Soldiers of Fortune: Renegades
November 18, 1981 – Gillette, Wyoming
As his SUV stalled out for the third time in as many hours, Leroy Jethro Gibbs wondered what kind of idiots put a military base out in the middle of nowhere. He was fifty miles outside of Gillette, Wyoming, and even with all his training as a Marine, he was lost.
Of course, it didn't help that a snowstorm had blown up out of nowhere, the snow falling fast and hard enough to be virtually blinding. His windshield wipers running at full force were no match for the fury of Mother Nature, and he could barely see even a foot in front of his SUV. He was starting to doubt his sanity in even coming out here in the first place.
He gunned the engine the same time he stepped on the accelerator, but the tires of the SUV just squealed, throwing snow as they spun uselessly in place. Swearing under his breath, he shoved the shift into neutral and threw open his door, intending to get out and push.
The door opened all of six inches before it was slammed backward from the force of the wind. He grunted as he shoved his shoulder against the door, forcing it open, again. It took two more tries before he could get the door open, and he staggered out of the car, barely missing having his fingers smashed in the door as it slammed shut.
He walked a circuit around the car, studying the tires. Three of the tires were still sitting firmly on the snow, but the left rear tire had sunk down into a rut and was unmistakably stuck in the snow. Setting his shoulder against the back of the SUV, Gibbs braced himself against the ground and pushed. Then, there was a distinct popping sound and a fiery pain shot up his leg.
He collapsed against the side of the SUV, cursing his stupidity as he struggled to keep himself from collapsing into the snow. His damn knee was the reason he'd gotten a medical discharge from the Marine Corps in the first place; he should have known better than try and do anything that could make the still-healing injury worse. And trying to move a car was probably up there among the stupidest things he could have done.
He was still leaning against the vehicle, his eyes closed as he breathed through the stabbing pains radiating up his leg, when the sound of an engine caught his attention. Opening his eyes, he saw another SUV pulling up alongside his, and then the vehicle stopped and the driver climbed out, with considerably more success than Gibbs had earlier.
"Hey, are you okay?" the man called out, shielding his eyes from the wind.
"My car got stuck," Gibbs explained, straightening as the man came over to him.
"I see that," the man commented, idly, looking down at the mired tire. "You don't look like you had much luck getting it out."
"That's an understatement," Gibbs muttered.
"You need a lift, somewhere?" the man asked, after giving Gibb's car an experimental shove of his own. "Because I don't think this one's budging until the spring thaw."
"Thanks," Gibbs said, limping toward the other man's vehicle.
He climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him, and then he sighed in relief as he was hit full force by warm air from the heaters. The other man climbed into the driver's seat, letting a quick burst of freezing air before he shut the door, sealing away the howling wind.
"Where are you headed?" he asked, putting his vehicle into four-wheel drive and starting slowly forward. "You're an awfully long way from the nearest town."
"I have an appointment," Gibbs told him. "There's supposed to be a military base somewhere around in all of this mess, but I have yet to find it."
"That's funny," the man remarked. "I have an appointment at the same, mysterious military base. And I've had just about as much luck finding it as you did." Extending a hand for Gibbs to shake, he added, "Lieutenant Colonel Donald Lydecker."
"Marine Corps?" Gibbs asked, his interest piqued, but Lydecker shook his head.
"Army," came the answer. "I just got back from maneuvers overseas when I got this new assignment. You?"
"Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs," Gibbs told the other man. "United States Marine Corps."
Lydecker raised an eyebrow at his words.
"What kind of an operation are they running out here that they're recruiting from the Army and the Marine Corps?" he asked, but it didn't seem as though he expected an answer.
The rest of the drive was completed in silence as Lydecker tried to navigate through the worsening storm. At one point, he directed Gibbs to the first aid kit that he kept in his glove box, and Gibbs found himself pawing through the extensive supplies for something to bind his leg with.
Rolling up his pant leg, he wrapped an Ace bandage firmly around his knee, ignoring the throbbing pain that had lessened to a dull, burning sensation from the earlier agony. He was pretty sure he'd screwed his leg up; the only question was how badly, and if he would be able to fix it. He certainly didn't relish the thought of limping for the rest of his life.
Lydecker had spared him a quick glance when he'd started working on his knee, and now he nodded approvingly at the job Gibbs had done.
"They teach good first aid in the Marines," he commented. "But, you might want to make that bandage tighter. You want to keep the swelling down."
After feeling around the area, Gibbs concluded that the other man was right, rewrapping his knee so that the improvised brace was tighter. He didn't want to cut off circulation, but he also didn't want to risk his knee swelling up like a balloon.
After nearly half an hour of driving, they finally managed to find the complex they were looking for. A nondescript building was barely visible through the blinding snow, surrounded by a fence topped with razor wire. There were heavily armed sentries posted along the length of the fence, and the guardhouse was manned by more soldiers with heavy-duty firepower.
"Makes you wonder who they're trying to keep out," he muttered to Lydecker.
"Maybe they're trying to keep something in," Lydecker retorted, just as quietly, as they pulled up to the guardhouse. Louder, he added, "Colonel Lydecker and Sergeant Gibbs here to see-"
He hesitated, fishing for the orders in his pocket, and Gibbs took his own out.
"Director Renfro," he finished for Lydecker. "We have an appointment."
"I'm going to need to see some identification," the soldier, a lieutenant said, brusquely.
Gibbs fished his ID out of his wallet, passing it over to the guard. The man checked his ID, and then Lydecker's, and then he waved them through. Gibbs had been surprised at the quick check at the gate; he'd been expecting something much more extensive, especially with all the secrecy involved in actually finding the base.
But, his concerns were allayed after Lydecker parked his car and they got out. They were met by another pair of soldiers as soon as they'd gotten out of the vehicle, and had been escorted to the main building. They were patted down for weapons at the main entrance, and then they went through two more similar checkpoints before they were met by a stone-faced man in fatigues.
The man relieved their escort with a quick nod, and Gibbs watched them disappear rapidly back down the hallway, the way they'd come. He wondered what this place was hiding that had everyone so jumpy and on edge.
"I'm Captain Ramirez," the man said, as he led them down another hallway. "Director Renfro is this way."
Gibbs was expecting to be taken to an office, but to his surprise, Ramirez led them to a gym. He expected to see more soldiers working out with the equipment, but instead the room was being used by a group of about a dozen kids who, on closer inspection, looked to be barely old enough to be considered teenagers. The room was eerily silent as they worked out, the only sound coming from the equipment. Even the pair sparring at the back of the room were completely quiet.
From the look on Lydecker's face, this wasn't what he had been expecting, either, and Gibbs found his curiosity increasing by the moment. Ramirez led them to the center of the gym, and not one of the kids looked up as they passed. A few were very deliberately avoiding Ramirez's gaze, though, and he found that even more interesting than being ignored.
There was a woman standing in the middle of the room, watching everything, and Ramirez stopped beside her, waiting until she had turned and given him her attention before he spoke.
"Director Renfro," he said, quietly, respect clear in his voice, "I'd like to introduce Colonel Lydecker and Sergeant Gibbs."
"You can go now," Renfro said, in reply, and Ramirez practically bolted from the room.
"Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen," Renfro said, without looking at them. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here?"
Gibbs was, but probably not for the reasons that the woman was alluding to. Given Ramirez's reaction to being in her presence, and the man's obvious relief in getting away from her, he was starting to wonder just what he was getting into.
"Look around you, gentlemen," Renfro continued, breaking into his thoughts. "Tell me what you see."
"Kids using a gym," Lydecker said, giving the room a quick once-over.
Gibbs took a closer look, having caught a glimpse of a frown on Renfro's face at Lydecker's answer. On the surface, it looked like just that, a group of kids working out and staying in shape. But, when he looked deeper, he saw grim determination etched on their young faces. It was the same look he saw on new recruits when they first started training for the Corps.
"Soldiers," he said, quietly, and Renfro nodded in satisfaction.
"Imagine the perfect soldier," she told them, gesturing to the teenagers around them. "One who never tires, never falters, never hesitates. Instead of sending in one hundred soldiers, imagine sending in ten – and not losing a single one."
"You're training super soldiers?" Lydecker asked, taking a closer look around.
"Not just training," Renfro corrected him. "Breeding. These soldiers are the next step in genetic engineering."
"They're kids," Lydecker protested, and Renfro just shook her head in amusement.
"You two," she barked, and the pair of kids sparring at the back of the room snapped to attention at the sound of her voice.
They moved through the room until they were standing in front of Renfro, and both of them snapped off salutes when they stopped.
"Do you consider yourself to be in good shape, Colonel?" Renfro asked, looking away from the kids to glance over at Lydecker.
"I wouldn't be in the Army if I wasn't," the other man answered, immediately.
"Enough to take on a pair of kids?" Renfro continued, a strange expression on her face.
Lydecker just snorted out a laugh, and the taller of the kids narrowed his eyes at the sound. The other, a young girl with her hair cut into the same, harsh buzz cut as her partner, pursed her lips in anger. But, neither kid moved from their position in front of Renfro.
Renfro, for her part, moved out from between Lydecker and the kids, drawing Gibbs back with her.
"Whenever you're ready, Colonel," she called out.
Lydecker moved slowly around the kids, sizing them up, and Gibbs had the feeling that the other man was treating them like other recruits that he'd trained in the past. He had an even stronger feeling that it was a stupid move on Lydecker's part.
The kids made no move except to go back to back with each other, but their eyes tracked Lydecker, constantly. The boy seemed to be the more tightly wound of the two, his hands flexing slowly into fists as he followed Lydecker's progress. The girl was as still as a statue, perfectly motionless except for her eyes.
Finally, the boy moved, snapping a leg out to try and trip Lydecker up. The older man moved easily out of range, striking out a blow of his own that nearly caught the boy in the face. The boy jerked back, as though startled, but Gibbs thought he saw a flash of amusement cross his face as he moved out of the way.
Something was going on, and it became clear as he watched the kids spar with Lydecker. They stumbled, they missed shots, they telegraphed their blows, and Lydecker was able to avoid their attacks with ease. But there was a hesitance to their movements, not as if they didn't know how to attack, but as if they were thinking about how to make the next mistake.
"They're toying with him," Gibbs said, quietly, and Renfro nodded. "They're lulling Lydecker into a false sense of security," he continued, watching the fight unfold. "Waiting for him to get overconfident and trip up."
"They're two of the best from the X-Four class," Renfro told him. When the girl suddenly dumped Lydecker on his ass, pinning him to the mats, she smirked. "Still convinced that they're just kids, Colonel?" she called out.
Lydecker ignored her, glaring up at his opponents, who clearly weren't going to give an inch. Then, he smacked his hand twice on the floor, tapping out, and the girl moved off him. The boy reached out and pulled Lydecker to his feet, then they both stepped back, turning to salute Renfro, again.
"Anything else, Ma'am?" the boy asked, respectfully.
"That will be all," Renfro told them. "You can resume your workout."
The pair went immediately back to the mats at the back of the gym, moving into their sparring as seamlessly as if they had never been interrupted.
"This way," Renfro said, jerking her head toward the door. "I have more that I want to show you, gentlemen."
"You okay?" Gibbs asked, in an undertone, as Lydecker fell into step beside him.
"Those kids are damned fast," the other man grumbled, irritably. He surreptitiously stretched, something popping loudly in his back as he moved. "And they're good. Better than anyone I've ever gone up against."
"Exactly how they're designed to be," Renfro spoke up, having heard him despite his efforts to be quiet. "The X-series aren't just soldiers. They're so much more than that."
They continued down the hall, stopping in front of a door with another pair of guards standing outside. The guards both snapped off salutes when they saw Renfro, and the soldier on the left moved aside to reveal a numeric pad on the side of the doorframe.
Renfro punched a code into the keypad, placing her thumb on the space at the top of the panel for a fingerprint scan. A light flashed green, and then the door slid open with a nearly inaudible hiss. Gibbs and Lydecker followed her into the new room, and Gibbs was surprised to see what looked like a hospital nursery.
A quick count revealed two dozen incubators filling the room, all of them occupied. Screens above each of the incubators were monitoring the infants' vital signs, and nurses in spotless white lab coats moved among the incubators, checking on their patients.
"This is the future of Project Manticore," Renfro said, pride in her voice. "The X-Five series."
Stepping over to one of the incubators, Gibbs looked down and saw a baby girl with bright blue eyes staring up at him, curiously. He reached out to the baby and she wrapped her fist around his finger, holding on with surprising strength.
"In another year, she'll be able to break your hand when she does that," Renfro told him. "This is X-Five-Four-five-two."
"They don't have names?" Gibbs asked.
"They don't need names," Renfro said, dismissively. "Not until they're ready to go on missions, anyway."
"Always thinking like a military strategist, aren't you, Diane?" a new voice spoke up, and Gibbs turned to see an older man in a lab coat entering the room.
"Doctor Sandeman," Renfro said, with a nod in the man's direction. "Here to check on the X-Fives?"
"And on the newest recruits to Manticore," Sandeman told her. "These are them, I presume?" he added, nodding at Gibbs and Lydecker.
"Colonel Donald Lydecker and Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs," Renfro introduced them. "Doctor Charles Sandeman, the founder of Manticore."
"Pleasure to meet you both," Sandeman said, shaking their hands. "Actually, Diane, I'd like to borrow Sergeant Gibbs for a few moments, if you will."
Renfro shrugged, and Gibbs found himself following Sandeman back down the hallway to the man's office. As they walked, Sandeman glanced quickly down at his leg, where he had started limping as the pain increased from a dull roar.
"I can take a look at that for you, if you'd like," he offered, and Gibbs nodded, gratefully.
In Sandeman's office, he eased himself down into the chair that Sandeman offered him, rolling up his pant leg to reveal the bandage wrapped around his knee.
"That looks nasty," Sandeman commented, idly. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Tried to push my car out of a rut," Gibbs admitted, earning a derisive look from Sandeman.
"That was stupid of you," he remarked, as he moved over to a file cabinet. "Here, take that bandage off."
As Gibbs unwound the bandage, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Craning his head around, he saw a pair of eyes peering at him from the open doorway of an adjoining office.
"Don't be afraid," he said, quietly, trying to be reassuring.
The eyes disappeared, and then a boy in his teens stepped out from the other office, moving slowly toward him. His face was strange, distorted. He had an oversized nose, a heavy brow, and a curled lip. There was something almost canine about his appearance.
The boy crept toward him, cautiously, and then to Gibbs' amazement, he stopped a few feet away, leaning in and sniffing the air around him.
"Joshua, what are you doing?" Sandeman asked, sharply, and the boy jumped, guiltily. "You know you're not supposed to be up here," Sandeman continued, as the boy shrank into himself, whimpering softly.
"I'm sorry, Father," Joshua whispered, staring down at the floor. "But it's scary down there."
"It's the only place that's safe for you," Sandeman told him.
Dragging a chair around the desk, he sat down across from Gibbs and carefully felt around his swollen knee. Then, he uncapped a needle that was sitting on his desk and injected the contents into Gibbs' knee.
"It's a fast acting steroid," he told him. "It'll help the swelling go down."
Snagging the bandage from the desk where Gibbs had placed it, he wrapped it around his knee, again, binding the swelling down. Gibbs nodded his wordless thanks as he rolled his pant leg down again, and he turned to see Joshua watching him, curiously.
"You're not afraid of me," the boy said, softly.
"No, I'm not," Gibbs answered, and a beaming smile spread across the boy's face.
"Joshua was my first creation," Sandeman told him, watching the boy with obvious pride in his eyes.
"He doesn't exactly look like an unstoppable killing machine," Gibbs commented.
"Manticore didn't start as a military operation," Sandeman answered. "I was actually working to eradicate disease, to create a cure for all ills. But, then I started having financial troubles, and I needed funding. That's when the government stepped in. They would fund my work if I helped them create their super soldiers."
"So, why am I here?" Gibbs asked. "What I know about genetic engineering could fit on the head of a pin – with room left over."
"Diane wanted to find competent soldiers to help train the X-Fives," Sandeman told him. "That is why you and Colonel Lydecker were first chosen. But, I think you can bring something else to Manticore."
"Like what?" Gibbs asked, curiously.
"A sense of humanity," was the answer. "Everyone here was handpicked as the best in their fields, in order to create the best soldiers. But, they view these kids as nothing more than experiments. I think we need someone who looks at them as kids, not killing machines."
Gibbs looked over at Joshua, who'd migrated to his father's side, and he saw a hopeful look on the boy's face.
"You're nicer than the others," Joshua told him, with a hesitant smile.
"What do you say, Sergeant?" Sandeman asked. "Are you willing to help me make a difference in these kids' lives?"
"Where do I sign up?" Gibbs asked, and Sandeman smiled.
"Welcome to Manticore," he told him.