20. Chapter 20
Conall
He stood at the head of the conference table, his palms flat on the polished mahogany, staring down the other Alphas in the room. Testosterone and aggression filled the air.
These Alphas could mobilize most of the wolf shifters across the country, and the sheer power and dominance crackling through the room left everyone on edge. The supple leather chairs didn’t quite accommodate their larger frames, except for Ingrid Glazer, the female Alpha of the Alaska Pack.
Alpha Christopherson’s winter-pale eyes were cool and condescending as he impatiently scanned the room.
He wore a custom suit and a graphite silk tie, and he reeked of old money and privilege.
The Alpha position had been in his family for generations, but now Christopherson was the Council’s main threat.
Alpha Hagan wore jeans and cowboy boots, and his weathered face gave nothing away. Sawyer lounged at the table in a custom-made designer suit and no tie. Conall knew that beneath the facade, he wanted blood. The Alpha was tired of losing his Packmates to traitors.
Conall’s own suit made his skin itch. Jamie and Flint made sure his clothes didn’t embarrass his Pack, but his suitcoat and tie were long gone, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up.
He was also ready to get the fuck out of Washington.
The place made his skin feel too tight, and his wolf had been pacing and growling for a week straight. They both missed Riley.
He cleared his throat and straightened. The other Alphas in the room quieted down. Conall turned and nodded to Sawyer.
“Alpha Castillo has an announcement.”
Sawyer stared at Christopherson as he spoke.
“Last night, one of my Betas was killed in a facility beneath Yellowstone National Park. Malcolm Campbell took the brunt of a trip-wire explosion while protecting a medic.” Then he glanced around the room with cold eyes.
“He bled out and died on a concrete floor with shrapnel scattered through his body. The facility is another Apex black site.”
A heavy silence followed. Most of them knew Malcolm. He was the giant, irreverent Scottish Beta with red hair and a mischievous smirk. Christopherson’s expression didn’t change.
Conall folded his arms. “The facility where Malcolm died is a Cold War bunker built into an abandoned mine shaft. It’s being retrofitted as a laboratory by Apollo Genetics, stocked with millions of dollars’ worth of equipment.
The kind of hardware you use when you’re planning to modify and manufacture, not research. ”
He pointed a clicker at the large monitor on the right wall and began the slideshow Drew and Madison had hobbled together, clicking through the evidence.
The first image showed the cavern with timber beams and stacked crates.
The next showed the ApGen logo on a collection of shipping crates.
He kept swiping, offering explanations for each slide so the Alphas knew exactly what they were looking at.
The mineral-crusted geyser shaft, roaring with thermal energy. The monitor and modified EKG machines. The maps, spread out on the metal desk, including the one with X’s marking facility sites across the western states.
“Military personnel guarded the entrance. They were Apex Mentis soldiers.”
Christopherson spoke up for the first time. “How can you know that for certain?”
Conall stared at the Alpha. “Because both Drew Turner and Madison Castillo verified their identities through fingerprints and facial recognition. They wore Apex Mentis field clothing and were armed with MP5s and body armor. They’re dead now.”
Sawyer spoke up. “The bunker sits on top of one of the largest thermal energy sources in North America. Yellowstone’s magma chamber generates enough energy to power Cognizant abilities on an industrial scale.”
Christopherson’s eyebrow rose a fraction. “Industrial scale?”
“Yes.” Conall met his gaze. “Because Apex Mentis isn’t just kidnapping supernaturals anymore. They’re turning people into Cognizants.”
Thompson, the Midwestern states Alpha, leaned forward, his massive shoulders stiff. “That’s not possible. Cogs are born with their abilities.”
“Tell that to Commander Adrian Marlowe.” Conall’s voice dropped several octaves.
“The Apex Mentis administrator who ran the Roswell facility recently installed an implant of his own design. My high-level Resonant mate stood ten feet from him and felt his Compulsor energy. The kind that makes your body move when he tells you to. He verified to her that he’d replicated a Cognizant ability in himself, likely through surgical modification, hardware, and electricity. ”
“Fucking hells, why would Apex do something like this?” Alpha Glazer snarled.
“That’s not the worst of it.” Conall swiped to the next image, a close-up of the Holter monitor and modified EKG machine, sitting in custom foam, along with other machines Conall couldn’t identify. “This equipment is designed to monitor and increase electrical currents in the body.”
Thompson shook his head. “Why? Some Normals are jealous of Cog abilities, but most of them vote in every election to continue Cog registration testing.”
“They’re creating their own army.” Conall turned to Christopherson. “They’re not just modifying Normals. They’re modifying shifters too.”
Christopherson’s cold blue eyes flickered. “You’re suggesting,” Christopherson said slowly, “that Apex Mentis is doing this to shifters too.”
Malachi stood and leaned over the table.
“He’s not suggesting it. I’m tellin’ you it’s happening.
The Austin facility we cleared months ago held dozens of shifters who’d been implanted and modified.
A few shifters from Austin complained of strange symptoms and side effects.
After finding out about Marlowe, their doctor admitted some of them are exhibiting Tracker abilities, and a few can’t even fuckin’ shift anymore. ”
Exclamations of outrage bounced through the room.
Conall gazed around. “The registration push for shifters isn’t about protection.
It’s about finding and cataloging our strongest and brightest. They want every shifter tested so they can identify the ones worth modifying.
Most of our offspring would be on that list.”
Thompson’s massive fist came down on the table hard enough to rattle the water glasses. “That’s a complete betrayal of trust. Those bastards!”
“It’s also treason,” Sawyer finished quietly. “Among other things.”
“The map dates back several years.” Conall went back to that image.
“Fern Meadows in Rocky Mountain National Park is circled. That’s where a forest fire burned twelve thousand acres two days after a park ranger named Elijah Blackthorne disappeared.
They burned the evidence. I believe my mate’s father found out what they were doing and died because of it. ”
Malachi Hagan went still. “It’s the same pattern in Austin. We stormed the facility and pulled our people out, but it burned to the ground the next night. The Feds were in charge of guarding it during our investigation.”
Conall nodded. “It looks like Yellowstone is the next facility, and they’re in the process of setting it up.”
Christopherson’s expression settled into something measured and political. “I’m not denying this is significant, but without chain of custody on the evidence and proper authentication—”
“Who in god’s green hell gives a rat’s ass about chain of custody?” Malachi Hagan interrupted.
Ingrid scoffed. “You need to step aside, Christopherson. Your son is twice the Alpha you are, and he can’t be bought. Although several of my female Betas have thoroughly enjoyed having him in our territory while he avoids you.” She winked at him as Alexander’s face flushed.
“The evidence holds up.” Conall cut them off.
“My Pack’s Strategist is running the serial numbers as we speak.
The shipping manifests match ApGen purchase orders, and the military personnel were carrying DOD identification.
This is corruption and treason at the highest level, and they’re coming for us next. ”
Thompson’s massive fist came down on the table again. “They can take their legislation and shove it where the sun don’t shine. I vote no.”
“Building labs under our noses, the brazen fuckers,” Ingrid Glazer hissed, her pale eyes gone wolf-gold.
Alpha Christopherson’s mouth twisted in disgust. “They’re contaminating and tainting shifters, turning our people into—” He stopped himself, but the implication hung in the air.
Contaminated. Tainted. The words settled in Conall’s chest like something cold and sharp.
He thought of Riley and the way her energy crackled along his skin when she was angry or aroused, bright and alive.
Her generosity and reluctant kindness. Putting herself in danger to help others.
He pictured her helping Ash with a glitch in his shields, even though she should have been studying. And her mercy toward Anna.
His wolf snarled, pressing against his ribs, wanting his mate. Conall pushed him back with an effort that made his temples throb.
“My mate is a Cognizant,” he snarled, his power and wrath punching through the room.
“And I’m a Tracker.” He glanced at Sawyer, who was also a Cog Strategist. Everyone fell silent.
“So if you don’t want me to challenge you today, you’ll keep your bigotry to yourself.
” He stared right at Alexander as he spoke.
“It’s not the outcome. It’s the torture and kidnapping, the stripping of free will.
It’s the fact that they’re doing this without consent. ”
Christopherson met his gaze, but it was a struggle. “Of course. My apologies, and no offense to your mate. I hear she’s lovely. But the principle stands. What they’re doing—” He shook his head. “It’s perversion.”
“With all due respect,” Malachi drawled, his Texas cadence deceptively mild, “It doesn’t matter if they’re turning our people into Cogs or Olympic athletes. They’re doing it without consent.”