Specimen 192: Genetically Modified Species, #1

By Melissa Bell

Taylor works for a cutting edge company but is oblivious to the Company's more secretive patents. She has no idea that the CEO is weaponizing DNA by creating hybrids. Until she comes face to face with one of them. 

Specimen 192 is the first successful hybrid of his kind. Can Taylor convince the Genetically Modified Species to let her help him? Or will he continue to push her away?

Specimen 192 was born out of need. But when the CEO's priorities shifted so did 192's future. Finally free from captivity can 192 walk away from the sexy female who makes his heart speed up? 

He's been dispatched to eliminate Taylor because she knows too much, but can he use her to get the information he needs to free his people?

Can Taylor make 192 roar? Can 192 make Taylor purr?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa Bell & Jordin Thiele Inc.
• Release date: Oct 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393646341

Book preview

PROLOGUE

M ake sure that Leo is adequately sedated this time, Doctor Franklyn insisted. He was aware that the previous attempt to collect skin cells from the feisty feline had put them all in a great deal of danger. A simple miscalculation in the anesthetics had meant they’d barely made it out of the room alive. Every single one of his team carried the scars as a physical reminder of their previous mistakes. Even now, Dr. Franklyn often woke in a pool of sweat from nightmares. The backs of Dr. Franklyn’s hands and forearms carried the mark of the beast giving him a permanent reminder to be more careful when carrying out such procedures in the future.

My, you are a magnificent specimen, Leo. I can only live in the hope that your offspring are as resilient as you are, Dr. Franklyn spoke to the heavily sedated feline. While he prepared to shave the fur from the lion’s muscular rump, which was currently strapped securely to the table. He carefully wiped Leo’s skin with a betadine solution to cleanse the area in preparation for collecting the skin shavings.

The progress of the experiment would be a ground-breaking moment if his theory were successful. The basis of his thesis was in alignment with collecting the skin cells of a fully matured male lion, then combining them with the matured ovum from a female specimen. He’d be using the formulated steps to fuse them to create an early-stage embryo that would be ready to implant into a surrogate mother’s womb.

It was his way of creating a future population that was resistant to the diseases that threatened humankind, including cancer, aids, dementia, even as basic as the common cold. They would be creating a bigger, more powerful fighter genetically bred to have stronger bones, faster healing ability, and the agility of their inner animal.

The genetically modified offspring would have traits of both parents, but the dominant genes would, in the end, override the fallible D.N.A. The double helix would be a combination of both chromosomes. However, it was highly likely that the offspring would be of the male gender to a higher ratio of up to ninety-two percent. As per the forecasting, females would be a rarity, if the embryos managed to survive to full term.

Doctor Franklyn carried the samples into the adjoining lab, and with only a fraction of doubt, he stared at the fresh collection of unfertilized eggs acquired from the donor.

FM – 001 was about to undergo a third attempt at Invitro Fertilisation. The previous inseminations had not been successful due to the male’s sperm being on the lower count and a juvenile formation. Even after selecting only the most mature samples, the female failed to carry past two or three weeks, which failed in both previous attempts.

With FM – 001’s desperate desire to produce offspring growing to be higher than the risks. Her husband decided to try one final attempt; only this time, they would not be using the biological father’s seed. They would be using his skin scrapings along with those of a mature male lion to fertilize the ovum from the female.

No matter what Franklyn thought of the process, he was answerable to his investors, and that meant the C.E.O. of Spectra Geneses. They were at the forefront of weaponry with their involvement in several top-secret military contracts. Franklyn needed data to justify the significant amounts of money absorbed through their underground experiments. Without the ongoing resources, there would be no way for them to continue to progress with the projects they were currently gaining ground on. Franklyn saw a future not too far away from where humans could be resistant to all forms of disease.

Franklyn shook his head. He’d been so naïve when he’d first started looking into backing for his dissertation. It had taken him by surprise when one of the richest men in the country had walked into his college laboratory, and he’d allowed himself to be seduced by Simon Elkington into believing that his science would lead to a better quality of life. The ability to improve the immune system of a population over-riddled with ailments. One where they were fed penicillin-like oranges, effectively turning everyone into a pill-popping society, who believe a tablet could fix everything. This meant that the general population raced to the nearest doctor at the first signs of a sniffle or tickle in the back of their throat.

Ten years later, he no longer wore the rose-tinted glasses of hope for a healthier world.

His movements were sluggish until he felt the pressure of a gun digging into his ribs.

You wouldn’t be trying to hinder the success of the program at this stage of the experiment, would you Doctor Franklyn? the male’s voice spoke only loud enough for him to hear.

With a sigh, he proceeded to extract the nucleus from the collected eggs one at a time. Each dish was then sat on a plate that conducted an electrical pulse, causing the introduced skin cells from Leo - the lion, and Elkington - the C.E.O. of Spectra Geneses to fuse with the egg.

They will be ready for implantation stage in around seventy-two hours. If the initial testing is successful, then you will need to supply several surrogates at a time for the highest possible yields.

Twenty Eight Weeks Later …

---

M rs. Elkington, you need to push, the midwife urged.

No – It’s too early, Cassandra cried.

Mrs. Elkington, you have seen the scans for yourself, Doctor Franklyn spoke softly. It’s time for us to deliver this baby.

I can’t, Cassandra cried. It hurts too much.

I know, but we’re nearly done. A couple more good pushes, and then you can rest. I promise. Dr. Franklyn prompted.

Cassandra gathered what little strength she had left at the end of her lengthy labor and dug her heels into the bed. She bore down on the next contraction, and the head was out, with only long enough to inhale a deep breath, she continued to push until she had nothing left to give.

You did great, Mrs. Elkington. You can relax now, the Doctor passed the small bundle over to the assisting midwife to hold while they cleaned out the infant’s nose and mouth.

Cassandra held her breath, waiting to hear her baby cry. The instant the infant let out its first sounds to announce to the world of its arrival, she lifted her hands to take hold of her offspring.

Congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy, the Doctor announced as the nurse, and the midwife finished their duties of seeing to the afterbirth. They processed the details of the infant’s, weight – eight pounds, thirteen ounces, and Length – fifty-seven centimetres, documenting everything of importance in the moment of making history.

Elkington stood looking down at his son, as a sense of pride washed over him with how utterly perfect things were in every way. His son was healthy. Elkington counted quickly to confirm that he was perfect, finger and toes, legs, and arms. Body. Face… he frowned, narrowing his eyes.

Cassandra kissed her son’s forehead, You are the most perfect thing I have ever done in my life, little man, she chimed. Smiling up at her husband with eyes watery with emotion, she whispered, Thank you.

Hmm, Elkington hummed at his wife, unable to find any suitable words.

CHAPTER 1

1 92, you will do as I tell you.

He shook his head, I refuse to kill for you father, he bared his teeth in a snarl.

You will do as you’re told, or you will go without food for a week.

Fine, I’ll go without food then, 192 challenged knowing that his father couldn’t afford to have his most precious prototype look less than cared for. In the past several weeks, his father had paraded him in front of more military, mercenary, and backyard government dignitaries than he could keep count on.

His father could have sold him to every single visitor, except he wasn’t up for sale. 192 was the original, which made him the most valuable to Elkington and not because their D.N.A. was linked. That point was absolutely mute and completely irrelevant to his father.

192 knew that when he called Elkington, ‘father,’ that it roasted his father’s nuts, and when he refused to do as commanded, it chaffed his ass like sandpaper between his butt cheeks. It was a challenge he couldn’t resist, regardless of the outcome to himself. Sadly, his father had quickly figured out a way to make the lion roar.

192 couldn’t forgive himself if he let one of the other specimens suffer as a result of his refusal to do what his father ordered. So Elkington controlled 192 by threatening the others that were being held at the same site as him. What made it worse was that some of them were females. He’d made the foolish mistake of doubting the extent of his father’s brutality until he was forced to watch it first-hand. It still haunted him when he closed his eyes. It assaulted his memory when he thought about 294 being strapped down and injected with a drug designed to set your desire for sex on fire. The female specimen had begged to be fucked, until finally, Elkington gave one of his men the nod to proceed. 192’s chains clinked under the strain of him trying to break free. I’ll kill you for this, 192 snarled at the guard known as Fowler. If you touch her, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.

Fowler grabbed at his crotch, You and what army, freak?

I’ll do what you want, 192 looked at his father. Stop him.

You should have listened and done as you were told the first time. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. You will learn that for every time you disobey me, there will be someone else who suffers the consequences of your refusal to do as you are told. You might be able to withstand my discipline, but they will break you, Elkington pointed at 294 as Fowler positioned himself between her spread thighs and looked up into the two way mirror with a grin aimed to torment 192 as he buried his cock inside her begging body.

You will find and kill Fahid Massaud, or I will turn her into a play-toy for all of the guards.

Fine, I’ll do it.

Elkington clicked his fingers and the guards holding 192 in place, released him. He stood stock-still for several seconds as he considered all of his options. Finally, he chose to make good on his threat, even though it was already too late to save 294.

Firstly he killed both the guards in the room standing between him and the female in the room next door.

As Fowler withdrew his cock from 294’s pussy, he aligned himself with her puckered asshole to embed his cock. 192’s reflection suddenly appeared in the mirror in front of him. With his pants down around his ankles, it limited his movement, allowing 192 to twist his neck at just the right angle to snap the bastards spine in three places. It was all too quick, but dead was still ultimately dead, and 192 had no feelings on the subject what-so-ever when it came to the likes of Fowler.

He removed the straps holding 294 in place and scooped her up into his arms.

She made pleas for him to satisfy the burn, but he refused to touch her in that way. Before he could leave the room, the door was pulled shut, and the air vents began to hiss. 192 grabbed a blanket from the bed and forced 294 to stand while he covered her nakedness.

Hurry, we don’t have a lot of time, his tongue was already starting to feel thick. The full strength of the gas would render them unconscious within a matter of minutes. He knew this from previous experiences. 192 was the one they’d tested it on, time and time again until they knew it was effective and for how long it would keep them incapacitated. He began to count backward from ten. When he reached seven, 294’s legs gave way, and he helped the female to lay down on the floor. As he counted down to five, he fell backward, leaning his back against the wall. Three. Two. One… Lights out!

When 192 awoke, he was in the back of a van. They gave him a phone with a G.P.S. along with the co-ordinates to find his target. The phone rang, and he answered it, You will do as you’re trained to do. Find and kill Fahid Massaud and return to this location for pick up. I shouldn’t need to remind you about what’s at stake. Therefore, I suggest that you avoid getting caught at all costs. Oh, and don’t damage the hired help this time, or you won’t make it back here in time to save them all. For every hour past the deadline, one of the other specimens will suffer. Do I make myself clear? Elkington asked.

I understand exactly what you’re saying. So you can stop your grandstanding, 192 responded before disconnecting the call. He stomped his foot in the direction of the two guards who had delivered him to the area allocated as the designated drop zone. They scattered gravel under their feet in fear, as they ran to get back into the vehicle.

192 studied the G.P.S. for a moment before taking off at a jog in the direction of the person he’d been instructed to eliminate.

The time on the phone said it was currently 3:17 am, which told him he’d made good time in reaching his destination before the sun came up. 192 leaped up to balance on the stone fence surrounding the property. Seeing no immediate security triggers from his position, he jumped down. Landing in a crouch inside the boundary, he surveyed the exterior of the house to establish there was no movement on the grounds. He wondered if he’d been set up until a light illuminated a room on the lower level towards the rear of the premises.

192 was drawn to the light like a moth in search of a flame. He found a female standing with her arms raised out from her body. A vest was affixed to her torso, and the male with her stood between the female and the door. They seemed to be speaking in a dialect unfamiliar to him, but the image of them implied that the male was arguing with the female.

English Fahida, the male insisted.

This will never be my home, Fahida ascertained. Mustafa, you are determined to embrace a culture that is not ours. I am not like you. I don’t fit in, and I never will. You will let me go. You have no choice. If you don’t, I will take you and our children with me.

Fuck! It was a woman he was supposed to kill, 192 felt sick in the pit of his stomach. His father had failed to provide that vital piece of information on the kill. Regardless, if he didn’t neutralize the threat Fahida proposed, then his task at hand would be mute, and Elkington would systematically punish all of his people in retribution for not fulfilling his orders.

Fahida snatched up the keys on the desk and pushed past Mustafa, I have to go. They are expecting me.

Did we mean nothing to you? Mustafa asked, shocked at his wife’s dedication to a group of people who would see her as a second class citizen on her home soil.

You were a means to an end, Fahida confessed. It is my duty. I am honor-bound.

To kill yourself? What about the innocent people who will die because of your actions? Does it not matter to you that your children will never know their mother?

There is always a price to pay, and this will be mine. Now let me leave or so help me, I will bring every last brick down around us.

Fahida left her husband behind without so much as a kiss goodbye or a glance over her shoulder. Although it had been an arranged marriage, Mustafa wasn’t aware that his