by M. L. WILSON
“Who, sir?”
“Cartwright.”
CHAPTER 124
A FAMILIAR BLACK limousine is parked outside the Infinity Genetic Research Center. The project is nearly complete.
His project is nearly complete.
Cartwright stares into the lab through the lab bay window and watches Dr. Nichols and his aides perform a very delicate and very important procedure on a patient, a procedure that could determine the course of human history.
Dr. Nichols knows that Cartwright is watching. He can almost feel his presence in the room with him. He can hear his nagging, distracting voice in his head.
Why are you behind schedule?
I’m paying you a lot of money.
Blah, blah, blah.
This is Cartwright’s whole life.
Nichols complains to himself, but it’s his whole life as well. He wants this to be a success. He needs it to be. It’s unlikely his accomplishments will ever grace the pages of any medical journals, but he will have the satisfaction of knowing that he was right.
Dr. Mengele, my ass.
Nichols’ aides start removing the IVs and tubes from the patient on the table, as Nichols steps back and watches with his fingers crossed. He looks behind him to see Cartwright waiting just as anxiously.
The procedure is complete. At least phase one of the procedure is.
Six years of testing and retesting, failing and starting over, one grueling experiment after another. It all comes down to this moment. The moment when the course of mankind will be changed forever.
A new genesis. A new beginning for the human race.
The patient’s heart rate is elevated. That was to be expected.
Breathing is normal.
Blood pressure is normal. At least for the moment.
After all of the tubes and needles are removed, one of Nichols’ aides injects the patient with adrenaline. Its effect is almost instantaneous. Much to the delight of Nichols and Cartwright, the patient sits up on the table. Awake and alert.
Very alert.
Blood pressure highly elevated.
He sits up abruptly, nervously, unfamiliar with his surroundings and completely surrounded by strangers. His first instinct is to defend himself. Those around him, however, don’t appear to be a threat. At least not yet.
Lucky for them.
Dr. Nichols’ aides step back cautiously but Nichols steps forward with his hands raised as a gesture of peace. Cartwright’s hands shake with anticipation as he smiles at what appears to be a successful experiment.
“No one will hurt you,” Nichols says to his patient as he continues to slowly move towards him.
Nichols’ patient aggressively stands up, and intently watches Nichols’ every step. He feels a little dizzy but he is still able to defend himself, if necessary.
Nichols reaches for a chart on the table. Unfortunately for him, a scalpel sits next to the chart. It appears to the patient that Nichols is reaching for the scalpel. With inhuman speed and strength, he grabs Nichols by the throat and picks him up off the ground.
The aides are frozen in place as they helplessly watch Dr. Nichols gasp for air. Suddenly, Cartwright enters the room.
“Stop!” he yells. The patient looks over at him and slowly puts Nichols down.
Cartwright’s cane echoes off the medical bay floor as he struggles to walk over to his patient.
“You are safe here,” Cartwright tells his patient. “These people are here to help you.”
“He...clearly has their strength,” Nichols says as he rubs his throat.
“You’ve done it, Doctor.” Nichols, still struggling to catch his breath, is still skeptical.
“I am hesitant to call it a success. There are still some tests we need to run before we enter the next phase.”
Cartwright doesn’t disagree. In fact, he barely hears a word Nichols is saying.
“Do you have it?” Cartwright asks. Dr. Nichols hands Cartwright a small beaker containing a grayish liquid substance. With his hands shaking, Cartwright takes the beaker with the anxiousness of a child at Christmas. The liquid is more valuable to Cartwright than a million bars of gold. It means more to him than life itself.
“We are ready,” Cartwright says as he turns to walk away.
“Ready for what, Mr. Cartwright?” Nichols asks.
“A new beginning, my good doctor. A new beginning.”
CHAPTER 125
WITH HIS STRUGGLES almost over, Cartwright enthusiastically walks down the corridor to the elevator. The moment is surreal to him. So much has happened leading up to this moment. So many sacrifices. The time has finally come. Time to get his life back.
Time to share the good news with his consortium as well. Part of it, anyway. They don’t need to know about his side project.
Cartwright stops at one of the cell doors and looks in the window. The cell is twelve by eighteen feet with a concrete slab for a bed, a metal toilet, and a sink.
Chained to the floor is a Promelian in his natural form. He looks at Cartwright and angrily pulls on the chains to free himself, to no avail.
“Free me, human! Immediately!”
“You are hardly in a position to demand anything.”
The Promelian helplessly pulls on the chains, determined to break free. “My people will never stop looking for me!”
“Yes, I know. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
“What do you want?” the Promelian asks.
“We have what we want, Promelian,” Cartwright answers with a smile as he walks away.
“We have everything we need.”
BONUS
Turn the page and get a sneak peek at the conclusion;
They’re Among Us:
Hybrid
12:01 a.m. EET+2 —150 miles off the coast of Turkey
THE C-130 HERCULES departed Incirlik Air Base, en route to a specific set of coordinates over the Black Sea. The pilots, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Shift and Major Carl Ledbetter, were told that it was a simple training mission. Take off, fly straight, go fifty miles off the coast of Batumi, Georgia, and come home.
Simple enough.
Simple, however, is exactly the problem Shift and Ledbetter have with this so-called mission. They were told that there was no cargo on board, and yet they were not allowed to inspect the cargo area of the plane. The plane was surrounded by military police as if the mission were top secret.
This is not the first time they’ve received orders and received little information about the mission. They accept that they’re not always going to be privy to every bit of information about everything. But at least they were told something on those other missions. They weren’t told anything about this one, and they don’t like it.
“What the hell are we doing out here this late at night?” Ledbetter asks.
“Who knows,” Shift answers. “I guess the commander thinks we need more training on flying in a straight line.”
“Yeah, right. I can think of a few things I would rather be doing at midnight.”
“I’ll bet you can. What’s her name?”
Shift and Ledbetter laugh as they try to make the best of what they consider to be an inconvenience.
“So let me get this straight,” Ledbetter says. “We are ordered to fly fifty miles off the coast of Batumi, drop to five hundred feet, open the back cargo door, close it, go home. and park.”
“That’s about the size of it, Ledbetter.” Shift continues to adjust and monitor the plane’s gauges as they get closer to their destination.
“Yeah, well, these orders suck. I mean, we’re not even transporting anything. The plane is empty. How did we get on the commander’s shit list anyway? Seems to me he should have better things to do than to screw with our private time.”
“Private time, Major? You kidding? There is no private time in the Air Force. You signed your life away when you took the oath. The government owns your ass—lock, stock, and barrel.”
Ledbetter continues to
voice his displeasure while Shift listens to his subordinate as a father would a child. As they near their coordinates, Shift says, “I hate to interrupt your ranting, Major, but we’re nearing the coordinates. Begin descent to five hundred feet.”
“Roger, sir. Beginning descent.”
The plane slowly descends to the coordinates. As it does, Shift and Ledbetter become anxious, hoping something will happen after they open the cargo door. Anything that would explain why they were tasked with such an unusual mission.
“Okay,” Ledbetter says. “We’re at five hundred feet.”
“Open the cargo door.”
“Roger, sir. Cargo door is open. Bombs away.”
AS THE CARGO door of the C-130 opens, the plane’s lone passenger walks purposefully to the opening. He’s dressed in an all-black diving suit and has a large, waterproof backpack on his back that is strapped securely around his chest. He waits patiently for the cargo door to completely open as he looks out at the full moon and the clear, starry sky.
As the plane levels off, he casually walks to the edge of the cargo door and looks down into the Black Sea. The light of the moon reflects off of the water. It’s beautiful to him. Beautiful and somehow familiar, as if he had been here before. Here, or some place just like it. He was with someone. Someone who—
Focus. Nothing else matters.
He looks at his watch to make sure he is on schedule.
It’s time.
Without the slightest bit of fear, he steps off the edge of the cargo door and rapidly descends feet first toward the sea. Most humans would be too terrified to drop five hundred feet into a large body of water. There are those that would do it; however, most people would consider them suicidal. He is neither terrified nor suicidal. In fact, he has no feelings about it whatsoever. To him, it’s just a part of the mission. He’s not supposed to feel anything. In fact, he’s incapable of feeling.
Emotions are irrelevant.
He closes his eyes as he hits the water. He barely makes a splash as his body buoys to the surface. The shock of the cold water nearly takes his breath away, but he’s able to quickly adjust to the temperature. Treading water, he looks at his watch to make sure he’s still on schedule, situates himself, and then he begins his fifty-mile swim to shore.
The average person can swim approximately three miles per hour. He’s doing over three times that speed. Effortlessly, he continues swimming nonstop until he’s about ten miles from shore. He has to stop for a moment to relax his muscles and catch his breath. His muscles ache. His lungs are burning. Looks like he’s human after all.
Keep going. Almost there.
He stumbles onto shore, goes to his hands and knees, and rests for a moment. Not a long moment, mind you. He still has a timetable to keep, but his muscles and lungs feel like they’re on fire. After a few minutes, he looks at his watch.
Five thirty. Right on schedule.
He sets his backpack on the ground and takes out a change of clothes. A white T-shirt, a set of blue dungarees, a black wool coat, a pair of black Red Wing work boots, and a black watch cap. He should blend in nicely with the locals.
He also takes out his 9mm Glock, just in case. After he changes, he tucks his weapon into his coat pocket, and he hides his wet suit and backpack in a wooded area nearby. Also hidden in that wooded area is a car covered with a green tarp and tree branches. A car left for him by his facilitators.
There’s my ride.
He anxiously removes the branches and the tarp. He’s happy to see things going so well. At least, so far. He starts the car and backs out of the wooded area and onto a dirt road that leads to a small town just outside of Batumi.
He will meet his facilitator in less than an hour who will give him further instructions. From Batumi, he will head for Tbilisi, where he will carry out his mission.
Time to execute my mission. Time to kill.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE: GENESIS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
PART I: A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
PART II: THE WAR’S WE FIGHT
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
PART III: CLUES
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
PART IV: THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO GET BETTER WITH TIME
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
PART V: THE STUFF THAT HERO’S ARE MADE OF
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
CHAPTER 100
CHAPTER 101
CHAPTER 102
CHAPTER 103
CHAPTER 104
CHAPTER 105
CHAPTER 106
CHAPTER 107
CHAPTER 108
CHAPTER 109
CHAPTER 110
CHAPTER 111
CHAPTER 112
CHAPTER 113
CHAPTER 114
CHAPTER 115
CHAPTER 116
CHAPTER 117
CHAPTER 118
CHAPTER 119
EPILOGUE: TWISTS & TURNS
CHAPTER 120
CHAPTER 121
CHAPTER 122
CHAPTER 123
CHAPTER 124
CHAPTER 125
grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share