Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (54 page)

His lungs must have taken a beating with that last hit because he didn’t sound like a man he once was just a few short minutes ago.

“You think this country will give in because of the words that come out of my mouth?”

The President shook his head.

“They’re stronger than that,” he looked up at Bahn, “And stronger than you.”

A fist smashed into President Marshall’s abdomen. The walls of the office shook with the force of the blow. Even the ground felt like it had quaked under Meryl’s body. The President appeared to be choking on his own spit as he let out horrifyingly sharp coughs. Bahn then picked up the chair that his victim sat in and hurled it across the room. The fine piece of furniture than President Marshal treasured shattered across the ground sending giant chunks of its former self spewing all over his office.

“No one is stronger than me!”  Countered Bahn.

His growing rage did not bode well for the sanity of the remaining living members of this meeting.

With his back turned, Meryl poised to strike. She reached over and snatched the revolver in one swift move and clasped the weapon straight to her chest hidden from all view. Bahn continued frustration proved to be the perfect distraction. The FBI agent slowly rolled over and slid her knees forward underneath her body. She would only have one shot at making this work.

“Stand up!” Ordered the soldier as kicked his victim square in the back.

The request would be proven even more difficult given that the President’s hands were tied behind his back. “When I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to surrender.”

“Go to hell,” the President scoffed.

He was sounding more authoritative by the second. Even with his life in danger, he did not bend, break or falter.

“Even if your crazy scheme did succeed, we’re all dead anyways. But if my defiance here and now will cause you continued pain for the rest of your miserable life then my death will be worth it.”

“You won’t have to wait too long for –”

Three shots rang out in quick succession. Bahn’s words were silenced as he began to slowly stumble and turn around to find the source of his excruciating pain.

Meryl had pumped everything she had into them and hit her target right where she wanted. She couldn’t have asked for a better grouping. Smoke still waved off the tip of her barrel. The target was still locked on her sights. She waited for him to face him to get the one shot she needed to end this.

“How could you –”

Another bullet rocketed from her chamber piercing Bahn’s throat. He collapsed to the ground in a heap as blood began to pool and mix with the other deceased Korean’s laying only a few short inches away.

Meryl’s hand’s continued to shake as she surveyed the scene. One had gone down but there were still five left all drugged out on that drug that Bahn had originally ingested. There weren’t enough bullets for the rest of them unless the FBI agent was going to form a quick suicide pack with the President of the United States. It would sure beat out any deaths these guys would offer. However, they did not move or approach which send a chill running up Meryl’s spine. Either they were waiting for orders or something else was about to show up that superseded their authority. Something much worse.

Laughing leisurely filled the room. Quiet at first but soon grew to be loud and boisterous. Meryl had taken her eyes off the prize for one second while keeping tabs on the other five soldiers. Bahn stood to his feet and began shaking off the excess debris. His white shirt was soaked in blood which the ripped off in the blink of an eye. The most horrifying feature was the chunk of his neck that had once been missing was slowly starting to bind the fragmented fibers together and completely repair itself.

“Is that all you’ve got?” The soldier jeered.

In his hands he carried one of the crutches he previously required to walk around with. He twisted the metal tubing towards the center and the pipe dropped revealing a long and razor sharp blade. Bahn affixed the weapon to his forearm locking it securely in place and began dragging the blade across the carpet. The menace was thick in the air as he stalked his prey with slow methodical steps.

“As you can see,” Bahn snickered, “surrendering is the only option you have left.”

Meryl lifted the gun once more and placed the sights right between the bastard’s eyes. She wasn’t going to miss the crucial shot this time.

Before she could blink, Bahn seemingly teleported and grabbed her by the throat. His fingers drilled into the delicate tissues of her neck and started to draw blood. She winced and yelped pleading for release or even just an end to the pain but found neither. Bahn lifted her off the ground and held her there. He didn’t want this defiant woman to pass out like the other. He wanted her to suffer as long as possible for this insolence. Perhaps it would take one more death to convince the President that his choices were few and far between.

Meryl was out of options. As the air stopped flowing into her lungs, her mind had to work quickly to formulate the best possible ending to this scenario. There was only one thing left she could do. It would be her ultimate sacrifice. Her leg shot up and slammed the bastard square in his crotch. He must still have sensitive spots because he dropped the FBI agent immediately. Meryl landed and fell to her knees. With her gun still firmly in her grasp, she spun it back and released the final two rounds praying they hit their intended target.

March 27th, 2013 1:19PM

FBI Local Field Office

Las Vegas, NV

Adrian paced around the walls of the conference room with a phone glued to his cheek. He had been trying to get through to anybody that would listen and warn them of the potential threat approaching. It was like he was being personally ignored. Either they were too busy to deal with his call or the Secret Service just didn’t care.

Fists slammed against the table. Every second was precious and he couldn’t waste any of them on hold. Lives were at stake, maybe the most important one in this country and here he stood waiting for the privilege to speak with someone.

The phone grew silent and suddenly there was a click.

“Go for Agent Rand.”

“Agent Rand?!” Adrian stated almost as if he were familiar with the name and man who held it. “Listen to me very carefully. I am Special Agent in Charge Adrian Fischer with the FBI. This is a code Omega, priority Alpha 671-T alert. King Salmon has been compromised. Repeat, Salmon has been compromised. Abort the mission!”

“Repeat,” the voice cracked.

Static could be heard throughout the other end of the earpiece which only added to the S.A.C.’s frustrations.

“Damn it!” Cursed Adrian. “Do you hear me?! The President has been –”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Shouted the other end of the line.

He could hear a mass of cluttering going on and suddenly frantic voices began to shout off instructions. None of them sounded pleasant. Adrian knew he was already too late.

March 27th, 2013 4:19PM

20th St NW

Washington, D.C.

“What’s going on? What’s the status?” The Director shouted.

“We’ve got confirmation of activity in the Oval Office sir,” Agent Yuan replied. “Local P.D.’s are reporting seeing two gun shots exit the south window.”

The information slammed into Director Miller’s face like a freight train and nearly knocked him off his feet. In his many years sitting in the Director’s chair, he’s had to prepare for hundreds upon hundreds of different scenarios for each and every operation. Not one of which ever covered something like that.

“Can we get in communication with the Secret Service and figure out what the fuck is going on?!”

“Negative,” Shelly replied. “It appears they are scrambling themselves and aren’t accepting any form of outside communication.”

This was just perfect. The only thing that could have made this better was a satellite falling from orbit taking down their communications permanently.

“Are you still in contact? Can you make out anything you hear?” The Director asked trying his hardest not to sound like he was pleading for answers.

“I’m getting a lot of friction but word from our eyes outside is that the Secret Service appear to be mobilizing towards the back door.”

“Mobilizing?” The Director pondered.

Standard operating procedure told him that if all of their available agents were scrambling towards an area it’s because something unpleasant was approaching.

“Yes sir,” Agent Yuan replied. “It appears local P.D.s on site are also responding and reporting in strange activity from outside the perimeter.”

This was starting to sound like a bad dream. Whatever was going on out there, they clearly had the upper hand because no one under the Director’s employee or radius of communication could tell him anything that was happening. It was then that something struck the Director that may be the saving grace in all of this. The idea hit him like a bolt of lightning. He turned to Agent Yuan with grave look on his face and asked the one question he hoped someone had the answer to.

“Where is Michael Madison?”

March 27th, 2013 4:20PM

The White House

Washington, D.C.

The iron gates of the White House were in his sights. Michael punched the gas swerving into opposing traffic and made a straight shot for them. All of the entrances were barricaded by local law enforcement. He didn’t have time to explain who he was or what situation was brewing inside the President’s home.

Officers began shouting commands as they drew their weapons. The former FBI agent wasn’t about to be deterred by a little gunfire. He continued to push the vehicle hitting the vehicle’s govern as much as possible and blitzed down Constitutional Avenue. Pedestrians and other tourist swarmed the area. It would be difficult to cross over without risking injury but it was a risk worth taking. Michael processed the calculation of movement speed versus pathway available and found an opening just ahead that will minimal potential damage and risk. Thankfully, people started running the moment the police drew their arms and shouted commands.

Michael slammed the car to the right and tore down the black iron barricade. The Mercedes jolted a bit and rattled as it drove over the fallen fence then proceeded to speed down the South Lawn with relative ease. All eyes were on him. Michael could feel every single second of his chase being documented and recorded. If he’s wrong, this might very well be the thing that does him in for good. But if he’s right then it would be all worth it. Thinking about it now makes Michael hope he really wasn’t right.

Out of the corner of his eyes, the former FBI agent could see the surrounding law enforcement officers fiddling with the gate entrances. They had made security so tight that not even they themselves could break through those gates. It provided Michael the precious seconds he needed to get in the back door and end this madness, hopefully before it even began. Only one thing was on his mind after his call with Adrian ended and it sure as hell wasn’t about saving the President’s life.

The Mercedes skidded to a screeching halt. Michael kicked open the door and raced towards the door with the RPG-7 in hand. He slung the launcher over his head and shoulder. Hundreds of them were talking about him from both the outside and in. Protocol had to be waned. He could deal with the consequences later.

Michael smashed the back door destroying it brutally off the hinges. Ten Secret Service agents stood within and had their guns drawn all pointed at the former FBI agent. They had learned of his approach and were more than welcoming and ready for his arrival.

“Stand down!” The lead agent ordered. He began whispering into his wrist mic “Target has arrived. Clear to engage?”

The entire room was frozen. Michael didn’t want to move and draw any unnecessary gunfire, especially in the White House. His reputation already had enough memorable footnotes. This was something no government employee wanted on their resume. And unlike his normal victims, all of these men are colleagues. There had to be another way.

“I’m Michael Madison.”

That name appeared to rattle them to their very cores. The S.A.C. was right. They were more than prepared for his arrival as they kept their guns locked and sights aimed right at the former FBI agent’s chest. His attire told them a convincing story. Michael would be very weary too if someone broke into the most sacred building on earth, kicked the door down, and came in looking like he’d just been through hell and back with a rocket launcher strapped across his back. He was actually surprised they didn’t shoot him on the spot. Nevertheless, he had a job to do and he wasn’t about to let a dozen of the most prized guards in the country dissuade him now.

“And you’re standing in my way.”

“It’s him!” The lead agent barked. “Stand down,” he ordered while turning to a fellow agent behind him. “Call in the locals. Tell them we have Madison in custody.”

The agents looked serious on top of nervous. They had all been trained for situations just like these. Unfortunately, the real thing pales in comparison. Michael could hear the clattering of their guns in their hands and sweat beginning to bead of their scalp. Even if push came to shove, intimidation wouldn’t save this former FBI agent now even if it was on his side.

With time being a fleeting presence, there was none left to waste. Only one option was available now. Michael took a deep breath and prepared himself for something he was sure they would regret.

March 27th, 2013 4:22PM

1286 4th St SE

Washington, D.C.

Dozens of hungry beasts continued to snap their jaws at the Paladin. He kept them a good distance away but with the army of them encircling him and swinging at him all at the same time it proved to be quite challenging.

Two wily monsters had seen through their prey’s defenses and jumped him into the air. Despite the several minutes he had spent combating them, even Davis kept a few tricks left up his sleeve for a rainy day. The Paladin slammed his staff down and with it the entire building rocked. A wave of force emanated from the center of the strike and pushed back all adversaries in every direction. The creatures flew and crashed nearly fifty feet away and landed with appropriately damaging thuds against the hard concrete floor.

Davis allowed himself a few moments to breath and formulate a plan. Though he had not taken any physical damage as of yet, the process of keeping these beasts at bay proved taxing to his body. Drawing runes on the ground was easy enough with only two in melee combat but all twenty-five creatures at the same time proved to be relentless.

In all of the Paladin’s extended years of experience, battles never quite went the way you planned. The beasts had recovered quicker than he had anticipated and began to charge in once more hoping to devour their defiant meal. Davis spun his staff in the air and prepared to defend himself as long as his skill would hold out. He slammed the metal rod through three of their gaping jaws, severing the muscles and connecting tissues, and watched them fall to the ground in heaping slumps of scarred meat.

Two more attempt to jump the young Paladin from behind. He tapped his staff on the ground much lighter than before and pushed them back only a few feet as he wildly swung his staff and slapped them both across the chest. The force knocked them back into another set of creatures attempting to move in position for a better chance at their supper but caught nothing but their own brothers in their hungry mouths.

The battle could not continue like this. Davis knew he had to do something to put these monsters down for good. He didn’t have enough time to draw his runes on the ground to trap half of them let alone the whole lot. His staff was constantly being used in defense. There wasn’t a moment where it wasn’t either striking down a potential assailant or spinning in his hands preventing others from drawing close.

Another set of creatures lunged at him this time. Four of them had jumped from opposing sides with their mouths wide open and their claws drawn forth. The Paladin held his staff close and when the timing was just right, he spun it over his head. The beasts locked their jaws and slammed their fangs into the staff. All of them kept their bites sealed on the Paladin’s weapon. There was no way he was going to be able to fend them off now with all of that excess baggage on his primary weapon. It was time to teach these creatures and the doctor upstairs the meaning of Davis’ first title.

Soft clouds of light began to flow out of the Paladin’s eyes. His hands burned and channeled the unbridled fury of nature’s most dangerous element. The entire staff became engulfed in roaring flames. Fire exploded, completely consuming their hulking frames and roasting the beasts as they howled in agony. With their grip released, Davis slammed his staff into the ground once more and drove the monsters back with a violent wave of air. He extended his arm out and began drawing a circle around him. Flames began to trail and soon grew to heights of nearly five feet in length.

The beasts began to snap at the flames but none dared to cross. Davis knew he couldn’t beat them like this. It was a power play. This was a good method of intimidation for regular soldiers but on the mindless, it worked even better. Their only method of attack was melee and with this move Davis bought himself the precious moments he needed to wait for the answers to his prayer.

This was not supposed to happen. Nothing in the doctor’s collective data could have ever prepared him for the sight that is unfolding in his warehouse. He had spent months calculating, testing, and executing his research in order to create an unbeatable army. Never in his life could he have dreamed that there existed someone that could manipulate science as if it were mere sorcery.

Shin cursed the mere thought out of his mind. That couldn’t be true. There was always a scientific explanation for everything that exists in this universe. Every cell, every atom, every piece of matter has a history that can always be explained through logic and reason. And yet, here stood a man that could swat away the deadliest creatures ever created as if they were flies. They attacked him from all fronts and he pushed them back with an invisible force. They tried to swarm him and he bathed them in flames then commanded the fire to do his bidding. The doctor had never seen anything like it and every ounce of his intellect couldn’t even begin to process a rational explanation. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and he was possessed to find out exactly what was causing him such undue stress.

The beasts though rabid and wild, were still under Shin's control. They were unable to respond to any direct orders and their programming was limited to attack targets only Shin deemed worthy; mainly anyone but himself and a few select others. They had no functioning brains. Instinct was their only recourse. However, nothing is a greater deterrent to their biologically programmed habits than the element of fire. If they couldn't take down the target now, there would be no hope for further conquest. Their mission would end right here and now. It was time to end this charade.