Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2) by Jacob Hammes

them. He knew the perfect place to stop the agents. If the opportunity presented itself, he would act quickly and be back home in no time.
    With the climate controlled interior of the vehicle making Stewart perfectly comfortable, there was no reason to keep the windows down. Driving from his home in Virginia hadn’t been his idea of fun, but the car afforded him many advantages flying wouldn’t. All he had to do was switch his license plates once the job was done and he would blend into the busy traffic without a hitch.
    He drove along casually behind the SUV, waiting for the perfect time to present itself. Then, he figured he could just swoop in with his lights on, demand the box or gun the occupants down, and leave. An SUV on the side of the road might not attract any attention for a day or two anyway. It might be just as well, gunning down the agents. His boss had mentioned the UOD a few times within the last few months and how they might present an unexpected obstacle.
    Regardless, following the agents proved fruitless. The only possible chance to execute his plan had been when the agents pulled up to the gate at the small airport from which they would be departing. He pulled his vehicle into the grass just a hundred yards away, watching as they were greeted by a uniformed police officer. Though he could take all of them, his boss had been pretty explicit that he should avoid being subjected to police interrogation.
    Leaving a bunch of dead bodies in an area that was sure to have video surveillance would only harm his boss and their company.
    Instead, he cursed himself for being too slow and tried to think how he could inform his employer without angering him too much.
    Stewart turned the car around and decided he would grab some food before heading home. The box was a loss, but it wouldn’t provide the UOD with any usable information anyway. They’d assume it was some strange weapon or an experiment gone badly and leave it at that.
    The real use for the strange machines would go on being a secret while Stewart and his boss continued with their business.

Chapter 7
     
    Amy didn’t know exactly what was going on. She didn’t know why there were federal agents asking her questions about where she had come from, or why those crazy people had come in trying to kill everyone. All she knew was the police officers had chased them off or killed them outright, but not before her doctor had been murdered. Now she felt a deeper emptiness inside of her the nurse, despite her niceness, couldn’t fill.
    He had promised to help her get better. Now she was left alone with people who didn’t speak her language, or know her plight, or care as much as she thought he did.
    It didn’t matter, though. The agents she spoke with now seemed to actually care about her. They had helped fight off the two killers and for that she was grateful. She promised them she would do whatever they asked, though they didn’t seem to be asking much.
    One of the men had a bright pastel shirt on and thick mutton chops which made him look comical, despite his badge and gun. The giant black man stood outside. She was rather concerned about him—he was menacing, despite his big smile and white teeth. The Asian woman, Cynthia, was nice enough. She spoke Spanish pretty well, too, but she seemed fake. The glove that she wore over one hand didn’t help her in that aspect either.
    Amy looked at it for too long, and Cynthia fidgeted uneasily.
    “Nothing?” Cynthia asked with a sad voice. “You can’t remember anything?”
    “Not even my real name,” Amy answered shakily. “I can’t even remember my own name. If I could tell you anything, anything at all, I would. Instead, I’m the subject of people like you trying to drag information out of me while other people seem as if they’re trying to kill me.”
    Cynthia sighed audibly. She didn’t want to press the obviously shaken girl, especially since she was getting nowhere fast. Instead, she simply took