16 - The Pulse Bomb

16 - The Pulse Bomb


Elias took slow, measured sips of his coffee, his fingers curled tightly around the mug as if grounding himself. The room buzzed with quiet conversation, but he remained oddly detached from it all. His gaze flickered to the steam rising from his cup, lost in thought.

Elijah exhaled sharply and pulled Thompson aside, his voice low. “How long is this going to take?” he asked, glancing toward Elias. “We don’t have all day.”

Thompson sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Calm down, Elijah,” he said. “The guy’s been through hell. He’s probably just trying to settle first.”

Elijah didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. His gaze stayed fixed on Elias, watching the way he drank his coffee like it was the first real thing he’d had in days.

Across the room, Lucas leaned against the edge of a table, his fingers tapping lazily against the surface as he studied Elias from afar. “How long you think he’s been down in Black Ridge?” he asked.

Aaron folded his arms, observing Elias carefully. “No idea,” he said. “Could be months. Could be years.” He hesitated, then added, “But judging by the way he’s holding that cup, I’d say whatever time he spent down there, it wasn’t kind.”

Lucas hummed, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh? Didn’t know you were the type to read a man’s hands that closely, Aaron Johnson.”

Aaron blinked, caught off guard. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words.

Lucas let the silence stretch just long enough before chuckling. “It’s fine. I’m just joking with you,” he said.

Aaron exhaled through his nose and looked away, pointedly ignoring the warmth creeping up his neck.

Thompson finally stepped forward, walking back toward Elias with Elijah beside him. He stopped just a few feet away, watching as Elias took another slow sip.

Elijah, arms crossed, was watching him closely. He had heard enough small talk.

Elijah asked, "That lab you mentioned—where is it?"

Novak exhaled sharply. "You ever hear of WatchMakers Incorporated?"

Shane scoffed. "Private military company. Operates like a government within itself. You’re telling me they have the lab?"

Novak nodded. "Not just any lab. This one’s built beneath one of their facilities. I was sent there after I was recruited—or what I thought was recruitment. I believed I was working for the CIA. Turns out, I was working for the enemy."

Trinity leaned forward, skeptical. "What exactly were you working on?"

Elias ran a hand down his face. "Formulas. I was given data—biological sequences, unknown pathogens. My job was to refine them, make them more effective. I didn’t ask questions at first. Until I found out those formulas were being sold."

Thompson frowned. "Sold to who?"

Elias shook his head. "That, I don’t know. But I do know what’s being developed now—Protocol Q. I didn’t have clearance to know all the details, but from what I gathered, once it’s complete, whoever holds it has control over—well, everything."

Silence fell over the room.

Lucas spoke up from behind his monitor. "So, it’s a weapon."

Elias sighed. "The deadliest kind."

Shane glanced at Thompson, his jaw tightening. "We can’t let that thing get out."

Thompson gave a curt nod. "Then we infiltrate the lab before Protocol Q is completed."

Aaron straightened, his voice firm. "I’m coming with you."

Shane frowned. "We don’t know what’s in there. You don’t even know if you can get out."

Aaron folded his arms. "And you don’t know how to operate a pulse bomb. I do. Unless you want to take your chances disarming one on the fly, you need me."

Lucas, still focused on his monitor, spoke without looking up. "I’ll guide you from here. Keep an eye on security feeds."

Elias, who had been listening quietly, suddenly said, "I’m going too."

Thompson turned to him with an incredulous look. "You? You barely look like you can hold your own in a fistfight."

Elias smirked. "Maybe. But I survived—" he gestured vaguely, "—you remember that night during the war, don’t you?"

Thompson’s expression darkened, but he didn’t argue.

Elijah, clearly displeased, turned to Thompson. "You’re letting your emotions get in the way of this decision."

Thompson smirked. "My emotions are perfectly in check, thank you very much."

Elijah exhaled heavily but said nothing more.

"Instead of trying to wonder what's in this for me, why don't you go gear up and we can leave for the lab?" Thompson continued. He didn't wait for Elijah to say anything. Instead, he just turned around and walked away.



Trinity was perched atop an abandoned warehouse adjacent to the Watch Makers facility, her sniper rifle trained on key security points.

Trinity spoke into her earpiece. "Two guards by the main entrance. I can take them out, but I’d rather not draw attention."

Hera, crouched behind a loading dock, smirked. "Leave that to me."

A moment later, she emerged, acting drunk, stumbling toward the guards.

Hera slurred, "Hey! You guys got any—hic—water? Or a place to sit? My feet are killing me."

One of the guards frowned and stepped forward. "Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be here."

Before he could reach her, Shane and Thompson came from behind, neutralizing both guards in seconds.

"Effective distraction." Shane muttered

They moved inside. The lab was eerily silent, machines humming softly in the background. The deeper they went, the more advanced the technology became.

Lucas’s voice crackled through their earpieces. "I’m in. I’ve got access to the system. And, uh… you’re gonna want to see this."

A screen lit up with the classified details of Protocol Q.

"What the—" Shane whispered, staring at the screen. Aaron, who had seen the expression on Shane's face moved closer to examine the computer screen.

"What am I looking at?" Shane asked, still staring.

Aaron inhaled sharply. "This… whatever this is they're making, it’s not ready. But they’re damn close."

Thompson stepped into one of the rooms in the lab, the door clicking shut behind him. The air was sterile, humming with the quiet buzz of machinery, and the lights cast an eerie, bluish glow over the space. It was colder here than in the rest of the facility, a telltale sign of temperature-sensitive storage. Along the walls, glass cabinets lined with vials and sealed compartments held an array of unknown substances, each carefully labeled and cataloged. But at the center of it all, on a reinforced steel platform, stood the most important piece of them all.

A thick, reinforced glass case housed a single vial filled with a swirling, almost luminescent liquid. The color shifted between deep blue and violet under the overhead lights, a hypnotic and unnatural movement, as though the contents were alive. Above it, a massive, bold-lettered label read only one thing: Q. The letter was slapped across the storage box like a brand, a warning, or a declaration.

Thompson stared at it, his gut twisting. Protocol Q.

His mind flickered back to Cincinnati, to the vault buried beneath the city, to the classified information they had uncovered but never fully understood. Was this connected? Was whatever was in that box tied to the mystery they had chased for years?

He took a cautious step forward, the sound of his boots barely making a noise against the sterile floor. Just as he reached for the glass, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"Stop right there!"

Thompson froze, his hand hovering inches from the case. He turned his head slightly, catching the reflection of two guards in the glass. Both had their weapons drawn, eyes locked onto him with rigid intensity.

"Drop your gun," one of them barked. "Now. Or we’ll blow your damn brains out."

Slowly, Thompson raised his hands and lowered his weapon, letting it clatter onto the floor. He turned to face them, his expression blank.

"Who sent you?" the guard demanded.

Thompson said nothing.

The second guard took a step closer, lowering his rifle slightly as if debating whether to press for an answer. It was the opening Thompson needed.

In a blur of movement, he lunged forward, grabbing the first guard's wrist and twisting hard. The man yelped in pain as the rifle was torn from his grasp. Thompson drove his elbow into his jaw, sending him sprawling. Before the second guard could react, Thompson ducked under the barrel of his gun, grabbed his shoulder, and rammed him headfirst into the steel frame of the glass case. The man crumpled to the ground, motionless.

Breathing heavily, Thompson took a step back, surveying the damage. Both guards were down.

He wasted no time. Turning back to the case, he slammed his fist against the emergency release panel. With a mechanical hiss, the locks disengaged. He reached inside, wrapping his fingers around the cold vial. The substance inside pulsed under his grip, as if aware of its own deadly potential.

Thompson exhaled sharply. Whatever the hell this is, it can’t stay here.

He slipped the tube into his gear and picked up his gun, stepping over the unconscious guards.

They were running out of time.

"Guys. I have the formula. We need to head out now." Thompson's voice soared through the earpieces.

The alarm blared before anyone could react.

The heavy doors slammed shut, sealing them inside.

Lucas’s voice came through the comms. "They knew you were coming. I’m working on unlocking the exits, but it’s not gonna be quick."

Elias exhaled sharply. "Of course not."

The first wave of guards stormed in.

Gunfire erupted. Shane ducked behind a console, returning fire. Trinity, still stationed outside, took out a few from her vantage point.

Aaron was wrestling with a security officer when Shane came from behind, taking the guy out with a clean strike.

Shane looked at Aaron, eyes scanning him. "You good?"

Aaron nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

Then his expression shifted. His hands patted his vest frantically.

Aaron whispered, "Oh, God."

Shane frowned. "What?"

Aaron swallowed. "I think I just triggered the bomb."

A digital countdown appeared on Aaron’s wrist device.

Aaron let out a breath. "Okay. No big deal. Just need to disarm it."

Thompson turned slowly. "No big deal?"

Lucas’s voice came through the earpiece, very unhelpful. "Uh… that’s really bad."

Aaron muttered, "Yeah, thanks, Lucas."

Elijah was already scanning the bomb’s internal mechanisms. "This is not a simple disarm. If you mess this up, you detonate it."

Elias muttered, "Of course. Of course, this is happening."

Shane wiped a hand down his face. "You had to bring the pulse bomb, didn’t you?"

Aaron exhaled through his nose. "I wasn’t planning on triggering it!"

Thompson crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Didn’t I say this was the most terrible idea you’ve ever had?"

Silence.

"Okay, yeah, fair point." Aaron muttered,

The clock was still ticking and they all continued to watch Aaron dabble with the bomb. One thing became apparently clear as he worked.

They were running out of time.