The Great Escape Begins!

Malik screamed as his body arched from shock and pain. The heavy restraints groaned as he fought with all his strength to escape the agony that thundered into him from that machine suspended above him.

It was just suppose to be another test, like so many others they’d all suffered through the last few weeks. They’d given him something that made him kinda floaty and relaxed, saying that it was better he be conscious than asleep; something about getting better results. But by that time, the drugs were already doing their thing.

He’d been feeling no pain when they’d wheeled him into that huge stadium-like room. Maybe this test was like a x-ray, he mused, as red lights started flashing and a voice started a countdown. At Zero the agony began.

Conscious thought left him. It wasn’t like the pain from injuries he had while playing sports before his mutation. This was as if he was being torn apart and examined from his bones to the very thoughts in his head. Even the things he’d even hidden from himself or forgotten were all ripped to pieces and studied.

However the worse of it was that it went on and on, seemingly forever.

The next thing he remembered was yanking himself upward, shivering in shock, the tattered remains of the bands and steel still fastened to him where he ripped them free.

Forcing his mind to work, he saw they were all still in the labs in one of the wards. He heard a girl’s scream that was lost in a screech of tortured steel being torn. Lizzie, his brains tried to tell him. A scared, frightened Lizzie who’d been through the same thing he had. Hands shaking he tore the remains of his own restraints from him. Malik wasn’t sure what had been done to them, but no one wanted that powerful little girl going into a berserk tantrum.

Stumbling to his feet, he had to help her. He steadied himself as a wave of nausea passed though him. Fighting off the urge to gag he stood by pure willpower. Still shaking, he promised himself something afterwards. He would find out just what in the hell had happened, and perhaps he would be having a tantrum of his own.

Amanda cried out, waking from the terrible nightmare that had no end. Her stomach was in knots, and she needed to void herself, now. However she was tied down. The constant light breezes that had bedeviled her ever since her change now howled around her like a tornado.

“Hold on Girlfriend” a familiar voice shouted over the storm.

Suddenly she was free and, appeased, the winds slackened. Limply she slumped to the floor, trying not to spew. On all fours Amanda weakly looked up. She saw two scientists cowering in the corner. What in the hell had happened?

Then Malak, supported by her magnetic power, eased down next to her. Sweat covered her friend and her pale face was even whiter. Whispering she suggested, “Let’s get to that sink before we both make a bigger mess.”

Nodding, Amanda pulled herself up. Feeling her girlfriend’s power help support her she hoarsely gasped, “Thanks.”

Malak weakly nodded back, obviously fighting off her own nausea, but somehow they made it before throwing up.

She heard the other of her friends having their own problems. A glance showed Malak’s brother tearing himself free of the reinforced bed they had him tied down to. Even though he looked ill too, the muscular teen ripped the straps from him as if they were no more than wet paper.

A scream and explosion of bed parts shifted her attention. Lizzie! She looked as sick as the rest of them. “Mr. Glenn, Vroom,” she cried in her misery.

She gave Malak the same look Amanda knew was on her face. “Oh Shit!”

Still bent over the sink trying not to heave again, they both knew that pint sized potential natural disaster had to be seen to now.

Stumbling, the girls headed that way, using the other beds to help them stand. This was all humbling, given since her life had changed, this was the first time she’d felt anyway other than energetic and healthy. That thought brought back the Nightmare. Every nasty thing she’d ever done to anyone or anything had been pulled out of her and thrust in front of her face.

Shaking her head, Amanda pushed those memories away. There was no time for that right now. Malik was already moving to help Lizzie like she and Malak were. Josh was still strapped down, but Billie had oozed out of hers like climbing out of a sleeping bag.

“Shhh honey,” she tried to calm Lizzie.

The smaller girl, crying and spewing, herself, had crushed one of those huge metal medicine cabinet things.

Amanda stopped, unsure what to do. Lizzie needed to be hugged and consoled, but sick she might hurt them, as strong as she was.

Billie solved that by throwing herself into the distressed 6 year old's arms. “It’s alright now Lizzie. Everything's going to be fine.”

Both she and Malak winced as the little girl turned and grabbed onto the stretchable teen with all her heart. Billie’s eyes bulged from those same arms that had trashed the heavy bed meant to hold the strongest people alive, but not once did she complain.

Not wasting a moment they too were soon hugging and comforting the sick child.

Malik seeing how the girls had everything in hand had found a small trashcan to relieve his own problem.

She was half-aware that Dr. Hathaway had come in and was explaining something about bad drug reactions, but Amanda was too lost in her own and her friends pain and illness.

“Amanda,” Ollie sent to her, “It’s alright. Don’t let the Doctor know I’m talking with you all. I’ll explain what’s really happened."

“What’s happened to Mr. Glenn? He wouldn’t let them do something like this to us?” she thought back at the Gray.

Still in the group hug she listened to the castaway alien as he explained.

Chapter 39

Monday September 29, 2008

Area 61

“Alan,” a voice cried out to her. She didn’t want to listen to anyone wanting to talk to him. But the safe dark place was growing lighter now and the places to hide were growing harder to find. Val knew that she would need to wake and to be him again. She also remembered it’d been her own choice to go back to being him. It’d been the only way to try to bring justice to those who’d caused her such heartache and pain.

“Alan,” it said again. The light was brighter now and the concealing shadows were fading away. He had always been something to hide behind. In her heart, she guarded her true self. When Justice had not been forthcoming, she’d taken it upon herself to help. To help all those, who like the ones she’d loved so dearly, had been besieged by the unscrupulous who twisted the laws for their own ends.

“Alan,” thrice it called. Unwillingly she put herself behind The Him, and pulled herself awake. “Yeah, I’m awake Mom. I don’t wanna go to school.”

Ollie replied dryly, “I’m not your mother, but please keep yourself calm. You must pretend to be still asleep while I explain what has happened. Your implants had some kind of fail-safe activation sequence. General Laramie used it to knock you out last Saturday.”

“Well that explains why my head is killing me. At least I’m not the only one who underestimated Doc. How long have I been out?” Alan asked.

“Two days,” Ollie answered.

Remembering Saturday, a cold shiver ran down his back. Trying to remain still he asked, “The kids! Are they okay?”

Alan could hear Ollie’s mental sigh, “With you unconscious, Maggie and I didn’t dare try to interfere. They were exposed to the Z-Ray, but have suffered no lasting ill effects. They have all recovered and are fine. What concerns us is you. They had you hooked up to a machine that was to erase your memories of the last few weeks. For some reason beyond us, Dr. Hathaway intervened. It is imperative that you play along and pretend you still think it is the first of September.”

Alan gave a mental nod, sighing. They’d failed to save the kids from getting zapped by Doc, but at least it seemed they’d survived. Doc, had outwitted Maggie, but what galled him was that Laramie of all people had outfoxed him. “Alright what’s happening right now?” he asked.

“Security is very unhappy my friend,” Ollie answered. “They found nearly every computer in the administration section stripped of parts. In our favor, no one has discovered that Big Mac has lost his personality. Apparently he started some kind of cover for himself by arguing with his handlers that if they just wanted him to be ‘a dumb, stupid computer so that will be what they will get‘. This is not the first time he has been difficult, so his ruse should buy us some time.

“However once they start putting the pieces together it won’t take them long to figure out our little puzzle. Then we will have a problem. Big Mac’s escape will have them searching every square millimeter of this facility. My precautions and blinds have withstood many years of inspections, but a determined search will reveal the club house and my quarters,” Ollie pointed out.

“Maggie is still upset at herself that she missed the 'backdoor' in your implants. She is working on what happened as well as something else, but is keeping it a secret. The Rocket is prepped and my remotes show that the silo is usable."

"Big Mac’s portable rescue unit is functioning within tolerances, but was meant to be only an electronic lifeboat. It was never intended for long-term use. My parents’ bodies and matrixes are in perfect preservation in their vacuumed formed shrouds.

“The children as I said before are in good health but confused. They all found the experience unnerving, and I’ve been helping them deal with that. Josh and Billie have already surmised what happened and are not happy. As you can imagine Josh is quite angry. At first, it was at you for failing to get them out in time, but now it is at our gracious hosts. Billie was very worried about you, and apprehensive of the Air Force’s plans for them.”

“The immediate problem is finding the opportunity to attempt another escape, but this time without Big Mac’s help with the security systems. You’re under high security and is scheduled to be shipped out soon. The children are being watched very carefully as they are testing their improved abilities,” Ollie concluded.

Aware of all the problems, he said, “I know Ollie, but we have to find a way. We, I, screwed up and we got beat to the punch. Whatever is happening with Project Looking Glass and Kiloton will go down soon. We have to get them out before then.”

Ollie said back, “Kiloton? Not an inappropriate name for the creature. Don’t worry my friend we will find a way out.”

Preparing himself for the role of a lifetime, Alan replied, “I know we will. I just wish right now that I knew just what in the hell it was!”

With that, he opened his eyes and as precisely as he could remember, duplicated the same actions upon waking as he did those weeks ago when he arrived.

Pyotr looked on rather amused as Arghun poured water over his head. The small man had gone out in the desert Saturday as soon as they had arrived at their soon to be base camp. They needed first hand information on conditions around Area 61 and the tough Kazakh was their best scout.

Arghun reported, “The Inspector was correct. The Heavy Assault Brigade is training out here. More important to us is they are aggressively pushing at your dear sister's prison's boundaries. The place has sensors of every type, as well as being carefully patrolled, but with these incursions, their response teams are heavier and include attack aircraft as well as helicopters. They are good Pyotr, but perhaps rely too much on their technology.”

“I think I can find us a path through, but it is going to take me two, maybe three days for me to do so. Our egress could also be a problem. Escaping through the desert would be difficult. It would be too easy for them to cut us off using the roads and aircraft.” Arghun finished, looking at the rest of the team as they worked on checking their equipment and other gear.

Pyotr looked to Bob, who’d been listening. “This does confirm what you’ve told me. I think we will have to risk the use of the Kusbegi to retrieve us. Bob, you and Arghun confer and find us the best place for a Landing Zone, LZ.”

Neither man looked happy because they both knew how chancy it was having a Zolotoye-Yablochko aircraft pick them up on American soil. Whether blessed or cursed, their nation had been involved with bringing down more than their share of the giant Alien Gray bombardment spacecraft. That even included one intact. Though perhaps relatively in one piece might be a better term. Something that big makes landing it a little tough. The good news was it had plenty of the smaller fighter sized saucers on-board.

Much to ULTIMATE’s dismay they’d kept every single nut and bolt they could haul back to their little nation. After all, to the victor go the spoils.

Other nations’ bounty of the Alien tech had been reduced, by one reason or another, as they discovered the myriad uses of having dependable spacecraft that could easily travel from the Earth’s surface to the moon with no more difficulty than a transoceanic flight. Every agency wanted a piece of the pie. The Americans, for instance, had space programs, the Pentagon, and many others all desiring a share.

Zolotoye-Yablochko by contrast had none of those and consequently had more than they could make use of. Given the many geniuses and scientists of questionable sanity that lived there, many of the Alien craft were modified for special purposes. One of those was for special operations support, which was such a vital part of their nation’s defense planning. Naming them Kusbegi, after the renown Kazakh hawker/hunters, they were as stealthy as their re-builders could make them.

As sneaky as the elite Kusbegi pilots were, if they were discovered then 'In the three-ninth kingdom, they would be shown where the lobsters spend winter.' Or as his sister would say, 'if they were found in the land of the free, there would be hell to pay'.

He and Bob had talked about how to justify their actions to the international community if they were discovered, and none of their ideas were appealing. The best one was the truth. The Americans were illegally holding the daughter of the President of Zolotoye-Yablochko and they’d rescued her. That would mean giving up the carefully hidden lie that had protected Pyotr’s extended family from the public and harm. Still, if it kept the diplomatic disaster of being found out, down to reasonable levels, it was a price he knew his father would pay to have his wayward daughter safe.

Still no need to “To make an elephant from a fly,” not yet. Picking up the secure sat-phone, he had some serious explaining and work to do.

Bill slipped through a crack and turned around, marveling that his mutation let him compress himself so thinly. He knew full well what’d caused it. Just like with the Rocketeers long ago, he and the rest of his friends had been 'zapped' as Mr. Glenn called it.

Dr. Hathaway had come in while they were still sick and recovering. She’d told them that they had a bad reaction to some medicine. He hadn’t believed it for a moment. Reading about the Z-Ray in that comic book had made the whole deal seem so corny. He sure didn’t think so now. How do you describe being pulled apart and yet crushed at the same time? And that wasn’t really even close what it’d really felt like. There simply weren’t words for it.

When the Doctor said that Mr. Glenn had been paid and had gone home, Bill knew that once again she was lying to them. He’d been so afraid that something really bad had happened to his teacher that he respected so much. To his relief, Ollie had told them the whole story. That the Air Force had went back on their promise to Mr. Glenn to not use the Z-Ray, but had knocked him out as well as tried to mess up his memories.

They’d all been warned that Mr. Glenn might have to pretend he didn’t know them. Ollie and Mr. Glenn were still looking for a way for them all to get out. He’d been worried that Lizzie wouldn’t understand but she’d taken it in stride. In the meanwhile, they were all being run to death in the labs being tested using that scientific stuff rather than Mr. Glenn's Dojo.

Bill knew he preferred his sensei’s measuring eye over these bozos in the white coats with their clipboards. His friends looked like they liked Mr. Glenn’s way of doing things a lot better too. Lizzie, displaying a rare temper tantrum, had tossed a forklift into the observation booth, after they’d forced her to lift one heavy weight after another. She’d been strong before but now she was like something out of a comic book wearing red and blue.

Considering what he knew about what had been used on them, he was thankful none of them had grown horns or something worse. The only one of them that looked different was Amanda. Her dark hair had grown even longer, all the way to her waist. Of course, like him and Lizzie, all of their powers had grown a lot stronger.

Bill hadn’t believed his own abilities could be increased all that much. All he did was stretch after all. He’d been wrong. Before, he’d gotten harder the more compact he’d made himself and softer the larger. Now he could control how dense he was in any part of himself. He could even lengthen his hair and even change the color now, although he hadn’t let anyone see that yet. That was something he was still experimenting with in private, but he wanted to have an advantage if he needed it.

Josh had a hole card too now. He not only could control what others saw, he now could also see through their eyes. Malik, while he’d not received anything like that, had gotten tougher, a whole lot tougher. The nurses tried to take blood samples and had gotten nothing but bent needles.

He was sure that they would discover more things they’d gotten from the Z-Ray, but Ollie had warned them that the thing in the simulators that they‘d been fighting, Kiloton, was real. That was why Meridian had been brought back and they were supposed to stop it. Bill had turned pale when he’d figured it out. Capt. Blazzar had blown up like a atomic bomb, and he’d read about those guys who thought he’d been imprisoned in something called Looking Glass, like the Phantom Singularity from AC Comics.

Kiloton was just the codename for the monster their teacher’s brother had become. It was kind of fitting seeing the kind of explosions it could make. Bill had kept that part to himself so far. He knew just how powerful that monster had been, but he was also aware that General Laramie and Dr. Hathaway were untrustworthy because they’d repeatedly lied to them.

Moving on to the next test to see how far he could stretch now, he put his doubts aside. Mr. Glenn was still with them and so was Ollie. They would find some way out of this mess.

Master Security Control for Area 61
Location: Top Secret.

All morning they’d been jumping down his throat. Why, the man known as Operative Number 11, didn’t have a clue. They could see the video recordings as well as he could. There was just no damn sign of how someone had broken into Area 61 administration section and ripped off a shit load of computer parts.

Yeah, a couple of hard drives had come up missing, but most of it were memory modules and other components. Number 11 had a feeling that this theft was just a footstep and the real problem hadn‘t been discovered yet. However it was up to the tech boys to look at what had turned up missing and show them where to look.

Their control area was set up much like the old missile silos from the cold war. Two men crews, each with a key, required simultaneous action to activate Wildfire. Screening for the position was tough, but you had to prove you had what it took to push that button if it looked liked the Pandora’s Box that was Area 61 was about to be opened.

They’d been under a lot of pressure the last week or so because something Big was getting ready to happen. It was all too possible that glowing red Balrog eye would be needed. And if so, they would find him ready to do his duty.

Maggie closed her tired eyes. She felt so guilty about her failure to catch that damn backdoor system hidden in her lover’s implants. That was why they were still trapped here. That was why those kids had been irradiated by Gawds knows what, but thank the same Deity that they’d all survived.

The damn thing was devilishly clever. Maggie had went into the implanted device and decided that the best way was to simply bypass the power leading to the drug reservoir pump. That way no one would suspect the thing wasn't fully operational.

What she didn't find was the invisible passive RFID circuity printed right onto her lover's very skin. It was a complete backup copy of the implant lacking only the drugs. What she had thought was only a clever antenna was actually a link between implant and RFID. When Laramie pushed that button, it first tried to activate the one she'd disabled, but it also turned on the second.
It told her a couple of things. One, maybe Ollie's presence down here wasn't as secret as they thought, and two, that device had really only one purpose, to knock out Alan Glenn. Everything else including the tracker was a red herring. And she had completely missed seeing it. Pride does go before the fall.

Before her were the scattered parts of what was to be a gift for her beloved. The design had come from Dr. McClellan's supra-speed-suit. She’d been warned that it would probably be trapped and/or bugged to track the wearer. Her own ego had caused their escape to fail once. There was no way she was going to let it happen again.

Taking the entire thing apart, she found that she’d missed, not one, but several very subtle devices that could cause unwanted effects. One of them was the coating on the armor plates that caused an ionization trail which could be tracked when the wearer reached a certain velocity.

She had to trash the entire thing and started over using the original design only as inspiration. It was undeniably a work of genius, but twisted. She’d been bitten once, it would not happen again, she vowed.

Ollie had assured her that the Buggy was free of such worries, but each of the kids also had a purpose built suit to allow them to get the most from their powers. It was certain that they too were fixed as well. She’d had Big Mac in his box running the simulations for her, looking for surprises. The grateful AI had thanked her for giving it something to do.

Maggie knew she had a temper. Generally, she kept it under control. One of the things that made her and Val’s partnership so effective was how they complemented each other. Her fiery passion and Val’s devotion to justice balanced out nicely. However, there were times she just had to let her inner bitch out. Now was one of those times.

It was easy for her to come up with code as fast as she could think. Maggie had fed it to Big Mac where upon the AI refined it into one truly nasty piece of work. Even as pissed as she was she put in safeties, but until it hit those limits, it was going to do some serious ass-kicking.

She’d already fed in the new final design for her partner’s supra-suit to Big Mac where he was giving it the last run over. One of the things she’d made sure of was, superficially, the new suit looked like the original by Dr. McClellan. The difference was if they tried to access this baby they would get one hell of a surprise.

Looking over at Ollie who was working on his own project, she had to break into a smile. Who said revenge couldn’t be sweet and ironic?

The Gray, noticing her attention, wondered what was the cause of that rather unpleasant smile of hers. He decided that there were some things he just did not want to know.

Chapter 40

Tuesday September 30, 2008

Area 61

Elisa-1 stood passively as the technicians connected her to the simulation bubble. Gazing at her reflection in the shiny equipment, she once again wondered at that small scar on her forehead that she did not remember receiving.

Her memories told her she was six years old but very mature for her age. However, that just did not feel right, because sometimes she could almost recall more. Even the image of the African-American girl with her dark hair seemed wrong. However, what kind of girl would be bald? It was all so confusing.

The men around her, finished, signaled her with a tap on her shoulder to climb inside the bubble. Looking around her, she saw her sisters and brothers climbing into theirs too like they had been told. It was very important to do what they are told. A flash of insight made her wonder that, if these five are her sisters and brothers, where were her mother and father?

The overwhelming compulsion to obey overcame her hesitation, and she climbed inside. As soon as she did, the world transformed itself and information flowed to her. Their target was located at the range. It was identified as Kiloton.

Quickly with their cousin teams, they converged on their objective. This was not the first time they had faced this opponent. Sometimes they succeeded, but always casualties were heavy.

Fearlessly the child warriors threw themselves into battle, ignoring their casualties as the monster slewed them. Their masters were pleased.

Alan Glenn sat cross-legged in his cell. Several flunkies had come in and quizzed him, making sure their flashy-thingie had wiped his memories. His own talents made it easy to come up with the answers they wanted. However, he hadn’t come up with anything that could help get them out of here. The situation had grown static and it seemed Doc and Lying-To-Me Laramie was content to leave him here. At least they didn’t march the kids in front of him, forcing him to pretend he didn’t know them, which had been one of his fears.

Sometimes he was just too maternal for his own good. That oxymoron gender crossed comment made him smile inside. Whatever was to come in his life, it was clear he would finally be able to let Alan Glenn go once and for all. Like a pair of shoes on the wrong foot or too tight, this uncomfortable portion of his life would be over. He would be free to release her inner-self.

His adoptive family knew most of his story and quite frankly thought his whole Quixotic quest insane. Why inflict so much pain upon yourself raking over old wounds and memories? His reasons made sense to him at the time, but now in retrospect he could see his family’s point of view.

You would think that after so long he would’ve made peace with what had happened. That might be what anyone else would have done but he hadn’t. He buried it under so much guilt and other feelings he couldn’t even begin to sort them all out. It wasn’t until he admitted to himself that Gus might still be alive that he actually could start to deal with it.

Ollie might call himself a tech geek, but the Gray made a right decent therapist. What Alan had been through would’ve been traumatic for anyone, and his gender problems just complicated everything. The thought that they could somehow rescue Gus from the Monster, Kiloton, that he'd become, had shocked him out of his shell. If he, Alan, had been torn up by survivor’s guilt, what would his poor brother feel since his berserk alter-ego had done the deed?

Sighing, he tried to meditate again. There was no reason to wait any longer. Time was not their friend. Ollie had picked up from an unshielded civilian worker that they would have a long weekend, with the base being closed for some reason on Thursday and Friday. No matter if it was because of the Air Force looking for the stolen computer parts or for Kiloton’s breakout, it would be a good idea to be gone before then.

It was just a question of timing. His security was slacker than the kids, so he should be freed first. Then a good old Blitz on the kid’s dorm followed by a run to the Buggy and blast off. Without Big Mac to help cut out the security cameras, the faster they could move the better, so the fewer people they ran into the better.

So set the breakout for late night when everyone is home and security was at its lowest point. That wouldn’t help much because the zoomie cops here were very good at their jobs but every little bit helped.

Alan continued working on his escape plan to present to the others, trying not to pay attention the whispers from his Luck of proverbial dark clouds upon yonder horizon.

Sapphira Heron sat at the café that reminded her of home even though it catered to an American’s version of France. The man across the table from her also brought back memories of home; that of her grandfather. That old man had been formidable in his time, surviving events that had broken many of lesser spirit. Such could also be said of this French Inspector.

A founding member of the GIGN, French Special Forces group, he had been very active in the early activities of ULTIMATE. As the organization gained experience, he made quite a reputation for himself as an investigator. A quiet man, he never sought the limelight like so many of his ambitious contemporaries, but simply did the job he did the best.

As the more radical anti-mutant movement gained support, he was shuffled off to less important cases. That was until the pair code-named Kali and Tech-Witch started becoming such a thorn in ULTIMATE’s side. He was always assigned the cases that other investigators had given up in disgust and this one was no different.

SRT One had been briefed on those two, but since they seemed to strike randomly, rescuing mutants from arrest, it was unlikely that they would actually meet. Since they faded away like ghosts after each engagement, by the time the dithering bureaucrats had given her the authority to act, they were long gone.

She had faked an equipment failure on her armor earlier in the day so she could make this meeting. Her teammates were covering for her, despite their official watchers, while she was away. She was finding she had less and less enthusiasm for playing this game anymore. This week of dealing with the fanatical Heavy Assault Brigade had been wearying beyond belief. The limitations placed upon her team while they played fox to the idiots' hounds were unrealistic and more than once she wanted to unsafe her weapons and show them just who really was predator and who was prey.

Maybe that was why this meeting with this dignified representative of the old school was making such a good impression upon her. Dinner had been a relaxing affair, and once again being old school, business would not be discussed until afterwards. She could tell he was not a food snob like the stereotypical Frenchman, but that he did enjoy a good meal.

He raised his glass in a toast. “May wisdom always prevail, for the cost is too high when it fails.”

Raising her own in response, she toasted, “Opa!”

Lowering her glass she asked, “I didn’t think you’re suppose to toast yourself.”

Inspector Imbert replied with a smile. “I was toasting us both. I will soon retire and you too are soon to depart this glorious service,” he said with bitter sarcasm. “We are both being given a most unwelcome departure gift. The reason why we are all here, including our dear comrades in the UHAB, is that the Americans have a little something going on in the desert,” he explained, raising his bushy brows and taking another taste of his wine.

Sapphira gestured for him to continue as she considered his words.

Putting his glass down, he gestured with his hands. “I don’t know all the details but our superiors believe that it is going to be very big. However, my investigations have hinted that they are totally in the dark as to the true scope of the event as well. If they were disposed to listen to me, I might warn them but that brings me to my, our, next quandary.

“Both of us and our subordinates are being set up so no matter what happens we will both be guilty of something. No matter the circumstances, I’m sure they will think of something appropriate.”

She answered, “I'm sure you know that for Supras working within ULTIMATE that is not an unusual situation. Why is this time any different?”

The Frenchman sat back in his seat. “Because of the sheer size and scope of what I foresee happening. At the very least, it will have international consequences, and perhaps even world-altering ones. Some unknown event prompted the American military to take a chance on reactivating one of their Ultra-soldier programs. This action on their part has caused ripples far beyond what they thought or prepared for. One of those caused me to be here as others have brought your SRT and the UHAB. I have seen yet others and the fates only know who else has been drawn here.

“I think our board of directors is trying to use this to their own purposes, but when whatever genie escapes from the Air Force’s bottle, it will be unmistakable. Who is out on the front lines available to stop this? Your and my little groups? We will of course do the best we can, but then the UHAB will fly in to save the day. It will be a truly rare disaster of momentous proportions, a perfect storm of events. Such errors demand that someone must be found at fault, and I will only give you two guesses as to who,” he concluded, gesturing at himself and her.

She turned thoughtful. “So SRT One will for once get the go ahead to go in first. What makes you think it will be something my team can’t handle?” she asked, curious at just what the American military had that could potentially overcome her people and the UHAB.

He smiled again. “At my last count, bearing in mind I don’t know that I have found all the players yet, there will be at least a dozen supra-humans involved. Of them, about half will be as highly trained as your people. The other half may lack the level of training but may very well be quite powerful given possible augmentation by their Ultra-soldier research programs.

“This doesn’t include whatever made them risk international censure by reactivating the program to begin with. What makes this all the more complicated is some of them will be there for their own reasons, possibly at cross-purposes with each other.” He finished.

Sapphira found herself smiling back at him. “You really are an old rogue aren’t you? You play the indignant bureaucrat very well. According to our briefs, there is nothing unusual going on out here, but considering what kind of training we have been assisting the UHAB with, it agrees well with your story.

“Assuming events unfold as you outlined, what do you expect of me? Your team is an investigation detachment while SRT One has a different mission,” she pointed out.

Taking another drink of his wine he answered, “I’m hoping that if everyone has more information, this won’t turn into a totally confused brawl where nobody wins. We both know how corrupt our leadership has grown. The hatred for those who are different by an accident of birth is an insanity that we just can‘t seem to outgrow. Rather than live up to our original charter to serve and protect, they‘ve chosen to instead sacrifice others for their own goals.”

She looked at him intently, weighing his words before replying. “You’ve given me much to think about. If you’re correct about their using my people as a forlorn hope, then I’ve some decisions to make.”

She sighed, wishing she’d something with more of a kick to it than the wine. Fearing she already knew the answer but having to have to know, she asked, “Can you tell me more of these Ultra-soldier augmentees? Are they volunteers or were they blackmailed into this?”

For the first time this evening, he hesitated. “Ms. Heron, they are children between the ages of 6 and 17. They were chosen, because as I understand it, there is a window of about six months after their metamorphosis that this process is most effective. I don’t have complete information about how the Air Force got custody, but I do know their parents weren’t fully aware of just what they were signing.”

“That is one of the cross-purposes I mentioned. It is possible that they and their teachers may be trying to escape, and there are others from outside wanting to aid them,” he said.

Enlightenment flashed before her eyes. “Kali and the Tech-Witch are there aren’t they? That’s how you were led here.” It made sense. She recalled that report of Kali single-handedly trashing that company of drop-ships and power armor suits. Her own suit would be hard pressed to accomplish the same thing because of the danger of being overrun by the Peacekeeper troopers.

The Inspector’s smile turned into a grin. “Yes, but perhaps not the way you might think. I prefer the name Athena rather than Kali, but I think, unknown to the authorities, she is one of their instructors. I tried to keep the details sparse so you could evaluate the situation without any preconceptions. All of this is going to be complex and confusing enough as it is, without more problems for you when you arrive.”

She shook her head. She didn’t need to ask who was leading the research and experimentation on the children. Dr. McClellan’s work and his numerous patents spoke for themselves. There was one last point she needed to know that would clarify just why certain restrictions had been placed on her team while playing rabbit in the desert.

“Inspector, tell me, do our dear directors know of these children?” Even as she asked the question she saw the answer in his eyes. Anger sparked within her. The UHAB, the best of the best, the elite fighting unit that was the pride of ULTIMATE’s armed forces wasn’t going to be battling evil mutants trying to take over the world. No. They had a much more important mission. Running down a group of children who were just trying to run away from those who’d betrayed them.

The waiter came running as soon as his tuned ears heard the sound of breaking glass. The customers apologized for the accident even as he wondered just how the wine glass stem had snapped so cleanly.

Sapphira arrived back at her quarters. The Inspector had aided her return to avoid her watchers. She was surprised to find Number Two, Bernardo, her second in command waiting for her.

He stood silent, judging her mood, then spoke, “I take it the news isn’t good?”

Opening her laptop, she accessed a program she had hoped never to need. “If what I’ve been told is true then this time in truth, our lords and masters have gone too far.”

He, like her, was an involuntary conscript as was their teammate, Number 5, Joachim. Number 3, Robert, had been a criminal guilty of armed robbery. That was a joke because the law ruled that in every crime involving a mutant, he was considered armed because of their powers regardless if their powers were dangerous or not. Streetwise, he had used his vibratory powers to walk through walls and burgle what he wanted. Being smarter than your average criminal, he kept his thefts comparatively modest, wanting to keep under the ULTIMATE radar. Needless to say that failed.

Mariko, Number 4, too was a convict. She had a strange and unusual metabolism that required her to ingest a considerable amount of gold to stay healthy. Starving from the deficiency, she had no choice but to steal what she needed to live. Able to control her own mass and size, she simply shrunk down to doll-like proportions and walked in and out unnoticed. However, when even a small amount of gold goes missing it is noticed, and so she too was apprehended.

The two of them volunteered to serve ULTIMATE and have cortex bombs implanted rather than spend the rest of their short lives at Darkside Penitentiary. Robert had been a realist, figuring it was better odds than being on the moon, while Mariko faced with starvation chose to live.

While the two of them had the obvious threat of their heads exploding, Sapphira and Bernardo had to be concerned about the welfare of their families. While at one time she had been reasonably certain that deadly force would not be used against them, Sapphira wasn't so sure now. Particularly given their willingness to apparently let them charge into the guns while they sit back and waited to sweep up what was left.

Joachim was the only one of the three conscripts with no close family. An orphan, the German government had been only too happy to get rid of the young mutant. The team’s strongman, the big German had a slate gray complexion, and long dreadlock-like braids that looked like hair but were really heat radiators. His gray skin was as tough as armor and the thinking was that he was some kind of living nuclear reactor. Joachim’s only real weakness was his weight. Luckily he was still light enough to be carried by the team’s V-22, but more than once the armored man had fallen through a weakly constructed floor. His tracking implant had been more like welded on than surgically implanted, but he did have one.

Neither she nor her doom predicting inspector had any proof that this was indeed what was planned, but military units practiced the kind of missions they were likely to be called upon to perform. She put what they had been training for out of her mind because she didn't need to rekindle her anger. There would be time for that later.

Sapphira did have a fallback plan, but it had its risks. She had a responsibility to her people and their families. It was not for the faint at heart for it meant the removal of those explosive devices from Robert and Mariko’s heads, which was undoubtedly booby-trapped That was just the beginning because their families had to be protected as well.

Bernardo was their ace in the hole because his unique talents let him pick up skills like others would olives from the orchard. Their masters had been pleased by the incredible assortment of martial arts and combat expertise he had acquired, not paying any attention to the medical knowledge he had managed to learn. With her remotes and detailed plans for doing just this, she was sure they had a decent chance to pull it off.

Their chances for successfully getting away with going rogue were not something she wanted to calculate the odds to.

Her second looked over her shoulder at the laptop screen and nodded. “You know this day has been coming. I, we, all trust your judgment. It’s your call, but whatever it is we’re behind you.”

Taking a deep breath she looked at the innocent looking screensaver of an old WWII movie poster, Kelly’s Heroes. Using her cursor she weaved a complex pattern opening up another screen. Burning Bridges. It asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. Saying a silent prayer, she hit YES.

Number Two turned to get Robert and Mariko prepped. His normally expressionless face almost broke into a smile. His boss had a thing for old movies. Him, his taste in movies were a little different. Remembering a line from one of his favorites, a real smile made its appearance. Seeing how he never wanted any part of this supra-human business to start with, content to follow in his father’s footsteps as a fisherman, it fit. “How do I get out of this Chicken-shit outfit?”

Of course that line had come from that sci-fi movie about an elite force on a far away planet that had gotten its butt kicked. However, he consoled himself, they’d been just as bad-ass as they had claimed. Some of them had made it out alive. That was good enough for him.

Chapter 41

Area 61 September 31, 2008

Area 61

Alan’s eyes snapped open as the door to his cell door slid open. He could see the pair of unconscious zoomies on the floor behind Maggie as she stepped inside.

Maggie threw a package at him. “Strip,” she said, as she pulled one her devices from a shoulder bag.

She placed the end of the cold odd shaped thing over where his implants were hidden. “This is going to hurt like hell.”

His breath caught and his eyes almost popped from his head as the lancing pain stabbed into him. “Couldn’t you have lied?”

“No” was her curt answer. “You know me too well. Get ready for round two.”

True, he did know her, and for damn sure, she was still pissed at how Doc had foxed her. The second time around brought him to his knees, gasping and fighting nausea. “What is that thing?” he rasped out.

“Oh, it rips out those little toys your doctor left behind by disassembling the things so fast they can’t explode or do any other cute little tricks he might had thought of. It then slaps a patch of healing gel on the hole and seals it. See, all done. You get dressed while I drag in Mutt and Jeff.”

Slipping into Slow-Time, he opened the package she’d thrown him. It was an all black jumpsuit-like thing. Shaking it out, he saw it was definitely for Val and not Alan. He’d known this time was coming. Now that it was here, he found himself hesitating. His identity as the younger brother of Gus Glenn was an important part of his past. He took up the mantle of the cocky hell-for-leather racing entrepreneur, to pursue his quest for justice for the memory of his friends, and later for atonement. Penance for surviving when they hadn’t and to keep the ideals they’d supported and tried to live by.

His luck was singing to him as it had for hours of momentous events. Like a grand symphony, dark and light intertwined as the twin themes soared and danced. As he grinned, the music rose majestically as the crescendo grew towards bloom.

In a flash of light, Alan Glenn vanished and in his place stood Valentina Zarya Savitskaya. Ollie and Maggie had talked about quantum states and waveforms, and how her ability to access her friends’ powers had something to do with her being able to dip into Slow-Time. She took a deep breath, reveling in the freedom of being herself. Let them worry as to how she did it. What was important was that somehow she was able to put aside the man that she’d been and be the woman she’d always wanted to be. That was enough.

Dressing required her to use care, but she settled into the unfamiliar weight of the gear. Still, she not only beat Maggie to the door, but had both zoomies inside and tied up in an eye blink. Grinning, she slipped out of Slow-Time next to her lover.

Maggie leaned forward, giving her a kiss that was anything but chaste. Just as quickly, she broke it off, tossing her a helmet from that ever-full shoulder bag of hers. “Here, put it on, and I’ll connect the inputs and power jacks.”

Following her orders, Val eyes widened as the visor lit up like a jet fighter’s display. Startled, she saw the bulky shoulder pads suddenly take on a solid appearance along with areas on her arms, legs and back. Recognition came to her.

“Hey, this is like Doc Mac’s design,” she exclaimed.

Returning her grin she replied, “Yes and no. His design had so many embedded traps and trackers, I didn’t dare use it after what happened with your implants. Instead, I used it as inspiration and came up with this.”

“Those hard plates,” she pointed out, rapping on one with her knuckle, “are nice for use as directional surfaces and as armor, but awkward for maneuvering in tight places. This is a fabric-like material that becomes solid under the right circumstances. It can warp and change its shape, something the original design couldn’t do.

"The batteries are good for about six hours, but it has a system that uses your body’s motion to recharge them. Even without their power, that system can power the suit if you’re moving fast enough. Trust me. This is a lot better than his work without the limitations place on it to control the wearer. So what do you say we blow this Popsicle stand?” she said, heading back to the service tunnel’s open access.

Central Control Area 61

Air Force Sergeant John Maus was carefully writing down in the log the current fluxing power readings from the equipment in Elevator Shaft Six. Slowly the readings had been increasing the last couple of hours. They were still well under the thresholds for activating the emergency call list, much less the big red panic button under its protective clear plastic shield.

He did bring it up to his shift supervisor’s attention. They were well aware that they had Cerberus shackled down here, and no one wanted to be around in case it ever got loose. An avid reader of Sci-Fi and fantasy, he mused that perhaps the Fenris Wolf might be a better analogy. The mighty wolf slipping his chains was one of the omens for Fimbulwinter or it might be the other way around. It’d been a while since he’d caught up on his Norse Legends.

John did recall that Fimbulwinter lasted 3 years and sounded all too much like a nuclear winter to him. Considering what was locked up in there could very well cause such a disaster, he would rather err on the side of caution.

His supervisor thought the same, picking up the phone to call in the big brains. John went back to his console, watching the computerized graphs forecasting the coming doom.

Val opened the secret door from the clubhouse to the dorms. Without Big Mac to run interference with the security systems, they’d have to do this the hard way. Embracing Slow-Time, she flowed into the room that’d been her home for the last few weeks. Maggie had mapped out every camera’s location, and Val skipped from unit to unit, slapping a bypass onto each and every one, ensuring the boys in blue would see only what they wanted them to see.

She was relieved to see none of the kids had a midnight urge for a glass of water or something else that’d screw up the pre-taped show her partner had arranged to playback on an endless loop for their zoomie Peeping Toms. Ollie was waking them now and all those late night meetings in the clubhouse paid for themselves as the kids got moving faster than they otherwise might.

Val zoomed back to the clubhouse to get the kids changes of clothing, passing Maggie lugging her implant zapper. Gathering up the armload of clothes, she passed Maggie again and dropped them in front of each kid’s door.

Sometimes it was fun being a speedster, but other times not so much. Communicating was all but impossible while deep in Slow-Time. She surfaced, watching everything speed back up as each of her students sleepily dragged their packages inside their rooms.

Josh came out first, half-dressed, and earned the privilege of being Maggie’s first victim. Val, seeing things at this end were going well, went back into the stream. She flowed out the concealed door into the service tunnel. Dancing through the thickening wall of air retarding her way, she checked to make sure the passage to the Buggy’s hanger was clear.

Letting Slow-Time swirl away from her once she entered the hanger, she saw Ollie through the pilot’s bubble canopy. She could see he was preoccupied speaking to the kids, and helping Maggie get them ready to make tracks out of here.

Val double checked that all of Maggie’s security bypasses were still in place at the blast doors, as well as ones that would open the silo, so they could launch. She let the world speed back up again, so she could talk. Everything seemed to be going well, but like some grand orchestra, her luck was still building towards a dark sinister upsurge.

She held up her thumb in the OK sign. It wouldn’t help the others to know what her luck was singing. If anything, it might hurt. They already knew they had to move fast to get out of here. That would be good enough or it wouldn’t. If things did start to go to hell in a hand basket, it’d be up to her to sort things out.

“Val,” Ollie called. “Maggie needs you back in the dorms.”

She smiled, like that for example. “I’m on the way Ollie. You just stay ready to put the pedal to the metal.”

The little Gray just grinned at her as he slipped on his oversized WWII leather aviation helmet and goggles. “When we burn out of here they’ll never know what hit them!”

Once more in Slow-Time, Val hurried back down the maintenance way. Arriving in the dorm’s closet, she dropped, surfacing back into normal speed. Walking in, she got there just in time to see Maggie treat Malik. Val winced as she brought out that agonizer-like thing of hers for removing implants. Surprised when boy didn’t yell in pain, she asked, “What’s up with theirs not hurting like mine did?”

Not looking up as she repositioned it to get the next one, Maggie replied, “Oh I used a topical anesthetic.”

A bit put out Val asked her, “How come you didn’t use one on me? That thing hurts!”

“I didn’t have time. It takes a few minutes for it to numb the area, besides you‘re a big girl. You can take it,” she said, not looking up. “Here I can apply the anesthetic on each one, and by the time I’m finished with the last, it has taken effect on the first one,” she said.

“What I need help with is Lizzie. I can’t get past her force-screen. You said something about being able to help with that,” Maggie explained.

Val nodded yes. She knew Ollie had explained to the kids that she and Maggie were here to help since they didn’t recognize who the women in the black outfits and armor were.

Val had to smile, as she snapped open her visor. Gesturing for Lizzie to come to her, she could see her wondering who she was. The others standing around were obviously wondering the same thing, with one exception.

“Val!” Billie squealed, running out to hug her to everyone else’s surprise.

It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who’d made the decision to leave their male persona behind.

The teen awkwardly introduced her, explaining, “This is Val. She’s, hmmm…, a friend of Mr. Glenn. She’s my friend too.”

Ollie’s mental voice echoed hers. “Yes, once more, they are here to help us escape. Please hurry as we don’t have much time.”

Unable to resist the temptation, Val said in her best Russian accent, “If you want to live, come with me.”

Most the kids gaped at her while Billie giggled. Then the guys chuckled, recollecting the quote.

“Seriously we have to get a move on here. Those of you who‘ve already had your surgery, head to the clubhouse and follow the yellow tape down the service tunnel to the hanger,” she urged them. Putting her hands on her hips, she asked, “Or do you really want to stay here?”

That did the trick as the older kids herded to the closet where the secret door was hidden. Lizzie lagged behind and tugged on her hand.

“What’s wrong Lizzie,” she asked, as the others trooped into the service tunnel.

Looking up at her, the little girl questioned, “Where is Mr. Glenn? Is he okay?”

“He’s better than fine, and closer than you think,” Val assured the six year old, knowing they had to gain Lizzie’s trust. They just didn’t have the time to use the same method the Docs did for getting past the half-pint’s powerhouse’s force-screen.

She looked at the adult suspiciously, staring at her face. A bright smile replaced her studied concentration as her eyes twinkled looking into the older woman‘s. “Oh! You’re like Billie!” Happily, she flew into Val’s arms, hugging her.

Trading a smile with Maggie, she was thankful the rest of the pack had already gone ahead. “Hey watch that. You don’t want to break anything do you?” At least now, she could take Lizzie’s enthusiasms a little easier. Not that it let her deal with the little red headed dynamo on an even level. Even as strong as she was when not holding anything back, Lizzie, after Doc had gotten done zapping her, was stronger.

“It is you! You’re a lot prettier this way. I like it,” Lizzie said, sitting on Val’s lap.

Val smiled, sighing. “I’m glad you approve. It is an improvement and I’m rather fond of it too. But you need to promise me, you’ll keep it a secret for now, okay? It’ll just confuse everyone, and we don’t need that right now. Alright?” she asked.

Lizzie solemnly nodded yes.

Smiling, Val tapped her on the nose causing the little minx to giggle. “Alright, you saw how Maggie took those bad things out of Billie and everyone else? Now we need to get yours out too. I know you don’t like it when the Doctors make you sleepy to get blood so I’m going to try something different, okay?”

Lizzie’s green eyes looked into Val’s as she nodded

Hoping this would work, Val cleared her mind and reached out. This was something that, although she’d tried, couldn’t be explained to Maggie or Ollie. It was almost like diving into Slow-Time, but while that was kind of like swimming underwater, this was more like floating on your back. It was a complete relaxation and letting go of everything, just allowing the flow to carry you.

Val wished she’d more time to study these new abilities of hers before blindly jumping into the deep end. Alas, time was the one thing they didn’t have. Too bad she didn’t have something like Max’s clones' ability to instinctively use her talent. That caused her to pause. Maybe she did, if her guess that these newer talents had come from them was correct.

Having studied supra-power theory in school back in Kazakhstan, it gave her hope this would work. Feeling her abilities settle about her, she could feel the force-screen, so like Lizzie’s, surrounding her. It wasn’t anywhere as powerful but she still had to be careful with the extra strength it gave her.

Concentrating, she tried to feel where her force screen, and that of the little girl in her lap, touched. Her years of martial arts training came to her aid as she breathed in time with Lizzie, seeking to synch with her. As gentle as a breeze she felt their screens merge and become one. “Now comes the hard part,” she thought. “Lizzie I’m going to try and turn off your screen for a moment.”

At the little girl’s nod, Val willed the screen away.

Lizzie looked a little nervous as her protective power faded, but her trust kept her from fighting Val.

Quickly Maggie darted in and sprayed the area where she needed to treat. All they could do now was wait for the anesthetic to take effect.

Between Universes

The timeless fissure became a firestorm that no natural or man-made forces could contain. Slowly the machines that had worked so valiantly to maintain the eye of the needle into space/time lost their battle. Just as long ago, a king knowing his battle was lost sent a messenger to ‘Go tell the Spartans’, they sent their own signal that this battle was lost.

A klaxon sounded the alarm as the lights and gauges told of the prisoner’s bid for freedom. A spilled cup of coffee puddled on the floor, forgotten as its owners leaped for their controls. For thirty-four years, they tried to smother the fires, but now it was free. Now there would be hell to pay.

To be continued.