Mayhem's Warrior: Operation Mayhem

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Mayhem's Warrior: Operation Mayhem Page 20

by Lindsay Cross


  Pain slammed into her chest with every single heartbeat. How could she have been so naïve? She’d blindly accepted the fact that he’d been there to rescue her while all along he had wanted something from her.

  He’d wanted to take her blood just like Dr. Winters had.

  Reaper had witnessed her father’s murder—had possibly even taken part in it—but he’d still let her throw herself at him. He’d taken her virginity, knowing all along what he wanted her to do for him, knowing that her father was dead and she didn’t know.

  Bile rushed up her throat, her body kicked into survival mode as she sucked in enough oxygen to vomit the contents of her stomach onto the floor next to the cot. She’d done things with Reaper that she’d never done with anyone else. And he had only gone along with it out of a desire to keep her compliant.

  Caroline continued to heave, empty dry retching, because there wasn’t anything else left in her stomach to come up. How could he? She had told him that she loved him. Worse than that, she did love him.

  She could still see the lost and broken part of him despite his hateful words. It was that part that drew her to him.

  Oh, God, it was too much. She couldn’t process it. She’d taken him into her body, into her mouth, worshiping him both physically and in her heart.

  The pain was too much. Her thoughts fractured into a million shards of painful glass, slicing through her very being. He’d kidnapped her for her blood and then left her to die in this hut where they’d made sweet love.

  Pain stabbed her temples and sounds from the jungle seemed to swoop in en masse, roaring in her ears. Her skin burned from the hot, humid air. The roughened ropes beneath the quilt seemed to slice through the skin of her back.

  Her back bowed off the bed, and blackness flickered at the edges of her vision, but the agony didn’t subside. Her brain seemed like it was swelling, and stabbing pain and shooting fire coursed a trail down her neck.

  She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out.

  25

  “She’s seizing, get me the syringe now!” Dr. Melissa Averton rushed into the hut, flanked by General Rainier’s soldiers.

  Caroline Cotter was bound to the cot, her entire body convulsing. Strings of foamy saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth and her eyes had rolled back in her head. If they didn’t dose her soon, her brain would rupture and she’d die from a massive aneurysm. “Dammit, who’s got the syringe? Now!”

  Dr. Averton extended an open palm and the requested needle was placed in her palm.

  “You three, get her arms and legs and pin her to that bed. I can’t afford to miss.”

  The soldiers replied with a grunt, but they followed her command. Everyone knew the order to return Caroline Cotter unharmed had come straight from the general. He’d have their heads if they didn’t comply. The heaviest one lay across her chest and the other two each took a leg. Dr. Averton went straight for the bulging blue vein in the crook of her arm and injected Caroline with a cocktail of sedatives and serum. She’d seen it used on one of the soldiers in Project Mayhem before. It was the only thing that had brought him back from the brink of death.

  “Is she going to make it?”

  Dr. Averton turned to face the man she had begun to despise: General Rainier.

  “I won’t know for sure until the medicine has had time to take effect. When Quantum reacted like that, he nearly died. And then John Dawson, well, you were there, weren’t you? You saw what happened to him.” She fought to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice and remain as level as possible, just like her mentor, Dr. Winters. But unlike her mentor, Melissa couldn’t distance her emotions from the pain and suffering of the soldiers she had been assigned to study.

  The general waved a dismissive hand in the air and brushed past her, coming to stand directly beside the unconscious Caroline. “I don’t care about those men. She is the key. I’ll probably never get my hands on her twin sister again, and I have orders to fulfill.”

  “These men and women are not stable enough to send out on their own. Can’t you see that?” And the thought of trading soldiers to other governments, another objective of the project, made her stomach turn. She had joined Project Mayhem to save lives by making the soldiers stronger and faster. Instead the instability and severe side effects had left them all with large, gaping weaknesses. “And we still don’t even know their full capabilities. We haven’t had enough time to perform all the studies.”

  “I’ve seen enough to know these fuckers sure are a lot faster than normal. Reaper suffered a near mortal gunshot wound, but he walked out of this hut without so much as a limp. They’re healing faster than we thought. Good enough.”

  Dammit, it wasn’t good enough. All the other subjects she’d run through the program, both men and women, had suffered debilitating seizures and breakdowns. And then the audio-logic trigger … she had to fight a fit of chills.

  After Reaper killed Dr. Winters, Melissa had stepped into the role as lead researcher. She’d read all the data and watched all the videos, trying to familiarize herself with every single detail of the operation, and the things she’d seen had made her stomach churn.

  Whether the soldiers were aware of it or not, Dr. Winters, Mankel, and General Rainier had conspired to implant a device near the subject’s brain that was triggered by a 20,000 Hz frequency—a frequency undetectable to the human ear. But it was a device implanted directly into the cerebellum that turned off their ability to control their most basic instincts to kill and stimulate violence. Melissa hadn’t quite figured out how the general triggered the implant, but the video she’d seen was proof positive—Reaper’s team had been turned into unthinking monsters. They’d been forced to slaughter an entire group of lab technicians, all while Winters, Rainier, and Jack Mankel watched.

  Winter’s entire existence in life had been to study and dissect. Jack Mankel had been driven by revenge; he’d wanted to punish Caroline and Nightshade’s father and had ultimately succeeded. The senator was now dead. It’d taken Melissa a while to figure Mankel out, but it had taken her all of a day to understand the inner workings of General Rainier. His evil was simple—he was driven by an unholy thirst for power and money.

  It was beyond her how he’d managed to rise to the rank of four-star general before his evil was revealed. Melissa had gone into Project Mayhem when it was still a government-sanctioned and funded program. After Rainier and Mankel had taken the program rogue, she’d stayed on as a buffer, doing everything she could to ensure the soldiers were protected.

  Someone had to.

  She needed more time to plan; she had just about figured out a new strain that was stable enough to allow the subjects to operate on their own without weekly injections of the serum, but she still wasn’t quite there. In order for her to complete her research, she needed General Rainier on her side. For now. “I’m assuming your buyers are high-ranking officials?”

  She kept her voice cold, acting as if she didn’t really care.

  The general responded by puffing up his chest like a peacock in heat. “I have presidents begging for my soldiers.”

  Melissa tapped her chin and began to pace back and forth at the end of Caroline’s bed, forcing the few grunts that still filled the hut to move out of her way. “And these presidents are expecting a complete package? Completely undetectable enhanced soldiers who can operate independently?”

  “Of course. You think they’d pay me billions of dollars for anything less?” His tone was scathing, like she was an ignorant child who needed instruction.

  Melissa wanted to slap that look right off his face, but her soldiers needed her. She couldn’t risk getting put off the project. “And what will these presidents do when your men begin to break down and die? Without continuous dosages of the serum, they won’t make it more than a month at the most.”

  “These people have been waiting months for me to fulfill my promise. They’re not going to wait another year so you can fine-tune your little study.�
��

  Melissa stopped pacing and faced the general, shoulders square. She sucked in a breath and lied between her teeth. “I don’t need a year. I’ve had enough time now to go back through all of Winters’s data. I think I’ve figured out the key to stabilizing the dosage. With a fresh batch of Caroline Cotter’s blood, and enough time to create and test a new strain, I’ll have your solution. Give me a month, and I can fix the holes in the molecular bonding process that are causing the breakdown in the protein spiral.”

  A flare of interest flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly banked. “English, please, Doctor.”

  Oh, he’d understood enough of what she’d said to know the implications. “Without casting any aspersions on my mentor, she made a small mistake in her calculations when creating the dosage. It happens sometimes when researchers get too deep into their projects. They stop seeing the trees for the forest.”

  “And you see the trees?”

  Melissa nodded. “I see them, and I can fix the ‘bad’ ones. I can create a serum that will not only bond with the subject’s DNA, it will permanently alter it so that continual injections won’t be necessary. In turn, stabilizing the synthesis process should eliminate most of the unpleasant side effects, allowing the soldiers to move about society freely without pain.”

  “And why would you do this? Money?”

  He was testing her, baiting her to see if she was telling the truth. Melissa knew he’d never believe her if she claimed to be driven by greed. She had never cared about that, and everyone knew it. She had to be as honest as possible; the general wasn’t stupid. She lifted her chin and stared him directly in the eyes when she answered, “Although I despise the fact that you are doing this purely out of greed, without a care for these men’s lives, I’ll do the work to protect my subjects. I know I have no say over where they go when they leave my lab, but I want to know that they will live when they do.”

  The general studied her for a moment, cupping his chin with his finger and thumb. Melissa fought the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny. If he didn’t buy her bluff about the timeline, all of her plans to free the people trapped in Project Mayhem would be for nothing. The general would find another researcher, someone who didn’t care about human life, and ultimately that would lead to the destruction of Caroline and everyone else involved.

  Finally, the general grunted and dropped his arms. “I’ve never understood you brainy types, all about the data and your precious subjects. I’ll give you three weeks. Three weeks to create a fully enhanced assassin capable of existing on its own. After that, they’re going out, ready or not.”

  It was longer than she could’ve hoped for. Sucking in a breath and keeping her face as expressionless as possible, Melissa nodded in response. “As much as I hate to say it, it will make you more money in the end. When word gets out that your soldiers are everything we promised they’d be, every government in this entire world will be knocking on your door.”

  She could practically see the wheels of greed turning in his mind. If there was one thing that drove this man, it was money. Greed was a weakness—any addiction to anything could be manipulated for control.

  “So, I’m to believe you’re doing this purely out of your altruistic need to take care of your subjects?”

  There was that thread of doubt again. She’d miscalculated him. A man like the general couldn’t comprehend the fact that anyone else would work for a purpose not completely motivated by self-interest. “Mainly, yes.” She shrugged. “I also want my name moved up to lead researcher on Project Mayhem.”

  General Rainier’s entire demeanor shifted and his lips curled into a cruel smile. “The truth at last.”

  “If I’m going to put in all the work and fix Dr. Winters’s mistakes, my name deserves to be at the top.”

  He strolled forward, his movements casual, although edged with a predatory grace he could never hide. “I can give you that. You see, Dr. Averton, I understand people, and on their most basic level, people are driven by one of two things—the thirst for power or revenge. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is lying. You’d do well to remember that.”

  She wanted to take a giant step back, so that she didn’t have to breathe in his overbearing cologne. Everything about this man turned her stomach, but she couldn’t back down yet. It would be a mistake. “I’ll take that advice under consideration. Now, we need to get her out of this filthy hut before she catches some sort of infection. There’s no telling what type of wounds she suffered. I can see the bruising on her exposed skin. That, and the fact that Reaper left her tied to the cot means there’s no telling what he’s done to her. We both know he’s not stable.”

  “And I still don’t know why I let you convince me to allow him to leave.”

  “Because I planted a tracker on him, and this was our first chance to observe one of the original subjects in the field, moving free of restriction. Plus, he’s desperate, and desperation drives a man to do things he wouldn’t normally do. What better way for us to see the extent of his abilities than when he has the added drive of saving his team.”

  She’d planted the trackers in the original team in Project Mayhem in the beginning, and she’d never disabled them. General Rainier planned to use Reaper to deliver his team and recapture them before they could disseminate any information about their illegal project and possibly put an end to his cash grab. But she had no intention of allowing the general to access their location, even if she had to destroy every computer in the lab herself.

  “You know, you surprise me. I thought Dr. Winters was uncaring, but you truly are a coldhearted bitch.”

  Melissa kept her fake smile plastered in place, praying her teeth didn’t break from clenching so hard. “It has nothing to do with being a bitch, general. Reaper’s team is my baseline to measure all the other subjects’ results against. I’d call it a necessity.” Melissa reached into her pocket, shifting her hips casually, as if she weren’t even now clutching the remote to Reaper’s tracking device. “I need those men to validate my results. And I need you to bring them back safely in order for me to accomplish my goal.”

  Rainier’s sadistic smile stayed in place when he answered, “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about, Dr. Averton. I want those men back as badly as you do.”

  “Alive and in good health?”

  The general didn’t even hesitate when he lied straight through his teeth. “Of course.”

  Melissa triggered the alarm on the tracking unit and pulled her hand from her pocket. She’d just activated the tiny electrodes within the device, which would send a nearly debilitating shock to the area around the neck—the implant location for the device. She had to rely on her most basic instinct that Reaper was a good and decent soldier. At least, he had been before Project Mayhem.

  His psychological profile clearly indicated a traumatic youth and adolescence, which would make it nearly impossible for him to bond with anyone, but he must have realized that Caroline’s life was in jeopardy while she was under the power of General Rainier.

  A good soldier would sacrifice himself to save the innocent, and Reaper had signed up himself and his team based on that basic principle. They had been willing to go into completely unknown territory for the betterment of the United States and the safety of its people. No matter how much they’d been altered by the tortuous experiment, Reaper’s basic nature was good, whether he realized it or not.

  Dr. Melissa Averton just had to pray he’d come to that realization in time.

  26

  Reaper yanked the camouflage netting off the small helicopter he’d stashed at the edge of the jungle. It could accommodate two people, but that wasn’t something he had to worry about now.

  He had the serum. That was the only thing that mattered.

  He didn’t need Caroline Cotter or her feelings. He needed to remember who he was—a cold-blooded assassin without a family and without any hope for an existence outside his training.

  He dug in
the wet dirt at the front end of the helo, pulled out the small metal box containing the keys, and opened the bubble-shaped glass door. Two empty seats greeted him.

  Caroline should be here. You left her tied up on that bed. Anything could happen to her.

  Sweat formed along his brow and dripped down his arms. Climbing into the cab of the helo was a lot harder than he’d anticipated. He couldn’t stop looking back over his shoulder, as if he had X-ray vision that could slice through the miles of trees and jungle separating them.

  Not that he wanted to see her tear-stained face. Or pretend like he didn’t feel the guilt wrapping around his spine and digging in deep.

  Maybe he should go back—

  He climbed inside and sat down, fisting his hands on his thighs, fighting every muscle in his body to keep from rocketing back through the jungle. The thought of her alone in that hut made it hard to breathe.

  No, he couldn’t afford to be emotionally attached to her.

  He jammed the key into the ignition. As soon as he got the drugs to his team, he’d come back for her, and by then he would’ve had enough time to rid himself of this weakness of wanting things he couldn’t have.

  By then, he would be just as numb on the inside as he had been since losing his best friend in the streets of Afghanistan.

  By then, maybe he could look at Caroline and not feel this hollow ache in his chest.

  Reaper tightened his hand on the key but didn’t rotate it to the right.

  Instead he sat back in his seat, staring straight ahead.

  He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave her.

  She meant more to him than his team or his sanity.

  He grabbed his gun and the serum and took a step from the cab. He didn’t know how, but he had to get her back.

  Burning shockwaves of electricity seared outward from the base of his skull, blazing a path across his neck and shoulders. He seized, falling from the open door of the copter onto the ground.

  He grabbed his head and screamed.

 

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