2 Random

'I spent my life until now, hiding from those who are different, living in a world where my talents are used to serve the GOOD. But when everything becomes unbearable and we want to give up, the hunt begins...

Am I the only one?'

Autumn, Paris 2020 France

Was I ready for the end of this theater play in which the universe had cast me a role? Would I be prepared for such a test? Or, maybe... My mind was numb from all these years? Was it all in vain? Beyond my anger and my distress, I had a brief glimmer of hope. All this was over and I would soon get away with her...

I took a step, crossed the threshold... My view became confused... my breath had stopped, and in front of me, in a twinkling... I saw a nightmare...

The smell of blood, I had loved so much before, had twisted my heart with sorrow now. The desk was spilled, near a fallen chair. With a prowess, frozen fingers, unbreathing, I pushed the door a bit more to unveil another part of this agony...

A roar arose from my chest and I raged, trying to understand what had really happened...

The light changed, shadows sprang out of nothingness and twined together to formed deeply thick smoke clouds, which gradually morphed into a human form...

I screamed in terror...

Everything disappeared and the darkness reigned again...

At the end of the longest tunnel, I saw the one who had always accompanied me, lurking in the shadows - the predator... It was there... It was approaching... I heard its roar. It was ready. Its prey was at his feet...

I looked around me, bewildered. I saw only my own reflection... It sneered...

Amazonian forest, Summer 2000 French Guiana

"Cessna 123AB, if you are reading this, squawk indent. Cessna 123AB, si vous m'entendez, enclenchez l'identification."

The whisper of the forest was interrupted by an afflicted voice. Nature seemed frozen by this sudden intrusion, and the twittering of the birds ceased.

"MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ici GS-ABC sur 121,5, à tout avion ou contrôle dans mon secteur, ma position est 6° 48' 1" 50.42" Nord et 37° 22' 1" 27.30" Ouest de EBLG, 5000 pieds, 90 nœuds, transpondeur 7700, réacteur hors service, pas de pression huile, demande assistance médicale et anti-incendie après atterrissage d'urgence dans mon secteur."

The voice was meant to sound calm, but the message was not reassuring: "MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY, this is GS-ABC on 121.5, to any aircraft or control in my vicinity, my position is 6° 48' 1" 50.42" North and 37° 22' 1" 27.30" West of EBLG, 5000 feet, 90 knots, Squawk 7700, engine is down, no oil pressure, requesting medical and fire assistance for a crash landing in my vicinity."

Certainly, something was wrong! The captain articulated every word clearly and relentlessly, calling for help in the heavens, hoping that someone would come to rescue him. The transceiver was placed on a rock while the whole team was meeting for a training mission.

Heads turned as if by magic, all at the same time, to the right. The voice continued to call for help and all eyes looked with curiosity at the transponder.

We took it every time we left the camp. Never really knowing why except that it was a part of the equipment. It was never useful to us. We did not need to be saved, we already were! The Colonel told us, at every meeting, about his most important mission in which the hero was... a Walkie-Talkie! This is what we called it, because it allowed itself to be carried instead of talking!

Well, one thing was sure – we followed the rules.

"The transponder! The Walkie-Talkie is speaking—"

"Oh, shit! You're right, Victor," said Thomas.

"As you say—" said Dorian.

"Is it you, sir?"

"Why would it be me, soldier?" I winced watching Thomas with curiosity.

"Because... you always do a little bit too much—" he said, chuckling.

I could not believe it. I looked at him, puzzled.

"What exactly do you mean by a bit too much?"

"With you, each training mission seems real, sir!"

"Well this time, it's not me. It's real, soldier!" I stared at those who had already arrived at the meeting point, and I seized my gun and commanded them: "Get your stuff! All Aboard! Victor?"

"Yes, sir! The distress call comes from the northeast. A plane, I think."

"Do you think, Victor?"

"I know that the aircraft is unable to continue its flight to Cayenne Rochambeau airport, so we will be compelled to host it at our base, in Kourou, sir. We don't have any indication about the number of passengers."

He looked at the scanner. He turned it on quickly and, by connecting it to the computer found the exact location and details on the aircraft. The 3D view of the scanner showed a hologram of the flight path. The calculations appeared on the screen at a high rate of speed, but I knew that the final outcome would be as my intuition was telling me.

"Good—" I pretended to look at my watch; my biological clock was never wrong. "Time is limited! We must be there as soon as possible. After the control tower loses communication and the aircraft disappears from radar, the alarm shall be raised by the Rescue Coordination Center and recovery operations will be immediately triggered. Dorian?"

"Colonel, Sir?"

"Call the base in Kourou! Tell them we are coming! They have to prepare the main track because there are more than 700 passengers on board, and the firefighters, too. We must act quickly, because the plane is in fast descent. We've noted their direction. If the plane does not arrive at the airport, we will recover it in the jungle! Run Dorian—"

"Yes, sir, I will inform the Colonel of the situation!"

"Very well done soldier! Hurry!"

Grinning, I turned facing them, running in reverse.

"I think your virtual mission, gentlemen, has turned into a real Mission!"

They looked at me smiling, I had trained them to prepare for the unknown and I knew that each of them loved the danger. Every one should be well served by this event.