Trapped

white one also looked like someone had used him as the board in a game of darts.

The doctor reached into the sex bag and pulled out a ball gag. Red rubber, with a strap that wound around the head to hold it in the mouth.

“You, young man, if you’d be so kind I need you to put your back against the bars so I can put this on you.”

“Hells no. You can stick that thing up yo ass, old dude.”

“It’s just a simple ball gag. Surely you don’t want to annoy our special guests with your screaming.”

“Ain’ no way you gettin’ that thing in my mouth.”

Plincer nodded. “I do admire a man with convictions. But I must mention the alternative. If you won’t allow me to gag you, I’ll have to sew your lips together.”

The black boy paused, then put his back to the bars and opened his mouth. Plincer made sure the buckle was on tight, then put the next one on the girl in the same fashion. The white boy was difficult—his injuries seemed to limit his range of motion. Plincer managed to coerce him into rolling over to the bars, and put the gag on him as he was lying down.

Doctor Plincer had something else they each needed to wear, also from the sex store, but chose to wait for Lester and Martin to assist, because they’d no doubt balk at the sight of them.

As though God was reading Plincer’s thoughts, Martin suddenly burst in through the outside door. He was pinching his nose, his shirt tie-dyed with blood. Lester strolled in behind him, a large frown creasing his face.

“Sara got away,” Martin said by way of explanation. “With the baby.”

“She has no place to run. You can find her after the company leaves. And make sure the baby lives. You know I want him for my next enhancement.” Plincer glanced up at Lester. “And why, might I ask, are you sulking?”

“Martin told Lester that the Sara woman killed the pet, not Subject 33. Lester wants to bite off the Sara woman’s fingers.”

“I’m sure you’ll have the chance later, Lester. Martin, you’d better go get cleaned up. Also make sure Georgia is presentable, and please find a tool belt for her with all the standard equipment, if you’d be so kind. Lester, please help me put these on the children. I believe they’re going to object.”

Plincer reached into the bag once again, withdrawing three black leather dog collars.

PART 5

REAPING

General Tope waited for the engine to cut off before he removed the protective hearing muffs from his ears. The chopper ride had been loud and bumpy, and passing over the trees had reminded him of the last time he’d taken a bird into the field. Vietnam, more than thirty years ago.

All for God and country, Tope thought.

It didn’t matter to the General that his country had no idea he was here. The US Military needed this. Whether they wanted it or not didn’t matter.

With reserves, the US military boasted over two and a half million personnel. But India and Russia each had just as many. China and North Korea each had even more. Turkey, Brazil, Pakistan, and Egypt combined for another four million.

The United Stated of America was outnumbered and outgunned.

Nukes didn’t mean a thing anymore. Tope knew they’d never be used in battle, and their deterrent power ended with the Cold War.

He reflected back on the old times, and how much things have changed. These days, wars were fought with intelligence and technology. But they never ended. They dragged on, troops dying in vain, with no discernable progress. When was the last time the US won a war?

But throughout history, wars had been won. And not by tech. It was ruthlessness that decided the victor.

Ghengis Khan. Trajan. Napoleon. Atilla the Hun. Marius. Alexander the Great. Julius Caesar. There was no mercy on the field of battle for these great leaders.

An army with no mercy was a fearsome force.

But an army with a thirst for blood—that was an unstoppable force.

General Tope had plans for making his army unstoppable. Plans that involved the serum and procedure Dr. Plincer had developed to enhance a subject’s aggression.

If Plincer could actually turn a normal person into a bloodthirsty sadist, the US would have the most powerful weapon ever created.

Imagine a thousand such psychopaths unleashed on a city. Imagine ten thousand let loose in Iran, or North Korea.

Such an army would be cost-free. It would have no need for weapons or training. It wouldn’t require food or shelter. It could use the transportation already available in the country it had infiltrated. Such an army wouldn’t even need orders, having the order to kill already programmed into its collective brain.

Just like the infomercial said. You could just set it, and forget it.

And General Tope could have it all for just twenty-five million dollars. A pittance. And the ATACMS missiles and launcher he sold to Hamas to cover the cost were “officially” considered obsolete surplus and destroyed, so they wouldn’t be missed.

Tope unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed his metal suitcase, waiting for the rotor blades to stop turning before he exited the chopper. The pilot, a First Lieutenant named Crouch, would stay with the helicopter. A burly Sergeant named Benson would accompany Tope to the meeting and act as muscle if needed. Both were doing this off the clock, and not out of patriotism—Tope had paid them well.

Intel reported that Plincer lived alone, except for his enhanced subjects and the wild people who didn’t respond well to the procedure. As of this morning, the Orbiting Strand Satellite Telescope readings had placed the diminishing number of people on the island at twenty-four. Tope hoped these weren’t the volunteers Plincer had been planning to use in his demonstration. He didn’t want to waste time having his men hunt down one of the ferals to use.

The clearing they’d landed in was surrounded by woods, the prison building less than fifty yards away. Tope walked briskly, and Benson matched his pace, sidearm in hand and scanning the treeline for trouble.

General Tope didn’t need to look at his watch, but he did so anyway. Nine o’clock precisely. He allowed himself a measure of satisfaction at being on time, then rapped strongly on the iron door.

Almost immediately it creaked opened, but so slowly that Tope ordered Benson to assist.