Agent M: Project Mabus (The Agent M Series Book 1)

by L. M. Vila

  Tuna was a wonderful creation. Meryl was never a picky eater but during the academy she remembered living off of this stuff in order to help build lean muscle. After eating it for months on end her palette adapted and started to enjoy it.

  Meryl took a bite of her sandwich and wanted to squeal with delight. This place was magical. It was the first time she was introduced to pancakes at a ‘pancake house’ and now she was diving into a masterfully created meal from the same place. She had to thank Michael again for another great experience.

  Halfway into his meal, Michael’s phone shouted thousands of kilobytes worth of sound data. The caller ID revealed its importance. Michael dropped the second portion of his lunch and answered.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Hey Mike,” Steve sounded so fervent. Good news should follow. “I’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Laesare Biotech.”

  “Start with the address.”

  “One step ahead of you boss,” Steve replied. He was getting much better at his job. “Text message is on its way.”

  Exceptional news. An address would at least give them something to investigate. Michael was ready to hang up but Steve cut in quickly with the last bit of news that would seal the deal.

  “You’ll be happy to note that we went over the emails of the other two victims with a fine toothed comb and found messages from Laesare. Now we’ve got them linked to the packages sent to the other victims. Looks like we’ve got our prime suspect nailed.”

  “Good, thanks.”

  Michael ended the call on a pleasant note. He put the phone back in his pocket and looked over at Meryl. She wasn’t quite finished with her lunch and on that note, neither was he. He stole a glance at her when she took the first bite and could tell she really enjoyed it. He’d been waiting all weekend for a solid lead. Another ten minutes wouldn’t hurt.

  “Let’s finish,” he declared before taking another bite of his sandwich. Meryl couldn’t capture it perfectly but thought a bit of happiness trailed on the end of those words. Apparently there was a bit of the old Michael waiting to come out all on his own.

  “Is this the place?” Questioned the female assassin. She opened the door and reluctantly exited the vehicle. Seika would rather watch fat women eat than hang out at this dump. It was surrounded by distribution warehouses, filth, garbage and even a large stinking processing plant to the west. Garbage and waste spewed forth from its massive existence. Seika wanted to vomit.

  “This is perfect. Park the car around the corner,” ordered Kurtis.

  Once they stopped, he jumped out and popped the trunk. The only thing it contained was a long shining metal case. Kurtis lifted it easily with one arm. He slammed the trunk and gave her the signal to move out. Seika obliged, driving around the corner and making a right turn on East 52nd Street.

  Kurtis made his move and darted through traffic. His movements were beyond fast. Wind pressed upon his face pathetically trying to hold him back. He made it across the street and eyed the ten-foot tall cement block fence that stood in his way. As it drew closer, Kurtis bent his knees and leaped toward it. He cleared the barricade with ease, just off the corner of Alameda and 55th Street. Any drivers that caught a glimpse of him in action would have sworn they saw a ghost. Kurtis moved so quickly it was almost as if he blurred through reality. One of the many perks of his generous abilities.

  Darting through the yard of the facility, Kurtis kept a firm grip on the case. A large tower towards the back called out to him. He ran between the building and barbwire topped chain link fence towards his objective. A yellow gated ladder in proximity led right to the top. Kurtis blew past the tall grey silos and in seconds, the ladder in his grasp. He threw the case strap over his shoulder, securing it to his back and started climbing.

  The weather was fantastic. As he climbed Kurtis took note of the wind speed; barely two miles per hour. He moved up quickly, almost jumping straight to the top. His internal body temperature didn’t even raise awareness that this was laborious activity.

  Almost to the top. Kurtis tasted cage free space and pulled his body on top of the massive silo. The view was perfect. Barely a hundred yards separated him from the target location. Given his extensive training, he could make this shot blind folded.

  The sun’s position reminded Kurtis to check his watch. It was half-past noon. Time to take his medicine. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black case, popped it open revealing a short syringe. They called this his stability juice.

  While training, Kurtis would receive a daily injection of this stuff right before one o’clock. He was told that if he didn’t, his body would start to decompose. Apparently, his strength was too great for the human body to contain. This drug regulated that power and kept his functions normal. Well, normal for him anyway.

  The injection was clean. He always put it in the exact same spot in his right arm. The medicine entered his body. It felt rejuvenating. The rush after each dosage made him feel like he could knock this tower down with a single punch. This would keep him fixed for the duration of the mission.

  Next, he opened the case to reveal a Dragunov SVD sniper rifle. Mother Russia would be proud. Nothing beat a semi-automatic gas operated weapon of quick destruction. Should more than one shot be necessary, this rifle would get the job done smoothly and quickly. Not specifically for this case but in previous assignments, Kurtis enjoyed pooping off a limb of an enemy before he sent a bullet right through their heart. It was an easy task with a 7.62mm Russian cartridge. The only thing Kurtis enjoyed more than Russian weapons was their food.

  His phone chirped, begging for him to answer it. The General was calling. Why he wanted to jeopardize this mission by exchanging pleasantries was beyond Kurtis’ rationale.

  “What is it?”

  “How rude of you. Did you forget who you are speaking to?”

  That was just adding fuel to a blazing fire. “And did you forget what I’m doing here? This is your mess I’m fixing. Are you trying to screw that up?”

  “That is exactly what I’m calling about. I have some new information about our target. He is not traveling alone. We don’t have all the details but for the time being, stick to your original mission. Leave the other one alone until we can identify them.”

  Such foolishness. There was no reason to allow two agents working on the same case to roam free. But, if that’s what the General wanted, he had to oblige.

  “Very well.”

  Kurtis shut the phone off. Winds were surprisingly silent from this height. Exactly what Kurtis needed. There was no way he was going to fail this mission. He’ll make sure that woman has a front row seat. The drive over wasn't too bad. His nerves were able to settle down considerably. Kurtis’ mind felt at ease. Now all he needed to do was put a bullet through Madison's.

  Seika continued to check the gold pocket watch she kept tucked gently by her side. It was the only remaining memento she had of her late brother. His philosophy on life was that time is the only thing worth a damn. Everything else was finite. Money, drugs, even love. Time was the only thing that couldn't be bought, couldn't be stopped, and couldn't be controlled. Memories were Seimon's passion.

  Seika clasped the watch shut. She had to remind herself from time to time that patience was required. While she was working with her brother, Seika was second to no one when performing a clean kill. Seimon fancied making artwork of an assassination. All of his jobs were done with a theme in mind. Sometimes he would even paint images with the victim's blood. It was his ultimate downfall. That's how he was able to catch him. Such foolish pride. However, memories of those kills were worth more than the money he was paid. Assassination had little room for romantics like Seimon. In spite of that, he is still regarded as one of the best.

  The one responsible for her misery would finally taste judgment tonight. Under normal circumstances, Seika would have exacted her revenge years ago. The assassin's code that is rooted deep within her ancestry was the only thing keeping
him alive. Her brother honored that throughout all his life. She promised him on his grave that she would do the same.

  So there she waited. In between two buildings for the target to show up. In reality, Seika hoped that young boy missed. She wanted to bathe in the pleasure of the kill. Nothing enticed her more than that very thought.

  Today, Michael Madison will die.

  “I don't believe it.”

  Air stood thick inside Donald's throat. He could never forget this chemical makeup. This was his work. His formula. And he thought he would never see it again. There were still so many questions to be asked. Donald began with the obvious.

  “How did this happen?”

  Nicole made sure to do her best and answer everything thing he wanted. He deserved it after all.

  “We've been following a series of strange deaths. This substance was found amongst the deceased. I had it analyzed immediately.” She paused. “When the results came in, I thought of you.”

  Donald drew a pen from his desk and said, “May I?” while pointing at the document.

  “Of course.” Her words came out softly. Nicole would empathize with his ever need.

  This was brilliant work. Well, most of it was his anyways but someone had tampered with it, played with it. The million dollar question is 'why'. Donald began drawing patterns below the original chemical formula. He drew out pieces of his original work. It made up for most but not all. Another chemical composition was being added. No, mixed. They were trying to create something brand new using Donald's original design.

  He continued computing. It started becoming clear now. There were too many hydrogen and carbon atoms. Donald recognized this chemical structure. It was in his lecture last week.

  “Insulin isophane,” he whispered, “what is this doing here?” Talking to himself was a personality trait he knew he could never get rid of. No reason to fight it now. “There's a lot of brilliance in this. Yes. Someone had modified this considerably. This substance on its own may still be too volatile, but even get this far would have taken years.”

  “Apparently we can't keep a secret any better than our enemies can.”

  “Who released this drug?” Donald's query came out with a bit of ferocity. He didn't like seeing someone toy with his work. Something that should have never seen the light of day.

  “We're working on that. No solid leads yet. I'm sorry.” Nicole had no idea why she apologized. The words just came out. It just felt right.

  “Someone was trying to mask this as insulin. A poison being turned into a cure.” Sheer amazement filled his emotions. It slowly turned to jealousy. They were able to take his experiment and try to create something useful. Something to help mankind. The same mindset Donald once had

  “Why did you bring this to me?” This was supposed to be his last question but he couldn't hold back any longer.

  Nicole hesitated. He may not like this answer. “Because,” her words flowed so softly. “I thought you should know.”

  He started imagining flashbacks of their time together. Her sadistic demeanor soon evolved into something quite reserved and beautiful. When Nicole was helping to raise the child, she was just so full of love and hope. The accident that occurred during the project's termination must have some effect on her. Even so, it didn't change her completely.

  Donald removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He slowly started to place them on his desk while saying, “Nicole, after all this time.” He stopped himself briefly. The glasses rested safely out of his hands. “I never expected you to lie to me...”

  The air felt stagnant. A pit inside Nicole's stomach grew tenfold. Almost making her body collapse into itself. Then he spoke once more. His last word came out with such remorse that it drove her into a land of utter pity.

  “Again.”

  She had been so foolish to come here. This was a mistake. Aborting was the obvious choice yet Nicole couldn't find the energy to move. Anger fueled Donald. This was the past coming to haunt him again.

  “You didn't come here for my sake. You need my help because you can't figure this out on your own and no one else can know about it. Isn’t that right?” His tone was sharp. The words carried past his closed office door. Luckily anyone nearby wouldn't know what they were talking about.

  No words could express Nicole's feelings. Her silence admitted it clearly. Donald hadn't let his temper go like that for as long as he could remember. Circumstances aside, this wasn't becoming of him. He attempted to calm himself down. Words just couldn't help but escape.

  “We buried this a long time ago. It was too dangerous, too foolish to toy with God's creations like that,” the words released from Donald's lips with a tremendous amount of weight. “Agent M was a mistake. I should never have accepted that job. Is this God's way of punishing me?”

  “No Donald, it's not your fault.” She hoped empathy would win him over now because her swayed honesty sure didn't.

  “Please Nicole,” he countered, “I designed the metabolic formula that attempted enhance the human body but all it did was destroy. Even to this very day. It still just destroys.”

  Her methods weren't working. An alternate route was now required. This was one she was hoping not to go down towards but she had little choice now.

  “Donald, there's no use sulking here. The past is the past. You have the ability to help me now. Don't let your conscious eat at your heart. Believe me, I know how you feel.”

  This is what Donald was waiting to hear. What he needed to hear. Nicole was right. She knows exactly how he felt. He stood next to her on the deck of that aircraft carrier as she watched Mavryk disappear. That horrifying sound still haunts his dreams. She went through such terrible pain that Donald wouldn’t wish on anyone. Even his enemies.

  Sympathy was his only other weak point. Donald would do anything for anyone if he believed he had the power to help them. Unfortunately for Nicole, there was no else.

  “I came here today Donald not only to ask for your help, but to confide in you.”

  This tickled his interest. Nicole’s best friends were always secrets. If she was going to reveal one of them now then it had to be for good reason.

  She questioned deeply how to say this. It would be hard for anyone and seemed even more so for Nicole. In all honesty, Donald was one of the best friends she ever had. He deserved to know. There was no one else she could tell.

  “I don’t have much time left.”

  Words like that hit harder than a freight train against a mound of butter. “Not long after the project was terminated, I was diagnosed with Sarcoidosis. It was treated immediately but soon enough, I had a relapse. Then another. And finally one more. It’s been that way for the last ten years. Every doctor I’ve spoken too has said it’s a miracle I’m still alive.”

  Sarcoidosis is a rare condition that Donald had glanced over once in his early days of school. It's an inflammatory disease that attacks certain organs of the body. Fatalities are rare but can still occur depending on the affected area.

  “How did this happen?”

  “Damned if I know,” she jokingly affirmed. Levity might make things easier to explain. “I’ve been fighting it for ten years. They said it’s been attacking my heart. Weakening it. And I’m not sure how much longer my body can hold out.”

  “How much time did they give you?” Nothing but concern echoed in those words. This was once one of his dearest friends after all.

  “Some said six weeks. Others gave me six years. I don’t know what to believe anymore. After fighting for this long, I’ve just given up.”

  “But why?” An eager Donald responded. “How could you give up without eliminating every viable option?”

  His words touched her greatly. No one has shown this kind of concern for her in a long time. Nicole’s past was full of regret. There were so many things she did for the good of her country, or so she was told. She could still smell all of the blood on her hands.

  “Because,” she argued. “I deserve this.
My punishment for all of the years of deceit.”

  Her determination for this country amazed Donald. Everything she did was for America and the government that served this great land. The one thing Donald loved about Nicole was her dedication. She gave everything she had to her work. And yet after all of that she is still remorseful and willing to repent for all of her sins. That was a trait to be admired. Help and support was the only thing he could offer her at this point. Nicole deserved it at the very least.

  Donald immediately began running through possible scenarios. He wasn’t a detective in any sense of the word but as far as specialists go in the field of biochemistry, everyone knew his name. All kinds of companies expressed their interest. He made sure to hold his finger to the pulse of the industry. From major breakthroughs to colossal failures, Donald would know about it.

  “This has to be the work of a pharmaceutical company.”

  Nicole made sure to focus all of her attention towards her old colleague.

  “You can rule out the big ten.” He was referring to the top ten largest pharmaceutical companies in the world. “They're under so much scrutiny from the F.D.A. that they can’t afford nor would they even consider sending a product like this into the field. Especially if it's as volatile as you say it is.”

  Solid advice so far. At least they have a jumping off point. Nicole would have to make a phone call as soon as she was done here and get the house back in order. Donald continued.

  “I’d rule out anyone in the lower bracket as well. The risk is too great. Especially for a substance that seems relatively untested. That leaves the middleweights and the high risers.”

  “High risers?” Nicole was unfamiliar with this term.

  “You know, companies that have made significant jumps in terms of size, profits, and global exposure. Anyone using this formula must have made a considerable dent in the industry. They would have to in order to be producing this chemical the way they have. Still, it wouldn’t take a genius to play with it and make it useful. That is why I wished it stayed buried.”