Page 9 of Scar

Once he’d managed to get out of the straitjacket, Scar searched his body for any incisions that could indicate a tracker injection site. He’d found three and had to dig them out with the tip of his stolen knife. Borrowing the x-ray machine inside a mobile clinic’s van proved he’d gotten them all, as well as confirmed that there were no bullet fragments left inside him. An x-ray would not show him what had been done to his shoulder, so that would have to wait.

Scar felt no remorse for scaring the tech who’d helped him out under duress. The guy had been idling in the parking lot of a senior living facility using binoculars to look across the street at a kids’ playground. A quick look at his phone showed the man hadn’t acted on any of his fantasies. It was a fine line, because he hadn’t actually done anything yet, but the fact that he was thinking about it, researching, and writing apology letters to the kids he was masturbating to was enough for Scar.

He snapped the man’s neck before leaving the van. At some point, the senior living facility would wonder why the clinic’s van was still in their parking lot and go investigating. Scar would be long gone before the body was discovered.

Unfortunately, the tech was not the right size for Scar to procure any of his clothing. For that, he had to wander some back alleys for a bit until he found a clothing donation box. Being in the city made him uncomfortable, especially one of the most heavily surveilled cities in the world. The metal donation bin had not had a wide selection, but it had been enough to provide him with clothing so he didn’t stand out in a crowd. A baseball cap, hoodie pulled over his head, and sunglasses helped to obscure his face for any cameras. He didn’t care if civilians thought he looked like he was headed to rob a bank. He needed to move without facial recognition software picking up his features and flagging Primis.

The flip flops on his feet would need to be replaced soon, but going barefoot in the city would be a massive red flag.

A valet parking garage provided him with the transportation he needed. The nondescript Civic took him out of the city until he hit Virginia. The nearestAmtrakstation allowed him to swap out the Civic for a RAV4.

Scar needed supplies before he did anything else. He had multiple storage facilities set up throughout the entire country, as well as Canada, Mexico, and one in Europe. The closest one from Washington, D.C., would be in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Unfortunately, there was a good chance Primis knew about that one as he’d caught a few of Alpha’s hired guns sniffing around the area a few years ago.

It was going to be a bit of a drive, and backtracking, but he headed to Baltimore instead. Without money, he couldn’t pay for gas or a phone. He’d need to be careful about leaving a trail of stolen cars in his wake, especially after already dropping a body.

Alpha knew about Mount Grove, and that was going to be problematic. The man might be desperate to obtain Scar for his arsenal, but he was not stupid enough to descend on Mount Grove en masse. He would have done his research on the VDMC and known he wouldn’t be facing some street thugs with guns. Additionally, Primis needed to keep up their public persona. They’d lose their government funding in a heartbeat if it was discovered they’d attacked Americans on US soil.

The issue wasn’t him going to Mount Grove with an army to wipe it out, though he certainly had the firepower to do so. No, it was the stealth attack that would prove most fatal. A hit-and-run, a car accident, a needle to the abductor digiti minimi, or a dose of arsenic in a wineglass.

Once Scar got to Mount Grove, he’d be able to assess the situation and make necessary decisions. Alpha had said he’d been unconscious for seventeen days. He needed to figure out what day it even was. The clock on the dashboard told him it was approaching eight at night, but he still didn’t have a date.

Scar didn’t like the disorientation of being forced to sleep for so long. It had been years since he’d slept more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. If he could take away sleep altogether, he would, but unfortunately his body still requiredsomerest.

He was able to make it to Baltimore with the gas he had in the acquired RAV4. Just for shits and giggles, he left the crossover in the driveway of a known drug dealer—in case Primis happened to catch up to the vehicle. Too bad he couldn’t stick around to watch the fallout.

It was after one in the morning when he reached the storage unit. Running several miles to get from where he’d ditched the car to the storage facility had taken a lot longer than it should have. He was dragging his feet and having trouble regulating his breathing by the time he arrived, but he still knew he wouldn’t sleep.

The storage units Scar kept were the same, regardless of location. There was always a car or a bike inside, a military-grade laptop, clothing, food, water, and weapons. He also rigged the units so they filled with liquid concrete if anyone but him entered. That way he would know if anyone tried to tamper with his food stores.

The freeze dried food pouches came in handy on the road because they didn’t necessarily have to be heated or liquified to be consumed.

Scar didn’t eat much, maybe what the average person would consider a serving per day, and only drank water. He’d tried to eat more after he’d been rescued, but his stomach couldn’t take it. After he’d watched a nurse at the VA sneeze on his breakfast plate before trying to serve it to him, Scar had been unable to consume anything that he did not make himself or watch being prepared.

He was aware his idiosyncrasies would never make himnormalby any definition. But he’d been deprived of ever beingnormalthe second his Delta team had been ambushed.

At first glance, the storage unit was nothing out of the ordinary. Both the car and the motorcycle were nondescript. A stainless steel red tool box was next to a work table on one side of the vehicles and a tall wardrobe stood on the other side.

Scar went to the toolbox first. He needed food and water or he was going to fall unconscious, whether he wanted to or not. He hadn’t been in this rough of shape in a lot of years. Even when José had found him in that rundown bar in Texas, Scar hadn’t been this bad.

The bottom drawer of the cabinet held multiple liter water bottles. He’d gotten them straight from the bottling factory and yet he still pulled out the test kit to ensure none of it was tampered with before drinking.

He gulped down nearly two liters before he started to feel a semblance of better.

Scar sat at the worktable. Since his stomach was empty, he started out with some oatmeal made with powdered milk. It wasn’t the tastiest of meals, but he wasn’t going for a Michelin Star. The toolbox also held a laptop. He often had to do research on a target, and since Scar’s targets tended to end up dead, it needed to be untraceable.

As he pulled up an encrypted chat box, his eyes fell on the date in the top right corner of the screen.

Alpha had lied. Fuck. That changed a lot of Scar’s mindset about what he was now facing. Scar had been shot at the end of April and it was now the end of May. That meant he’d been in the medically induced coma for longer than seventeen days.

Why would Alpha lie? Moreover, since when did Alpha start lying? Despite their differences, Scar had always had a modicum of respect for Alpha. The man was brutally honest and he didn’t bluff. If he said he was going to do something, he did it. He didn’t care whose feelings he hurt or who got into trouble from that honesty. He was powerful and did not need to lie to get his way.

The face of Primis, George Shepard, lied through his teeth. The public and even parts of the government believed Primis to be honorable and patriotic. They spent a lot of money on that public image and George Shepard always had a plan to make Primis come out on top.

But Alpha?

Scar’s stomach twisted at the unease. What had changed in the eight years since he’d walked out of Primis to suddenly make Alpha a liar?

Scar did not like not knowing.

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