Dreams of the Lion

By David Holmberg

Daniel Lyons grew up reading comic books. While most boys his age daydreamed of fighting evil, Daniel took the next step and obsessively learned and trained in martial arts. The day came when he emerged from obscurity and faced a legendary criminal, launching a global career of personal combat with evil. Perhaps more unlikely, the shy young man witnessed his faith to a brash young reporter, and through shared adventures she became his serious girlfriend. Unnamed forces have taken note of Daniel's exploits and seek to study him to replicate his fighting ability. They will stop at nothing to accomplish this. Daniel's foes are after him, but this time the fight is not physical and he must put his full trust in the Lord.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Holmberg
• Release date: Nov 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215626467

David Holmberg

David moved to Maine over thirty years ago, after college. He has studied martial arts for years and holds a high degree black belt. A veteran of over 20 medical mission trips to the Dominican Republic, he is also a Sunday School teacher, an avid photographer, and an obsessive reader. Having consumed over 5,000 books by his own estimate, David felt it was time to give back and write his own book at last. He and his wife, Peg, have a grown son. Peg read an early draft of his first book and said it sounded like it was written by a Sunday School teacher who read too many detective novels. Truth in advertising.

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Remarkable Specimen

That’s it…hold it right there…just one more, the X-Ray tech advised. His voice came through a bit scratchy on the intercom.

Daniel was alone, lying on the adjustable table. He was undergoing a series of diagnostic tests in the prestigious human physiology lab at Massachusetts Institute for Technology. Today’s testing was devoted to various imaging modalities: CAT scan, nuclear scintigraphy, and now a conventional X-Ray series.

For two weeks now, Daniel had been the test subject of a university research project in human physiology. Sophisticated instruments had measured every aspect of his reflexes, eye-hand coordination, and fine motor muscle control. Hours had been spent measuring muscle strength and endurance. A battery of psychological tests established his state of mind. Even his sleep had been monitored for brain wave activity and REM duration.

Following these functional tests, a battery of basic medical diagnostics had been run to establish his baseline values and general state of health.

The X-Ray tech entered the room, You can sit up now, Daniel. That does it for bone pictures. I should have all the images the docs want to see. He glanced at his watch, Looks like I’ll be sending you shortly to the MRI room. They’ve got you scheduled right off for a series of whole-body scans. The medical assistant should be right in to take you there. Good luck! With that last word, the X-Ray tech made a note on his clipboard and withdrew from the room.

Alone for a moment, Daniel relaxed. No longer needing to hold still, he slowly worked his muscles, trying to shake the stiffness out. It had been a long day of tests so far, but very little physical activity. The lack of exercise for the large muscle groups was causing him cramps, so finely tuned was his physiology. Far from feeling rested, the lack of muscle activity seemed to leave him sluggish, as though exhausted.

He felt ready to spend a half hour working up a sweat in the university gym. Now that would’ve felt good. As he always said about muscles, Use them…or lose them.

But such was simply not to be. Another medical assistant was already wheeling him to the MRI room and asking him if he was pre-medicated. Daniel’s expression indicated confusion.

You know, like lorazepam. The good stuff, man. That little white pill that sets your mind at ease…chills you right out. You’re going to need it for when they roll you into that MRI tube…like a coffin inside there. No one goes through the full body MRI straight, man.

But as Daniel was to soon demonstrate, he wasn’t like most people.

After a brief discussion with the staff doctor, Daniel politely declined the lorazepam. Somewhat reluctantly, the doctor agreed to let him go on without the pharmaceutical help. In his experience, too many patients panicked and hit the emergency evacuation button part way through the MRI procedure, ruining the test and causing expensive delays and re-scheduling problems.

With noise-blocking ear phones in place, Daniel laid down on the rolling table and was immediately inserted head first into the large plastic body tube. It seemed the table was rolling before he even got completely stretched out on it. On the tech’s advice, he closed his eyes even before the table started to roll.

Calling it a large tube was a bit of an exaggeration, Daniel realized quickly. The fact was, he fit inside with not much more than a couple inches to spare. Opening his eyes, he could see the tube surface not even an inch from his nose.

Then the giant magnets started up. The irregular clanging noise easily penetrated the ear phones, leaving Daniel to wonder just how loud they were without benefit of the noise-blocking technology.

For a claustrophobic, or someone with sensitive ears, this would be torture, Daniel thought to himself. Closing his eyelids tightly blocked out any visual signals, allowing his brain to wander a bit.

It took quite a bit of will power, but by concentrating on keeping his eyes shut and not moving a muscle Daniel was just able to convince his inner mind that he was safely home in bed and not hopelessly trapped inside some kind of high-tech plastic coffin.

Daniel prayed. Spending a little quality time with his Father in heaven gave him peace of mind, allowing him to endure nearly an hour of very unpleasant surroundings. He knew that God didn’t promise to deliver believers from all trials in this world, but to be there with them in their time of need.

And at last, it was over. The table was rolled out of the tube and the fresh, circulating air hit him in the face.

What Daniel didn’t know was that much of that air was Nitrous Oxide – laughing gas – and his reflex deep breaths increased the speed of its absorption into his blood stream. In seconds, he was under the influence. His last memory before blacking out was seeing the face of an Asian man partly hidden behind a surgical mask leaning over him and staring into his eyes.

The Asian man injected the contents of two syringes into the I.V. bag that dripped into Daniel’s veins. He did not make any note on the chart of what he administered to him.

He’s out. The gas has taken effect. Help me move him to the gurney, the Asian man spoke through the mask. Clipped to the lapel of his white lab coat was a plastic security card identifying him as Dr. Wu.

You are one remarkable specimen, Mr. Lyons. That’s for sure, Dr. Wu spoke aloud to Daniel. My colleagues will be very pleased with the data from these studies we’ve conducted on you. Dr. Wu spoke clearly and slowly, looking for any sign of cognition from Daniel. Seeing none, he stepped back and signaled his lab assistants.

Two grad students in blue surgical scrubs stepped forward and lifted Daniel carefully onto the hospital gurney. Dr. Wu secured heavy nylon straps across Daniel’s limp body at the upper torso and the knees, pulling the slack tight and testing that the buckles were fastened. Satisfied, he instructed the two assistants to wheel the gurney out of the lab and into the hallway. Pausing to lift the office phone off the receiver, he dialed an outside number.

After two rings, the connection was made, and a voice came on the line, asking for his take-out order. The voice spoke Mandarin Chinese. Dr. Wu spoke briefly, ordering a plate of boiled white rice and sliced chicken, also in Mandarin, then hung up without giving a name.

Checking that no one was in sight, Dr. Wu dismissed the two lab assistants and proceeded to wheel the gurney through the double doors and across the wide receiving area in the back of the lab. It was late in the afternoon and few employees remained in the building.

Pushing the button opened the electric door and allowed Dr. Wu to roll the gurney out onto the loading dock. He spotted the unmarked white van pulling up to the end of the dock. Good. Right on time.

Two Asian men exited the van and approached Dr. Wu. They engaged for a moment in conversation, speaking in Mandarin dialect. While the older one continued to converse with Dr. Wu, the younger one slipped silently behind him, reaching around and clamping a chloroform-soaked rag over the doctor’s mouth and nose.

Dr. Wu instinctively struggled for a moment, then lost consciousness. The younger man behind him gripped his slumping body tightly, then lowered him to the ground. Feeling the doctor’s pockets, the older man found and removed a computer floppy disc, after checking the hand-written label. Satisfied it was the right one, he secured it in his jacket pocket, then nodded to his colleague.

Acting in deliberate haste, the two men wheeled Daniel’s gurney to the white van and slid it into the back. The interior of the van was outfitted as a makeshift ambulance.

Glancing around, the two men saw no one. No witnesses. Good. In minutes, the older man hooked up an I.V. to Daniel’s arm and set the pump rate for the correct dosage. There was no telling how much Nitrous Oxide got into his lungs, so the knockout effect could wear off any minute. Better to keep him properly sedated for his journey.

The younger man slid in behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove the unmarked white van out of the M.I.T. campus parking lot and headed east toward the Charles River and the bridge that would take them to Boston.

Chapter 2

The Offer was a Good One

Evangeline turned the wheel and pulled out into downtown Montreal traffic. Progress was slow at first, but once past a few traffic lights she made it onto the bridge and crossed the St. Lawrence River to the south bank.

Traffic eased and she sped up as the highway crossed the near suburbs. If conditions hold, I might make the US frontier in Maine in three hours, she mused. Instead of heading directly south toward Vermont, the shortest driving route to the US, she chose a route that would take her in an easterly direction across more familiar territory in southern Quebec Province.

A native of Quebec, Evangeline was awarded permanent resident status in the US as a result of her part in a special intelligence operation Daniel was involved with last winter.

Daniel. Her boyfriend. Soon-to-be husband. The love of her life. The remarkable young man who witnessed the gospel to her.

And the man who risked all to save her life.

Thirty minutes east of Montreal the scenery grew more rural as she drove. Built up suburbs gave way to expansive farmland on both sides of the road, spreading toward the horizon. As the miles flew by, a familiar gnawing feeling grew in her stomach.

Hunger. How long had it been since lunch? Must be a couple hours now, she thought. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realized that it was well over four hours since she had any food. Time to do something about that, she determined as she began to scan the roadside for signs of a diner or some kind of take-out food.

Blessed with a tall and lean athletic build, Evangeline knew it came with a big price: a high metabolic rate that gave her a ravenous appetite. No matter how much she ate, she never seemed to put on even a tiny bit of weight. Such a problem, I know, she admitted. I think my female cousins would like to strangle me when they have to watch me chow down on so many calories and fatty foods around the holidays.

Speaking of fatty foods. She spotted a sign, then slowed and pulled into the parking lot of a take-out place called Larry’s Clam Bar. Just what the doctor ordered…should be all kinds of deep-fried goodies on the menu. Larry’s Clam Bar. She noted the English-language sign as it was one of very few in this part of the province.

Evangeline was Francophone, born and raised in a French-only family and town here in Quebec. Her formal education in English was only two years in a public high school, but her natural proclivity to talk and the amount of time she spent with her boyfriend, Daniel, in the last three years had greatly improved her English skills.

Pausing to glance in the mirror before opening the car door, she carefully tucked her long ponytail into the sweatshirt and pulled on a floppy sun hat. Her natural hair color was an other-worldly shade of deep red, and years of rude and largely unwanted attention had put her in the habit of hiding her hair most times in public.

Fifteen minutes later she was seated at a wooden picnic table digging in to a fried seafood platter with extra fries. Can’t say I’m not trying to put on a kilo or two, she muttered to herself.

It had been a busy two weeks for the redhead reporter. Her newspaper, the Sherbrooke Journal, had assigned her to cover a visiting Chinese scientist from M.I.T. who was doing research in human physiology. The editor of the Journal had learned that M.I.T. was looking for volunteers as research subjects and decided there might be a good story behind it. He had turned the redhead reporter loose in pursuit.

Her initial phone contact with Dr. Wu revealed his special interest in researching the limits of human adaptation in speed, reflexes, and endurance.

A lightbulb went off in Evangeline’s head. She immediately thought of her boyfriend, Daniel. Just in the time she’s known him, hasn’t he demonstrated incredible physical abilities? Under the assumed name of Daniel Marcotte, he’s twice defeated the best professional fighters in the world. Under his real name of Daniel Lyons, he’s captured a legendary criminal, fought rogue Soviet Speznaz commandos, and survived who knows how many fights with criminals and gang members.

And in these adventures, he trekked 70 miles on an all-night hike through the snowy Maine woods and competed in the inaugural Las Vegas 100-mile Ultramarathon.

Who could be a better research subject on the limits of human reflex, speed and endurance? Besides, enrolling Daniel in Dr. Wu’s research project gave her an inside edge on the developing story.

Evangeline saw at least several columns coming out of this, maybe a whole series.

It had been harder to convince Daniel than she expected. A whole weekend of verbal persuasion had gone into it. She knew her boyfriend was very modest and self-effacing about his exploits, but she was determined. Not for nothing had she been given the moniker of ‘the redhaired bitch’ by a journalism professor who noted she was like a dog on a bone when in pursuit of a story. In the end, her appeal to greater scientific knowledge, and Dr. Wu’s assurances of protecting his privacy won him over.

If not enthusiastic, Daniel at least promised to be cooperative, for her sake. He was very proud of his girlfriend, recent university graduate in journalism and reporter of growing Provincial fame. If his enrollment in the study meant so much to her, he would bite the bullet and get on with it.

At Dr. Wu’s insistence, Daniel was enrolled immediately in the study. Evangeline handled the initial paperwork for enrollment over the phone that afternoon, then helped Daniel pack for the trip. They drove together first thing Monday morning from West Farmington, Maine four hours south to the M.I.T. campus in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Accompanying him, she admitted, was partly to begin research for her story, but also to prevent him from backing out.

Upon arrival, Dr. Wu had been gracious and granted her a private interview in his office, as well as access to several Ph.D. candidates collaborating on his project. Dr. Wu and his colleagues outlined the goals of their research in easy-to-grasp laymen’s terms for her.

Listening to the scientists was novel and exciting for her. The researchers made cutting edge physiological science sound so fascinating. After listening to them, she was sure her readers would be hooked.

By noon of the first day of Daniel’s participation, he had been isolated from her and was already undergoing initial testing. Strict isolation of the test subject from familiar relationships was necessary, Dr. Wu explained, so as to preclude any observer bias or influence. Academic research at this prestigious level was governed by strict protocols and meticulously peer reviewed.

As reluctant as she was about being separated from Daniel, she agreed to the experimental conditions and to come back to pick him up in a couple weeks.

She was sure she could dig all the needed info out of him on the long ride back to Maine. There was nothing like an extensive interview with an eyewitness to flesh out a good newspaper column.

As she gathered her hand-written notes and kissed Daniel goodbye. Dr. Wu poked his head into the waiting room and motioned to her. He just contacted his colleagues at the university in Shanghai and they had suggested meeting with her. A delegation of Chinese academics were traveling to a conference in Montreal in the coming days, and they were interested in promoting their physiology research in the western press.

In fact, the visiting Chinese professors would do her the favor of granting exclusive interviews if she traveled to Montreal to meet with them in person.

It seemed a very good offer. She had to admit this story sounded just a little academic and dry when first assigned, but her enthusiasm for it was growing. Deeply disappointed about leaving Daniel, she thought the time would really drag for her, but a road