“A lot.”
“There’s a case of beer and a barbecue riding on this one, so kick some ass and do us proud.”
Reid chuckled. “Wilco, Tower.” He flipped down his visor and focused on the course. The objective, get to the other side. Human-sized targets depicting bad guys and friendlies would pop up from walls and buildings. Operators hidden on the course would fire live bullets and set off explosions in an attempt to distract him.
He crouched into ready position. “Waiting on your mark, Tower.”
“Roger, Game Show. On my mark in five, four, three, two…”
Reid rushed onto the testing field. Precise coordination and focus came together in a marriage of fluid movement. A human-sized target popped up. He took it out. The suit supplied extra power to his legs, and he scaled a low wall at full speed. The sensor in his helmet flagged a threat to his left. He shot it down, center mass. Mid-field, he snapped the head of a mannequin, and it lolled to the side in his wake. He didn’t phase through the buildings, but out of habit he calculated velocity, depth. The movement of the wind through the trees. Moving faster than the average human, he made his presence known by the sharp rapport of his automatic and the ping of bullets hitting targets.
Showboating wasn’t encouraged, but Reid couldn’t resist adding a little flair. Especially in the face of a bet he was about to win. He dropped under a barrage of bullets. As he rolled to his feet, he took out the final target with a head shot.
He returned to applause in the observation area. Fuentes, the Navy SEAL whose name was on West’s list, grinned. “Enjoy being on top for a hot minute. Just got the word—Navy is demoing next week. An admiral is coming in.” He slapped Reid on the back. “Sorry, bro. We’re about to make your course time obsolete.”
Reid froze a smile on his face but pleasure vanished. If Speaks didn’t have anything new to tell him, Fuentes might not get the chance.
Reid phased into the afternoon rush of pedestrians. Most headed for the underground subway entrance. A woman shot him an impatient look for blocking her way. No second glance for appearing out of nowhere or the golden glow surrounding him. Welcome to New York. Phasing years ahead didn’t cause the same energy surge. It pissed him off how a short phase from Arizona to New York lit him up like a light stick.
Sun warmed the humidity and a haze of smog. He started to sweat underneath his dark camouflage pants and black T-shirt, the standard-issue uniform, along with black boots, for test subjects in Project Samson. Reid entered Madison Square Park. Dog walkers and joggers weaved around him. Only a couple more weeks until the accident. Speaks had better show up with something other than wild speculations.
Up ahead, a skinny man dressed in a pair of Keds sneakers, an extra-long parka, ski gloves, and a red knit cap paced in front of the Southern Fountain.
“Make it quick, Speaks. I have to get back.”
“How many times have I told you not to say my name in public?” The hacker grimaced as if in pain. “Do you know what they’ll do to me? Are you sure you weren’t followed?”
A snort Reid couldn’t stop blew past his lips. The guy definitely had issues. Speaks always asked if someone had tailed him. The hacker never questioned how he could travel from Arizona to New York an hour after they’d talked on the phone.
“Yeah, I’m sure. What did you find?”
Speaks motioned for him to lean in. “I hacked further into Greenhill’s system. They’d buried it in a place they thought no one would find. Like my friend. The other day a woman went into his shop going crazy because her two-year-old kid had deleted documents from the family laptop. My guy found them, but he also dug up these files.” He shuddered. “It’s like I said—the government’s in on it. They put stuff in our food. They pump it into the water. They give us pills so we’ll watch reality shows that send out propaganda.” He jabbed his finger against his temple. “It gets into our brains so we won’t question shit and—”
“Get to the point.” Reid reined in the urge to strangle him. That’s what he got for trusting a guy who believed the CIA had brainwashed his mother into giving him an anal truth probe. “What did you find in what I gave you?”
“Emails and documents about one of Dent’s projects. Pairing the body armor with bionanotechnology. Molecules transfused into the blood that will make you guys superhuman.” Speaks’s eyes widened with excitement. “Hours without needing to breathe, cell regeneration, more brain power.”