Warrior Chronicles 1: Warrior's Scar Read online

  “Okay, take me to my family.” Cort said as he handed his weapons over to the corporal.

  Three

  The Near Future

  New Mexico

  “Three years after the incident in Tulsa, his daughter was killed when his ex wife, while intoxicated, drove the car they were in over a guardrail and down the side of a small mountain. His only other family of note consists of two brothers he hasn’t had contact with in over five years.” The speaker looked around the room at the gathered scientists and leaders before continuing. “We have his medical records, and a recent pysch eval. He fits the target profile to ninety-six percent. That’s higher than any other tested person. By a significant margin. He is as close to perfect for the project as we will find.”

  An ebony skinned scientist from Lawrence Livermore spoke without raising his hand, “After what he has already given up and been through, do you really believe he will willingly participate? He seems to have extracted himself from society almost completely. While that would aid in the project, I would guess he chose that seclusion specifically to abandon the world around him.”

  “That’s exactly why we think he will take the job: He’s still the same person he was, he just doesn’t see anything on this earth that is of interest to him, Dr. Kevellen. As you can see on page nine of my report, even his personal physician says he has ‘checked out’ of society. He would rather live in another time or place. We will be offering him exactly what his dossier says he would prefer and is suited for.”

  “What about his possessions? Men don’t often give up that kind of wealth or property willingly, regardless of how they feel about society. It goes against instinct.” This time the question came from a rear admiral sitting closer to the podium.

  “Mr. Secretary, would you address that question?”

  The Secretary of the Treasury remained seated but as he turned on his microphone, all eyes turned to him. “I have an executive order from the President authorizing the Treasury to take control of all of Mr. Addison’s assets. Real estate would be placed into a federal trust; all monies owned would be placed into a trust account as well. If the United States still exists when this is all over, Mr. Addison will be well compensated and his personal wealth should have grown exponentially. One thing we cannot do, should he accept our uh, invitation, is betray him. Because quite frankly, that would be catastrophic for all parties. He will be in a position to change the world. Should the US not exist at the end of the experiment... Well then it won’t really matter, will it?” he turned off his mic, making it clear that he was done speaking, regardless of any questions the other men and women in the room might have.

  “I’d like to say something,” the new speaker was an Asian man with graying temples. “I know him. I’ve known him for over fifteen years. He won’t turn down the request. Since his daughter was killed, he has nothing to tie him here. No personal connections, no family to speak of, and no reason to stay here. That being said, I know he will take the assignment. But I cannot be the one to ask him.”

  “Why not, Director Natsumo? Since you have an established relationship with the subject, you would be the perfect man for the job,” the first speaker asked.

  “Because if he saw me get out of a vehicle on his land, he would kill me where I stood.” Looking back at his security detail who were behind a glass wall that prevented all forms of eavesdropping, he continued, “And all the security men in this building couldn’t stop him. I recommend the request be made to him by a Caucasian woman, no taller than five-four, middle-aged, short haired, and slight of build. That will get him to lower his guard long enough for him to really consider the request.”

  The speaker looked to the other side of the room “Dr. Williams, the Director of Sciences just described you quite well. Do you think you could handle the initial contact?”

  “So what you’re saying, Director, is that Mr. Addison has a thing for his mother, so I have to hold our guinea pig’s hands to get him to participate in what is possibly the single most important event in human history? No thanks, if he doesn’t want to do it, fuck him.”

  “Dr. Williams, how much money does this administration stipend to you annually?” Ben Natsumo asked. “You will lose your attitude, and you will lather Mr. Addison with honey, or you WILL be unemployed, and unemployable. You have been a pain in my ass since day one of this project, and I actually had to justify keeping you on to the President, who has long since wanted you gone. Outside of your lab very little has been asked of you, but you will do this. Am I clear?” After Dr. Williams nodded slightly and looked back down at her folder, Natsumo continued, “And for the record, I did not offer your description because you resemble his mother, or any other woman in his life. I described you because based on what I know of Mr. Addison, you are the least threatening physical presence to him with the knowledge to introduce him to the project. You are also the ideal candidate because Mr. Addison is your type. In fact, if our profile of you is accurate, you will probably be wet within two minutes of having met Mr. Addison. The chemical signals that will send him are what we are counting on. Your hormones will be off the scale, and on a basal level, Addison will pick up on that, determine you are not a threat to him, and actually listen to you instead of plan your demise.

  “He is wired differently than anyone in this room. When he walks into a new environment, he subconsciously goes through three steps. One, he determines what the threats are. That is, he decides the order in which he will kill every person in that environment if necessary. Two, he determines the method of how he will commit said kills. And three, he determines his routes of egress. Think Special Ops. Then think Special Ops with standing orders to kill indiscriminately. That’s what we are dealing with right now. To ensure the full effect, Dr.Williams, you will also meet with him in three days, during your ovulation, to help insure you don’t subconsciously try to sabotage this part of the project. Because one other thing I can tell you about Cortland Addison is that we only get one shot at this. And if you fail, the second best candidate for the project only scored seventy-six percent in our target profile. That’s failure. So don’t fuck this up. You will approach Mr. Addison in the early afternoon, in a light colored sedan with no window tinting. Your driver will be your only security, and she too should be ovulating.”

  Dr. Amy Williams was so angry and embarrassed at that moment that she didn’t even notice the looks of concern on the faces of the other people in the room. If Natsumo knew Williams’ menstrual cycle, what did he know about each of them? She did her best to conceal her emotions by starting at the beginning of Addison’s dossier again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Williams was right; this is the single most important project in human history. The sad part is, no one in this room will know for certain if the project is a success before we die. A tachyon reading will be all we get. And that will just mean it might have worked. Remember when we landed the Curiosity rover on Mars? Our odds of success are less by an order of magnitude than NASA faced for that project. The science is right. The time is right. The equipment is right. Earth’s position in relation to the rest of the solar system is right. Even the Sun’s coronal state is right. These conditions won’t be in sync again for almost three centuries. We’ve failed twice now. One last shot. That’s all we get. So yes, we have planned this right down to the day two specific women will be ovulating. Because if we didn’t, all your work was for nothing.” Looking at the still red cheeks of Dr. Williams, Natsumo continued, “Dr. Williams, like it or not, your ova are as important at this time as your brain has been throughout this endeavor.”

  Three Days Later

  Nevada County, California

  Addison flipped two switches near his front door as the cream colored sedan drove up his long, open driveway. He had been fishing minutes before, when he felt the Android device on his hip vibrate. He put down his fishing pole and swiped the screen on the device to open a video window. By the time the car had approached within one hundred
yards of the main structure, Addison had activated a motion tracking carbine and sealed the perimeter of the clearing. No one else would enter the property without him knowing and responding.

  The tall woman exiting on the driver’s side was clearly military. Her natural curves did little to hide the medium size automatic pistol on the outside of her left breast, under her open jacket. She was blonde and while clearly a threat, Cort felt more like offering her tea than assessing her threat level. The other woman was short, clearly intelligent, and also somehow appealing to him. She was the opposite of the Nordic blonde in every way. Almost mousy.

  “Mr. Addison?” the mousy one asked.

  “You are?” Addison asked. Both women’s eyes dilated slightly as he approached the vehicle, hands loose and at his side.

  “I’m Dr. Amy Williams. I’m with NASA. This is my driver, Amber Hansen. Do you have thirty minutes to spare?”

  “Miss Hansen is your bodyguard, not your driver. Don’t mislead me, Doctor. You have five minutes to talk, then you may leave. Your bodyguard will be staying with the car. You can walk with me to the lake. I need to retrieve my fishing pole.”

  The way he said then you may leave put Amber Hansen on alert. He would give them permission to leave, which meant they didn’t have permission yet. She looked around and realized she was standing in the middle of a killing field.

  --

  “My dog goes with me.” Cort said one hour later.

  After requiring the Hansen woman to leave her sidearm in the vehicle, he had invited both women into his cabin. Hansen didn’t want to give up the weapon, nor did Dr. Williams want her to, but Addison had made it clear that it was not negotiable. “If I want you dead,” he began, “all I have to do speak the words and you will die. Your weapons are less than useless in my environment. TRACK!” Both women jumped when he spoke the word so forcefully. The mechanical whine of motors heralded the opening of two sections of wall, from each of which emerged a small caliber automatic weapon that tracked the two women individually.

  “Leave your weapon, Amber,” Dr. Williams told the taller woman. “Join us inside.”

  Inside the cabin Williams responded to Cort’s demand. “Not possible. The chamber will be too small.”

  Hansen was looking around the small cabin while the two spoke. The carbines were mounted on mechanical turrets which were in opposite corners of the room, and were now facing into the building instead of out of it. There was no place, including the small bathroom in a third corner, that was not in their field of fire. The rest of the room was very homey, but small. Low ceilings, probably to retain heat, indirect natural lighting, very rustic. Only three pictures adorned the room. Addison’s late wife and daughter were in one. Another was an old black and white of a bride and groom. Probably his parents. The third picture was of Addison himself, holding the largest salmon she had ever seen. There was a small desk opposite the bathroom, with a tablet and a laptop. Next to it was a bookshelf. Only one title stood out, more for the shape of the book than anything else. Back To Basics, by Reader’s Digest. Amber remembered seeing it in her own grandfather’s house. She recalled it being a book about how to survive back in the 1800s. If this works, he’ll be able to write a book like that about this century.

  The rest of the room was what you’d expect from a hunting cabin anywhere: A small kitchen area shared a wall with the bathroom. In the middle of the outside wall next to it, was a large stone hearth. A small table and a loveseat were on the same wall as the only door to the cabin, which was in the fourth corner. The largest thing in the home was a bed that Addison clearly shared with his dog, of which there was no other sign. There were two large duffel bags near the door. Bug out kit. This is where you would bug out to, not from. He takes security very seriously.

  “It wasn’t a request. The dog goes where I go.”

  Touching the screen on the wall again, he continued. “You may leave now. You have four minutes to be off the grounds. Then the security system will identify you as a threat. Goodbye.”

  “Mr. Addison, there just simply isn’t enough room in the chamber. I have no problem with you taking your dog. But it won’t fit.”

  “Then neither will I. Good day, ladies.”

  Williams pulled out her satellite phone and began to dial. She stopped when she realized it had no signal. He’s jamming it. Just how paranoid is this guy? “May I make a phone call?” she asked.

  Touching the screen on the wall again, he said, “Your phone should work now.” As Williams began to walk outside, he said, “No. You stay here. In this room.”

  Addison seemed to be looking at his own phone while Williams spoke to someone else, presumably Director Natsumo, but Amber Hansen didn’t think he was as disinterested as he appeared. After a minute of the one sided conversation, he touched his screen and held his phone to his ear. “Sorry to interrupt, Ben, but I don’t think you understand. Dr. Williams is clearly afraid of you. I’m not. If the dog doesn’t go, I won’t. And if you sabotage the dog going, I will kill you. You want me, and I will go, but my dog goes with me. I’ll switch the call back to Dr. Williams now.”

  Williams looked at her phone as Addison put his down. A minute later, she spoke, “Your dog can come, but it will mean that some of the equipment we had planned on sending with you will have to be removed from the transport chamber. How long do you need to pack a few things?”

  Grabbing the large, yellow, Reader’s Digest book, Cort Addison opened the door and whistled while he put the book into one of the two duffels by the door. A minute later they heard the dog barking as it ran toward them. Amber Hansen expected a lab. Or maybe a shepherd, given the subject’s attention to security. She did not expect the gray wolf that appeared at the edge of the killing field as she had come to think of it. It was well over one hundred pounds and didn’t pause when it saw its master, but put itself on alert between Addison and the two women. Once Addison spoke to it, the wolf immediately relaxed and approached the women. The final humiliation for Dr. Williams was when the wolf first sniffed Amber’s crotch, then her own. I hate you, Ben Natsumo. It was not the first time that thought had crossed her mind. The pale sedan pulled off of the property ten minutes later. Amber Hansen asked, “Mr. Addison, you won’t be coming back here. I don’t think it’s wise to leave the property unattended with all that firepower. How would you like it handled?”

  “I have a nephew in… No. Never mind.” Shifting her head to see him more clearly in the rear view, Amber thought his eyes looked suddenly distant. She changed the subject. “By the way, sir, what is your, uh, pet’s name?”

  Addison was thankful for the distraction. “He is Sköll.” The wolf’s ears perked up at hearing his name. “It’s Norse. Sköll was a wolf that chased the horses which pulled the Sun Chariot across the sky. Looks like he’s finally going to get to live up to his namesake.” Scratching the dog’s head, he continued, “Doctor, I’m going to need you to arrange a property attorney for me.”

  “We have that covered, Mr. Addison.”

  --

  One Day From Event

  White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico

  “It’s funny how a layman can sometimes figure out the things we can’t,” Matt Barr commented to the people around him. “Having GPS on board was a stupid idea, as was pretty much every other piece of electronic equipment in the chamber other than life support. We only kept the astrophysics package. And it’s basically just a laptop and a camera. Everything else has been removed. That gave us a lot more room for rations and Sköll. Although Addison wants an army's worth of weapons. I can’t say that I argue his reasoning though. Medical also modified the EMT kit and software to include veterinary supplies and data for the animal.” Barr was the leader of the team that built the transport chamber. They had thought of everything from GPS to a television receiver. Addison nixed almost all of it. He wouldn’t need anything but food if things worked out right. If they didn’t, his needs would range from first aid and weaponry, to heavier weap
onry. If things went really bad, all he would need would be a way to die. And if the experiment failed, he would cease to exist at all. In every case though, the telemetry tracking equipment was useless. No one here would ever be able to study it, and if there was anyone around after a successful completion, they would already know.

  “They’re both animals, Dr. Barr. Just lab rats. Remember that.”

  Ben Natsumo spoke. “Don’t let him hear you say that, Dr. Kevellen. This particular animal is not only vital to us, but quite deadly. Where is he now, by the way?”

  --

  Sköll was very content. He was curled up on the end of the bed where his alpha and the female had just mated. The female was lazily scratching behind Sköll’s left ear and they were clearly happy. There was no threat here and he could relax. Something was about to happen, but if the alpha wasn’t concerned, neither was he.

  “What are you thinking about?” Amber asked.

  “I shouldn’t say,” Addison responded. He had been thinking that if he had met her sooner, he might have said no to the experiment. Life was funny that way. But then, she probably would have died too. The ones he loved had a habit of doing that. Maybe his world was too much for others. Angie, little Diane, so many others. It seemed the only way people he loved could be safe and happy was if he wasn’t in their lives. And then were are the deaths he himself had brought about. Then there was Sköll. He and the wolf were one.