Luka Novak was a product of Deep State programs, hidden from the world most normal civilians knew of. Born into MK Ultra, modeled into the dark society to become a super soldier, battling other factions in the Deep State, battling extraterrestrial...
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General Harding sat in his office going through files and narrowing down on future weapons they could use in the program. His pen in his right hand tapping as he looked through the endless piles of candidates the analytical team had come up with. He heard a knock on is door. "Come in." He called out as the door opened and Jensen came in. He closed the door behind himself. General Harding's eyes gazed upon Jensen as the lines of his brow showed on his forehead. "Tell me he at least knocked himself out." General Harding stated as he looked back at the paperwork. "Well, not exactly. He is calm at the moment." Jensen spoke as he sat down in the chair. Jensen was finding it difficult to control their new weapon. He was a force to be reckoned with, and he had no off switch. General Harding looked over at Jensen as he sat with his elbows on his knees looking like he had been defeated. He dropped his pen and sat back in his chair. "Our first weapon we have is dysfunctional. He is defiant of every order, and rather do what he wants to do instead. I don't know how we are going to get him to work properly. He should have been terminated, but Dr. Malcolmson kept him as a vicious guard dog instead." General Harding admitted.
Jensen looked over and gave a small smile as he shook his head and sat back. "He has killed five men in the last week. He's up to thirteen now. We can't keep baiting him like this. We need to get him under control." Jensen stated. "Anything in those files Dr. Malcolmson gave you?" General Harding asked as he slowly kept going through candidates. "Not that I have seen yet. I've been more worried about him not killing everyone." Jensen admitted. "Well, the nice thing is the men are expendable. In good news, I think I have found our next candidate." General Harding stated as he flipped through the transceiver files. "Let me see." Jensen spoke as he got up. General Harding handed him the transceiver as Jensen started to look at it. The file came from the CIA archives of an agent they have currently. Agent Kyle-Ryker Wheeler: Special Forces/ Green Beret/Ranger. Suffered frontal lobe trauma due to RPG explosion. Honorably discharged due to psychotic behavior. Expertise in reconnaissance, hand to hand combat, and wet works, which is a term for the CIA killers. "This said he failed all the psychological testing." Jensen stated. He looked at General Harding as he looked through more of Kyle's paperwork.
"Yes, it does. He's the guy they call to get anything done. Which means he is good at espionage. He would be a good spotter for Novak." General Harding insisted. "Novak would kill him the first chance he got." Jensen insisted as he put the paper down on General Harding's desk. "I agree, that is why we are getting REGEN tanks in our sickbay. We will be fully equipped with all Space Program technology by the end of the week. Agent Wheeler is currently out on a wet works assignment. I need you to get Novak under control. Scare the hell out of this guy. It's going to be a good way to control and destabilize him." General Harding spoke. "What about the CIA, aren't they going to be pissed that we took one of their agents?" Jensen asked. "Let me worry about that. That's my job." General Harding said with a smile as Jensen smiled back.
Kyle stood in a lavish mansion. White walls, gold chandeliers, white marble floors. It was beautiful. Kyle stood whistling in the kitchen as he washed the blood off his black latex gloves. His black suit and white button-up shirt, splattered with blood as he kept whistling. The sounds of someone in pain coming from the room over. "Are we still alive?" Kyle called out with a chuckle as he turned the water off and started to walk to the living room. He walked up a couple of stairs as he watched the man trying to slide himself across the floor to his cellphone that was sitting on the coffee table. Kyle walked slowly over as he stepped his foot on the man's hand. "Now why the hell would you want to try to call someone?" Kyle asked as he knelt down and stayed on the man's hand as he tried to cry out. He was barely breathing. Kyle had already killed the man's wife and two kids. He had been torturing him for the last several hours.
