The Dead War Series (Book 1): Good Intentions

  Good Intentions

  The Dead War Series

  Book One

  D.N. Simmons

  First Edition

  RUSHMORE PUBLISHING

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidences either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition Edited by H.I. Gantt

  Copyright © 2015 by D.N. Simmons

  Rushmore Publishing - Chicago, IL

  Paperback

  ISBN-13: 978-0615887524

  ISBN-10: 061588752X

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author. Exceptions are in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this novel to my absolutely wonderful, loyal, understanding and truly patient readership. Your unwavering support has meant the world to me. Writing these books for you has been one of my greatest pleasures and I am thrilled to have you all as readers.

  As always, I would also like to thank my editor H.I. Gantt, for being honest and so very supportive. I love you. I would also love to thank my wonderful beta Judy Halldorson for giving this novel your professional touch.

  I’d like to thank my mother for being the wonderful, supportive and loving person you are, honestly, I wouldn’t be here without you. I’d like to thank my father (may he forever rest in peace) for his encouragement, sense of humor and advice given, that has guided me on my life’s journey.

  Last, but not least, I’d like to send a special “thank you” to all of you who have supported me in life and in my career.

  Love Always

  D.N.

  And So It Begins...

  Prologue

  The Director of the Biological Research Department of SciTech Laboratories, Dr. Steve Morris sat at his desk in his comfortable black, leather chair as he spoke with the military general across from him.

  “I'm sure I don't have to tell you that this little experiment is to be kept top secret?” General Bradley Fuller reiterated. His cold blue eyes attempted to cut ribbons through the debonair attitude of the younger man.

  Dr. Morris cleared his throat, blatantly ignoring the General’s glare. “I understand full well the importance of secrecy in this matter and I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about.”

  “If it's all the same to you, I'll be the judge of that. Trusting SciTech Labs with this wasn't my choice. However, this company came highly recommended as one of the top labs in the entire country, so here I am.” The General crossed one leg over the other as he rested his hands on his knee. “What can you guarantee as the turnaround time? We want results as soon as possible.”

  “Well, from what you've shown me, it's an unknown substance. It might help us if you can give me a little more background on the compound. It would help us to know where it came from,” Steve said.

  The General frowned. “Unfortunately, that's classified.”

  Steve scoffed. “General, you've got my hands tied—”

  “It's need to know and you don't have the clearance,” Gen. Fuller interjected brashly. “If you don't think your department can work under those circumstances, I'll inform my superiors of your noncompliance.”

  “General, please, there's no need for rashness. I only want to give the United States Military Forces our very best effort.”

  “The United States Military isn't looking for 'effort', Doctor. We're looking for results and with what you're being offered to come up with those results, failure is not an option. Are we clear?”

  Gen. Fuller's stern gaze became even more intense. The nerves Steve was trying to ignore came roaring to the forefront. He shifted in his chair, feeling a lot less comfortable.

  Steve cleared his throat. “As they say in the military, crystal.”

  Steve adjusted the knot of his tie, loosening the material a bit. The room was feeling a bit hotter than it was several minutes ago before the general entered. He couldn't help but wonder if it was because the heat was turned up or if it was just him.

  “I'd like to meet the team you're going to assign to this experiment,” Gen. Fuller requested.

  “Oh, of course. One minute.” Steven pressed several buttons on his phone keypad and a masculine voice came over the intercom.

  “Yes, Dr. Morris?” Dr. Vincent Masterson replied.

  “I'd like you to gather your team and come to my office,” Steve ordered.

  “We'll be there shortly.”

  The line disconnected. The two men sitting in the office looked at each other for a few seconds before Gen. Fuller broke the uncomfortable silence. “You still didn't give me a turnaround time.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me General, but with so little information provided to us regarding this compound, I can't in good conscious give you an exact date,” Steve said.

  “You have six months.”

  “Six months? I think it's premature to attempt to put a time limit on this project.”

  “Regardless of your opinion, six months is the limit. We would prefer results before that date, of course. You'll have every resource you'll need at your disposal. If after six months, you come to me empty handed, you will lose the sizable grant your company is being awarded based on your success with this project.”

  Steve thought about the huge amount of money the military was tossing at them and the threat struck home. His superiors put a lot of pressure on him to get the job done. They didn't care how he did it, they just wanted it done. When he'd first been approached about the secret military project, he was intrigued, but cautious. Knowing that the success of the experiment was up to him, he made sure to gather three of his best scientists for the job. Transferring the pressure and duties of jobs was something he was well versed at. His telephone rang and his secretary informed him that his team had arrived and was standing outside the door.

  “Please let them in,” Steve said before hanging up.

  “Hi, Steve, you wanted to see us?” Vincent greeted as he entered.

  “Yes, please.” He gestured around the room, indicating that the three scientists should find a place in the room to either stand or sit.

  Vincent took the chair beside the General's and his other co-workers—Dr. Henrick and Dr. Pierce—stood behind him.

  “This is General Fuller, he's our military contact on the project I've informed you about.” Steve said before giving full but brief introductions.

  Gen. Fuller gave the three men a quick inspection. They were younger than he had expected. The one called Vincent in particular—with his freshly shaven face, bright blue eyes and carefree, but rather preppy haircut. His eyes trailed over to Dr. Henrick, who looked to be a little older with chestnut hair and brown eyes. Then there was dark haired, brown eyed Dr. Philip who looked to be fresh out of med school, as far as he was concerned. Looking at the team of scientist, his hopes for success were abysmally low.

  “It's nice to meet you, General. I hope you're enjoying our Chicago weather,” Vincent said in an attempt to make light conversation.

  “I've been in worse conditions.” was the General's curt reply.

  Vincent took the hint and decided to keep the conversation to strictly business. “The good General just wanted to meet our top-notch team who will be heading the experiment. I assure you, Gen. Fuller, these three men are our best and if results are what you're looking for, they will be the s
cientists who will give them to you,” Steve boasted.

  Vincent cut a glance at Steve wondering just how much shit he was getting them into.

  “Are you up to the task?” Gen. Fuller asked the scientists.

  “Not only am I up to the task, I'm very intrigued by it. We've already started the preliminary tests and I can't begin to tell you how fascinating this substance is,” Vincent asked, leaning forward in his excitement. “May I ask where you got it?”

  Steve coughed and when Vincent turned to him, he gave a slight shake of his head.

  “I'm sorry, Doctor, but that information, as I explained to your superior, is classified.” Gen. Fuller left it at that, keeping his face as stoic as any trained soldier could and giving new defining meaning to a “killer poker face”.

  Vincent nodded with a crooked smile. “Yes, of course, I understand.”

  “If you don't have anything else to discuss with these scientists, why don't we let them get back to work. Time is of the essence, is it not?” Steve said.

  He tried very hard to conceal the sarcasm he wanted to douse the uptight military general with, but out of respect—and fear—he held it in check.

  General Fuller nodded as he picked up his hat from the desktop, placing it back on his bald head. He rose from his chair. “You're quite right. I need to be leaving. I have a plane to catch in an hour. We're trusting SciTech Labs and your team with something that will change the world as we know it. You are all going to be a huge part of history, mark my words.”

  “We hope so, General,” Steve said as he rose from his seat to escort the general out of the building.

  Vincent and the other doctors took the lead and left the office first, returning to their laboratory. Steve couldn't help basking in the relief he felt as he watched the general climb into the back of a military Hummer.

  “Fucking asshole,” he muttered to himself as he turned to go back to his office. Once inside, he contacted Vincent and asked him to come back to his office alone.

  Several minutes later, Vincent knocked on the door. Steven opened it and stepped aside.

  “Is there something wrong?” Vincent asked as he entered. He tried not to sound as nervous as he felt.

  “Only that you can't fail. Not with this. We have millions riding on the success of this project. I promoted you and gave you your own lab and team because you guaranteed me that you were the man for the job. Now, I ask you, can you do it?” Steve looked at him, searching Vincent's expression for any signs of doubt.

  “First off, Steve, you promoted me because you told me I was the best scientist for the job. We've just started the project, but it would be a lot easier if we knew more about what we're working with. Do you have any information about the origins of this compound we're supposed to revolutionize?” Vincent asked with a bit of unprofessional sarcasm, not entirely uncharacteristic of him.

  Steve sighed. “I don't know anything more than you do. When I pressed him for answers, I got the same response he gave you.” He ran his hands over his face, then back through his blond locks. “This is big, Vincent. He was right when he said it would change the world. Do you think we'll be successful?”

  By we, you mean us. Vincent thought, knowing full well the weight of this project was resting on his shoulders and his team. Although, mainly him because he was in charge of the lab.

  “I think we're your best chance. We're just going to need some time.”

  “You have six months max.”

  “Well, that's not adding any pressure,” Vincent quipped.

  “That's the military for you.”

  “Well, let me get back to work then.”

  “Go make history.”

  Vincent nodded and walked out of the room for the second time that day with a since of dread and excitement. “Time to change the world,” he said to himself while riding the elevator to the sixth floor.

  Chapter One

  Five Months and Three Weeks Later

  “So this is your current analysis?”

  Dr. Vincent Masterson’s supervisor, Dr. Steve Morris, spoke as he sifted through the file he was given. The results were unsatisfactory in the least of opinions, and his work was typically some of the best. Subpar was not an option.

  “Unfortunately, yes. We ran tests on several different subjects. At best, the results with specimen 12-19 were inconclusive,” Vincent said. “The other specimens were unchanged apart from healing their sickness, or minor self-inflicted injuries.”

  “What happened with specimen 12-19?”

  “He suffered a cardiac arrest for about three minutes, but we managed to resuscitate him. The test results didn’t show any change in his physical abilities. However, his heart rate is abnormal. Also his health seems to be deteriorating regardless of how much VH-12 we give him,” Vincent said.

  “Dr. Masterson, I hope I don’t have to stress just how important this project is. If we can manipulate the compound, the possibilities in its use can be endless. And let’s not forget the massive amount of funding the lab is getting to conduct these tests. The government wants results and we have less than a week to give them to them,” Steve reminded him.

  “I’m well aware of what’s at stake here, sir. But you have to understand that we are working with a very volatile substance. By itself, it’s been proven to be highly addictive and even lethal. On the other hand, it can cure every disease known to man. It’s even been able to heal broken bones and major injuries in a matter of seconds,” Vincent said. “But what we’re doing with it… trying to bio-engineer something this unknown… it’s going to take time.”

  “Time we don’t have. We have to present something to the board and the military advisers by next week. Have something worthwhile to show by next Wednesday, Mr. Masterson,” Steve said.

  Vincent didn’t need to hear the words “or else” to know they were implied nonetheless. He nodded and left the supervisor’s office heading straight into the employee lunch room towards the coffee machine to pour himself a large cup—black.

  “I can tell by the lack of cream and sugar in the coffee, your meeting with Morris didn’t go well?” Dr. Richard Benton said, patting Vincent on his back.

  “Do they ever? The guy’s a fucking bureaucrat. He may have been a scientist a long time ago, but now he’s just a money-hungry parasite,” Vincent said.

  “Wow, tell me how you really feel about the SOB,” Richard said with a chuckle.

  Vincent laughed without really wanting to. He wanted to be pissed, but Richard’s sense of humor always rubbed off on him at the most inconvenient of times. Still, he was grateful for his friend’s timely sense of humor. Already he could feel some of his stress fading away, though he suspected it would return as soon as he walked back into his lab.

  “Listen, my wife and I are having a little get together at my house Saturday. Why don’t you bring Sarah over? You look like you could use the break and there’s going to be beer, ribs, beer, more food, beer and music. Did I mention we’re having beer and other liquors that could get you nice and shitfaced?” Richard smiled mischievously as he wiggled his eyebrows.

  “You’re going to have beer there, you say?” Vincent asked sarcastically.

  Richard shrugged. “Just a few bottles. Nothing special.” He grinned.

  Vincent laughed outright, slapping his friend on the arm. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. I could use the distraction.”

  “Good, cause I’ve already told Linda you’re coming,” Richard said, smiling wider.

  “Oh you did, did you?” Vincent shook his head as he slipped his dollar into the vending machine. “Man, you’re something else.”

  He pressed the buttons and a Snickers candy bar fell to the bottom. Vincent retrieved it and both he and Richard sat down at the table to enjoy their snacks and coffee. They chatted idly about the current weather, sports and other co-workers for a while.

  “So, do you think you’re close to discovering the first super-human elixir?” Richard asked him, bringi
ng the conversation to Vincent’s supposedly “secret” project.

  “How in the hell do you know about what we're working on?” Vincent asked, shocked.

  Richard cocked an eyebrow as if to say “really?” then shrugged. “Apparently, Morris has a big mouth, especially when he's pillow talking Cathy.”

  Vincent's eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward. “Wait, Steve Morris and Cathy Billroy are fucking?”

  Richard snorted. “Where the hell have you been, man? I thought the whole company knew about that. Cathy's been walking around bragging that he's going to leave his wife for her. Frankly, I don't see that happening. His wife has all the money in the family. He's stupid for cheating on her with a big-mouth gossip like Cathy, but I guess she's got that kind of snatch that makes a man do some stupid shit.”

  “You kiss your wife with that vulgar mouth of yours?” Vincent teased.

  “If you knew the things I do with my mouth to that woman—”

  Vincent held up his hand. “I'm going to stop you right there on the grounds of too much fucking information.” He laughed.

  Richard winked. “I'm just saying.”

  “Yeah, back to what you were saying earlier... about my project...” Vincent sighed and leaned back into his chair. “Truth be told, it’s not looking good. That’s what the meeting was about. I think our only test subject that had some semblance of success is going to pass away. So I feel like we’re taking two steps back. There are some things I haven’t tried, but I don’t think they’re the best options.”

  “Who knows,” Richard stuck another potato chip into his mouth, “the shit you haven’t tried might just be the one thing you need to try.”

  Vincent regarded him thoughtfully. “You might be right. I’ll run some other tests before I try those other two options. Just to make sure I’m dotting all my I’s and crossing all of my T’s.”