Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga 4) Read Free Page B

three deafening blows of metal on metal, Creed destroyed the panel. 
    “And now,” Creed breathed, “no one can fix it without a serious amount of hardware and a whole lot of time.” 
    “Fantastic,” breathed Farrow as she reached back toward the door.  Evan could see her in the faint glow of the emergency lights that remained…filling the small room with red.
    “Let’s go,” Creed said de cisively, stepping in front of Farrow.
     

MetaMonarchs, Part 2
     
    “Let me be sure I understand, Kenneth,” the professor was leaning forward now, very much interested in the tale Williams was telling.
    “You say you’ve developed a serum that will change an average human child into something extraordinary?” 
    Both men were working on their second glass of Scotch after ordering the waiter to bring the entire bottle.  They didn’t want to be interrupted any further during their discussion.
    “Yes, sir,” Williams beamed with pride.
    “What is the rate of morbidity in your subjects?”
    “Admittedly, it has been high.  Essentially, I have found if the subject survives the first week after dosage, he or she is in the clear.”
    “What happens to those subjects who don’t end ‘in the clear’?” The professor raised a brow mischievously.
    Williams shrugged.  “The bodies are studied then disposed of.”
    “And how have you managed to create your entire Institute of Neurobiological Studies in California where you’re presumably able to conduct your—work, and remain untouched by authorities?”
    Dr. Williams leaned back confidently in his black leather seat, “I am above suspicion.  It’s easy to do when you’re far more clever than the authorities.”
    The professor found that incredibly funny.  His laughter was genuine, and ended with him nodding in appreciation of all Kenneth Williams had told him.
    “So what is it you want to know about the Monarch Program?” the professor offered, shrewdly opening the door for discussion without promising any alliance.
    “I am under the impression that it was a mind control program originated by our CIA to create the perfect assassins.”  Kenneth took another sip of his Scotch.
    “For the sake of our discussion, let’s just assume I agree with that highly simplistic definition of the program.”  The professor’s piercing gray eyes never left Kenneth’s face.  “How would the program be of interest to you?”
    “No, sir.” Kenneth smiled a wide, wicked grin.  “You misunderstand.  My program should be of interest to you .”
    A conspiratorial glint sparkled in Arkdone’s eyes that had nothing to do with the empty liquor glass in his hand.  “I’d be very interested in taking a tour of your Institute.”
    “That can easily be arranged.”  Williams was smiling, quite pleased with how well the conversation was going.
    “Currently what use are your…what was it you called them?”
    “Metahumans.”
    “Yes, of course.  For what purposes are your metahumans used?”
    “Many assignments where physical strength and stamina are essential.  They are all trained in the art of warfare including tactical and strategy, physical hand-to-hand and martial arts combat, all weapons ranging from crossbows to sniper rifles.   Of course, there is more.”
    “More?”
    “Yes.  Each metahuman is unique.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Well, for example, I have parties interested in purchasing anywhere from one to twelve trained metahumans.  The subjects are too young to be distributed to their sponsors, but my investors have been so impressed with what they’ve seen thus far, they’re willing to financially back their projects until the subjects’ training has come to fruition.”
    “Let me put it bluntly, Dr. Williams,” Professor Arkdone leaned forward and waited for his colleague to do the same before he continued.  “I would like to know what assignments would best suit a metahuman.”
    “That depends on the