The Chimera Vector: A Technothriller

By Nathan M Farrugia

Damien and Jay don’t exist. Officially.

Unofficially, they’re genetically engineered operatives with an impossible mission. One of their agency’s best operatives has gone rogue, and they’re sent to stop her.

But when Damien and Jay start to experience alternate memories and missing gaps in time, they realize there’s more to this mission than they were supposed to know.

And their hunt for the truth will take them to some dangerous places...

If you love conspiracies and covert ops, this book is for you.

What readers are saying:

★★★★★ "I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN. Nathan Farrugia is in a class by himself. You can’t help but enjoy this adventure."

★★★★★ "What an amazing series. Plenty of action, thrills, gut-wrenching pace, cool weapons/gadgets and well written story."

★★★★★ "Can I give this book 10 stars? It kept me on the edge of my seat from the first page to the last!"

★★★★★ "The Fifth Column series is a tour de force. This amazing series deserves a 5 star review."

★★★★★ "Really humorous, lots of action and the characters are so much fun. Loved it. Fast-paced, entertaining read."

★★★★★ "I picked up a copy of The Chimera Vector thinking it would be a standard adventure novel. I was wrong. From the sands of the Middle East to the streets of New York, Nathan Farrugia has taken the techno-action/spy novel pioneered by David Morrell and given it steroids."

★★★★★ "Farrugia weaves an amazing tale of power, deceit and double crosses. Espionage at its finest, intrigue that will tighten your gut and light every nerve on fire, The Chimera Vector goes far beyond science fiction and becomes a fast-paced mystery-thriller that defies early detection of where we are headed."

★★★★★ "This is going down as one of the best series I've read. And that's saying something. Filled with intense action with enough sci-fi and thriller to make me grin like I found the girl of my dreams."

★★★★★ "Loved it. High paced action thriller it definitely is. You think you know where it is going then the plot twists again. It really kept me turning the pages to see what was going to happen next."

★★★★★ "An excellent fast paced series that merges science, science fiction and adventure in one well written read that will make it impossible to put down."

★★★★★ "Oh. Wow. What a book. I found The Chimera Vector to be well written, thoroughly entertaining, and at times unbearably suspenseful. I was literally holding my breath."

★★★★★ "All the action that I really enjoyed in the first one and hoped would continue... the sequel blew that out of the ballpark. Amazing book, even better than the first, if that's possible! Love all the characters.”

★★★★★ “Be warned! This series is totally addictive. Don’t start this unless you’re ready for a wild action-packed ride."

About the author

Nathan M. Farrugia is an Australian technothriller writer, and author of the USA Today bestselling Helix and Fifth Column series. Nathan is known for placing himself in dangerous situations, including climbing rooftops in Russia and being hunted by special forces trackers in the United States. He studies Systema, a little-known martial art and former secret of Russian special forces.
Beyond his army training, Nathan has trained under USMC, SEAL team, Spetsnaz and Defence Intelligence instructors, and the wilderness and tracking skills of the Chiricahua Apache scouts and Australian Aboriginals.
Nathan is currently in Malta, co-writing the sequel to the critically acclaimed video game Metro Exodus by 4A Games.

Also by Nathan M. Farrugia:
Helix #1: Helix
Helix #2:

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anomaly Press
• Release date: May 14, 2012
• ISBN: 0995436169

Book preview

Credits

Chapter One

Sophia didn’t exist.

Officially.

Unofficially, she squeezed the trigger. The Minister of Defense’s head popped like a grape. She pulled the cocking handle back, releasing the empty shell, then drove it forward.

New round in the chamber.

Through the scope on her Steyr HS rifle, she shifted her aim to the parked motorcycle, now laden with explosives that her team had attached.

The Minister’s personal guards—Takavaran, Iranian Special Forces—scattered, searching for the shooter. She was using one of their issued weapons, but they wouldn’t find her from this range.

She fired again.

The 50-calibre round roared across downtown Tehran with the sound of a thunderclap.

The explosives detonated, tearing open the Minister’s car and shredding everything around it, including his body. A cloud of dust billowed outward.

Easy part was over. Now she had to extract.

Sophia pocketed her shell casings, then crawled back from the edge of the rooftop.

On the other side of the world, the Fifth Column were busy inventing a previously unknown terrorist group to claim responsibility for what Sophia hoped would be regarded as a suicide bombing.

The rifle’s bipod detached in seconds, but field stripping the weapon took a bit longer. She rolled up the rifle components in her sleeping bag and stuffed it into her backpack.

Her second in command, Damien, was waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs. He scratched his unshaven chin with the armband of his $5 imitation Ray-Bans.

He started for the elevator. ‘No sirens?’

‘That’s what worries me.’ Sophia fell in step behind him.

They took the elevator to the hotel’s first floor. The lobby was decorated with mosaic dolphins on the walls and a white spiral staircase that twisted up from the champagne marble floor. Serene piano played through tinny speakers and a concierge’s gaze lingered on her for a moment—had he heard the gunshot over the lobby music?—before attending to a new guest.

Sophia and Damien walked calmly out of the lobby.

Still no sirens.

Jay, the other member of her team, was leaning on the fence by the swimming pool, sporting a pair of the most offensive fluorescent green sunglasses he could find. Beside him was a row of battered motorcycles. Three were theirs—second-hand Honda 125s.

‘Bit quiet, isn’t it?’ He tossed her the keys.

They climbed on their bikes and disappeared.

Jay drove into the coal-black night.

Sophia had him behind the wheel of their civilian Land Cruiser, ferrying them across the Iranian desert with their motorcycles stowed in the back. Headlights off, interior lights off. Nothing but darkness and Jay’s thermogenic vision.

Sophia sat up front, her fingers drumming the handbrake, while Damien sat in the back, his hands likely glued to his carbine.

‘Will you relax?’ Jay asked.

‘When we’re across the border,’ she said.

They were dressed as civilians with a different cover story depending on who asked, but for this operation they were fitted very specifically with Takavaran-issued weapons. From the Austrian Steyr rifle she’d fired on the rooftop to the German HK53 carbines sitting between their legs, and down to the cloned pistols—a local variant of the SIG Sauer P226—jammed in concealed holsters inside their waistbands.

They needed to cross the border without being seen by anyone—neither Iranian nor American.

Jay switched the radio on, but was met only with static. Instead, he sang a song of his own.

‘Who’s the pineapple under the sea?’ Jay sang.

‘SpongeBob SquarePants!’ Damien answered.

Sophia sighed. ‘No, it’s who lives in a pineapple—’

Jay’s singing drowned her out. ‘Who died in an oil spill because of BP?’

‘SpongeBob SquarePants!’ Damien sang.

‘Stop,’ Sophia said.

They fell silent.

She did another sweep with her night vision monocular. Ahead, it was just flat, featureless desert and the distant lights of a town.

‘Watch that town,’ she said. ‘Go around.’

‘Yeah, I got it,’ he said.

But the light ahead wasn’t a nearby town at all. A Citroën sedan peeled from the night, heading straight for them. Its driver seemed oblivious to their presence.

‘Great,’ Jay said, taking a hard left.

Sophia wasn’t sure that was enough to get them clear. Soon, the sedan’s headlights would splash over them.

She peered once more through her monocular. ‘We can’t be seen. Not yet.’

‘They’re looking for us,’ Damien said, his voice low.

‘They can’t look for something that don’t exist,’ Jay said.

The sedan wasn’t close enough for Sophia to pick out the occupants’ features. Civilian? Military? One was bad news, the other was worse.

‘American?’ Damien asked, hopeful.

She wound down her window. ‘No, we’re too far.’

Damien released his seatbelt and shuffled to the right side, lowering his window as well. ‘Ready.’

The approaching sedan’s windows were up, but she could hear exotic stringed instruments and the undulating pitch of a female vocalist.

‘Go left, go left,’ Jay muttered. ‘Not this way.’

She used her monocular again. First, to check the charging handle on her carbine to make sure she hadn’t knocked it out of battery, and then to peer through the Citroën’s fogged windshield. It wasn’t easy, but she recognized the uniforms from the street she’d fired on today. Rifles in hands.

‘Takavaran,’ she said, extending the buttstock on her weapon.

‘We’re not armored,’ Damien said. ‘In case you forgot, we’re not armored.’

‘What’s the call, Soph?’ Jay asked.

‘Sophia, not Soph.’ She raised her carbine. ‘Line us up.’

‘You got it.’

The sedan’s back wheels kicked dust into the air, accelerating fast.

It was coming right for them.

Chapter Two

Sophia braced herself.

Jay pumped the brakes and pulled hard on the steering wheel. He swung the Cruiser to one side, lining her and Damien up perfectly with the Citroën as it roared past.

The HK53 was heavy in her grasp. She sighted the driver and opened fire. Her weapon kicked hard. The Citroën’s windscreen turned white.

Damien fired too, taking out the front passenger. Together, they put an extended burst into the soldiers in the back seat. It was over in seconds, leaving the sedan to rattle slowly into the darkness behind them.

Then silence.

Sophia changed mags, then opened the door. Damien stepped out in front of her, toggling the flashlight on his weapon and lighting the way. Sophia kept hers off while she stood behind him. Aiming over his shoulder, they advanced together, splitting off when they reached the Citroën. She toggled her flashlight and kept it painted on the destroyed windows, hoping to blind any survivors.

Jay’s footsteps weren’t far behind, but he would be focusing on the surrounding terrain with his thermogenic vision.

The rusty hood looked like it was covered in crushed rubies. Sticky and wet.

‘They’re toast,’ Damien said from the driver’s side, his breath fogging in the cold.

He indicated with his barrel to what was left of the two heads. In the back seat, three more heads, like split watermelons.

‘Jay, get an IED.’

‘You got it.’ He rushed back to their Land Cruiser.

She opened the back door on her side of the sedan. A young soldier fell out, face down. His body glistened red. She looked through at the other door as Damien opened it. Another soldier tipped sideways. Damien caught him mid-fall. His head lolled.

Trembling in the center of the back seat was—surprisingly, a woman—and more surprisingly, her head still intact. Her round face and white T-shirt were dotted crimson.

What the hell’s she doing in there?

Sophia nodded to Damien. He leaned in to grab her, but the woman resisted, clawing at him. He pulled her out and dropped her onto the dirt. She kneeled there, mumbling incomprehensibly.

‘She doesn’t count, does she?’ Damien asked. ‘The no witnesses thing.’

Before Sophia could respond, he nodded to her nine o’clock.

Another vehicle. Wider, higher. Humvee. Its headlights lit up the whole area, making her squint. It pulled up twenty meters short, hip-hop music rattling hillbilly armor. A shortage of armor kits had forced the soldiers to improvise with scrap metal.

‘What are they doing over the border?’ Damien asked.

‘Must’ve been nearby, heard the crash.’ Sophia said into her throat mike, ‘Jay, leave the IED.’

‘Copy that.’

She nodded at Damien. ‘You’re up.’

The music died. Four, no five, American soldiers—Marines, by the looks of things—climbed out and approached her team, dusted boots crunching on grit. They were dressed in desert camouflage, night-vision monocles flipped back on helmets. Their M4 carbines gleamed in the headlights of their Humvee.

Sophia took a step back and let Damien handle it.

Three marines approached, leaving two at the Humvee and one behind the wheel.

‘Lemme guess,’ the staff sergeant said. ‘They don’t know a stop sign when they see it?’

‘You boys are far from home, yeah?’ Damien said, standing in front of the Citroën so they couldn’t get a closer look. He spoke with a mild northeast England accent, as briefed.

‘Nah, see I think that’s you,’ the staff said. ‘Should I ask what you’re doing in our backyard?’

‘Rubicon Defense Services,’ Damien said. ‘Just passing through.’

One of the marines stepped around the kneeling, surviving woman and splashed a light into the vehicle. He didn’t look impressed.

‘Some passin’ through you did here,’ the marine said.

‘Haven’t seen mercenaries around here in a while, especially not Brits.’ The staff stepped around Damien, his gaze fixed on the vehicle. ‘You know you’re on the wrong side of the border.’

‘Yeah,’ Damien said. ‘We’re aiming to be on the right side soon … if it weren’t for those soldiers.’

The staff leaned in to inspect the vehicle, then scraped the stubble on his chin with a calloused hand. ‘Soldiers, huh?’

Damien stood his ground, but said nothing.

You need to say something.

The staff gave Sophia a polite nod. ‘Ma’am.’

‘Sergeant,’ she said.

‘Just the two of you mercs?’ he asked.

‘Contractors,’ Sophia said.

Sophia resisted the urge to glance back at their Land Cruiser. The Humvee had gone right past, leaving it completely in darkness.

The staff sergeant sidled up beside her, inhaling the cold air. ‘How about we shed some light on this here massacre, contractor?’ he said. ‘You were running behind schedule. Your friend here made a bad call out. You acted on that call out.’ He turned his head to see her reaction. ‘Is that a fair assessment?’

Sophia looked at the bodies slumped in the back seat. They weren’t Takavaran at all. Just civilians.

Shit.

She resisted the urge to swallow. Her best course of action right now was to flatter him. But not too much, he’d see through it.

‘Not much gets past you,’ she said.

‘A little bit of shrapnel, that’s all,’ he said. ‘Got rolled by bandits just south of here. Put half my squad in hospital and two of ‘em in the dirt.’

‘I hope they pull through,’ Sophia said.

‘They will.’ His lower lip jutted outward slightly—tobacco lodged in a wad between his lower teeth and lip. ‘If you want my goddamn honest opinion’—he gestured to the dead bodies in the back seat—‘you’re lucky they ain’t bandits. We’d be in a world of trouble right now.’

Sophia nodded. ‘We’re sorry for the mess.’

‘You know, back in the Middle Ages they had contract warfare. You have the cash, you can hire an army,’ the staff said. ‘They had niches in the marketplace where they became specialists. Just like today, right?’

‘I guess,’ she said.

Where are you going with this?

‘Rubicon mercs holed up with us … their specialty was kamikaze drones.’ The staff sergeant sucked on the tobacco under his lip. ‘So tell me, what’s yours?’

Sophia cleared her throat. ‘Make things look like an accident.’

He gestured to the Citroën. ‘You better get to work on that.’

With that, he slowly made his way back to the other marines. Except when he reached them, he turned on his heel.

‘You know, I did hear that Rubicon withdrew to Kirkuk a couple of days back. One of those tactical retrogrades,’ he said, lifting a hand off his weapon to gesture in air quotes. ‘So … just how behind schedule you runnin’, exactly?’

‘A few days,’ Damien said. His fingers were white over his carbine. If she could see it, they could too. ‘We ran into some resistance,’ he said.

‘Dangerous place you’re riding through,’ the staff said, turning and finally making his way to their Humvee.

Sophia forced herself to relax. But not too much.

‘Unsupervised mercs have a tendency to go AWOL around these parts,’ the staff called out. ‘And when they go AWOL, they become bandits.’

He stopped walking. So did his escorts.

Sophia held onto her carbine.

‘The thing about bandits is, they start taking things that don’t belong to them,’ the staff said, turning back around. ‘Shootin’ up civilians. Ambushing American soldiers.’

The two marines on either side of him stiffened.

‘Never did get them all.’ The staff sergeant leveled his weapon at Damien. ‘They were Brits though.’

Chapter Three

Open ground, nowhere to run.

Crack.

The sound reverberated through the night.

‘Contact!’ a marine yelled from the Humvee.

They’d see Jay’s gunshot through the Land Cruiser window and turn him to Swiss cheese. He had to get out of there. A vehicle door opened on the other side. Jay was relocating.

Sophia dropped to one knee and fired.

Silhouetted in the headlights, the staff sergeant stumbled and fell face-first onto the dirt road. Hard.

Sophia flattened out on her stomach, one leg bent. Damien did the same, dropping one of the marines with a short burst.

The staff sergeant was still alive, staring across the dirt at her. His mouth opened like a purse. Saliva, thick with tobacco, oozed down his chin.

Sophia ignored him and fired on the left-hand marine. A gust of wind howled past, filling her nostrils with gasoline and the coppery tang of blood. Rounds cracked past. One broke the sound barrier inches from her head with the snap of a bullwhip.

She squinted through the Humvee’s headlights and found her target. The third marine toppled onto one side, arms loose and gangly.

The staff sergeant reached slowly for his pistol, but his arm was trembling and he couldn’t grasp at his holster. Sophia put a round through his nose. He slumped, face down into the dirt, and lay there like a plastic figurine.

Sophia hit the pressel switch on her collar. ‘Three down. Are you there, Jay?’

‘Two down,’ Jay said. ‘Can’t see shit in the Humvee. Should be one more.’

‘I hear movement,’ Damien said.

It was the girl from the Citroën. She took off, but in the wrong direction. She ran between them and the Humvee.

Sophia rose into a crouch, only to watch gunfire tear through the girl. She slumped beside the dead staff sergeant, locks of hair blowing in the breeze.

Sophia fired into both headlights, bathing everything in darkness.

‘Front seat,’ Jay said. ‘Front seat!’

‘Pin him down,’ she said.

He opened fire, decorating the windshield with thick, white impacts the size of dinner plates—except they didn’t penetrate. But it was enough to cover her as she crossed open ground and circled around to one side of the Humvee. She could see the marine behind the wheel, side window down, reaching for his weapon.

Jay fired off some single shots, drowning out any sound that Sophia’s boots made. She closed the gap and realized he wasn’t reaching for a weapon at all, but a radio.

Then he saw her.

Wrangling his carbine over the steering wheel, she had only a second to close the gap. He drew his pistol instead—firing as his arm extended. The first round struck her. She felt the blow like a sledgehammer to her chest, sidestepped—gasped for breath—then came in beside him. She pulled his forearm down on the window frame. Bone shattered through the inside of his elbow. She cracked the stock of her carbine into the side of his neck. It struck his carotid sinus and sent a sudden surge of blood to his brain.

In an instant, his body’s self-defense kicked in, slowing his heart rate and dilating blood vessels to drop his blood pressure. She didn’t need to do much else except watch him slump forward, unconscious. His forehead hit the steering wheel and the horn blared.

Sophia’s nostrils burned with the smell of sweat and urine. She’d just killed half a squad of marines, and a local family caught in the wrong place at the wrong place.

‘Soph!’ Jay yelled over the horn.

A marine staggered to his feet, bloodshot eyes focused on her. He gripped his weapon in blood-coated hands—

There was no gunfire. Instead, he hunched over abruptly, eyelids twitching. Then collapsed.

Jay was behind him, teeth clenched, breathing heavily. He looked in pain. Sophia rushed over to find no blood. Jay was unscathed, but the marine’s flesh smelled burnt.

‘You zapped him?’ she asked.

Jay nodded, then dropped to his knees. He’d discharged a high-voltage electric shock, leaving him exhausted. She hauled him up over her shoulder and helped him to the Land Cruiser, propping him on the back seat.

Behind her, Damien methodically moved from body to body, checking their pulses. He stopped at the marine behind the wheel.

‘Uh, we have a problem,’ he said.

Sophia swapped to her only full mag. ‘Define problem.’

‘He called for reinforcements. They’re coming across the border now.’

Sophia exhaled, watching her breath fog into the night air.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘I think we’ll need two IEDs.’

Chapter Four

15 hours later

Sophia couldn’t remember anything.

Her throat burned and she couldn’t swallow. She was … somewhere brightly lit—too well lit, it stung her eyes. No vehicles, no gunfire. Had she been in a firefight?

She squeezed the trigger. The Minister of Defense’s head popped like a grape.

Was that a dream or a mission? She couldn’t remember. Instead, she was lying in a hospital bed while a pair of military police sergeants stood outside, their attention on a television in the opposite ward. She could see them through the curtains. One had a long, crooked nose and pencil-thin lips. The other was a few inches taller with flushed cheeks.

Her ward was empty, save for two beds on her left. She managed to turn her head in that direction. Beside her was a young, unshaven man. He had pale olive skin, dark greasy hair and a nose slightly too big for his face. Damien.

He didn’t look injured. But as he leaned against the bedhead, she saw the patient on the next bed. With even shorter hair, higher cheekbones and darker olive skin, Jay was hard to miss. There were quite a few Hispanic operatives, but Jay was Pardo: mixed-race Brazilian. At a stretch, he could pass for light-skinned Arabic, which made him a popular choice for Middle East operations.

‘They said Iranian missiles could hit the States in five years,’ the MP sergeant on the left said, speaking softly.

The sergeant on the right laughed. ‘Slow missile.’ His voice sounded like gravel.

Sophia tried to move her fingers but felt nothing. She could hear the news reporter talking on the television.

‘The United Nations representative for Human Rights was killed in a suicide bombing last night. The US Secretary of State said the bombing underlines the absolute moral bankruptcy and brutality of those who planned and executed it. A previously unknown terrorist group, the Holy Jihad Brigades, issued a statement claiming responsibility.’

Sounded more like a cover-up for an assassination. Sophia wouldn’t be surprised if the real culprit was an operative just like her.

Her memories shifted like a prism.

She squeezed the trigger. The United Nations’ representative’s head popped like a grape.

‘Who do they think…’ Damien’s voice croaked from beside her. ‘What did we do out there?’

She could remember now, but it was all wrong. The events were different, the faces were different, the people were different. Even lying down, she felt dizzy.

She opened her mouth, pulling dry lips apart. ‘I don’t know.’

‘We made it over the border,’ Damien said, under his breath. ‘I remember that part.’

‘Where are we now?’ she asked.

Damien rubbed his eyes. ‘Looks like Camp Anaconda.’

‘My anaconda don’t want none.’ Jay started rapping to himself. 

‘Or Joint Base … whatever it’s called now,’ Damien said. ‘Seriously Jay, stop.’

Sophia’s gaze wandered to the MPs posted outside. ‘They’re guarding us. That’s not a good sign.’

‘Hey.’ Damien leaned over to whisper. ‘Did we plant the IEDs?’

Her arms and legs tingled. ‘I don’t know.’

The Iranian girl slumped to the ground, locks of hair blowing in the breeze.

Whatever sedatives she’d been given, they were starting to wear off. Her fingers flexed when she told them to. The fog was beginning to clear from her mind and something inside her was convinced she had to get away from here.

Struggling to sit upright, she looked at the vital signs monitor beside her. It was measuring her pulse rate, blood pressure and respiratory rate. She knew as soon as she detached the wires from her body it would start beeping, alerting the MPs. But right now they were adequately entertained with the latest celebrity breakup.

Jay stood and peeled tape from the needle in the back of his hand. Sophia whispered for him to stay down, but as usual he didn’t listen. She could already see a blood-pressure cuff hanging loosely from his right arm.

Jay removed it and quickly wrapped it around Damien’s arm. The monitors didn’t have a chance to beep.

Damien caught Sophia’s gaze with large hazel eyes. He held a finger to his lips.

Sophia used sign language to say to Damien, What are you doing, idiot? She didn’t know the sign for ‘idiot’ so finger-spelled it instead.

Damien nodded, then turned his attention to Jay, who had just clipped a pulse oximeter onto Damien’s fingertip. One by one, Jay peeled the electrodes from his body, transferring them immediately to Damien, right next to Damien’s own electrodes. Jay’s vital signs monitor hadn’t beeped yet.

Commercial break.

The first MP was pacing now. His crooked nose strayed dangerously into view and then moved away.

Barefoot, Jay hobbled from the end of his bed to Damien’s, then to Sophia’s. He paused, his gaze locking with hers. He held his hand out, palm down, indicating for her to wait.

She shook her head. No. But Jay was already staggering for the ward entrance, his movements unsteady and sluggish. She peeled the tape from her own needle. She couldn’t just sit here and wait for Jay to screw up.

Jay half-collapsed against the wall. Sophia could hear his heavy breathing. The second MP paced inside, eyes narrowed and complexion chalk white. His eyes widened when he saw them awake.

Jay was behind Chalky, limbs moving simultaneously: knee into the back of Chalky’s thigh, hand slamming into his shoulder blades just to the right of the spine, and the other hand pulling his left shoulder back. All three movements sent the MP in a counterclockwise spin to the floor.

Sophia pulled the needle from her arm and got to her feet. Crooked Nose stormed into the ward, chest puffed, to find Chalky lying on his stomach and Jay staggering over him.

Crooked Nose drew his pistol. ‘Turn around!’ he yelled. ‘On the floor!’

Jay wasn’t anywhere near close enough to attack the armed marine.

Crooked Nose eyed Sophia. ‘Hands where I can see them, princess!’

Sophia raised her arms. Dizziness burned through her. She tried to remain upright and not pass out. A slight glance over her shoulder showed Damien lying in bed, eyes closed.

Chalky pulled himself to his feet while Crooked Nose mumbled into his radio. ‘Echo Five Charlie to Echo Five Golf, we need assistance in Ward Three East Eighteen to Twenty Four, over.’

Jay was on the ground between the two MPs. Chalky kicked him in the ribs and Jay grunted in pain, folding into a fetal position.

‘Limbs spread!’ Chalky said.

Jay spread his arms and legs, but kept one knee slightly bent. Sophia knew why.

‘Echo Five Charlie to Echo Five Golf, patients trying to escape,’ Crooked Nose said into the radio. ‘One patient, aggressive behavior, attempted assault. Patient restrained, over.’

Sophia’s mouth felt dry. All she could think about was Crooked Nose’s bony finger resting on the trigger of his M9 pistol. A bead of sweat trickled down his skewed nose, hung from the tip. Sophia waited for it to drop. The wait seemed eternal.

Crooked Nose’s attention shifted to Jay. ‘Five minutes. Let’s get this joker tied up.’

He held his pistol in one hand and dug into a pouch for plasticuffs. Crouching, he wrapped one of Jay’s legs with a pair, then moved to straighten his bent leg. Chalky was standing in front of Jay, near his hands.

Jay moved quickly. He grabbed Chalky’s nearest boot with one hand and clamped behind his knee with the other. He pulled sharply. Chalky’s body twisted to one side and he dropped to his knees. As he went down, he tried to smash his pistol into Jay’s face. It glanced off Jay’s arm.

Chalky straddled Jay’s head. Jay pulled his hand back and punched Chalky in the testicles. Hard. Chalky cried out in the highest pitch Sophia had ever heard from a grown man. He waved his pistol, trying to aim at Jay’s head.

Crooked Nose moved for a clear shot. They were prepared to shoot. That wasn’t good news. Sophia ripped off her blood-pressure cuff. She had to do something.

Jay ran his hand down Chalky’s firing arm. He wrapped his right hand over Chalky’s and took control. At the same time, he hit Crooked Nose’s neck with the edge of his other hand, then smeared an open palm over his face, fingers into his eye sockets.

Meanwhile, Crooked Nose heard Sophia’s machines wailing. He aimed his pistol at her, but she’d already snatched the pillow from her hospital bed and thrown it in his direction. It was big and slow, but he still had to sidestep it. By the time he had, she was under his pistol.

Thumb tucked under her palm, she brought her hand around in a smooth arc. Its inner edge crushed his windpipe. With his pistol-holding arm poised over her shoulder, she pivoted on her heels, turning her back to him. She grabbed his hand, clamped over the pistol and brought it down hard. His arm snapped over her shoulder. She thrust her elbow back, catching him in the ribs. He couldn’t breathe. She turned in time to see him collapse to his knees.

On her left, Jay had one hand over Chalky’s face and the other over Chalky’s pistol. He pulled the pistol’s aim away from Sophia, toward Crooked Nose, then rolled Chalky’s head back, disrupting his balance and throwing him off his feet. Jay crouched behind him, pistol pointed at Crooked Nose.

Sophia’s machines were still beeping.

She glared at Jay. ‘Don’t.’

He squeezed the trigger. The shot echoed into the corridor.

Not ideal.

There was a sickening snap. Chalky’s neck.

‘We have three or four minutes,’ Sophia said. ‘At most.’

Damien was on his feet, his and Jay's machines creating a symphony of beeps and wails.

Jay grabbed the clipboard from the end of Damien’s bed. ‘Four milligrams of lorazepam and four of haloperol … ololol.’ He discarded the clipboard. ‘What the hell?’

Damien removed his needle while Jay checked the window. Dawn was about to break.

‘Do you think Denton can pull some strings?’ Damien said.

Sophia shook her head. ‘This one’s on us.’

She checked Damien’s clipboard. Antipsychotic and strong sedative. Potent amnesic effects. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d done something horrible. Killed people she shouldn’t have.

The clipboard said the drugs had been administered to Private Esposito: Damien’s cover surname. She checked her own clipboard. It had her own cover name and the same drugs.

‘What are they doing to us?’ Jay said. He checked the rounds in Chalky’s pistol, then dragged the MP behind a bed curtain.

Damien took the clipboard from Sophia. ‘They’re not messing around.’

‘Full moon out there,’ Jay said. ‘They’ll see us a mile off.’

Sophia untied the string from Damien’s hospital gown and pulled it off him. ‘Get changed. Now.’ Her tongue felt like cotton as she spoke.

Damien, naked, glared at her. ‘Was that necessary?’

‘Yes.’ Sophia checked the clock on the wall. ‘Get changed. After what we’ve done, there’s a very real chance we’ll be—

‘Someone else’s fertilizer?’ Jay asked.

‘Not quite how I was going to put it,’ Sophia said, ‘but we need to get as far away from here as possible.’

‘And then what?’ Damien asked.

Sophia licked her dry lips. ‘Then we try to stay alive.’

‘I like that plan,’ Jay said. ‘The not-dying part is appealing.’

Sophia indicated Crooked Nose’s limp body sprawled on the floor. ‘You have sixty seconds. Time for dress-ups.’

Damien relieved Crooked Nose of his desert-cam trousers while Jay got busy fleecing Chalky of his uniform. They each strapped a tactical vest over the top. Unfortunately, the MPs weren’t wearing any armor. As if to make up for it, Jay snatched Chalky’s twelve-inch fighting knife.

Sophia pulled a hip flask from Chalky’s pouch. It was half full. She tossed it to Damien and checked the clock again. ‘Time’s up.’

‘What about your uniform?’ Jay said. ‘We only have two.’

‘That’s all you need,’ she said. ‘You’re escorting me out of the hospital.’

Damien and Jay marched Sophia through the hospital.

Jay took a sharp left, breaking formation. He’d found an exit. He pulled Sophia by the arm, out under a canopy. Damien kept on her other shoulder, and together they marched her under a grammatically incorrect sign, HERO’S HWY, barely visible in the moonlight.

‘I’ll find us wheels,’ Jay said, taking longer strides.

Almost there.

Before Jay could take another step, a pair of tan-colored Land Cruisers pulled up in front of him.

He was out in the open.

Sophia did the only thing she could do. Dressed in her hospital gown, she crouched in the canopy’s shadows. Damien did the same, keeping low beside her. As long as no one walked into the canopy, they’d go unnoticed.

Acting naturally, Jay nodded to the marines as they climbed out of the 4x4s. But instead of returning the nod, they aimed their weapons.

Chapter Five

‘Hands in the air!’ one of the marines yelled.

Jay had nowhere to run.

Under the moonlight, Sophia noticed the three chevrons and rocker on the shoulder of one marine. Staff sergeant.

Sophia couldn’t tell if it was a dream or a memory, but she had the distinct memory of watching another staff sergeant die. He slumped, face down into the dirt, and lay there like a plastic figurine.

‘I called it in!’ Jay yelled, showing his open hands. ‘They took the other corporal hostage.’

The marines slowly lowered their carbines.

Jay pointed left, down the road. ‘They took a Cruiser that way. They’re in stolen uniforms.’

‘Can you ID them?’ the staff said.

Jay shook his head. ‘Only seen the back of their heads. They’re in that Cruiser at the rear.’

The staff called to his marines, ‘Cruiser at the rear of the line! Move!’

Jay was so busy watching the marines run for the base’s entrance that he bumped into one of them. But Sophia knew why. The soldier just happened to be the driver, and carried his carbine right-handed. Magazine catch button above the trigger. She saw Jay press the catch, saw the magazine drop into his hand. The marine didn’t even realize. Jay apologized for bumping him and kept walking.

Sophia shook her head. Now he was just showing off.

Jay called out to the marine, his breath pluming in the night air. ‘Hey! Your mag!’ She saw the marine’s face flush.

Jay handed him the mag, then moved closer to point at the magazine. ‘Make sure it’s in tight.’

Sophia watched Jay’s other hand run his stolen knife under the marine’s right hip pocket. The 4x4’s ignition was on the right so the keys would be pocketed with the right hand. Jay had probably pushed his hip against the pocket when he bumped the marine, just to be sure they were there.

A ring of keys dropped from the sliced pocket into Jay’s hand. He curled it into a fist so the keys wouldn’t jingle, then watched with mild curiosity as the marines ran for the base’s entrance.

Damien got up and moved for the 4x4. Sophia followed him, trying to walk as naturally and purposefully as possible. The marines had run on foot to the base entrance and she could see why, it wasn’t far away. But now it would be even more difficult to get past them.

Jay was in the driver’s seat, key in the ignition. Damien was a few steps ahead of Sophia, jumping in the front. Sophia took the back, hoping no one saw her.

The eight-cylinder engine growled. The tires were run-flat and the sides were layered in level B-6 vehicular armor. At this rate, they were going to need it.

Jay put the 4x4 into first. ‘Which way?’

They were facing an exit eight kilometers ahead. Beyond it, the twilight revealed a main road and bridge. It would’ve been a possible escape route, had there not been a couple of armored Cruisers in the way and—thanks to Jay throwing the marines off their scent—a whole bunch of armed marines going haywire at each other.

Out Sophia’s window, another dusty road. Too much traffic up ahead. She looked behind them. The road stretched on, flanked by concrete walls for a distance. Right into the heart of the base.

‘Turn us around,’ she said.

She noticed a disposable cigarette lighter sitting in front of the stick shift. She pointed to it. ‘Damien, hand me the lighter.’

Damien passed it to her while

Reviews for The Chimera Vector

[ralphd00d-325171 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received a free copy of this ebook from the author.

Not a bad thriller/action story! I would say it is very similar to Matthew Reilly's Scarecrow series, and maybe even close to Boyd Morrison's Tyler Locke series. The action moves along at a fast pace, and even though our main characters seem to always have the luck of things on their side, it still kept my interest to read to the end. Lots of room to expand more on background history of the The Fifth Column and its' agents (good or bad). I see that there are two other novels int his series, so I am sure I will be checking out the next one soon!

[angelajmaher · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It was a pleasant surprise to see a female lead character in a book like this. She is strong, but with realistic vulnerabilities, and believable. The other characters could have been fleshed out a bit more, but perhaps they'll get their turn in future parts of the series.The action is fast paced and violent, without being gratuitous. I'm not a big reader of this genre, so the unfamiliar names of weapons were a distration at times, although it must lend a realism to the work.The 'universe' this book is set on has great detail, but sometimes there is too much information revealled too quickly, so although it's not a short book, it may have benefitted from being a little longer. Again it's an issue that might be resolved with the addition of the next book(s) in the series.Overall this is an original and interesting action novel.

[ginafava · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Australian thriller-writer Nathan Farrugia packs a punch with his techno-thriller novel The Chimera Vector, the first in a series featuring a rogue black op with a past that comes back to smack her down.

The novel crosses genres as a sci-fi/espionage/techno-thriller with a socio-political message. So, be prepared to have your mind blown. Mine was, and I loved every minute of it.

The story opens thick with action, so the reader is plunged right into the deep end. The pace continues, with enough time to come up for air and learn some background on the main characters. The protagonist, Sofia, a smart bad-ass with brains and brawn, ala Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and ala Bridget Fonda in Point of No Return, is well-written and rings true throughout the story. Her fellow team of trained assassins, ala Bourne Identity, is sufficient. The author dabbles in their pasts, but their development left me wanting to know more. (Perhaps something to look forward to as the series continues?)

The antagonist, Sofia’s “creator” and employer, The Fifth Column, is an extremely powerful organization that rises above other terrorist villains–a villain without borders, that wreaks havoc and tension in the world for its own gains by manipulating other governments, terrorist organizations, and world leaders like pawns in a chess game of war and money. The Fifth Column is led by an amped-up psychopath, ala Hitler or Bin Laden, but with grander vision and better engineered DNA.

The overarching premise is superb, but since the reader learns of it via twists and turns, I’d rather not state it outright. Honestly, when the reader is confronted with the blunt realization of the Fifth Column’s true objective, as well as the conundrum in which Sofia and her rogue team find themselves in dealing with the objective, the whole book is taken to another level. It moves beyond the Matt Reilly-esque action-thriller into a Crichton-esque world-view novel. Or perhaps akin to Orwell’s 1984, where the puppet-strings future is NOW.

The author does a great job of showcasing his military background in the weaponry and tactics he employs, and the “warrior soldier” he describes is very Joe Finder-esque in its execution. For me, however, about half-way through the book, some of the jargon becomes a bit tedious, especially when I really want to concentrate on what the character feels about the situation at hand, as opposed to how he or she reacts to it with another fight scene.

I enjoyed the varied twists and turns in the plot, but about three-quarters of the way through the book, I felt as if the story might teeter on the brink of losing some of its credibility with a few too many plot twists. However, as the story left me feeling satisfied with the resolution, I got past it, because the thrill of the ride was worth it. The climax was explosive and gratifying, and I finished the book with a strong urge to read more about these characters. I’m thrilled to report that there is a sequel, entitled The Seraphim Sequence. Also, the author is hard at work on the third in the series.

I’d recommend this novel to thriller readers looking for non-stop action sequences, involving hard-core operatives with heart and brains who oppose amped-up psychopaths with bad-ass agendas, and a novel rich with a premise that’s shocking and thought-provoking.

[troyka-3 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Oh now this was fun.
This was a great yarn, with some good twists, I was excited by the story and kept reading late into the night.
It has some good action and interesting plot the kind of thing you would like if your into adventures thrills and serious action.

[rinkugeeyo · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Overall I enjoyed the book. I especially enjoyed the action sequences.
The bonding depicted between Sophia, Damien and Jay was great.

[tproth · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

If any sci-fi, spec-ops, conspiracy theory junkies do not get excited about this book they need to see a doctor and get their heart re-started. This was a very exciting, engrossing book. At times I found myself rushing just to see what was on the next page. Unfortunately that means a reread in the future because I think I missed some stuff. Great job Nathan!

[areadingmachine · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Like many here I was contacted by the author because I like Matthew Reilly. I thought from the start it was an interesting way to find readers as you will obviously get people who like that genre but who ever you compare yourself with you are then going to be judged against.

I started reading with high hopes as I have not been reading much military action recently and didn't like Reillys last two books which were not so action packed, so felt this may be similar to his early work. It started well with some nice action and I was enjoying it. I didn't know who anyone was, and the characters themselves, seem to have trouble figuring out who people are due to their condition so there was a lot of confusion.

I'm sorry that I could not read the whole thing but I had to stop because I was 20% of the way in and still had little to no idea who the characters were. I enjoyed the initial action but I didn't care or know anything about anyone and if I want that I will watch The Expendables.

[soireadthisbooktoday · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Chimera Vector is special. A heart-pounding blend of science fiction and thriller, the story line grabs your attention at the first and doesn't let go. Not only does the story provide all the action and thrills that I love in a book of this sort, Farrugia knows his stuff when it comes to genetic manipulation, world governments, secret organizations, and the human need for power and wealth above all else.

Imagine the horror of waking up one day to discover that everything you thought was real was a lie - that instead of being the good guy, you find out that you are the monster under the bed. The horror destined to change the fate of the world. And truly, not in a good way. Hidden agendas, terrorism disguised as patriotism, genetic manipulation and deadly viruses (oh, my!) and plots within plots make this a lively and breathtaking read.

As some have said, there is a comparison to be drawn between Rollins and Farrugia. The action and adventure and edge of the seat thrills are definitely there. I would agree, however, that Rollins is in a class of his own when it comes to this genre. As this was Farrugia's first book, before The Searphim Sequence: The Column 2, I will have to see how the next one goes to see how much closer he gets to that Rollins ideal. As the reviewer on Amazon identified as "lifeguard48" stated, there is a very "Manchurian Candidate" vibe. I would add in a heavy dose of Huxley, a smidge of "Gattica" and a bow to Methuselah's Virus. Toss in a bit of Crichton and le Carre and you have a book with all the energy of a triple shot of espresso with a side of terror.

This is a great book. If you like action, check it out! Recommended.

[mecaza-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Great plot, breath taking fight scenes ( due to the author's background ) but a bit lacking on the characterisation. I like to get know the characters (be it love them or hate them) and only one of them really came through for me.

[gttexas · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mile a minute thrills never let up. If anything, it's too much of a good thing.