by David Bruno
IRONSIDE & AEGIS
ORIGINS
Print edition ISBN: 9798630385635
Published By Amazon KDP
Amazon, 410 Terry Ave N, Seattle, WA 98109
First edition: April 2020
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www.authordavidebruno.com
This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, organizations, places, incidents and/or events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblence to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Printed and bound in the United States.
To Angela and Katherine,
my drive and inspiration.
PRELUDE
THE TIME IS NOW
EIGHT DAYS BEFORE THE PRESENT:
The doctor flung his arms open as if he would embrace his prisoners, one tied to a chair and the other in a cage suspended from above. Dressed in his usual dapper black suit and topped with a flattop haircut, Dr. Doe spoke with a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. “Mmm, you’re awake, my children.” He looked at his watch as he approached the pair. “Surprising. Enhanced metabolism, too, I see.”
He extinguished his cigarette in an ashtray, exhaled a foul cloud of chemicals, and addressed the heroes. “We had such high hopes for you both. Imagine, you would have been mentors and teachers for the future. History would have looked upon you as gods.” He lightly tapped Aegis’s shoulder, and she rolled her neck at his touch. Her long blonde ponytail swung away from Dr. Doe. Ironside shifted in his cage and tugged on his restraints.
The screech of Aegis’s chair on the floor broke the momentary silence. “Obviously, we haven’t convinced you of our noble intent. Since you won’t join us, we have no use for you. We cannot let you derail our plans.” He sighed. “Nor can we let you leave this place. We created you both, and sadly we now have to dispose of you. Two more failed experiments. Mistakes. Don’t despair too much though. Your genome will be used extensively as we develop our next generation of enhanced humans. In that way, you will live on.” He looked at Aegis. “In one of these frozen vials is the blood of your brother, Victor. He will live just like you will.”
Aegis flared her nostrils and glared, eyes wide and lips trembling. “Have you no humanity, Doe? Let him rest in peace. AHHHH!” Aegis screamed as she violently rocked her chair side to side and struggled vainly against the restraints. It had been many years since Victor had been taken from her and her father. This insult steeled her resolve, which had wavered only minutes before. The Agency must be destroyed—permanently and immediately.
Dr. Doe laughed. He continued with a relaxed smile. “Besides, you have two other brothers to meet yet. Like you, they were created here. They’re on their way as we speak. Once we realized our success in creating you, especially Benny, we reverse engineered those methods and made improvements to synthesize powers in full-grown adults. The slag from the foundry was the key. Even Max doesn’t know about our latest plan. It’s a shame you won’t live to see the new world we’re creating.” He looked upward at Ironside, tilting his head with a gentle, fatherly expression—a father from hell. “In a way, your family gave birth to what’s coming. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I think you will find your new brothers to be true believers in our cause and quite formidable opponents. They will euthanize you swiftly.”
Ironside gritted his teeth and huffed. Words escaped him. Spittle frothed from his mouth as he lashed about in the cage, working himself into a frenzy. “MWAHHHH!”
Motioning to the two guards, the doctor said, “Gentlemen, load these canisters of formula onto the helicopters. Gear up in five minutes. Crop-dusting of the stadium is to commence immediately upon arrival—thirty thousand new recruits. There can be no delay.”
Just then, the lights went out, leaving the complex in total darkness. A loud noise echoed through the laboratory: gunshots! Bullets whistled down the corridor and ricocheted off the sterile white cinderblock walls. Dim emergency lights flickered with inadequate luminescence. The Agency’s guards poured into the hallway and responded with a hail of gunfire, shooting blindly, unable to locate the source of the assault.
Panicked, the doctor shouted into the darkness. “Intruders! Quick, get me out of here!” His voice trailed off as he was whisked away. Munitions flew in all directions. Light fixtures were shot out. Each shot provided momentary radiance, casting shadows on the walls. A trio of Agency guards ran toward any light they could see in a vain attempt to identify the assailants. Each was mercilessly put down. A few wisely hid in the shadows and seized any opportunity to retreat to safety. In mere moments, the chaos of the surprise assault gave way to a silent peace. The power kicked on, and the remaining lights revealed splattered blood on the pockmarked walls, running down to form puddles on the floor. Lifeless bodies slouched motionless, no longer able to carry out the evil will of the Agency. Whoever these attackers were, they were ruthless and brutally efficient.
CH 01
THE AGENCY
1987: WASHINGTON, D.C., THE OVAL OFFICE.
“Mr. President, let me introduce you to Dr. Albert Fischer. He’s one of America’s foremost experts in radioactivity and has been learning how to harness its power for constructive solutions to society’s problems. These include disease diagnosis, protection from radiation exposure, effects on the genome, etcetera. He has been briefed on the meteorite and its unique signature.”
The president smiled and shook Dr. Fischer’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Secretary. Please, both of you sit and let’s talk.” Dr. Fischer was a nerdy-looking man in his early forties. He was bone-thin and dressed in a threadbare suit and horn-rimmed glasses. His hair had left his scalp a decade earlier, leaving only a few tenacious strands desperately clinging to follicles that would rather they simply depart. Until now, his life was spent almost exclusively studying and exploring scientific advances.
The two men took seats across from the president’s desk in the Oval Office. The president filled his mouth with a handful of jelly-bean candies and reclined in his chair. After swallowing the sugary confection, he began to explain his proposal.
“As you know, we’re engaged in a cold war with the USSR. Have been for four decades now. The rhetoric keeps getting stronger, as do the weapons. And as both sides have seen technological advances, we see great risks in one of us using our new weapons against the other. Our country has implemented many safety protocols. But nothing is foolproof, and we’re less certain that the USSR values such protocols. They seem to have itchy trigger fingers. The CIA has informed us that the Soviets are all but bankrupt. We think this will generate a vacuum. Weapons could fall into even-more-dangerous hands, perhaps those of terrorists. Those terrorists may even have superpowers. I don’t have to tell you what would happen if even one missile was launched by such people.”
“World War III,” said Dr. Fischer.
“Indeed. Millions dead. Boundless suffering. We will not tolerate such attacks from outlaws. Our intelligence community thinks our current preventative measures are not enough. Let’s face it, they’re getting expensive as well. The CIA recommends a team of superpowered soldiers. We need teams with abilities such as super strength and speed to be able to face the conflicts of the future.”
“How can I be of service, sir? What does this have to do with the
meteor?” asked Dr. Fischer.
“Patience, doctor. We’ll get there. Do you ever watch the news?” The president took a deep breath and froze his face.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you’ve seen reports of all these superpowered vigilante teams. Many have begun to group together and present quite formidable challenges to law enforcement. I despise vigilantes, and society is rightly rejecting them.” The president leaned back, crossed his arms, and raised his voice. “These incidents used to be rare. But in the past few years, we hear of them nearly every day. I don’t like it! That’s why I recently signed the Superpower Protection Act, which prohibits any public display of powers, including vigilantism, until such time that superpowers are available for all. That last part was a bone thrown to the other side of the aisle to get their approval. They’re all about fairness and wouldn’t sign on without it.” Leaning forward and speaking in a quiet, measured tone, the president squinted. “But we know that’ll never happen.”
“Aren’t they helping people and stopping criminals?” asked Dr. Fischer. He began to wonder if the meeting was a waste of time.
“Yes, some are. But it’s more complicated than that. Many of them have grown up with powers, but some appear to have been created as adolescents or adults by some kind of radiation or chemical exposure. Some are known even to be immune to various types of radiation as a result. If we learn how these abilities and immunities are created, we may be able to duplicate those effects and create a team of enhanced humans to serve the national defense. Of course, research into radioisotope treatments could, in parallel, have other societal benefits such as scanning for disease in the body. We could advance medicine and the human condition greatly by focused study on the subject. Wouldn’t you agree?” asked the president.
The Secretary of State and Dr. Fischer looked at each other and affirmed, “Yes, sir.”
“But why not just recruit these people?” asked Dr. Fischer.
“Good question. We tried. They simply aren’t interested in serving their country. Not one volunteer.” He shook his head and held up a single finger. “Here. Watch this video. It’s a recent interview with a young woman with superpowers. She chose to remain anonymous, which we respected, but her answers clearly show her position and that of many of her cohorts. Watch.” The secretary placed a videotape into the VCR.
A man’s voice came from the background, while the image included only the woman in a costume sitting in a chair. Her identity was concealed by a mask. “We have with us today a young woman who calls herself ‘Peak.’ She has the power of telekinesis and considers herself superior to base humans. Miss Peak—”
“Peak is fine.”
“Okay. Peak. What gives you the right to think you’re superior to us regular people and flaunt the rule of law?”
“That’s quite a hostile question. First, you’re inferring that I think I’m superior. I never said that. However, facts are facts. In many ways people like me are superior. I’ve saved many lives by stopping crimes, most of them normal humans. I ask you, if I have the ability to help, would it not be immoral for me to not do so?” Her lips pressed tightly as she waited for affirmation.
“You’re not in a position of authority. Your kind…”
“My kind?” she said, shaking her head as her face reddened.
“Yes, your kind. You’ve been responsible for millions of dollars in collateral damage and the loss of many innocent lives.”
“Well, we aren’t perfect and we regret the loss of life. But on the whole, we do far more good than bad.”
“Tell that to people who lost family members due to your lack of accountability. What do you say to those who say that if everyone can’t have superpowers, then nobody should?”
“That’s ridiculous. These kinds of powers are not for everyone. Your kind have shown to lack a certain moral responsibility. These powers are not for all.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Most people would not be able to handle them. Also, with regard to what I would say to those who think if everyone can’t have powers, nobody should—what do you intend to do with those of us who have them? Do you want to imprison us? Kill us?”
“Stop the tape!” The tape was paused with a close-up image of Peak’s masked face. “Smug little jerk, isn’t she? Although I admit that I somewhat agree with her point about most people not being able to handle powers. The filmmaker was a bit of a jerk too. You see, one side wants powers for all or none at all. A few even threatened to kidnap those with powers and start their own experiments, or at least imprison them against their will to take them off the streets. The other side wants to conscript superpowered people for the military. A kind of draft.”
“So, what do you want me to do, Mr. President?”
“Neither. Both sets of ideas are barbaric. It’s absurd to give everyone powers, worse to kidnap them. I will also never force a group of citizens to serve without their consent. Instead, my advisors and I want you to create a way to enhance adults—volunteers already in our military. We want an array of powers. Ideally, we want those powers to expire after a few years so these people don’t return to society superpowered. They’ll do their duty and then go back among the people when their missions are complete.”
“That’s a tall order, Mr. President,” said Dr. Fischer as he winced and scratched his bald head.
“We need you to experiment with animals to determine how to give them superpowers. From there, if it’s proven safe, you can start human trials on volunteers. Only adults, doctor. You are not authorized to experiment on children, born or unborn. We’ll finance a staff of physicists, biologists, and engineers of your choosing to develop the technology we need for the rest of this century and beyond. This is a two-part initiative, doctor. One initiative is for public consumption, with intentions to enhance the human condition. The other will have to be done in secret—that being the superpowered defense force. Eventually, it will be made public. But only after the program is in place and we are years ahead of our enemies. Can you do this for your country?”
The president and secretary looked at Dr. Fischer. He pondered the weight of the request for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, Dr. Fisher answered, “It would be my honor, sir. But if I may ask, why me? I have no experience running a program of this magnitude.”
“Excellent question. You’ve been chosen because of your specialized education, skill set, and family history. We’ve been impressed with your family since your parents came here after the Second World War, when you were an infant. They were, of course, former Nazis like other scientists—notably Wernher von Braun—but since coming here after the war, they’ve proven to be true Americans with their pioneering work in medicine.”
The president continued. “Your parents were also interested in the effects of radiation on the human genome. I suppose their early experiments weren’t so… let’s just say, ‘ethical.’ But that’s changed in the years since.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Now is the time to continue this research the right way for the good of mankind and gain full American control of this technology, unlike how it was done back then. A few decades ago, we knew very little about DNA. Now, we’re contemplating manipulating it for national defense, as well as disease research.” The president smiled as he imagined the possibilities.
He added, “In short, we trust you and your family, Dr. Fischer. You are without paradigms to break and are full of life.” Dr. Fischer’s mind wandered as the president spoke. “Though we hope for swift results, this is a project that could take decades. We want you to see it through. You will have the resources of the United States government at your disposal.”
Dr. Fischer noticed that the president had stopped talking. “Uh, thank you, Mr. President. I’ll develop a team based on the requirements you just outlined. Please give me a few weeks and I’ll submit a list of my requirements.”
“Just a moment, Dr. Fischer. You asked about the meteor.”
“Ah, that’s right
. Is this rock the foundation on which my research will be built? The ‘Peter stone’?” Dr. Fischer flashed a cocky smile.
“Blasphemous, Dr. Fischer!” the president shouted as he pounded on his desk, startling the guests. He paused to regain his composure and allow the redness in his face to drain away. He then confirmed, “Yes, it is the source. Our scientists have confirmed that it has high concentrations of Titanium-44 and Scandium-44g. I’m told this is highly unusual, since Titanium-44 is thought to be generated in supernovas. Some of the colliders being built now can create minute amounts of the stuff, but we currently don’t have one big enough to generate this much. Its source is a mystery. Nonetheless, our military sees opportunities to use this material for weaponry—perhaps even fusion bombs or reactors. That will have to wait. My requirements take precedent: skilled warriors with superpowers is your primary mission. Therefore, you get the meteor.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“We’ve already allocated a twenty-acre parcel of land for you near Lancaster, California, outside of Edwards Air Force Base. This will be your headquarters. Construction begins next week. You will be a line item in the ‘black programs.’ This is a top-secret initiative and shall remain unknown to the population and most of Congress. We need to retain tight control over the meteor. It is the world’s largest supply of these isotopes. Just imagine if it leaked out that we were manipulating God’s creation. I don’t have to tell you; the outcry would be loud and I would have to disavow this program. Your agency will have no name. We will refer to you only as ‘the Agency.’ Your accountability will be to me and future presidents and their designees alone under executive order. I want you to maintain ethical treatment of your volunteers and only begin adult human trials when the data prove you are ready and it’s safe. I want results. Understood?”
