The stranger was unmoved, sitting there deathly silent.
“Asshole! Get the fuck outta my car!” Aaron’s frustration began to show. Still, the man didn’t move. Taking a few steps closer, Aaron began to shout again. “I’m callin’ the cops man! Hope you like jail, because your ass is gonna...”
His car exploded, cutting his rant short, and sent him flying back into the concrete wall some twenty feet behind him. The blast decimated his car as well as those nearest to it, burning everything around it. The walls shook violently and cracked from the concussion wave. Aaron found himself crumpled in a heap, clinging to consciousness with the sound of multiple car alarms blaring in tune with the throbbing in his head. With his blurry vision, he could make out the mangled, burning wreck of what used to be his Ford Edge among the twisted carnage of the surrounding vehicles. The heat from the flames bore down on him, but he was unable to move. The smoke began to fill the corner of the garage, choking him slowly. With the world growing dim around him, Aaron caught the shape of a man approaching him. He tried to cry for help, but only a croak escaped his bloodied lips.
“Of all the luck,” the man spoke as he lifted Aaron up into a fireman’s carry and began to run. “Ya need someone to help ya, but ya run into me! Hope ya like pain, cause they got some real shit lined up fer yer ass!”
With his last grasp on consciousness, Aaron felt himself being placed flat on something metal, and heard the sound of a metal door sliding shut. Then everything went black.
—
“Fuckin’ guy don’t do much but sit at a desk!” Marlin commented sarcastically from the vantage point set up in the fourth floor of the parking garage, which sat across from the bank where the target worked. The team had been on standby since late morning and now had to sit in the dampness of the open air garage as the rain began to pour. Marlin was getting restless; this op was completely out of the norm for them.
“Stow it, Private!” Wilson barked. “Maintain surveillance on the target until he leaves for the day. That’s when we move!”
“Yes, sir!” Marlin sneered back as he lit a cigarette. Normally he wouldn’t smoke on an op, but he figured it wouldn’t attract too much attention in the middle of downtown. “How much we getting paid for this shit again?”
“More than three years of our salary with bonuses.” Everett piped in. “Now shut up and keep him in sight.”
Wilson tapped the radio on his neck. “ETA on the decoy?” he asked.
“Give me an hour,” the radio crackled back in his ear. “We’re stuck in gridlock right now.” Hastings replied.
“Try and cut that in half. We need to have everything ready just in case.”
“Roger that.” The line then went quiet.
“Gentry, text Taylor and let him know we’re on schedule; target will be acquired in five hours.” Wilson commanded. “Do we have the explosives in place?”
“Half kilo of C4 strapped to the gas tank. Gonna make a hell of a show.” Everett replied with his eyes still on the target in the window of the bank.
“Good.” The Major breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s keep our heads here men; this shit is going to get a little weird. Let’s do our jobs so we can go home and forget we ever took this job.”
“I’m going to Vegas after this shit!” Marlin pointed out. “Gonna get me some sweet ass whore and spend the entire ….”
“No one wants to hear it, Marlin. Geez, you’re a freak!” Everett cut him off from his thoughts. “How ‘bout you follow orders and finish this lousy day off right.”
“Whatever!” Marlin was getting fed up with their holier than thou crap lately. He was seriously thinking of a change recently, enough to make him consider a transfer to another unit. In his mind, this payday would let him take some time away before he’d file the papers. Then he’d be done with these goody-two-shoes!
Wilson could tell something had been wrong with Marlin lately and knew he’d have to address it soon. Once they had grouped to debrief at the conclusion of the mission, he’d sit Marlin down and find out what was happening. It bothered him to think of replacing a long time team member, but the way the private had been acting the last few ops had been troubling and there was no shortage on applicants waiting to transfer in. Eight hours, he thought to himself. Eight hours and all this would be behind them and life would be back to normal. Time was moving slowly as the task grew closer to completion. He had to admit he was going a little stir crazy too, but they had a job to do and he had to keep them focused. If the shit went wrong in the middle of the city, there was bound to be someone with a camera lurking nearby.
Hours ticked by and the preparations were complete. The decoy ‘twin’ body was in place and the clock ticked ever closer to the bank closing down. Major Wilson peered through his binoculars as he studied the target closer. The man was finishing some reports and starting to take notice of the fact the rain had picked up more than before. He left his office, only to return with a newspaper that he would obviously use as an umbrella. The target checked his computer once more before grabbing his coat and things, turning his office lights off as he left.
“T minus five minutes to extraction.” He thumbed his voice receiver on his throat. “All stations report!”
“Gentry here; traffic rerouted with do not enter signs. We’ve got the place to ourselves. Ready and waiting to move.”
“Marlin in stairwell; gots the mood lighting for our romantic rendezvous! Little fucker won’t see us in the dark!”
“Hastings in van on level ramp; she’s runnin’ and ready sir!”
“Everett in position; explosives are live and waiting on your signal. Tapped into local authorities and will intercept any 911 calls. Should give us a window to get outta dodge.”
Wilson smiled; he knew his men wouldn’t let him down. “Let’s do this and go home boys!” he added just as a reminder. It was go time!
Wilson got his first in person look at the target as he exited the stairway on the third level of the parking garage. The man stood there with a look of mild confusion as he saw the doppelganger behind the wheel of his vehicle; then came the look of panic as his mind grasped that the figure was dressed as he was now. When the target approached the mark, Wilson tapped his throat mic for the signal to Everett who let all hell break loose!
Many times had the Major seen the effects of a concussion blast on a nearby person, but it never ceased to amaze him! The target was thrown some twenty meters in the air; his body just flying clear of the concrete ceiling; and slamming hard into the wall. Tapping his mic twice, he signaled to the others that it was time to move in.
Marlin was the first to reach the target, scooping him up and throwing him over his shoulder. Wilson met Marlin as he turned to leave the scene and tried to assess the general health of the injured man as the soldiers sprinted to the waiting van. As they slid the barely conscious target in the back of the van, Wilson began to run an IV and administer an oxygen mask to stabilize him. The others filed into the getaway van as it rolled away and they exited the structure from the backside entrance, looking inconspicuous to any onlookers. The van looked to be a courier vehicle from the outside; inside it more resembled an ambulance. The mark lay on a padded stretcher surrounded by one side of the interior having shelves with emergency medical supplies. The rest of the interior looked like an armory with guns, ammo, and grenades hanging. As they sped away, they were shrouded in silence as all inside—save Hastings, who was driving—focused their interest on the man lying before them. All were concerned with his health—after all, they wouldn’t get paid if he was dead!
Everett kept a line on the police channel, giving quick status reports every few minutes to break the maddening silence. Firefighters and police had arrived at the scene and were sifting through the rubble, trying to figure out what had happened and who may be hurt. The charges were small enough to destroy the vehicles, but not so muc
h to make the carcass unidentifiable. The ruse would work; the police would believe that the man was dead and end the investigation soon after from lack of evidence. The target now belonged to Taylor and his group of Frankensteins, and nothing could save him from that.
They rode quietly towards the local Air Force base, the sound of the rain drummed constantly on the roof of the van. Wilson checked and double checked the man’s life signs to reassure himself that he was stable. Other than some scrapes, a concussion, and a broken forearm which was now in a splint, the target was alive and well. Taylor would be happy; his main subject was about to be delivered and he could continue with whatever it was he had going on in that mausoleum he called a lab.
For his part in this, Wilson wondered if this job would be the one that damned his eternal soul when his time came! Since the very offer had come across the channels, he had known feelings like this would rise. Using every bit of his training, he pushed down those feelings into that empty place we all have inside for times such as this. But as he looked down at the man on the stretcher he came to the realization that no matter how hard he tried, this moment would leave a mark on him forever.
TWO
Rocky Mountains, Utah –
Military Installation Code Named White Rock
Consciousness was a tricky thing for Aaron; it came and went in the blink of an eye. His concept of time was all but lost, as his body was riddled with pain that kept him at arm’s length of understanding the world around him. Even in his sleep, he couldn’t get away from the constant waves of pain! In and out of a mild coma he slipped, and when he was awake he struggled to comprehend what was happening around him and where he was.
Grasping at his fragmented memories, Aaron could remember a day with rain. He remembered leaving work and going to his vehicle across the street. Then the feeling of something out of place washed over him followed by the memory of burning heat before things went black. Then he awoke, looking up at a white ceiling and fluorescent lights, unable to move, with his head aching and his mind full of questions.
His body was strapped to the bed, his neck immobilized and his head strapped down as well. The sensation of cold steel in his arms led him to the fact that he had more than a few intravenous feeds in him. The sound of a heart monitor and other machines were a constant in his room. Frustration raged throughout his entire being; he couldn’t even scream for help because of the tubes down his throat. A hospital! he thought, I was hurt in the blast and I’m in a hospital!
Just as he was starting to try and piece some things together, he was dragged back into the dark embrace of unconsciousness again. Darkness enveloped his mind as it shifted to dreams of his family; reminiscing on old times of joy. He watched, seemingly from a distance, as his wife and daughter sat on the porch swing. They laughed and smiled, the whispers of their conversation too low for him to make out. From time to time, they would look in his direction and smile, a sparkle filled their eyes. It was if he was actually there with them. But Aaron knew this was just a dream—the pain that constantly pulsed through his body prevented him from falling into this dream world completely. Soon the vision would fade and the pain was his guide to the real world, a path lit up with his burning synapses.
When his eyes opened once more, he had been moved to another room; time had passed, but how much was unknown. Two voices broke the silence he had been so accustomed to. He knew them by sound, but had never seen their faces. They were in charge of this hell. Aaron tried to scream, but the tubes down his throat prevented it. He stopped his struggles as more morphine was given to him. His world faded again.
“One more day on the HGH and he will be ready for the infusion, Major Phillips. He is the only subject to survive the process this far. Do you think he will survive the next step?” the male voice spoke as the darkness faded his vision.
“We’ve never made it this far with a subject before.” The female responded. Her voice was precise and quick, immediately invoking thoughts of a military person to Aaron.
“Well, I don’t think she will last much longer; Subject Zero is dying! I hope she lasts long enough to finish the experiment.”
“Let him sleep, he has a busy day tomorrow. He will cease to be human and become something more, if he can survive.”
Sometime later, he awoke to movement. They were moving him down a hall. The people were dressed in full bio suits. What was happening? One leaned over him and looked at him. “He’s conscious. Shall I give him more morphine?”
“No!” said another one. “He must be clear of the drugs for the next phase to succeed.”
He was wheeled into a large laboratory where he could hear the whir of electronics. It was dimmer than the previous rooms they had stored him in. There was an observation room up high, the glass mirrored to hide the spectators. The room was alive with activity with people bustling about preparing for something. For what? Why was he here? Aaron tried to listen to the voices in the background as the gurney was stopped by a large machine. All he could hear were murmurs, the machines’ humming washed their voices away. He was being moved off his bed. This was new; they never had done this while he was awake. He tried to resist, but was far too weak to escape. He was moved over to an open tank and his hoses and leads were redirected into the machine. Aaron watched curiously now. He knew he was going to die, his mind had just accepted it! There was no one coming to save him. His life, his dreams, his future were ending before his eyes. How curious. He thought. I would have thought I would be more afraid at the end of my life.
Your life is in transition, not ending! A voice erupted in his head. Confused, Aaron’s eyes looked around trying to find the source of it. You will experience things beyond your wildest dreams, but first you must suffer unimaginably. You may even die! I will be there soon, so do not waste your energy trying to find me yet. Rest, these fools don’t realize what will soon happen!
He tried to process what he had heard. A voice, not spoken, but inside his head. It sounded female. What did she know? He decided to listen to her. The voice had been the only thing to talk directly to him; this might be his only chance to survive this ordeal. He let his body fade and passed out from the pain as he succumbed to the darkness once more.
—
“The test subject is here, sir.” Phillips began as she greeted the general to the lab. “He is responding well to the growth agents and hormones.”
Taylor grabbed the iPad from her and reviewed the notes. He huffed to himself as he still liked the feel of paper in his hands rather than these trinkets; the old man in him still resisted the computer age taking over. “And what’s the status of 54?” he huffed, dragging his finger on the screen to change pages on the reports.
“54 is the furthest along and is being prepped for infusion in a few days. It’s remarkable how much his body has adapted to these procedures.”
“Three months down and he’s the longest surviving test subject to date. I commend you on your excellent research skills. This project needs that kind of dogged determination, Major.”
Phillips blushed slightly. This was the first time the general had ever given her a compliment of any kind since she was assigned to the project. “Thank you, sir.”
“I mean it, Phillips. Since the project inception, no one has pushed as hard as you have to see this thing to fruition.” He continued. “I only wish I had a whole staff with the drive like you. This assignment isn’t simply some science experiment; some kind of mad doctor shit. This is to better defend ourselves against a technologically superior foe that eventually will come looking for their scout. So that’s why I push so hard, because in my mind the clock is ticking and sooner than later time is going to run out!”
“I get it, sir. This job is as real as it gets; that’s why I wanted to be a part of it so badly! The first time I got a look at her, I knew I was in the right place and what the stakes were. All of us here know how deep this runs; all
of us feel that same clock ticking.” Phillips was starting to see the stress disappear from the face of the general. Lately he had become a little erratic and irrational with the aspect of bearing the entire weight of the project alone. Now, she had made him realize that he wasn’t in it alone.
“That’s good to hear, Major.” He responded and handed the iPad back to her. “Let me know when the infusion is set to take place; I want to be there.”
“Yes, sir!” She saluted him as he spun around and walked towards the elevator banks. When the doors had shut and the man was gone she let out a sigh of relief. It was hard enough to accomplish the mandate as it was, but with the general looming over them it was even harder!
She glanced down at the monitors for Subject Zero. Slowly over the last few months, her life signs had been deteriorating; almost in concert with the arrival of 54. In fact, Phillips had noted that zero’s brain wave activity had increased dramatically since 54’s inclusion in the subject pool. This was more than a coincidence, even if the general dismissed it as such. There was more going on here than it seemed, and she was determined to figure it out!
—
Aaron shuddered. He wasn’t cold; being inside the tank was as warm as he had been since coming here. The prospect of his life ending in thirty minutes, this was a somber thought. It was one thing to know you are going to die, but to know when, well, that was almost unbearable. Thirty minutes. Well, the suffering would be over. Closing his eyes, Aaron let his thoughts drift to his family. His beautiful wife; he was sorry he would never get to go on that trip to Bermuda with her that they had planned. Life had its way of screwing the best of plans up, but he was pretty sure that this wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry baby! He thought, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I guess happily ever after is only in the fairytales.
A group of new people came through the doors in front of him, all carrying equipment or pushing carts with instruments on them. The prep team, Aaron thought. This was now the countdown. He watched intently as they went about their business. One attached lead wires to the tube. Another started up a machine nearby and wheeled it into position to his left. A small tube was moved off the machine and fastened to the backside of the machine. Three more tubes were also put in place; one by his neck, one by his heart, and the last by his left thigh. When he looked up, there was a nurse in front of the tube. She was looking directly into his eyes.
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