Codename: Bear II: Secret Agent (Codename Universe Book 2)

by Geoffrey C Porter

  "Centurian's genetic experiments are not so benign," I assumed.

  "When we create a GMO human, we keep them for nine months in a pod, then donate the baby to a childless couple. Centurian does it differently. He grows them to adulthood in a lab, then imprints them with memories. Our process takes 18-20 years to perfect. Centurian's 12 months."

  "Am I a GMO?" I asked.

  Thomas said, "I'm too old to be one."

  "I am, too," Sphinx said.

  I could be one. Damn. I could be engineered.

  Nancy tapped her fingers on the desk. "Relax, Bear, if you were GMO you'd have a number or a color in your name. You must not tell any of the GMOs what they are. They're as human as the rest of us."

  Wait. That means Sam is a GMO. "Can the GMOs have offspring?"

  "Yes. They are human in every way except for some minor genetic alterations designed to remove disease."

  Good, because I wanted to have kids with Sam in the worst way. One second, since when did I even want kids? I mean Sam would be a perfect mom, but would I be a decent dad?

  "Are we looking for Jackal?" I asked.

  "He's very dangerous." Nancy shrugged. "He has close ties to Centurian, but we don't know the first place to look for him. His face is coded in traffic cameras worldwide, but a pair of sunglasses and a hat would likely be enough to slip past those."

  "What are we doing?"

  "Waiting for an update from Chor'Tan about Ralan's location. Analyzing computer data that we've captured. Interrogating people still in our custody."

  "Still in our custody?" I asked.

  Thomas spoke very quietly. "We have limited holding space, and some people we have not been able to charge. We keep them for 72 hours, let them go. Sometimes we keep them longer, but only if we can show they're a threat."

  Sphinx started cracking her knuckles one by one with loud popping sounds. "We're basically screwed?"

  We were pretty much screwed. I wondered if I wanted to know more. There had to be more.

  Nancy started hitting keys on her terminal. A 3D globe of the Earth appeared over the table. Countries were outlined over a topographical map. Countries ranged in color from light pink to deep red. There were no white countries.

  "White countries represent true democracies, and red countries signify states of anarchy or too oppressive to not count as anarchy," Nancy said.

  Thomas said, "Lot of red on that map."

  "Yes, globally, we are close to enough Anarchy for Razdorans to claim us. The USA is pivotal to maintaining our status, and voter confidence is slowly eroding. Some citizens think votes aren't even counted anymore. Others feel that the two major parties are two faces of the same coin. If we cannot have democracy in the United States, our world will be invaded. Democracies in Europe are still strong, but none qualify statistically as white countries."

  "It seems like there are more red countries than there should be," I said.

  "Razdorans make the rules in the interstellar council," Nancy said, "and it seems like every new council cycle the rules are changing to paint more and more countries as red."

  "We need to go on the offense again."

  "Other teams have been, while you've been focused on local problems: Jackal and Ralan. If Ralan escapes our grasp indefinitely, it sends a bad message to Centurian higher ups."

  "There really isn't much we can do," Thomas said.

  He was right. Nancy dismissed us, and I went to the track to run.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I finished my run and hit the showers. Sam kissed me right on the lips after I stepped through the food line. I wanted to take an afternoon break in the worst way. We ate our food. Sam kissed me again, but whispered, "I have class," in my ear.

  She left. I had no class. Just sitting there. JenSix came through the food line and smiled at me. She sat down. "Lift day for you?"

  Every day. "I could lift today. I'm surprised you're not back in LA."

  "Jackal is a priority case, and our best intel says he's operating out of Phoenix."

  She ate quickly. "Let's lift."

  I liked to lift with Archangel or even Thomas. JenSix had broad shoulders and muscular arms. I could lift with her. She stood up. "It's a heavy day for me."

  "I think I can spot you," I said.

  "I bench twice my body weight."

  I don't. "I can only bench about 140 kilos."

  "I weigh 75 kilos."

  I looked at her again. Tall, lean, built. GMO. Damn it, the GMO doesn't matter; what matters is I'd been seeing Sam.

  I led the way to the gym. We lifted. She pushed me harder than the others. She'd chant "one more" over and over as I neared the end of my strength. One of the best workouts I'd had in ages. Maybe it was a little competitive spirit, maybe it was me trying to impress a woman. I didn't pull anything, but I knew I'd feel the workout tomorrow.

  Met up with Sam at dinner. She said, "You lifted with JenSix?"

  "How did you know?" I asked.

  "Jack was going through physical therapy in the gym. He ratted you out."

  I didn't even notice Jack in the gym. "It meant nothing."

  Sam said nothing. Just ate quietly. I reached over the table to grab her hand. She pulled out of my reach. Was it over? It couldn't be over. She stood up to leave.

  "Ten o'clock? Your room?" I asked. As we had planned.

  "I don't need any luck right now."

  Wench! "I need some. They're expecting me to find a man named Jackal and bring him in or kill him."

  We're going to kill him on the spot. No bringing him in.

  "Well, if you need luck, that's good enough for me," she said.

  Splendid. I watched a movie. Hit the buzzer to Sam's room at ten sharp. Made sweet love to her. No, the door opened, and JenSix was standing there with a bottle of Chor'Tan Ale in her hand. Sam was sitting in a chair with another bottle of the ale.

  "Yours are in the fridge," JenSix said.

  I stepped into the room. The fridge was right there. Sam and Jen were smiling like idiots. I opened my first bottle and started sipping.

  The three of us sat down. "Euchre?" Sam asked.

  I nodded. She dealt the cards.

  "Sam and I trained together for a time in LA," JenSix said. "We go way back."

  I didn't know if it was the ale or close proximity to two females, but I was getting a boner. It wasn't that bad, though. I doubted they could tell.

  Sam consistently won at the euchre. We finished the first bottle, and I noticed there was a second six pack in the fridge. I passed out bottle number two to everybody.

  Believe it or not, Sam put on this techno music and started to dance, and soon the three of us were dancing together. JenSix said, "Drink! Drink!"

  I chugged the second bottle, and I was terrified they were going to ask me to drink a third. Both women chugged their bottles, too.

  My eyes were starting to get blurry and sag at that point, but Sam started unbuttoning her shirt. Then JenSix did it, too. I died. Seriously, my dick was so hard, and there were four tits with nipples staring at me.

  They lost their pants next, and I didn't really notice undressing, but I was standing there naked with a boner to beat all boners. Sam hopped on the bed and spread her legs wide. JenSix started eating Sam's pussy.

  Jen's ass was pointed right at me, and it looked so good. It ended up being an evening worth remembering. Chor'Tan Ale is my friend.

  JenSix was gone in the morning, and Sam wanted to do it again, just the two of us. Even though I was hung over as Hell, I did my part. JenSix was not at breakfast.

  I looked up her number and sent a text. "Where are you?"

  She replied, "One time thing. Forget it. I'm back in LA."

  One time beautiful thing. One time awesome thing that I will never forget. So long as my relationship was still solid with Sam. I sat at breakfast and smiled.

  Sam rubbed my leg on the calf with her foot. Damn if it wasn't the Chor'Tan Ale, or I was in love, but my dick was think
ing I should be alone with Sam. She said, "I have to run. Then class. After dinner, a movie."

  I could wait that long. I followed her to the track, and we ran for a while. We hit the showers and had lunch together. More sex that night. Life was good.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  A few days passed. Sam took the time to teach me how many texts a day were proper and not stalker like. I did my best.

  I was having breakfast with the gang when Nancy approached. She sat with us and ate quietly. "We have a lead on Jackal."

  The table went silent. Nancy continued, "He's been spotted three times by the same traffic cam. It's set up near a building which serves as a dance club."

  "You're figuring he's in the club?" Thomas asked.

  Nancy nodded. "We're not sure who owns the club, but we're fairly certain it's a drug distribution point."

  The fact that we couldn't determine an owner made it pretty clear it was up to no good.

  "Something else," Nancy said, "we have new armor for your team. You can't pass as civilians in it, so you can't use it all the time. It will stop a 50 cal round, but there are joints where the armor isn't as strong."

  New armor? Hell, yes.

  "Where is this club?" I asked.

  "New York."

  "When do we leave?"

  Nancy shrugged. "The dance club is open 24/7. Afternoons are the slowest time."

  "We're taking Jackal out, right?" Archangel asked. "No capture?"

  "Eliminate him. Minimize civilian casualties."

  "We should be on the plane," I said.

  "Finish breakfast. Equipment is in the armory."

  We finished breakfast and ran to the armory. The suit was lighter than I was expecting, but the joints where it was soft were bigger than I had hoped. I tried flexing and stretching in it, no problem. We piled in one van with tinted windows and drove to the airport. The plane was waiting. We took off.

  I would have sent Sam a text, but she was at breakfast with us. She knew where I was. I went into nap mode for the flight. Woke up when we were about halfway to New York. I pulled up a map of the building with the dance club in it. There were three floors, with one set of stairs and elevators at the east end of the building. The plans were old, so may not have been totally accurate. The main entrance was on the west side.

  I got into a game of hearts with the others. I won. They all quit. There were enough benches that everybody could lie down. When we approached the New York airport, we broke out food bars and iced coffee. There was barely enough room in the van for us and the submachine guns. I rode on the roof. No, I drove. Technically, the van sat eight, and our guns fit under the seats.

  We stopped down the street from the club. With the helmets on, the armor, and guns, civilians got out of our way. We jogged to the club. The sound carried through the concrete sidewalk into my feet. The windows of the club were painted black. We stepped into the structure. The sound was unbelievable thunder and pain. There was a bar where people were drinking, plus a flat level wooden dance floor with gyrating bodies.

  The lights flashed and spun. I said, "Infrared."

  The dancers and drinkers turned red in my vision as I hit the button. None of them appeared to be armed, or even paying attention to us. We moved through the building to reach the stairs. We went up to the second floor. Couches littered the place, and it seemed like everybody was smoking something. I was happy to have a breather helmet on.

  People did not appear to be armed with anything bigger or more dangerous than a pipe and a lighter, but some of them were obviously smoking crack-cocaine or MindBender.

  I said, "Third floor."

  We climbed the stairs. The third floor was packed with dancers and clouds of smoke.

  A blast rifle erupted at the other end of the building, cutting into a dancer. It fired again, dropping a new person. I pushed into the crowd, and people started to stampede around me. The others on my team pushed forward, too. The blast rifle fired again.

  The next pulse from the rifle cut through GeoSix's chest, instantly killing him. Somebody on my team opened fire with the 5.56mm, and soon we were all firing. The crowd fell in waves before our onslaught. A total bloodbath danced in my view. Things quieted down.

  There were maybe fifteen to twenty twitching bodies on the floor. We just made a huge mistake. In the distance, at the opposite end of the building, somebody jumped out of a window. I only saw him for a glancing moment, or I would have taken a shot.

  Enigma was the only one whose gun was not smoking. The bodies stopped twitching. Somewhere along the way, the music stopped. I wasn't thinking right.

  Sphinx radioed for paramedics and meat wagons. Minimize civilian casualties echoed in my mind. So much blood. So many bodies. Paramedics showed up and hauled everybody out. I wanted to go into shock and just give up. Thomas slapped me on the arm. "You're driving."

  "We're going home?" I asked.

  "Back to Phoenix. Into our rooms. Wait out the inquisition."

  Great. We deserved an inquisition. We just gunned down civilians.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  We didn't say anything on the way back to Phoenix. Thomas made us eat food bars. "They won't feed us a late dinner."

  I stepped into my room. I shed a few tears for the civilians, but I knew we were in the right. Consequences.

  I checked my email. Minos, Heathers, Nancy, Sam, all of them had emailed. Wait? Email from Sam?

  She wrote, "I heard what happened. I'm so sorry."

  She's sorry? I'm sorry. I wrote back, "We had no choice. The blast rifle was just going to cut us down."

  Minos' email got right to the point. "We're waiting to see if a video of the event surfaces. If there's no video, we can hide this from the media, no problem. If there's video, we may have to take steps."

  I checked Nancy's email. "If a video turns up, that'll be the last time you're wearing that armor. It may be the last time you're going into civilian areas with the submachine guns."

  I sent an email to Nancy, "Will they sort through how many deaths each of us is responsible for?"

  Heather's email was short and to the point. "I need to know how this is affecting your dreams. We need to talk. Get some rest."

  They're not dreams, they're nightmares. Like I will even be able to sleep.

  I did jumping jacks. Didn't count them. Didn't stop. Sweat poured out of my body. I didn't want to think or feel. Crawled into bed and closed my eyes. The dancing bodies getting hit with rounds visited me over and over. My insides were empty. I needed food. Four in the morning. I had a pretty good idea how small a breakfast I was going to get, too.

  I emailed Nancy. "Can I get extra calories at breakfast? I've been exercising, and I'm hungry."

  Nobody sent me any replies. I watched the clock. Sam was the first to email me. "You'll get through this. I'll be here for you."

  How is she even allowed to email me or vice versa? I sent her an, "I love you," email.

  Heather's text was next. "Did you sleep?"

  "I did not."

  "If you don't sleep tonight, I'll be giving you medicine."

  Great. Breakfast arrived. It was the usual breakfast I was expecting under detention, plus three of the large size low sodium wheat cracker boxes that I had been feeding to Joe. Fifteen hundred calories extra. Nancy still loved me.

  I tried to sleep, I did, but finally I went to my terminal and pulled up a strategy game. I played until lunch. Kind of surprised I was allowed to do that. In the past, my terminal was pretty well locked down. Thomas came and got me for exercise. We lifted, then ran. Thomas was not acting like we were on a timer.

  "Swim?" He asked.

  I nodded. We swam laps. Sat in the sauna. It was dinner time, and we went through the food line. The whole gang was sitting at our usual table. Nancy approached us. She sat and ate.

  "Preliminary reports indicate everybody killed was a MindBender addict," Nancy said. "You're still under restrictions. Return to your rooms."

  Sam c
ame through the food line then. She smiled at me. Nancy said, "No, Bear. To your quarters."

  I went to my room. Watched an old zombie movie. It sucked. I mean the dialog was not bad, but after seeing a lot of zombie movies, it was old hat. Get bitten, turn, same shit, different cast.

  I ate the last of the wheat snacks and crashed. Did not dream.

  Breakfast arrived. Pancakes, real maple syrup. Bacon. Fresh fruit. Three more boxes of wheat crackers. My videophone rang. Heathers.

  I answered it. "I slept like the dead."

  "We have been reviewing the video. Some people might say you should have risked your own lives and not opened fire. They were all MindBender addicts, sooner or later they would have been Centurian cronies. You should forgive yourself."

  That is a good idea. "It's too soon for me to forgive myself. I'm still processing what happened."

  "Reports are in. Your bullets were the killing blow to three of them. You've killed more than that."

  Just the whole vision in my mind of the bullets hitting dancers, and the way they twitched and spasmed. Images that will never leave my memory. I told all that to Heathers.

  "There's a drug I can give you," she said. "It's been shown to be effective in this kind of instances."

  "No drugs."

  "I'm going to be scheduling a group therapy session with your entire team. I'm inviting you first to participate. As team leader, it's essential that you're part of it."

  "I'm not interested in that," I said.

  "It may help your team function as a unit."

  Honestly, how could I say no? It may be beneficial for the team, and the team was more important than the me.

  "I'm in," I said, "but I want it made clear to team members that it's optional."

  "It really isn't optional, Bear. I asked you, to avoid my going to Nancy."

  Fucking bitch. Group therapy and I agreed to it. "This afternoon?"

  "We need to wait a few more days to see if a video surfaces. Mainstream media reported it as a gang massacre, but some fringe media reported it as a police action."