Max Arena Page 5
The Chief of Staff to the President of the United States fixed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in his gaze and said, ‘All in the name of peace, my friend.’
‘Sure,’ the Chairman said as he turned for the door, a wry smile slicing across his face. ‘We wouldn’t want some jumped up little backwater country like Australia out showing America when it comes to saving the human race now would we?’
‘Just get me that intel, General. Pronto.’
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs let his smile harden as he opened the door, his eyes steeling over. The two men locked gazes for a moment just long enough to tighten the tension in the room and then the General was gone. The Chief of Staff watched the door close and then turned back to his desk and the photos strewn across it. His eyes bore into the face. He would have this man. He would own this man and then after he had his secrets, he would kill him.
9:57am, 2nd July (the next day). Kris
Kris Blake sat alone at the corner table inside the cafe, her abandoned cappuccino steaming away untouched in front of her, while she methodically slid the screen of her iPad upwards to read another news article. The cafe was essentially empty with herself as the only paying customer and one other person, the owner, who sat quietly behind the counter on his lonesome, reading his own iPad.
The sound of the front door opening startled the owner into action, prompting him to jump up and grab a menu, ready to dash out and greet his second customer. Meanwhile, Kris remained transfixed to her iPad. The newcomer looked around the room and spied Kris, then walked across the room to where she sat.
‘Hey, good lookin’,’ the newcomer said brightly.
The spoken words raised Kris from her reading and she looked up, a smile immediately adorning her face.
‘Hey, yourself’ Kris replied. ‘What are you doing here, Elsa? I thought you were on holidays?’
‘Yeah, we were,’ Elsa said, pulling out a chair to sit down, ‘but this whole alien invasion thing and the end of the world kind of got in the way.’
‘Hmph. Aliens. Always showing up at the wrong time.’
Elsa smiled back and then saw a shadow appear by her side.
‘Good morning,’ the owner of the cafe said, failing miserably to hide the over eagerness in his voice. ‘Can I get you something?’
‘Ah, sure,’ Elsa replied, smiling back at him. ‘Latte, please, and...one of those apple and cinnamon muffins you’ve got there?’
‘Of course,’ he replied quickly. ‘Won’t be long.’
Elsa turned back to Kris and found her smiling again.
‘That was charitable,’ Kris said. ‘Normally this place is chock full, but I don’t think he’s going to get much business today. I don’t think any of his staff even turned up.’
‘Are you working today?’ Kris asked.
‘Yeah, but not yesterday.’
‘Not yesterday? Why not? Monday’s normally your busiest day in the gym isn’t it?’
‘Yep. Normally, but I doubt anyone turned up. Most people probably stayed home like me just in case things got a bit hairy out in public.’
‘What do you mean hairy?’
Kris tilted her head slightly askew and replied, ‘Haven’t you been watching the news?’
‘No,’ Elsa replied, shaking her head. ‘Long story. We’ve been a bit busy since the, you know, the alien thing came up. We had to ditch our holiday pretty quickly yesterday morning and haven’t really had time to stay on top of things.’
‘Well, you’ve got plenty of catching up to do then,’ Kris said, closing the lid of her iPad cover and placing it on the table next to her. ‘As soon as this alien news broke on Sunday night, the crime rate ratcheted up. Break-ins. Assaults. Arson. Lots of random stuff, so there was no way I was going out yesterday, busy day in the gym or not.’
‘And what brought you out today?’
‘Have you ever seen so many police on the streets? The Prime Minister sure lived up to his word and if we ever get a chance to vote for Joseph Tollsen again, he’s got my tick.’
‘The Prime Minister? What did he do?’
‘Wow,’ Kris said, eyebrows raised. ‘You really are out of the loop. He held a joint press conference late yesterday afternoon with all the state premiers and promised to fix this spike in crime by flooding the streets with police and voila, the streets are flooded with police and the crime rate’s back down again. Still a bit dodgy, but safe enough for me to come back to work.’
Elsa let her gaze wander away as she recalled their conversation with Prime Minister Tollsen yesterday and his excusing himself to attend to something important. Now she knew where he had gone. He had gone out and made a promise to keep everyone safe, just like the promise he had made to her and Max. Elsa nodded silently as she felt her trust for the man deepen even further. Prime Minister Joseph Tollsen was a man of his word.
Movement next to her pulled Elsa from her reverie. A plate hosting an over-sized muffin appeared on the table in front of her, followed by a lightly steaming latte in a tall ceramic mug. Elsa turned and smiled up at the cafe owner.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
The owner smiled back, a hint of something deeper than gratitude behind the expression, almost like he was just happy to see a smiling face let alone a customer in his empty cafe. Then Elsa realised her perception of what was happening around her was unique. Her and Max’s perspective on the situation was from the inside looking out, knowing and understanding the truth of the emerging global crisis, but out here in the public it was completely different.
Everyday people everywhere were experiencing this affair in ways she had not imagined. Yesterday, Kris had stayed home out of fear for her safety, but had then been “rescued” by the integrity of a politician. Meanwhile, the cafe owner was just happy to see a friendly face, with Elsa’s smile as therapeutic as the comforting words of a skilled councillor.
Elsa needed to start paying attention to everyone around her. Society was on the brink and if it deteriorated any further, even if Max won in the arena, the world might already be too far gone to save.
‘So, if you’re here to do a gym session,’ Kris began, bringing Elsa back to the present, ‘that muffin’s not going to be your friend.’
‘Oh, no,’ Elsa said, waving the comment away and breaking the warm muffin in half, releasing a faint bloom of steam. ‘I’m not here to go to the gym. I came here hoping to talk to you actually.’
‘To me?’ Kris queried, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. ‘What about?’
‘I need your help,’ Elsa said directly, also picking up her latte and fixing her gaze on Kris, looking over the rim of her mug, ‘and in return, I can help you.’
Kris paused, her response coming carefully. ‘Are you in trouble?’
‘Sort of,’ Elsa replied, ‘but first let me tell you how I can help you and then we can talk about you returning the favour.’
‘Okay,’ Kris answered slowly, leaning back in her chair. ‘Why do I need help?’
‘Protection.’
‘Why do I need protection?’
‘Well, like you said, the crime rate is up because of this alien invasion stuff and I can offer you protection from all that. I can keep you safe all the way through this thing, right up until the arena duel on New Year’s Eve and maybe after that too if needed. The best of protection too. Not just a hideout or something, but real protection. Full military detail. The real deal. As good as the Prime Minister gets. In fact, exactly what the Prime Minister gets.’
Kris squinted back. ‘Okay, so let’s assume you know what you’re talking about and I get this protection, as good as the Prime Minister gets,’ she said slowly, ‘but what do I have to do for you?’
‘This is going to sound weird,’ Elsa said, ‘but I need you to train my husband. I need you to be his personal trainer for the next six months and I mean full on training. Weights. Stamina. Functional fitness. The lot and multiple sessions every day and in whatever creative ways you can imagine. If you can do that for
me, I can guarantee the best protection you can imagine, regardless of how bad things might get.’
Kris paused then said, ‘You’re right. That does sound weird. The world’s going to hell and you’ll keep me safe if I train your husband? None of that makes any sense.’
Elsa nodded and put her coffee down on the table. ‘I knew this would be too hard to explain, so let me just show you what’s going on here.’
‘Show me what?’ Kris asked as she watched Elsa pull out her phone and quickly type in a message. ‘Who are you texting?’
Elsa finished typing the message and put the phone down. ‘Watch the door,’ she said, flicking her head sideways.
Kris snapped her gaze up to the entry as it swung open and in walked two men in cotton trousers and polo shirts. They weren’t big men, but they were not small either and then it slammed into her and she sat bolt upright. Both men had gun holsters strapped around their torsos. They were armed!
The cafe owner instinctively jumped up from his seat behind the counter with a menu in hand, only to be greeted in return by one of the men holding up a hand that very clearly indicated they were not there to dine. The owner froze, slipped his gaze down onto their weapons and then slowly retreated back to his stool, like a tabby cat confronted with a full blown lion.
‘It’s okay, Kris,’ Elsa said. ‘The guys with the guns are with me. They’re friends.’
Kris continued to eye off both men as they scanned the room and then split up to position themselves on opposite sides of the interior, their hands clasped together in front of them.
‘They’re really with you?’ Kris asked, her eyes still wide.
‘Yes, they are,’ Kris answered. ‘These guys are part of the protection I was talking about. I know it’s confronting, but they’re here to keep us safe, so try not to worry about them.’
Kris eased herself back in her chair, still eyeing off the armed newcomers. ‘Easy for you to say,’ she said. ‘Is this what you needed to show me. Your armed escort?’
Elsa shook her head. ‘No. There’s something else. You know the images of that face that have been scratched into the Himalayas and the Sahara?’
‘Yeah,’ Kris replied. ‘Of course I do. They’re all over the internet.’
‘Pull one of them up on your iPad.’
‘Why?’ Kris asked, her squint returning.
‘It’s time for the main part of the show and how I explain what I’m talking about.’
Kris eyed Elsa from across the table and then flicked her gaze back to the two silent guards at each end of the room. Slowly, she retrieved her iPad to open an internet browser. Searching under images, she easily found a plethora of pictures depicting the mysterious stranger’s face scribed onto various landscapes around the world.
‘Okay?’ Kris said. ‘Which image do you want?’
‘Whatever one is clearest.’
Kris scrolled the screen up a few flicks and then tapped on one of the little pictures.
‘Okay. Now what?’ Kris asked, looking up to see Elsa tapping a button on her phone.
‘Look down at your image and then watch the door again,’ Elsa said simply, picking up her latte and leaning back in her own chair, taking a slow sip, her gaze locked onto Kris over the rim of the mug.
Kris turned her attention back to the door. Silence filled the room. She shot a couple of sideways glances at the two burly men while she waited. Elsa continued to take long sips of her drink, not shifting her gaze from Kris. Then the door opened and Kris flicked her eyes back up in that direction as in walked another man.
In contrast, this man was solidly built in his shorts and t-shirt, but he also looked familiar. Very familiar, almost like she had just been looking at him and then, like a wave surging up onto the beach, recognition built. Kris’ eyes widened. The wave surged higher and as it peaked, Kris’ brain locked onto the detail of the face.
Quickly she glanced down at her iPad and the wave crashed and broke. The man in the doorway and the image on the screen shared the same face. It was him. It was the stranger the aliens had come to fight and he was standing right here in front of her.
‘Kris?’ Elsa said gently. ‘I’d like you to meet my husband Max and yes, he’s the one whose face is scratched into the north face of Mount Everest.’
Kris stared glassy eyed at Max, her face blank and her mouth open. Max cast a glance down at Elsa who looked back up and waved for him to sit down next to her. As Max sat down, Kris’ stare followed him.
‘Kris, I need you to...,’ Elsa started.
‘Why you?’ Kris cut in, her eyes large.
Max held Elsa’s boggling gaze for a moment and then looked sideways at Elsa who tried to rescue him.
‘Kris, I need to explain...’ Elsa started again.
‘Why do the aliens want you?’ Kris asked, her entire focus squared on Max through her wide eyes.
Elsa opened her mouth to speak, but Max laid a hand on her thigh. She looked across at her husband and he nodded. She closed her mouth.
Turning back to Kris, Max said, ‘Kris, I’m not ready to tell you that. Let’s be clear. My wife trusts you and that means I trust you, but I don’t know you nearly well enough to trust you with that particular secret, yet.’
Kris stayed silent, searching Max’s face for something. Then she leaned back in her chair, her composure returning. Looking down at the table, she recollected herself, the silence in the cafe almost overwhelmed by the turning cogs of her mind.
‘Okay,’ she finally said, shaking her head slightly. ‘There’s a lot going on here, so let me get this straight? You want me to train you and in return, you’ll give me protection up until you go into the arena?’
‘Yes,’ Elsa said, resuming control of the conversation. Max sat back a little. ‘The same protection the Prime Minister gets.’
‘What does that mean? The same as the Prime Minister gets?’
‘You could say Joseph Tollsen is our sponsor. That’s who these guys are,’ Elsa replied, waving her hand at the two burly men inside the cafe with them. They’re from the Prime Minister’s own personal detail and they’re assigned to protecting Max and I and the kids and if you help us, they’ll protect you too.’
Kris shook her head. ‘Hold on. I’m really struggling with this. Fine you’ll protect me, but why do you want me to train Max? Max needs combat training. Weapons training and all that sort of stuff. I don’t do any of that. I do basic functional fitness, so surely, the Prime Minister can give you someone out of the army or the SAS that would be better for what he needs? Why me?’
Max leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. ‘We trust you, Kris. Simple as that. Elsa and I don’t make friends easily. We never have and we’ve never needed to. We have each other and our children and that’s enough for us, but like I said, we trust you.’
‘But I make Elsa do a few burpees and squat jumps. That’s all. You’re a fit looking guy, Max. You don’t need burpees. You need gladiator stuff and you won’t get that from me.’
‘Kris, believe me when I say I know how to fight. I don’t need you to teach me how to defend myself or use a weapon. It’s in my blood. Don’t ask why. It just is. As for being fit? Yes, I’m naturally pretty fit, but pretty fit is nowhere near good enough for what I need to do. I need someone to make me faster, stronger and just plain better and Elsa thinks you can do that. You’ve done it for her and she thinks you can do it for me, so Kris, we’re asking you to help us because right now, you’re the only person in the world we can trust with this, so how about it?’
Kris sat mute. The cogs in her mind had ratcheted up. Max leaned back. Elsa looked on. Several seconds of silence stretched out and then Kris spoke again.
‘Alright, maybe I can train you,’ she said, ‘but there’s one thing you have to do for me first.’
‘What’s that?’ Max asked.
‘You said you think you’re pretty fit? Is that right?’ she asked.
Max nodded.
‘Well,
’ Kris replied, ‘prove it.’
* * *
Ten minutes later, Max, Elsa and Kris were walking down towards the other end of the shopping village to Kris’ gym, a six man security detail surrounding them. Peter led the group, his eyes never stationary, while his team walked equally spaced at a few metres distance around the civilian trio. The entourage crossed paths with only two other people on their short walk, causing each individual to shy back against the wall to let them pass.
Within the confines of the security ring, Max now carried a black sports bag in one hand and Elsa’s hand in the other. Just in front of them, Kris walked stiffly along, her eyes darting back and forth between Peter and the members of his team that walked in her field of vision.
When they reached the front door of the gym, Peter stopped and turned, the rest of his team stopping simultaneously with him, maintaining their formation. Peter indicated for Kris to open the door. Retrieving a swipe card, she deactivated the lock.
One of Peter’s team members immediately reached forward and opened the door, allowing Peter to briskly step inside, a second team member slipping in behind him. Everyone else stayed put. As the silent seconds ticked by, Kris darted her gaze around the ring of remaining security. Then the man holding the door open twitched his head slightly as a message crackled in his ear piece.
‘It’s clear,’ he said. ‘You can go in.’ Kris paused. ‘You can go in now, please.’
The tone stirred Kris into action and she stepped inside. Max let Elsa go in next and then followed suit. The four remaining guards stayed outside to take up sentry positions, their presence as nondescript as tanks parked on a regular suburban street.
Once inside, Kris noticed that Peter and the other guard had positioned themselves strategically on opposing sides of the gym. The interior was not overly large and right now it was completely void of any other patrons. One third of the space stood filled with an orderly collection of cardio equipment; treadmills, rowing machines, cross-trainers and bike machines all lined up in rows, shoulder to shoulder. The second third of the space hosted an assortment of weights machines comprising pulleys and stacks of rectangular slabs of grey iron, clearly designed to work every inch of the body. The final third of the gym was reserved for free weights. An expansive, floor to ceiling mirror filled the length of the wall with a rubberised mat stretched across the floor in front of it. A double rack of dumbbells and barbells stood against the mirror and a row of benches lined the centre of the mat. All in all, it was a pretty standard, contemporary gym. Neat, tidy and functional.