Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2)

by Jacob Hammes

  “It’s nothing that can be helped,” Marcus said angrily. “Sometimes we track bad guys. Sometimes those bad guys end up getting the best of us.”

  “But Brenda,” Julie said, truly shocked at the news. “She was such a good person.”

  “Yes, she was,” Marcus said, knowing the shock of the situation had not really worn off yet. He knew he would grieve in his own way, later on. Now, he had to remain strong and steady. “And that’s why it was such a loss. She was good at everything.”

  “What will you do now?” Julie asked, trying hard to hold back the tears of loss she herself felt for Marcus. “Are you still going to keep tracking the guys you were after? They seem pretty dangerous if they’re setting up car bombs…”

  “We’ve been taken off the case,” Marcus admitted. “It’s a shame, too. We were making some real headway in the investigation. The NSA doesn’t want us snooping around where so many people can get hurt.”

  “That’s sort of like an act of terror, don’t you think?” Julie added.

  “I suppose,” Marcus said. “It was directed against us specifically, but they did use a weapon of mass destruction. I’ll let the NSA guys deal with that.”

  Marcus cleaned the mess while Julie watched, perched like a predator waiting for him to finish. Her eyes were hungry yet sad. She didn’t want Marcus to hurt, to get hurt, or to have to worry about his life every day. She wanted him to have a normal life; something he had never had.

  He finished cleaning the mess off the floor, knowing full well that the stain would never lift from the white carpet. Settling down on the couch near Julie gave him some peace of mind. Her warm hands were immediately on his and her slender body curled up next to him. She smelled good. The scent was something she had bought that reminded him of a rather sexual night they had spent together.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “We should do this marriage thing.”

  She didn’t move.

  “I mean, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re beautiful, smart, and cunning. You’re quick to the punch and best of all you make me happy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the same thing for you, but I’d like to try.”

  She looked up, smiling as brightly as she had ever smiled.

  “So you’re going to ask me to marry you on the couch?”

  Marcus grinned.

  “I can’t complain,” she continued. “After all, it has been far too long coming.”

  Amy screamed. Her nightmares had been getting worse and worse. Though she had been told by her friends that she would need to sleep so that her body could heal, sleep seemed as if it was the worst thing she had ever experienced. She couldn’t shut her eyes without seeing herself being cornered by some ravenous beast, or raped repeatedly by some husky man. She saw things that she was sure had never happened to her, like being gored by a bull through the chest, or set on fire. She screamed now, thrashing as the ones she thought of as friends tried to hold her down.

  “It’s not working,” one of the men told Gelda. She slapped him and spit on the ground.

  “Do you think that I am fucking blind?” she screamed. “I see that the treatments are not working as they should. We need to move her quickly, or we might lose all the work we’ve put in. She needs a stronger treatment in the only place we can give it to her. The girl’s spirit is much stronger than he had anticipated. She is rejecting him.”

  “You want to take her to the island already?” the man protested. “But I thought the island was as a last resort. Besides, we don’t want to compromise our cache.”

  “Quiet,” Gelda cursed again. “I say what happens now. I say we take her to the island tomorrow night, if she can last that long. If not, we will give her a treatment right here in this very apartment.”

  “We are supposed to wait a few days between treatments,” the man insisted. “This is breaking protocol.”

  “I understand.” She was getting angry. “I also understand that protocol is put in place to ensure that everything flows normally. As you can tell, this is not normal. Besides, we have done this before. When you have been around as long as I have, you learn to compensate.”

  “Alright then.” The man seemed to calm down after hearing her reassurance. He simply grabbed Amy’s legs and kept her still as another tremor passed.

  Gelda tried to remain calm, but couldn’t keep the look of worry out of her eyes. The two of them had been together so much longer than Amy could possibly imagine. Their lives had been as interwoven as a river that winds through the forest. Through all the years they had been together, she had never seen anything as violent as this.

  She had, however, been warned that this time would be different than the others. The change taking place was more permanent than the others had been. Amy was becoming something she had hoped to become long ago, yet it seemed as if it would kill her before the change ever took place.

  Amy wasn’t aware of anything around her. She was busy fighting off lucid dreams that frightened her more than she had ever been. Each one became more real than the last, as if they were quickly taking her over. She wondered between the dreams if she was losing her mind. She must have been breaking apart in the turbulence of this madness.

  What she was currently seeing was someone in a loincloth—painted in red and brown and yellow, wrinkled with sun exposure and old with age, a head of strangely cropped hair and muscles that seemed unreal for a man his age—spearing her through the chest. She was looking down in horror at the wooden spike, sticking out of her like some strange attachment. The strangest thing about the entire dream, however, was not how she was dying but what her hands looked like. They were brown, much like the man who was currently spearing her through the chest, and scarred. They belonged to a man—that was certain.

  In her confusion, she managed one last scream before she realized she was dreaming. Coming out of the dream was no less confusing, unfortunately. She was with people she hardly recognized, in a room that was too familiar. The light made her feel nauseated and she vomited immediately.

  Gelda was there to clean it up, as were other people. She couldn’t put names to their faces right then, but something inside her felt as if she were supposed to be here. It told her she should calm down and accept these new feelings.

  The woman Gelda held her tenderly and the familiar feelings of love came back to her. She managed to grab the woman’s arm to return the affection before she vomited again. This time it was tinted with blood.

  Gelda’s eyes widened and her grip tightened around Amy. She had not anticipated physical ailments like this as the change was taking place. It had never occurred before, in any of the other hosts. She had to think quickly—what would he do? He would never break any of the rules to save his loved ones and that was just his way. Yet if she acted out of compassion and love in order to save his life, she would undoubtedly be spared his wrath.

  She needed time to think—time that was not available to her.

  Just then, Amy made eye contact with Gelda. Her usual blue green eyes had a tint of something new now. They were darker, muddier, almost as if they were changing colors before her. They didn’t hold the same softness, either, but more of an angry and hardened look.

  It was something that she had long been familiar with. That look was something that he had given her on many occasions. She knew that Amy was changing then and didn’t care who else existed but her and the person she was trying to save.

  Amy felt a strong compulsion to tell Gelda what she was currently thinking. It was, undoubtedly, a side effect of both the government experiments and her terrifying nightmares. Regardless, the words came out in a disheveled groan. They came from a place which she had newly discovered within herself, as if a chasm had been opened and she was looking into it for the first time.

  In fact, many things were starting to feel more natural for her. As if having a sudden rush of confidence, she didn’t mind being authoritative. She ha
d always been shy and figured she always would be, but now she felt the authority of decades that she could use to control people. She also felt skills, like something she had learned from a dream suddenly coming to mind. She remembered vaguely how to fly, that she had driven motorcycles, and even some skills that could save her life.

  “Gelda,” she groaned. “You’ve got to try harder.”

  Gelda looked stunned. The voice that came out of her was something she had not anticipated.

  “You’re going to have to take matters into your own hands and do what you know is right.”

  “But…” she tried to protest.

  “Shut your mouth and listen to me. I am battling for control, but I fear that I am losing. I’ve never experienced anything like it. She is armored against me—lucid at all times. If you do not trust yourself and do what you know must be done, I may lose this vessel. That is not an acceptable option.”

  Chapter 18

  Marcus couldn’t say he was upset to be limping. After last night, he probably deserved it. Julie had been gentle and kind to him and Marcus had fallen asleep in her arms hours after she had already passed out. In the early hours of the morning he had felt a sudden rush of anger. Though he had only been dreaming, it felt real enough. He started groping in his sleep, searching for an enemy to destroy.

  That was when he found Julie. Grabbing her stomach in a tight clench wasn’t something he had intended. The little fat that could be found was quickly balled up in his tight grasp and Julie woke up yelling. When Marcus didn’t let go, she used her elbow to make him. A well planted, pointy elbow caught him in the thigh, startling him awake and groaning immediately.

  Now, the small bruise that was forming reminded him he had to purge this mess from his mind as quickly as he could. There was too much going on in his life for Marcus to simply go to sleep without meditating. It had always served to put his mind at rest before and he felt somewhat stupid for not taking part in the small ritual before bedtime.

  Looking at the white sand he kept in a glass container, Marcus made a promise he would use the sand and purge his bad energy soon. Unfortunately, today would not be the day.

  He limped across the floor, totally cognizant of the fact he was going to miss his zero-eight hundred work call. He figured he wouldn’t be the only one, either, seeing as how his team had been somewhat scattered since they had come back home. He shot a quick text to his boss before heading into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

  Julie had already left. She had important business to attend to at her law firm and unlike Marcus, she took her deadline today very seriously. Though she owned the firm, she was still quite important in its day-to-day workings.

  Marcus flipped the television on as he cooked some eggs for breakfast. The local news was on, showing highlights from the night before.

  The coffee Julie had made was strong and thick. He poured himself a tall mug and inhaled the fumes as he took his first sip. Today, thankfully, was not one of the many he had to rely on energy drinks to get going.

  Cooking was next on his list. The crackling of butter in the pan smelled delicious. Soon Marcus was salivating at the prospect of eating his first good meal in days.

  As he cracked his first egg into the pan, he looked up at the television on the wall in his living room. The flashing lights of police cars and ambulances were nothing new, but the headline caught his eye immediately.

  “Police say high levels of electromagnetic radiation may be the cause of an ailment that caused nearly thirty people in a New York high rise to experience dramatic and terrifying hallucinations. As many as four are confirmed dead from self-inflicted wounds, while the rest have been taken to local hospitals and are currently under observation—”

  Marcus didn’t need to hear anymore. His great smelling breakfast would have to wait. He dumped the half-cooked eggs in the garbage, dressed as quickly as he could, and headed for the door. Though the trip to the parking garage seemed as if it took Marcus an hour, especially with the two harassing phone calls he received on the way from Gregory and a miraculously cured Henry, he was in his car and off within minutes.

  The entire department was in a buzz. People had been working very hard on this case and Marcus knew it. Each of them had small demands, wondering when they would hear more about the case. More than one person asked Marcus what he could tell them and just as many went away disappointed.

  Apparently something had changed overnight.

  “Glad you could make it,” Cynthia chided as Marcus headed into the briefing room again. It felt as if he had never left, honestly, and he was sure everyone else felt the same way.

  “Henry.” Marcus patted his good friend on the shoulder. Though he looked tired and hadn’t shaved the scruff off of his face, he wore bright colors and a smile that told Marcus he was doing well. “Any news on Brenda?”

  “Nothing new.” Gregory was the one who answered. “Stephen saw her through some surgeries last night and he says the outlook is still ‘iffy’. The doctors say she has a better chance, now that she’s lived through one night, but we shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

  “Screw that,” Cynthia said. “I’m hoping with all my might.”

  “Me, too,” Marcus said sadly. “She had better pull through this or I’m going to write her ass up.”

  “What news do we have on the attack in New York?” Marcus was happy to hear about Brenda, but with the fact she might live having been established, it was time to get to business. “I saw on the news today that multiple people experienced the same thing?”

  “You saw on the news?” Henry said kiddingly. “What a cute surprise. We have an extensive report already, Marcus. The same power pull like that witnessed in the old lumber mill was recorded, but this time it was in an apartment building in a nice part of New York.”

  “What about the owners?” Marcus wondered. “Do we know who owns the apartment in question yet?”

  The team looked to Gregory, who had apparently been hoarding the information until now.

  “I’ll give you a guess,” he said, smiling as broadly as he had ever smiled. “It might surprise you to know that a man named Lambert Frederickson is on the lease. Not only that, but our kidnapping victim was spotted in the area. She was being accompanied by two men and a woman. They got out of there faster than a dog stealing a rib eye steak.”

  “That’s two out of three,” Marcus said, rubbing his temples. “She was at the first incident and the third. I bet you anything she was also present at the second.”

  “In the old abandoned mill?” Henry asked. “That wouldn’t make much sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense, if that machine isn’t a weapon after all,” Cynthia managed to get the attention of everyone in the room. They all looked expectantly at her as she gathered her breath.

  “If the machine wasn’t redesigned to be a weapon, then maybe they’re trying to do something to her, not everyone else. She was there on the boat and it’s safe to assume she was there in the apartment. Why wouldn’t she be present at the lumber mill? After all, that place was so far off the grid hardly anyone knew about it but two hikers. The same goes for the yacht. Maybe it was just an accident the yacht drifted into the harbor.”

  “But what about the third time?” Though Gregory agreed with everything she was saying, he wanted to know the answer as much as they did.

  “Maybe she needs the box to survive?” Cynthia shrugged. “I don’t know, but it definitely seems the two are connected. Coincidences like this are rare, if not non-existent.”

  Everyone was silent. The old man that had helped them save the world was definitely connected to this ring of events now, there was no denying it. Marcus cursed under his breath.

  “So…” Phillip said from the back of the room, his sunglasses covering his eyes like usual. “Are we going after this guy now or what?”

  “Our newest member of the elite, Sheila, has some more information to disseminate before we start formulating a plan,” Gregory
said a little too proudly. “I know we’ve been in this office a lot lately, but the most important thing we can do right now is gather any information we can. We are in uncharted territory and we can all agree on one thing; it’s going to get dangerous.”

  “Get dangerous?” Marcus scoffed. “Like we haven’t been shot at, bombed, dropped down mine shafts, and threatened with vests made from C4 already.”

  “I think this might change your mind,” Sheila said, standing up next to Gregory. Though the man towered over her, he backed up kindly to allow the tiny woman to present her findings.

  “You already know we’ve been trying to figure out the correlation between the victims over the years,” she started. “Turns out it was right under our noses—we just didn’t know where to look. The Cerberus files brought some new information to light. It was information we wish we had never found, honestly.”

  “Spill it,” Cynthia said grumpily. “What have you got?”

  “A strangely documented change in one out of hundreds of victims,” Sheila said quietly. “One of the experiments worked. I guess I hadn’t got that far into the files yet, but last night one of my colleagues found the documentation. The procedure was done on a man that had experience a rather gruesome injury. It was a mine that tore his leg off.

  “After the medics got him back to the rear detachment, a particular doctor oversaw his operation. Remember the doctor we were talking about yesterday? The one that changed after being bitten? Well, he decided to lower the juice on this one guy. Instead of shocking him, he just left the machine on for two hours straight.”

  “The rest of the doctors didn’t understand what our man in question was doing, but it worked. They were all amazed and quite a few questioning papers were written about his method.”

  “The guy with his leg blow off had to learn how to talk again, move on his own, and how to eat again. The doctors don’t know whether or not severe blood loss caused this change, but he was basically a brand new person.”