Abomination (35 page)

“You’re thinking you can beat this by using the same
system that sent you to kill me? I wish I could see the positive results as
clearly as you. And don’t tell me to trust you on this one.”

“Okay, I won’t,” said Ryan. “But I know you do. I know
you’ve got to be tired of running. I’ve only been doing it for a few days and
I’m ready to stop. We accomplished what we set out to do. Maybe not in the way
you thought of a few months ago, but Didache is dead. No one else is going to
get hurt. Let’s go put the spotlight on the deputy director and watch that
prick dance.”

“I’ll tell you right now, I’m going to regret this in
the morning,” said Derek.

“You mean in a few hours,” observed Tom.

“Let’s try to get a little sleep,” said Ryan. “We’re all
going to need it.”

Nobody slept.

Each spent the hours looking back at the past few
months, but from different angles. Tom was worried it was the end of the team
and the end of the only family he knew. Michelle had already made up her mind
it was her last assignment in the field. When Kristina was killed, she not only
lost a witness under her protection, but a rare friendship. Dallas worried
about his boss. He had an uneasy feeling the man he greatly respected had crossed
a line, changing him forever. Derek imagined himself sitting on a beach with
his arm around the only person in the universe who mattered.

Ryan simply wanted it to be over. He wanted everyone
involved who had survived to be shielded from the consequences of his actions.
The veteran agent was prepared to shoulder the blame for every move made
outside of the law. He knew he’d face criminal charges for going off the grid
and killing the men responsible without due process. What worried him the most
was that he didn’t care.

Dawn was breaking, signaling the continuation of a long
day which seemingly had started weeks earlier. Ryan went over the details of
his final plan and relayed his last orders to the team. If it all fell apart,
Michelle and Tom would be waiting close by to cover Derek’s escape while Ryan
covered theirs. But in the back of his mind, he really wasn’t worried about a
shootout with federal agents. Derek’s speed would put him out of harm’s way
before anyone could put cuffs on him.

A sedan pulled up to the hangar, and one of Steve’s men
approached Ryan, carrying a garment bag. Inside was a pressed Marine uniform
complete with a duty belt and service pistol. Derek wanted to be in his dress
blues when he turned himself in to the feds.

Not much was said when Ryan and Derek were dropped off
at the marble stairs of the Federal Building. They calmly walked inside and
passed through the security checkpoint with no interference from the posted
guards. They took the elevator to the third floor and stopped at the door with
the large brass nameplate. Ryan put his hand on the knob leading to the office
of Special Agent in Charge (SAC) Gregory Archer.

They walked in to see Archer standing beside his
secretary’s desk in the waiting room. “Well, look what the cat drug in,” said
Archer in a slight southern accent. “Good Lord, Ryan. How long has it been?”

“About two years, sir.”

“Two years? Really? Time slips by me faster and faster every
day. I would’ve sworn on a stack of Bibles you left this office no longer than
two months ago, let alone two years.”

“It is getting harder to keep track,” said Ryan, holding
out his arm to bring Derek closer. “Sir, I’d like you meet a friend of mine.
This is Captain Derek Mathews.”

“An honor to meet you, sir,” said Derek.

“Honor is mine, son,” replied Archer, gripping Derek’s
hand. “I was Navy, so I hold a special place in my heart for Marines. Which
unit are you with?”

“The 2
^nd
Marine Special Ops Battalion out of
Camp Lejeune.”

“A fine unit,” said Archer. “So, what brings a Special
Agent from Virginia and a Marine from North Carolina to my front door?”

“Sir, may we speak in private?” asked Ryan.

“Absolutely. My morning brief doesn’t start for another
half hour. Will my office do?”

“Yes, sir,” said Ryan with a smile. “It will.”

As they entered the office, both Ryan and Derek took a
deep breath before making themselves comfortable in the chairs opposite Archer.
Ryan had been in the same seat in the office several times in the past. His
eyes gravitated to a framed photo of Deputy Director Donaldson shaking Archer’s
hand during an award ceremony. He was hoping Derek didn’t notice the picture.

 “How’s DC treating you, Ryan?” asked Archer with the first
round of small talk.

“The traffic is ridiculous, but I don’t spend much time
in the city.”

“That’s right,” said Archer, remembering the new
assignment, “You’re with a fugitive recovery unit.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ryan. “It’s why I’m here. I don’t mean
to be rude, but Derek and I are working under the gun. We don’t have very much
time.”

“Okay,” said Archer. “Am I to assume you’re not here to
catch up on old times?”

“That would be correct. I’m here because I trust you,
and I also need your help.”

“You have my attention.”

“I’ve been on assignment for the past three months under
orders from Deputy Director Donaldson,” stated Ryan. “Those orders were to hunt
down and recover four Marines who went UA from their post. The four Marines are
Peter Arrington, Joshua Bell, Richard Elliot, and the man sitting beside me.
They were there as volunteers for a classified research initiative identified
as ‘The Didache Project’.

“They were basically human test subjects for genetic
therapy. I won’t even begin to try to explain the science behind the project,
but I’m in contact with three young men who can. They can be here in thirty
minutes if you decide not to lock me up in a mental hospital.”

“Let me help you cut to the chase, Ryan,” said Archer.
“Why did you bring Derek here, and what are you asking of me?”

“Yes, sir. Derek is here to show you the results of the
genetic therapy. I couldn’t see you believing my story if I didn’t bring him.
What I’m asking of you is to bring in the Special Counsel for your office so we
can give a sworn statement.”

“I don’t have to remind you of FBI protocol regarding
affidavits, Agent Pearson. That can happen anywhere. Why did you feel the need
to sneak up on me with this? I need you to drop the cryptic shit and tell me
why you’re here.”

“Like I told you, sir,” said Ryan, “I’m on assignment
from the deputy director, and I believe it was his intention for me to bring in
these four fugitives dead instead of alive. I also believe he’s responsible for
the murder of a witness who was under my protection.”

“I believe the cheese has just slipped off your cracker,
son,” said Archer. “Agent Pearson, tread lightly. I’ve known Boyd Donaldson for
twenty-five years. I argue there isn’t another man with his level of integrity
and honor in this Bureau. Whatever you think he’s done or said, I can assure
you there’s a legitimate explanation.”

“I very much wish that to be true, but I almost killed
this man sitting beside me thinking he was a violent fugitive,” said Ryan,
holding his ground. “He’s not a fugitive, sir. He’s a victim.”

“You have an impressive service record,” said Archer.
“But this behavior and what you’re telling me is flat out baffling. The only
thing keeping me from picking up the phone and having you thrown in a cell are
those years of dedicated service. I’ve always thought of you as a good man,
Ryan. That’s going to buy you about one hour with my Special Counsel, but
that’s just to get this insane accusation on the record to cover my ass. I have
a very strong feeling you just fucked up.”

“What happens to me after this is the least of my
worries. I’m sorry to say I’m confident it’ll be the least of yours as well,”
said Ryan.

“You can give your statement here in my office,” said
Archer. “I’ll have my counsel, John Kramer, here in less than an hour. You go
ahead and get your scientists and anybody else you need.”

“Thank you, sir. We need to give those statements on
video as well to record the physical mutations.”

“Mutations?” asked Archer. “No offense, but he looks
like a standard Marine to me.”

Ryan looked over at Derek. It was time to make Archer a
believer.

Derek stood and took off his shirt. He neatly folded it
and placed it on the seat of his chair. Reaching up to his mouth, he gripped
his two front teeth and with a slight jerking motion removed what resembled
dentures. He placed them in a plastic container and put them in his pocket.
Archer shook his head with a slight smile as if he were about to be the victim
of a prank.

“Agent Pearson, I’m sorry, but this is borderline
ridiculous. And this little show isn’t helping. I’m thinking maybe I need a
psych evaluation if I let this continue. Both of you just sit down and let me
get in touch with Donaldson before this goes too far.”

Derek closed his eyes and started to hyperventilate.
Archer immediately stopped talking, leaned back in his chair, and narrowed his
eyes.

“He’s turning pale,” observed Archer. “Is he going to
pass out?”

“No, sir, that’s how it starts.”

“The mutation is his skin color? That’s not exactly what
–”

Before Archer could finish his sentence, pulsating veins
resembling chaotic blue lightning bolts shot to the surface of Derek’s face and
neck.

“My God,” whispered Archer, mesmerized by Derek’s
transformation. Ryan’s eyes were fixated on Archer’s face because he knew what
was coming next would radically change his expression.

Derek began to move his head around in circles like
someone trying to stretch a sore neck. He pressed his lips together in obvious
pain and produced a low throaty groan. He abruptly stopped the rotation and
threw his head back, opening his mouth wide. He strained to open it wider until
Archer heard a disturbing popping noise. He assumed it was his jaw dislocating.
Archer instinctively stood up and drew his weapon when he saw the source of the
noise.

With his head tilted back, two fangs pushed out of his
gums and locked into the spaces previously occupied by the fake teeth. Blood
sprayed on Archer’s desk when the fangs broke through a thin layer of recently healed
tissue inside his mouth.

Archer aimed the weapon at Derek’s head, but the Marine
never took an aggressive step towards him. Ryan reassured Archer he was in no
danger. It seemed to offer him very little comfort.

Derek slowly raised his hands to his chest. During the
mutation, his fingers extended two inches past their normal length. His
fingernails added another inch as they thickened into intimidating claws. As
the fingernails transformed, they ripped through the sensitive skin, adding to
the pain of the event. Blood began to trickle down his palms and forearms.
Archer’s hands were shaking as he kept the sights of the pistol on Derek’s
disfigured face.

“This is what they did to me,” said Derek in a
distinctively lower voice. “They did it to all of us.”

“Derek,” said Ryan in a calming voice. “I think he
understands now.”

“I don’t think he does,” said Derek, glaring at Archer.

“Bring yourself back, buddy,” said Ryan, slowly moving
his hand to Derek’s shoulder. His earlier reassurance to Archer that he was in
no danger wasn’t exactly true.

“Talk to me and I promise to help you, son,” said Archer,
lowering his weapon. “I want to know who did this to you, Marine. I want you
both to tell me everything.”

After Derek mutated in front of Archer and then returned
to his normal human appearance, he truly had his undivided attention. Archer
summoned his special counsel who took their sworn statements. After receiving
the signal from Ryan, Michelle and Tom sent in the three Didache scientists who
gave their statements as well. Everyone was gathered in a conference room in
front of a bank of microphones and video cameras.

The meeting was in its sixth hour when the door to the
conference room opened, causing Derek to jump to his feet. Ryan rose slowly beside
Derek after the Marine recognized the man in the doorway. Ryan wasn’t surprised
when Deputy Director Boyd Donaldson walked into the room.

“I expected this,” said Ryan, attempting to calm Derek.

“I didn’t.”

“I made the call when we were setting up the room,” said
Archer. “Listen to what he has to say, Ryan. You need to hear it from him.”

“Keep the tapes rolling,” said Ryan.

“Of course,” replied Archer.

Donaldson took a seat at the table across from Ryan.
Derek reluctantly returned to his seat, never taking his eyes off the man who
wanted him dead. Donaldson had anticipated the cold welcome and deliberately
made his movements as slow and non-threatening as possible. He was aware of
Derek’s ability to kill him in less than a second, but was more wary of Ryan’s
disposition.

“The only way to do this was in person,” said Donaldson.
“I can only imagine what’s going through your head right now.”

“No, you can’t,” said Ryan. “If you did, you’d be doing
this over the phone.”

“This is exactly why I’m here. You’d be less inclined to
believe me if I chose that option.”

“I trusted you,” said Ryan, “Every word. You used your
position to further your own agenda, and it cost the lives of innocent people.
Whatever you told Archer to bring him to your side won’t be enough. It may not
happen today, but I swear I’ll be the guy putting the match on the pile that
burns you at the stake.”

“Ryan, you walked into my office asking me for help,”
interrupted Archer, “And I’m giving it to you. Nobody is going to put a hand on
you or Derek. You have my word. You’re both going to walk out of here today.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t give a shit about
that. There’s no doubt in my mind that Derek is walking out of here. But I’m
not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere until he’s in a cell.”