Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (57 page)

The explosion afforded the ultimate human soldier to properly survey the scene. He could not locate any other victims from this vantage point but another sight started to make his blood boil. Near the ancient wreckage of the President’s desk, his longtime partner and best friend appeared to have better days. Her clothes were torn and a few light scrapes and bruises had marred her once delicate face. She was sitting on her knees and appeared to be okay otherwise but even that didn’t put her partner’s mind at ease.

Rage began to swell in Michael’s mind. He had not experienced this feeling in ages. Controlling anger was one of the many things he learned after the Hunt’s completion but seeing what Myung-Ho had done sent the ultimate human soldier’s mind into a rampage. Meryl may have been completely out of her league in dealing with these chemically-enhanced freaks but knowing her, she probably still put up a resistance. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have bothered roughing her up.

Renewed adrenaline coursed through Michael’s battered frame. The nerves in his body no longer cried out for attention. Numbness diluted the pain of prior injuries. Everything went silent except for his mind which was focused on one goal. Now all he needed to do was find out where he was hiding.

Hard coughs exited Bahn’s throat. He pulled himself up from the decimated desk and walked over towards the door not caring about anything or anyone other than identifying who was responsible for this grand entrance. Upon final inspection, Bahn was nowhere near amused.

This couldn’t have been the doctor’s work. Bahn was told his additional troops would be former soldiers of the People’s Army. This man was anything but. His attire, though odd, was not military issue of any nation save for perhaps the boots and pants. He looked like he’d just been through a war himself but carried no other distinguishing features of being a soldier or law enforcement. Wherever this man may belong was irrelevant at this point. He was just another target that stood between Bahn and his glorious conquest.

“Stand up!” He shouted towards his fallen soldiers.

It was already bad enough he suffered the humiliation of being caught off guard but with his entire army in disarray, it made him look even more foolish. There was no way he was going to let that man’s last memories bear witness to the People’s Army at their lowest point in this soon to be takeover and subjugation of his former homeland of America.

The soldiers began to slowly rise to their feet. Their injuries may have been minor but the blast itself was enough to put them down even for only a few moments. They shouldn’t have any problems tearing this intruder apart. He looked as if he could barely stand let alone face the might of five enhanced soldiers. His final order to his men cemented that thought.

“Bring me his head.”

Judging by the words spoken by the apparent leader, Michael knew he was in the right place. It proved difficult to focus with so much fury brewing inside of his steeled mind. He could barely see past the group of soldiers charging in towards his position. Perhaps it was time to teach these people a lesson in humility. Michael took a step forward in order to meet his attackers and show them just what the ultimate human soldier is capable of.

The first soldier darted forward and launched a huge haymaker which Michael easily telegraphed and avoided with a short duck. Judging by the speed and strength of the swing, these men must have also ingested the God-Slayer pill. It didn’t matter to Michael nor did it offer them any distinct advantage. He would dispose of them the same way he finished off Ryoo Myung-Dae.

The former FBI agent rocketed his fist into the first soldier’s ribcage and felt the bones shatter against the force of his knuckles. A blood curdling roar immediately follow as Michael forced the air out of his lungs and forced his ribs into the empty space it once resided. The ultimate human soldier pulled back, cocking his right fist and shattered the soldier’s jaw with a straight cross. Michael caught his face using the same hand that had devastated it prior and dragged him skull first into the west wall of the hallway. The soldier’s body dangled by his snapped neck as the rest of his head disappeared into the newly created hole.

Michael slowly pulled his arm out of the wall. Breaking their necks was the only sure fire way to eliminate these threats. It worked for Ryoo Myung-Dae and it obviously worked for his first victim. God-Slayer had shown phenomenal regeneration capabilities. It could restore even a damaged heart after immediate destruction. The only way to cut that off was right at the source. If the mind was still functioning then there was still hope to send the cells signals to regenerate. Breaking the spine sealed off the brain from the vital fluids it needed to continue relaying those messages. One had already been instantly silenced. The rest would soon know their place. Even after murdering one right before their eyes in less than a second, they continued to foolishly charge ahead with the firm belief that they wouldn’t share the same fate.

The next opponent moved in and planted his foot on the ground as he readied his attack. Michael theorized it would be a kick of some kind but thought it best to answer with one of his own. The former FBI agent lifted his right leg and stomped on the second’s knee. Bone and cartilage rattled and snapped within the confines of his skin as the soldier howled in horror. The noise was annoying enough even for the half second that it currently existed to warrant the ultimate human soldier to deliver and thunderous knee strike into his foe’s abdomen silencing him for good. Michael then slammed his boot down heel first on top of the victim’s foot to hold him in place for what was to come. He grabbed the soldier’s face and drilled his skull backwards into the ground. The top of his head had cracked the floorboards with his neck gently resting on the heel of the foot that Michael held in place with his own. The sweet sound of spine snapping tickled Michael’s ears after he forced this pitiful foe to bend his back in the opposite direction.

Two men had perished between relatively short breaths. Michael was too determined to let some unskilled genetically enhanced wastes of life try and stop him. The third ran and leapt with his feet flying forward in some vaguely disguised dropkick. Michael caught his ankle in midflight, jerked him back and then slammed him head first into the ground. The wall shook as the force of the blast nearly drove him through the foundation of the White House. That familiar bone crunching sound must have been lost in the scuffle because Michael proceeded to swing and crash the soldier’s body back and forth between the walls and ground until his lifeless body danced in the air at his command. Michael released the ankle from his grip and tossed the third foe aside. With only two more of these stooges left, the final prize was at hand. It was time for Michael to stop screwing around.

The fourth was all the way by the Oval Office entrance and the fifth stood behind him in the doorway. The lead soldier charged in as Michael procured a flashbang from his coat pocket. He hurled the grenade at speeds that nearly shattered the sound barrier and plunged the metal cylinder into the fourth’s eye socket. The soldier howled in terror as the grenade embedded itself into his skull. The few seconds of his anguish and suffering grew even more horrifying as the flashbang detonated filling the West Wing in a violent white light, and carving out a chunk of his skull to paint the once clean white walls.

An explosion of shots rang out in quick succession. Michael had made all fourteen rounds from both of his Desert Eagle pistols sound like it was rifled from a fully automatic weapon. Each of his bullets had chipped away at the fourth’s neck until it severed it clean off. The former FBI agent didn’t have to wait for the grenade’s effects to subside. His glasses had been designed to absorb the blast of light, freeing him from its effects and allowing him to use flashbangs in any situation imaginable.

Natural light soon returned to the West Wing. The fourth’s body slumped to the ground. Blood flowed from the gaping hole where his neck once stood. Michael holstered both of his pistols now that they had exhausted their current magazine’s worth of ammunition. All targets in range had been vanquished. Only one stooge was left amongst their beaten comrades.

Michael surveyed the hallway. The fifth and final soldier must have taken cover somewhere while his companion was being decapitated by over a dozen fifty-caliber bullets. His hiding spot was not far away. The ultimate human soldier could hear the panting breaths as if they were right behind his ears. The grenade’s effects must still be jarring his opponent’s senses otherwise he wouldn’t be breathing that loudly if he could hear himself. Michael tracked him down easily. He took up a position in the office, perhaps behind the curve of the room and well hidden from the hallways peripheral vision but not from the ultimate human soldier’s enhanced senses.

Steps slowly echoed into the hallway. Michael took his time getting to the office. He stalked his prey forcing the last few seconds of their miserable existence to be filled with terror and dread. With each step he took he could feel the fifth soldier’s nerves rattling against the wall. He was scared and out of his element. Four of his fellow companions had tried and failed miserably. They’re bodies were still warm in the pathway of destruction Michael had left behind and he was the last course on the menu. It was enough to cause anyone to panic. Just because you had super strength, reflexes, durability, and senses didn’t mean you couldn’t still be afraid. That’s what Michael counted on when he stopped just short of the entrance and took a deep breath.

A hand broke through the wall and seized the final soldier by the neck. He choked and gasped for even a taste of air but Michael’s grip had him sealed tighter than an industrial titanium vice. The former FBI agent continued to squeeze as the soldier cried and squirmed in his hand. Michael could feel his foe’s spine crack as his grip tightened. The closer he got, the more the soldier flailed like a fish out of water. Michael allowed him one final second of torture before giving the next one last mighty squeeze and feeling the bones being ground to dust within his fingers.

The body dropped and slumped into a lifeless heap inside the office. Michael ripped his arm back through the wall as he slowly entered the room. The adrenaline was starting to subside within his system. He looked upon the carnage that had been wrought inside the President’s office. The two confirmed dead plus an unconscious female alongside two more that appeared to be conscious but no sign of Ryoo Myung-Ho. All of it seemed pass by in a blur as he locked eyes with Meryl and raced towards her kneeling position.

“Meryl!” He cried out as he grabbed his partner by the shoulders.

She appeared to be in a catatonic state of some sort. Perhaps the shock of what had just occurred in here rattled her senses a bit or maybe even the flashbang’s effects hadn’t fully subsided. Michael continued to shout her name as he gradually rocked her back and forth within his grip. The desperation in his voice grew with every shout but he could feel it paying off as her lips began to tremble and the softness of her voice was finally heard.

“Michael?” She whispered.

It was as if she hadn’t fully realized what has happened or what was going on. He continued his surveillance by checking her pulse and scanning for any outside injuries. Thankfully, he didn’t find any other than the initial scrapes and bruises.

The former FBI agent’s nerves began to settle but he continued to worry about his partner’s wellbeing. He held her close and calmly whispered.

“Snap out of it Meryl. Everything is fine.”

Those words must have resonated in the right cord because she was finally able to shake off the lingering psychological effects of the demolition that followed and pieced together everything that had just occurred.

“What happened? What –”

She stopped herself after eying the carnage of the hallway.

“Michael?!” Her wit had returned just as quickly as her senses. “Did you? How?”

“Where is Ryoo Myung-Ho?” Michael asked.

“Who?”

He must have been going by another alias.

“The last one in the room with you. Where did he go?”

Michael frustration rose once more but not with Meryl’s lack of intel but rather, the fact that he wasn’t able to finish the job like the rest of his companions.

Meryl didn’t say anything. She slowly turned her head towards the southern window that had been completely smashed and ripped apart. Ryoo must have taken his leave as soon as the flashbang went off. Finding out why proved even more perplexing until his sullen companion spoke once more.

“He took him.”

“What?!” Michael snapped. “Who?”

“The President,” she said in almost a whimper. “He grabbed him and ran.”

Meryl’s statements soon turned to one of defense as she continued.

“I tried to stop him. Tried to save him but I couldn’t –”

“Meryl,” said Michael.

His voice became as soft as his grip upon his partner’s tender frame.

“Are you okay?”

He could see her delicate brown eyes turn glossy but no tears slide down her cheeks. Michael peered into her soul and found the answer he needed even though she gave a short nod to confirm that everything was fine now that he had arrived.

Michael drew on of his pistols from the holster and loaded a fresh magazine into the chamber. He placed it gently in Meryl’s lap.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “If anyone else comes through that door that you don’t recognize, shoot to kill.”