Title: Specimen
Series: PRISM Agents, Book One
Author: C. Quince
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 03/11/2025
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 105100
Genre: Science Fiction, MM romance, sci-fi, interracial/intercultural, former military, spies, secret agents, aliens, vampires, covert missions, cosy mystery, paranormal, paranormal sleuthing, sci-fi fantasy, action, British humour
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Description
David Cortez, a decorated US Marine, is now on the run from his own government after escaping a top-secret CIA lab when an experimental medical procedure turned sour.
While lying low in Mexico, an assassin sent from British Intelligence tracks him down. However, Sonny from MI6, a British-Iranian with a cockney accent, offers David a choice: join his team, or be killed.
David chooses to work with Sonny, not only because he wants his life back, but because he feels a kinship with the man.
They’re also both in the unique position of being the only living test subjects with alien DNA in their blood. Could that explain the strong attraction between them?
Specimen
C. Quince © 2025
All Rights Reserved
Sonny opened the brief. Inside, the first page was stamped TOP SECRET in big letters, which always made him want to laugh, along with the usual disclaimers typed out manually from a typewriter. Sonny breezed past all that and looked at the mission itself. What he saw was a collected file on one man: former US Marine, last known employment in private security. The collected photos were from past ID’s like Marine Corps and the DMV, and included some candids and hospital patient logs.
Handsome guy, Sonny thought idly. Tan skin, short brown hair, a strong jawline. Sonny was unsure of the guy’s ethnicity until he clocked the name.
“The file is Sergeant David Luis Cortez,” Shepherd said. “US Marines scout sniper.” She sat down at the opposite end of the table to Guv. “Peak physical health while on duty,” she went on. “Loyal. Follows orders. Impressive stats. Fifty-two confirmed kills, one of which being a one-and-a-half-mile sniper shot from a thirty-storey window.”
Sonny felt equally annoyed and impressed to hear that. He was the trick shot in this division, and he didn’t need another hotshot coming for his wig.
“Served in Afghanistan, Sudan, and South America, as well as several black ops missions. Honourable discharge, moved onto private security and diplomatic detail,” Shepherd went on. “Assigned to US diplomat Philip Sherman, thwarted an assassination attempt, but fell victim to poisoning from thallium sulphate.”
Sonny leafed through the hospital files. These medical records were official, along with a copy of the death certificate.
Sonny guessed what had happened before Shepherd confirmed it: they had another resurrected government experiment on their hands. Sonny should know; he was one himself.
“His condition in civilian hospital deteriorated,” Shepherd explained. “Through an Army connection, Cortez was recommended for special medical trials, codenamed Trial X. His first round of tests proved successful, when not many subjects pass that stage…” She glanced up pointedly. “As we well know.”
Sonny kept quiet and lifted his cup to take a sip. The slurp was noisy in the quiet room.
Guv gave Sonny a warning look. Sonny stopped slurping and smirked. He’d made his point. He was a special case who’d survived testing and was worth his weight in gold. He got away with murder on a daily basis.
“So,” Shepherd continued, “the CIA faked Cortez’s death, and moved him to one of their black sites for further testing. Cortez was renamed Specimen X.”
Sonny turned the page and saw copies of top secret CIA medical files, including a colour photo of the poor bastard inside a tank filled with bubbly blue liquid. He was naked except for an oxygen mask over his face and various cables attached to his limbs. The photo cut off below the waist. Sonny, being a thirsty bitch, immediately zeroed in on the man’s toned abs and pecs, and biceps to die for.
Was it uncouth to lust over him in that condition? Probably. Did Sonny care? Not really.
In the photo the man’s eyes were closed. His hair had grown longer than the short army cut, and he also had a beard now. He’d be hot shit, if not for the fact he was stuck inside a human-sized test tube.
“Was it Wallace’s team?” Guv asked Shepherd, referencing a top CIA operative.
“We don’t know for sure,” Shepherd replied. “My mole was tight lipped about the department. But we do know they were working with their own version of Sample A-X, which is why I’ve brought this to the front of our queue. It’s amazing we got as much intel as is, considering their operation was all shut down and relocated after his escape.”
Escape? Sonny perked up at that. Excellent! He loved drama.
He flicked through more of the file, speed-reading reports detailing the subject’s general disorientation after the procedure, then his violent outbursts toward medical staff… But Sonny never trusted a doctor’s word on patients. Who wouldn’t get pissed off after being poked and prodded then shoved in a tank? Sonny could sympathise.
There were some printouts of shots taken from a black-and-white security feed showing the naked (and ripped) subject overpowering several doctors and guards in the lab in order to break down the door and escape.
Sonny felt vicariously proud of the guy.
He probably shouldn’t have smirked over it, because Guv and Shepherd noticed. “I’m glad you think this is amusing, Sonny,” Shepherd said haughtily, “because you’re the one who’s going to track him down.”
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Quince is a MENA-British author who lives in England, enjoys sci-fi and fantasy, history, and Halloween.
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