Cameron K. Moore - Dark Cure

Table of Contents

DARK
CURE

A TRIDENT FORCE THRILLER

CAMERON K. MOORE

Ebook Version

[1st Edition 2018, electronic]

ISBN: 978-1-925764-79-6 (ePub)

ISBN: 978-1-925764-80-2 (Mobi)

Print Version

Dark Cure by Cameron K. Moore

Published by Cameron K. Moore All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright restricted above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. The views of the author belong solely to the author and are not necessarily those of the publisher or the publishing service provider.

1st Edition 2018, paperback.

ISBN: 978-1-925764-78-9

PROLOGUE

J ACQUES B ENOIT AVERTED his gaze from the needle gleaming in the harsh halogen light. Over his many years as a soldier, he had developed a high threshold for pain. Needles, however, had always made him feel queasy.

An electrocardiogram machine monitoring the electrical activity of his heart beeped steadily. The room he was in was fifty feet square, with no windows to relieve the starkness of its dull white walls and ceiling. It felt sterile, a sensation reinforced by a faint, acrid smell of disinfectant.

It was a laboratory, deep within the bowels of a biotech research organization, and he was in the hands of a highly-trained team of brilliant individuals for whom his care was paramount. But that was little comfort as his fear of what was being done to him grew.

The ECG signal quickened in concert with his heartbeat. The ten electrodes stuck to his chest connected him to the machine and tugged unpleasantly at his skin. Even worse were the twenty-one electrodes covering his shaved scalp, connected by wires to an electroencephalogram machine that measured the electrical activity of his brain.

They made him feel like a lab rat in an experiment. Which, he realized uncomfortably, was precisely what he was.

His gaze traveled the length of the long tube that culminated in a transparent, plastic syringe filled with a clear fluid. The syringe emptied as the fluid entered the median cubital vein in his upper right forearm. It felt cold and he fought back a surprised gasp. The chill swept like a wintry draught along the length of his arm and entered his chest.

Benoit struggled to control his breathing, his heart now racing as his fear escalated. The coldness permeated his brain. This time, he couldnt control the gasp that burst from his dry mouth.

A white-coated man with thinning brown hair and intense dark eyes checked the syringe was empty before removing the needle from Benoits arm. A biochemist, his name was Pierre Lacoux. He smiled reassuringly. Its okay. Everything is fine.

It feels like ice entering my head.

Because the fluid is colder than the temperature of your blood, he explained. Injecting the compound at lower temperatures keeps it stable and produces the best results in our test subjects. It wont harm you and the sensation wont last long.

Behind Lacoux, several white-coated figures fussed over a set of trays standing on a trolley with wheels. Upon entering the room, he had been informed that this was a crash cart containing medical equipment to be used in case of cardiac arresta defibrillator, suction devices, bag valve masks and advanced cardiac life-support drugs.

At the time, Lacouxs explanation was meant to be reassuring; Benoit would receive the best possible care. Now, the presence of the cart added to his unease.

A tall, powerfully-built figure moved into view, his large frame dwarfing the slender Lacoux. In contrast to the scientists in the room, Devin Halle looked extremely fit, with a flint-hard face. He wore military fatigues and was studying him with concern. How do you feel?

He fought back his fear. It feels like the mistral is blowing down from the Alps and through my head. But apart from that, I feel no different.

The drug will take time to have an effect, said Lacoux. And itll be incremental. This is the first treatment in a program that will take months. Well stop and monitor the effects before we increase the dosage. We wont take any unnecessary risks.

He gave Benoit an encouraging smile, then turned to study a series of wavy lines with peaks and valleys, appearing on a computer screen attached to the EEG machine.

What do those lines mean?

The electrodes attached to your skull are sending electrical impulse data from your brain to the recording machine, which converts the electrical impulses into the visual patterns you can see on the screen. What you are looking at is the electrical activity in your brain, shown as a pattern of waves. Increased activity is indicated by a faster wave pattern.

Were monitoring the effect the drug compound has by recording these patterns, which well compare with your normal, pre-recorded activity levels. Its perfectly safe.

Benoit did not feel safe. He noted how, despite his friendly demeanor, Lacouxs intense eyes gleamed with anticipation as they studied his subject, reminding him of a pit viper hed encountered as a child while hiking in Martinique. His parents had fallen behind him and he had been alone when he came across the serpent lying in the middle of the trail. The snake had transfixed him with the same black, glittering eyes. Eyes that had held the twelve-year-old Benoit frozen with fear as the snake coiled before striking.

Too scared to move, he could only watch helplessly as the serpents diamond-shaped head lunged. The strike fell short of his ankle, but only just. As it coiled to attack once more, he had forced his shaking legs to move. Hed backed away, seized a heavy branch and killed the reptile with a blow to the head.

He had stood over the lifeless creature for a full twenty minutes, remorseful at what hed done, but proud of overcoming his fear.

It had been his first kill. Many more had followed later in his life, all in combat and all deemed necessary military targets, but each had left him with the same hollow feeling of regret.

He remembered how, when his parents had finally arrived, theyd been badly shaken by what had happened. The snake, they informed him, was deadly. It was called a fer-de-lance; French for tip of the spear.

At the time, it had only been a story he would tell his friends back home in Marseilles. Now, the memory became poignantthe snake symbolized what he was about to become for France.

The concern on Halles face deepened. We can find someone else to do this.

No. Im the best choice. He felt his competitive instincts stir at the thought, helping him control his fear. Those same instincts had driven him through years of intensive combat training, forging himself into the elite warrior he had become.

He had risen through the ranks to become a commandant, leading his own battalion in the Fourth Foreign Regiment of the French Foreign Legion, from which he was chosen to lead the most sophisticated operational trial in Frances military historythe Surobi FELIN trial.

These instincts had led him to place his life in the hands of this dark-eyed scientist, Lacoux, who studied him as eagerly as he would a mouse in a laboratory.

I couldnt do this. Halle looked around at the medical equipment, distaste on his hard face. Im curious. Why did you agree to take part in this experimental program?

For the benefits it will provide France. And I wont ask one of my men to undergo something I refused to do myself.

Youre still the same man I remember from all those years ago, Jacques, Halle smiled. Though he now worked for the DRM, the French Directorate of Military Intelligence, which controlled the program and had appointed him to oversee it, he had previously served with Benoit in the Legion.