Project Terminal: Devil’s Virus
by
Olivia Starke
Project Terminal: Devil’s Virus
Copyright © 2013, Olivia Starke
ISBN: 9781937325923
Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.
Electronic Publication: October, 2013
Editor: Pamela Tyner
Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs
eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Back Cover Copy
Max must put old heartaches aside and trust Reed to help her while she develops the cure for the devil’s virus.
Dr. Maxwell Straight once committed her life to sparing families the pain of losing loved ones in war. While she had the best intentions for her role in Project Terminal, her twin sister, Dr. Marguerite ‘Doc’ Straight, had different ideas. When Max suggested using a deadly virus to help speed healing to super soldiers injured in the field, her sister turned it into a horrific weapon of mass destruction instead. Now Max must trust a man who broke her heart to keep her safe while she develops a cure for what she started.
Adam ‘Preacher’ Reed saw what was coming in Project Terminal long before anyone else. When his warnings fell on deaf ears he turned away from the project, and Max, for good. He’d given his body to science, but he wouldn’t sell his soul. Now Max needs his help to stop the spread of the undead plague, and he’ll do anything to see the project fall. What he doesn’t count on are the feelings he still holds for the scientist who chose her twisted work over him. Can he keep Max alive long enough to develop the cure? Or will his worst fears be realized—losing his heart to Max, and their lives to the project?
Content Warning: graphic sex, strong language, and violence
Dedication
As always, this is dedicated to my readers.
Chapter 1
“We’re ready for bigger tests. We need to see how the R1LN behaves in mass doses.”
Doc stared at her latest experimental reports before turning her attention to the burly man across from her desk. She considered his statement. “I don’t think it’s wise to make the public aware of what we’re doing. Not at this point.”
General’s face flushed dark red—his temper was too easily strained. “We don’t need goddamn permission, Doc. If we’re going to weaponize this virus we have to know it works first.”
“I agree, but we still have a stumbling block—Laura Swift. We need her blood samples, or better yet, her, to find a way around her immunity. Which will be damned impossible with Gonsalves in the way.” Doc sighed, leaning her elbows on the desk. “So her blood work is our utmost priority. With Doug out of the way, I know my sister is next on the list to help find a cure. If a cure is found, that’s the end of the project and all our sacrifices.”
“What we need are real live individuals as test subjects.” General slammed his beefy fist down on the desktop, making Doc jump. “Let’s find some of that human waste living on the streets—junkies, prostitutes, no one will ever miss ’em. People will be grateful to be rid of the trash.”
Irritation flared. “And what would you have us do, turn loose another infected like Mary into the general population? Then sit back and watch how it spreads? Her escape was an unfortunate accident. Any day now what we’ve created will be plastered all over the news and we’ll be royally screwed. The one thing I can thank Gonsalves for is keeping the whole fuck up a secret. Now he’s too concerned with that little twat, Laura, to keep hunting. We’ll be nothing more than domestic terrorists, and this virus is too important to be stopped for such asinine reasons.”
“You’re making a huge mistake, Doc. Like you said, we’re livin’ on borrowed time. The government has already backed out and demanded we shut down Project Terminal.”
“Exactly, that’s why we have to keep our heads down or be tried for terrorism. Once we have R1LN perfected, I’m sure the government will see what a valuable asset it can be for national security.”
General shook his head, reminding her of an angered bull. “I can’t talk sense into you.”
Doc leaned back in her chair and leveled a hard look on him. “I’m the one with the IQ here, General. You’re the one with the men. You lead them and make sure I get what I need, namely, find out where my sister, Maxwell, is. Give me her location, then let me deal with her. If anyone can talk her back over to our side, I can. We need Max’s expertise.”
“What if you can’t? What are we going to do with her?”
“She’s my sister, and like I said, I’ll deal with her. If she becomes a danger like Doug Martin…well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
General didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, but luckily kept his mouth shut. At the door he paused and turned back. “Who the hell would name a girl Maxwell anyway?”
“She’s named after our dead father, any other stupid questions?”
General left her alone.
* * * *
“I think we’re finished.” Max studied the miniscule incision she’d made to remove the tracking device. Something that must’ve come later in Project Terminal, none of the soldiers she’d worked on had been tagged. The offending thing had been implanted in a good spot, directly between the man’s shoulder blades. Impossible for him to find on his own, and a good challenge for her to discover, it’d taken several hours. “You’re good to go.”
She patted the soldier’s shoulder then shoved her glasses back up her nose. The afternoon air hung thick with moisture, clogging her pores, making her sweat. Typical for Louisiana weather in the summer. Little air flowed through the barn where she’d set up her makeshift office, not an ideal place. Abandoned and sitting well off the highway next to a home destroyed long ago by high winds and flooding.
The muscles beneath her patient’s olive skin flexed and moved while he grabbed his t-shirt. He was an impressive specimen of masculinity—above average height, over developed musculature and high intellect—requirements for the program. All of the super soldiers shared these traits.
She looked over his back. “You’ve got a few more scars than the last time I saw you.”
“Part of the job. Thanks for the help, Max.” He turned to her, his eyes dark beneath the poor lighting. “I’m in your debt.”
She grinned and picked up the glass jar filled with a mild acid solution she’d dropped the tracker into. The device looked like a filament line and was only a centimeter long. “Incredible how far technology has come, isn’t it, Damian?”
He took the jar and held it up to the light. “It’s disarmed, right?”
“Yeah, not much can handle an acid bath. It’ll completely dissolve in an hour or so.”
He stepped toward the door. “Great, let’s get to work.”
She blocked his path. “Not so fast. What do you think you’re doing?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “We need to get out to Strong Stock then dig us up an undead test subject.”
“No, Damian, you need to go back to Laura. She’s the most important asset we have at the moment.”
Laura Swift…the only person to have survived after being infected by the R1LN virus. A virus which had escaped into the general population with horrific consequences. So far fatalities were low, but given time…
He scowled, his face flushing dark. “She’s more than an asset, goddamn it. She’s a human being. Why the fuck can’t you scien
tists see that?”
She blinked, taken aback by his outburst. “I-I apologize, Damian. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “You didn’t deserve that, you had nothing to do with her hospitalization. It’s been a long week. Laura gets out of the ICU tomorrow and I haven’t slept much.”
A smile quirked her lips, seeing a side to the soldier she hadn’t witnessed before. No doubt he’d come to care for his ward. “Laura’s a lucky woman to have you keeping such a close eye on her. It’s good she’s making a full recovery from her gunshot, she’s purely a victim in all of this.”
He grunted a reply while staring at his boots.
Oh, he’s definitely fallen for her. Good for him. Damian had been too much a loner. “Anyway, you don’t need to go with me to Strong Stock. I have someone else coming.”
His head snapped up. “The hell?”
“Easy now, it’s someone we can trust.” She nibbled her bottom lip.
“Who is it?”
She hesitated, already knowing the coming reaction. “Adam Reed.”
His nostrils flared and he worked his jaw. “You got Preacher? You sure you can deal with that?”
Max winced, she’d been played by the Marine. Even though she’d sworn their relationship was casual, her feelings had gotten the best of her. And Reed had walked away without a second thought. “Look, he’s competent and has all the, uh, superhuman advantages you have. And like I said, you have other priorities—to keep Laura safe and out of the project’s hands.”
Damian’s eyebrows had drawn together, making him look even more formidable than usual. “You got Preacher, that Bible spouting nut-job? What about hunting? I’m your best hope of finding someone infected.”
Max removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Former Marine sniper Adam Reed had been involved in Project Terminal during the early days, same as she had. He’d gone through the enhancements, making him stronger, faster, with greater endurance than any normal person could handle. Everything down to his reflexes had been altered to make him a better soldier. A painful process, and once it’d been the most important thing in the world to see it succeed. For her and her twin sister at least. But he’d left, the first person to walk away from what they’d been trying to accomplish. Reed had seen what was coming long before anyone else. And in leaving he’d abandoned her and she hadn’t noticed any regret on his part.
“Preacher said he’d do anything to bring Project Terminal down. We can trust him, and what happened between he and I was long ago. It wasn’t as serious as everyone made it out to be. As far as finding a person infected with the virus, if you could put us on the trail, he and I could do the take-down.”
Damian didn’t seem convinced. “You seriously trust Preacher to watch your back? He walked away from everything without a second thought. What’s to say he won’t do the same thing again while justifying it with his fundamentalist bullshit?”
She knew Reed to be anything but a fundamentalist—his reputation with women preceded him into the project, which should’ve kept her at a safe distance. “His personal beliefs would never put me in danger.” She lifted a hand when Damian opened his mouth. “I believe that with all my heart.”
Damian’s eyes flashed. “Your heart had damn well stay out of this, or you’ll get your ass handed to you, Max. I’m not saying this to be a bastard, I want you to watch yourself with him.”
The two of them had been friends for a long time, and she appreciated his concern. Though she’d done her best to remain professional with the men in the program, Reed’s looks hadn’t escaped her. Blond hair, blue eyes, an all-American boy with a body recreated into physical perfection. Not that he’d needed much help. Out of all the soldiers he’d had the best physique to work with.
The only son of a Baptist preacher, Reed still carried part of his childhood faith with him, and didn’t even object to the nickname he’d been strapped with. Max respected his beliefs, even if the other soldiers scoffed. Maybe that had been part of his draw. Not many in her circle had any kind of religion outside of science—including her.
“Please, Damian.” She took his hand and squeezed it before releasing him. “I know what I’m doing.”
“If he doesn’t toe the line I’ve got a bullet for him,” Damian growled.
She folded her glasses and stuck them in her pocket. “I trust him. Just find us an undead, tag him with a tracking device, and let us do the rest.”
“You’re being naïve not to see Reed for what he is…self-serving.”
It took another five minutes of convincing before she hustled Damian out the door. Reed would arrive any minute. God knew she didn’t want to be in the middle of a confrontation between two super soldiers. After Damian left she turned her attention back to the notes she’d taken while interviewing him, along with what he’d taken from Headquarters. He’d spent the last year hunting down those infected with the virus. An infection which stole a person’s ability to think or feel anything outside of rage—a side effect of using the rabies virus.
Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders, because she’d been the one to suggest its use. But her motives had been pure, and she’d had the best of intentions. Originally they’d manipulated it into a healing serum for their injured super soldiers. A fast way to recovery from even the worst non-fatal injuries, mangled arms and legs could be salvaged when otherwise they’d have been amputated. At the time she’d had stars in her eyes, believing the best of her team. And when they’d found another use for R1LN she’d adamantly objected. Unfortunately, her sister had gone over her head, and she’d been kicked out of Project Terminal.
“Dr. Maxwell Straight, it’s been a while.”
Max squealed, whirling toward the baritone voice. Her gaze clashed with a pair of blue eyes, narrowed as they took her in from head to toe. She sucked in air, trying to steady her racing pulse. “Preacher, you scared the hell out of me.”
Chapter 2
Adam had watched the doctor and other soldier for a while, keeping his distance from the pair. Hidden by shadows within the trees, he’d climbed ten feet into a Pine and trained his rifle’s scope through the window of the abandoned barn. He didn’t quite trust anyone involved in Project Terminal. Even the woman who’d asked for help didn’t escape mistrust, despite their history. Images had popped to mind while he watched—memories of him and Dr. Straight he’d best keep buried. Digging them up would only make the job more difficult. His heightened hearing had picked up their conversation. He knew Damian to be a hard-ass and didn’t care to have a run-in with him. Not tonight. And when Max had taken Gonsalves’s hand…
Shunning the train of thought and its accompanying jealousy, Reed stepped forward and asked, “What’s the plan?” He purposefully invaded the doctor’s personal space, standing within a foot of her, wanting her off balance so it’d be easier to catch her in a lie. He excelled at reading people, which had made him a good sniper. And perfect for the project.
Her pale skin flushed dark pink and her gaze darted around the ramshackle interior of the structure. She was tired, distracted. “First, Strong Stock then we’ll need to find an infected person. We also need to find a lab where I can work, if you want to hang around that long.” She cleared her throat and tilted her chin to meet his eyes. “You’re here to ensure I retrieve what I need. The rest I can do on my own.”
He let his gaze travel down her figure again…tall and willowy, with short brown hair and matching eyes. She hadn’t changed much since he’d last laid eyes on her. A striking woman and he couldn’t help a visceral attraction. Once she could drive him to madness with little effort and he’d willingly given her that control. But things had changed; he’d realized the truth of the program she’d been involved with. Dr. Straight had been blind to the direction they were heading, and though he’d given his body to the scientists, he wouldn’t give his soul.
She stepped away, regaining distance. He wanted to reach ou
t and pull her back. Instead, he flexed his fingers at his sides. No need to let baser needs get the best of common sense. For ye suffer fools gladly…a Bible verse he’d held close since the day he’d walked away from Project Terminal. One of his father’s favorites—best keep others at arm’s length so one wouldn’t wind up a sacrifice to sin. Or, in his case, science.
“I’m here to take the project down, Dr. Straight, in whatever way you need.” Her formal title felt alien on his tongue, but necessary to keep things professional.
She blew out a breath. “Good. As you know, Strong Stock was kept secret, but who knows after all this time if it’s been found out. My sister is clever.”
“Doc is a drone, as I understand it. You were the brains.” He hadn’t meant it as flattery, only as the truth. Her twin sister, Dr. Marguerite Straight, had simply ridden her sister’s coattails until gaining what she’d needed to take over.
Dr. Straight shrugged. “We worked in tandem.”
He regarded her, unsure if modesty or guilt kept her from claiming credit for R1LN. Most likely a combination of both. “I want to leave tonight, under the cover of darkness in case Gonsalves was followed.”
“Okay, my car is parked down the road about a mile away at a gas station.”
She made for the door, but he caught her upper arm. The soft feel of her skin sent a shock of awareness through his blood. “Let’s take my rig, they know your car.” He didn’t release her immediately and she didn’t pull away. Her eyes darkened and her lips parted, a sight making his cock swell. He released her and turned, facing a side door. “We’ll need every advantage we can get.”
“Wait, Preacher.” She sounded out of breath.
He turned his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “What?”
“Call me Max. Please.”
* * * *
Strong Stock, the place Max and her former colleague Dr. Doug Martin had created after finding out the true motives of Project Terminal. Taken from their mothers’ maiden names Strong and Stockard, they’d used the area to hide information they believed might one day help bring down the project. Thus far they’d collected paperwork, and now, Laura Swift’s blood samples, thanks to Doug’s forethought. Doug, who’d been murdered by her sister while trying to trap Damian and Laura.
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