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The Sixteen Page 9
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Page 9
The guy parked the jeep, jumped out and began to walk towards a small door in the side of the ramshackle old building.
‘Follow me, Geordie,’ he said and we went inside.
It was just as decrepit inside as it was on the outside, dirty, rusting and falling to bits. Although I hadn’t known what to expect, I was surprised to see that the building wasn’t empty.
Three men were training together using some form of unarmed combat. They were young and extremely fit looking, with lean, muscular bodies and faces. By the look of them, I guessed that they were all older than me by five or possibly six years. They all wore long trousers and plimsolls and were incredibly agile, moving around making very little noise – not shouting or screaming at one another. I’d never seen anything like it before in my life. They were using real knives and what looked like a bayonet, and seemed to be going through some well-rehearsed routine – although I later discovered this was not the case: they were genuinely trying to catch one another out.
With their dark hair and deeply tanned bodies, two of them looked like locals although the other one was quite pasty looking. Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to me. What if they were terrorists? I was frightened and nervous, and very concerned about what was going to happen to me. I realised that I’d stupidly dropped myself in it. I’d allowed myself to be put in this position despite all the warnings we’d been given. I hadn’t a clue where I was and as they suddenly stopped what they were doing and began to walk towards me, I panicked and turned around to get back out of the door. But the guy from the beach was already putting the bolt in it. I was trapped!
He placed his hand lightly on my shoulder and said in his quiet confident way.
‘Let me introduce you to your future teammates, Geordie.’
Still feeling very apprehensive, I turned back to the three men who were now standing directly behind me.
Seeing them more closely grouped together, I became even more aware of just how powerfully built they were. They gave the impression that nothing could stop them, that they could simply walk through a brick wall if they wanted to. And there was something else too, something very odd about these men – they didn’t appear to blink very often. They kept looking straight at me in a penetrating and direct way, almost as if their gaze was going right through me.
I expected my hand to be crushed by theirs when they shook it, but instead it was the complete opposite – their handshakes were firm but very gentle. Their general air of absolute confidence was overwhelming and I felt totally out of place standing next to them, like a cabbage in the middle of a strawberry field!
‘Hi, Geordie, we know all about you!’ the slightly shorter one in the middle said.
Well, I thought, if that’s the case what the hell am I doing here?
‘Just call me Dynamo,’ he went on, then smiling he stepped forward and shook my hand. ‘This is Spot and that’s Chalky.’ They both looked at me intently as they also shook my hand.
‘Nice to have you with us, Geordie,’ Chalky said and grinned.
The one called Spot merely took my hand and winked.
They spoke quietly and confidently and to my surprise, their accents were pure English public school, very calm and very precise.
‘Spot, bring Geordie a cup of tea up,’ the guy from the beach said, indicating for me to follow him as he led the way up a short flight of wooden steps and into a room at the top. As I followed him, I glanced around at the area in which they had been training and saw what looked like several tailor’s dummies, the heads of which appeared to be held on by small springs attached to the necks. I had no idea what they would be used for, nor the several old wooden doors standing against one wall with knives stuck into them.
Dynamo and Chalky had now quietly returned to the middle of the floor where they stood surrounded by several turnips suspended by strings at shoulder level from the beams above. It was all very strange; I was fascinated and very curious to find out more.
At the top of the stairs, I entered a very small, dingy room with a table and two high-backed wooden chairs stuck in the middle of it. An empty window frame, with only a few broken fragments of glass remaining, formed part of the wall between this room and their training area beyond. Through this opening, I saw that they had now resumed their training (although why anyone would choose this dump to train in was completely beyond me). What seemed even stranger was that the British Army would be using such an out-of-the-way, run-down and decrepit place as this for a training area.
It was fascinating to watch them. I couldn’t tear my eyes away and itched to be able to join in and learn what they were doing. I was so engrossed that at first I didn’t realise I’d been spoken to until I felt a light tap on my shoulder.
‘Do you want this tea, Geordie?’ the guy from the beach said, smiling. ‘Why don’t you sit down here?’
I’d been so absorbed in watching Dynamo and Chalky I hadn’t even noticed that Spot had been in the room. I sat in the chair the guy indicated, but immediately jumped to my feet again as I heard several loud slapping noises coming from the training area. Looking through the window frame, I saw that the turnips were now swinging about wildly on their strings. Some of them were split in half, while others had huge chunks missing out of them. They had apparently been used as targets yet I could see no obvious weapons that could have caused such damage to them. Spot had now re-joined Dynamo and Chalky, but the two of them didn’t appear to have moved from where I’d last seen them standing. For the life of me, I couldn’t think what could have inflicted such an amount of destruction in the split second I’d looked away and what it must have taken to demolish all those turnips. I sat down again and looked at the guy opposite me in utter amazement.
‘Impressed?’ he asked calmly.
‘Yeah. But how did they do it? What on earth destroyed those turnips?’ I asked him.
‘Never mind that now, you’ll find out later. By the way, call me Ken.’
The table we sat at was bare except for my cup of tea. It appeared to be very old with some of the knots pushed out of the wood, and there were marks on it where knives had scratched the surface and several names had been carved into it.
‘You obviously realise that things like this don’t just happen overnight. This hasn’t just been a random decision. We’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get you here,’ Ken said, ‘and a considerable amount of time has been spent observing you before selection. I don’t want to have to go into an explanation as to how or why we arrived at that decision, but be aware that we don’t do anything without a very good reason,’ he said slowly, emphasising his words, then paused briefly before continuing: ‘So, just accept it, Geordie. There is one very important thing that you must understand – nothing of what you see or hear can ever be repeated. Officially, this place does not exist.’
Somehow, I didn’t think so! I thought. This has got to be a dream or maybe a nightmare!
‘But why am I here?’ I asked him, still confused.
‘Well, as Dynamo rightly said, we know all about you, Geordie. We’ve been watching you for a long time now and have brought you here because we think you have the necessary ability and skills to join us. With the right training, we know you will become just what we are looking for.’
Now I knew I was dreaming – me have the same skills as these guys? He had to be joking.
‘I need to explain some things to you and as I have a lot to say we are going to be here for quite a while,’ Ken went on.
I noticed that it was very quiet now. There was no noise coming from any activity in the training area outside the room, which had apparently ceased and the men had gone, although I hadn’t heard them leave. Now Ken and I appeared to be completely alone. I presumed Spot had brought in the large tea urn that stood in the corner of the room; as he’d said, it looked as though we were going to be here for some time.
Ken was speaking to me again. ‘Now concentrate on what I’m saying.’
‘Look, Ken, wha
t about my truck?’
‘Forget about it, Geordie, it will be exactly where you left it when you return,’ he reassured me. ‘We’ll make sure you’re back in plenty of time; your truck will be waiting, your papers will all be in order and no one will suspect that you have been anywhere other than where you should have been. Trust me.’
I silently prayed that he was telling the truth. I’d be in a lot of trouble otherwise.
‘I see the stammer has gone – we knew our little plan would work!’ he added with a wry smile.
‘Eh! So, it was you lot! How on earth did you manage that?’ I’d been right to think there was something strange going on, it was no wonder Lieutenant Stevens hadn’t been able to understand the orders. But Christ, just who were these people and how were they able to arrange stuff like that?
‘Forget about it, it’s just not important,’ Ken said.
He sat chatting to me in a calm, friendly way for a while, asking all sorts of questions about me and then about my sense of duty and loyalty to my country. I answered him as best as I could but mainly just sat at the table feeling very uncomfortable, not really knowing what to expect next.
Ken rested his arms in front of him on the table and sat quietly watching me for a few moments, then he leaned towards me and stared straight into my eyes. It was unnerving; I couldn’t meet his gaze and kept looking away from him in embarrassment. Without taking his eyes off mine, he took a coin out of his pocket and started spinning it on the table top, staring at me the whole time.
‘We have all experienced fear at some time in our lives. It can be a real problem and get you killed. When you are confronted by someone who wants to kill you, you have to be in complete control at all times. If fear gets in the way you will surely die. So, Geordie, if you listen to me carefully and concentrate on what I am saying, then I am sure we can do something about it! Don’t ask how, just concentrate. Are you afraid of dying?’ he asked, still playing with the coin, his manner totally relaxed and casual.
I couldn’t understand where all this was leading to.
‘I’m sure you won’t have heard of the “One Step Beyond”, Geordie, but this is a process by which we make you look at life in a totally different way. We hope this will give you the ability to cope with anything and to make sure that you never suffer from fear again.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I said. It was true – I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.
‘Neither did I, Geordie, neither did I,’ he said, his gaze on me intense and direct.
‘I can see that you’re shocked by all of this, aren’t you?’
‘You can say that again!’
‘Do you want to go ahead?’
‘Yes, I do. I don’t quite know what I’ve let myself in for but I’m intrigued by what little I’ve seen so far and I’m not backing out now.’
‘That’s the way, lad. I thought that’s what you would say. Right, let’s get on with it!’
He began to talk about life in general, the effects of getting old and how soon I could die. On and on throughout the rest of that day and into the night he kept repeating similar things. He emphasised that one had to have a definite purpose for doing anything, even for living. Hour after hour he spent convincing me that life wasn’t worth living. I didn’t understand what he was doing or what was happening; he was driving me crazy.
‘What’s the point of going on?’ he kept asking. ‘At the end of the day you are going to die, no matter what. Life is pointless, futile. In the end you will grow old, and you can’t stop it.’
To add emphasis to what he was saying, he produced a folder and showed me pictures from it of old people, sick people, people with deformities, pointing out the inevitability of it all.
After hours of this I was utterly confused, my head hurt and my body felt numb. I was disorientated and wanted things to end there and then but he just kept on spinning that damn coin. He eyeballed me constantly – telling me over and over that life wasn’t worth living, his eyes never leaving me for a second. I hardly knew where I was, I was so tired and my eyelids were so heavy, I could barely keep my eyes open but he just kept on and on. His face was just a blur on the other side of the table.
Suddenly he stopped spinning the coin and put his hand beneath the table. He drew out a service revolver, which he then placed directly in front of me with the handle pointing towards me.
‘This will solve your problems,’ he said very quietly and pushed it towards me.
It all made sense. He was right. I was only eighteen but didn’t want to live just to grow old and sick. Tears were pouring down my face, blurring my vision even more; I could barely make out the gun in front of me. I reached out and placed my hand on top of it then picked it up, it felt so heavy. I was shaking; the gun seemed to weigh a ton. Ken was staring directly at me and I couldn’t look away.
Sobbing, I placed the gun at the side of my face and he smiled slowly. I squeezed the trigger but nothing happened, my finger just couldn’t seem to exert enough pressure to pull it. Slowly Ken reached out, grasped my wrist and gently took the gun out of my hand.
‘Don’t be stupid, Geordie,’ he said softly.
Picking up the gun and my cup he walked towards the urn, filled the cup with tea and placed it in front of me as he put the gun back under the table.
Although I hadn’t been physically knocked about, it certainly felt as though I had. I was utterly exhausted and couldn’t focus properly. I felt as though I was in a dream, or a nightmare. Although I could see his lips moving the words seemed to be delayed, reaching my ears seconds later. I wanted to sleep but he kept on talking to me, telling me to drink my tea. He was completely relaxed, sitting back in his chair drinking, no longer staring at me. Gradually my head began to clear again and I relaxed.
Then, when I least expected it, his whole tack changed. He leaned forward again, placed his elbows on the table and looked directly at me.
‘You just can’t give up, Geordie. Yes, you are going to die, we all are, it’s inevitable but your mother didn’t bring you into this world for nothing,’ he went on quietly. ‘You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?’
I was totally confused now. ‘But you just said that living was a waste of time!’
‘Yes, I did. But look at it this way; we don’t know how long we have so what the hell have you got to lose? You were brought here for a purpose, Geordie, you are very important to us. The things that you are about to embark on would be a nightmare to any ordinary soldier. You can leave now if you want but if you stay, by the end of this programme you will not fear anything! We understand that you will want to tell people what has happened here, but no one will ever believe you. Most of what you have just gone through you won’t even be able to remember clearly.’
On and on throughout the rest of the night he kept telling me about how important life was. This was completely opposite to what he had been telling me before. I was so confused and desperately tired. I couldn’t understand how any of this was going to get rid of my fear.
‘Let me try to explain, Geordie. Fear is a natural phenomenon found in both the animal and the human world. It is an inbuilt process that all living things are born with in order to cope with and survive in their surroundings. When danger is perceived the body floods the bloodstream with the hormone adrenalin. The effects of adrenalin prepare the body for flight or fight or to run around like a headless chicken, or you simply just freeze on the spot. It affects everyone in a different way but it does not always help us to survive. The aim of the One Step Beyond is to control fear, give us the ability to control this function and prevent this process from taking place.
‘Well I don’t think you will be frightened to take risks or fear death any longer because of what you have just been through, and you will find this very hard to believe,’ Ken now told me. ‘You will know that death is inevitable but because you will not be frightened by death you will have no fear of its inevitability; it will be just a game to you and the gam
e is to stay alive. You don’t know what – if anything – is beyond death.’
He continued: ‘So you might as well enjoy life to the full. You will grow older, but you can control your ageing by keeping fit and active, staying young in mind and body, not smoking or drinking, keeping an open mind. If you get rid of the fear of death itself, prevent things happening to you, control and handle situations, then you won’t be frightened to do things. It is the fear of death that holds us back. Death is still inevitable but how you die can be controlled.’
Although I still didn’t fully understand, I began to see the truth in what he was saying. He had spent hours breaking me down and now he was building me back up. Something very strange had happened to me, as if overnight I had suddenly grown up. I felt that I had passed their test, but he made no mention of that and the next thing I remembered was being woken by the clatter of pots being brought into the room. Lifting my head from the table where I had fallen asleep, I saw Spot, Chalky and Dynamo carrying food containers into the room, which they put on to the table in front of me. I felt dazed and unsure of my surroundings.
‘Come on, Geordie, you have done a lot of work in the last four days,’ Dynamo said.
‘Eh? Did I hear you right?’ I blurted out. But he just stood there with a huge smile on his face and kept on pouring out some tea.
‘Surely that can’t be possible! Four days?’ I queried in total confusion.
‘Oh yes Geordie, believe me.’
‘But four days, here? Here in this room you mean?’
Pausing from what he was doing he now turned fully towards me and, still smiling, said, ‘Well no, not exactly. The first day you were in this room. But the rest of the time you were down there training with us.’ He nodded towards their training area beyond the broken window.