Free Spirit Breaker by William Massa Page B

as a quantum physicist with an almost obsessive interest in the supernatural.  
    Casca liked him immediately.  
    Mason had made a joke about one of the more tedious lecturers, implying the man shouldn’t discuss ghosts in a tone of voice that would even bore the dead, before diving right into his pitch. Mason had a vision that would change parapsychology and catapult psychic research into the twenty-first century. He had ideas, access to talent, and was sitting on a few prototypes that would revolutionize the field. It hadn’t taken long for Casca to become caught up in the parapsychologist’s enthusiasm. By the time they had parted ways, Casca was willing to take a closer look at Mason’s proposal. A demonstration of an early prototype of the necro-helmet had led to him quickly signing a generous check.  
    Casca wasn’t looking to make a return on his investment. He didn’t foresee a future where Mason’s technological breakthroughs would turn a profit. This was purely about expanding humanity’s understanding of the existential mysteries that had baffled philosophers and mystics since the dawn of time. Casca hoped Mason’s work might provide an answer to the oldest question of them all: Did human consciousness survive death?  
    It was a question that had kept Casca up many a night as he contemplated his sister’s murder. Over the years he’d hired the best psychics money could buy to inspect the library where the cult leader had driven his blade into her heart, desperate to know if maybe some part of her remained in our world. No one had ever picked up any psychic residue, and he hoped it meant his sister was at peace, wherever she was.
    After hearing Talon’s report on what had transpired at the Regional Nation Mall, it seemed like his investment into the Nexus Foundation had been the right move. As soon as he got off the phone, he had his driver take him to the airport where his private Lear jet was fueled and ready for takeoff. An hour later, he was in the air on his way to Ohio, fielding a series of calls with Dr. Mason. The Nexus Foundation and their Spirit Breaker program were about to get a chance to prove themselves in the field.

    ***

    Casca was planning on joining him in person, a development that caught Talon off guard. As a Special Operator, he was used to a lot of autonomy and didn’t like the idea of the billionaire looking over his shoulder during a mission. Talon had no problem operating within a team, but Casca was a civilian ill prepared for what he might encounter on the front of his occult war. He was still pondering Casca’s impending arrival when sleep overtook him.  
    The next morning, his chirping cell phone awoke him. Casca was already outside in a car. A quick shower later, Talon slipped into the back of the billionaire’s limo and they merged into morning traffic. He could feel Casca’s eyes on him, and he shot his benefactor a dark grin.
    “I know, I look like shit. Seeing dead people doesn’t agree with me.”
    He took a deep sip of the coffee he’d grabbed on the way out of the hotel and wished he’d spiked it with something stronger. He pointed to two small white streaks on his sideburns that hadn’t been there the day before.
    “A souvenir from last night.”  
    “The shock of a spectral entity passing through you can disrupt melanin levels,” Casca said.
    Talon shook his head with disbelief. “How would you know something like that? Wait, don’t tell me.”
    Rain pelted the windshield but the gray weather wasn’t impacting the billionaire’s buoyant mood. It was impossible not to pick up on the man’s excited energy. Casca reminded him of a gung-ho new recruit eager to take on the enemy. Once the bullets started flying and blood began to flow, he might change his tune.
    “So what’s the plan?” Talon asked.
    “Are you familiar with the Nexus Foundation?”
    “Should I be?”
    “They are the world’s leading experts on anomalous phenomena. A fancy