by J. M. Madden
He tried to keep his eyes open, but it was impossible. Giving in, he allowed the blackness to take him.
Chapter 7
Wulfe looked toward the brightly lit Colonial on the north side of Arlington. It was a beautiful house, though not as ostentatious as what he would expect the second highest ranked military official in the nation to have. Actually, he’d half expected him to live on a base somewhere. It had seemed fortuitous that the Vice Chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Alan Holtman lived so close to them. Wulfe was only about seven miles from his own house that he shared with Elizabeth, Blake, and Seben.
They were at home now, and Jordyn was hanging with them. Fontana and his woman had flown out from Denver today to try to help, and Wulfe was especially glad to have Fontana at his back. The man was a powerhouse and they worked well together. So, while the women took a few hours of downtime and tried to relax, Wulfe and Fontana crept around the general’s house, dodging more than a few personal security guards. So far, they hadn’t spotted any Secret Service. The VCJCS wasn’t normally assigned Secret Service protection, though the President could order it if he felt it was necessary. The men stationed around the house appeared to be personal security.
Wulfe angled around the house to the back side, where he knew the General’s study was. It took a few minutes to subtly encourage security that something needed checked out front. One man was especially resistant, and it took Wulfe an inordinate amount of time to finesse him away. Going low as soon as the men disappeared, Wulfe and Fontana moved to the back of the house.
Hold on, Wulfe. There’s something…
There was an electronic flash near the top of the door.
Okay, good to go.
They slipped into the general’s study. Wulfe had thought about several different ways to do this, but this way had seemed the most direct and impactful. He didn’t want to make the man insecure in his own house, but he needed to express to him how vulnerable he was to just two enhanced soldiers. Listening carefully, they went into the General’s study to wait for him, one at each side of the room.
It seemed like mere moments when they heard the general wish his wife goodnight and the sound of her footsteps on stair treads, then a second set of footsteps heading toward the study.
Wait, Wulfe, something’s not right…I think we’ve been made. Incoming!
No sooner had the words hit his brain than four men entered the room, guns drawn. Wulfe and Fontana were ready, though. Moving like the beast that he was, Fontana engaged, fists and legs flying. Wulfe heard the guns click, but he and Fontana were both concentrating on disabling the actions of the weapons. Moving smoothly Wulfe threw out his fists, convincing the men that they were hurt much more than they were. He took out both of his attackers, letting them fall to the floor next to Fontana’s. Wulfe didn’t turn in time to stop the General’s bullet, though. It skimmed along the hairline at his left temple, and only his innate instincts for self-preservation had him spinning away from the projectile in time. Continuing the spin, he slammed his hand over the barrel of the general’s gun, rocking it back toward the man to force his hand to release.
Immediately the general dropped into a fighting stance, ready to go hand to hand. Wulfe held up his own hands, unloaded and tossed the Glock to the leather chair a few feet away. “We’re not here to fight you, General.”
“What the hell are you doing breaking into my home, then,” the man growled, not relaxing his stance.
Wulfe could see that the man knew how to fight, and would, but he didn’t want to engage if he didn’t have to. This entire operation was a gamble, so he took another one. “How would you like to take down Senator Cameron Hall?”
The general’s pale blue eyes flickered, but his face didn’t change. “Why would I want to do that?”
Though he’d tried to hide it, Wulfe could feel his eagerness. “Because he’s killed active and former military personnel. Some in the testing programs he’s authorized and endorsed, and others through being his personal guards. He flaunts the privilege of his position both as a senator and as a personal friend of the president. And right now, he’s holding captive a man that we vowed to keep safe.”
The general, eyes expressionless, relaxed his stance and straightened, though the wariness didn’t leave his eyes. The man tilted his head and Wulfe realized he was motioning to someone. From just beyond the wall, mere feet away, a well-dressed woman with cold, pale green eyes stepped out. She wore a pink sweater, white blouse, gray slacks and a pearl necklace. But her shoulder length blondish hair was drawn back into a low, messy ponytail and she carried an AR15 at the low-ready. Wulfe blinked and glanced at Fontana. The other man was grinning, brows raised.
Did you know she was there?
Nope.
How had they not sensed her?
The woman let the AR drop loose in one hand and she took her husband’s hand with her other. “We’ll hear you out,” she murmured.
Within just a few minutes they were seated at the dining room table with tall glasses of iced tea in front of them. Wulfe had been given a small hand towel to stop the bleeding at his temple, but he could tell it was already healing. Then they waited for the guards to awaken. Once they made sure everyone had recovered from being knocked out, the general sent the security outside, over their protests. Now the four of them sat at the table and Wulfe tried to think where to start.
“Fontana and I were held captive for months by Damon Wilkes at his Silverstone Collaborative research camp in Brazil, where Dr. Edgar Shu tested a formula to create enhanced soldiers. Have you heard anything about this?”
The general narrowed his eyes, but didn’t answer, so Wulfe continued.
“Fontana and I, as well as two others, were imprisoned at the camp for almost a year before we were able to break out make our way back to the States. We scattered and went underground for a couple of years. We had very little contact, even with each other, until Damon started sending mercenaries and assassins after us. We each had a piece of evidence against the Silverstone Collaborative, but we didn’t know that it could only be accessed together. Once we compiled the information, we realized we had Dr. Shu’s original notes. In it he laid out where all the camps were that he had tested on military personnel that had volunteered for the research project. These were men from your country, and many others. I am from Germany. We,” he motioned between Fontana and himself, “were one of the first groups to be tested upon, and the only ones who ever escaped.”
“As far as we know,” Fontana murmured, speaking for the first time.
“Since we’ve found the doctor’s notes,” Wulfe continued, “we’ve liberated more than sixty men from torture camps around the world, but we also found mass graves of those that didn’t survive and weren’t sent back to their home country, for one reason or another. We are currently treating men with amputations, gunshot wounds, deglovings, poisonings, a whole range of injuries. During preliminary assessments, about twenty percent were found to have been infected with illnesses, such as polio, smallpox, even cancer. Dr. Elizabeth Cole, my wife, has worked herself to the bone, trying to recover the company her ex ruined, take care of the men we’ve rescued and care for our son. Several months ago, Blake was kidnapped by the man he thought his father, and they were taken to Senator Hall’s estate in Florida.”
“The senator testified about this,” the general said, glancing at his wife. “I wasn’t there but I read the briefing.”
Wulfe nodded. “Correct. And he was exonerated of charges, even though he was there to do a tradeoff with Wilkes. Hall had eased Wilkes’ way through the bureaucratic red tape, allowing the Silverstone Collaborative to continue testing on the ‘volunteers’ from the military. It was shrouded under some pharmacological jargon through the NIH, but basically, they were trying to create enhanced soldiers, then the serum was going to be sold to the country with the highest bidder. After Wilkes and Hall had taken their share first, of course, to be used at their discretion.”
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br /> Moira Holtman looked at her husband, her expression trying to convey some message. Her eyes were wide in her pale face and her pulse had picked up. Wulfe could feel anxiety and guilt, horror, along with a heavy dose of resignation and a huge amount of building rage from the general. Anxiety churned in Wulfe’s gut. They’d researched the general and his family, but had there been something that they’d missed? Noah had been sure that the man had repudiated Damon’s advances, but perhaps he’d been approached more than the one time. Or maybe someone else had gotten to the general.
Are we exposing ourselves to the enemy?
Fontana glanced between the two of them, arms crossed over his heavy chest. I just don’t know. There’s something off about this, though. Ask him, point blank.
“General, are you aware of the Silverstone Collaborative’s actions using U.S. military personnel?”
The general’s jaw tightened and he straightened in the chair. “I knew there was testing going on, but it wasn’t until I started hearing about the CIA involvement in South America that I realized something wasn’t right. Then there were whispers, nothing exactly concrete but enough to make a man wonder what was going on.”
Wulfe nodded, feeling the truth of the words. That didn’t explain the guilt. “What whispers did you hear?”
“It was more than just the whispers,” he admitted, looking at his wife. “Moira had breast cancer about eighteen months ago. We were told it was terminal, but we still sought treatment. Chemo, radiation, we exhausted all avenues. A man came to us from the Silverstone Collaborative saying that they had an experimental drug that they thought my wife could benefit from. We talked to a couple of doctors there and the treatment sounded ideal to combat the brain fogginess and forgetfulness she was dealing with from the chemo. We didn’t think it would actually destroy the tumor, though.”
Holtman reached out and took his wife’s hand. “We went back in for follow-up and realized that the cancer had almost completely disappeared. Just from two shots of the experimental serum that the Silverstone Collaborative had given us.”
The general stopped, looking down at their clasped hands. Moira looked up at them, tears pooling in her eyes. “I was literally planning my funeral, but this drug brought me back from the brink of death. I didn’t know there were men dying from it, let alone military men. I would never sacrifice someone else’s life for my own.”
Wulfe could see and feel the devastation of that period in their lives. It was etched into the lines of their faces. Then the general turned to look at him. “As much as we appreciate that she is doing so well, we are complicit in the abuse. We asked about the origins of the drug and they told us it was a derivative of an Amazonian plant and several other things, definitely not approved by the FDA or National Institutes of Health. There was no cost, but they told us that we would be required to do follow up blood tests. We signed a contract to that effect. At the time I was so desperate for some glimmer of hope that I let it go. I didn’t ask any more questions. It wasn’t until Damon Wilkes sent a huge bouquet of flowers to us that I realized that we may have made a deal with the devil.”
Moira stood and went out into the foyer. Wulfe heard a drawer open and close. When she returned she handed him a white linen card.
‘So happy for your recovery. Tell your husband I look forward to seeing him soon.’
Wulfe frowned at the note. “Nothing outright intimidating, though concerning. No other correspondence?”
“A technician came to our home and drew blood from Moira about four months after the treatment, but we haven’t heard anything from the company since then. About four months later Damon invited me to his home downtown, but I declined. So, he called me. He asked about Moira’s health, but I could tell that he already knew everything I was telling him. Eventually he worked the conversation around to some bill that he wanted me to endorse. I’m not a politician like that, but he apparently thought he needed a mouthpiece in the Pentagon. I told him as much as I appreciated the help with my wife, I didn’t feel indebted to him. The company had had a guinea pig for their serum and we’d done the follow up blood test, outside of the FDA’s purview.” He glanced around the table at them. “I don’t think he appreciated that. I told him thank you and hung up.”
Fontana huffed out a laugh. “That probably really pissed him off. Damon Wilkes wasn’t the most understanding of men.”
The general sighed. “I realize that. We waited for retribution but he never did anything I could directly connect to him. We are in the wrong and if we were investigated, we would have to disclose the information, I realize that, but we knew that anything was worth saving her life. About a week after the phone call, though, we were suddenly beset by a series of alarm issues. I hired more security and replaced the system, and we hadn’t had any further problems till tonight,” he said, giving them a speaking look. “How did you do that?”
Fontana grinned. “I just burned out one sensor. It’s an easy fix. And your cameras,” he pointed at the wall of books on the interior wall and out into the foyer, “will come back online when we leave.”
“You’ve turned them off?”
Fontana shook his head. “Just interrupted the energy going to them.”
Narrowing his eyes at the men, Holtman glanced between them. “So, I assume there’s more to you men breaking in here. What do you want?”
Wulfe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We wanted to show you what we could do without exposing ourselves too much. I can tell that every word you and your wife have spoken is true. We need protection, and maybe a bit of a guiding hand. The CIA has been investigating Senator Hall for a while. They know he’s dirty, but they also know that he has the president’s ear. There is a chance that everything Hall has done President Kelvin already knows about, though I personally think he’s guarding his secrets. Damon’s payment to him was one vial of the drug to do with as he chose, but the drug was stolen. We believe the senator is scrambling to engineer the drug himself.” He looked at Moira. “You were probably given a very small amount of Marathon. It has been proven to heal most injuries and illnesses, and not have the side effects that Spartan did. Did a doctor see you?”
Moira nodded. “His name was Ian Pell. I only saw him once and he administered the drug himself. He sat with me for a good while to make sure that I didn’t have any reaction to the injection, then a nurse sat with me for a few more hours. I had some nausea and a headache, but overall it went pretty well.”
“The second generation seems to have been lightened and reengineered. I’m glad you took it as well as you did. Dr. Pell is currently in the custody of the CIA.”
“Will my cancer come back?” Moira asked, a hand going to her throat.
“I am not a medical professional so I can’t answer that. Eliz…Dr. Cole has been working on a protocol to reverse engineer the drug and its effects. She might have a better idea of what could happen in the future.”
Moira nodded, glancing at her husband. “If it did come back, I wouldn’t fight it. I can never take that drug again knowing that our men died.”
Holtman’s tough expression cracked at his wife’s words and fury suffused his emotional makeup. Fury that for all his military might he had no way to fight this opponent. “We would find another way. I refuse to let cancer take you.”
Moira leaned in and pressed a kiss to her husband’s lean cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know, Alan.”
Wulfe let them have their time. The general had behaved recklessly, but if Elizabeth had been in the same position Wulfe would have probably grasped at any lifeline available as well, even if it wasn’t approved by the government.
“What is degloving?” Moira asked, pulling away from her husband.
Wulfe surveyed her. So far, she had proven to be much more than she appeared. “It’s when the skin is removed from an appendage or piece of body, leaving the underlying structures exposed to the air. Dr. Shu and his team seem to have been testing for two mark
ets, primarily military, secondary domestic. The military testing included men recovering from gunshot wounds, knife wounds, deglovings, percussive injuries, and even some amputations. The domestic testing included a broad range of illnesses and diseases, including a broad range of childhood illnesses. The Silverstone Collaborative has a long history of being a leader in pharmacological advancements. It was only when Damon took over the running of the company that the focus split.”
“And your wife is now running the company.”
“Yes, sir. The Dogs of War scrambled to compile the information we’d stolen when we escaped, and I thought it would be worth the risk to contact Elizabeth. I had had a personal relationship with her years ago and I knew what kind of person she is. She had no idea what Damon was doing with the men overseas. Once I advised her what was going on, she began investigating. For several months she was my covert informant.”
Frowning, the general looked between he and Fontana. “That seems convenient.”
Wulfe had a feeling he would have to defend his wife more than once the further they progressed. “We have Damon on audio distancing her from participating in the program before he was murdered.”
Moira gasped, a hand covering her mouth. “He was murdered? I know he had died, but… By who?”
Wulfe shook his head. “We don’t know for sure, but whoever did it stole a vial of the serum.”
Even with his experience, Wulfe could tell that the general was shook. “Someone out there has a vial of this stuff.”
Wulfe nodded. “There were three vials of serum total, stolen from Shu. We have two vials, and one is in the wind. We have no idea who killed Damon and stole it.”
Wulfe could tell that he was digesting the implications of that. If the Chinese or the Russians had taken the vial, they would have an advantage militarily. Wulfe assumed they’d already started their own programs, but he didn’t tell the general that.
“So, what do you need?” The man said eventually. “In my position I don’t have direct supervision over the military, you know that, right?”
