Prologue
Before all ofGeneral Davidson’s prisoners escaped…
It had been weeks—months, an eternity—since Phoenix had been taken prisoner by the military. Or, more specifically, incarcerated by General Davidson and his lackey, Major Stevens. It still chapped Phoenix’s ass that the military he’d faithfully served had betrayed him, locked him away and experimented on him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat. A handsome rat, that hadn’t seen daylight—or gotten any pussy—since he’d woken inside a tiny cement cell.
A usually good-humored kind of guy, Phoenix experienced depression for the first time in his life—and he didn’t like it one bit! It would have helped if he could have held on to some hope of rescue. However, no one knew he and the others belonging to his military unit—their captain included—had been taken captive. Those who would remark on their absence—family, friends, lovers—would assume Phoenix and the others were deployed on a secret military mission. Most likely, someone in uniform had already knocked on the doors of the next of kin, hat in hand, looking appropriately sober. There’d be no reason for anyone to doubt the claim that Phoenix and the others had died in service to their country.
And it wouldn’t be entirely a lie. He was no longer the man he used to be.
General Davidson claimed from the beginning that the medical experiments being performed on Phoenix and the other unlucky soldiers would benefit Canada and the world. How? That remained unexplained, and Phoenix had yet to see what good the many shots of liquid fire injected into his veins did. Didn’t understand what they hoped to achieve with the many physical tests they subjected him to. Really worried about the stolen semen samples, as well. He wasn’t ready to be a daddy.
If only Phoenix could speak to someone, anyone… Alas, while he knew his fellow soldiers inhabited the cells around his, they couldn’t communicate or commiserate—or plot.
Even those poking, prodding, and hosing him off when he got too sweaty from the fevers didn’t utter a single word. Assholes. Phoenix memorized their faces, though, for the day he managed to break free. He would have his revenge on every single one of them.
“Patient Seventy-seven, you are to face the wall and place your hands behind your back.” The robotic voice and command surprised.
“Ooh, sounds kinky,” Phoenix called out.
“Face the wall and place your hands behind your back,” the monotone voice repeated. Real person or computer? There was no way of telling, nor did it matter.
“Does this mean you’re not going to drug me for once?”
He received no reply. However, he did find it interesting they didn’t gas his cell, their usual modus operandi when they wanted to transport Phoenix from one chamber to the next. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d suddenly dropped to the floor unconscious. It annoyed, mostly because he’d woken a few times with his face sore and bruised. Luckily, his nose, jaw, and teeth remained unbroken, but he didn’t appreciate people messingwith his panty-dropping mien. Being pretty had gotten him out of more trouble than he could count—not to mention, helped ensure he never lacked for partners in the bedroom.
Curious at this change in routine, Phoenix tucked his hands behind his back. He tensed at the sound of the door to his cell opening. Should he flip around and tackle whoever entered? Make a run for it? He could try, but he would most likely fail. Not knowing the layout, and what he faced, kept him from acting. For now, it seemed best if he observed.
“Don’t move,” a gruff voice ordered, and Phoenix planned to obey until he felt cold metal brushing against his neck. He jerked to the left and spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the guy in the white coat standing behind. His foot connected with a satisfying smack, and the guy spun, losing his grip on the collar he’d been trying to put around Phoenix’s neck.
Before Phoenix could even think of taking a run for the wide-open door, Major Stevens filled the frame, and the prongs of a taser struck, sending Phoenix to the floor with every nerve and muscle in his body jiggling. He only barely managed to not piss himself, which would have been the ultimate humiliation.
As Phoenix lay there, cheek pressed to cold concrete, mouth partially ajar and drooling, the metal collar snapped around his neck and heavy manacles went around his wrists.
As he was hauled to his feet, Major Stevens grumbled, “Next time, I don’t give a fuck what the general says. We’re gassing your ass.”
The guy he’d kicked held a hand to his nose. “Dr. Levy doesn’t want the subjects groggy for the test. He thinks the drugs in their system are the reason why we’re not seeing results,” the lab-coated dude explained with a nasally twang.
What kind of results? Phoenix would dearly love to know what the fuck they were trying to achieve.
“Let’s get him outside.” Stevens clipped a chain to a ring on the collar and dragged Phoenix along like a dog. Phoenix stumbled, mostly because he tried to take in as much detail the area they traversed as possible. Cement hallway. Elevator going up. Exiting a building to a dark sky with a smattering of stars and a glowing full moon.
So close to freedom. So far from being able to escape. The major dragged him into a box-like courtyard. Cement walls all around, about ten feet in height and topped with barbed wire. A faint coppery smell reached his nose, and his gaze zeroed in on a dark wet spot on the ground. Seemed like someone had recently hosed the ground. Not reassuring.
The major crouched and yanked the length of chain he held so that he could affix it to a ring bolted into the cement wall.
“Don’t you think tying me up like a dog is a bit of overkill? Not like I can do much with my hands tied behind my back.”
“The cuffs actually get to come off for the next bit. Wouldn’t want you to dislocate something and ruin the experiment,” Stevens stated.
“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that to happen.” Phoenix couldn’t help a sarcastic reply.
Stevens removed the manacles from Phoenix’s wrists, which only increased Phoenix’s trepidation. What did the major have planned?
Apparently, an execution, seeing as how Stevens pulled a revolver from a holster inside his jacket and aimed it at Phoenix.
“Look at you, murdering a man who can’t defend himself.” A brave reply considering the quiver within.
“You’ll only die if the protocol failed,” was the major’s cryptic reply.
