For Your Eyes Only

Dr. Penelope Catchpole

It was mid-afternoon and you were working away in your laboratory at the University when there was a knock at the door…

“A visitor to see you Dr Catchpole” announced the familiar voice of Mr Jones the elderly porter. He ushered in a tall man, immaculately dressed, who smiled sardonically.

“Hello Penny old girl – how’s life in the lab treating you?”

It was Edward Merryweather - once a suitor of yours before your love of your work came to dominate your life to the exclusion of all else. It had been almost a decade since you last saw Edward though he barely looked any older.

The last you heard from other friends at the University was that he had drifted for a while in different jobs and then begun working for the Government as some sort of scientific advisor. He pretty much disappeared from the social scene he was once such an active part of.

After a few brief social amenities Edward soon got down to business. “You have built up quite a reputation in the field of human cell research so I would greatly welcome your opinion on a sample I recently received.”

“I must ask that you keep this in the strictest confidence and that you examine it immediately, as the sample will deteriorate extremely rapidly once opened” he explained.

He then handed you a carefully wrapped package containing a large jar of crushed ice with a small glass vial contained within.  The vial was three quarters full of a very dark red liquid – so dark as to appear almost black, except where it swilled at the edges as you held it. Just for a second as you first looked at the vial, you thought you glimpsed a flash of phosphorescence from its dark depths. You blinked your eyes and it was gone – it must have been a trick of the light…

“I’ll leave you to examine it now but take great care of it I beg you – we only have two such samples. I shall call again at mid-day tomorrow to discuss your findings”, and with those parting words Edward was gone.

You quickly drew out a cc of the liquid and prepared a glass slide for your powerful microscope. On first glance it did appear to be normal human blood, although unusually high in its proportion of red corpuscles thus giving rise to the liquids dark colour. However, as you examined the structure of the individual cells a nasty sense of familiarity came over you.

The red corpuscles were heavily modified and seemed to be capable of carrying a far greater supply of oxygen than normal human cells – the individual from whom the blood was drawn would have had strength and stamina far exceeding that of a normal man.

The white blood cells were also greatly divergent from the norm – they appeared to be far more effective than normal which would confer incredible immunity to disease and infection.

Finally, after further chemical analysis of the blood you determined that it contained levels of blood clotting factor nearly ten times higher than it should be. In a normal person this would lead to a fatal embolism within minutes, but for some reason it didn’t seem to be causing a problem in the sample, and the benefits would be astounding. Even the most terrible wounds would barely bleed!

This confirmed your earlier suspicion – you had worked on similar modified cells before. It was during the Great War - France had been invaded, and the Germans had occupied Paris. You were approached by a German scientist – a Dr. Voltzmann – who had read your published papers and was very impressed with your work. He offered you a choice; that you could either be sent to one of the labour camps, or you could assist him in some research that he was conducting. Of course, you didn’t want to become one of those poor unfortunates (you had heard some nasty rumours regarding what went on in labour camps), and Dr. Volzmann’s offer was very generous. You agreed to help him (trying to convince yourself that any form of scientific research was ultimately for the benefit of all), and soon after began studying the impact of potential modification of human cells.

It had been a rather confusing project – you soon realised that yours was only one of a number of teams all working on separate aspects of one large project. Within six months you had completed the research to the great excitement of your employers who gave you an additional large bonus payment.

A few months later, with the help of the French resistance, you managed to escape back to England, but your shame at being in the employ of the enemy ensured that you never told a soul of what happened.

Back to the present - the sample in your possession was far more advanced than your original work – it was obviously the work of a number of projects combined.

The next day when Edwards returned, you swiftly explained your findings, and it was plain that he was greatly disturbed by what you told him. “I think its time to level with you Penny – that sample was smuggled out of a German lab – certain extremist groups in that country have recently seized power and it would seem that they are exploring methods to enhance the human body for military applications” he said earnestly.

“As you may know I work for the government – but what you wont know is that I work for a secret organisation known as Pegasus – we protect Britain from certain irregular types of threat, such as the group who are behind this sample.”

“We have a tip-off that this group has a team in France and we are planning a raid in a few days time to intercept them. I would like you to go with them – you’ll be protected by regular troops but I need you to get as many samples as possible for analysis. How about it?”

Seeing a chance for redemption – if only to yourself, you agreed without hesitation.

“A car will come to pick you up tomorrow. Have everything ready that you think you might need.”

The following morning, a car pulls up outside the laboratory. Approaching it, you are met by a man in military uniform introducing himself as Lance-Corporal Montague. He informs you that your destination is confidential, but that the meeting he will take you to is of the utmost importance. You climb into the back of the car, which is sumptuously upholstered. You pour yourself a drink from the decanter and sip as the Lance-Corporal whisks you through the familiar back streets. The alcohol has a strange musty smell and a curious taste. You feel a little flushed, and loosen your collar. You start to feel a little dizzy, and you lose your grip on the whiskey tumbler. The last thing you hear is Lance-Corporal Montague telling you “Not to worry”, before you slip into unconsciousness.

You awaken in what appears to be an airfield. You notice the high security surrounding the place. Dog patrols pace their way about the perimeter, and 2 tall observation towers look down upon you. Lance-Corporal Montague opens the car door and apologises for drugging you. He then directs you towards the location of the meeting.

You enter a room designated as ‘BRIEFING’ with some trepidation and take a seat. Hushed whispers are being exchanged by some of the assembled people here, but these are quickly ended as an authoritative voice booms behind you, “For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Major Frederick Adams” A tall, well-built man strides towards the front of the room and takes his place behind a lectern. “Most of you won’t know why you are here. I will now explain why it has been necessary to take extreme measures to bring you here.”

“Lights” The Major orders to a man at the back of the room. A second later, the lights are dimmed, and your attention is drawn towards a screen to the side of the Major. Another officer hands you a dossier, and switches on a small reading light in front of you.

“Recently, one of our operatives in Northern France intercepted a message. This message was heavily encrypted, but was decoded by our Intelligence and Logistics department. Ladies and gentlemen, the contents of this message are very worrying. You can find the letter in the first page of your dossier.”

Mein Fuhrer,

The first results of Project Uber-Mensch are very encouraging. We have conducted a number of field tests, and save for a few difficulties that we must iron out, I believe that we are nearing successful completion of the project. It will bring to the end seven years of effort – seven years well spent when you consider the superiority it will give us over anyone who stands in our way. I will of course keep you informed of any progress.

Glory to the Fatherland.

“For a while, we have suspected that the Germans have been up to something. And now we know. Or rather we don’t know. For those of you who don’t speak German, ‘Uber-Mensch’ translates as ‘Super-soldier’. What is ‘Project Super-Soldier’? Why are the Germans in Northern France? These are the questions that I want you to answer for me. Therefore, I am sending you to the Ardennes region on a reconnaissance mission. The mission will be under the command of Lieutenant Savage. I want you to liaise with our operative – Captain Mason-Wickes, and find out what the hell the Germans are up to.”

“Given the time critical nature of this mission, you will be flying out at 1100 hours. We would have preferred to go at night, but there is a scheduled civilian flight over the area which we will take the place of in order to not raise suspicion. If you read the second document in your dossier, you will see that the area of France that you are going to is an Alpha Sensitive area. This means that you should treat it as being behind enemy lines. I have been informed by Central Command that we will maintain a stance of plausible deniability if you are discovered or captured. We will not be sending reinforcements should this happen.” These last sentences send a shiver down your spine as you grasp the enormity of this statement.

“A note to the civilians amongst you - you are expected to follow the orders of the officer in charge at all times and obey the chain of command. You have of course, all signed the Official Secrets Act prior to this briefing, so I do not need to remind you that everything you witness during the course of this mission is NOT to be disclosed to anyone outside Pegasus Division on penalty of the harshest consequences. One final thing – due to the nature of the situation, Central Command has designated this as a ‘Damocles Imperative’ mission - that is a mission which could have worldwide ramifications.”

“That is all, ladies and gentlemen. Good luck and God Speed. God save the King.”

The lights go back on, and you are led out of the room to a bunkhouse.

The evening meal is a strange affair. There is a marked difference between the civilians, such as yourself, and the members of the armed forces. You and your peers are subdued, probably as you contemplate what lies ahead, whilst the military personnel have an excited buzz about them. You keep pretty much to yourself during the meal, but at the end, Lieutenant Savage approaches you and introduces himself. His confident manner and assuredness is somewhat comforting, and the aching in your stomach subsides.

After the meal, the soldiers make themselves busy preparing for the mission. You and the other civilians are led into a training room to learn how to parachute. This was never on the menu! The session is lead by Sergeant Johnson, an infectiously enthusiastic man – although you are slightly worried that parachuting boils down to jumping out of a plane and hoping for the best!

The rest of the evening is your own, and you decide that your time will be best spent getting a bit of sleep. In truth though, the events of the past 24 hours make it almost impossible. However, it seems as if your head has barely touched the pillow before you are woken by a private with a nice hot cup of tea. You dress quickly – the air is cold this morning and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The morning consists of a final briefing on the ‘theatre of operations’, and then the call comes in that the mission is ‘GO’. Once everyone is ready, you are lead out onto the airstrip where a twin-engined plane is warming up on the runway. Major Adams stands by the door, and gives each of you a sturdy handshake and a “Good Luck” as you board the plane. Sergeant Johnson makes sure that everyone is strapped in tightly before heading to the cockpit. As he returns and fastens his own seatbelt, the low hum of the engines increases in pitch and you feel the aircraft begin to edge forward. The plane speeds up and then suddenly you feel the ground drop away as you become airborne. You glance around you – your comrades seem to be either deep in contemplation, sleeping or praying. The hours pass, and you find the drone of the engines strangely hypnotic and relaxing.

You are woken from your reverie by a harsh buzz, and a red light illuminates above the aircraft door. The army personnel unstrap themselves, and then Sergeant Johnson sets about releasing everyone else. Before you rise out of your seat, he clips you onto a guy-line that runs towards the door. Once everyone is safely attached to the line, he pulls the door handle, and opens the cabin to the cold rushing air outside. Your breath is taken away by the conditions outside, as the Lieutenant performs one last check. The buzz sounds again, and the light turns to green.

“This is it chaps. Good luck!” He pats the first in line on the shoulder, and one by one they all throw themselves out of the plane. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and look out of the door at the horizon. The sun is already beginning to set. You jump out into the cold unknown…