Contract Killer

Once I watched you heal quicker than what was humanly possible, I took that initial sample, ran tests, and realized it was the missing ingredient in my serum. I have been trying for years to get the mixture right, but everything I tried wasn’t compatible with the human recipient.”

This is insanity.

“I’ve been watching over you for your whole life, keeping you under my care at all costs, because I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about your blood type. I couldn’t risk them taking you away from me or my work.”

She shook her head, not sure what to say.

“We needed the most powerful men, physically and mentally, as the recipients in order for the serum to truly work.”

She shook her head, the pain in her eyes becoming unbearable now.

“As with all experiments, we had our trials and tribulations, but once I found the missing ingredient—your rare blood type—corrected the levels and properties of the serum, and found a compatible human match, it was then that I created Adaym.” He pointed to the picture of the chained young man.

“You’re a monster,” she whispered. “So what, you plan on injecting people with this experimental drug, using them as guinea pigs as you harvest my blood? You truly are a sick man.” Disgust dripped from her voice as she stood.

“Sit down.” He all but shouted the command, and she sat, fear spiking within her at the rage reflected in his features. His face was red, and the muscles in his forearms clenched and unclenched as he made fists and relaxed them on top of the desk. “You will not undermine my breakthrough.

I have worked decades on this, and there you sit, calling me a monster when everything I am doing is to better this world.”

“Better this world?" Stupefaction laced her voice as she stared at him with disbelief. “You’re testing your drugs on innocent people, using their lives like they were nothing. I will not condone any of this. You can keep me here, but you can never make me a willing participant in your sick fantasy world.”

He suddenly became calm as he leaned back in his chair again. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Neeka. You will help me and give me what I need, or I’ll dispose of everyone and everything you hold dear.”

She covered her mouth, tears threatening to spill free.

“You don’t get it, do you? I am creating super humans. Men who can fight in war with super strength, and can be injured, but heal instantaneously. Warriors who can’t be affected by biochemical warfare weapons.” He smiled triumphantly. “I will be the most powerful man in the world. I’ve already succeeded in creating the first indestructible killing machine.”

She clenched her hands in her lap, not knowing what to do. She felt defeated as she glanced back down at the photo of the man. His dark hair was unkempt and shaggy, his eyes fierce, but not broken. His chest was bare and riddled with scars.

God, I’m so sorry they did this to you.

Who was he really? Was his name even Adaym? Did he have a family somewhere, a wife, kids? She put her head in her hands and breathed out. How would her father ever find her? She would never see him again. She couldn’t help but feel the need to cry, her anger mounting more and more.

Sorrow also filled her at the thought of the lives that would soon be used and discarded with no thought or consideration.

She didn’t doubt Dr. Rye Vincent was a genius. The very idea of men being able to heal on the battlefield would benefit many people, but the way he was going on about it was wrong. He was hurting people, keeping them as prisoners, and experimenting on them as if they were lab rats.

She knew that even though this looked like a dead end for her, she wouldn’t let herself break. She would keep fighting until she drew her last breath.

Chapter

Seven

Gage had ended up finding out the name of the man that owned the van when Neeka was abducted—Kevin Kraybold. Now he had an address to go off of, and some questions that needed answers.

He parked his SUV on the side of the street, right across from a rundown bar. On the corners were a few prostitutes, and lo and behold, the man in question was outside soliciting one of the prostitutes. Gage cut the engine and sat in the car, watching the exchange.

The woman said something to Kraybold, and then the little asshole backhanded the woman. Gage got out of the SUV before the woman’s pimp came out and kicked Kraybold’s ass. Gage needed answers first. After that he didn’t give a fuck what happened to the piece of shit.

“Hey, motherfucker,” Gage said right before he clocked Kraybold in the face. The man stumbled back, holding his nose, and blood dripping down his chin.