Free Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2) by Jacob Hammes

radiation poisoning in that case. No, we’re looking for a device that may be emitting radiation, like a microwave or a radio antenna. This would have immediate effects on the body within the effective area that would not linger once the person has left that area.”
    “I’m aware of what RF radiation does to people,” Trish responded grumpily. “Nausea, headaches, fatigue—nothing this particular case exhibits.”
    “Which is why it’s so interesting,” Marcus mused. He stood in speculative contemplation for a moment. The team had always theorized that some super-Relic might exist capable of affecting everyone, but none of them wanted to entertain the idea. It would mean bad news for the team and everyone involved.
     
    “I hate hospitals,” Cynthia said, subconsciously scratching the glove covering her maimed hand. “I remember the last time I had to spend time in one of these places. They kept telling me this wicked thing would heal. Guess they were wrong. Jerks don’t know what to tell a grieving woman.”
    “Grieving?” Henry questioned from the driver’s seat of the sedan in which they were currently seated. They had been granted permission to land at Philadelphia International Airport which gave them access to the Delaware Expressway. The ride to the hospital was in the comfort of another government agency rental; an unmarked police vehicle loaned to the Division for the hour or two that they would need it. Though the backseats were plastic, it was better than renting something and wasting more time.
    The trip was a quick twenty minute jaunt down the expressway and into the inner city. They would only have to deal with a few crowded streets before they could find parking and finally find their patient in the biggest hospital in the city.
    “Yes, grieving,” Cynthia answered, holding up her gloved hand and flexing it dramatically in the light of the passenger seat. “I’m grieving for the beauty of my hand. This one was my favorite.”
    Henry chuckled. Stephen made a sour face that told Cynthia he thought she was serious.
    “Well,” Henry continued, “at least you didn’t lose it altogether. Besides, hospitals aren’t that bad. It’s where people come to get better. You just happen to be an exception to the rule, dear. In any case, it’s a shame I can’t come inside and help you interrogate our young witness, but I’ll be looking for a lead-lined box to transport this mysterious machine. I still want to figure out what’s going on at that dock. It seems like someone may have inadvertently created a weapon and killed themselves in the process. I’m looking forward to getting out there.”
    “Same here,” Stephen agreed. “It seems much more interesting dealing with a loony box than a loony woman.”
    The day outside had turned out to be beautiful. The clear blue skies held hardly more than a hint of the cold front that had moved through the area. It was a warm day and all of them were thankful the long winter seemed to have finally lost its grip on spring. Henry even had a window down and a hand glided alongside the vehicle as they drove. Humming along, he reminded Cynthia and Stephen of some young man who had recently found love.
    Though he had been catching more and more flack for being as old as he was, he was still an irreplaceable asset to the team and the Division. He may not be as quick on his feet as he once was, but he could still shoot the eye out of a gnat at 50 meters. His knowledge, especially when it came to setting up communications for the often-deployed team, was priceless. Marcus regularly commented on the fact that Henry could set up an entire network in the amount of time it took a team of electricians to replace one circuit breaker.
    Henry exited the expressway and jogged this way and that before getting on the correct road. It ran along the shore of the Delaware River. In the distance he could see battleships from the World War II era, moored as exhibits for tourists