Chapter 78 BEHIND ENEMY EYES
Logan's POV
The Veritas uniform was like fire on my skin.
I walk through the compound wearing stolen credentials.
Guards pass without giving me a second glance, and I force myself to maintain a steady pace even though every instinct says I should run.
"New recruit?" A woman in a white lab coat stops me near the elevator bank. Her cold eyes stared at me behind wire-rimmed glasses, and a clipboard rested against her hip.
"Yes, ma'am." I keep my voice flat. "Reporting for orientation."
"You are late." She checks her watch with visible annoyance. "Orientation started twenty minutes ago."
"I apologise. The security checkpoint took longer than expected."
She studies me for a moment that stretches too long. "Name?"
"James Hendricks." The false identity comes off my tongue. "Transferred from the northern facility."
"Northern facility." She makes a note on her clipboard. "They are always behind on their scheduling. Follow me. I will take you to the observation deck so you can catch up."
I fall into step behind her, trying not to stare at the rooms we pass. Through reinforced glass windows, I see equipment that looks more like torture devices than medical instruments. Scientists in protective gear lean over tables where subjects I cannot quite see lie restrained.
The elevator descends three floors into the earth. My wolf claws at my control, demanding I shift and tear through everyone between me and the exit, but I shove the desire down hard.
"This is sublevel three." The woman leads me down another hallway lined with doors marked with biohazard symbols. "Where we conduct our more sensitive research. You will spend most of your research here once you complete orientation."
"What kind of research?" I ask because a new recruit would be curious.
"Supernatural enhancement protocols." She stops at a door marked Observation Deck Alpha and swipes her access card. "We are pioneering methods to extract and transfer supernatural abilities between subjects. The applications are revolutionary."
The door opens into a room that overlooks what can only be described as an arena. The space below is circular with a concrete floor stained dark in patterns that suggest repeated cleanings have failed to remove whatever keeps seeping back through.
And in the centre, chained to a metal frame that keeps them upright but immobile, is a wolf.
From the scent that manages to reach me even through ventilation systems, it's a female. She hangs limp in the restraints, and blood drips from wounds I can count from here.
"Subject 247." The woman gestures toward the wolf with detachment. "Alpha female from the western territories. Her pack was destroyed six months ago, and she was the only survivor we deemed useful for extraction."
"Extraction of what?" My voice stays steady through sheer force of will.
"Power." She pulls up data on a nearby monitor. "Every supernatural has a core that generates their abilities. We have developed techniques to remove that core and implant it in other subjects."
The horror of what she is describing takes a moment to fully register. They are ripping the supernatural essence out of living beings and using it to create enhanced humans.
"Does it work?" I force the question out.
"Seventy per cent fatality rate in donors."
Below us, scientists enter the arena wearing protective suits. They carry instruments I have never seen before and approach the chained wolf.
"Watch carefully." The woman taps the glass. "You will be assisting with extractions by week three."
One of the scientists places a device against the wolf's chest. The machine hums, and bright lights come up. The wolf's eyes snap open, and she screams.
The sound is not human. She thrashes against the restraints hard enough that I hear metal groaning from here.
"The extraction process takes approximately eight minutes." The woman narrates like this were a training video. "During that time, the subject will experience lots of pain as their core is forcibly separated from their physical form. We have found that anaesthesia interferes with the extraction, so subjects must remain conscious throughout."
I watch the wolf convulse and bite down on the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
"What happens to the subject after extraction?" I already know the answer, but I need to hear her say it.
"Termination." She states it matter-of-factly.
The wolf below goes still. Her eyes are open but empty, and the scientists disconnect their equipment. One of them pulls out a syringe filled with clear liquid and injects it directly into the wolf's neck.
She stops breathing.
"The next subject will arrive in forty minutes." The woman makes notes on her clipboard. "We have three more extractions scheduled for today. You will shadow the lead technician for the second extraction and assist with the third if you demonstrate adequate comprehension of the protocols."
My hands clench into fists behind my back, and I fight the urge to rip her throat out.
"I understand."
"Excellent." She moves toward the exit. "The medical wing is one level down. That is where we store extracted cores and prepare them for transfer. You will need clearance to access that area, but I can expedite your credentials if you show promise."
One level down. That is where Morrison's blood would be stored with other valuable samples. I am close.
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate the opportunity."
She nods and leads me back to the elevator.
The elevator rises, and my stomach drops. I need to get to sublevel four before someone recognises that I do not belong here. But the woman shows no signs of leaving me alone, and every second that passes increases the risk of discovery.
We exit on sublevel two, and she guides me through more hallways. This level houses living subjects waiting for extraction. Cells line both walls, and I catch glimpses of wolves and other supernaturals I cannot identify. They watch us pass with dead eyes that have already given up hope.
We round a corner and nearly collide with another scientist hurrying in the opposite direction. She is older than the woman and carries herself with authority that suggests a high rank within the organisation.
"Dr Jonah." The woman steps aside respectfully. "I was just giving our recruit a facility tour."
Dr Jonah barely glances at her, but when her eyes land on me, she stops completely. Her expression shifts through confusion to recognition to shock.