Rogue Operator Read Free Page B

years was dying in front of him.
    What
am I going to tell his wife? That I was too weak to save him?
    He
damned himself for not being in shape, for leading a sedentary lifestyle. If he
had only taken better care of himself, he might have had more strength to pull
them both to the surface, but instead, here was Carl, most likely technically
dead, with these strangers valiantly trying to save his friend’s life.
    He
looked at Phil and shook his head. Phil’s shoulders slumped, his head dropping
against his chest. There was a cough behind him. Jason’s head spun toward the
sound and he cried out in joy as he saw Carl cough again, water spewing from
his mouth as the men rolled him onto his side. Within moments his natural color
started to return to his purple lips as he sucked in more fresh air, his coughs
continuing.
    “What’s
going on?”
    Jason
turned to Phil, his smile revealing all Phil needed to know. Phil jumped in the
boat, pumping his fist in the air, and as the boat rocked from his stupidity, a
look of horror crossed his face as he dropped down, trying to stabilize himself
and their craft. Gripping the edges, he sat down and tightened his life
preserver.
    “Why
don’t you head back to shore before you get yourself killed,” suggested Jason.
    Phil,
the only non-swimmer in the trio, nodded and grabbed the oars. Jason felt a
blanket being draped over his shoulders, and looked over to see one of his
rescuers standing over him.
    “You
need to get warmed up before hypothermia sets in,” said the man towering over
him. He looked to be at least six foot two, two hundred pounds, and his arms
rippled with muscles and what looked like a Special Forces tattoo of some type
half hidden by a short sleeved neoprene wetsuit.
    Jason
nodded. “If you could take us to shore, we’ve got clothes there and can get a
fire going pretty quick.” Jason pointed in the direction Phil was rowing.
“Straight that way, you can’t miss it, we’re the only camp on the lake I
think.”
    The man
nodded and turned, jabbing his finger in the direction of Phil. The boat’s
engines roared to life, and the craft gently surged forward, the pilot
apparently in no hurry. Jason began to dry his hair with the blanket.
    “Are you
Dr. Jason Peterson?”
    Jason’s
eyes shot open.
    “How’d
you know that?”
    The man
motioned at Carl.
    “Is that
Dr. Carl Shephard?”
    Jason
nodded.
    “And I
presume the man in the boat is Dr. Phil Hopkins?”
    Jason’s
eyes narrowed. “How’d you know that? Are you with the rental agency?”
    The man
chuckled, reaching behind his back.
    “No,
we’re not with that agency.”
    Jason
gasped, and tried to push himself through the gunwale as a pistol appeared. The
man raised it and pointed it directly at Jason’s chest, then squeezed the
trigger. Jason felt something hit him, but not with as much pain as he would
have expected. He looked down and saw a tiny dart protruding from his chest and
he pulled it out. He turned to Carl, to warn him, but it was too late, the man
already firing at his friend.
    Something
was yelled in a language he didn’t recognize as the world turned into a deep
fog. The boat surged ahead and as he was consumed by nothingness, he heard a
scream and a terrific crash, and he knew they had just run down Phil in the
tiny rowboat.
    Why
is this happening?
     

 
     
    Ogden, Utah
     
    Maggie Peterson screamed, screamed like she had never before. Her
instinct was to turn the car lights off, as if doing so might hide the horror
she now faced. Four men, all in black, their faces covered by ski masks, stood
in front of the car, assault rifles pointed at her and her daughter. But before
she could reach forward to turn the switch, two of the men rushed forward, on
either side of the car. She raised her hands to shield herself as they raised
their weapons and smashed in the side windows.
    Ayla
screamed, and Maggie spun toward her, reaching out. As she did, her foot
slipped off the brake and the car