“Why was the funding cut?”
“People started dying from the drugs, so they scrapped the program.”
“So even if Drake manages to survive the detox, he is still brainwashed?”
“Unless you put him through deprogramming therapy, yeah. See, we put him through some intense Psychotherapy too.”
“How would he get deprogramming therapy?”
He shrugs. “A well-equipped mental hospital can set up the therapy.”
“Are there any others like Drake?”
“No Red Rain was a pilot program. Drake was the first.”
“Jacob, do you really want to drink this shit?”
“Look, I am not lying to you! The only candidate I ever interacted with was Drake. If there are other agents, I wasn’t made aware of them.”
He is telling the truth.
“What’s the other drug your people gave him?”
“Right, the combat enhancer. It boosts his awareness and helps him stay awake for several days at a time and jacks up his pain tolerance along with making him hyperaware and enhancing his endurance level.”
Goddamn, they turned him into a super-assassin.
“Does this drug have a name?”
“Noxtixtrino or Nox for short.”
I scoff and cross my arms. “I’m sure the American people will be happy as pigs in shit to know their tax dollars are being spent on shit like this. Taking soldiers and exploiting their love for God and country.”
“We didn’t just use their tax money; we also used their donations to our Help the Syrian Children charity. Because nothing gets Americans to empty their bank accounts like seeing poor suffering children in war zones.”
“Placating people's love for the children. I guess the CIA and MI6 really have lost its morals.”
“Morals? Morals don’t win wars, monsters win wars. If ordering a jet to drop a bomb on a village demoralizes the enemy and makes them think twice about attacking America and its allies, then so be it. The days of this bullshit ‘not sinking to their level’ is over.”
“So does that give you the right to exploit a man’s love for his country and his desire to protect it?”
“Exploited? He laughs. “He wanted to join the program. He was a soldier looking for another fight, and we gave him one.”
“I’m guessing the brainwashing, and the drugs didn’t make it into the fine print when he signed his soul away.”
“Agent Drake has made a bigger dent in the war on terrorism in the past two years; than we have in the past 18.”
“Bullshit!”
“Detective, the terrorists run to places we can’t just up and bomb because they are hiding in countries where there is no war. Agent Drake can slip into those places and kill the targets and slip out without causing an international incident.”
“Because then they wouldn’t investigate any deeper than him being a serial killer.”
“Exactly. Even if he is captured, we don’t intervene.”
“Really, you don’t? So what do you call killing everyone who knows about Red Rain?”
“Things are different. Drake is selling us out. He is trying to destroy everything we worked so hard to build. This war must be won!”
I grab him by the throat, cutting off his air. “You call murdering children and brainwashing a man, war? I squeeze his neck harder, and he lets out a gag. “What you’re doing is not war. It’s a crime against humanity, and I am going to burn every goddamn thing to the ground, and Drake is fire to the gas.” I yank my hand off his throat, and he gasps for air, trying to find his breath.
“Everything we’ve done has been for the safety of America and the western world.”
I pick up my cell. “You can tell that to the Feds.” I dial up Munroe.
“Hello,” she says groggily.
“Munroe, get your ass to my apartment.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I have the sniper who tried to kill us tied up in my living room. Turns out he is not with the Valkyrie, he is with the CIA.”
“Hang on, Lobos. I will be right there.” her voice perks up.
I hang up. “Feds are on their way.”
He scowls at me. “You have no idea how you’re hurting the war on terrorism.”
My jaw clenches with anger. “Killing children to send a message to the terrorists doesn’t help us, it just makes them say look see the west really is as evil as they say.” I stand up and open a bottle of scotch and take a sip. “We have to fight the terrorists, I agree, but not at the expense of our souls.”
He scoffs. “It’s that idealist horseshit is why this war has lasted 18 years.”
“Yeah, tell that to the Federal Prosecutor.” I press the 9mm to his forehead. “I’d rather just kill all of you, but then the world will never know the truth. Besides, it will be more entertaining to see you assholes on the news squirming in the courtroom as Drake shares the CIA and MI6’s dirty little secrets.”
He shakes his head and laughs. “You are so fucking Naïve, Lobos. You think you will get to parade us on the news? They will silence me before you even get me to trial.”
“Be kinda hard when you’re going to be surrounded by Feds.”
“Famous last words, Detective.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll put another bullet in your in your leg.”
***
There is a pounding on my door. I peer through the peephole and its Agent Munroe wearing a blue FBI jacket and black sweat pants and white tennis shoes; the other agents are wearing matching jackets, but they’re in suits. I open the door, and Agent Munroe directs her agents to cuff Jacob. “What happened, Lobos?”
