Anaz-Voohri (23 page)

“I fear I may not be up to the task, General. I can’t really see myself as a black ops agent, even in an office." The truth
be
told, after years of soldiering, Zack couldn’t imagine himself in any office at all.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Captain. Some of the greatest minds operated from a wheelchair.”

Zack shrugged and winced at the sharp pain in his shoulders. “I know. President Roosevelt and the scientific genius Stephen Hawking spoiled it for every other disable, didn’t they? In what country is ORION based?”

“It’s top secret, on a need to know basis.”

“Of course... Secrets upon secrets, like in the old days. You Washington guys love that kind of stuff, don’t you?”

“Whenever you make up your mind, let me know." The General rose and offered his hand.

Zack considered it a few seconds before shaking it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The General smiled briefly. “I know you’ll do the right thing, Captain." He marched out of the room and closed the door behind him.

The right thing?
Wasn’t it enough that Zack had lost everything, including the woman he loved? They dared ask him to do the right thing? What a bunch of users.

The more he thought about the proposition, however, the more Zack dared to hope. Maybe he would get to meet Tia one last time if he worked in the highest circles. And he wanted to know what happened to his sister Ashley. He’d not heard anything since that strange encounter three years ago on a mountaintop in Afghanistan. He’d promised to save her, and although she refused his help, he knew that deep down she still counted on him.

That night, after hours of internal debate, Zack made the call to the General. “As soon as I get out of this hospital, I’m your man.”

*****

Two days later, as Zack turned on the morning news on his room’s plasma
TV,
he spilled his orange juice when his sister’s face filled the screen. The anchorman’s voice droned on.

“The dead teenager found in the woods last night near a VA hospital in Virginia was identified as Ashley Duncan, one of the twelve little girls abducted from their beds seven years ago. The cause of death is still unclear. The police offer no comments other than the FBI took over the investigation.”

It couldn’t be. Zack would have felt it if Ashley had died. But the face of the dead girl, pale and calm in death, left no doubt about her identity. It was Ashley as he’d seen her on the top of that God-forsaken mountain. Tears flowed freely into his hospital food tray as he sobbed.

Why had they killed Ashley? Just as Zack thought things would get better, someone bashed him on the head. He remembered the last words he’d heard from his sister,
Give up the fight or I will die and you will die
. And Zack had just accepted a post in ORION. If he’d given up, refused the offer, Ashley might still be alive. Guilt gnawed at his soul for prompting his baby sister’s death. The Anaz-voohri had delivered on their threat and dropped Ashley’s body at his doorstep. The last warning before they killed him.

His vision blurred and he couldn’t hear the TV anchor anymore. Now Zack had lost everything, the use of his legs, Tia, and now Ashley. The thought of climbing into that wheelchair and raiding the drug cabinet to end his life once and for all crossed his mind, but something stayed his impulse. A few weeks ago, Zack would have used Ashley’s death as one more reason to commit suicide, but not today. Besides, the Anaz-voohri would kill him soon enough.

With his returning strength and relative mobility, Zack could do more than wait for death. If the Anaz-voohri expected him to surrender to fear, Zack wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He wanted revenge and would unleash his anger against those who killed the innocent. He’d dedicate his few remaining years to fighting the Anaz-voohri scourge.

But how had they known that Zack had accepted to work for ORION? How deep did the hybrid conspiracy infiltrate the levels of government? Having nothing more to lose, Zack was determined to find out.

Chapter Sixteen

Late 2010, ORION Headquarters, New York

On the computer attached to his wheelchair, Zack uploaded the updated hybrid profile sheet into ORION’s secret database. Then he sent a series of emails to various organizations through their websites.

Since the hybrid scare had finally reached the public at large a few days ago, paranoia had settled in. By releasing new information on how to detect hybrids, Zack hoped zealous citizens would spy upon their neighbors and report back through the system. ORION could then trace suspicious behavior, in hopes of discerning patterns and locating pockets of hybrid activity.

At the sound of the automatic door, Zack glanced up.

Colonel Jason Carrick, an Aryan-looking man in his thirties, marched into Zack’s windowless office, an enigmatic smile on his close-shaven face. “Aren’t you claustrophobic, working in such a small space?" He said with a distinct southern drawl.

“Nowadays, I see the universe through a computer screen." Zack saved his files then rotated his electronic chair to devote his full attention to his new friend.
“Back from Washington already?"

“I am a model of fucking efficiency,” Carrick looked tanned even under the fluorescent lights. “I just met the girl of my dreams." He dropped into a chair, across from Zack’s desk.

Surprised, Zack had never seen him so excited. “We are not supposed to have time for girls, Colonel. We have a planet to save.”

“Exactly."
Unruffled, Carrick smoothed his neat blond hair. “But this girl is special. I’m going to marry her and she will make me the most envied man in the United States.”

Zack never picked Carrick for a ladies man, despite his good looks and natural charm. “What is she, a movie star or something?"

“Much better than that."
Carrick’s icy blue gaze remained unreadable.

“Well? Spill it, man." Zack’s shoulders ached, and he had no patience for games.

“I’ll give you two hints." Carrick held up one finger. “One, her name is Tierney, and two, she will soon live in the White House.”

Bemused, Zack whistled. “Tierney Grant, the daughter of Senator Grant, the Presidential candidate? But she is only what, fifteen?”

“Unlike you, I am a patient man." Carrick straightened the crease of his impeccable pants. “She is adorable and very aware of her charms for her age. There was definitely a spark between us.”

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea." The vision of the two together made Zack uncomfortable. “She’s underage. Grant will have your hide if you ever touch her.”

“What do you take me for?" Carrick looked offended. “My intentions are honorable. I do not intend to touch her before our wedding night a few years from now.” His face relaxed. “Anyway, I rallied Senator Grant’s full support to vote for a systematic hybrid search in the US, by whatever means at our disposal.”

“Congratulations. Apparently no one is immune to your persuasion." Zack hoped his cynicism didn’t show. “I offered some rewards online for information leading to arrests. We should start getting reports soon. But I fear most of these leads will be false alarms.”

“That’s a start." Carrick’s gaze scanned the bare white walls. “The more we learn about that vermin, the better we are.”

“We don’t have much to work with. All we know about hybrids is that they have superhuman stamina. Even the bodies the government dissected didn’t tell us anything more. They look entirely human, even inside.”

“Well, my friend,” Carrick looked smug. “As it happens, we may have found a way to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“Really?"
That was their first break since Zack started working for ORION.
“How?”

“Some rich industrial biologist just took an interest in our cause, and he’s a good friend of Senator Grant." Carrick paused as if for emphasis. “Lawson Archer’s the name, and he is perfecting a reliable DNA test.”

“Reliable?”

“About ninety percent.
Ten percent of the tests may prove inconclusive.”

“Did you say Archer?" The name sounded familiar, from long ago in Zack’s first desperate search for information on the Anaz-voohri. “Isn’t he the son of a rich industrial whose granddaughter was abducted at the same time as Ashley?”

“Bingo." Carrick smiled proudly. “That was Archer’s niece. That’s why he is so eager to help us now. So, from now on, when anyone reports a suspected hybrid, all we have to do is send a DNA sample, and within three months Archer will tell us whether that person is human or hybrid.”

“Awesome." Finally Zack saw some headway. “But much can happen in three months. How will that work?”

“We secretly obtain DNA samples of every single suspect. If and when we get positive results, we dispatch a team to terminate the hybrid.
Neat and simple.”

Something still bothered Zack.
“What about the ten percent whose tests come back inconclusive?”

Carrick emitted a loud sigh. “I’m afraid they’ll just have to die as well. We can’t take any chances.”

Zack couldn’t condone such a primitive witch hunt. “We can’t just kill innocents.”

“Why not?"
Carrick’s expression hardened. “Do you suggest we release potential hybrids and give them free clearance? That would be disastrous.”

Zack shook his head. “I hope they perfect the test, soon." He couldn’t bear forfeiting innocent lives.

“Or would you rather let the mobs lynch anyone without any proof, like last week in Paris?”

Zack had no answer to that. “Even with all my problems, I wouldn’t want to be a suspected hybrid right now.”

“This test is our only hope against their evil, Zack." Carrick leaned over the desk. “We need to take extreme measures to eliminate that scum.”

“I know." Zack hesitated in the light of his friend’s strong convictions. “But it could also be interpreted as genocide. The press will have a field day.”

Carrick sprung off his chair. “The press will never know about that ten percent. As far as the public is concerned, the DNA test is fail-proof, period." He paced the small office then planted himself in front of Zack. “Are you taking their side? Are you a fucking hybrid lover?”

“Hey, cool off, man." Zack berated himself for his blunt remark. “I’m just concerned about how it looks, that’s all.”

Carrick resumed pacing, hands behind his back. “We are talking about the survival of the human race, here.”

“Sorry. I can’t help but think about my sister. How would she rate, human or hybrid?" Zack sighed. “Did you tell Archer that his niece is probably a hybrid by now?”

“I didn’t, but I’m sure it crossed his mind." Carrick loosened his tie a bit.

“Sorry, man." Zack made his voice conciliatory, something he’d done often since his reinsertion into society. “I wouldn’t want those thousands of lives on my conscience. Those are mothers, sons, and daughters, most of them victims, like my sister.”

“These are not people but fucking mutants!" Carrick pummeled the desk, making the electronic devices on it jump slightly. “They may look like us, but they want us dead. They are the enemy and this is war. War is never pretty, my friend.”

Zack remembered how Tia spoke about getting rid of the terrorist scum, and Zack hated the Anaz-voohri more than anything. But hunting humans on the account of their genetic makeup gave him pause. “They didn’t choose to be hybrids, you know?”

“Fuck!" Carrick clenched his fists but stopped short of slugging Zack. “I didn’t choose to be human either, but I happen to be partial to the human race. As a matter of fact, I think anyone working for any government agency should be tested." He shrugged. “But we don’t have the resources to do a systematic testing, yet.”

“And good luck breaking the Privacy Act."
Zack almost enjoyed antagonizing his friend. “People don’t trust the government with their DNA samples, and I can’t blame them.”

“That’s what the Senator said, too." Carrick’s face relaxed suddenly. “In any case, I think you work too much, my friend. You look pale. Why don’t you ever get out, relax? You seem to have finished here. Want to go for drinks?”

Zack shook his head slowly. “You go ahead. I’m not in the mood. Besides, I can’t drink with all the drugs I’m taking." The truth be told, Zack didn’t want to expose himself to the stares of wholesome people in a public place. He’d learned much about discrimination and the stigma attached to the wheelchair, even a cool one, since his return to the functioning world.

“Stop being a pessimist. I don’t drink either. But it’s important to expand your horizon, my friend. You have to make some connections, think about your future. I, for one, have big dreams.”

“Oh yeah?
Like what?" Zack couldn’t suppress the bitterness in his tone.

“One day, I’ll be the General in charge of the international secret police." Carrick waited for a reaction and when Zack remained silent, he went on. “I’ll know everything there is to know about anyone and I’ll be the most powerful man on this planet. What about you?”