Free Perfect Mate by Mina Carter

between it and her fangs a siren’s call. Perhaps he’d do them all a favor and burst something critical. If that happened, all operations would be off. The cleanup would be shunted to another facility, the RAs wouldn’t be needed and Garry would be off the hook.  
    Just long enough for her to get him the hell out of here.  
    As she watched, Fitzgerald got it together. Rolling his neck, he closed his eyes for a second. A whiff of emotion-laden sweat assaulted her nostrils as he pulled at his uniform collar.  
    He opened his eyes to look directly at her, and Antonia read her own death in his eyes. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but sometime soon he’d find a way to have her killed.  
    This time for good.  
    “Remember your place, Major.”  
    This time his voice was calm as he turned back to the window. Lifting a hand, he flicked an intercom switch next to the glass.  
    “Start the procedure.”
    She stood, frozen into place, as she watched the machinery in cradles on the ceiling swing into action. The virus delivery machinery. She’d seen it before, but in the Bloods area there was one machine per room rather than the whole-scale factory production line here.  
    At the first whir of machinery, Garry’s head whipped around. Craning back, he watched as the delivery units rolled forward on the tracks. He paled, a wordless moan of terror streaming from his lips. Eyes wide with panic, he bucked and fought in the restraints as the unit crawled ever nearer. All around him the blank-eyed prisoners stared unseeing at the ceiling above.
    Antonia curled her hands into fists at her sides, nails biting into her toughened palms. She couldn’t let them do this…couldn’t let them infect him for no reason.  
    Half turning, she caught the eye of the guard at the back of the room. Instead of watching the room below, he held her gaze. One forefinger tapped his holstered pistol pointedly. The message was horribly obvious. Suck it up, or deal with a hollow point.  
    She turned back to the window, ignoring the colonel next to her, and forced herself to watch as the one person she counted as something approaching a friend was killed. Murdered.
    His fighting didn’t achieve anything. The gurney didn’t move. Exhausted, he stopped, eyes wide and pupils dilated as the unit trundled into place above him. It stopped with a click. As the needle started to descend, a dark stain spread over his pants at the groin.  
    “Awwww, bless him,” Fitzgerald mocked. “So scared of the widdle needle he pissed his pants.”
    She grit her teeth so hard she was surprised they didn’t break. Fitz was a dead man. She didn’t know how, when or where, but she would make sure of it. And, his death wouldn’t be an easy one.  
    The needle reached the end of its track. Garry closed his eyes. Antonia refused to. She refused to do him the dishonor of turning away.  
    Fluid built up on the tip of the needle, and grew until it was a greenish-black ball. It fell. Garry flinched as it hit his cheek, making a little splash-mark.  
    Go easy my friend, and rest assured you will be avenged.
    He gasped as the fluid disappeared into his skin. She knew how virulent the RA-17 virus could be, but even Antonia was surprised at how swiftly it killed. With seconds the room filled with gasping as Garry and those around him fought for breath with lungs no longer able to process oxygen. They spasmed, backs arching and heels drumming. One after the other, they slumped lifeless to the gurneys.  
    Dead. For now.
     
     
    If nothing else the Project was an efficient machine. Within minutes of Antonia leaving Operations, a transport convoy was being assembled. Already in combat uniform, she made a quick trip back to her room for her tactical-rig.  
    “Fuck!”
    Once inside the relative privacy of her room, she released the tumult of emotions warring inside her. She slammed her fist into one of the rooms support columns. Her head and shoulders were showered with