My Hero Is a Cripple

The Baccarat crystal tumbler shattered in Culver Lancaster's grip. Shards embedded themselves into his palm, but he ignored the blood. The drug moving through his veins made his hands shake uncontrollably.

"Eclipse." That's what the street chemists called it, a new synthetic. Someone had slipped it into his scotch.

Julian Banks was already moving, the Chief of Staff slammed his hand against the biometric panel on the wall. The heavy, bulletproof doors of the penthouse office hissed shut.

"Sir." Julian's voice was calm.

Culver clawed at his tie, he needed release. The drug was an aphrodisiac weaponized to destroy logic.

"Get me..." Culver gasped, his knees hitting the carpet. "A woman. Now."

Julian didn't flinch, he looked at his watch. "An escort is a blackmail risk. A staff member is a lawsuit."

Culver dragged himself toward the leather sofa. "I don't care. Just get someone."

Julian pulled a burner phone from his jacket pocket and dialed.

"Handler," Julian said. "I have a Code Black, I need an asset deployed, the Ghost Protocol."

There was a pause on the other end.

"I don't care about the extraction fee," Julian snapped. "I'm sending the chopper to the designated coordinates. Have her ready in ten minutes, and make sure she's on a chemical leash. "