by James Hunt
“I was told you were the best in the field of combat.” The voice echoed with a timbre that could only be found in an open space like the warehouse. “For the first time in my life, I feel excited for this mission.”
“It’s a side-effect I cause in most men,” Sarah said, her eyes darting between the screen on her forearm and her immediate surroundings. He was close, just around the next pile of pallets. “Though, as a professional, I must warn you of some of the more unusual side-effects you may experience, including and not limited to headache, broken bones, ball crunching, and overall psychological demoralization.”
“You are different, aren’t you?”
Again the voice bounced around, and Sarah’s pulse raced as she neared the edge of the pallet where the test-tube growth stood on the opposite side. “I like to think so.” Sarah spun around, pistols aimed at the location where the assassin was supposed to have been standing, but she only saw a small silver box where the image on her display had shown where the hulk had stood.
“That’s not good,” Sarah said.
The heat image on her screen suddenly disappeared.
“Look out!” Bryce said.
Sarah ducked, but not before she caught a piece of the wrought-iron fist that clipped the side of her head. She spun around, evading the beast’s heavy blows as she backtracked behind the stack of pallets and squeezed off two rounds from her Colts, missing her target by a mile. “Damn, this boy is fast!”
Sarah kept the ends of her Colts glued to the bolting image ducking around the tall stacks of pallets, none of her bullets making contact with anything except wood or concrete.
Shells littered the floor around her feet, and when she swiped down on her belt to reload fresh magazines into the pair of 1911s, the beast moved in and knocked them from her hands in two quick strikes.
Sarah thrust a fist forward, and the beast easily dodged left. She snarled and reached for the knife at her belt, slicing the sharp piece of steel through the air. She slashed left and right, the burn in her shoulder accompanied by a smile on the assassin’s face providing an irritating reminder that she had yet to make contact.
A massive hand snatched her wrist that held the knife out of the air like a viper strike and gave a twist that immediately released the blade from her grip. Sarah heaved all of her weight behind the next strike, and the assassin caught her fist in mid-swing with his free hand, completely immobilizing her.
“The files I studied about you indicated your superior mastery of hand-to-hand combat, and that combined with your speed and agility would make you a formidable opponent.” The assassin grimaced. “I see that the records are wrong.” He flung her back, and Sarah stumbled a few steps before getting her feet back under her. The bastard was working her like a puppet, and what was worse was that he knew it.
Sarah drew in a breath and cracked the knuckles on her fists. “I’m just getting warmed up, sweetheart.”
The hulk coiled his body, poised to strike, and then raised his fists. “If you mean to kill me, then I would suggest you do it quickly. ”
Sarah cracked her head to the left, then right, and pressed off her right foot and sprinted toward the behemoth. Again, she pressed the attack, and again, he evaded her punches with an ease that pissed her off more than Bryce’s incessant yapping in her ear.
The dance continued around the cement floor, Sarah’s impact punches landing just shy of their target, and the behemoth looking as though he was getting bored, which only exacerbated her rage. She felt her pulse race even more quickly, her muscles tighten an ounce harder, and her focus become more honed, and on the next swing of her right fist, she felt the concrete-like abs crash against her knuckles and fingers.
Sarah wasn’t sure if the look on the behemoth’s face was from shock or pain, but either way, it triggered a smile across her own. “Told you I’d catch up.” She followed up with a quick sweep of the legs that missed, but then she landed a left jab to his arm then a right hook to the center of his stomach, all the while, her eyes and body dodging the quick, retaliatory strikes from the boulder-sized fists of the beast.
The assassin bellowed a roar rooted in frustration and then planted one of those fists into Sarah’s chest, knocking the wind from her lungs and sending her tumbling end over end in a summersault until she skidded to a stop on her stomach.
With zero time to assess just how many organs were now failing from that one hit, Sarah leapt back to her feet, jumping out of the way of the freight train meant to flatten her into the concrete. Her boots scraped across the floor, and she was immediately forced back onto defense.
The flurry of strikes that the assassin threw was more than just brute strength, more than just speed—they were processed with a calculated efficiency that Sarah had never seen.
The man’s bones were like pieces of steel, but with every strike and with every blow, Sarah could start to see the wear and tear, and when she saw the first bead of sweat break out on his forehead, she knew she had gotten farther than he’d intended her to.
And as if he could sense Sarah’s arrogance, he quickly landed a strike to her jaw that sent a swirl of stars and birds circling around her head and left a tingling numbness from her head all the way down to her toes.
A pair of meaty hands gripped her by the throat and lifted her off the floor and into the air, the constricting fingers slowly choking off her air supply. And from what Sarah managed to catch on the assassin’s face, she could tell he was no longer in the playful, robot-like mood from earlier. Now, he was pissed.
“You were a worthy adversary, but compared to me you are still insignificant.”
The grip around Sarah’s throat tightened. Her head felt as if it were going to explode, a throbbing pounding that was no doubt the choked pulse trying to pump more oxygen to her brain but unable to deliver. Still, with her cheeks flushing red, she managed to hear what Bryce whispered in her ear about two dozen combatants circling the warehouse, tracking the signal that Bryce had left for them to finish the missions set upon them by their various intelligence liaisons.
“Everything that I have read and everything I have studied in the field of espionage has told me that you are unequivocally the best in your field. You have taken what the human body is currently capable of in its present form, and for that, I owe you a debt of gratitude. It is because of you that I exist, and I give a promise that I will take the human form to levels that you could only dream of.”
Sarah smacked her palms against the beast’s forearms, the line of consciousness that connected her to the world outside her own mind fraying with every second that passed without air. But she managed to muster out two more words before the fury of hell descended upon both of them and, with any luck, would at least maim the beast enough to let Sarah kill him.
“You’re welcome,” Sarah said.
The glass of the windows of the warehouse shattered as tactical teams swung from their ropes and onto the warehouse floor. Doors cracked open and flattened against the concrete as more assassins with rifles flooded inside in search of Agent Hill and found more than they’d bargained for.
Bullets flew, and either from shock or the necessity to survive, the beast released Sarah from his grip and moved to engage the nearest asset meant to blow him off the face of the earth.
Sarah crumpled to the floor, time short to catch her breath as she scrambled to find her Colts, which the genetic freak had knocked from her hands at the start of their fight.
A pair of Chinese agents bumped into her when she stepped around one of the high-stacked pallets. They lifted to aim, but Sarah knocked the barrel of one of the pistols away in a clumsy swat, her vision still doubled from the lack of airflow, then punched him in the nose.
The second agent fired off three rounds into the pallet next to her head but stopped the moment Sarah wrapped her fingers around his throat, squeezing tightly. “Trust me, I know how much this hurts.” She kneed him in the groin then flung him backward. She reached into one of the com
partments on her belt and removed two syringes of sedatives meant to keep them unconscious and asleep until all of this was over. While the beast didn’t have any qualms about killing these men, she needed them alive if they were going to spin the tale that needed to be spun.
“Looks like everyone showed up to the party,” Bryce said. “You all right?”
“I’ll be better once that jolly green giant goes down for good.” A shimmer in Sarah’s left peripheral caught her attention, and she rushed to snatch the first Colt off the ground, finding the second not far from the first. “How many ended up coming?”
Screams pierced the commotion of fighting, and the percussive pops echoed even louder in the vaulted ceiling of the massive warehouse.
“We had takers from Russia, China, Israel, Pakistan, and India,” Bryce answered.
“I bet India can’t wait to get their hands on me,” Sarah said, sneaking up behind one of the Russians and stabbing him with another needle to knock him unconscious. She applied a muzzle adapter to her Colt and loaded the remaining syringes inside, six total. With her pistol now a loaded dart gun, she took care of India while Pakistan and Israel wrestled with Goliath. And judging from their screams and gunfire it didn’t sound like it was going well.
One by one, Sarah plucked the assassins out of harms way and jabbed them with one of the needles, and dragged them to safety. With spies from every major intelligence group now in their hands, it was bound to give them some leverage to be left alone. With all but two of her knock out darts administered, Sarah headed toward the end of the warehouse. “Anyone else looking for a good time?”
“Nope,” Bryce answered. “Everyone is either asleep or took off, but it looks like you’ve got at least one member from each agency. It’s just you and the big boy now.”
Sarah stepped back inside, and the gunshots ended, capped by a high-pitched scream and then the crack of bone. “Lucky me.”
Light-footed, Sarah darted around the edge of the warehouse, Runehart’s monster breathing heavily and, hopefully, slightly fatigued from the barrage of assassins that Sarah had invited to their date.
“Hill!” The thunderous beast’s voice echoed straight through to Sarah’s bones, rattling them as though he had gripped them in his massive hands. “I told you that I cannot be beaten. I told you that I will not fall. I am the future!”
Sarah tucked herself behind one of the offices meant to house the warehouse’s foreman and caught a glimpse of the beast’s arm as he paced around the stack of pallets. Blood shimmered on his skin, but whether it was his own or that of one of the dead agents on the floor, she wasn’t sure.
“You cannot run.” The beast took a deep breath, as if he was searching for her scent, which he caught, and immediately cast his eyes toward the office she had ducked behind for cover. “You cannot hide.”
Sarah raised both pistols, her face etched in an annoyed grimace usually reserved for Bryce’s most quarrelsome pestering. “I was never hiding, asshole.” She spun around the wall of the office, exposing herself as she lined up both pistols to the beast at the end of her sights.
The pair of darts ejected from the Colts and connected to the beast’s chest, and Sarah lifted her arms in triumph. “WOO-HOO! Suck it!” She capped the performance with a little dance, but when the behemoth didn’t fall her confidence waned. “Uh, Bryce? He’s still awake.”
The hulk blinked a few times and stared down at the needles sticking out of his shirt. He plucked the darts from his chest and tossed them aside, wavering on both legs.
“His body chemistry must have a faster metabolism rate than the drugs can handle,” Bryce said.
“And you didn’t tell me this before because why?” Sarah shouted, quickly removing the adaptors from her Colts so she could load in her normal ammunition.
“I didn’t know about that!” Bryce said.
The hulk stumbled two steps forward, then broke out in a shambled sprint, roaring like a lion. Sarah loaded a .45 magazine into the Colt and squeezed off one shot just before both pistols were smacked from her hands.
The bullet entered the beast’s left shoulder and it stumbled backward three steps before catching his balance. Sarah dove for the weapon on her left, but the beast cut her off, sending both of them sprawling over the concrete.
Limbs flailed and blood smeared over the floor and their bodies. Sarah got to her feet first and charged the Hulk, and worked a combo to his ribs; Left, right, left, right, left, before he was able to block her. While the drugs may not have knocked him out, they certainly slowed him down.
He countered with a jab that lit up the injured left side of her face. Another flash of light impaired her vision and another impact into her stomach sent her to the floor, though she barely felt it. What came next was darkness.
Everything went black, and she wasn’t sure how long she was out, but when she opened her eyes, the beast was towering over her, staggering from side to side, a massive stain of blood on his left shoulder.
Sarah looked down to her right hand, the Colt 1911 still resting in her opened palm. Her brain commanded her fingers to wrap around the weapon, but they wouldn’t listen, and before she knew it, the beast had lifted her off the floor and flung her across the concrete, where she rolled and skidded, smacking her elbows and knees, a dull rush of pain returning before her body numbed.
Heavy footsteps and labored breathing worked together in an eerie cadence as Sarah managed enough strength and coordination to turn her head to see the tree-trunk size legs making their way toward her.
“This ending was inevitable, Agent Hill.”
His voice cracked, and Sarah knew the bastard was tired. Even genetically altered humans could get tired; it just took a while.
“But you have proven your worth. I hope that gives you some solace.”
With shaky arms, Sarah pushed herself off the floor. When she raised her fists toward the beast, he stopped dead in his tracks. But the shocked expression vanished and was quickly replaced with the same blank stare he’d worn from their first encounter.
“What?” Sarah asked, some of the vision in her left eye still darkened. “Did you think we were done?”
The beast charged. He swung a heavy-handed fist toward her face, but she ducked and rolled away from the follow-up jab. She countered with two quick strikes to his ribs, and he winced, then roared another heavy cross, which she evaded.
Fists met bone, blood splattered, moans escaped battered lips and ragged breaths were drawn. Sarah felt the last bits of her will falling, but she grit her teeth and pushed through it, wearing the massive hulk down. They matched one another, swing for swing, blow for blow, and with each bomb delivered they drew closer to death. And then, suddenly, the hulk hunched over, blood dripping from his lip, and wheezing through what had to have been a punctured lung.
“This… can’t… be,” he said, and collapsed to his knees. He looked up to Sarah, who could barely stand on her own two feet, and shook his head in disbelief. “My body… it’s broken.”
Sarah stumbled forward, barely able to keep her fists raised. She fisted a clump of the man’s hair with her left hand, and cocked her right arm back, curling her fingers into a fist. “That’s what happens when you’re a little bitch.”
With every last bit of her strength she connected fist to face and dropped the giant to the floor. And moments after he collapsed, she did the same. Numbness washed over her body and she closed her eyes. “Bryce, send in the cavalry will you?”
“CIA is on their way, just hang on, Sarah,” Bryce said, his voice laced with worry. “Just think of all the smack-talk you’ll be able to tell Mallory and Mack once this is over. Stay with me.”
Sarah smiled. “Yeah, they won’t… know…” And, finally, the fatigue and pain that had bottled itself up for so long finally rushed out in one fell swoop, and she blacked out.
Chapter 13
The sharp pain up the side of Sarah’s leg was the first thing she felt. The second was the throbbing hea
dache, and the third was the change of clothes that were dramatically lighter than the ones she remembered wearing before.
“Thank God, you’re awake.”
The voice came from Sarah’s left, and when she squinted, she saw a blurry Becca and immediately felt the warmth of her hand.
“You feeling okay?” Becca asked.
Before Sarah even had a chance to answer, a woman wearing scrubs entered and started checking the machine next to Sarah’s bed then picked up her arm and prodded her with a needle.
“Ow,” Sarah said, her throat scratchy and raw.
The nurse finished the injection and checked the vitals. “If you need anything, just press the call button.”
“Thank you,” Becca said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Sarah replied, rubbing the spot on her arm where she’d been pricked. Becca’s figure came into view more clearly, and when Sarah realized that she was the only one in the room—
“The twins.” Sarah jolted upright, and Becca placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“They’re fine,” Becca answered. “They’re with Bryce and Grace.”
Sarah collapsed back onto her pillow and let out a sigh, closing her eyes, the coolness of the pillow and sheets beneath her offering the same relief to her body that the news offered to her mind. But when she opened them again, Becca retained an expression of hesitancy. “What?”
Becca held a portion of Sarah’s bedsheet, twisting it nervously in her hands as she cast her head down for a moment, as though she was trying to think of the best way to break the news to her. “You’ve been out for almost thirty-six hours, Sarah, and there are some things you need to know.”
The muscles along Sarah’s stomach and neck tightened as she propped herself up on her elbows, leaning forward, the machine monitoring her heart rate beeping more quickly as her pulse raced.
