Legacy of a Mad Scientist (10 page)

He soon reached an unmarked door on an unnamed
street. It was, Ross admitted to himself, more of an alley, really.
He hadn’t caught even the slightest hint of a tail.

Ross reached out to the knob. and it turned under his
grasp, already unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside.

Even in the darkened apartment, he recognized
National Intelligence Director Stanwood. He stood with his deputy,
Von Kalt and a third agent.

An unseen man hit Ross in the head with what felt
like a brick, but was most likely a handgun.

When he woke, he discovered he’d been duct-taped to a
chair. Von Kalt was lightly slapping his cheek. Stanwood stood
nearby.

Ross laughed, snapped the tape securing his right arm
and grabbed Von Kalt by the throat. With a mighty effort, he
head-butted the deputy director in the face, breaking his nose.

An electrical jolt to the base of his skull stopped
Ross cold.

The duct tape was replaced with metal cuffs, fished
from Ross’s own gear in the safe house. This time he was splashed
with water, from well outside of arm’s reach.

Stanwood spoke. “If you think your friends are going
to save you, think again.”

“I’m not the one who needs saving,” Ross
answered.

Stanwood produced an arrest warrant and pointed to
Ross’s name. “You see that? Kelton Ross! That’s your name right
there. So instead of wasting everyone’s time, why don’t we just
jump ahead to the part where you tell me what I want to know.”

Ross spit at Stanwood.

Stanwood nodded to the agent standing behind the
major and another electric jolt was delivered to his wet frame.

“Fuck you,” Ross answered.

Von Kalt stepped forward with a left jab, followed by
a haymaker of a right, catching Ross square on the chin.

Ross heard Von Kalt’s fist crack. The sharp intake of
breath confirmed a cracked knuckle, at the least.

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you anything you
want to know. You guys are so tough.”

Another jolt of electricity to his spine, prolonged
this time.

Ross pushed the energy into his wrists; using the
taser to fight the cuffs, maybe loosen them. He laughed the whole
way through.

Stanwood gestured for the taser agent to step back.
“Cut his shirt off.”

Von Kalt, nursing a sprained finger from punching
Ross’s hard head, handed Stanwood his huge tactical buck knife.

Stanwood rolled his eyes but took the knife.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” he said, as he cut
the big man’s shirt off. “You’re a decorated veteran. They still
tell stories about you at Quantico. You’re the knight in shining
armor, rescued Ex-President Stagwell’s daughter single-handed. Took
three bullets on that one; didn’t you? You’re a goddamn legend,”
Stanwood said.

He finished with the shredded shirt and stepped back.
“But what is this?” he asked, pointing to a spot on Ross’s stomach.
“I read your file. You were shot here, here and here. But there’re
no scars.”

Stanwood drew his pistol and fired, the lead round
ripping into Ross’s stomach.

Ross coughed. “He was farther back.”

“Nice tattoo, by the way,” Stanwood said, admiring
the ink covering Ross’s left shoulder. “There’s nothing about any
tattoos in your file. How could a Major in the US Marine Corps get
something like that redacted from his file? I wonder.”

Across the room, Stanwood raised the gun and pointed
to Ross’s tattoo. “Tell us what’s up with your buddy, or I’m going
to have to have that taken back to the lab, for further
investigation. I mean it is clearly evidence of something.”

“My buddy?” Ross asked.

Stanwood pulled out his own audio player and played
Dr. Fox’s conversation with Dr. Te.

“Terillium can be detonated
,” came Dr. Fox’s
voice.

Stanwood looped it.

“Terillium can be detonated
,” Fox said, over
and over.

Stanwood stopped the player and stooped to Ross’s eye
level. “Why don’t you tell me about this latest episode of
treason?”

Ross said nothing.

“As we speak, federal officers are raiding the good
doctor’s home.”

“Then what do you need with me?” Ross asked.

Stanwood looked at his smoking weapon.

“Ahhhh, you didn’t get a warrant on him did you? Are
you going to call it some sort of ‘training mission’ when it all
goes south? Or you hoping your agents don’t finger you when Fox
gets a hold of them?”

“You’re right. The Attorney General refused to sign
the warrant, but that’s just a temporary delay. I will take
possession of the Micronix within the next few hours, and drop it
in a deep dark hole. Then you and your gang of thugs will never
threaten this Republic again.”

Ross spit out a mouthful of blood. “You’re the
threat, Stanwood. And now that I know it’s you behind all of this,
I will see you dead.”

“Ahhh therein lies the rub, Major. I’m not acting
alone. And besides, threatening a federal officer is an act of
treason, a capital crime, even for a Marine Corps Officer.”

“You can’t hurt me,” Ross said.

Stanwood smiled and handed Von Kalt the knife.

Von Kalt set down the ice he’d been holding on his
damaged hand and took the knife. He flexed the hand, but he didn’t
have the necessary mobility, as it had swollen up nicely.

“
I guess I’ll just have to do this
with my left then,” Von Kalt said. “Too bad for you,
chum.”

“Do your worst, Sally,” Ross taunted.

Von Kalt set about removing Ross’s tattoo with the
knife.

Lee and Buckner had already noticed a distinct lack
of response from their HQ. Several systems had gone off line,
short-circuited by the oil and flame. When the residence ignited,
the fireball confirmed their worst fears.

The three soldiers ahead of them broke formation. The
center man turned around and began to advance, coming back
downhill, his comrades moved to the flanks. They had the high
ground, Tactics 101. Buckner and Lee had been betrayed and were now
outnumbered at least two to one, with hostile forces in front and
behind.

Emergency fire systems kicked on in the command post,
evacuating the oxygen through a vent in the roof, producing another
bright fireball. Inside the building, the remaining flames were
extinguished with automated blasts of foam. The canyon faded into
darkness again.

Huddled in the open area between residential
backyards, Lee gave Buckner the signal for smoke. He gestured for
Buckner to throw his to the left, while he threw to the right. The
grenades popped and further obscured the summer evening.

The chief warrant officer told Buckner to attach his
silencer and pulled his from a pocket. Lee gestured for Buckner to
move back to a covered position, himself dashing off to the
left.

Two mercenaries came through the smoke, first one
from the left, followed by his comrade from the right. Confused,
they met and continued downhill toward Buckner's covered
position.

As Sergeant Buckner centered them in his sights, the
head of the man to the left exploded all over his brother in
arms.

The second man ducked, intent on returning fire.
Instead, Sgt. Buckner’s bullet ended his intentions. The sergeant
had been aiming for the man's midsection, but when he ducked, the
round went through the mercenary's chin, slapping into the
underside of the helmet.

Lee stepped out of the darkness and fired toward the
young sergeant.

Buckner heard a cry from behind; Bell fell dead, just
short of the sergeant's position. He looked down at the bodyguard
and back at the smoldering residence.

Lee dashed over to Bell, while Buckner kept an eye
out for the unexpected. He rolled the dead man onto his back. After
a cursory search of the mercenary's pockets, Lee discovered Captain
Faulkner's access card. It was the security team's only means of
access to the Fox residence, in case of an emergency.

Lee knew the rest of his team was probably dead, but
he was relieved to know that Dr. Fox and his family were still
secure. The three commandos represented little actual danger. They
were bait. Standard devices couldn't breach the exterior of the
home. Without the inside man and Faulkner's card, there was little
real threat to the family.

A suppressed shot rang out and slammed Buckner to the
ground.

Lee rolled back against the garage. He snapped the
card in half, stomped on the pieces and fired on the plastic bits,
just for good measure.

As he scanned for the remaining mercenary, Lee
wondered why they hadn't pulled out big money on this job. He'd
been afraid of facing down advanced bio-mechs, but these were just
regular guys. He felt cheated.

Buckner groaned from the manicured lawn. Lee realized
that at least the mercs carried suppressors. He wouldn't have to
worry about curious homeowners investigating the sounds of gunfire.
He scanned the hillside again but couldn't pinpoint the
shooter.

Lee realized he couldn't hide until daybreak, so he
leapt forward, grabbed the wounded sergeant by his belt and dragged
him to cover.

The canyon remained quiet.

Buckner woke. He pulled off his helmet and fingered
the burnt hole where the incoming round had ripped through the
cloth cover before striking the bulletproof composite, knocking him
senseless.

In the distance, they heard the approaching sirens of
the emergency crews dispatched to the ruins of their command
post.

Buckner relaxed against the garage wall, rubbing his
neck.

Lee placed a call to corporate, downtown.

It took Von Kalt almost twenty minutes to cut the
skin from Ross’s shoulder, using his clumsy left hand. He hadn’t
been careful. He’d peeled back the skin of the arm and shoulder
back and removed it, laying it flat on a nearby countertop.

Ross realized he must have passed out at some point,
but his senses were coming back. He could hear Stanwood arguing
with someone outside.

It was Croswell! Stanwood was arguing with Secretary
of Defense Croswell. One of Stanwood’s deputies was yelling now
too.

Ross heard a sharp crack and a stifled cry.

“This is between me and the director. If you get in
my face again, I’ll shoot you,” Croswell said.

Von Kalt moved over to the door, peering out through
the small tinted window. The agent with the taser was also
distracted, curious about what was going on outside.

Ross knew there was no way his old friend would get
Stanwood to back down. If Stanwood got caught interrogating Ross,
there would be hell to pay, and for Ross as well. He’d have to
explain kneecapping the agent at the taxi stand, and who he had
dinner with at Noodles. An official report simply would not do.

Ross snapped the cuffs upward, splintering the arms
of the chair and knocking the agent next to him backward. Using the
arms of the chair as batons, he beat Von Kalt and the other two
agents stupid, driving them from the safe house.

Once the feds were outside, Ross bit down and cracked
his rear molar, exposing the failsafe trigger. Another bite and the
safe house exploded.

The heavy metal door buckled outward, ripping from
its hinges, killing the closest agent, while knocking the man with
the taser, and deputy Von Kalt senseless.

Croswell and Stanwood’s argument was silenced for a
moment.

“Is this what you wanted, Joe?” Croswell asked.

“What the hell,” Stanwood muttered.

“Now he’s dead, you idiot. Now what are you going to
do?”

The Secretary of Defense gestured to his men, who
headed back to their idling vehicles.

“Jackass,” Croswell muttered, stepping into the
waiting transport.

Across town, Chief Warrant Officer Reid helped a
naked Major Ross climb from a decanting tank. This was the same
middle-aged Kelton Ross, but he had no scars or tattoos, though his
skin did have an odd bluish tint.

“This is it for a while, last legs” Reid said. “If
you mess this one up, your out of the game for six months.”

“We could always drop one from orbit,” Ross said,
coughing up mouthfuls of blue syrup.

“No, we can’t, actually. The Intel desk has activated
an orbital-breech quarantine. They have a dozen rapid response
teams for every time zone and both hemispheres. If we drop
anything, he’s going to have it covered like flies on a duce. We’re
cut off for a bit.”

“We should have been running dubs. Snow’s got the
right idea.”

“Should’a, would’a could’a,” Reid replied.

In his study, Dr. Andrew Fox sat before the monitor
bank. He'd observed the events of the evening, as they happened,
from security and satellite feeds, as well as from the Micronix
directly.

After everything that happened at Epsilon, the loss
of the scientists and convicts, Fox was still reeling. He’d been as
present for that as he was for the rest of it. The same man who had
argued with his daughter at dinner had been well aware of the
implosion that had taken place some three hundred miles way.

What he couldn’t explain was why he’d felt the need
to call Doctor Te in the first place.
It was his fault all this
had happened…
Well, at least Ross’s capture and the attack on
his home. Actually, the problems at Epsilon were his fault too. The
entire thing, the mess of his life, was entirely his
responsibility.

It had been years since he’d spoken to Lao.
Why
had he called him? Had he really known the facility would be
destroyed?

Now it seemed to be the only logical outcome, but he
hadn’t wanted to believe that, just hours ago. He hadn’t believed
it could happen so fast.

And who sent a team of mercenaries to attack his
home? Why hadn’t they just taken out warrants against him?

Fox looked down at his hands. The Micronix rested in
his right palm and the new, Metachron, rested in his left. He’d
tried to re-synchronize them, but it hadn’t worked. He tried
again.