The First

Chapter 7

Agent Harris strode into conference room B as if he'd worked there his entire life. He pulled a chair away from the oblong oak table and gestured for her to sit. Alexa sighed, took his noble offer and sat down. He nudged the chair under her; a bit too hard as the metal rammed against her Achilles' tendons. Then he sat and scooted his chair closer to her. Their knees touched and she quickly pulled her leg away.

"Sorry about that." His smile lit up the room.

Ughh. One of those chiseled chin good-at-everything good 'ol boys, not the kind of guy that interested her at all. "Not a problem."

In front of them sat a large laptop with a global map across the screen. Tiny red dots blinked. A new one popped up every couple of seconds. The screen looked like it had chicken pox. Alexa knew within a short period of time the screen would be full.

"What are they?" She knew the answer to the question but wanted to hear it from the F.B.I. agent firsthand.

Harris took a deep breath. "You know already, don't you?"

She nodded.

His eyes went tense, deep with concern. "Each dot represents an event that has occurred. As far as we can tell, the one in Salem was the first. The Department of Defense immediately thought terrorists; chemical or maybe biological? We do know they're no longer babies. Whatever happened to them seems to have happened at a genetic level. You're the best geneticist in the United States."

Alexa grinned. "World. Entire World."

His swift condescending smile irked her. "Dr. Mason, we're asking for your help. If there's any way to counteract whatever's causing these ... deformities, we know you're the one who can figure it out. You up for it?"

Alexa knew her answer before he'd finished the question. "Something else must be causing the anomaly. It can't be an isolated terrorist attack. Look at the map. It's happening across the globe."

More red dots appeared, slowly filling the screen.

"We figured that much. Or that the attack backfired."

"No ..." She tapped her fingers on the top of the table with her perfectly manicured, unpolished nails. "... this is something else."

"What?"

"I don't know yet. I'll see what I can come up with. I need you to procure a specimen for my research."

"The intel we've collected shows these infants can take a direct hit with a large caliber bullet. And though they bleed a bit, they heal rapidly."

Bullheaded government officials. Shoot first, ask questions later. "So they're able to regenerate tissue." O.H.S.U. scientists had been recreating tissue, specific body parts like ears, noses, and digits, for many years. Regenerative tissue on a live being, however, was a much different matter from recreating tissue in a lab.

"I didn't say that. I'm sure we can find a way to kill them. Even Dracula was killed." He laughed a deep guffaw.

The reference didn't impress her. She read the Bram Stoker novel in seventh grade. Since then she'd been too busy reading textbooks to bother with much fiction, and she sure as heck didn't take to fawning over sparkling teenage vampires or muscle-bound werewolves. Such were the posters in Teagan's room.

She stood and made direct eye contact. "Get me a specimen. I can't do anything without a DNA sample."

Harris ran his fingers through his hair. Alexa's eyes followed up his elbow to the flexed muscles in his upper arm.

Ughh ... Was he flexing to show off? I hate men that try to impress me with their body; a cock fluffing his feathers. That's all it is.

"Could you get DNA from a piece of flesh one of them chewed on?" His arm lowered and he straightened his suit coat.

"Or feces, urine, spit up ... anything, as long as the sample isn't compromised. If you do get some chewed up flesh, nothing can touch it after the bite, otherwise, our readings will be contaminated. Though I have a sneaky suspicion we aren't going to see a normal DNA pattern here. Something is happening to these babies on a genetic level of the likes I've never seen."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do about procuring some samples." Harris turned to leave.

"Mr. Harris?" She caught his arm.

He turned and she swore she felt his arm flex under his jacket. "You can call me Ross."

Boys.

"Ross." She accented his name. "I'll need military clearance at the highest level to access some databases no-one has seen in years."

"Will do."

"Oh ... and Mr. Harris ... Ross?"

"Yeah."

"Do be careful out there."

"Will do, ma'am." He gave her a slight nod and sauntered out of the room, the way one might imagine a cowboy making his way into the barren streets for a final shootout.

Ma'am? Did he just call me ma'am? She didn't know how she felt about that. Of course, as a mother, her natural instincts sometimes took over. Though other instincts began to flare again, things she hadn't felt since her husband passed away.

Oh God! Love? Lust? Maybe the need to have someone to wake up next to? No ... a warm smile to make the rest of the day worth living. Not that Teagan's smile wasn't enough. But the smile she wanted would send shivers up her spine and butterflies flitting about her stomach. Not make her want to lash out with uncontrolled hyperboles.

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