Specter: Project Archangel

Chapter 5 | Code Red

The morning air was crisp and cold when Blake arrived at the range. Dawn was just beginning to break, painting the sky behing windows in muted grays and pale oranges. James was already there, methodically putting on body protection.

"You're early." Blake noted, checking his watch. 05:45.

"Couldn't sleep."

He was uncharacteristically silent, though his usual smirk flickered back whenever he caught Blake's eye, almost as if he was testing the waters, waiting to see if yesterday's breakthrough had changed anything.

Blake set up the targets. "Standard qualification course. Three positions, twenty rounds each." He gestured to the weapon case. "Pick your poison."

James selected a standard-issue Sig Sauer, checking it with practiced efficiency. His movements were precise, but Blake noticed a slight hesitation – almost imperceptible – before he took position.

The rhythmic crack of gunfire echoed through the indoor range, punctuated by the mechanical whir of targets being reset. Blake watched James' grouping with narrowed eyes. The shots were good – but something felt off. The spread was too wide, too inconsistent for someone with his level of training.

"Adequate." Blake said when James finished. "Again."

James reloaded, adjusting his stance. This time his shots were faster, but the groupings weren't as tight. One round strayed to the edge of the target.

"You're dropping your elbow." Blake commented.

"Sorry, sir. Been a while since I qualified."

Blake's eyes narrowed. There it was again – that careful mediocrity, that deliberate restraint. He'd seen it yesterday in the sparring room, and he was seeing it again now.

"Switch hands." he ordered abruptly

Something flickered across James' face – too quick to catch, but enough to confirm Blake's suspicions. He paused, then smoothly transferred the weapon to his left hand.

The first shot hit dead center.

So did the next five.

By the time James had emptied the magazine, the target showed a tight group that would make most marksmen envious.

"Interesting." Blake said dryly

James set the weapon down carefully, not meeting Blake's eyes. "Would you believe I just got lucky?"

"No."

James opened his mouth – probably to deliver another smartass comment – when both their phones buzzed simultaneously. Blake pulled his out first.

James lowered his rifle, glancing over with sudden alertness. "What's going on?"

"Code red. They're pulling us in." Blake said curtly, heading for the door.

James didn't waste time with questions. He simply fell in step beside Blake, matching his urgent pace through the facility's corridors.

When they reached command center, Ramirez was already there, which immediately set off warning bells in Blake's head. If they were pulling in operators from other assignments, this was serious.

Blake noticed the quick look of recognition that passed between Ramirez and James, followed by a barely perceptible nod from the latter.

"What's the situation?" Blake asked, scanning the tactical displays that covered the walls.

"Forty minutes ago, we lost contact with a CDC transport carrying samples from the Level 4 lab in Atlanta," Ramirez explained, pulling up a map on the main screen. "Initial report suggested mechanical failure, but satellite imagery shows signs of an organized intercept."