Author's Note: If you have been following Ultra Somnium, this chapter used to be chapter 4, but I felt the flow worked better if I moved it to chapter 5 and changed a few details.

Chapter 5: Man of Action

WASHINGTON, D.C.

JUNE 11, 2009

1655 HOURS

Shane Waterbury had to act like he was on top of things, but the truth was, he was as close to abject terror as he ever came.

As he sat rigidly in the trailer that was serving as his temporary base of operations, he nodded like he understood what the scientist in front of him was talking about. He waited for the bespectacled man to finish before saying: "Bottom line it for me, professor."

Shane was always saying things like that. "Just give me the Cliff's Notes." "Let's hear the highlights." The kind of people Shane had to deal with all day long were the kind of people that had deep technical knowledge of their disciplines, and lots and lots to say. Shane had to find a way to take large information streams from various people, and quickly turn it all into a concise and easy-to-implement plan of action. Shane was the best in the world at this.

But this whole "people randomly melting" business was putting his leadership skills to a very decisive test.

Even if he didn't have the uncanny ability to cut through all the noise and arrive at the heart of the matter, Shane Waterbury would undoubtedly have gone far in life. He had a presence that commanded instant respect. Shane was a good six feet tall with deep black hair, chiseled features set into a tan face, large brow, wide mouth, the strong but graceful build of a quarterback, and his deep and resonant voice was a perfect complement to his rugged good looks. Shane could have been an actor, or a CEO, or a motivational speaker, but he was a man with one passion in life: finding challenges he didn't think he could overcome, and then decimating them.

This was how he had become the jewel in his employer's crown. And Purple Mountain made sure he knew how valuable he was. His compensation and benefits exceeded that of everyone in the company, except perhaps for the mysterious founder, Cooper Trask.

When Shane had completed his third tour of duty in the United States Marine Corps Special Operations Capable Forces, he had had many job offers awaiting him. Private military companies were hardly a blip on the radar of international conflict, but Shane had seen enough to know that it was a growth industry in a big way. And Purple Mountain had impressed him most of all, with weapons, gear and vehicles that the publicly funded armed forces could only dream of. Purple Mountain's advanced research division was especially impressive. Many defense contractors were chasing blue-sky ideas that looked sexy enough on paper to get government funding, but which any soldier with field experience would tell you were ludicrous. Purple Mountain's research was self-funded, though, and their only goal was to make things that could save soldier's lives. And the stuff was really, really cool.

So Shane had signed on with Purple Mountain. He hadn't spent long as a mercenary before being promoted to run entire units, then entire field operations, continuing his ascent until he'd reached his current position: Vice President of International Operations. An officer in the company with a significant ownership share. A seat at the table. The most respected voice in the corporation.

And honestly, he didn't aspire to anything more. Any further up the ladder would lead him toward a life that was more about meetings, and regulators, and paperwork. It actually would be easier work as COO or CEO, but International Operations meant his boots were on the ground. It meant he was there to fix things. It was the hardest job he could imagine, which meant he was exactly where he needed to be.

And then people in Washington D.C. started spontaneously melting, and he had the uneasy feeling that his job was about to get too hard, even for him.

The scientist squirmed in Shane's intimidating presence before answering: "The bottom line is, we don't know."

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. "We don't know," he repeated.

"No, sir. These deaths could be directly linked to Ultra Somnium… or it could be completely unrelated. We just need more time to analyze the situation."

Shane tried to keep his temper in check. He hadn't slept in two days, but neither had the scientist. These men were the best in the world and completely committed to their job; it wasn't incompetence or laziness that obstructed them. It was just that the science that had gotten them into this mess was apparently so advanced that it didn't point to a way out.

When Shane was frustrated by his inability to narrow in on an answer, he liked to reorganize his thoughts, to step through the events that had led to the problem in the first place. And so he considered the events of the past few days.

Shane had known for a long time of the Purple Mountain project known as Ultra Somnium. But he hadn't known much. He knew the name, he knew that it was being conducted in a secure laboratory somewhere in Washington D.C., and he knew that the goal was to create a new stealth weapon system, but of what kind, he had no idea.

Mostly Shane stayed out of the advanced research department's business. He didn't care how he got the gear, he just cared about how to put it to the best use, to get the job done and bring Purple Mountain's mercs home alive. Besides, although his relations with all of Purple Mountain's execs were quite civil, he never really felt at ease around Vernon Veers, the Vice President of Advanced Research. Veers wasn't really an executive; he was a pure scientist. And quite likely mad, to boot. His genius was indisputable, but his... social skills left something to be desired. Sometimes you weren't quite sure if he was all there.

Now, though, the hands-off approach to R & D wasn't an option; there was a rather large problem with Ultra Somnium. Specifically, with the secure laboratory that was its home. Purple Mountain laboratories were beyond state of the art, with safety and security protocols designed to provide multiple, redundant barriers of protection if anything were to go wrong.

And something had gone very, very wrong.

One of the barriers, the most extreme barrier in fact, was total and automatic lockdown. In the case of a catastrophic event, each Purple Mountain laboratory was designed to be completely sealed off from the outside world – no one in and no one out. Not even water or air; the labs were designed to be self-contained biospheres for months on end if needed, until whatever problem had arisen could be sorted out.

And this is exactly what had happened in the Ultra Somnium lab, without any warning that anything was going wrong. What was worse, the labs were designed to have full two-way communication between the lab's occupants and the Purple Mountain operatives on the outside. But all they got from Ultra Somnium was dead silence. Not even static.

The lab was completely shut down. No one could get in or out. No one on the inside could tell them what was happening.

And then, just when Shane thought his D.C. trip couldn't get any worse, people started to melt.

So what exactly had been going on in the Ultra Somnium facility? This was Shane's big headache: no one seemed to have the full picture. It almost seemed to have been designed that way. As if Cooper Trask and Vernon Veers had set the project up so that no one but the two of them knew the full details.

What a convenient time for Trask to be ascending Everest – completely off the grid, as incommunicado as the poor souls in the Ultra Somnium lab that might now already be their tomb. And as for Veers... all Shane knew was that he was somewhere in D.C. and not trapped in the laboratory, but other than that, no one had the slightest idea where he'd gone or how to find him.

The fidgety scientist waited patiently as Shane ran through the facts in his head. All that he ended up with, unfortunately, was a list of things they could not do:

They couldn't try to breech the lab, not without knowing what had gone wrong and what danger they might be unleashing.

They couldn't figure out what was causing people to dissolve and spread into sidewalk stains.

And they couldn't ask either of the two men who might have some answers.

Shane Waterbury was the ultimate man of action, and the only answer he could come up with was to wait and see. If something else went wrong, that would mean another clue.

"Professor," said Shane, finally coming out of his contemplative trance, "you wouldn't happen to have any aspirin, would you?"