Looker: Lydia Branson, Book 1

By Heather N. Gibson

LOOKER is the first book in the Lydia Branson trilogy, a science fiction thriller that merges KINETICS, TECHNOLOGY, and an ever-growing world of anti-heroes that make up a small part of Midian Entertainment's BREED Multiverse. Follow BREED exclusive Lydia Branson as she and her Special Ops team utilize her dangerous gifts to take on hunt-and-destroy cases that no one else will touch. The Lydia Branson series promises to bring a genre-bending twist to the BREED multiverse - one which will keep you drooling for the next mashup of mind arts and technology.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather N. Gibson
• Release date: Feb 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781370583911

Heather N. Gibson

Heather Noel Gibson is a Florida native with deep roots, currently writing from the beautiful Atlantic coast. She is a single mom (read: Super Mom) to one (God help her) teenager, and adopted mom to 2 rescued kitties (really, they’re just little furry people). She finds most inspiration by engaging in people watching, primarily at random festivals and gatherings where weirdness of all walks convenes. Authors including William Gibson and Dan Brown are also major influences in her work. Heather is working on an update to her young adult novel Becoming Rachel with a second-edition planned very soon. While that happens, she is also researching and crafting the completion on the Lydia Branson trilogy. Also in the plans is an expansion on the series which may include comics, games, live action film, and collectible merch! Heather is proud to work with the creative group at Midian Entertainment, LLC, where she finds incredible creative freedom, support, and camaraderie. Stay tuned for more exciting and twisted adventures in this and other upcoming series!

Book preview

LOOKER

Lydia Branson, Book 1

by Heather Gibson

First Print Edition, January 2019.

Copyright © 2019 by Heather Gibson. All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

To Contact the Author: [e-mail]

SINCERE THANKS...

Scads of thanks are due to the incredible team of folks who helped make this book and related trilogy possible.

First, my sincerest gratitude goes out to my wifey Lauri Midge Cline. It was her introduction of me to the right people who got all these shenanigans started.

Next, to my cover artist Alyn Bryan for translating my vision into a real work of art. Alyn is available for commissions, and can be reached at [e-mail].

Next, to my editor, Lee Almodovar, who saved the day by stepping up when quick work was needed. She's a trusted friend and I look forward to working with her on all future endeavors.

To my daughter Sikari Summer, thank you for being my biggest fan and for helping me name some major characters in this series! You are my sunshine!

And to my teammates Charles Barbin (Midian Entertainment – You make dreams come true), David Rex Bonnewell (Legacy Scribes Studios - To the moon and back!), Ray Wade Jr. (Midian Entertainment), and everyone else involved in this production from inspiration to publication, Thank You! From the bottom of my heart. You all are my heroes.

CHAPTER ONE

Nowhere, AZ

Lydia was still on edge and distrustful from her abduction three weeks ago by the brute of a man called Captain Solomon. Even so, her mind was more relaxed lately because she realized the team holding her had promised to treat her well and they did, providing her comfortable accommodations, three meals a day, and nearly anything else she'd asked for. That is, all except outside communication. They didn't refer to it as a kidnapping - they'd called it an official acquisition. It still didn't sit well with her, and she knew her family would be beside themselves trying to locate her. She worried her husband and son would feel she'd finally had enough and had simply walked out, but although things were not perfect at home, abandoning her family was not something she would do. She hoped they knew that much, at least.

Slumping back against the pillow in the well-apportioned room in which the team kept her, Lydia allowed her mind to wander to her happy place. Her plot of the rooftop garden above the fourth floor of their Manhattan apartment building afforded her the luxury of privacy whenever she wanted it. On an island of eight million people, this was prime territory. Going there in her mind now gave her a brief respite from her new reality: government spy. Of course, they didn't call her a spy either, but there is no denying that is why she was being used. She also had no definitive proof that it was actually the government that had kidnapped her. They wanted her because Lydia had an ability most sane people attributed only to science fiction: remote viewing.

Better than any drone or satellite, she could visit any place in the world and report back in real-time everything she saw and heard, all from the safety offered inside this compound, all completely undetectable. How this team found out about her was another mystery. Captain Solomon would only divulge that they were a rogue group of Navy SEALS, eight in the team, on a highly sensitive mission to uncover and eliminate a new terror sleeper cell operating somewhere in the United States. Previously, she'd had no relationship with any part of the military, never been enlisted, and had never discussed her gifts, nor used them publicly. She had no reason to believe she could be on any sort of government watch list, as she'd led a fairly sterile and boring life. Yet here she was. She also didn’t believe a damned word of what they told her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. A man called Dillon entered carrying a tray with a bowl of chicken and dumplings, her favorite comfort food, and a glass of orange juice. The smell of the soup caused her stomach to rumble audibly. They fed her well; however, the viewing took a lot of energy out of her, so she stayed hungrier than usual. I brought your favorite, Dillon said as he placed the tray on her small writing desk. Lydia nodded and slipped from her bed, padding across the floor toward her hot lunch. Hey, Dillon continued, Don't look so sullen. I know this is strange for you but as soon as Solomon gets the intelligence he needs to crack this terror cell open, you'll be free to go. It'll be like nothing ever happened,

Except that I've lost the last few weeks of my life, Lydia retorted between bites. Is that how long it's been? It seems like longer. Or it could be one never-ending nightmare of a day, I can't even tell anymore. All these walls look the same. Dillon took a deep breath and let it out slowly, silently agreeing with her. He lowered his head and left the room without making further eye contact, securing the door behind him. He didn't think this was fair on Lydia or her family but he had no say in the matter. When he made the decision to leave the Navy with Solomon – a decision he regretted to this day – he knew he was married to the team for however long this adventure lasted. When this was through, he knew he would likely need to remain in hiding or face life in prison for treason. That was not something he relished thinking about.

Twenty minutes later and with a full belly, Lydia sat across from Captain Solomon at a plain metal table in a room paneled with two-way mirrors. The last time they met at this table, she'd had a breakthrough that gave the SEAL team the most accurate leads they'd obtained yet in finding the U.S. sleeper cell. They knew now that one powerful agent was in hiding and they only needed to locate him before she would be free to get back to her life. Her last viewing had taken her to a remote camp somewhere along the Syrian-Turkish border. During that session, her senses were particularly keen and she'd returned from her remote-viewing trance with information that severely narrowed down their search.

The lone wolf they sought was known now to be in the United States legally and his area was narrowed down to approximately a 100-mile radius in Northern California. This was an odd place to think of an ISIS sympathizer making his temporary home, but that is what made him so difficult to find. He did not fit any of the typical profile keys of a terrorist supporter. By tapping into the memories of the Syrian group she'd tracked, every mention of the lone wolf sparked visions of a Caucasian man who looked like any other American man you would see in passing every day. He was an utterly Average Joe – jeans and T-shirt type with short, sandy-brown hair, blue eyes, and nothing in particular that stood out about him. He could be anyone and he was out there, living among the innocents, plotting a horrific attack on the American people.

At 2:00 p.m. sharp, Captain Solomon snapped her out of her daydream by clearing his throat. Lydia, as you know, we are closer now than ever to finding this terrorist and the stakes are high. We must locate him and take him down before he does irreparable damage to this country. If we miss him and he succeeds, the entire population is at risk. I have intelligence that confirms he is in possession of a highly effective biological weapon of mass destruction. He stood and leaned forward onto his elbows, his face just inches from hers. As imposing as he looked, he spoke softly. We’re not talking about just one bomb, Lydia. We are talking about widespread attacks with a virus so nasty it makes everything from cholera to AIDS look like child’s play.

Lydia’s eyes widened in fear as she thought of her husband and son coming into contact with it. We don’t have the virus yet. It’s a new creation. A superbug without a cure - yet, Solomon continued. Lydia drew her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly before she hyperventilated. She started to rock back and forth as tears began streaming from her eyes. Solomon knew he had screwed up. This woman could not work under pressure. Maybe in time, but not now. It was all still too new to her.

He put his hand on Lydia’s arm to stop her from rocking. When she looked up at him with that panic-stricken face, he wanted nothing more than to hold her, though he knew better. He looked around for a box of tissues, but of course found none, so he simply said, I’ll be right back. Solomon exited the room quietly then stormed to his office looking for any semblance of tissue he could find. Storming back out empty handed, he finally settled on a chunk of towels from the restroom’s dispenser. Before going back into the interrogation room, he took a moment to compose himself. With a deep breath, he opened the door, entered, and placed the towels next to her. She took one and buried her face in it. Take a moment, he said.

Leaving the room once more, Solomon took out his walkie-talkie and radioed another of his crew. Tanger, come in, he said. Static sputtered as his radio came to life. Tanger, go ahead. Over.

Tanger, it's Solomon. We're gonna need the juice.

Roger that, Captain. Be there in two.

Solomon switched off his radio and returned to Lydia. She was eerily quiet, leaving him unsure of what to expect from her. He certainly did choose an enigma of a subject this time. I didn't mean to upset you, he said, but was cut off by a sudden outburst.

Lydia exploded: Didn't mean to upset me!? You are so full of shit! The outburst surprised even Lydia, but she continued, caught up in the momentum. You and your team of bullies snatch me out of my own home, what was it, eight against one? Did that make you feel big and strong? Then you shoot me up with God knows what so I can't fight back and sneak me out the back alley, throw a bag over my head, and keep me in the back of some truck blindfolded for DAYS taking me away to - where in the hell am I anyway, she demanded.

Solomon responded calmly, Nowhere.

Lydia stood up and boldly screamed right into his face, That is not an answer!

Solomon took a step back. Normally the roles would be reversed and he would be the one screaming at some lowlife peon to get something done, but the intensity of this woman before him was impressive. She had no fear when she was this livid. He could train this, use it, but for now it would not do. Unfortunately, she could not use her talents unless she was completely relaxed. Right now, she was a powder keg and he was throwing off sparks with every word he spoke. Nowhere, Arizona. Nowhere is the official registered name of an unpopulated town. That is where we are. He returned then to his side of the table and resumed his seat, hoping to tone down some of the energy in the room.

Lydia kept pacing. She had to calm down but she was riled. What she needed was a glass of wine and her own sofa, not some belligerent testosterone freak playing games with her. Seething, she returned to her side of the table, hands gripping the edges as if she were trying to snap the table in two. Just tell me what the hell I’m looking for.

Solomon nodded, wondering where Tanger was. What do you remember about our last session?

She sat back and closed her eyes, trying to think. Her thoughts were blurred by her anger and every time she tried to remember, all that happened was her thoughts wandering back to her husband and son. There was a group of Arabs… a bunker… some white guy who didn’t belong there… There was... and she broke down sobbing. I just want to go home, she whispered. When Solomon asked her what she’d just said, she snapped back loudly, I want to go home!

At that moment, Tanger appeared at the door behind her. As she was screaming, she didn’t hear the door slide open. Solomon walked to her and placed his hands on her arms, telling her, I know you do. We all do. But we can’t. Not yet. Not until this is over. He nodded to Tanger as he gripped her arms tighter, preventing her from struggling out of his hold as the syringe was plunged into the back of her arm. Before the haze overtook her, Solomon saw her eyes flash what seemed like a rainbow of colors and he guided her into the chair as she collapsed under her own weight.

Solomon looked long and hard at her, trying to reason with what he’d just seen. It had to have been a trick of the bright interrogation lights glinting off her tears, but that still didn’t seem quite right. Tanger placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair briefly, whispering, I’m sorry. Most of the team had taken an immediate liking to Lydia and despised having to resort to any kind of show of force against her. They had their orders though, and disobeying them would bring punishment. No punishment handed down by Solomon however could compare to the harsh reality Lydia was going through right now. As the Propofol cocktail injection began to take effect, her eyebrows furrowed and she felt herself slip away into the blue mist. Solomon only noticed the confused look on her face.

CHAPTER TWO

Jarabulus, Syria

At a glance, the Cerablus Türk Hastanesi was experiencing a rather quiet day. Every staff member at the free hospital enjoyed the rare lull in events. Today, there had been no bombings, no bloodshed. The only activity the emergency department had seen were a handful of people with a lower intestinal disturbance - common due to the poor water quality even in such a populated city - and one older man who had overexerted himself and was in need of intravenous fluids. It was early yet and most of their emergency activity began after the sun went down, which would be in about two hours. For now, the day staff was preparing to end their shift as the in-hospital patients took their evening meal.

In the basement were the hospital’s laboratories. Here, common blood work was carried out