by J. G. Martin
“You mean, were a general.”
The two men on the other side of the glass shared a look. “Sure. Was a general. Now release my man.” The former sergeant commanded.
“I want answers first. What is going on here?” Derek demanded.
The two men shared another look. “That is classified and on a need to know basis. Frankly we don’t trust you enough to share more than we have. Just bringing you here was a huge risk. You could be a Collective or U.S.T.G. spy.”
Derek growled and instinctively tightened up his grip on the unconscious soldier in his arms. “Okay, then what is going on with my DNA?”
Rora spoke before the either of the two men could answer. “I may know something about that.”
All three stared at her in amazement. “Do tell…” Derek invited her in a cold tone.
“I think you are superhuman.” She ventured.
“Like Wolverine or Spiderman?” Derek asked incredulously.
“Not exactly. It’s just a guess, but my father worked on a project for the U.S. Army called Project SuPERHUMAAN. It stood for Superior Physique Endurance Reflexes and Healing and Upgraded Mental Acuity Agility and Night vision. They were trying to recreate specific animal biologic responses in humans. He mentioned that they experimented on dying patients to see if they could trigger the lizard’s regenerative abilities. He figured if they died then nothing was lost, but if it worked they could save that man. You said you were blown up in China and woke up in the U.S. Maybe they did it to save you while you were unconscious. It would explain your strength, night vision, super-fast reflexes, amazingly accurate aim, and uncanny healing ability.”
The scientist and the general looked at her and nodded. “That would explain the link to the Collective.” The scientist murmured.
“Wait. So I’m not human anymore?” Derek asked in confusion.
“I think the correct term is trans-human…” Rora replied cautiously.
“What the heck does that mean?” Derek demanded.
“Think of it as an improved version of humanity with greater abilities.” The scientist explained.
“I guess that explains everything…I’m not a Collective spy. So how do we resolve our current standoff?” Derek asked.
“We still don’t know you well enough to read you in. But, we might have a way for you to prove yourself. We have a job that only someone with your unique skill set and experience could solve for us…” The general offered.
“Yes, complete this task for us and we could be sure of your trustworthiness and bring you into the circle.” The scientist agreed excitedly.
“What exactly is this task that I am uniquely suited for?” Derek asked dryly.
“The Cartel took three of our people; we want you to get them back.” The general explained simply.
“That’s all huh. What about the other people trying to kill me to get the device? The U.S.T.G., the Collective, and the Outfit.”
“The government and the Collective don’t go into Cartel territory and I wouldn’t worry about the Outfit, the rumor is they were wiped out yesterday.”
Chapter 8
June 16, 2029
Outfit HQ near Lenoir, NC
The ruins smoldered as Captain Tom Zabrowski surveyed the remains of the Outfit’s headquarters. Burned vehicles and dead bodies littered the grounds. The buildings themselves had been reduced to piles of concrete. His troops, the elite Red Berets, searched the complex for survivors; but he suspected there would be none. The Outfit troops had fought to the last man in defense of their little paradise. He had to admit with grudging respect that they had been worthy foes. They had put up a much greater fight than expected, which had resulted in the use of the Red Berets in addition to regular commandos.
The attack was supposed to be a surprise. Stealth helicopters were to have dropped the commandoes into the complex where they would kill the few Outfit guards, secure the facilities, and take the intelligence stored there. Ground troops would sweep in shortly thereafter to take over. But there had been many more troops than expected and the base had been prepared for their attack. Tom suspected that the traitor inside the Outfit had actually been a double agent and had warned them of the attack.
Hidden Surface to Air Missile batteries had shot down the approaching choppers with a heavy loss of life. Intelligence had not indicated that level of capability and the attacking troops were caught completely off guard. Well entrenched and camouflaged anti-tank guns and heavy machine guns had also wreaked serious havoc on the ground troops, driving them back. The commanding officer had been forced to call in airstrikes to silence them. The resulting ruins had then provided great protection for the remaining defenders. The ensuing battle had ultimately resulted in the complete destruction of the base and the death of everyone on it. It was still unclear where the Outfit had gotten all their materiel, but he suspected they had been smuggling it in for years from the various hot spots they had been deployed to. That indicated a very high level of planning and organization.
They had still been wiped out by the inexorable might of the U.S.T.G. military. Served them right for going against the rightful government. If they hadn’t been planning a coup against the President, this never would have happened. But they had succeeded in causing heavy casualties and the destruction of very valuable vehicles. There were few new armored vehicles and even fewer helicopters being built. The materials were in short supply and there was limited manufacturing capability. Add to that the failure to capture any meaningful intelligence, of which the Outfit surely had a good deal, and the operation was almost a complete failure.
His men swept the rubble for anything valuable anyway. They were also using handheld devices to fingerprint and do retinal scans every Outfit man they could find. They would be checked against the database of known Outfit people to make sure they got them all. They were especially trying to find the body of the CEO Alvin Prinz. Unfortunately many bodies were completely buried in the rubble and may never be dug out. But he was thorough and followed orders completely. That was how he had become the commander of Zeta Force, the elite of the Red Berets. The elite of the elite.
Tom smiled to himself. Not bad for a Polish kid from Chicago. He had excelled on the football field playing linebacker for the Chicago Bears. His ferocity and tenaciousness had gotten him noticed by the Army recruiters and they had sent him to basic training. His utter loyalty to the regime and his brutality in combat training had gotten him selected for Red Beret training. He had quickly risen in the ranks as he completed each mission without hesitation or failure.
The Red Berets were sometimes called the Bloody Berets behind their backs. The legend was that they dyed white berets red with the blood of their first kill. It wasn’t true, but the Red Berets were known for the unwillingness to retreat, as well as their brutality and lack of restraint. They finished the job or didn’t come back. They were the elite special forces of the U.S.T.G. and they were sent into difficult and sometimes secret situations. They were the scalpel to the Army’s hammer. Thousands tried out every year, but only three hundred or so made it; and some of them were removed because they weren’t willing to go as far as necessary to be a Red Beret.
Tom had risen even further to become the commander of the Zeta Force. He had a reputation as one of the most dedicated and loyal officers in the Army. He was also well known for his cool headedness under fire and his complete lack of fear. He had gathered similar people around him to serve under him. They were truly the best soldiers in the world, and they had proven it again by wiping out the Outfit.
They were equipped with the latest technology that the U.S.T.G. could get its hands on or manufacture. They all had advanced Tetsudo 3 body armor that had been produced during the Collapse for Force Protection units. It was lighter than Kevlar with just as much stopping power and it also had the secondary function of camouflaging their heat signature. And it also covered the arms and legs in addition to the torso. Nothing short of a 20mm cannon round coul
d penetrate it. A helmet with an attached face mask that sealed for nuclear, chemical, or biological attacks completed the armor. Although, most of the time they left that off and just used a neoprene facemask. The armor matched their BDUs and was covered in digital pattern desert camouflage, which made sense now that everything was brown.
He and his troops had just been issued the new M-18 Infantry Combat Weapons from the new plant in the restarted Springfield Armory. The M-18 ICW program encompassed a series of weapons for various roles based on the same lower receiver. Barrels, the upper receiver, and accessories could be swapped out to create the right weapon for the mission. Much of the weapon was made from composite materials, and the whole thing was made on state of the art commercial 3-D printers. It replaced all rifles and machine guns previously used by the army and it was more accurate, had a higher rate of fire, and was easier to maintain. Eventually the entire Army and Federal Police force would get the new weapons, but for now only the elite forces were armed with it.
He watched as his handpicked troops searched through the ruins for anything useful. There was Lieutenant Rosarita “Rosa” Martinez, his second in command. Tom didn’t care what race or sex a person was, only how loyal and skilled they were. She was tall for a woman at 5’9” and in great shape. She had been an MMA fighter on the Detroit Strikers, an American Fighting Championship team, before joining the Army. She was still a fitness freak and a vicious hand to hand fighter. She carried an automatic grenade launcher which she could use to devastating effect.
With her was Sergeant Zach Shrader, his heavy gunner. At 6’5” the man was a monster and handled the heavy barreled M-18M that had replaced the SAW like it was a pistol. He was very strong and equally stupid, but he was very loyal to Tom personally and therefore very reliable. He was also a muscle freak and often lifted with Rosa. Tom suspected they had a thing on the side, but no one ever talked about it. Zach was also from Detroit. He had been a young street kid struggling to survive and had heavy scarring from that time. He had originally joined the Army so he could eat. But he had found that the Army didn’t care that he was black or dumb and had valued his immense physical gifts and blind loyalty. He and Tom had been together since basic training at Fort Pinnacle in Northern Indiana, where Tom had defended him against soldiers bullying him for his lack of intelligence.
The wiry Sergeant Savio Montoya was his explosives expert. An ex-gang member from Cleveland, he mostly kept to himself. Tom found him slightly creepy, but he obeyed orders and was a wizard with explosives. His improvised devices had saved their lives several times. That allowed him to overlook the fact that Savio seemed to sneak off a lot during their down times. But he was also a great scrounger and frequently had hard to find parts or forbidden food he shared with the team. He carried an M-18C Carbine.
The sniper of the team was Sergeant Saad Ali, a third generation Arab from Battle Creek, Michigan. He was very quiet and very focused; which of course was perfect for a sniper. Tom knew little about him since he kept to himself. Saad had been investigated after a rumor had surfaced he was a Muslim, which was illegal in the U.S.T.G. The only legal religion in the U.S.T.G. was the state sponsored Church of America. The investigation had found nothing and been dropped. Saad had won the Riflemanship Challenge for three years running before he “retired” and he had never missed a shot in combat as far as Tom knew, and that was all he cared about. His M-18S had a longer barrel, custom grip, and a special scope on it and he treated that thing like his baby. Tom didn’t need to know anything about him except that Saad was an excellent shot.
Surveying the team’s work from the other side was his ranking NCO, Master Sergeant Jamal Bennett. Jamal was an enigma to Tom. A tall, fit black man who only spoke when necessary and never shared any personal details. The only things Tom knew about him, was that he was from Chicago like himself and he was an excellent NCO. Always calm, cool, and collected under fire. His advice had proven very valuable and Tom leaned on him heavily for his combat experience. Jamal carried an M-18AR(G) with an under slung grenade launcher and had a belt of 40 mm grenades looped over his shoulder.
Near him was the odd couple of the team, Sergeants Bryan Stone and Daron Jones. Stone was an unabashed redneck from Indiana and Daron was a young black man who had made it out of the ghettoes of St. Louis. Bryan was his point man and carried the M-18CS which had an under slung semi -automatic shotgun. His hunting skills and fieldcraft were second to none. When he wanted to be he was completely silent.
Unfortunately, he and Daron were rarely quiet, always jawing at each other. Daron was the team’s mechanic and had a natural ability with engines. He had entered the army as a raw recruit with no skills, but the drill instructors had discovered his aptitude and put him in advanced training. That was the beauty of the new Army. It was truly merit based. Race, age, and gender mattered little. It was all about what you could do and if you were loyal enough to do it. Daron had thrived in his new environment and had risen quickly in the ranks. Daron also carried an M-18C Carbine.
Corporals Michael Wu and Alex Smith rounded out his team. Both men carried M-18C Carbines which they barely used. Wu was a fourth generation Chinese-American from Pittsburgh. Like most Pittsburghers he was very mouthy; which got him in a lot of fights. His good looks got him a lot of attention from the ladies, so it didn’t hurt to have him as your wingman on leave. He was the team’s communications expert and carried the long range communication gear. He and Smith hung around together all the time and it was at first rumored that they were gay, but the rape claims against Smith had dispelled that.
Smith was his problem child. Apparently a sociopath who used the Army as his excuse to do bad things, he was also an excellent medic. His average appearance made him seem harmless and made him seem the odd man out on the team. He had been busted down from sergeant multiple times for bad behavior, usually abuse of prisoners. Tom had brought him onto the team and used him as an interrogator, which suited the Ohio native just fine. Occasionally he went too far, but Tom always explained it away as patriotic zeal to his superiors. This had earned him Smith’s loyalty.
All in all, they were a very experienced and capable team. They had performed dozens of successful missions and brought everyone back alive. Even on missions that had privately been considered suicide missions by his superiors. This had earned them a degree of freedom and extra privileges. Their reputation for loyalty and success meant they only got the toughest and most sensitive missions. As long as they kept performing they would keep their status. That was a powerful motivator.
He was yanked from his surveillance by a chime in his earpiece. “Captain. I have General Ross for you.” A seductive female voice purred.
General Ross was the commander of the entire Red Berets and three levels of command above him. It must be important. Not that this operation wasn’t important at a high level, but it was rare for the General to communicate with anyone other than his direct reports. A thin man with a hyperactive personality and a reputation for a quick temper, General Ross had become the head of the Red Berets through his connections with the Headquarters staff. He was known as a hard partier and gambler, but he always showed up on time and was a very capable leader. His troops were always well trained and high performing.
“Yes sir, what can I do for you?” Tom replied seriously into the vox speaker on his neck.
“How goes the cleanup in Lenoir?” The General asked.
“It’s going sir. We had to practically level the place to pacify it. The Outfit troops fought to the death to defend it. Unusual for merks.” Tom reported.
“Yes, that is unusual. But they were fanatics trying to overthrow the rightful government so it isn’t that surprising.”
“Very true sir. What did you really need from me?” He dared to ask.
The general chuckled. “Very astute son. I have a very critical mission I need your team for. Completely off the books and the fate of the country may depend on it.”
Tom didn’t even hesitat
e. “Anything you need done sir, we will get it done for you.”
“I see your reputation is well earned, but this one will test you. Do you remember Derek Storm?” The general asked.
“The Major that blew up Savannah? Yes, I remember him. We never served together since I was just entering the Army at the time he was executed. What about him?” Tom replied.
The general lowered his voice as if worried about someone overhearing them. “He wasn’t executed. We executed someone else in his place. He was supposed to be exiled, but General Merkel had him thrown out of a helicopter.”
“I don’t understand sir.” Tom replied, confused.
“Someone in the government pulled strings to get him set free. We couldn’t let people believe he assaulted a superior officer and was a traitor and he was let to live, so we executed a convict that looked like him. He was supposed to be dropped off outside the border, but General Merkel couldn’t let it go and had him dropped off a helicopter. Somehow Storm survived the fall and disappeared into the wasteland.” The general explained.
“How did he survive the fall?”
“We don’t know. He suddenly appeared a few days ago allegedly in possession of a device we need to get our hands on. You need to kill him and retrieve the device. We already sent three commando squads to kill him and take the device but he singlehandedly killed all three squads.”
Tom whistled. “Impressive. So you want my team to track him down and get the device?”
“That is correct. But you aren’t the only ones after him. The Collective has sent someone after him and the Outfit had sent men as well. It was part of their plot. He has evaded or killed everyone after him so far. We think he is getting outside help but we cannot determine who. Tell no one about the mission. Don’t even tell your team the details. This is strictly need to know, and they don’t need to. Got it?” General Ross asked in a serious tone.
