H.A.L.F.: The Deep Beneath

A.H.D.N.A.

 4

A.H.D.N.A  

Commander Sturgis ordered the Blackhawk helicopter back to the entrance of A.H.D.N.A., the underground home of the H.A.L.F. project. She pressed herself into a seat, strapped herself in and smoothed her navy blue pencil skirt. She pulled a small electronic tablet from the inside breast pocket of her jacket and glanced at her messages which acted as a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. The soldiers fastened their own harnesses and remained silent, apparently heeding the commander’s unspoken command to leave her alone.

To onlookers, Commander Sturgis likely appeared calm and in control. But on the inside, her mind was uncharacteristically rattled and she seethed with anger. She would have liked to lay the blame for the failed attempt to retrieve 9 on her assistant Sewell or her crew. Her anger though was with herself. She had bungled the mission and she knew it. Even though 9 had been sedated most of his life, his full capabilities suppressed, she should have foreseen that he could not be taken down by a few ex-marines toting guns. It was a mistake she would not make again.

“Tell Sewell to get the containment crew out here straightaway. They need to dispose of that dead scum and erase every trace of H.A.L.F. 9’s work out here. Not a single thread of DNA, do you understand me?”

The helicopter pilot nodded and passed her command along to Sewell on an encrypted channel. The containment crew would be on the scene within minutes. They’d collect the dead body and scour the desert floor to gather every bit of debris that may have been left behind. Then they’d irradiate the soil with machines designed to erase evidence of anything that once lived. When the morning sun came up on that patch of Arizona desert, there would be a sizeable swath of bare dirt and rock covered with dead plants and nothing more.

Anyone who dared to venture on the gunnery range may find the spot. She had no doubt the UFO nuts may have already put out the word. They seemed to have an uncanny way of spotting her special Black Hawk helicopters equipped with the same stealth technology as the B-2 Stealth bomber. MUFON, those so-called UFO investigators, may find higher than normal levels of radiation and the dead plants. They’d make a show about it and claim it was the landing sight of an alien ship. Commander Sturgis was unconcerned about the lunatic babblings of the alien enthusiast fringe. All she cared about was that no one find a clue about what had really gone down in that spot. They would not discover any evidence of the alien-human hybrid she had created or of the dead body of 9’s victim. Leave no trace.

The cabin of the copter was quiet save for the sound of the blades chopping the air. The six soldiers looked straight ahead and remained quiet. She was glad of it. She was in no mood for idle banter. Commander Sturgis returned her gaze to the bright white screen of her handheld. She had a message from General Bardsley, her commanding officer, asking for an update. Hell’s bells. He would go through the roof when he heard about the fiasco of 9’s escape. She did not respond to Bardsley’s message. I will have to consider how best to put this to him but right now I have more important things to think about.

Like how to get 9 back into her custody. Commander Sturgis and Dr. Randall had created 9 to be a killing machine, unfettered by human frailties of the mind such as guilt and mercy. H.A.L.F. 9 had shown no mercy to her soldiers, but he had displayed a weakness toward the teenagers. That concerned her far more than the fact that he’d killed a man. It was exactly what she’d been worried about and why she’d chided Dr. Randall for treating 9 more like a human child than the weapon he was supposed to be. Dr. Randall made 9 soft. But Commander Sturgis was confident that with Randall out of the way, she’d be able to train the softness out of 9. First I have to retrieve him.