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Reunion: Chapter 8

General Corrin was not happy with the way everything was going at all. He walked down a well maintained road near the city park. It was one of the few places where he felt that he could think clearly. No officers constantly breathing down his neck in their attempts to get his attention. Here, he could have some time to himself.

HE was thinking about the reports of the Canis who had wiped out an entire squad of Marines singlehandedly. They had gone out on a routine mission only to find out that it was nothing but routine. He was told that they died instantly, crushed against the pavement so hard that he had been advised against looking them over. He did look at the images that were sent to his office in a cheap manila envelope. He had sent them out on the mission which got them killed. He was obligated to look over everything no matter how gruesome.

The bodies were impossible to identify just by looking at them. He wouldn't have been able to tell who they were even if the remains were scattered over a fifteen yard radius, it was one of the curses of being so high up in the chain of command, there was no time to get to know everyone. People who he had once become friends with were now statistics on reports, dead, wounded, missing, all numbers. Now they were blurry images taken by an MP who vomited after taking the images.

The commanding officer, a Colonel had filed an official report. In it was a bold claim that if it were to become known to the rest of the command structure, would cause panic. The colonel claimed that the Canis had to have been a Class 5 Specialist since the men had died when they were out of sight. Everything on the matter was being kept under wraps and was on a need-to-know basis, he didn't even tell the Prime Minister. The man would just yell or shake his head in disappointment.

General Corrin knew what needed to be done. He would need to activate the Elite Dog Catchers, something that had never been done before.

He settled himself on one of the many benches inside of the park and gazed up at the mosaic of leaves that flittered in the breeze. It had a soothing effect on him. A few people were walking around, they avoided him, not because of the uniform he was wearing, but because of the two armored guards who standing on either side of the bench. They had been handpicked for their loyalty and service record. When he first got them when he made the rank of Brigadier General, he had resented the idea of going out in the public under constant guard. As far as he was concerned, the common citizen was trustworthy, but as time went on, they blended into the background. He rarely even noticed them anymore, it was only when he stopped like he did now did he see them.

"Is this seat taken?" A man in a grey jacket walked up to the General, ignoring the guards who watched him from the corner of their eyes. General Corrin looked at the man, recognizing him as Major General Graff, head of Internal Affairs. He had called him since he ran the Dog Catching program. He would need his permission to activate the elite group.

"Go right on ahead." General Corrin nodded to the empty space next to him and Graff sat down, grimacing from the pain of arthritis. He was much older than Corrin and should have retired long ago, though he stayed.

"I'm sorry of I'm late." Graff leaned back to let the bench take all of his weight and rested his hands on his lap. "Normally these kinds of meetings take place back at HQ."

"I just needed some fresh air."

"Smog, just what the doctor ordered." Graff joked while taking in an unnecessarily large breath in. There was the hint of pollution that itched at his throat, though he would admit that it was much better in the park where the trees got most of it.

Corrin smiled at the light humor of still being in a city that was filled with massive skyscrapers and constant traffic that was silently swirling overhead as they spoke. "Ok then, I'll make this quick." His eyes flickered to the guards at either side of him. They were extra ears that didn't need to hear anything they didn't need to know. "Guards, will you give us a moment?"

"Sir." They both saluted and both walked off in the same direction without any hesitation or communication between the two of them. They stopped out of earshot, but still maintained constant visual contact.

Good enough. Corrin thought and returned his attention to the old man who patiently waited for him to speak. "You are aware of the situation with the Canis?" He asked hoping he wouldn't need to get into detail. Although he was sure there was no one listening in, he still kept on his toes. He wouldn't have been able to talk inside of the HQ since it was just full of cameras and listening devices and not even the kind used for espionage, they were in plain sight. It was a constant reminder of how much power the government had.

Graff scratched at a nonexistent beard on his chin where there was now just loose skin. "Yes, the Class 5."

"Then you know what needs to be done." Graff nodded silently. He was fully aware of the contingency plans that were in place and it worried him. Elite Dog Catchers were experimental and even unstable at time. There was a chance they would only cause more damage.

"I have the order forms filled out." Graff stated. They were sitting in the top right drawer of his desk in his office. He had filled them out as soon as he heard about the Class 5 and that it was still roaming the city, but he had hesitated to send them out.

"Good." Corrin said, not enthusiastic at all. He knew that pushing the Canis the way he did was a mistake, but he was too invested already. People were dying, but that was war and sadly he as in the position where his orders killed the people. "Do you think it will be possible to take it alive?" He asked, hoping that the capture of the Class 5 would help turn the situation around.

Graff crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He gazed out into the park where a group of children were running through and chasing each in reckless abandon. It was simple scene of innocents that was in danger in his opinion. He would rather have the Class 5 eliminated than risk trying to control it, but the whole operation was under General Corrin's command and if he wanted a trophy then Graff would need to deliver.

"You'll get him alive." Graff promised, not even sure how true it would be. Once the elites were sent out, it was a gamble. They may get the Class 5 without much trouble or they might kill him and destroy a city block. There were tons of unknown variables that fluttered through his head like a drunken butterfly, he had no idea where they were going.

"I simply asked if you could." Corrin clarified. "If this Canis is too much to take alive, then you can do whatever you deem necessary to eliminate the threat."

"Noted." Graff nodded and stood up, taking longer than Corrin due to his advance age. He waved off a helping hand. "I may be old, but not that old. Not yet." Once up, he stuck out a hand and Corrin took it. There were no goodbyes, they worked in the same building and both knew they would be seeing each other again once the Elite Dog Catchers had either succeeded or failed.

Corrin watched as the aging general slowly walked out of the park and back to his office where he would send off the activation orders. Graff took his sweet time, there was really no rush. If the Class 5 wanted to cause havoc, he would have by then. His men would have to flush him out and that was no small feat. There would be a lot of preparation to do. He would need to call up favors in intelligence to try and get an ID since they had images from a few surviving helmet cams that managed to get somewhat clear images of the Canis' face. It wasn't fool proof, the imagers were designed to identify humans, nit it would narrow the list own from thousands to a few dozen. Once he had everything in place, he would begin observations and then he would find the Canis. He had no doubt that he would find the Canis, it would just take time.

A scientist in a white lab coat sat at a desk in an observation room which overlooked a testing room. The walls of the testing room were lined with pods, thirty of them and each of them had a person in it. The scientist's job was to make sure they didn't break out or die. It had happened a few times before, and it was usually no problem since the people in the pods were often compliant, but there was no need to take risks when each of them were worth billions in implants and modifications. The loss of one would not be tolerated.

He watched the steady heart beats of each of the people, averaging around five beats per minute to keep them inactive. It wasn't true cryo since they needed to be let out once a month for exercise to stave off atrophy. It was merely to keep them down for as long as possible, they weren't the most stable bunch and if they got out, it would be havoc.

They were all criminals. Each one at one point was on death row for every sort of crime imaginable from murder, rape and even cannibalism of entire families. Officially, they had been executed, but were instead whisked away and offered a deal. Service for a pardon. The reason for using hardened convicts was that the procedure to modify them was extremely dangerous and very few survived. Over the course of the program, over five hundred had been introduced to produce the thirty.

Each one was capable of massive damage comparable to a Class Four Canis. Their brains had been tampered with to the point where there was almost more wiring than actual brain. They were highly resistant to any sort of probing a Canis might try on them to scramble their heads or read their thoughts. They had no fear, lobotomy could do many things.

On tip of the tampering with their heads, nanobots coursed through their veins giving them rapid regenerative capabilities. They wouldn't be able to survive losing a limb or their organs, but it gave them an edge.

There were other things that had been done, but it was all either under wraps or still under development which had been kicked into overdrive.

A message appeared on the screen to the right of the scientist who was fighting to stop from dozing off. He activated the message and gave it a quick rundown. It was in the form of a set of orders, but it had a special stamp at the bottom along with the swirly signature of General Graff. It was orders to activate all thirty of the Elite Dog Catchers.

The scientists had to read it more closely several times to make sure he didn't get any part of it wrong. It went against everything he was taught. Do not let them out unless scheduled. Do not let them all out at once. Though the orders were very clear.

He gazed down at the room with the pods, the silhouettes of the men who should have been killed a long time ago barely visible through the thick glass. Each one of them a killer whose only allegiance was to themselves in the end. Their psych evaluations would have sent them to an insane asylum if it were for their crimes and that was before the procedure.

With shaky hands, the scientist pulled out a keycard from his pocked at slipped it into a small slot. There, a long list of dozens of commands came up which were required to open up just one cell. He would be there for most of the night as the orders filtered through other parts of the facility that was housed far away from Mars on old research stations that floated above Jupiter.

In less than forty eight hours, there would be a ship filled with the deadliest humans alive heading towards the most populated city to hunt one being down.