GMO Strain Origin

By JW Foxtemple

Join Dr. Jane Santos, and her team of contracted mercenaries, as they scour the desert of Iraq searching for a renegade Bio-Engineer. He must be found, and stopped before his creation causes a world wide epidemic of unimaginable proportions. The fight will not be easy, as the renegade himself has allied with local radicals who also wish to use his weapon for their own purpose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JW Foxtemple
• Release date: Sep 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370323326

JW Foxtemple

As a retired member of the United States Coast Guard, and veteran of the U.S. Army I find I have plenty of time on my hands in my current role of stay at home dad. To fill my empty time while my children attend school I have begun writing. If not I would have to do things like clean, cook, and do laundry. I find writing a much better hobby.

Book preview

Prologue

The cages rattled as the men moved them from the trucks into the building. It was late in the day so the workers could avoid the heat of the Iraqi desert, but it was still warm even for those born to it. The two men looked uneasy to be here surrounded by armed men known for intolerance, and hate. This is not the first time they have had to move new animals into a new location. The last place was lost in an accident that only the doctor understood, and he was not explaining anything to them.

Sami I do not like this one bit. The monkeys at the last place was crazy, but now these animals I do not know. We should leave this once we are done. Said Kasim.

Kasim set his end of the cage down. Why speak English brother? If they hear us they will kill us like Mahmod. Those were chimps, and these are gorillas. Be glad that they are drugged.

They got quiet as one of the armed men walked into the building. He gave them a dirty look, and walked straight through to the other room where Doctor Fashead was setting up his lab.

That man scares me Sami. He looks at us like dogs, and the lights in this building are giving me headaches with the buzzing.

Be quiet Kasim. We have more cages to bring in. If you wish to leave once we are done we can, but until then just keep your head down, and do the work. I worry if we anger these men they will kill us not fire us.

In the laboratory area the man with the gun sat on the corner of a clean metal desk that looked completely out of place in this dusty old building made of mudbrick, and sand. On the opposite end was a computer that would be used to hold all the findings the doctor thought important enough to record. Kasim tried not to look at the laptop too long, so as not to draw the attention of the other man. Fashead was still very upset that the last computer was left behind in the previous laboratory.

His only solace was that he kept a backup copy of everything he had done. He took the gun from around his neck setting it across his lap. His eyes traversed the dark room noting no windows, or any other way in or out besides the doorway he just walked through. The room was not large, but big enough for the steel desk to run along one wall, and a cold locker on the other to hold the doctor’s vials that he used to hold the virus, and other things. The smell in the room was a combination of dust, and sanitizers, as if the two were locked in a never ending battle over the territory.

In the middle of the room sat a large table made of shiny steel that looked like a giant torture bed from a movie. It had metal cuffs at head, and foot with chains anchoring them to the table which could be lengthened or shortened by turning a wheel on either end. Down the center ran a groove that flowed to the foot, and then down through a tube into a large bag That would catch any fluids that ran its length.

He turned his attention to the cabinet on the other side of the room. It was a long thing that ran the length of the room. Made of what looked to be thick sheet metal with glass windows in the doors. The glass was fogged with the refrigeration keeping everything cool inside. The vials needed to be kept at a particular temperature, or bad things could happen the Doctor would say. And this is where the Doc was now ensuring all of his creations were in the place he deemed they should be.

Your men are not very smart, Fashead. They speak in English thinking me, and my men cannot understand them. You know they are talking of leaving once this load is done. If they leave they could talk to someone, The gunman told him.

Ahh! Do not worry about them. Once the last cage is brought in, and they are all arranged, they will finish the wiring. Then I will have only one more job for them anyway. Fashead said waving towards the table. Now, Akram, tell me is this location better hidden than the last one? The mercenaries have taken over one of my old research libraries, and we both know it won’t be long until they find our last lab.

Yes this place is very well hidden. We are in an isolated area just below the Turkey border. They would have to travel through very hostile area to get to us. Even the American Army would have to fight every inch before getting to us. We are safe here. Akram assured him.

Good. Good. Here take this with you back out to the holding room, and when the two men are done use it, and bring them to me. I have a spot they can rest their fears in. Dr. Fashead handed him a tranquilizer gun with one hand, and gesturing to a wall at the far end of the room were two sets of shackles hung down that he had not noticed before.

Akram smiled, nodded, and headed back into the room with the caged animals. The two men were just coming back in with another large cage between them. As he watched Akram took in their size noting they were large men. Much larger than any of his soldiers. He found himself relieved that if he had to take them alive he would be using drugs, and not brute force, but he was concerned about the Doctor using these two so soon after what had happened at the last lab.

He continued to watch as they worked. Neither of them spoke while in his presence at all out of fear perhaps, but it did not matter to him. He knew they would soon have no fear at all, or any other emotion for that matter. Well except the one anyway.

What was being done here amazed him as much as scared him, and once again he found himself glad that he is on this side of the war to come instead of the other. He looked down at the pistol in his hand checking to make sure a round was chambered while the men were out grabbing another animal. It was a small thing; smaller than a nine millimeter pistol all a silver color, an automatic, so he would only need to point, and fire at the both of them.

The work continued for a short while longer with the two brothers bringing in a set of six cages with one ape in each. Once inside they pushed, and pulled the cages into a configuration of three to either side with walking space all the way around each of them. They began running cords of wiring up the walls, and over the center of each cage. There they hooked up lamps that would shine down directly onto the animals, so they could be observed in full light.

Once they completed their last task they walked past Akram towards the office hoping to collect their pay, and quit he supposed. They never noticed the small weapon in his hand. Two loud pops, and a stinging in their necks was the last thing they would ever remember.

The Team

The firefight ended faster than it started. After securing the target site only six terrorists were found. They tried to hold off the assault but it was no use. The men were over run with each getting off a single shot at most. It was more of a slaughter than a battle.

The briefing the team had received stated the facility would hold more than twenty radicals. It was apparent that the enemy had forewarning of the thirty-member assault teams attack on the location, as they had bugged out fast.

They had gotten out any weapons, or equipment, and useful intelligence of what they might have been working on, as far as the team leader could tell. The crew knew by the empty spaces around the room something important had been here not long ago. Now the place was littered with broken chemical processing containers from small vials to large gallon beakers. The machinery was all smashed, and useless now. However, piles of paperwork littered the ground. Notes of some kind of research that would all have to be picked through, and searched for any leads to what was going on.

Jorge bring in that chemist. See if she can make any sense of the stuff we have in here, and have her test this place to see if we can get out of this protective gear. Just because the sun’s down doesn’t mean I’m not sweating out twenty pounds in this heavy crap.

Roger that John. So how does it feel being back here? You were here what in 03, or 04 right? Jorge replied.

Yeah late 03, and early 04. When I was here we were still at war with Iraq not these terrorists, and this was just a fertilizer plant. John was suddenly taken by the image of an old man smiling over a shot of tea, as he was trying to talk another man into marrying one of his many daughters. The old man who ran this place was a good guy. Sad what they did to him, and his family. He used to make us all tea, and have us over for dinner. Now get to it, the quicker I get out of this damn suit the better.

John looked around the room. Other than the broken glass, and smashed equipment the place looked nearly the same as it did the first day his old unit had moved in. The memory came back to him so clearly he could smell the dust in the air.

The team had received orders to take an old chemical processing compound that had been used to create ammonia for fertilizer back in the day. As soon as John saw the report he knew the location immediately. Intelligence showed it being used as a research laboratory to make some sort of biochemical weapon now.

The briefing however gave no information of what it could possibly be, so the team assumed it to be a typical chemical bomb factory such as acid bombs which they have dealt with several times before, but John was not fully convinced. Whatever it was it did not sit well in the team leaders stomach, as he surveyed the room of debris around him.

All clear throughout the compound John. Whatever they did here they took it with them. We can take these suits off now. Doctor Jane Santos said as she herself began to slip out of her protective gear.

You know I slept in this room about thirteen years ago. Two platoons of men with all our gear was shoved into this space minus those out on patrol, or guard duty. We had two men up in that tower out back there. John said pointing out a back glassless window where you could see a steel tower climbing two hundred feet up. Now it looks nothing like it did in here other than run down, and dirty. We had boards going across these trenches all through the room, and cots from wall to wall. It seems they just filled them all in with this equipment, and trash. He said as he took off his head gear.

John glanced over at Santos, as she slipped out of the pants of her suit. She was an attractive woman in her late twenties with shoulder length brown hair. She stood at five foot even, and probably weighed ninety pounds at most. She looked completely out of place here now wearing a white t-shirt drenched in sweat showing off her high breasts, and flat stomach. Not a great choice of shirt when surrounded by a bunch of hired security contractors in a hostile territory, but not something anyone was going to bring up either. She was smart in her choice of black camo pants, and side zipped jungle style boots though. She noticed the way John was looking at her and blushed slightly. He noted her smirk as she turned away, and smiled himself.

He turned his attention to removing his own suit glad to finally take it off. The heat any time of year, besides winter can be brutal without the extra layers let alone in a charcoal filled coat, and pants. John was not the typical soldier in appearance. At five foot eleven inches he was just above average height, and at a hundred eighty pounds he was on the lighter side when most of his team was over six foot, and two hundred pounds.

He did note at least the good doctor found him attractive, as she would give him little glances now, and then, as he stripped of his own outer layers. He flexed his shoulders a few times just to be a little silly, and heard her try to cover a giggle by pretending to cough.

It was not really a bad thing, neither were married, no kids, and did not really work together. She was attached to the team at the last minute by the higher ups. None of the team thought it was a good idea she came along, but when the ones who sign the check say she goes, she goes. No one argued.

It was not that they held the belief a woman would be a distraction, or a hindrance since four of the assault team itself were women. They had mixed feelings about a scientist going along for the initial attack, and worried over her safety. They formed a plan that held her in the rear in a command support position to keep her from harm's way as they completed the fighting. She was guarded by five members of the team one of them being Jorge the friendlier member of the group as well as the second in charge after John.

Jorge was also the second longest living member of the team. Him, and John had been together since the creation of their group. Eight years of mission after mission between members dying, or leaving to try for a normal life they were side by side for most of it. They were the only two remaining of the core members. Even now over half of the team had just joined up in less than six months. Jorge had recruited them all from different branches of service, and countries. As an ex United Nations Security Forces officer he had the contacts.

With a name like Jorge Sanchez one expected a short stocky man of Hispanic characteristics, but not with him. His mother was South American, but his father was a Kenyan soldier according to her. To look at him you could believe it too. He was six foot four, and at least two hundred, and forty pounds if not more, and not an ounce of fat. His complexion was that of a native Colombian with a deep tan.

Standing outside, while John and Doctor Santos worked through the trash left behind, Jorge took in his surroundings. The building he stood by now was a large concrete, and sand mud construct like all the other buildings in Iraq. He could see where other buildings might have stood before even some crude structures that might have been a thrown together shower stall, or an outhouse. All of it burned out, or knocked to the ground by the crazy bastards who turned this place into a lab.

They seemed to be bent on destroying everything they had no use for. Even if it might be useful later, as if they had no concept of thinking ahead. Jorge thought he would never be able to understand these people. After eight years of trying he had just given up on it, and focused on stopping them from doing whatever it was they were up to this time.

Man this has to be strange for John being back here. He said out loud glancing over the rundown compound.

Yeah not really a place I ever thought to see again. You see that little structure there? He said pointing to a small square structure that had been burnt out, but the frame was still intact, and you could see