Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)

Despite that, Gordon had just gone outside what Endo felt was acceptable. When the elevator doors opened, the pair had walked up to the receptionist’s desk and asked to see Paul Stanton, CEO of the Boston-based tech company. When she gave an earnest smile and said that Stanton was on the phone and would be available shortly, Gordon took her head and smashed it down on the desktop.

“She’s dead,” Endo said, his hand on the girl’s wrist. He fought against his anger at Gordon. On the way up, Gordon had explained that he would be demanding any and all information the company had on the creature recovered from Alaska. This fell directly in line with Endo’s own goals. What the General hadn’t explained was that he would make these demands under the threat of extreme violence, severing all ties with the company and all access to any future discoveries.

But it was too late. The girl was dead and the act was caught on at least two different security cameras.

But maybe there is a way to—

Security guards burst through the door leading to Zoomb’s offices. Three of them entered the sparsely decorated lobby while one remained next to the door, propping it open with his foot.

Amateurs.

“Don’t move!” the chubbier of the guards shouted. “Don’t fucking move.” His hands shook while he kept the weapon leveled on Gordon. In fact, all four men were all but ignoring Endo.

It would be so easy, he thought, but he just slowly raised his hands. As long as he kept his hands clear here, he might find a way to secure a position in the company. Until then, he would aid Gordon, but not in a way that could incriminate him. He had arrived with the General, but he had yet to commit a crime on camera.

Besides, Gordon didn’t really need Endo’s help with the dirty work.

“She’s dead!” a skinny guard said, checking for a pulse on the girl’s neck.

“Hands on the back of your head!” chubby yelled. “Now!”

Endo complied.

Gordon did not.

“Do you know who I am?” Gordon asked, taking a step closer.

“Doesn’t matter who you are,” the chubby guard said. “Hands on your head or I will—”

Gordon lunged forward and punched the man’s neck. The man toppled to the ground gasping for air through a shattered windpipe. His death would be slow and agonizing. While the guard dropped to the floor, Gordon reached around to his back and drew his silenced pistol. The man behind the desk died first as a .50-caliber round ripped through his nose and removed the entire back of his head, splattering it against the Zoomb logo mounted to the wall.

Before the other two guards could react, Gordon twisted, ducked and fired two more times, coating the ceiling with gore. It all happened in a blur. Gordon had been a strong man before, but not exactly spry. Now he moved as fast as Endo. Maybe faster.

Gordon caught the now headless man in the doorway and tossed him into the lobby, where his blood pooled on the white marble floor. He then caught the door before it closed and turned to Endo, whose hands were still raised.

“Impressed?” Gordon asked.

Endo lowered his hands.

“Let’s go,” Gordon said.

Endo stepped over the expanding pools of blood and the bodies that created them. He took hold of the door when he reached it and motioned for Gordon to go inside. “After you, sir,” he said, but it came out quiet.

“Had to be done,” Gordon said, perhaps sensing Endo’s disapproval.

Endo gave a nod, but knew Gordon was wrong. Not one of these people needed to die. They could have waited for Stanton and spoke to him without drawing too much attention. Hell, they could have tortured Stanton for the information and Endo wouldn’t have cared, but this just didn’t make sense.

It was bloodlust.

And although the General had never shied away from violence, it always served a purpose. Their purpose. But now... Is he coming unhinged? Did the DNA bonded to his heart change his personality? He had heard that people who received organs sometimes took on the hobbies and food preferences of the donor. Some people woke up craving food they’d never had before. Could the General’s new penchant for killing be like that? If so, it didn’t come from the girl—Maigo—whose heart he now had in his chest. But the heart also held traces of the creature’s DNA. He remembered how Maigo had changed back at the BioLance facility. At first, he had admired her—marveled at her. She was a living kaiju. But then he had seen her kill.

And feast.

She took pleasure in it.

Maigo had changed from a human girl into a monstrous killing machine. It’s the creature, he thought. Whatever the giant they discovered was, the world was better off with it dead. For every Gamera protecting the planet, there was a Ghidorah, Megalon or Gigan to destroy all things.

Is that what Maigo became?

Is that what Gordon is becoming?