Gone Rogue

A. McKay

(Andrew McKay)

Copyright © 2012 by Andrew McKay. All Rights Reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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I would like to thank my beautiful and most strong spirited fiancée Jaci. 

Of course my family for the support they gave, even if it was mostly headaches. 

A special thank you goes to SoLame Writers group and writing friends including Stacia Kelly.  

I couldn’t have written this without the inspiration from my cousin Zach who told me I was insane every time I gave an idea up.  Then I wrote it down just for him. 

A thank you goes to Leslie, for being crazier than I am with ideas. 

In addition, my Director (boss) Jarrod for always giving me compliments and a never give up attitude.  That goes along with the other officers I work with, always being amazed by my writing and letting me bounce ideas off them.

Then there is the janitor Dan, who always loved a specific type of scene.   I am sorry if I missed somebody, it wasn’t a maniacal trick, I just forgot to thank you, so thank you.

Also a special thanks goes to my mother for always being excited on what ever task I took.  I promise there will be another book with mothers involved.

Dedication

After reading the story, you will see a strong connection between certain family members, and this is why I dedicate this book to my Father.  He taught me the ways of life and that family will always be there for you.  I know that just completing this story made him proud, so I raise a beer up to you  and say “Thank you dad.”

To try the impossible, that was Slade’s mission.  He started to wish he had chosen a different career path.  Instead, he was stupid enough to try to become the top agent in a fucked up agency known as the Secret Sanctum.  His giant size barely fitting on his bed positioned in the middle in what seemed to be a jail cell.  He was not a prisoner physically or at least that’s what the agency said after giving him the addicting injections.  Then due to the security of the agency, you had to have a damn good reason to be leaving.  Otherwise, they would hunt you down.  The walls were white, and there was only one way inside the room with no windows for natural daylight.  The vents pumped air inside, making a gentle blowing sign.  It had to be summer but no way for agents to know until they went out on missions.

Rob Wesley made this choice when he became Slade.  It all happened on a fall night with the winter air starting to leak through.  Rob Wesley was doing his normal patrol, ready to make this very normal and slow night into a hell for the town.  His heart pounded to stay in his hometown, but his since of adventure drove him forward. 

“Thirty-four,” he said to his shoulder radio, his fingers twitched his voice a little shaky.  He couldn’t tell if it was the pure rush or it was the fear of the unknown. 

A female voice boomed over the earpiece, “Thirty-four go ahead.”

“Possible break in at the abandoned factory on Stathe Street.”  He had to lie; he had to protect the dignity of the small force if not for him for his blood brother.

“Thirty-four at abandoned factory on Stathe Street,” dispatch radioed back confirming his location.

The black and white patrol car pulled into the pot-holed parking lot.  Rob took a moment in the car steadying himself knowing this was the day.  The day that was going to change his life forever, and he knew it.  Windows followed the frame where the roof met the wall, which were so dirty you couldn’t make out if it was a moon or a light post shining through.  Some of the windows were knocked out from the old age and hiding in the dust that coated the floors.  A group of men stood at the end of the building staring at Rob as he approached closer to them.  They didn’t move.  Rob could feel their over confidence with their expression. 

A man came forward between the two over confident men, all wearing trench coats, and sunglasses.  “Rob Wesley,” the man came to a few feet to Rob.  “You will die today, but before you do, do you understand that there is no going back?”

Rob returned the intense stare and took a deep breath.  Something chilled inside of Rob and he felt as if the room darkened.  “What do I need to do?”  Rob asked

“Radio, officer down, and we will take care of the rest.”  The man said, for some reason reminding Rob of a Dearth Vader movie.  A smile seemed to form on the otherwise straight face of what he guessed was his new boss.

“Officer down,” and with that his fate was sealed.

“All officers, officer down, officer needs assistance, Officer down at the abandoned ware house on Stathe Street.”  The dispatch said, and officers started to respond on the radio with sirens flaring in the background.

“Officer fifty-seven responding.” 

“Zach,” Rob said aloud, knowing he would never see his childhood friend and blood brother again.  A bond he made with him that would never break now broke. 

***

The house was dark, lightning flashed through the window showing figures standing here and there.  Five men stood inside an unknown house to the agency until a month ago, when Slade investigated it.  They all wore identical clothes; the only difference was their weight and height.  The agency had two outfits, one was for tactical insertions, and the other was everyday wear.  The nice part was that Slade had his trench coat hidden inside the basement, ready for his permanent vacation.  This was the night Slade was becoming a rogue.

All the men with their black bulletproof vest over their black jumpsuits with their black headwear only revealing their eyes hidden by black sunglasses stared at Slade waiting for the command from headquarters.  The sunglasses designed to give instant video back to headquarters and listen to commands from Robertson, the captain of the Secret Sanctum.

  Slade might have been in charge of the group, due to five years of working in the agency and being the top assassin of to everything that went bump in the night.  His mission and his company’s mission were to kill everything not human.

“Slade to headquarters,” was said to the built in microphone and earpiece attached to the sunglasses.  “The house is empty, waiting for orders.”

“Clear the house and destroy it,” the voice of evil echoed in his ears.

Slade knew that this plan wasn’t going to work as he had planned.  Slade had hoped to blow them up in the vehicle they drove.  He had the bike, and they had a Hummer.  Slade slipped a hand in his pocket.  He eyed the other agents.  When no one was looking, Slade removed the marble that he tucked in his pocket and tossed it.  The milliseconds seemed forever until it hit the ground.  The thump made everyone jump.

“Slade, Nickolas, go check that out.”  A leading agent said

They ran to the door, a smile slowly creeping on his face.  Finally, Slade was going to get out.  The new plan was working perfectly.  The cameras built into the sunglasses were recording everything, and no one was going to be the wiser. 

Slade hit the lower step after Nickolas made the floor and tripped on purpose.  Slade turned so the camera on the glasses broke.  Slade knew he was free from being watched as the glass from the camera shattered.

“Slade,” his earpiece said.  “Your camera is out, do you need help?”

“Situation under control,” Slade radioed back.  Nickolas just sighed.

“How in the…?”  Slade cut him off with bullet in the back of his head.  He collapsed to the floor.  Blood pooled from the bullet hole.

“Slade, Nickolas’s reading is down, are you in trouble?”  Headquarters were going berserk with voices behind his dispatcher's voice.

“Yes, man down, man down, we need support.”  Slade ripped the radio off and smashed it.  Slade walked to a cupboard where he had earlier hidden an AA-12 when Slade’s did his pre-assigned stakeout.  He then reported that semi-witches lived here.  The truth was the house had been empty for more than a month.

Feet pounded down the steps only stopping when they reached the bottom of the steps.  Slade was already on the ground wearing the sunglasses that hid his eyes while he watched the enemy.  Slade knew that he had to look as dead as the others to pull the escape off.

“What the hell?  He’s been shot in the back of the head.”  Before he could draw his gun, Slade pulled the trigger of the semi-automatic shotgun.  The gun blew a hole through his chest and dropping him where he stood. 

Before Slade could move aside, two more agents came running down.  They threw a smoke grenade down covering the place in a white fog.  Slade knew they must have seen the video at headquarters from the newly dead agent.  The other two rushing down, Slade unaware of their location as he lit the side of the room up until the gun clicked.  “Damn!” 

The agents easily evaded the bullet and charged him in the dark basement.  The smoke easily camouflaging Slade He snuck up behind an agent and with precise movements of one hand over the guy’s mouth and the other on the back of his head he twisted like a bottle cap.  He waited for the smoothing sound of the spinal cord snapping. 

Slade grabbed a machete that he had on his side and with only seeing the gun on the side of his head, he bent backwards bringing the machete up slicing the arm off.  The gun falling to the ground after a round went off.  “Too close for comfort,” Slade said walking to the now screaming agent.  The agent was trying to stop his bleeding, the sunglasses needing to be pointing to Slade.  He grabbed the screaming man’s hair with one hand and with his other hand; he cleaved the head off the agent’s body.

“Hello, Sanctum, I know you are watching this, and I want you to know, that these agents were not well trained at all.  All I wanted was a few days off, but no, you couldn’t give it to me, so now I gave myself some time off.”  He dropped the head and walked out of the basement.