Page 1 of Black Bay Protector
Prologue
Seventeenyearsago…
Legratia Pharmaceuticals, Eugenics Lab, Sublevel 2
Something was going on. Through the door of his cell, he could hear muffled screams and people shouting. There were no windows in his room, no bars to see through, but he had the impression of people running, a frantic scrambling out in the hallway.
The distant, yet unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire had him backing up until he was in the corner. He crouched, ready to attack and defend himself if someone entered his space.
Five minutes. Ten. There was no more gunfire now and the screams and shouts had ceased, but there was still something going on. He heard an unfamiliar, hard male voice barking orders. “Get those doors open. Let’s go. Let’s go.”
Was this another test?
A sizzling sound was followed by a pop, and he could smell a hint of smoke from the small charge they’d used to disable the lock. He let out a low growl of warning to whoever was about to breach his room. If this was a test, he would not fail. Not this time and never again. Not after the punishment he’d received for his previous failure to perform up to the white coats’ expectations.
The door swung open, revealing two men. Military bearing, dressed in full tactical gear. He’d seen videos of such men – men he and the other test subjects in this facility had been created to replace.
A memory whispered through his head. He’d been strapped to a gurney at the time, restrained for one of their experiments. Too young then to break the restraints. Doctor Dietrich, dressed in her white coat, eyed him proudly. “My grandfather had a vision,” she’d told him. “A vision for a new breed of soldier. One that was better, faster, a true dog of war. He was a brilliant man, my grandfather, but hindered by the technology of his time. Not me. Through you and the others, I’ve taken that vision to its full potential.” Her smile was smug with pride. “Just one of you, once you’ve matured, will replace ten regular soldiers. But the best thing,” she’d added with an angry edge to her tone that he hadn’t quite understood. “The best thing is that never again will a family have to mourn their fallen.”
“Easy, son,” one of the soldiers said, pulling him from his thoughts.
The man stepped forward, his palms raised to show he wasn’t a threat. “We’re here to help you.”
Was this a trick? Part of a test to see if he’d foolishly trust the word of a potential enemy? He glanced up at the camera mounted in the corner, always watching.
Narrowing his eyes, he growled another warning.
“Does this one have a name?” the man barked out to the other soldier who was holding a clipboard.
“No, sir.” The soldier flipped through some pages. “Looks like all of them just have serial numbers.”
The older man let out a quiet, gruff curse and then raised his hands to his head.
Crouching lower, he readied himself to spring at the first sign of aggression, but the soldier just pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm.
Dark hair with glints of silver cut high and tight. A stern brow over shrewd blue eyes. A nose that had been broken at least once. Thin lips set into a hyphen of displeasure, and a strong, square jaw.
He’d go for the nose first, he decided, should he have to attack.
“I’m Colonel Marshall Davies, son.” He jerked his head to indicate the man beside him. “This is Corporal O’Neil, and we’re part of a team that’s been sent here to get you out.”
It had to be a trick. Doctor Dietrich had said many times that no one knew they existed. But he was very aware of persuasion techniques. They’d been drilled into his head from the moment he could speak. This was a classic example of the carrot and the stick. A common starting point and the carrot this man was offering was freedom. He wouldn’t fall for it.
He snarled to show his derision for such an obvious ploy.
“Can you speak?”
When he didn’t answer, the man looked to the corporal. “Can he speak?”
More flipping pages. “There’s nothing in here to indicate he can’t, sir.”
With a sound of frustration and a muttered, “Give me that,” the older man yanked the clipboard from his partner’s hands and examined the top page.
“Fifteen years old?” The man looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “I have a son who’s just a year older than you.”
An attempt to find common ground. The colonel must think him stupid if the man thought he’d fall for such a weak tactic.
“High marks across the board,” the man murmured, his head nodding in approval. “Impressive.” Looking back up, he handed the clipboard off to his subordinate and squared his shoulders. “Look, son. This facility is illegal as they come. What was done to you? To the others?” The man shook his head and grimaced. “Our job is to close this place down and get you relocated. So it comes down to this. One way or another, you’re leaving here today. Now you can walk out beside me with your head held high or I can sedate your ass and have you carried out. What’s it going to be?”
