Four Corners, Colorado
February 22, 2020

We stopped a weapons smuggler today, real slime ball. He had a cache of weapons he'd stolen off some military base. Very ironic, considering...

Anyway, we'd been planning the assault for weeks. Chris got hooked up with the smuggler thanks to some friend of Ezra's. Probably the same friend that makes sure we can set up shop in an old federal building without any hassle from the cops.

Chris convinced the smuggler – local PD officer named Coltrane – that he knew a guy who could score some new Army-issue guns, which Ezra probably can. They set the deal up and we waited.

The takedown went as expected...mostly.

We were almost done. Everything was going smoothly, Vin had our back from high ground. Chris was facing down Coltrane while Nathan and Ezra were taking care of whoever popped up. But that's when it happened.

One of Coltrane's men had a hostage, some homeless girl who'd wandered in during the night, and he was threatening to kill her. None of the others saw what was going on behind Buck, but I did.

I always do.

Buck was standing in the loading bay of the warehouse, his gun pointed at the goon and his hostage – who stood just in the open-bay door. He couldn't see the sniper up in the window of the other building, none of them could.

I saw him – heard the hammer click back – and I knew I didn't have time to get across the street and up to the window. Not even I can move that fast, Hell, Zack can't move that fast.

There was only one option.

I lifted my gun and shot him. No one heard my gun over the others, or the shouting, but I did. I heard the bullets leave the chamber and I heard them hit my target. Two shots through the nose – destroyed the brain stem. Instant death.

Wouldn't Manticore be proud?

See, that's where the irony lies. We were there to stop a smuggler from selling stolen government weaponry when in fact I am – technically – a stolen government issue weapon, evidenced by the barcode on the back of my neck. Granted I stole myself but it is ironic don't you think? A stolen government weapon stopping someone else from selling stolen government weapons.

None of the others know about me, if you're wondering. Not even Buck. I mean, how do you tell someone that the government's been working to genetically engineer the perfect soldier for almost thirty years and I am the result of millions – if not billions – of dollars of research? Its not like its something that'll come up in casual conversation.

Besides, Manticore is looking for us. If they find me, I don't want the guys doing anything stupid to try and save me. I'll take care of myself. And if I can't save myself, then there's no chance six ordinary – well genetically ordinary – men can save me.

Plus...I'm scared to tell them.

Funny huh? A genetically engineered killing machine is scared to tell his friends what he is. But then, Zack would just tell me its safer this way. They can't betray me to Manticore if they don't know what I am. As long as they don't see the barcode, I'm fine. I keep my hair long in the back, just enough to cover it.

He doesn't know what its like to have to lie to my friends every day. To hide my abilities from them. To pretend to be less than I am. To hide JD – Manticore Prototype – in the illusion of JD Dunne, rookie mercenary. I wish I could just come right out and tell them. Show them the truth. What I am. What an asset I can be in the field...as me. But mostly I wish I could be honest with them. I mean, aside from Helen Dunne – the lady who took in a quiet little boy with a barcode on his neck and taught him what it was to love somebody – they're my only family. And family's honest with family right?

I wish I could tell them.

I just don't know how.

Maybe someday.