What if the genetically modified crops that we’re being forced to depend on for food weren't really created by man? What if they had a far more sinister purpose?
The silhouette in the doorway resolved into a Norwegian soldier who looked like he'd been recycled through Hell half a dozen times. Claret, his thermal sight over his right eye now, turned and nodded to Hathcock. The man was human.
"Kaptein Terje Halvorsen," the man said as he stared at the creature's shattered exoskeleton and burning, fatty flesh, an unmistakable look of hatred in his eyes, "at your service."