Page 5 of Tracking the Alpha
“What now, Captain?” huffed Gage.
“We kick it down.” Barrett took a step back and lifted his boot to smash.
Bang. He hit the panel solidly, and it didn’t budge.
“Captain, they appear to have locked us in,” Zendaya reported as she yanked the knob for the door they’d just passed through.
Penned like rats.
“They’ll have to open it at one point,” Barrett growled. “Be ready.”
No one mentioned the fact they might be facing armed military police with their bare hands. By now, they all realized they had no choice but to fight lest they become pawns in a medical experiment peppered with red flags. Surely the prime minister hadn’t approved illegal testing on soldiers? The general must have gone rogue. The outcry once his actions were revealed would be what saved Barrett and the others from being jailed and possibly dishonorably discharged. Of course, that scenario required them escaping first.
“Does anyone else hear hissing?” Slater inquired.
A swivel of Barrett’s head pinpointed the source. The vents in the ceiling, one in each corner, emitted a pale gas.
While knowing it would be useless, he still barked a command. “Cover your mouth and nose. Avoid breathing.”
The soldiers did their best to avoid inhaling the spreading fumes. However, without a properly fitted gas mask, once their lungs grew too tight, they couldn’t avoid taking a breath.
Soon as Barrett sucked in, lethargy spread rapidly through his limbs, stealing his strength. As his knees buckled, he noticed his section falling to the floor one by one. His eyelids grew heavy. Thoughts muddled. His tongue too thick to speak.
Thunk. He lost consciousness before he face-planted, but he sure as hell felt the broken nose and bruising when he woke.
Woke in a concrete chamber wearing only a thin hospital-type gown, alone but for the general’s mocking voice. “Welcome to Project Therianthrope, Patient 73.”
Chapter Two
Barrett eyed the speaker in the ceiling before staring at the mirror that he suspected was a viewing window.
“Where are the others?” he asked instead of futilely demanding his release.
“Patients 74 through 81 are in their new quarters,” General Davidson replied.
“Don’t you mean prison cells?” Barrett snarled, eyeing the austere cell. Concrete walls without a window and a single metal door lacking a handle. Forget a bed. Instead of a cot, there was a single blanket folded on the floor. No toilet, or sink either, just two buckets, one empty, one filled with water. Even animals in a zoo received better treatment.
“You want luxury then you’ll have to earn it,” Davidson stated.
“Earn basic human decency?” Barrett uttered a bitter laugh. “Fuck me, do your higher-ups know you’re a psychopath?”
“They know I am a man with vision. One who came across something incredible and immediately understood its value. They know they can trust me to make the seemingly impossible a reality.”
“Now that you’ve got me at your mercy, care to explain what that means?”
“And ruin the surprise?” mocked Davidson—a man who no longer deserved the title sir.
“You called me Patient 73. What happened the first seventy-two?”
“As with all projects, there have been wins and losses. It took us some time to perfect what we were doing.”
The sheer callousness almost stole Barrett’s voice. “So you murdered seventy-two people.”
“Not all of them died, and it wasn’t murder, but rather mercy. You see, we started out using the damaged for the experiments. Soldiers injured in the line of duty who had nothing to lose. Those strong enough to survive the treatments have us to thank for their new lease on life.”
“And what of those who died?”
“They did so honorably, serving their country.”
