The Hawaiian Special Forces

Chapter 26

Aoloa looked around his new room. He had a bed, sheets, television, internet, and a shiny collar full of explosives. The internet was critical for him to be able to stay in contact with Hokulani. She'd negotiated that, on the basis she needed assurance that he was still alive to avoid causing them problems. He, of course, needed to know she was truly free to fulfill his part of the bargain.

The collar was the insurance that he would behave. He'd contemplated having his nanites disable it, but he had no intention of misbehaving, and it made the Germans more comfortable. The biggest problem was the television was all in German. Soap operas should never be shot in German. It sounds like the lovers are cussing each other out.

Internet was a little better, but he was careful to browse, only, not post. He didn't want to give his handlers any reason to suspect him. Of course, the UPS would also trace some of his activities on registered sites, and realize where he was. How badly do you want to get me, Commander Clarke?

Finally, he got tired of the boredom and went down to the gym area. Most of the people he encountered were cyborgs, with a few normal humans in the mix. The Germans hadn't done anything with genetically modified humans for troops.

Aoloa went for the weight stations. He knew they were monitoring everything he did. He began free weights, bulking up more than he naturally was. For weight training, he started with fifty pound weights and went up from there, depending on the exercise.

Some of the light cyborgs enjoyed competing with him. Lieutenant Jost Krueger, in particular, had similar speed and strength. Jost was harder to hurt, but Aoloa healed naturally. Heavy cyborg Corporal Gertrud Lang, on the other hand, was merely amused at their displays of strength, just as they were amused at her display of... plodding.

After a good round of weightlifting, he and Jost went to the cafeteria for lunch. "Do I have to watch you eat?" Jost asked in passable English.

"No, you can face away, but you'll still hear my fangs as they slice into that nice, juicy..."

"Stop! I don't want to think about the... stuff... you eat."

Aoloa had found out his food was coming from animals, mostly small ones, that got too close to the electrified fence around the perimeter of the compound he now called home. "But we don't even know what the roadkill of the day will be," he replied with a grin.

Gertrud tapped him on the back of his head. "Stop teasing Jost."

"Fine," he groused. "But I'm still going to eat it."

"I'm just saying, it's not sanitary," the smaller cyborg complained.

"It's sealed in plastic. I wish they wouldn't refrigerate them. Food tastes better warm." That earned him a more forceful tap from Gertrud.

Lunch ended up being a couple of squirrels and a glass of water. Each was in a bag with a date and time written on it. "Fresh caught this morning. How fresh is your food, Jost?"

The small cyborg made the mistake of looking over to reply just as Aoloa tore open one of the squirrels and started sucking down its guts. He turned slightly green and spun away. "It was a properly refrigerated chicken."

"I love chicken!" Gertrud thunked him on the back of the head, this time causing a slight concussion that his nanites quickly corrected. "Well, I do," he pouted, rubbing his head.

"We've seen you eat chicken. It's worse than the way you eat vermin," was her only reply.

After lunch, Aoloa went back to his room and checked on Hokulani. She'd made it safely into Switzerland and was arranging a face-to-face meeting. He couldn't find out the details, which was just as well. That meant the UPS might not interfere.