup Alex’s senses were overloading him with information. Smell Sight and sound always came with an extra immediacy when doing this kind of thing. The spice of danger and risk adding an extra potency to life. Exhaustion forgotten for the moment as silently as an apparition he ghosted closer to his intended meal. He knew that speed would be essential here. The chance of keeping all the chickens silent was about non existent once he reached in to grab the unlucky victim. So a mad dash into the undergrowth before anyone responded was his plan. There was not much chance of avoiding notice with this move but the need for food was overwhelming at this point. Once his energy was replenished with a couple of eggs he would be able to make good time heading further East. Very few candidates ever managed to stay out for the full 7 days of the exercise but for those few who did it was almost a guaranteed place in the regiment. Anyone sneaky and devious enough to stay out of the sights of these expert hunters for that long was of obvious value. And Alex fully intended to achieve this feat.

 

Mark emerged from the barn shotgun balanced in the crook of his right arm. Taking in the dawn bringing new light to his very own farm. Seeing the chaotic looking order of the various outbuildings and pieces of machinery always gave him a moment of pride. This was his. The products of his own labours had paid to build half these outbuildings. The machinery was what he had himself bought to better work his acres.

As his gaze swept round Mark was stunned to see an incredibly dirty looking young man standing not more than twenty yards away. One foot frozen in mid stride. The shotgun came up reflexively pointed towards this strange sight.

"Well well lad. I had almost given up hope to see one of your lot the night." A slow smile of ironic humour came unbidden to Mark’s face

"Now lad don’t be doing anything daft now, Yer caught fair and square."

Alex Looked into the barrels of the shotgun trained on him and knew a moments despair. After 3 days of evading the best to be caught so easily by an old farmer out for his morning constitutional was just not fair. *How did I anger you oh Lord*

 

Alex found himself cuffed to a steel post in the corner of the barn. The farmer had ushered him in here and had him place the cuff on his own wrist. Now sitting dejectedly on the ground feeling the reaction hit him. A wave of exhaustion almost carrying him into sleep where he sat. The Old Geezer was back with a smile on his face, very pleased with himself for his mornings work.

"Don’t look so glum lad, it aint the end of the world you know. If you managed to last this long you did right well."

Mark set the cloth covered tray he had carried from the kitchen down in reach of the young soldier prisoner in his barn.

"Here lad I guess you be mighty hungry after 3 days on the run. Get this down you then get some kip before the pick up wagon comes. You got about an hour to wait and you gona need yer strength for what comes next"

At this Alex felt further despair wash over him. The old guy obviously knew about the interrogation that was coming. All the candidates once caught were subjected to some fairly inhumane treatment in order to try to make them break under pressure. Just another part of the selection process but defiantly the most hated and feared part for the candidates.

Alex lifted the cloth cover from the tray releasing a waft of heavenly smelling scent from the full breakfast sat there before him. 2 eggs with the yolks still soft 2 sausages 4 slices of bacon some fried tomatoes, and heaven some fried bread. And a big mug of what smelled like Coffeey. Heaven indeed after the days of hunger.

"What? Th.Thanks." Alex could hardly believe his luck. Getting stuck in before the old farmer could change his mind and take this feast away. The first taste of sausage dipped in Egg yolk was heavenly and before he knew it the plate was empty. The last of the hot Coffeey slippeding down his gullet to further add to the feeling of warm contentment radiating from his sated stomach. *I guess this old geezer aint so bad after all*

Mark chuckled to himself seeing the young soldier so obviously appreciating the food. It was always a pleasure to see someone enjoying the food he laid down before them, and this lad was showing his pleasure with each mouthful. A young looking lad this one. Didn’t look more than 17. Thin face with high cheekbones and fair hair under all the dirt and muck plastered over him. He looked almost girlish in the face if you did not take into account the broad shoulders. He reminded Mark a lot of his own son Simon,. Nnow lost to him these 5 years. This lad though was obviously a lot fitter physically if he could get into the SAS candidacy and last 3 days out on the moors.

Finishing the meal Alex laid his head back against the post allowing a sigh of complete contentment to escape him

"Thanks pall. That was bloody marvellous"

"Glad you enjoyed it son. I be Mark Hutchinson and this is my farm you’re on. I don’t believe in letting folk go hungry around here, and I guess I owed it you as you the one paying for me and the wife’s trip to London a week on Friday."

"Alexander Gorden" Alex replied reaching out with his right hand to the old farmer. A solid grip of work hardened hands.

"But call me Alex. How do you mean? I paying?"

"Well son I get £500 from the MOD for catching you here. That’s gona get me and the wife to London and back for the weekend and a couple of nice dinners and some shopping for her."

"£500 I never knew they paid that much for us. I never knew they VALUED us that much, they seem keen enough to do away with us all."

"Don’t you believe it lad. And another thing don’t be so disappointed in getting taken here. I caught 4 others in my time here and all of them made it through selection."

"Oh how do you know they made it?" Alex was interested. If the old man was telling the truth then perhaps all hope was not gone yet.

"Well lad I always pay me debts. And seeing as how you earned me some money I feel obliged to repay you somehow. So once you’re through with your training get yourself down here for a weekend, and I and the wife will show our appreciation with some good food and company. I like to know the lads I get do well. You might also get to meet 3 of the others as they still come down occasionally when they in the area. I take some pride how well they all, and they always welcome here at my table for dinner"

Alex looked at the old man. Reconsidering his earlier opinion that he was one of the greater fiends from hell.

"Thanks. I think I might just do that"

"Do! Now get your head down till the wagon comes for youi lad. I be sorry about those cuffs but you know how it is" Mark smiled apologetically, Giving a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Don’t worry about it Mr Hutchinson. I understand. And thanks again for the breakfast"

"Call me Mark lad. And yer welcome" So saying the old farmer turned and left the barn, leaving Alex to get what sleep he could before the beginning of the interrogation. He had a suspicion that this would be his last chance to sleep for some days.

 

There is no experience in all the world to be compared to being woken by a DI. That’s a Drill Instructor for those of you who have managed to avoid this dubious pleasure. All DI’s are cloned I am certain. They all come complete with the same Steel wool voice that can rasp the smile off your face at 50 yards. They all have a face that even a mother couldn’t love. And they are all COMPLETE BASTARDS.

This particular DI wasn’t none to pleased to find me enjoying some peaceful slumber when he arrived to collect me for the interrogation phase of the E&E exercise. Seeing someone else enjoying some kip is never pleasing for this breed, but the thought of me sleeping while I should be an exhausted wreck ready for the tender ministrations awaiting me sent this one ballistic. I swear he must have had a megaphone surgically grafted into his throat. And when this overwhelming wave of vicious noise hits you from less than an inch from your left ear you do one of three things. One, You kill whatever is making that racket. Two, You go into catatonia. Or Three, you jump to your feet into a perfect Attention pose in less time than it takes you to blink. Seeing as how I already had a few years experience in the army I was well trained to option three. Before the first syllable was out of his lips I was stood before him rigidly.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING YOU FUCKING WORM. WHO THE FUCK SAID YOU COULD SLEEP? ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION WORM. WHO THE FUCK! SAID YOU COULD SLEEP"

"No one SEARGANT!"

"SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE YOUR SHITY HEAD DOWN SLEEPIGN YOU DOG TURD?!!!"

"I must have fallen asleep from exhaustion SEARGANT!"

This was all a familiar game to me by now. This DI was going spend 5 minutes yelling at the top of his voice dressing me down for anything and everything. SOP. Standard Operating Procedure.

"Excuse me sergeant" this from mark as he wandered into the barn

"WHAT!!" The scream from the DI was cut off in mid screech as he turned to see that it was indeed a civilian he was addressing and not one of his pet victims.

"Oh sorry sir how can I help you?"

"Well I don’t want to interrupt or nowt, but do you think you could maybe keep the volume down a bit. Me wife is still trying to sleep in the house and she be right upset with the pair if us if you wake her up"

Trying to keep a straight face on while this DI worked his head round this idea was amongst the hardest things I have ever done.

"Ahh Sorry about that sir. Um ah could I have the keys for these cuffs now and I will take the prisoner"

Already finding it almost beyond my ability to keep from reacting, I was not helped when Mark the farmer gave me a sly wink as the DI was distracted opening the cuffs. Now as anyone can tell you who has ever been in any military anywhere in the world, sniggering at your DI’s misfortune was a sure fire way to some serious suffering. I truly amazed myself at the depth of self control I was able to bring to bear on this problem. Not a single snigger or smile escaped me. Perhaps I should say a prayer of thanks for divine strength when this was all over.

Hustled out to the waiting truck I was loaded into the back like cargo. 3 other prisoners were here waiting for me. Each one bound gagged and blindfolded with a cloth bag covering theire heads. Seeing this I was able to stop from panicking as I was given the same treatment and thrown into the bed of the truck with little decorum.

 

Mark signed the paper the sergeant presented him with then accepted his copy. This was an agreement to keep silent about all this. Although the MOD did not make it any great secret about the nature of the training for the SAS, they liked to make the decisions on what information was given and when. So all dealings with the local population were covered by non disclosure agreements. Now that this was signed mark would receive his £500 bounty by check in the next week or so. Some people felt this was all rather degrading, but then Mark had been in the army himself. He knew full well the value of training. Mostly because himself and the other national service lads had so little training when they went to fight. He had seen friends die for lack of knowing what to do. Any way he could help lads like Alex stay alive he was happy to oblige. The money from the MOD was simply a nice bonus.

Waving as the truck rumbled down the farm track Mark turned to his farm to tell the wife that they would be going to London for the weekend after all.

 

The 4 ton military truck wove its way through the landscape. Stopping to make 2 more collections on its way. Eventually turning onto a main A road and heading back to the barracks for the next phase to begin for the unfortunate prisoners in the back.

As the truck picked up speed the DI in the back could be heard joking with the 2 guards who were with him. Referring to the unpleasant things that would be happening to the prisoners soon. One guard asking the DI if the interrogator really used to work for Sadam Husaine. This too was of course part of the script. Building in the minds of the prisoners the horrors that awaited them. Years had been spent perfecting this setup. Making certain that maximum pressure and fear could be brought to bear on the candidates. This was the purpose of this exercise. To gauge the mental strength of each. Testing for any problems that could spell disaster if exposed while on active duty. Many critics have slammed the treatment of the candidates for the SAS over the years. But always the reply is the same. *We are the BEST. We can accept no less than that. All candidates are volunteers and can stop at any point they chose.* and this is of course true. The very toughness of the selection process is what drew candidates from all over the world. If you asked these candidates of the selection should be made easier they would unanimously say NO! SIR! FUCK OFF SIR!

Turning onto a dual carriageway the truck accelerated to seventy. Not long now until the treatment began. All these men huddled in the back of the truck had already undergone physical tests that would have broken a normal man. Physically they were about as perfect a group of human specimens as the human race produces. Fit in ways athletes would envy, but without the susceptibility to injury so common amongst them. Each one resilient and strong, able to deal with almost any challenge the world threw against them. Next came the testing for mental strength which must be equally resilient.

But sometimes Fate intervenes. And when she does the tests faced are often far greater than those used even by the SAS. Fate accepts no restriction on her tests, testing to destruction is the rule not the exception. And there is no chance to back out once chosen.

 

 

Chapter 2, Fortitude

May God give me the Strength to change what is changeable, the Patience to endure what is not, and the Wisdom to know the difference between the two.

 

James Oliver Park was feeling tired. It had been a 13 hour drive down from Caethness. Normally it should not have taken more than 8, but this had been a bad day, all the bloody roadworks had kept delaying him. He had a full load of chemical by-products that needed delivered in the next hour or his company would lose the contract. Seeing as there were only him and his 3 partners in the company this would spell immediate financial meltdown for him and his family. The house was mortgaged to the hilt to start the trucking company in the first place. When this contract had been signed it spelled financial security, but one of the footnotes on the contract specifically stated that these shipments MUST be delivered no later than 14 hours after collection. No layovers were to be accepted. Any delays beyond this would result in the immediate termination of the contract. This had not been a big problem until now as the longest trip to date had only taken 11 hours. He had been nervous when that one was delayed so close to the deadline but it had all worked out eventually. This delivery also would be made on schedule. It might be tight but he would make it.

What the chemical plant had neglected to tell James and his three partners was that the DEADLINE was exactly that. The chemicals he was transporting were known to be particularly unstable. Any longer than 14 hours without some very heavy cryogenic equipment to keep it frozen and it was likely to explode.

Transporting such chemicals with the correct equipment along to keep it frozen was of course hideously expensive. That’s why some corporate hotshot had thought of this money saving idea. Just don’t tell the transporters what they were carrying and as long as everything made it on time all would be fine and save the company a fortune.

Unfortunately for James, the company hotshots made an error in calculating the safe time. Theire minimum safe figure of 18 hours was based on the chemical being in a tank that stayed still. When you added in the sloshing around caused by transport in the tanker, that figure dropped to just 12 hours.

James was of course driving to his death. The only question was how many others would die as his tanker exploded like a 5,000 pound bomb.

 

Alex was huddled in the back of the truck. His face covered by the black hood. His hands and feet bound together behind him. He could hear other men breathing close to him and assumed these were the other prisoners. The DI and his two guards were still trying to wind them all up with there comments about blow torches and surgical implements. Alex had a fair idea of what was coming and although it would be very bad he knew that no permanent damage would be done. So disregarded such nonsense as propaganda designed to get him scared.

Laying there on his side Alex had never felt so helpless in his life. Always his strength and speed could get him out of any situation but this time he had no choice but to just wait. And that waiting was worse by far than anything the DI was talking about.

Without warning the truck was picked up like a toy. Hhurled through the air like a dandelion seed on the wind, to land side on some 200 yards from where it had been. The wall of flames that accompanied the blast ripped through the flimsy tarp’s covering the truck. Like an angry angel, the wall of flames that accompanied the blastthe flames engulfed the truck and it’s remaining passengers, all that were still within. Iincinerating them to charred meat in moments. Two passengers had been less lucky than those who died so quickly. As the truck was thrown through the air they had been flung free. Carried on the fire storm’s edge they were not given the mercy of extinction. Rather they were given a more tender embrace of flame. Slowly burning through first theire clothing then theire skin. Of the two, the guard was perhaps the more lucky. His first breath sucked flames into his lungs bringing death after less than 2 seconds. The second victim was far less lucky. The cloth hood covering his face and the gag forced into his mouth meant the flames could not penetrate here. Instead they would have to burn theire way through his body in order to extinguish his life. Here again the man was unlucky. His body being strong and young fought the flames and death did not come quickly. Rather an eternity in hell compressed into mere moments. Finally this torment was ended as the flame ravaged remains of what was once Alexander Gordon came crashing down into a pond extinguishing the flames and cooling the charred tissue. as the force of the flames subsided.

Here at last oblivion claimed him. Darkness descended upon his conscious mind like a blessed friend.

Yet still what had but moments before been a body in the peak of physical fitness fought for life. His heart refused to give up the beat, his lungs continued the ancient rhythm. Life persevered.

 

The sounds of screaming sirens and screaming people blended seamlessly into an incarnation of hell. Fires still burned in wrecked vehicles on or around the roadway. A huge crater had been gouged into the West bound lane extending all the way across the now missing divider and half way across the eastbound lanes. Trees and bushes smoked and spat as flames licked at there foliage. A few dazed people wandered about with no seeming aim. Others sat with blank eyed stares. The first few police to arrive at the scene were overwhelmed by what they saw. Nothing in all there careers had prepared them for this.

"Control this is officer Larson. Send help. PLEASE send help. There are many dead and wounded here. Lots of fires." This was of course not how a report should be made but then no one could ever blame him. Not after driving into this carnal house.

"Got a live one here. Bring a backboard…."

"Over here. Over here…."

"Its too late to worry about that one doc…."

"Get that fire out before it spreads any further…."

The voices were distant and only infrequently heard. Even when they were heard something was wrong. They did not sound right. Slowly as awareness returned to the thing floating in the ponds shallow waters, questions began to surface. *where am I* *who am I* *what am I* no memory spoke up to answer these strange questions. As there did not seem to be any reason to do anything the mind simply waited.

"We need more body bags…."

This from closer than the last things heard. Still there did not seem to be any reason to do anything so again the mind waited. Time passed slowly. The mind passed in and out of consciousness without really being aware of the difference. Eventually a voice spoke even closer than before.

"Jeezzus. Will you look at the state of THAT one" this spoken in a disgusted baritone,

"its your turn Dave. On you go I’ll wait here with the bag, just drag it out." A different voice

something different was happening now. The sounds of something splashing through water were getting closer and the waves of this passage could be felt. A tickle became apparent on the minds leg. The sensation quickly becoming one of pain. The pain escalating quickly to torture.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

At the wordless scream of pain rising from the horribly burned body David Smith let go of the burnt limb and fell back into the water. Inconceivable as it was that this THING could possible be alive it was now screaming unlike anything Dave had ever heard before in his life.

"Fuck. Fucking hell it’s alive. Get a doctor dam it"

Dave crept closer to the body floating in the water as his partner rushed off back towards the road to find help. The body before him was still screaming in inarticulate agony.

"Don’t worry mate. Helps on the way. Just hold on another couple minutes and well get you out of here and to hospital" His words of reassurance seemingly had no effect as the screaming continued. Dave edged closer again peering at the living corpse before him. No sign of what this person had looked like before was left. Not even enough to tell if it had been male or female. Only the shape confirmed that it was even human.

As John rushed back dragging a doctor in tow Dave lifted his hand into the air waving them on.

"Doc over here. This ones alive. I don’t know how he could be alive with this much damage, but he is"

The doctor gazed at the wreck of a man floating in the pool of water before her, undecided on how she could help. Finally jerked out of her thoughts by the continued screams she leapt forward into the water to administer an injection of morphine. Not normally used in situation like this as it could allow a victim to slip into death but in this case she could not in god conscience allow such suffering to continue while she had the means to alleviate it.

The mind subsided back into unconsciousness and the screaming subsided. But again the body was not yet ready to give up the fight. And the heart beat on.

 

As the clean up continued at the scene of tragedy, it was discovered that some 37 persons had lost there lives. More than one hundred and thirty more had suffered injury of some kind or another. Of those two more were to lose theire fight with death. However the single most seriously injured survivor from the incident did not, as every doctor presumed he would, die. This poor wreck of a man they now knew to be called Alexander Gordon, this gleaned from the single remaining dog tag they had found imbedded in his chest. Many questions were raised by this survivor. When he was found his hands and feet were still bound behind him. This mystery getting the attention of the police before finally being put to rest as the military came forward to claim him and explained the nature of the exercise he had been involved in. Questions were asked on how he could be found over five hundred yards form the blast site, while being self evidently in no condition to walk. The most important question raised being what to do for him? With almost 100% third degree burns and massive infections setting in from the pool of stagnant water he was found in little chance of life could be found for him. Many were of the opinion that he simply be allowed to die as further prolonging his suffering would be to no purpose. Enquires were sent out for any family he may have so that the medical staff could request that the life support machines he was now attached to could be stopped. Finally it as reported that no family could be found. His last known relative wasbeing his father who died some two years previously.

When Captain William Campbell of the SAS, heard of this survivor of the training exercise gone so horribly wrong, he felt an immediate responsibility. This man might not have been formally accepted into the regiment as yet. But he had been here under there jurisdiction. His records and test scores showed that he was moving along nicely. His instructors confirmed that he was one of the ones they had marked as likely to succeed. After conferring with some of the other officers on the base Captain Campbell decided to sign off on this young man’s requests to join the SAS. If nothing else could be done for him then he could at least die as a member of the regiment he had worked so hard to join. He at the time did not realize then what responsibility this was soon to place him under.

 

A phone rings in a small office on the west side of the administration block.

"Hello Caption Campbell"

"Captain this is Doctor Wright at the St Elmer’s hospital here. I am given to understand that you are the commanding officer of a Lance Corporal Alexander Gordon, is that correct?"

"Yes doctor Corporal Gordon came under my authority as of eighteen hundred hours yesterday."

"Well captain I am sorry to have to place this responsibility onto your shoulders but I am afraid that the young man has no family to make this decision."

"What decision is that sir?"

"Corporal Gordon has massive burns to 98% of his body as you know. He has multiple secondary infections in the burnt tissues and has in my opinion no chance of pulling through. At the moment we are keeping the patient under anaesthetic as even morphememorphine would beis insufficient to block the severity of pain he would be suffering if awake. Unfortunate we can not continue to so sedate him past tomorrow morning. He has a strong will to live however and I believe he would continue in unspeakable agony for up to a week before succumbing. I am calling to request permission to suspend life support at this time in order to spare him that pain."

"WHAT! You can’t be seriously asking that of me."

"I am sorry sir, but as he has no family you are the ONLY person who has that authority. I know it is not something you would expect to have to decide normally, but as his commanding officer the responsibility is yours."

"Can I think this through and confer with my superiors then get back to you doctor?"

"Of course captain. But please remember that by 10am tomorrow morning your man will be living in hell." With this the Doctor hung up.

Did a commanding officer have the right to decide such a thing for one of his men? Sure in the heat of combat it might be necessary to give a merciful bullet to a comrade, but here in peacetime? Could he give that order now? It all seemed rather cold blooded to the captain. Simply to make a phone call and a man dies. Perhaps a better question would be Should he give that order now. If the situation is truly as hopeless as the doctors suggest than yes I should. But should I simply take the first opinion given to me? I know if it was me on the receiving end I would want someone to make damn sure of all the options before pulling the plug on me. Fine then I can get a second opinion and do some looking around for any possible remedy. If by tomorrow morning nothing has turned up I can give the order in good conscience.

Satisfied with his course of actions, Captain Campbell begins began the series of calls to army medics and doctors that wouldill lead him eventually to speaking to a Professor Thomas Barker. A leading expert in the field of Biotechnology and cellular reconstruction. The professor’s current project being funded by the MOD to extend research of using advanced technology to aid in battlefield care of wounded. His laboratory was situated in a secure location along with those of other top scientists working on government projects.

 

Tom as he liked to be called when working around a lab, carefully peeled back the covering from the arm growing onto the shoulder of the rhesus monkey laying unconscious on the table before him. All seems to have worked excellently this time. No signs of abnormalities or tumours had yet arisen as they had in previous experiments. This specimen had had the left arm severed at the shoulder joint, the replacement arm was now growing quickly into place. Excellent progress. Only recently had the necessary breakthrough been made to de produce the all important EmbeyonicEmbryonic Stem Cells in sufficient quantity for such a large application. No longer was it necessary to extract these cells from embryos, now it was simply a matter of extracting a few stem cells from the subject and processing them. The resulting cells could then be cultured to produce as much as was required for almost any task. The most difficult challenge to date had been separating out those cells which were damaged in the process as even a few could be catastrophic in the applications they were intended for. Massive cancerous growths had accompanied the earlier tests. This problem now appeared to be solved thanks in no small part to the genius of the professor. Forcing the initial batch of cells to differentiate into an analogue of the normal immune system resulted in subsequent cells being self screened. Anything not exactly matching the genetic template was destroyed with little or no effort for the scientists working on the project.

Rewrapping the still growing arm the professor signalled for one of his assistants to return the subject to its cage.

"Call for professor Barker. Line eight." The professor glanced up at the speaker mounted on the wall as the call was repeated. Striding over to the phone mounted bellow it and punching the button marked 8.

"Professor Barker speaking"

"Good afternoon professor. I am Captain Campbell with the SAS. I am given to understand you are working on some new methods of treating extreme battlefield injuries."

"That’s correct captain. How can I be of assistance?"

"Well sir I was hopping that your methods could be of help to one of my men. He has received third degree burns on over 90% of his body and I have been assured that no conventional therapy has any chance of helping him. A mutual friend mentioned that this was exactly the type of injury your research was intended to treat."

"Well we do have hopes of eventually dealing with such, but at the moment we are very much still in the early stages. We are only now beginning to receive positive results from animal trials."

"You have had positive results though?"

The professor glances over at the only positive result so far. The rhesus monkey now safely locked back into her cage

"Well some results captain."

"Would you be interesting in trialling testing your methods on a real patient professor? I am prepared to authorize any treatment that could give even the slimmestness chance of survival for this man, with a few provisions."

The professor thought about this carefully. It was of course something that would accelerate his work greatly. Results between animal trials and human’s were always marginally different. To have a human patient to work on at this stage would give excellent data on how his methods would need to be adapted to take this into account.

"Well there are some issues involved in this captain. I don’t know if I could get authorisation form the General Medical Council for such a trial."

"No problem professor. The patient is a serving member of the armed forces. And I am both his commanding officer and acting as next of kin. Under these circumstances and as they project is under military funding no application to the GMC would be needed."

"Next of kin? Is the man a relative of yours captain? A brother or nephew perhaps"

"No professor it’s only that he has no surviving relatives to make this type of decision for him. As I am his commanding officer, that burden was passed to me."

"Well I am interested captain, but before we go any further there are a few things we would need to discuss. Would it be possible for you to make your way over here for a face to face meeting?"

One hour later in the cafeteria room if the research institute. Professor Barker and Captain Campbell sat discussing the fate of Alexander Gordon. A one time soldier of the SAS and now a flame ravaged near corpse.

"The two overriding provisions from my perspective professor are that One, Corporal Gordon suffers no pain. If no way can be found to alleviate his suffering I would rather give the order to pull the plug on him, and allow him to die. And Two, Some chance of a meaningful recovery exist. What point living if you can’t speak move of feel anything. As long as your project can satisfy these two points you can have my blessing to take Corporal Gordon."

"The second point I can personally assure you on captain. If everything goes successfully a full and complete recovery in every way is possible. The first point however I myself can’t provide. Not to fear though. You are in luck captain. One of the other projects running in this complex involves inducing electrical currents in specific parts of the human brain. This research is aimed at developing a drug free anesthetise. My college Doctor Emily Brown is in the process of seeking approval to move onto human trials for her devices. If you can extend your authority to cover that as well as my own trial, pain should not be a problem."

"This all sounds agreeable to me professor."

"Perhaps before we go any further I should explain the risks involved for the patient captain." The professor considered carefully just how much detail to give "Firstly I must confess that the odds on success are far from good. To be honest I can not even tell you what sort of odds they are, this would be a complete shot in the dark as far as saving the corporals life is concerned."

"That’s ok Prof. at this point a shot in the dark looks like all this kid is going to get. If you want to take that shot then that’s fine with me. And know that even if it goes to shit I wont blame you."

"Fair enough captain. Also you should be aware that even if successful the level of success is also unknown. In theory our work could repair almost any damage. Spinal injuries or brain damage are not in theory a problem. Unfortunately we don’t yet know enough about the techniques to control the process. We are like a man riding a space rocket who knows nothing about it. He pushes the start button and hopes for the best. Your corporal could be returned to full fitness ready to rejoin his regiment. Alternatively he could be left barley alive. We just won’t be able to tell which until the treatment is finished."

"All I ask is that you give him a chance Prof. This lad has already survived more than should have killed him five times over. And he is a soldier. If he was the type to only take the safe bets he would never have joined the SAS in the first place. You give him his chance Prof, and I and the rest of the regiment will stick by you regardless what happens."

The captain reached over the table proffering his right hand to shake on the agreement.

"Done then captain" the professor griped firmly and shook.

 

As dawn broke over the hospital the discordant sounds of a helicopter approaching could be heard. A large Sikorsky dual rotor transport helicopter hove into view. Setting down in the empty car park like a brooding insect the cargo ramp at the back slowly lowered. Eight men in uniform descended caring large and heavy black metallic cases. Following them came three burley male nurses wheeling a gurney fitted out with odd looking equipment. Finally down the ramp came Professor Barker, Doctor Brown and Captain Campbell. Marching into the hospital like an invasion they brushed past patients and staff heading for the burns unit on the third floor. Questions were brushed aside and a reaction wave of exclamations and surprise washed before them.

Reaching Corporal Gordon took only 3 minutes and five documents from the attaché case in the captain’s hands. Once there the process of replacing the hospitals life support tubes and wires with those strapped to the gurney took only minutes. While the orderlies dealt with this task Doctor Brown was assisted by the uniformed soldiers in setting up various arcane appearing pieces of equipment. Soon the small room looking more like an advanced computer lab than a hospital room. Wires trailed from unit to unit, light blinked and buzzers buzzed. All this equipment attached in one form or another to the plastic cap carefully placed over the patients head.

Once Doctor Brown was satisfied with the placement she began rapid fire typing commands into the keyboard attached to one of the units.

"OK this is going to take about 5 minutes to configure itself. Just don’t disturb him while it works"

"What’s it all doing anyway Doc?" This from Captain Campbell.

"Oh, well you see captain no two brains are identical. In order to enforce a state of deep sleep we first need to find out how the patients brain is mapped out. That’s what I need all this equipment for. The actual suppressor that will keep him asleep is fairly small. Here have a look" The doctor proffered a silver metal case about 1 foot long. A single clasp on the front holding it closed.

The captain opening the box found a soft velvet lining not unlike that found within the case for a musical instrument. Nestled within this lining was a device that looked right out of Star Trek. White plastic with lights and readouts on the central section. About the size of a pack of playing cards. Two small wings curving round at the sides to cup the patients head.

"That’s it?"

"Yup. Pretty cool isn’t it."

Taking the case back the doctor inserted a cable from the terminal she had been working on into the side of the central box. Light began to flash on its surface to be replaced by a single glowing green LED.

"That’s it. It’s programmed. Now let’s see how well it works"

Removing the device the doctor squeezed some gel onto the metal contacts on the undersides of the two wings. Placing the device firmly onto the patient’s forehead and pressing down for a solid contact.

"This gel is both a conductor and glue. It should hold the unit in place for up to 7 days without needing any attention. The power drain is so low that the batteries will also not need recharging for that time. But PLEASE be careful with it. This is the only prototype we have ready yet."

The doctor removed the wire laden hat from over the patients head and nodded to the orderlies that he was ready for transport. Gently they lifted him from his bed into the gurney they had brought.

Once all were again safely aboard, the ramp on the back of the chopper retracted. Quickly lifting into the air and away, the whole operation having taken no more than fifteen minutes.

 

 

Chapter 3, Adaptability

A strong branch will snap in the wind, while a subtle read will bend. True strength lies in bending with that which attacks you robbing it of its force.

 

The Gurney was wheeled into a new larger lab. The centre of the space taken by a tall tank containing a pink tinged liquid, around it were strewn various pieces of equipment with tables along the walls holding microscopes computers and other esoteric pieces of scientific paraphernalia. Controlled chaos rules as scientists and technicians swarmed performing there unknown functions accompanied by mysterious calls full of acronyms the meaning of which was unknown to the captain.

"BSNFT up!"

"Haemoglobin analogue at 12%"

"Temp 32"

"Inducer ready"

"What’s the SPT?"

"18 on one 26 on two and 23 on three"

"Do the crossover"

Again the life support apparatus attached to the corporal was replaced, this time with some very unusual pieces of equipment. Every orifice in the body seemed to have at least one tube or wire attached. A sling was placed under Alex’s arms attached to a cable reaching overhead.

"Ok ready for transfer?" this from the Professor overseeing all the activity around him.

"Yes"

"Ready"

"Good to go here"

"Fine"

"OK"

"Right then" from the professor again marshalling his forces" Lift him gently"

The sling passed under Alex’s arms pulled tight gently lifting him into first a sitting position, then slowly upright and clear of the gurney. Slowly and carefully positioning the inert form over the tank, it began lowering him in feet first. Once the level of the liquid reached his neck the operation paused. Doctor Brown ascended a flight of stairs affixed to the side and back of the tank carrying a cap similar to the one used to map out the brain patter in the hospital. Placing this over the patients head she then squirted a small amount of solvent onto the pads of the inducer attached to his forehead, this solvent quickly allowing her to remove the prototype. Once this was clear lowering continued and Corporal Alexander Gordon was soon fully immersed in the pink liquid within the tank. His body could clearly be seen via the transparent front of the tank.

"Ok well done all and thanks for your help." The professor briskly began ushering the extra personnel out from his lab, thanks given it was now time to get down to work.

"What now Prof?" asked Captain Campbell.

"We should be ready with the first Stem cell culture to be introduced by tomorrow evening. Once that is in we won’t have to worry about those infections. The first culture is almost entirely pre set for immune system. He will temporarily have the equivalent of 10000% the normal immune response. After that we will be introducing unspecialized cultured every day for as long as it takes."

"How long is that likely to be Prof" asked the captain

"I cant give you an exact figure, but I would say months rather than weeks."

"How long though until you know if its working or not?"

"Well captain there should be obvious changes even after only a week. I expect that after that time the damage tissues on the surface of the patients body to have been removed by the immune system. At the same time Stem cells will be binding to what’s left of him and differentiating into whatever cell type is needed. All following the genetic blue print the same way as his body was originally grown. That’s the great part about our work here. We don’t need to program every cell. The blueprints already come packed within everyone in the form of DNA. We just need to provide the right environments for the process to take place."

"So what problems could come up then Prof"

"Our biggest problem potentially is cancer. With so much happening in there we can expect around 0.2% of the cells to develop faults. Of these 5% will become cancerous. That’s the reason we set up such an immense immune response right at the start. We let the bodies own defences, heavily reinforced by us of course, deal with the problem. Cleaning out the damaged tissues and killing off the infections is merely a bonus. We need to keep a close eye on things though in case anything slips past. If we can catch it fast enough we might be able to excise it before it becomes a real problem."

"Ok Prof, I’ll leave you to you work. But please call me with updates on a weekly basis and let me know if anything goes wrong."

"No problem captain. I promise you will be the second to know right after me"

 

Time passed and things returned to normal for the captain. Once a week he would receive a written report on the state of the unfortunate corporal. For six months this routine continued without any problems coming to his attention. Until that is he received a call one day asking him to attend the lab. No details were given of the problem other than assuring the captain that it was not life threatening. Arranging to drive out the next morning the captain put it out of his mind.

On the following morning Captain Campbell arrived at the research institute at 9am to be welcomed by an agitated professor. Rather than taking him into the lab the professor again lead him to the cafeteria.

"Coffey captain?"

"Please."

"Now I don’t want to alarm you with this but we seem to have hit a slight snag. It seems there was one factor we did not take into account during our animal trials due to the nature of the subjects"

"You mean because they were animals?"

"No its that they were all Female animals. Another team in here was specifically requesting nothing but male rhesus monkeys leaving only females available for my own project."

"I don’t understand professor. How could that effect the treatment for my corporal?"

"Well you have to understand captain what defines male and female at a cellular level. Females have a double X chromosome where as males have an XY chromosome. As we had previously only been dealing with female test subjects we failed to take this into account while processing cellular material for the Stem cells we require."

"I am sorry Prof, but I still don’t understand what you mean."

"Uhm. Well let me explain if I can. You see in the womb all embryos are initially female you see. Only after a few hours are some changed to become male." This change is to the best of out knowledge caused by a certain chemical marker present or not in the pregnant mother’s womb. Well as we did not take this process into account we of course did not provide that marker"

"Ahh" the Professor could see that the Captain was getting disturbed by this.

"Well captain its not life threatening I assure you. We have checked and rechecked and your corporal is in no danger of death."

"So what exactly is going on then?"

"Well captain as the new cellular material is all female it means that all repairs are conforming to the female form."

"So you are telling me that Corporal Alexander Gordon, a member of the SAS and a soldier for over 3 years now looks like a woman?"

"Well it goes a little deeper than Looks I am afraid"

"Oh? Explain."

"Well you see captain the massive immune boost we originally gave the corporal also included the female variant of his genetic blueprint. As time has gone on it has been slowly rejecting the male structure of the original body. Luckily for us the new cellular growth is more than keeping up with these rejections. In practise it means that there is a slow process of replacing one with the other. Male for female if you see what I mean."

"Just how far has this went? And how far will it go?"

"At the moment only about a third of the original body has been affected."

"Has it affected his brain? If this was to replace his brain it would in effect be killing him and replacing him with a female clone of himself. That would not be acceptable."

"Oh no there is little chance of that happening. The brain is protected by a membrane which is slowing down the passage of the new immune cells into it. It would only become an issue if the treatment lasted longer than 12 month’s. Until then there would be no effect’s there at least."

"Wont the rejection continue after the treatment is done? If some of him is female and some is male wont they end up at war?"

"No captain that won’t happen. The difference between the male and female cellular structures is in most cases incredibly subtle. It is only being rejected now as the patients immune system has been boosted to such an incredible extent. Once the treatment is ended his own immune system will not be able to differentiate between the two."

"How long left until the treatment could be ended?"

"At least another 3 months. At the moment there is further development needed for the musculature and epidermis. At the moment he could not long survive outside the nutrient bath we have him suspended in."

"How far will this… Feminisation? have gone by then?"

"Probably total. In a biological sense He is already a She. X-rays and ultrasound scans have confirmed the presence of a full female reproductive system. Research by other scientists else where makes me believe that he, sorry, she will also develop ovaries and be fully fertile."

"But how is that possible Prof? A man can manufacture sperm as he goes but I know woman are BORN with all the eggs they will ever use"

"Yes that’s correct Captain. But it has been shown conclusively in studies by a team at Rockefeller University and Sloan-Kettering Institute on mice that the embryonic stem cells we work with here are fully capable of differentiating into ANY other cell type. Even these. This is why I have called you here today. I have no idea how your man will react when he wakes to discover that he is now a woman."

"Good question Prof. Personally I have no idea. If it was me I think there would be a good chance of my trying to rip your damn fool head of and jamming it up your arse. But then that’s just me"

"Oh" The professor was not a large man by any standard. His normally small size seemed to compact further as he scrunched up looking very nervous.

"DO you think that violence is possible? Really?"

The captain carefully considered yelling *DAMN RIGHT I DO YOU BLOODY FRANKENSTINE*. But looking at the professor sat across from him, he was afraid he would faint or have a stroke or something.

"Yes I think that’s a good possibility"

"Oh dear. We don’t really have the facilities here to deal with a violent patient." The captain could see the little professor getting more and more scared as this idea worked into his head. The thought of a highly trained SAS killer with personal motivation to cause him pain was probably a new experience for the scientist.

"Look Prof its not too late yet. Why don’t you just stick in some Male cells and reverse the change?"

"Oh we cant do that. The female coded immune system would destroy whatever male coded material we introduced."

"SO stick some male coded immune shit in there then"

"No the corporal would die if we did that. Both immune systems would be busy killing each other and the rest of the body. I am afraid we are stuck with female. No going back at this point. Well at least it will be a Woman angry at me and not a man. She should be easier to control anyway."

At this the captain began to laugh. At seeing the uncomprehending look the professor was giving him, the laughter became uncontrollable and the captain slid down from his chair onto the floor holding his side as the laughter continued to pour out of him.

"Captain are you ok?"

"Should I call for a doctor captain?"

 

Thirty minutes later, still with a pain I his side and tears in his eyes the captain accompanied the professor into the lab to view the first female member of the SAS in history.

The body in the tank looked remarkably different from the burnt wreck he had last seen. Pink skin covered around half the are he could see. In those area not so covered muscle could be seen exposed like a medical reference book. No sign of burnt flesh remained. The figure did indeed look female. Although no breasts were apparent it had the slim litheness associated with women. Examining the hands closely the captain noted the gracefulness of the fingers. On no part of the body before him was there anything that indicated it had formerly been male.

"As you can see the epidermis is still forming. Once that is complete the treatment will be complete. All that is left is that and for some further muscle development."

"Has he really been asleep all this time?"

"Yes she has. Doctor Brown is overjoyed at the results of this test. If nothing further comes from this whole mess then at least it confirmed her work and put it closer to clinical use. The Sleep inducer has performed flawlessly throughout."

"Please give her my congratulations and thanks professor."

"There is another research team in the institute who would also like to take part. They are working on a method to help in the rehabilitation of the long term ill and those who are revering from strokes. You are aware of problems that can arise in losing physical coordination after you patients have been bed ridden for extended periods? Well this project aims to stimulate the part of the brain responsible for motor control while also stimulating the muscles. They hope in this way both to improve co ordination and to keep the physical musculature in prime condition. I think there assistance would be of benefit here as without it Corporal Gordon will be incapacitated for several months while she builds her strength and relearns to pilot her body."

"Sounds like a good idea to me Prof. Though I surprised you suggested it"

"How so?"

"With how he’s going to feel about you when he wakes up a woman, I would have thought having him unable to walk for several months would appeal to you"

The captain watched as the little professors eyes bulged. He had obviously not thought of this idea.

"But now you have mentioned it. I think it’s a good idea. When can this other team start." Best to bull ahead before the Prof could consider forgetting about the idea.

"Oh umm. Any time once you give your authorization. They dot have much equipment to set up and can work round the rest of us without getting in the way.

"Well then why don’t you tell them to go ahead and I will come back next week to meet them. OK Prof?"

"OK then I guess." The professor again was looking like a very nervous little genius.

 

One week later the captain was back in the lab being introduced to a research assistant on the recuperation team.

"Captain Campbell meet Justin McDonald, Justin is monitoring the work out being given to your corporal here.

The captain engulfed Justin’s hand I his own giving it an enthusiastic shake

"Nice meeting you Justin. What’s the Prof mean by workout?"

"Well sir we have a number of aerobic and callisthenic workouts pre programmed into our device. WE simply play the tape 4 times a day and the body gets the physical exercise that that workout would provide. This second device here links the physical stimulus with the motor control centre of the brain allowing it to learn what muscles do what."

"Very interesting Justin. But tell me can it only do basic workouts? Could you set it to train for say… Long distance running? Or Martial arts?"

"I don’t see why not sir. It’s all just a set of impulses stored on tape. We would need to wire some volunteers up with about 50 pounds of equipment and have them go through the exercise once. But that’s about it"

"How many volunteers would you need?"

"Oh four or five works best. The individual differences balance out that way"

"Ok Justin I think I can get you some volunteers to make as many tapes as you want. Just as long as they all involve the sort of training you get for the army. This person in the tank is after all a soldier and before the soldier had the physical fitness for it. It’s only fair that we return her to that fitness if we can."

"Oh that’s no problem. Once we have the tapes we can set up the exercises to develop whatever level of fitness you want."

"Excellent. I will send over a few men tomorrow afternoon then. And don’t let them skive off either. They will be here to work and if they give you any shit refer them to me. I want this soldier as fit as is possible when she wakes up. It might make coping easier for her."

 

5 months later.

Again the captain was looking at the person on the other side of the glass, suspended in the pink solution. Now the skin was complete, rolling smoothly over well shaped muscles defining a slim and attractive female body. Breasts had developed as well as the rounded hips and derriere. Some thoughtful person had clothed her with underwear to preserve modesty. From the charred lump of meat brought in 12 months ago this woman was an unbelievable result.

Physical conditioning had continued over the last months. New training tapes being created by "volunteers" from the SAS each week. Although the body behind the glass did not look it she was incredibly strong. An unexpected reaction of heavy exercise while the muscles were still being grown had been a marked increase in density. The martial arts tapes had also been continued, including over the last month those produced by masters. Experts in 4 different fighting styles had helped produce tapes that would hopefully gift this new woman with such fluid motion and grace as would put a cat to shame. The results of this training would not be seen until she was awakened and began to move around.

Today was finally the day. The captain stood with 6 other members of the regiment to welcome her back to life, and to restrain her from the professor if it became necessary to do so. The largest question still remained just how she would react to the news.

It was time.

 

END OF PART 1

 

 

NOTES.

This I think is more than big enough for part one of a multi part story. I think I might be a BIT long winded when it comes to writing. But hey I see it in my head and describe it on the page. Not exactly the most carefully thought out method in the world I know.

Any comments or corrections please email me at t@owens74.freeserve.co.uk

If you think its rubbish tell me WHY and what bits.

If you get bored as I just too damn long winded Say so

If you find my characters Wooden and unbelievable TELL me PLEASE.

If you think chapter 2 is too graphic….. Well yes it is a bit isn’t it, but again I just see it in my head then find the words to describe it.

And finely if you actually ENJOYED it. PLEASE PLESAE PLESAE PLEASE. Tell me. I could always use a nice boost to me ego. Just please tell me what bits you enjoyed most if you can.

Thanks TONS

The Scotsman

 

(Shoot first and don’t worry about it later. 10 points if you can name the author)

 

 

 

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