![]() ![]() Eric was a former Delta Operator, one of the hardest and toughest men John had ever met. The voice belonged to Eric Wise, the leader of Project StrikeForce and Assistant Director to the OTM. It had taken him that long just to relearn how to walk, to run, to fight with his prosthetic.Ī voice broke the whisper of air. It had taken six months after the mission in New York City, six long months of surgeries and physical therapy, to heal his wounds. The Implant in his abdomen provided a steady stream of drugs to enhance his musculature and his brain, even painkillers to numb the dull throb from the prosthetic where his left foot had been blown off in an explosion caused by a terrorist, Abdullah the Bomber. He was stronger and faster than before, and his Battlesuit and VISOR were just the beginning. The Office of Threat Management had recruited him, experimented on him, and turned him into a technologically enhanced killing machine. In two years, he had gone from soldier to terrorist to guinea pig. The roads were highlighted in yellow, the vehicles in blue, and his main objective, the series of low stone buildings, blazed in red. The C130J Hercules he had jumped from was a quickly moving red dot in the HUD as it disappeared into the night.īelow, his VISOR showed a ghostly overlay of information. The VISOR’s electronics quieted the rush of air to a barely audible whistle while his HUD displayed the rapidly decrementing altimeter. John Frist hurtled to the ground near the Iraqi border at over one hundred miles per hour, his head protected by his Visual Improvement System for Optical Recognition. ![]()
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