The Kabul Incident(2)
In spite of his nearly unfathomable power, Gauss wasn’t Brazier’s focus. The magnetically-enhanced cyborg was under the care of the thin engineer’s field counterpart, Grace Talborg. Seated across from him, Talborg hadn’t looked up from her small computerized tablet once since they had unloaded from the massive military jet that brought them from the civilized world into the heart of dust and improvised explosive devices. The athletic woman with her thick mane of golden, wavy hair, gave every iota of her attention to the constantly scrolling stream of data being sent to her from the computers housed deep within Gauss’s brain. Brazier’s immediate superior back at Project Hardwired, the handsome Jason May, had regaled all the boys in engineering with tales of a stormy late-night liaison with the woman, but he doubted the veracity of such tales. She was beautiful, she was focused, and she was about as warm as a frozen TV dinner.
Brazier had to admit that in spite of the rather enticing way the perspiration flowed down Talborg’s neck and disappeared down into the intriguingly tanned skin peeking out from beneath two unfastened buttons, the thing taking up most of his time and attention since he’d gotten word of his assignment sat with one hand gripping the rear access point of the MRAP and the other hovering just over the trigger of the SCAR-H assault rifle resting across his lap.
Designed as the ultimate urban warrior, Designate Cestus had been created to be a perfect silent killer and assassin. Enhanced strength, speed, and senses were just the tip of the iceberg. The main weapons in the cyborg’s arsenal, aside from the knowledge of every form of armed and unarmed weapon combat his personality had been programmed with, were the twin silver and gun-metal gray mechanical arms surgically grafted to his body. Unlike Gauss, whose arms were highly polished chrome in appearance, the ones merged into Cestus were rougher, sharper, and deadlier in appearance, containing a utility-belt worth of vicious killing implements within that would have made Batman green with envy. Blades, garrotes, pneumatic darts, and more were all housed in the thick cabled machines. From the reports, Cestus’s weapons of choice were the ten-inch, razor-sharp titanium claws his fingers could transform into with a thought. The brown-haired former US Army Ranger enjoyed doing his killing up close and personal.
Eyes the color of frozen blue ice flashed, locking the curious engineer in their sights, nearly startling him out of his seat. Brazier’s face flushed a deep red. Somehow the cyborg had sensed he was being watched. The engineer’s mind ran down the list of abilities Designate Cestus had been given in his upgrade from normal soldier and came up empty with a practical explanation for the detection. A weak smile drew itself across his lips as he tipped his head in greeting to the man he’d be monitoring on the upcoming mission. A dismissive snort from the handsome, rough-hewn face of the super solider was the only response given to Brazier before Cestus returned his attention to the outside.
“Designate Cestus,” Brazier finally answered Height’s question, more than a little unhinged by his interaction with the living weapon he’d been assigned to.
“OOooo…you drew the short straw on this mission, huh?” The comment from the over-sized marine drew a horrified expression from the civilian.
Sergeant Height laughed loud, grabbing the attention of nearly everyone seated in the transport. Only the eyes of the focus of Brazier’s mission, the man codenamed Designate Cestus, remained locked on the scenery whipping past at nearly sixty miles per hour. The only things giving any indication that Designate Cestus was awake at all were his eyes constantly scanning and analyzing every inch of the surrounding landscape. From his briefings on the combat abilities of Cestus, Brazier knew the cybernetic warrior was reaching out with senses far beyond those possessed by mortal men. He was on full alert even as he sat still amongst a group of fellow warriors.
Cestus was every inch the weapon of destruction he’d been created to be. Alert and ready to kill at a moment’s notice.
Shuddering, Brazier returned his attention to the Height.
“From what I’ve seen, the other Pinos don’t like that one much.”
Confused, Brazier pressed the talkative soldier for more details. The engineer had watched countless hours of the various Designates in action on a number of ground ops, but he’d never seen…or even considered…what the personal interaction between the cybernetic super soldiers would be like. No one at Project Hardwired viewed the men as anything more than tools…weapons to be deployed when needed and put away, hidden from prying eyes, when they weren’t. The idea the Prime Designates might be more was intriguing to the man.