Suddenly, Nia’s pistols felt heavy…so heavy that she couldn’t keep her arms raised. Her grasp on the guns loosened, her fingers unable to summon enough strength to keep a firm grip. Her arms went limp and the twin Baby Eagle pistols slipped from her grasp, pounding into the grass as she began to stumble. Her legs followed suit, starting to feel like wet noodles, unable to support her weight.
Nia didn’t get it. She could dodge bullets. Her superhuman reflexes were so honed she could tell when an assailant was about to shoot. She had an almost clairvoyant ability to predict and evade incoming fire.
But whoever shot her with the tranquilizer dart that stuck out of her butt cheek did so with such precision that her attempt to dodge it only led her right in the line of fire. The shooter even had the good sense to aim at the largest and fleshiest mass of muscle on her body—the easiest and most effective part to hit. That took more than a good shooter. It took someone who would have known precisely how to target someone with her reflexes. Someone who knew her abilities, like—
Nia looked ahead, her vision blurring as she teetered back and forth. A man holding a long scope-mounted rifle rushed across the distant street and ran toward her.
He was barely close enough to look in the eyes when Nia’s legs seemed to drop right out from under her and she crashed on the grass. But before she did, the glare of his spectacles flickered in her eyes and provided her an instant of clarity.
“Hey—!” Nia started to yell his name, but even the strength to give voice to her breath failed before she blacked out.
Twenty-Two
A manmade island sat offshore in the center of the bay, visible from the city’s waterfront, barred from visitors. Dead center on this island, rising above the jungle landscape was a research facility that spent the better part of the last two decades in a derelict state, dark and defunct.
Only a year ago, the facility came back to life, with ferries traveling to and from the island in the midnight hours. No one outside looking in knew what took place there. Only high-level employees of Corp Hudson, and those they choose to approve, could access the island and the facility upon it.
Inside the facility were winding corridors that led to dozens of testing chambers and server-filled computer labs. White coat-wearing technicians milled throughout the base and passed through the halls with memory cards and clipboards and PDAs in their hands, discussing experiments, hypotheses and research results with one another.
Two individuals walked along a corridor approaching a hall of examination rooms. One was a Puerto Rican man in glasses and combat gear; the other was a voluptuous blonde woman, also wearing eyeglasses, as well as a lab coat, a blouse and pleated khaki skirt.
“Thank you, thank you,” the woman cheered. “I always figured somebody in the security detail was worth the big paychecks we hand out.”
“I was just doing my job, Dr. Romedrux,” said Jesús Alvarez. “You wanted Nia Black alive and unharmed. Most of Hudson’s security staff would just as soon put a bullet in her head as look at her, but I know when a situation calls for delicacy.”
“You played that poor girl like a fiddle too,” Romedrux laughed. “But hey, whatever it took to get her here. I’m so glad. I can’t wait until she wakes up.”
Alvarez stopped in his tracks. “What? Why would you want her to wake up?”
She sucked her teeth. “Because—!”
Then the vocals from a well-known pop song echoed from tinny speakers and interrupted the scientist. Chelsea Romedrux lifted her smart phone from her belt, glanced at the screen and hurriedly pressed the ‘Talk’ button.
“Mr. Hudson! How are you? Are you hurt?”
The guttural voice of Maxwell Hudson echoed through the phone. “I’m well, Doctor Romedrux. Let’s not lose time. What did the initial analysis show?”
“We ran blood tests, but there was nothing out of the ordinary,” the woman responded. “I guess Hercules was made too well after all. It just looks like ordinary Type O positive to me.”
“It’s more than that. She was not born with her superhuman strength through some twist of fate. With Target Alpha lost, this woman is the only means I have to figure out how to resurrect the formula.”
“Maybe we need to go deeper,” Dr. Romedrux continued. “We’ve drawn blood, but we could try tissue tests, spinal fluid…perhaps even brain matter…”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Alvarez spoke up. “We can’t risk killing her before we learn the truth…dead cells tell little tales, Doctor.”
“Look, let the thinkers do the thinking, and you soldier-types just keep… soldiering,” Chelsea Romedrux said with spite. “You did a good job, so just worry about keeping guard, okay? We wouldn’t want what happened to my father to happen to me too, right?”
Jesús Alvarez sighed. “I assure you, you are in no danger, Doctor. Nia Black is heavily sedated, and doped up on muscle relaxants. Even if she were conscious, she wouldn’t have the strength to break the shackles.”
Hudson’s voice filled the air again. “I have a meeting to attend. I trust you will have favorable results for me by tomorrow, Dr. Romedrux?”
“You can count on me, Mr. H,” Chelsea smiled. “I’m looking forward to trying out every little trick in the book on this freak.”
The phone line clicked. Alvarez turned to Chelsea.
“So, do you remember what we talked about?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chelsea sighed. “You want access to the storage chamber for defunct projects and applications. It’s all yours. Here’s the key card. You brought me what I wanted, so I’m giving you what you want.”
Alvarez took the key card with a smile. “Well, I’m off.”
Chelsea turned toward the examination rooms as Alvarez walked toward the elevator. He pressed a key near the elevator door and a chime sounded. The door slid open, and a man stood inside.
Alvarez froze in place and grimaced.
“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour?” said the man.
Alvarez turned away.
Casey laughed. “Come on, big guy, let’s let bygones be bygones. I mean, I had my doubts, but you pulled it off. You managed to get Nia Black into custody, and it only cost us…what, a couple dozen soldiers, a fleet of vehicles and a whole mess of ammunition and red tape, right? Oh yeah, and that whole kidnapping-slash-false detainment allegation with that couple that the boss needs to clean up. Yep, all of us officers need to follow your example; you’re the premiere example of a smooth operator.”
Alvarez sighed. For all of the facility’s complexity, it only had one elevator that allowed access to all of its levels, both subterranean and above ground, and Billy Casey was on it. Alvarez eventually stepped into the elevator and stood next to Casey, facing forward. Casey pressed a key and the elevator closed.
“I had nothing to do with any kidnapping,” Alvarez said. “Blame Armstrong for that.”
“Speaking of,” Billy went on, “You know? He was murdered that night. But when we found him, his enhancement was fully activated. It would have taken a hell of a gunshot to get through his flesh in the state it was in. We know that Nia Black doesn’t generally carry—”
“What are you getting at, Casey?” Alvarez snapped. “Do you presume to know exactly what weaponry Nia Black brought with her that night? Do you presume to know whether Target Omega was out there at all?”
“Shell casings we found didn’t match up with any weaponry we use…except for the shot that blew a hole in Armstrong’s chest. That came from a high-powered, customized Desert Eagle… you know, like the one you use.”
“I’m certainly not the only one in Corp Hudson security who carries such a gun.”
“I haven’t done the research, but maybe you’re right,” Casey shrugged. “Just a funny coincidence is all. So, tell me. How’d you do it? How did you get Nia Black to go along with you?”
“It was easy,” Alvarez muttered back, without returning Casey’s look. “I convinced her she’d get what she wanted. I pro
mised her a shot at Hudson himself.”
Casey scoffed. “I wish I’d have thought of that. Of course, if it were me, I would have just approached her without getting our men killed, but hey; to each his own right?”
A pause. For what seemed like an eternity, only the hum of the elevator’s engine filled the air.
“I wonder what Chelsea’s going to do to her. It would be a shame to just let that hot body of hers go to waste, being cut up and pricked and probed in some lab,” Casey spoke again.
“Do you ever shut up?” Alvarez grunted.
“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” Casey chuckled. “You care about her, don’t you? You can’t stand to see that young girl get turned into filling for a Petri dish, right? She’s a dime, I know. But she caused a lot of trouble. She made a choice, and she’s going to pay the price. That’s all there is to it. But you know, there’s something that’s not adding up with me.”
Alvarez finally turned toward Casey.
“Why didn’t you inform anyone of your plan? There was no reason to keep your plans a secret from us.”
“If I had told you, you would have interfered. That’s how you are. You would have done something silly in an immature attempt to steal the glory. It was important to remain professional. Vincent Marks gave command of the mission to me, not you, no matter how you worship being his right hand man.”
“Uh-huh,” Billy shrugged. “And why are you so interested in Hercules?”
“What?”
“I see you’ve got the key card to the storage facility in the basement there,” Casey went on, glancing at Alvarez’s hand. “You bring Target Omega here, and blondie gives you access to a storage room that has nothing but defunct projects and old data stored inside of it…including the data about Hercules. For what? We all know Nia Black inherited the effects of Hercules from her coward father, and that’s why Hudson wants to study her. But what’s your angle?”
“There is other data down there, Casey,” Alvarez said. “What I’m researching is none of your business.”
Casey lost his temper. “You’re hiding something, Alvarez! I know it! And I’m going to find out what it is! I am going to expose you for the fake you are!”
“You talk bravely while we’re on security cameras, Mr. Casey,” Alvarez mumbled as the elevator reached the facility’s lowest level and stopped. The doors slid open, revealing a dusty, dimly lit corridor with flickering lights, their bulbs in need of replacement, a hall clearly infrequently traveled by the facility’s workers, if ever.
“I would strongly suggest you stay out of my way,” Jesús Alvarez grumbled. “You have a good life. Don’t waste it chasing shadows. You should relax. You’ll be the head of the security detail eventually. As soon as Hudson promotes Vincent Marks to something like his personal protector, you’re next in line. You don’t need to kiss his ass any more than you already do.”
Casey watched as Alvarez disappeared down the corridor, staring fiercely until the elevator doors closed in front of him and cut off the view.
Then a jingle echoed in the air and a voice chimed over the public address system.
“Dr. Romedrux, please report to room 23-A.”
The elevator ascended a single floor and the doors opened again. Chelsea Romedrux walked on, gazing at the screen of an electronic tablet in her hand, appearing oblivious to her surroundings. She glanced at Billy Casey briefly and returned her attention to the data displayed on the screen.
The elevator beeped as the doors shut.
“Hi there,” said Billy. He smiled as he looked upon the woman; her green eyes glistening under the elevator lights, widened by the magnification of her glasses, her soft features and fair skin, her long, shimmering, naturally blonde hair…and her stacked figure.
“H-hello.”
“Hey, are you crying?”
“What?” Chelsea stammered, as if shaken out of a daze. “No… I mean… I guess I am. This is totally embarrassing…”
“What’s the matter?”
“This whole situation…I’m just glad it’s over. I’m glad I’m about to get my revenge.”
“Revenge?”
“Yeah, you know, like, vindication,” Chelsea grimaced. “Absolution. Justice. All that.”
Billy frowned. “I know what you meant. But I…don’t know what you mean.”
Chelsea chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself today. That…that bitch killed my father.”
“You mean Nia Black,” Billy Casey surmised. “So you must be Chelsea Romedrux. The new scientist. Everyone says you’re some kind of genius.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Billy smiled. “So, Nia killed your father? You mean Kane Romedrux? I met him a couple of times. He was a good man—sorry for your loss. Still…doesn’t really sound like Target Omega’s M.O.”
Chelsea’s face went tight. “Well, it’s true. She robbed my dad’s facility and, like, for no reason, shot him in the back, twice, after she’d already got past the guards. They found his body in the river. Mr. Hudson told me all about it. He was there when it happened. That’s why I’m here, you know. Mr. Hudson knew that I’m just as talented in the field as my father—heck, I’m better. This job was meant for my dad, and I was just going to be his assistant, so Mr. Hudson decided to give it to me. And my first big project is figuring out what makes that freak tick.”
Billy gave her an affirmative look. “Is she in room 23-A?”
Chelsea nodded. “Mr. Hudson wants me to examine her right away. But I’m not. Not yet. She’s not awake yet. The sedative Alvarez hit her with works for like four hours. They only brought her in an hour or so ago. I want her fully awake. I want her to feel every bit of what I’m going to do to her.”
The elevator chimed again and the doors slid open; it reached the top floor.
Chelsea looked at Billy again. “You’re…what’s your name again?”
“Call me Billy,” he answered.
“Well, Mr. Billy, I’m going to get myself a Slim-Fast and play some Spades online in my office while I wait. Wanna come?”
“Sounds fun, but I’m with security. My job here’s to look out for the staff. It might be best for me to stay near the room, you know, in case she wakes up.”
“No chance of that,” Chelsea sighed, stepping off of the elevator. “But knock yourself out, handsome; by all means do your duty. Maybe we can talk some more another time.”
Billy watched Chelsea’s figure saunter away as she disappeared down the hall, heading toward her office.
“‘Handsome’, huh?” Billy grinned. “You ain’t so bad yourself, babe. But before I give you my attention, there’s something else I want to do first…”
Jesús Alvarez sauntered through the dingy underbelly of the research facility, approaching a large steel door at the end of a long hallway. He approached a card reader adjacent to the door and raised the card key Chelsea Romedrux gave him. With a swipe, the reader’s red LED turned green and the steel door grinded open.
He looked on the shelves inside the dimly-lit room, taking in the sights of the file cabinets caked in dust and rusting along the edges; piles of manila jackets that hadn’t been opened in years; locked safes and refrigerators with shelves stocked with forgotten, unapproved or expired organic matter.
Alvarez made a beeline for a file cabinet, snatched it open and rifled through it quickly. He dragged a folder out with the words Hercules – Notes scrawled upon it. Alvarez flipped through the contents of the folder until he came across an optical disc labeled Hercules – Data, which he promptly slid into his inside jacket pocket.
“Time to move on,” he muttered to himself.
But he didn’t move. Something else caught his attention. A manila folder was protruding slightly above others in a file cabinet with a peculiar name on it:
Hudson Experimental X-terminator Project
Alvarez opened the folder. Inside were scans, blueprints, and all kinds of esoteric text that would probably have made perfect se
nse to a researcher, but not to him. One thing he did recognize was a series of photos inside a section of the jacket labeled ‘Candidates’.
These are… thought Alvarez. Jason Priest. Cherie Wilson. Don Thompson. It’s them…the other three members of the security team. What are they up to?
He began reading.
“‘Development of first generation SS units proceeding normally. Production halted during search for replacement R&D department head. Position filled. Project resumed, expected return to nominal production efficiency in a week. Commanding officer HEX units development halted in lieu of acquisition of Omega. Objective: research Omega’s DNA to determine how it can affect future SS and HEX weaponization development.’”
He froze in place and looked skyward.
Nia…
******
The bright glare of piercing halogen lights cut through the darkness as her eyelids slowly parted.
The stiff, sore and weakened Nia Black lay on a metal table in an examination room, she guessed, based on the computer terminals and monitoring equipment that circled her around the walls in the room, whose hum steadily filled the air along with the murmur of the air conditioning. No one was present. Barely visible over her lower eyelids and the curvature of her chest was a sliding door. Her limbs, restrained by cuffs attached to the surface of the table, could not summon the strength to snap her bonds. They wouldn’t budge.
She wasn’t wearing anything except a hospital gown and her panties. She spotted a locker in a corner of the room that she hoped contained her clothing.
Nia heard footsteps from outside and listened as the door hissed open. A man wearing a blue suit walked in. He was Caucasian, with long brown hair secured into a ponytail, and five o’clock shadow. He looked upon Nia, laid before him like a prize he’d won.
“Just as I thought,” he said. “The sedative works for four hours or so on normal people. But we both know you’re about as far as it gets from normal, right Miss Black?”
“Who the hell are you?” Nia growled.
Beloved Weapon Page 17
