Thanks to Marvel Comics for all of their wonderful characters. Psylocke, Juggernaut, Courier, Nitro are all their characters.

Chapter 1

“What in the hell did you think you were doing, Psylocke? You are going to get us both killed if you keep that crap up.”

“I said I was sorry, Courier. What more do you want. I can’t go back and change it. Besides, the bastard had it coming. Any man that would wear polka dots and stripes together deserves a class A ass kicking!”

Courier started laughing at that one. She was currently using the form of a middle aged executive, the one we had come to bust. Robert Hunter had been suspected by Homeland Security of selling secrets from his company’s research into “smart” explosives to Al Qaeda.

Smart explosives had the potential to revolutionize demolitions. They could be programmed to act like a shaped charge, focusing a blast in any direction without actually shaping the charge, thereby magnifying the power of the blast exponentially. Rand Industries was the tip of the spear in this weapon class, and Hunter was its CFO. He was a complete asshole, someone whose five million dollar plus stock options in the hottest company on earth salary wasn’t enough.

Hunter had managed to get away, and the op went south after that. I was brought in to provide backup and get intel on who was doing what. I had gained a lot more control over my abilities in the year and a half since I had changed from a slightly nerdy sixteen year old boy to a sort of hot meta chick with the ability to, among other things, could read peoples minds.

I was assigned to Homeland Security rather than the more traditional Department of Metahuman Affairs. My particular talents were well suited to stealth. I could fight, but I wasn’t in the class of the heavy hitters, and had no desire to get my pretty face messed up.

I had developed a fast friendship with Juggernaut, aka Cain Marko. I liked his attitude and he looked out for me like a big, REALLY big brother. There are worse guys to have on your side. He really hadn’t gotten on board with any government agency, but he never said no when they needed his talents, either. He was my big teddy bear.

So, the mission went south, and Courier was almost out of the building when one of the security goons had made her as a phony. He was tipped off by the real Mr. Wilson on his way out. He tried to stop her, I stopped him, a little louder than necessary, I guess. I should have listened and just mind wiped him, but that outfit was more than I could stand.

We made it to our ride with time to spare and hauled butt. Courier began the change back to her regular form. She was a shape shifter, but she had gotten “stuck” as a female when something happened to her on one of her/his many missions. She could still shift, but always had to revert to a super stunning brunette that made people stop what they were doing to look at her. If I wasn’t attached, even I would try to have a go at her.

She still hadn’t fully accepted her new life. She always said she would “get” someone named Remy if it was the last thing she did. I think she likes him, but what do I know. Heck, I don’t even know who Remy is, and I don’t ask.

“So, from all the gunfire I heard, I’m guessing you didn’t get out clean, eh, Courier?” greeted Supervisory Special Agent George Garrison.

“Ha, ha, ha and screw you, George” replied Courier. “The rookie here got a little punch happy. Evidently YOU didn’t give her her Ritalin.”

That got my attention. “HEY! Jackie, that was mean!”

She looked at me with those perfect brown eyes and squinted. “It’s Courier, squirt!”

Pouting, I crossed my arms and spat “I’m not a squirt and I don’t need Ritalin” Then I smiled. “But you need to show me your boobs, Jackie”

Courier acted all exasperated and started to pull off her top. “Okay. You know all you have to do is ask.”

I spoke softly and smiled. “Stop it, Jackie! What in the world are you doing? Keep your shirt on, you tramp! I don’t want to see your boobs, girl!”

Suddenly she realized what she was doing, and turned several shades of red. “Stop that!”

I replied frostily, “Then stop treating me like a little kid, or you’ll be showing your boobs to the first man I see”

“All right ladies. That will be enough of that. Teammates don’t treat each other in that way. Psylocke, tone down the mind games, or I’ll suspend you without pay for the next six months. Courier, stop acting like you are the only one who knows what she’s doing.”

Courier mumbled. “I’m not a lady.”

Garrison had taken about enough. “Jackie! What part of knock it off don’t you understand? Until you figure out a way to stop looking like Miss Universe, then you are a girl!”

We were both chastened. I loved Courier like a sister, but we also fought like sisters. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was a girl, through and through. As was I. Our hormones sometimes got in the way, but we were kind of getting a handle on it. On the job, we were a pretty good team. We just had a bit of a struggle getting along the rest of the time.

I think she kind of resented me because of my rise in the Agency. Hey, I couldn’t help it if I had mad skills! I was pretty much indifferent to the political end of things in the Agency, and Jackie wasn’t. She was trying to get ahead, and I think she saw me as a threat. She couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t care one way on another about my position in the ladder. I was there to do a job, and I didn’t want the responsibility of having other people depending on me.

I decided to be the bigger person. “I’m sorry, Courier. I’ll try to be a little more discreet next time.”

“Okay” she grunted. “It’s okay.”

I put a big smile on my face, and leaned over to her. “Not good enough, big sis. Give us a hug!” I proceeded to give her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Forgive me?” I said in my best little girl voice. “Please?”

She couldn’t hold back the laughter any more. “All right, you silly kid, all is forgiven” She then hugged me back.

Garrison smiled. “Okay, now that you’ve got that little matter handled. Let’s get back for debrief.”

We went over the op for the next 5 hours. I was crazy tired by the end of it, and getting very silly. The bottom line was the operation was compromised by some kind of mole in the system. Who or what that was would have to wait.

I got a driver to take me home, and Tracy was already in bed. We had moved out of her house when we went to college. We had both been accepted to the University of Michigan, so we didn’t have to move far. I got in due to my Government connections, and Tracy was Miss Braniac and was in an honors program at the school. She was in pre med, and her class load was a challenge, even for her.

We were getting along better than ever, and we were both sure that we would be together for the foreseeable future. I would have liked to say forever, but she never would go that far. It was just in her nature.

I tried to sneak in to the bedroom so I wouldn’t wake her, but I tripped over a shoe she left in the middle of the floor.

“Dammit!” I hissed.

“Hello beautiful” came a tired voice in the darkness. “Late night, huh?”

“Yeah, making the world safe for democracy isn’t a nine to five job, I guess. Sorry about waking you.”

“That’s okay, hon. You can wake me anytime you want.” Tracy yawned. “It’s only two thirty in the morning. You should be able to get a few hours sleep before your first class. When is it?”

“Eight o’clock” I sighed.

“Get undressed and come to bed, Betsy. You’ll feel better in the morning”

“Okay. Just let me get some jammies on.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake girl. Can’t you sleep naked?”

“No, I can’t, and if I come over there, I won’t get any sleep, because you won’t keep your paws off of me!”

“Spoil sport. You are such a girl. I should be the one protecting myself from you!”

I smiled as I slipped on my sleep shirt. “What can I say? You’re the one who wears the pants in this family. And I’m the one who protects my virtue!”

“Get into bed, my little flower. Give me a kiss and go to sleep.”

I rolled into the bed and gave the love of my life a kiss. I fell asleep soon after, with Tracy stroking my hair.

I got painfully out of bed at 6:30. With not quite 4 hours of sleep under my belt, I was miserable. Tracy had gotten up about fifteen minutes before I did, and had already gotten some coffee going, and it smelled wonderful.

I walked in to the kitchen of our little apartment. Tracy was at the counter, getting her lunch ready. She turned around and burst out laughing. “What in the world happened to you?”

“What?” came my tired reply.

“Look at yourself, Betsy! Good Lord, you look like a sorry imitation of Amy Winehouse!”

I shuffled back into the bedroom and looked into the mirror. “Ohhhh, God!” I moaned.

I looked like a crack whore. My hair was everywhere and what makeup I had left was smeared all over my face. I had bags under my eyes, and was a general wreck.

Dipping my head in defeat, I muttered “I hate being a girl”

Tracy had come into the bedroom behind me and pinched my bottom. I jumped and screeched a little bit. “No you don’t, Betsy. You just hate the work. It’s not as easy to look beautiful when you burn the candle at both ends. I worried about you. You need to take some time off one thing or the other. Here’s your coffee, just like you like it.”

I turned to Tracy and took the cup. Sipping it, I relished the bittersweet taste. Tracy knew exactly how I liked my coffee.

Sighing deeply, I agreed. “I know. But I’m not sure what I should do. Part of me loves the difference I’m making in keeping the country safe. The other part just wants to be a normal girl for awhile.”

Hugging me, Tracy said “I know, Betsy, I know. But you’re going to have to make a decision soon. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Yeah, but I’m not making it today. Let me finish this and I’ll get into the shower and try and fix the damage.” I smiled at her, turned around and shook my booty.

The shower worked wonders. I stayed in until the water began to cool down, and then proceeded to get ready for the day. I still had about thirty minutes before I absolutely had to leave, so I took a little extra time with my makeup. The bags weren’t completely gone, and my eyes were still a little bloodshot. Some eye drops and that was fixed. I didn’t overdo the makeup, and a little eyeliner and mascara finished the look. I went with leggings and a baggy top with some cute boots. Looking in the mirror, I thought I cleaned up pretty well.

Tracy was already gone by the time I was ready. I grabbed by bag and headed out the door. I nearly forgot my cell phone, and grabbed it.

As I was walking to class, my phone rang. It was Courier.

I tried to sound chipper. “Hello?”

“Psylocke, we need you back in Detroit. There’s been an incident at Rand Industries, and it’s bad. We’re sending a car to pick you up now.”

“But I have class at eight.” I protested.

“Not any more. It’s already been taken care of. Use your phone to check the media reports on the way.” She hung up.

“Shit!” Why am I the one they go to first? I’m just a kid, something they remind me of every time I’m on an op.

A black SUV pulled up beside me and the back door opened. A polite looking gentleman got out and greeted me. “Are you ready, Miss Braddock?”

“Yes.” I got in, but I wasn’t happy.

On the way in to Detroit, I pulled up the media reports. There had been a massive explosion at the Rand Industries Jefferson Road Complex. The one million square foot building was nearly leveled, and hundreds of people were feared dead, thousands more wounded. The blast radius was a half mile in diameter. An elementary school nearby was heavily damaged, and over 100 children were hurt, with 15 confirmed dead.

I was stunned as I looked at the devastation on my little phone screen. Tears dripped onto the screen, as I realized that this could be another 9/11. I saw a broken little body being carried out of the school, and I began to cry. Who could have done this?

“Here, Miss Braddock. Take this.” The agent that let me in to the SUV offered me a handkerchief.

Taking it, I thanked him. “I’m sorry. I guess I should be stronger.”

“Don’t apologize for tears. There are some things that it’s okay to cry about. This is one of them. I hope you never get used to this. We are going directly to the scene. It will get much worse”

I couldn’t watch any more. I put the phone in my bag and looked out the window, crying silently.

When we got to within the blast radius, I was shocked at what I saw. The only thing I could think of was pictures I had seen of Hiroshima after the atomic bomb. I saw body parts, people walking like zombies and cars and houses simply destroyed.

The vehicle stopped and I got out. I was looking down, trying to avoid tripping, when I saw a little arm sticking out of some rubble. I bent down to hold the hand, not knowing why. It just seemed so lonely. As I touched it, I realized it was not attached to anything. I jumped up and put my hand over my mouth, stifling a scream. Agent Grant, the one who had been so nice to me, caught me.

“It’s okay, Miss Braddock. Just hold my hand, and we’ll get there” All I could do was give him a whispered thank you.

I saw the Homeland Security command center vehicle, a converted semi trailer and tractor. Courier was waiting for me when I got out of the SUV. She could see I had been crying.

“I know it’s tough right now, Betsy. But you need to be strong right now. Let’s go inside.”

I couldn’t speak. I was devastated that my city had been struck by such a disaster. I followed her numbly into the Command Center.

The Center was a fifty three foot trailer that was similar to the ones used to haul race cars. There were about twenty people in the trailer, coordinating the rescue investigation teams. There was a small area at the front of the trailer where Garrison was. Courier and I went there.

Garrison looked at me with concern. “Are you okay, Psylocke?”

I didn’t respond. I was looking at the news feeds on the monitors over his head. I flashed back to losing my parents in and explosion almost two years ago. This was hitting me hard.

“Psylocke? Psylocke!” I couldn’t respond. What was happening to me?

I just sat down on the floor. No hysterics, no scene. Tears were streaming down my face. Courier got down on her knees and cupped my face in her hands.

“Betsy? It’s okay to be sad, but we have a job to do. I need to know you can handle this.”

“It’s just so much… so much death. I can hear people who are trapped. People who won’t make it. Babies…who want their mothers, but can’t find them. They don’t understand.”

“Betsy! Shut it off! Stop thinking about it!”

Garrison spoke up at the wrong time. “Courier, if she can’t handle it, get her the hell out of here.”

Glaring at him, Courier spat back “Listen you ass. She’s been through this once before. You’re the genius who called her in. Didn’t you listen? She can hear the dying. ALL of them. I suggest you shut the fuck up and let me handle this.” She turned back to me. “Betsy? Are you able to shut them out?”

“Yes” came the weak reply. “I’m better now, thanks. It was just a little much. This brings back a lot of bad memories.”

“I know it does, Betsy. But we need all hands on deck for this one. Will you be good to go on this?”

“Yes, I think so.”

She helped me up. “Good, because we can use all of the help we can get.”

Garrison was surprisingly quiet. Courier had put him in his place. He was out of line and he knew it. He began the briefing. “Courier, you and Psylocke are the only metahumans assigned directly to this unit of Homeland. All of the others are out right now, either combing the wreckage, or helping to maintain order. We have been tasked with determining what happened here, and if it is related to our investigation of Robert Hunter.”

Garrison continued talking, but I ignored him. I could find Hunter.

I began to concentrate. I wasn’t going to let some psycho ruin my city. I had found Hunter before, and now that I knew his thought patterns, it would be easier to find him.

I left the noise of the command center behind. Expanding my search, I found him. He was still in town, but I couldn’t locate him exactly. I focused on his thoughts…

“Oh my God, NO!” I yelled.

“What, Betsy?” asked Garrison.

“I know what happened! I also was able to narrow down where he is.”

“How?”

“I just can, okay. He’s within 40 miles of here. His thoughts are clear, but I can’t locate him exactly. Something is wrong with his body, and I think I know why.”

Garrison looked sick. “Close the door, and explain”

“There was an accident in the lab. Hunter had managed to get back in after we left, and was putting the finishing touches on a bomb to level the lab and destroy all of the research on the smart explosives. Somehow, He got a chemical mixture wrong, and the nanites in the explosives bonded with his DNA. He set the explosives and they went off prematurely. He was at ground zero. The explosion was far more powerful than he anticipated. Somehow he survived. He has been changed physically, but I don’t know how yet.”

“And you are sure it was him you read?”

“One hundred percent”

“I’ll need to brief the Secretary. If there is a bright side to this, it is that foreign agents aren’t responsible or this. We can safely call it an industrial accident. Rand Industries won’t survive, but we won’t have to risk an escalation in the Middle East. Good work, Psylocke.”

I looked at him grimly. “This isn’t over. If he can survive an explosion of this magnitude, I think we are looking at another bad guy that will be very hard to deal with”