The rhythmic, steady beeping continues for hours. Alex holds his mother's hand as she lays in the hospital bed, a look of tranquility and calmness masked by the tube down her throat. Intertwined wires spread across the bed into different machines around the room. A white blanket is wrapped gently around her legs and tucked behind her abdomen with a notepad and picture resting on her stomach.

Alex has drifted in and out of sleep all night, reliving the moment when he saw his mother lying on the kitchen floor. Visions of her on the brink of death, bleeding and crying, launch him from his sleep. He stands up and places his mother's cold hand in his and starts talking about his childhood with her, and the memories of them together as a family. Him, Blake, his father. Alex starts to cry, wipes the tears from his cheek with the sleeve of his yellow jacket and kisses her on the forehead.

    "I love you Mom."

Clemmons walks in with a to-go box filled with spaghetti from the cafeteria downstairs, and two cups of not-so-hot coffee.

    "Sorry it took me so long. That line downstairs was insane. I should have gotten the coffee last, but I guess it's too late for that now," he says with a nervous laugh. "How is she?"

    "Exactly how she was two hours ago, and this morning, and last night. She hasn't moved, or blinked. Her damn heart rate hasn't even changed. I just want her to wake up and be okay, Clemmons!" Alex responds with a cracked voice, tears forming in his eyes.

Clemmons sets the food down on the plastic stand at the bedside littered with candy bar wrappers and empty cups. He walks over to Alex and takes a seat beside him, hoping that on some level, he can appreciate his words and company.

    "Why couldn't you save her? What happened?" Alex's voice breaking.

    "I'm still asking myself that same question, Alex. I've been beating myself up for two days now, thinking of someway, somehow, that I could have helped your mother."

Alex shakes Clemmons' hand loose from his back. He stands up and grabs the pasta from the stand and tries to take a few bites before turning around to leave the room. He is stopped on his way out by two detectives, dressed nicely with badges hanging around their necks and ties flicking in the slight breeze from the vent above the door.

The older detective steps forward. His stance gives a sense of power behind his pale blue button-up shirt, and ash gray slacks. A half empty medium coffee is perched between his fingers as he opens his mouth to speak.

"We need to ask you a few questions, Alex."

"I've already answered your questions yesterday. I need some fresh air, can you move please?" Alex is irritated, and tries to force himself between the men blocking his exit.

"There's a few things we need to clear up, and some details we need from you. Five, maybe ten minutes tops and we'll be outta here. Think you can handle that?" The younger man asks, glancing over at Blake's motionless body on the hospital bed.

Alex steps backward and rolls his eyes. Grabbing a chair from the corner, he rolls it to the foot of his mother's bed and takes a seat.

"Let's get this over with." 

---

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Derrick Tomley is tapping his pen against the table to the speed of the second hand on the gold watch. Squad Leader Parrish is by his side with paperwork, folders, and pictures scattered across the conference table. They scan the documents, tediously looking for answers. A paper directly in front of Parrish has a series of numbers scribbled on it.

    "48.89 -102.36"

One of the rookie agents at the table punches the numbers into the GPS on his phone, pulling up a small town in North Dakota.

    "Winescott, North Dakota?" Mr. Tomley says with a sense of inquiry. "That son of a bitch."

    "Guys, grab your gear. Looks like we're going to North Dakota." Parrish slams his hands down on the table in excitement.

Some of the men surrounding the table have taken off the rucksacks and vests, relaxing in the office chairs lining the room, but stand up by the order of Squad Leader Parrish, throwing their uniforms back on. Georgie, one of the smaller men lets out a heavy sigh as he tosses his rucksack over his shoulder, mumbling to himself. Parrish belts out another order.

    "Georgie, since you don't seem too thrilled about this little adventure we are about to go on, how about you stay behind and clean the locker room until we get back, huh? And it better be spotless."

Georgie stands motionless while the other men continue getting dressed and exit the room, gripping his rucksack tighter he takes a deep breath and exhales.

    "Yes sir." Leaving the room, he heads straight for the lockers.

The only two men left in the room are Mr. Tomley and Squad Leader Parrish. Derrick Tomley has a look of victory fall across his face as he smiles, staring at the papers scattered across the large table.

Parrish, with his arms crossed at his chest, stands with confidence as he asks, "How should I proceed sir?"

Mr. Tomley opens his leather bag that is sitting in the chair at the end of the table. He pulls out a large folder with a couple papers inside and hands it to Parrish. The words "Project Lima Charlie: 114" written across the front with black permanent marker.

    "This is your next objective," Tomley says with a smirk.

Parrish grabs the folder and looks inside:

    "1998: Hiring Nathan Chase McDolen.

    Head of Project Lima Charlie: 114

    The extraction and propagation of Human DNA into reprogrammable nanoparticles for injection in robotic clones of disabled, sick, or deceased test units. Duplication/Militarization of test units for government and organization use for "Advanced Super Security Enforcement Tactics/ASSET" 

   2002: Progress of LC:114

    Trial Breakthrough. Subject 004 responsive after DNA transfer.

    2003: Redacted

    2006: Redacted

    2007: Redacted

    2013: Nathan Chase McDolen: AWOL/Deceased

    2013: LC: 114 Project Dissolved."

Parrish closes the folder. "So the next step involves Subject 004 and it's somewhere in North Dakota?" he asks while placing the folder under his arm.

"Whatever they did with the results of the trials involving that subject, the answers are in Winescott, North Dakota." Mr. Tomley picks up his empty coffee mug and taps his ring on the side.

Squad Leader Parrish grabs his belongings and heads out the door, meeting up with his team in the parking garage underneath the building. The eight of them hop into two black SUV's and head down the road.