An ill-gained promotion…
Brigadier General James Lore drew in a calming breath before he knocked on the general’s door. Now was not the time to lose his cool. Not when his plans were moving along so swimmingly.
“Come,” was the short bark ordered from the other side of the door.
He gnashed his teeth at the order. There were few over his head… and hopefully, he’d get one more obstacle out of his way.
The blinds were drawn down to hide the setting sun that still managed to creep in through the wooden slats. Major General Harding sat behind his large, cherry desk, fingers steepled as he stared at Lore. James saluted his commanding officer.
“Have a seat.”
“Yes, sir,” Lore spat, the words like bile on his tongue.
“Can you explain to me what happened today?”
Lore drew in a slight breath. “Our convoy was attacked. They had help we didn’t expect. The smoke dragon…”
“You were tasked with moving those children to the base in Texas. You knew the dragons might be in play and yet you didn’t plan accordingly. You failed in your mission.”
Lore fought the predatory smile rising to his lips. “I warned you the shifters would find out. They took our hackers… for what point? To get into our system. I warned you that it was too dangerous to move any of the subjects. I suggested we hunker down in place and defend our position. Add security measures and fight them on our own ground.”
Harding was silent a moment. “So that’s your play.”
Lore frowned, confused by the general’s comment. “My play?”
“You want to make me look incompetent. Tell me, did you even bother to put a large enough detail on the convoy? Those shifters moved in like a hot knife to butter. They made you look incompetent… not I.”
Lore again fought the smile fighting its way to his lips. “Sir, we placed four different potential routes in the system, trying to break up the shifter army into smaller, containable units. I hoped that would give us the chance we needed to battle any attack. Unfortunately, they somehow figured out which route was the correct one. They hit us full force… with the smoke dragon healed.”
“That dragon was under your care for several years,” a deep, accented voice rang out from the corner.
Lore turned to see they weren’t alone. The darkness of the room and his sole focus to see Harding had apparently put blinders on him. He lifted his chin, his stare washing over the unfamiliar man’s face. “And you are?”
The man didn’t answer. Instead, he continued on with his comments, his Texas twang unmistakable. “All those years your smoke dragon was in your care and unable to heal himself… molten metal poured over his back, melting the skin and muscle underneath. In a matter of days, they were able to heal him. That should’ve been impossible.”
Lore didn’t answer. Project Zed was top secret. He didn’t know this man… or his credentials. The man was young… perhaps in his mid to late thirties… dressed in a tailored suit, not a uniform. Lore turned to Harding…
“Meet Burton Cromwell the third,” Harding said, lifting a hand toward the younger man.
“As in Cromwell Pharmaceuticals?” Lore asked as he lifted one speculative brow.
“One and the same,” the young man said with a smile.
“And how does a civilian have knowledge of a top-secret, military project?” Lore asked.
“Oh, come now. Are you really going to tell me you believe this project is solely funded by the military?” Burton asked. “Cromwell Pharmaceuticals has been working hand in hand with the government since the inception of this project. I—and my father—both sit on the board that oversees this top-secret, military project.”
“A board?” Lore asked.
“Yes. And we’re not pleased with the loss of millions upon millions of dollars in research and technology going up in smoke in a matter of minutes. The loss of those assets isn’t something the board will allow. So, General Lore… just what do you plan to do in order to get them back?”
“I don’t,” Lore said.
Burton Cromwell the third walked a little closer and stopped a few inches before him. Lore could smell the expensive cologne wafting off the man. It made his nose itch. “You don’t?”
“I don’t. Or rather, I am awaiting further details to come from the children themselves,” Lore said.
The man looked slightly amused.
“We created those children to be weapons. Granted, the switch wasn’t supposed to be thrown until they had reached maturity… but I thought this was an opportune time to see our work in action.”
Burton Cromwell smiled. “Did you have to give over the whole kit and caboodle? Wouldn’t a handful of them have sufficed?”
“The shifter army has just built themselves a facility—one that appears large enough to house our prisoners. Now that it’s nearing completion, I fear they’ll launch a larger scale attack. If they were able to attack any of our bases… free the beasts within… and then turn our own weapons against us… the project could be doomed. If that facility is destroyed… it’ll be a setback they’ll struggle to overcome. If our little weapons take out enough of their key players… it could end this fight completely.”
Cromwell stared, his smile never fading. “But surely, if this shifter army can hack our system, they can find information on the children. They’ll know those little shifters are dangerous. Your move could backfire.”
“I had the system wiped of all data on the children,” Lore said.
“Any smart man knows that nothing is truly deleted,” the young man said. “And they’ve got your best two hackers.”
“Searching for that information will take time. Piecing the fragments of the deleted information will take even more time. Once they get the information, it will be too late,” Lore said. “Even animals care for their young. The shifters might be leery at first, but they’re hardwired to care for their young. They won’t see it coming… and when their world comes crashing down… we’ll swoop in and end this problem for good. If there are any assets left standing, we take them with us—”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions,” General Harding said, interrupting. “What if they figure out the children are weapons? We lose all the way around.”
“And just what do you think they’ll do? Murder four dozen children?” Lore asked. “They won’t do that… they want to save all the creatures they take from us.”
“They’re savages. I wouldn’t put murdering a child past them,” Harding blasted.
“No. Lore’s right.” Cromwell turned to Harding. “I like this plan.”
“You can’t be serious,” Harding said.
“Oh… quite serious,” Cromwell answered. “General Lore… move forward with this.” He drew a card from his breast pocket. “You can contact me here. Keep me appraised off the situation… directly.”
Jumping right over Harding to the board. Lore smiled as he took the heavy card stock in hand. Before he could comment, his commanding officer jumped in.
“The board won’t agree to this,” Harding spat. “They want the children back in one piece. All of them.”
Cromwell chuckled. “We can make more.”
Harding glared at the younger man. “And wait another eighteen years for them to mature?”
“One of our doctors has been working on a growth serum… well, it was actually supposed to be for male incompetence, but the quick aging side effect forced us to redirect our course of action. Thanks to an ingenious mistake, we could potentially get specimens ready for active duty in the matter of a few years versus two decades. More testing would be required, of course, but we’re quite confident we could amass a fighting force in no time at all.”
“Fine… but what if this plan of Lore’s backfires? What if they end up sending out these children into human populations? The board needs to convene and discuss all the potential disasters this could cause.”
“Why would they even consider releasing children into human populations?” Lore asked, incredulous. “They want to protect their own… and a child, at that? They won’t be sending these kids anywhere near the human world.”
“There are other potential problems,” Harding spat. “The board—”
A blast from a gun sounded to Lore’s left. He watched, wide-eyed, as a dark patch spread onto Harding’s uniform surrounding a small bullet-sized hole. Another shot rang out, and another hole formed in the middle of Harding’s forehead. Lore blinked, frozen with a myriad of emotions rushing through him.
He hated Harding. Had for some time. But the man was also his commanding officer—and this rich, young hothead had just blown two holes into his CO. He eyed the blue/black of the gun in Cromwell’s hand and for a brief instant, he considered tackling the guy for the weapon.
Seconds ticked by in slow motion…
No one rushed into the office after hearing gunfire. It was utterly silent but for the ringing in his ears.
Cromwell was rich and powerful enough—at least the senior Cromwell was—that the murder of Major General Christopher Harding wouldn’t even be a blip on anyone’s radar. The fact this kid could wipe a high-ranking officer off the face of the map without batting an eye should’ve scared him shitless. Yet it didn’t. All he could think of was Harding’s death meant he was likely getting a promotion.
Major General James Lore had a nice ring to it.
A half-smile played over his lips as he stared at Harding’s corpse. The man’s body was slowly sliding from the desk chair.
Cromwell turned, tucking the gun into his jacket pocket. He smiled wanly at Lore. “Move forward with your plan, Major General. I’ll expect bi-weekly updates I can share with the board.”
A move up the ladder, it is. He tried to hide his smile. “Of course, Mr. Cromwell.”
Cromwell smiled. “Call me Burton.”
Lore nodded. “Of course, Burton.”
Burton smiled. “We needed a man of true action running this operation. My father suspected you were the right man for the job. I see he was absolutely correct in his observations.”
“I’ve never met your father.”
“Yet he knows you inside and out, General. There’s not a move you’ve made that he hasn’t seen.”
Lore felt his stomach knot at that.
“Don’t worry, General. My father’s a fan.” Burton turned back to Harding’s body. “I’ve got a team waiting outside to help escort General Harding home.”
“Home?”
Burton smiled. “Well, he won’t arrive. I hear he’s had a bit too much to drink this evening and will be having a tragic accident on the way.” He turned and pointed to the door. “You don’t need to be here when my men arrive.”
“Of course,” Lore said as he gave Harding one last look. He headed for the door and kept on going, putting as much distance between him and the crime scene as he could. The smile that had been fighting its way out finally spread across his lips, unfettered.
Major General James Lore.