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The Resilient: Between the Forejudged
The Resilient: Between the Forejudged
The Resilient: Between the Forejudged
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The Resilient: Between the Forejudged

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When foes become allies against a common threat, a level of trust must be granted. Unity in the face of destruction...


War! Even after the fall of the Defiant safe house, the remnant of the Red Rider loyalists have risen u

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 5, 2023
ISBN9781732921672
The Resilient: Between the Forejudged
Author

Adam K. Ogden

dam K. Ogden is an independent author of fiction novels. His works span multiple genres, including science fiction, action adventure, thrillers, and more. He began his writing career after a dream spawned the creation of his debut series The Resilient. Penning the series ignited a passion for storytelling. As an Engineering graduate from Louisiana Tech, his background centers not on writing but on research. This is applied to his works of fiction, weaving real life in to even the most wildest fantasies.Fans of Adam K. Ogden range from all ages and backgrounds. With universal themes and true-to-life characters, there is something for everyone in his works. With elements of suspense worked through seamlessly into his stories, they are a fun thrill ride from start to finish that are hard stop.You can follow Adam K. Ogden on Facebook at (www.facebook.com/AdamKOgden) or at his website (www.adamkogden.com) for the latest news and updates for his upcoming books and events.

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    The Resilient - Adam K. Ogden

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events contained therein are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to any events, places, or persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

    © 2023 by Adam K. Ogden

    All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, including the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher. Such is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Prior written permission must be obtained.

    Published by Breakpoint Publishing, LLC,

    www.breakpointpublishing.com

    Breakpoint Publishing and associated logos are trademarks of

    Breakpoint Publishing, LLC

    Front Cover Design by Adam K. Ogden

    © 2023 by Adam K. Ogden

    www.adamkogden.com

    ISBN-13: 978-1-7329216-6-5

    ISBN-10: 1-7329216-6-5

    When foes become allies against a common threat, a level of trust must be granted. Unity in the face of destruction…

    Prologue

    Case Number: 538617

    File: 116-C

    Asset ID: Nine

    Mission Debriefing. Statement of Asset Nine regarding Absence and Failed Capture of Michael Anderton.

    My name is Trent Allister, Asset ID Number Nine. I use my name freely and of my own accord for this account and swear that all information henceforth is accurate to the best of my recollection.

    Approximately six years ago, I was assigned a joint mission with Asset Six. We were to locate and apprehend targets Michael Anderton and Cade Simon for reasons withheld. Upon locating Anderton in the Forbidden Zone, I discovered a family harbored with him. Due to the circumstances, I received new orders from Command. I was told to use my cover to influence Anderton to go to the rendezvous point alone. My mission at that point became to remove the threat of potential hostiles. Although, since this record will not be made public, I will speculate he meant witnesses. At the time, Anderton was not considered a threat to national security.

    Before I could complete this mission, Anderton returned to the Forbidden Zone. He had been treated with Amnesiac. He had no memory of any events between leaving the zone and his return. With my cover maintained, I continued to monitor him. I tried to contact Command to clarify my orders, but my method of communication no longer worked. I was left in radio silence. Per protocol, I remained with Anderton at my last point of contact, awaiting transport. Regretfully, I was unaware that Command didn’t authorize missions within the Forbidden Zone. I was also unaware that Anderton had escaped custody with the help of the rebel group Defiant. I was under the assumption he had been released.

    During my exile, I looked for Federal Police patrol within a ten-mile range. I thought I could reestablish communication with Command. There was no patrol in the area, and as stated before, I believed I was following protocol by remaining there.

    I would like the record to show that my time there wasn’t without merit. The lack of Federal Police presence meant an increased amount of terrorist activity. Just inside my search radius, at a range of about eight miles from Anderton’s home, I encountered a convoy. At first, I believed them to be Federal Police, but I quickly realized their vehicles had been stolen. The roads they used were well traveled. The vegetation had been trampled down and deep ruts were cut where there was no remaining pavement. I saw a similar convoy on three separate occasions, although I went to that place often. I’m not sure where they were coming from or where they were going. Nor can I tell you if Anderton or his companions ever contacted them. What I can say is that each time I saw them, they were hauling barrels north. Several of them.

    My last trip there, the Federal Police had discovered the route. They captured a few terrorists from the convoy. I was able to reach out to those officers, and after much convincing, used them to contact Command. I can elaborate further on what I saw of the convoy if necessary, but I don’t know what happened after that. I was given new orders to get Anderton to Secretary Myers.

    Case Number: 615732

    File: 3

    Name: Colonel Rothem, Jeremy

    Mission Debriefing. Discovery of Terrorist Payload.

    I sent a platoon on a recon mission in Sector Ten. Aerial surveillance picked up something suspicious. An old prisoner transport route still looked fresh. It’s a classic terrorist move. They try to disguise it, rustling leaves around, fluffing the grass back up. But you can’t hide fresh dirt, especially when something big drives across it. My pilots look for that sort of thing. It’s why we’ve been successful in finding so many of their little encampments.

    The platoon reported back two flatbed trucks. Each carried a half dozen barrels give or take. Five terrorists accompanied them. Two drivers, two passengers, and one on foot hiding their activity. There were enough of them to unload the barrels themselves, but experience told me they were delivering them somewhere. I deployed three more platoons to search along the route, looking for an encampment. As of now, we haven’t located one.

    The barrels they were hauling were interesting. They were marked for delivery to Agridemesne. One of the distribution centers. I’ll need to refer to my notes for the exact one. The barrels were never opened. My team believes they were stolen from a transport truck. The terrorists were probably hoping to find food. But they should have opened them. The barrels would have done them no good. The contents were sent to Agridemesne for analysis. Nothing more than the basis for a chemical wash they use on their produce. Supposedly, it helps to eliminate pesticides and keeps them fresh. On its own, none of my experts can find any use for it. I can confirm there’s no way it can be used as a weapon.

    Not finding any encampments or a reason for them to transport those barrels, I sent the redacted files to the proper channels. As far as the Federal Police are concerned, we consider this case closed.

    Case Number: 616951

    File: 1

    Asset ID: Nine

    Official Investigative Request. Distribution Center #3, Agridemesne.

    This is an official request to investigate Distribution Center #3 for terrorist activity. I’ve spoken directly with Colonel Hempton about the matter, but he asked for it in writing.

    I’ve read over Colonel Rothem’s case file (CASE: 615732) about the terrorist convoy I witnessed. His report stated that there were only twelve barrels recovered from the convoy. As I’ve stated in another report, I saw the convoy three times carrying the same type of barrels.

    After reviewing the file, I found the destination for those barrels was Distribution Center #3 in Agridemesne. The first distribution center that was shut down, beginning a string of others. I’ve included an excerpt from that case file (CASE: 531221) in this request. With both cases involving the same center, I believe there is a link.

    Distribution Center #3 was shut down because of the discovery of a foreign substance. It contaminated a significant portion of the lettuce, cucumber, and broccoli lines. However, cross-contamination has also affected the supply of grains like wheat and corn. For this reason, the center halted all production of those lines. This appears to be an incidental matter. Random quality checks of supermarkets have not discovered any traces of the substance. No recalls have been issued.

    For public safety, Chancellor Smithe ordered the incineration of all products containing the substance. All samples will be evaluated by agents of the FDA and the chief of medicine.

    Based on the information provided, it appears the contamination originated with produce. The same as the chemical found in the terrorists’ possession. I would like to go to the source of the substance discovered. Although the products have long since been destroyed, I’d like to follow up with the FDA and compare the samples with the chemical.

    Case Number: 616951

    File: 6-F

    Asset ID: Nine

    Interview with FDA Agent Jen Larue. Transcribed from recording. Distribution Center #3, Agridemesne.

    NINE:

    Thank you for meeting with me, Agent Larue.

    LARUE:

    I don’t know that I would call it a meeting. Who did you say you were again?

    NINE:

    Agent… Harry Verman with Homeland Security… An ironic name, I know. I get that a lot. My father had a strange sense of humor.

    LARUE:

    Homeland? That explains the cloak and dagger sneaking around. What did we do this time?

    NINE:

    Nothing. I like to get a feel for the place. I’m here to ask you about the shutdowns that happened about eight years ago.

    LARUE:

    The shutdowns? I thought that case was closed.

    NINE:

    It is, but the HSA has an interest in a similar case. Classified, of course. What can you tell me about what happened here?

    LARUE:

    According to the reports, a substance was found—

    NINE:

    I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could tell me something I couldn’t read in a report.

    LARUE:

    … I’m not sure.

    NINE:

    How long have you worked for the FDA?

    LARUE:

    I was here for the shutdowns, if that’s what you mean. But I’m not sure I can say anything. They’re keeping it all very hushed.

    NINE:

    Not from the HSA. Not when it involves national security. What do you know about the substance?

    LARUE:

    That calling it a substance is a fancy way of hiding what it really was. They found a virus!

    NINE:

    What type of virus?

    LARUE:

    That I can’t answer because I don’t know. Some people were here snooping around, not unlike you, as a matter of fact. And before you ask, I don’t know what for. But they discovered the virus after it had passed final inspection.

    NINE:

    Do you still have samples of the virus? I read they were sent to the FDA.

    LARUE:

    They were supposed to be, but you know how these things go. Once they discovered it was a virus, Chancellor Smithe had all the samples sent to whoever his people are.

    NINE:

    I see.

    LARUE:

    I know you can’t tell me about your investigation, but is there another virus outbreak here? Is this about the terrorist’s curse? I’ve been seeing it more on the news.

    NINE:

    I certainly hope not. I have one more question for you, Agent Larue. Do you know what this chemical compound is?

    LARUE:

    This I’m very familiar with. The FDA is in charge of regulating it. It’s the basis of our produce wash, which is supposed to kill any viruses on it. It’s a combination of things. Decyl glucoside, sodium citrate, calcium ascorbate, glycerin. We mix it with water, vinegar, and citric acid to clean off the pesticides and microbes.

    NINE:

    You said glycerin. Could that be used to create nitroglycerin?

    LARUE:

    As in the explosive? I… I don’t think so. It would take barrels upon barrels of it to get enough glycerin out of it. Then you would also need truckloads of fertilizer to have enough nitric acid.

    NINE:

    You seem to have extensive knowledge on the subject.

    LARUE:

    They make us take training courses since we have some of the ingredients. This is farming country, so there’s not a short supply of fertilizer.

    NINE:

    Thank you, Agent Larue. I’ll be in touch.

    Case Number: 616951

    File: 5

    Asset ID: Nine

    Map of Distribution Center #3 Highlighting Key Areas of Potential Interest

    In this case file, I’m including an annotated layout of Distribution Center #3.

    File: 5-A

    Document: First Floor Layout – Center #3

    Virus’ Path and Reach through Distribution Center from Intake to Shipping

    File: 5-B

    Document: SE Corner Produce to Cold Storage

    Location of Puretanix Storage and Quality Control labs

    File: 5-C

    Document: FDA Offices – First Floor

    Location of Contact and Points of Interest

    Case Number: 616951

    File: 14

    Asset ID: Eighteen

    Investigation of Viral Substance and its Origin. Distribution Center #3, Agridemesne.

    Per orders by Colonel Hempton, case number 616951 has been reopened. This is in response to the recent outbreak of the Anderton virus. Asset Nine believed Agridemesne to be the origin of the neuro-virus commonly known as the terrorist’s curse. The theory was never proven. The investigation was still ongoing at the time of the accident involving Asset Nine and Michael Anderton. I cannot comment here on Anderton’s role in the accident or his connection to the outbreak. Those investigations are occurring independently of this one. What I can comment on are the notes found on Asset Nine’s person after it happened.

    Asset Nine had just conducted a second interview with Agent Jen Larue of the FDA. Unfortunately, the recording of that interview was lost in the crash. According to his notes, they discussed how the virus could have gotten through the distribution center. Nine reported it originating from a chemical wash used on produce named Puretanix. In practice, Puretanix is used to eliminate harmful substances from foods. Nine’s theory was that the barrels were switched before arriving at the distribution center, leaving it ineffective.

    I intend to follow up on this theory. But there’s something in the report that keeps bothering me. The way the virus was found doesn’t add up. Larue said there were people at the distribution center already looking into something unrelated. I’ve went through every record I could find from the Federal Police, Homeland, and the CIA. Even documents that were so redacted they might as well have been blank. There were no investigations happening at Distribution Center #3 during that time. None were documented at any of the other centers either. Whoever found it wasn’t there on official business.

    Then there was Chancellor Smithe… As soon as it was revealed to be a virus, he stepped in and buried any further investigation. I tried to track down the samples from the reports, but they don’t exist. From that point forward, everything leads to a dead end.

    I know how things work in the United State Federation. I’m not pointing fingers at the chancellor or any other government official. I only include it in this report because it is factual. Chancellor Smithe ended all inquiries into the discovery of the virus. Personally, I can understand why. The terrorist’s curse was still an emerging threat at that time. The war hadn’t long ended. It would have been in the public’s best interest to not incite panic. The Federation couldn’t afford to lose the public’s trust after everything that happened.

    But this is not factual. This is my subjective opinion. I’ve made it part of this report to further highlight the necessity of including the chancellor’s name. Undoubtedly, I’m sure this report will find its way to his desk.

    Hempton closed the folder, squaring the pages neatly inside. No one else would ever read that file. It certainly wouldn’t find itself close to the chancellor’s desk. He would make sure of that.

    Smithe would try to bury the investigation. He had a history of covering up things the world wasn’t meant to see. He almost halted Hempton’s serums when he had Endelboro University firebombed. There were better ways of handling that situation than destroying the research. But perhaps that was his goal. Among other people, he condemned those serums. He considered their use biological warfare. He maintained the idea they had caused the Anderton virus, even if Nine’s research pointed otherwise. At least with the terrorist’s curse.

    Hempton had to be cautious about who read those reports. The last person to look for answers about the virus had been killed by Hempton himself. Myers’ work threatened the wrong people. If the virus was linked to the serums, then it was also linked to Project Regress. To the Umbra Guild. With Smithe’s name scattered throughout the pages, they would shut down any inquiries.

    What the Guild didn’t know, however, was how far Hempton would go to uncover the truth. The persisting virus jeopardized his own work with the Intolerance of Criminality Act. As long as Smithe continued to believe his serums were responsible, his actions would always be challenged. Nine’s work had shed new light on the virus’ origins. Coupled with Ultan’s findings on the virus, Hempton had a theory of his own. According to Nine, someone was involved with the distribution of the virus from Agridemesne. Someone with power.

    Even after Nine’s death, his work continued. Assets Eighteen and Twenty-two had made new discoveries, pushing them closer to a suspect. Hempton already had that person in mind. The very one that shifted blame, putting himself far away from any accusations.

    A subtle grin formed on his face as he tapped the folder against the desk once more. He realized it was the first time he had smiled since meeting with Valarie. Seeing her inside Guillermo had been harder than he would have ever imagined. Hard enough he couldn’t finish the interrogation and had to send Rothem in his place. At the end of it, Rothem requested permission to take her and a few more prisoners to Agridemesne. One of them had made claims of another safe house.

    He glanced at the clock hanging above him. Their flight would be leaving soon. He would have denied the request had Nine’s case folder not been delivered to him. Now, he had a reason to travel to the agricultural center of the Federation as well. He had come to despise that city. It had been left alone so long that it had begun to fester. Despite his efforts with the Intolerance of Criminality Act, he kept finding himself there.

    Asset Twelve was ordered to shadow Valarie and keep her safe from Rothem. He needed time to gather his assets to begin his own investigation. Eighteen was already en route. He hoped the investigation would lead to the culprit he suspected. It would be almost poetic to see him stripped of power after all the grief he had caused him. Only time would tell.

    1

    DANGER FOLLOWED MICHAEL everywhere. The clutches of the Federal Police restricted his lungs. Fear held his feet in place. The officers were right on top of him, coming for him and the people he cared about. Michael fought to keep them safe. Stepping in view of that delivery truck, he tried to give them more time. It was all he could do. His cure for the virus behind Project Regress had failed. They were once again on the run.

    In a blur, everything changed. The truck sped past him with everyone on board except him. Hands pulled him through the open door and into the dark, cavernous trailer. Ryker’s plan had been reckless. The officers were quick to respond to the fire. But not as many as Michael would have expected. At least one other asset had come, doing what Ryker had said he would. The asset named Matthys had called most of the officers away, believing the fire to have been a diversion. People like him concerned Michael the most.

    One of them still glared at him through the shadows of that delivery truck. Though Wesley kept him bound, Michael tried not to look at Chet. He didn’t like being a stowaway with two assets so close to him. What made him even more uncomfortable was the fact that Ryker was the one driving the truck. During the escape, he had climbed into the cab and commandeered it. Michael imagined the original driver tied up in the seat beside him. That mental picture didn’t help his shaky trust in Ryker.

    Left in the hands of an asset, Michael held his family close. He could only hope Ryker was taking them to the distribution center. Agridemesne General had long disappeared in the distance. A faint column of smoke was all he could see on the dark horizon. The rear door continued to swing back and forth, clacking against the metal latch. There had been no time to secure it. No time to wait for the others to join them.

    Nick had been left behind with Geo. The tears streamed from Michael’s eyes. His son wasn’t a sacrifice he wanted to make. If Nick wouldn’t forgive him before, Michael doubted if he ever would. Rebecca noticed his heartbreak as it dripped from his chin. She held him a little tighter. She felt it too.

    For years, they wondered what happened to their sons, wishing they could see them again. Michael never would have thought he would be the one to put them in danger. But Nick was strong. The Federal Police had trained him to be an officer. He would know what to do. It was the only thought that could ease the pain Michael felt within him.

    The truck came to a stop. For a moment, Michael hesitated to look through the open door, afraid of where they were. The tall, windowless structure outside was unmistakable, however. Ryker had brought them to the distribution center. He backed the trailer into a bay at the loading dock, careful not to hit the truck alongside them. Once they were parked, he opened the back of the trailer the rest of the way.

    Beyond the truck, it was quiet. The sight was almost the same as it was the last time Michael had seen it—a parking lot full of cars surrounding the massive steel buildings. Somewhere within that hardened structure was his only hope for the cure. The difference now was that he was on the wrong side of the walls. He would have to find his own way into Agent Larue’s office.

    Alright, Mr. Anderton, we’re following your plan now, Ryker said. Where to?

    Agent Larue of the FDA, Michael said. She has an office here. And I’m pretty sure she works the afternoon shift. When I was here before, there was a training program happening about this time. It’s where she found me.

    Meaning you currently have no plan for entry?

    Michael nodded sheepishly. That was something I was hoping you could help with.

    Releasing a heavy sigh, Ryker rummaged through his pocket. He seemed distressed. Troubled. More so than Michael had noticed from him before. Perhaps he had become far more involved than he had intended. Michael hated asking for help. All he could think about was getting to Larue and away from the officers that pursued them. Distraught over the loss of a lab, he had latched on to the thin hope that she would help him. She knew about the virus the Federation had tainted the food supply with. With the right persuasion, he felt he could convince her to help him solve his cure.

    Ryker motioned for Michael to join him as he walked to the corner of the building toward the parking lot. With so many cars spread across it, it didn’t seem possible that the rest of the Federation was under a strict quarantine.

    Across the lot, the building wrapped around it. A smaller building, though still massive on its own, protruded from the much larger production areas. The only true window that was more than a sliver of glass was tucked away where they met. Behind it, security guards overlooked both the parking lot and the main entrance. This time, they weren’t alone. Federal Police officers stood outside the entrance, illuminated by the light beneath the overhang. Michael and Ryker kept close to the corner so that they wouldn’t be seen.

    I’m going alone, Ryker said. With Federal Police here, the only way in is to not look suspicious. Once I find Larue, I’ll have her send for the rest of you.

    You can’t, Michael said. Larue won’t just help us. I’ll have to get her to open up to me like she did before.

    Ryker pressed his mouth into a line and peeked around the corner again. Fine. Follow my lead.

    He removed two face masks from his pocket and handed one to Michael. It was wrinkled and twisted from being stolen from the hospital and kept in the crease of his jacket. Michael did his best to straighten it out. He didn’t want someone to focus on his face because of its disheveled appearance. Ryker did the same.

    With the masks hiding their identities, they walked around the building toward the entrance. The Federal Police stood motionless. Michael tried not to make eye contact with them. He held back as Ryker approached the guard’s window and showed his identification. The guard looked at the ID and then at Ryker, puzzled.

    Department of Housing? he asked.

    With this virus threat, we’ve partnered with social services to provide medicine to orphans, Ryker said. At least we hope to, but it still needs FDA approval. My boss told me to contact an Agent Larue.

    The guard set Ryker’s card down and picked up the phone. Though Michael felt nervous, Ryker was unmoved as he waited. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, admiring the scenery. Even standing amid officers monitoring the building, he seemed relaxed. He hadn’t known the terror of being chased by them as Michael had. For Michael, it was all he could do to just appear calm.

    After a few moments, Larue stepped through the door. She looked tired. Even under the artificial lights, the dark circles under her eyes sunk deep behind her cheekbones. One hand clutched a cup of coffee. The other a stack of files.

    I’m sorry, Mr. Timmons, but I don’t have much time to talk about charity tonight, Larue said.

    I understand, Agent, but I’m on a bit of a deadline myself, Ryker said. I can assure you it won’t take but a minute of your time.

    Walk and talk, she said, beckoning them in.

    Ryker walked step for step with Larue, fabricating an intricate story seamlessly. His dominant presence allowed Michael to stay in the background with only a passing mention from Larue. She didn’t recognize him from their last encounter. Ryker was careful not to mention him, keeping her talking about the charity he used as a cover story. He had yet to reveal their true intentions for being there.

    Larue only appeared to be partially listening. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She led them to her small office, cluttered with stacks of papers and empty coffee cups. She did her best to straighten things, but there was only so much she could do.

    I apologize for the mess, she said as she offered Ryker a seat. My bosses have me looking into the old shutdown case.

    A shutdown of the distribution centers? Ryker asked with a raised brow.

    I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to talk about it.

    Is this about when they found that virus around eight years ago? Michael asked.

    Ryker tried to hold him back, but it was Larue that had told him about what happened in the first place. A virus had been discovered in the distribution centers. The virus the Federation had used to infect its own people. Michael couldn’t figure out why they would investigate it. That was something he was sure the Federation would want to keep buried.

    Larue nodded. I guess they haven’t kept it as hushed as they thought, if you know about it.

    Viruses are hard to keep contained, Michael said, tapping on his mask.

    He quickly stopped when he realized he was drawing attention to his face. Larue was far more likely to recognize him from the news than their brief encounter. He didn’t want her to associate him with the terrorists when he asked for her help.

    For now, let’s worry about the topic at hand, Ryker said. I have a team of doctors waiting outside. If you’ll permit us a conference room, we’ll gladly wait there until you have a moment for us to present the medication.

    It could be a while, Larue said. Unfortunately, this investigation takes priority.

    Take all the time you need.

    Ryker stood from his seat and stretched his hand toward Larue. He had found them a place to work. A place with accessible resources. The way he operated astounded Michael. He was always in control. But there was something bothering him. It was barely noticeable. Like most proficient liars, he was remarkable at hiding his thoughts.

    Michael wondered what else he was keeping from them. The asset had gone from questioning them about Project Regress to willfully helping them. Something had changed. The investigation of the shutdowns wasn’t the only thing that worried him. He had been anxious since Matthys arrived at Agridemesne General. There was more there, too, than he was willing to share.

    2

    THE CONFERENCE ROOM was perfect. It was reminiscent of the labs Michael had worked in before. A long table stretched across its center. One wall held a countertop well-lit beneath the row of cabinets above it. In the corner sat a computer to access their research. But the room was empty. There was no equipment for them to use.

    Larue was already eager to leave. Stress lines fanned from the corners of her red eyes. Her investigation into the shutdowns kept her overwhelmed. And the night had only begun. From her appearance, she worked far more hours than a single shift. Michael hated to ask her for more, but an empty room was no better than the back of a moving delivery truck.

    Is there any way you can provide us with a few pieces of equipment? he asked.

    The very question seemed to exasperate the already exhausted agent, but she forced a smile. The same smile that she would have given her superiors had they asked her to do something. It quickly transformed into puckered lips as she thought about Michael’s request.

    I thought you just needed the medication approved, she countered. That shouldn’t be more than paperwork.

    We’re… going to do some… preliminary testing. For the children, Michael stumbled, wishing his ability to create an excuse was as smooth as Ryker’s. We want to make sure everything is as it should be.

    A lack of confidence in your own work already doesn’t look good for you, but… Larue checked her watch. You do have plenty of time to test it before we can review it. I’ll send someone by with what you need.

    Thank you, Agent Larue.

    Larue started to leave, but Michael caught her studying him.

    Have we met before?

    Michael almost told her about their brief encounter, but quickly thought better of it. Not only had the news convinced the nation he was a terrorist, he had only met her because of Trent. After his former friend turned on him, he didn’t want Larue to associate the two of them together. Trent had had his own mysterious reason for being there.

    No. I don’t think so, he said.

    Larue shrugged. She didn’t question her recognition of Michael. There were too many other things on her mind.

    Once she left, Michael sat down at the long table, thumbing through his old notebook. While he had a moment alone, he studied everything he had written, criticizing his own work. He had spent months working on a formula for a cure. Wandering the Forbidden Zone with nothing but a notebook and his own broken memory, it wasn’t enough. Until LeFleur and Wesley added their contributions, he never made much progress. The more pages he flipped through, the less legible they became. What Michael had thought were his greatest breakthroughs were incoherent scribbles on paper.

    Between the jagged marks on the pages, Tanya had written the notes of what they had discovered in LeFleur’s lab. They had been so close. He wanted to find where they went wrong. It had to have been something simple. Something they had overlooked. Michael was determined to find it.

    A bump at the door startled him. Behind it, two men with the FDA carried a large silver crate. Each holding an end, they brought in the equipment Michael had requested. At first, they appeared unbothered by their efforts. By the third crate, they had started grumbling. Michael overheard one of them mention the FDA’s testing labs being restricted. He had wondered why Larue offered to bring the equipment to him, instead of allowing him to work where it was. He assumed the FDA wouldn’t let outsiders into their testing facilities, but it seemed to be more than that. The investigation into the shutdowns had taken over their resources as well.

    Why has the Federation become concerned with the shutdowns? Michael asked himself. It was something he couldn’t figure out. An investigation would only reveal the Federation’s secret. If the public found out their government had released the terrorist’s curse, they would revolt. More and more people would join the Red Rider cause. Wesley would want that. That would be more people to reignite his war. But Michael had seen enough war. He had already been manipulated into fighting against his future allies by making them seem as evil as the Northwyn terrorists.

    He chose his cure. If he took away the Federation’s weapon, there would be no reason for war. No reason for senseless violence. The people would no longer rejoice in their oppression. They would see the Federation for what it was.

    As Michael continued studying his notes, he couldn’t help but think of something the potentate had told him. He had said Michael didn’t know how the Federation worked. Those in charge weren’t always aware of what occurred at levels beneath them. Sitting in an interrogation room, Michael didn’t want to believe him then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to believe it now. Potentate Zacchaeus was the supreme ruler of the Federation. The nation’s wrongdoings were as much his fault as Colonel Hempton’s.

    But if Zacchaeus was right, perhaps he didn’t know what Hempton had done. Perhaps the investigation was legitimate, and he would uncover his own nation’s wickedness. Michael laughed at his own thought. That was asking too much of a nation that had called its own citizens terrorists, hunting them down and murdering them.

    Michael blocked his conversation with Zacchaeus from his mind. They were too close to a cure for him to be distracted. He had to find what LeFleur had missed. He was certain they would have solved it already had they not been discovered by Chet and the officers. Michael glanced at the computer sitting in the corner of the room. Any temptation he felt to access it was doused by the memory of Chet. That was best left to Watch. He had no doubt she could access LeFleur’s research without the Federal Police knowing.

    For now, he continued to study the words on the page as he impatiently waited for the others to arrive. Ryker had created an excuse to bring them there, but nervousness still weighed on Michael. Whenever the FDA agents bumped the walls or clattered equipment against a counter, he flinched. Each time afraid it was the Federal Police once again capturing his friends and family.

    Once the FDA agents had finished unpacking, everything became still. Quiet. It was something he was no longer used to. He wasn’t hiding from the Federal Police. Wasn’t helping to orchestrate a war. He was just working. It was the most natural he had felt in months. They had left him alone with his thoughts and ideas.

    It reminded him of all those long nights he had spent at the university, creating the virus with Cade. He had been so determined then, pushing everything and everyone else out to accomplish it. Those efforts almost cost him Rebecca. They had often fought over him leaving her alone with their young sons, Nick and Nathan. For a moment, he considered if they would have been better off if she would have left him. They would have been safe.

    Nothing had changed. Ever since Myers showed him the effects of the virus he had worked so hard to create, all he could focus on was creating the cure. He had exchanged one obsession for another. Both had been intended for good. Both had taken him away from his family. His want for the cure had left Rebecca stranded in Orthanton. Without Watch, he didn’t know if he would have ever found her again.

    Guilt flooded over Michael. Had he replaced his family with his need to correct his mistakes? Is that why his sons resented him so? He had convinced himself he was doing it for Rebecca and his family as much as himself. The only way to protect them was to stop the Federation from hunting him. He had to undo the mistakes he had made. The very ones that had allowed Rebecca to contract the virus as well.

    Although he tried not to think about it, he often found himself doubting how effective his primitive antidote ever was. He never had time to test it, and his time with Rebecca since then had been brief. She could have hidden it from him. He wondered if she felt herself slipping away like he did.

    Michael flipped through his notebook, looking for things that could help both of them. His finger caught too many pages, and he found himself on the last. On the page, there was nothing about the virus or the cure. There were questions that had once filled his mind. Questions that angered him.

    What is Project Regress?

    The two words struck Michael. There was his true motive. His anger with the Federation had crept in, clouding his judgment. The Federation had kidnapped its own citizens to enforce conformity. People like Rebecca had been taken because their beliefs differed from their tyrannical views. But they weren’t alone…

    Why were foreign diplomats working with the leaders of the Federation?

    The Federation was just a small fragment of the global reach of the Umbra Guild. The true monsters hidden in the shadows. The more Michael uncovered of their schemes, the less his cure became about Rebecca and more about exposing the leaders of the nations.

    Michael pushed his notebook away, cradling his face in his hands. He didn’t like who he had become. His time with his friends and family in that three-room shack seemed like another life. He was once again the Michael Anderton the Federation had used to execute their plots.

    Rebecca had always forgiven him, but she deserved better. Someone who could be as devoted to her and their family as he was to his work. His heart wrestled with his mind. As a father and husband, all he wanted was to be there for his family. After seeing Nick, he knew the consequences of his obsessions. But he knew he had no choice. He had tried to hide from his past for too long. Years spent in the Forbidden Zone did nothing but prolong the suffering and allow more innocents to be struck by it. The work had to be finished for the sake of himself, for her, and the people of the Federation.

    But he didn’t have to bear the burden alone. Everyone there had come because Michael asked them to trust him. They each shared the same goal. He looked at his frail and dirty notebook, closing the cover of it. Now wasn’t the time to try to solve it.

    Instead, he went to the cases scattered around the room and began opening them. He set up the pieces of equipment, transforming the conference room into a laboratory. He wanted to have everything ready for the doctors, for Watch, for Maps. For Wesley and Rebecca. Each of them had their own role to play in creating the cure. It could no longer be his obsession. It was going to take them all to succeed.

    3

    AGENT LARUE. Ryker knew that name sounded familiar. Hearing her talk about the shutdowns, he realized he had stumbled upon another investigation. She had been the mark of Asset Nine, Trent Allister. The man who had been murdered by Michael Anderton, or so the claim was made. It was no coincidence he had become a part of Anderton’s plan.

    Ryker glanced back over his shoulder, glimpsing a small piece of the door he had left Anderton behind. He fought to silence his persistent suspicions of the man claimed to be a terrorist. He was in too deep not to let things continue to play out. With the truths he heard within the walls of the Umbra Guild, he was no longer certain of anything. He was following wherever his investigation led. And now, that investigation led him to the trail of another asset.

    Nine’s business with Larue and the shutdowns was kept deeply confidential. Even the details surrounding the asset were only whispered among loyal friends. Like Ryker’s own that had told him about it.

    Though he was missing for years, Nine’s moniker was never reissued. Then, with only a single assignment given to him, he was killed in a car accident with Anderton. Given the clandestine nature of their job, Ryker never thought much of it. With his new state of mind, it only added to the conspiracy he wanted to unravel.

    After talking with Anderton and Larue, Ryker now knew the shutdowns were in response to a virus. If they were once again being investigated, Nine’s assignment had been revived. Because of its nature and the people involved, Ryker couldn’t help but consider it was somehow tied to Project Regress. He had helped transport three of its members to that place.

    Logic told him he was being played by Anderton. That he had cleverly gotten him to bring them there to infect the nation with a new weapon. But his instinct told him he was wrong. In his time with Anderton, he didn’t find the malice that he had with his other marks.

    And then there was the secrecy surrounding Nine’s activities. Assets were assigned to protect government secrets, but Regress didn’t just belong to the Federation. It was shared by the members of the Umbra Guild. People like Prime Minister Xiao openly discussing it with Chancellor Smithe. The more Ryker discovered, the more he began to feel alienated from the one thing he believed in.

    Taking a deep breath, he walked past the Federal Police officers standing guard outside. The people he wanted to bring in were the ones he had helped escape from their custody

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