After the briefing, Alex had asked again about his test results; he always did after one of his medical visits. Hammerson hated having to be evasive or deceive him, but he had his orders. Regardless, he didn’t think Alex was ready to hear all the information on his condition just yet. And Hammerson was damn sure he wasn’t ready to give it.

Alex Hunter was probably the closest thing Hammerson had to a son. Truth was, he was proud of him. In effect, Hammerson had been responsible for his very creation, bringing him back to the US after the accident and handing him over to the medical men. Afterwards, Hammerson had taken the young man under his wing and moulded him into the soldier he was now. And shielded him, sometimes from his own military command.

Unfortunately for Alex, his lethal skills combined with his amazing new capabilities meant he had become something more than just another elite soldier. A subject that exceeded expectations, the scientists had said. There were some who didn’t want just one Alex Hunter in the elite forces; they wanted 10,000 of them.

While Alex succeeded in missions that others couldn’t even contemplate, he was a high-value asset. But the first time he failed, the first time he stayed down or didn’t regain consciousness, then he would be wheeled into one of the military’s covert science labs and probably never return. Hammerson wondered how many months or years Alex had until that happened.

‘Sometimes I can feel myself changing – and it doesn’t feel good, Jack,’ Alex had said during the briefing. All Hammerson could offer was some slick response about such change being fairly normal, just the legacy of a serious trauma. Truth was, it looked to be the price of Alex’s life.

Hammerson sucked in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. It was always my decision, son. I can’t yet know if it was the right one. All Hammerson did know was that he would do everything in his power to keep Alex out of the labs.

EIGHT

Alex felt good today; a slight headache behind his eyes, but that was normal following one of his visits to the medical unit. He was looking forward to being back out in the field – he found it difficult to sleep well unless his body was being subjected to the physical demands and stress of a dangerous and complex mission. To compensate he had been spending half his days either in the gymnasium or on the track carrying hundred-pound weight discs in a backpack. Without the energy burn, his mind wouldn’t shut down properly and nighttimes were the worst. He was slowly learning to control his body while he was awake, but at night, in the dark, he couldn’t govern which doors in his mind were opened or the emotions that were unleashed. Night-time was the danger time, when he sometimes destroyed his room in his sleep.