Insert standard disclaimer here: The one that reminds everyone that this is a work of fiction. No one is real and any resemblance to someone who is real is purely coincidence, honest. This is also a Fan Fiction set in the Whateley Story Universe. No Canon characters were permanently harmed in the making of this story. I hope. :)

Note: Sorry for the extreme delay in this chapter. Work/Life balance is making it hard to string the hours together for the "writing zone". Thanks for my beta readers for their feedback and patience. And last but not least, djkauf for correcting my many mistakes.

** Chapter 33 **

Mr. Smith chuckles. “Hardly, sir. Almost all of the martial arts disciplines teach killing blows or strikes that could kill, but that is not the same as training someone to be a killer, and I am positive that Rogers would never teach kids to be killers.”

General Evans looks at Mr. Smith with a touch of disbelief, but he doesn’t press the issue.  “Is there anything else that we should go over regarding Whisper’s performance?” He asks.

Mr. Smith pauses for a second as he mulls over the question. “I think that I have everything I need to submit a report, but I can tell you that the summary will be that Whisper performed well considering her age and the circumstances.  She didn’t really have many choices.  True, she could have evaded, but considering the weaponry of her assailants, I can’t agree that that would have been the best course of action.  However; Whisper had the opportunity to arm herself with a knife when she disabled her first target.  She could have thrown the knife to distract or injure Target_5 prior to engaging him. Without her unique advantages, she would have become a fatality and failed her mission.”

I was feeling pretty happy with myself until he got to the last part.  While I don’t know how to throw a knife like an action star, I can easily imagine that having a sharp pointy object flying at a person would tend to throw off their aim just a bit.  The Mortal Combat ‘fatality!’ part wasn’t a concern for me at the time, but now, I can see that I got very lucky.  

“Excellent, Mr. Smith.  Thank you for your input on this issue.” General Evans says with a smile before he turns to my mom and I.  “I think we are done with the two of you for now.” He glances to Mr. Reilly and Mr. Smith. “Do you two have anything else for either Whisper or Psyche?”

They both shake their heads no.  

I stand and as I head towards the door, I notice that only my mom and I are leaving.  Mr. Reilly smiles at me when I glance back. “We just have a few things to go over for tomorrow’s plan. Would you two mind waiting in the lobby for a few minutes?”

My mom looks over at Barb before turning back to Mr. Reilly with a smile. “Sure, Mr. Reilly.  We can keep Amanda company while we wait for our ride.”

With that, I leave the room, but I decide that I should hit the restroom to freshen up a bit before I see Amanda.  My mom joins me, which is a little unsettling at first.  I mean, I’m just not used to sharing the bathroom with my mom.  My dad, yes, but not my mom.

“Still feeling a little weird about this?” My mom asks as we enter the women’s restroom.  

I know that I shouldn’t be surprised that she would pick up on that, but I still am. “Yeah, a little.  Just when I think I am getting used to being a girl, something as simple as using the bathroom reminds me just how different things are now.”  I accidentally giggle as I think about my previous bathroom adventure. “I mean, just a couple of hours ago, I ended up going into the men’s room by mistake, and then Mr. Reilly walked in and caught me.  Talk about feeling awkward!”  I say.

“Oh my god, you didn’t?” My mom asks, gasping with surprise.

“Well, yeah. Mom, I had to go, but it is all of these little things that are sort of freaking me out. I mean, I never really gave it much thought, but something basic like girls have to pee sitting down, boys don’t.  That was just how things were. Now? Everything I do feels so normal, but at the same time so wrong.  Everyone treats me differently, just because I’m a girl.  I feel like I am an alien who is visiting Earth. I know the language and I look like an Earthling, but nothing that the real Earthlings do make sense to me.  Does that make any, umm, sense?” I ask as I feel my eyes start to tear up, again.

My mom hugs me. “Oh Brianna, I am so sorry. Yes, yes it does make sense to me and just in case I haven’t mentioned it, I am very proud of you and your dad and I love you very much. If you need something to help anchor you, that is something that hasn’t changed and never will.” My mom says as she squeezes me even harder and gives me a tender kiss on my forehead.  

I sniffle a little as I wipe the excess moisture from my eyes. “Thanks, Mom.  That helps.”  I say with a tentative smile.  I give her a quick hug in return and then I steal the premium handicapped stall before she knows what happens.

“You stinker!” My mom says with a laugh as she enters the smaller normal sized stall next to mine.  She surprises me when she proceeds to talk about the AAR while we both, umm, you know.  

That’s one more thing that isn’t normal about being a girl. Guys do not, under any circumstances, talk to each other while actively going to the bathroom. She stops after a moment. “I’m freaking you out again, aren’t I?” She asks.

I’m not really freaking out. I’m just noticing the differences, again. The hyper-awareness is actually starting to get annoying. I nervously giggle. “Yeah, a little, but go ahead. It’s not that big of a deal and I need to get used to it anyway. I never really understood that unwritten guy rule anyway.  It’s kind of like how no one talks on elevators.” I say as I finish with my business.  That thought makes me laugh about it.

We both chat more and I feel myself starting to relax again. Going to the bathroom should not be this dramatic. I’m practically skipping down the hallway on the way to the lobby.  I can’t wait to see how Amanda is doing with her homework.

Instead of catching her busy with homework, I find her curled up in her chair, sleeping with her history text book in her lap. I quietly walk over and sit down next to her.  I don’t know how she can sleep like that, but she looks so darn pretty.  I can’t help it, I find myself fondly smiling at her.  If I was still a boy, I know that I’d be totally gaga over her. Instead of that, I feel a warmth that seems centered in my heart. I just want to give her a big hug. Is that the girl version of ‘going gaga’? Does this feeling mean that I like her as a friend or something more?  I don’t know because I’ve never felt like this before.  John is my best bud, but I never felt this way about him. At least, not that I’ve noticed.  The closest that I can relate this feeling to is when I had a crush on Michelle Collins in the 6th grade, but I’m not sure. I feel my mom’s hand gently squeeze my shoulder.

Amanda wakes, looks up and smiles sleepily at me. “Hey, how did it go?” She asks, softly.

Her question distracts me from what I was thinking and my mom removes her hand after I quickly glance back at her.  She looks concerned for me.  Instead of worrying about it, I turn back and face Amanda. “Oh, it went okay.  The expert said I did an okay job, but I should have taken the first guy’s knife.” I say matching her soft tone of voice for some reason.  It’s like I’m trying not to wake her up more than I already have.  It doesn’t really help.

Amanda sits up with alarm, causing her text book to slide off her lap.  I catch it and hand it back to her. “Thanks.” She smiles appreciatively at me before turning to glare down the hallway. “Now, I can’t believe that jerk would say something like that to you because, girlfriend, you kicked ass!” She says with a fierce expression as she crosses her arms angrily.  

I think that if Mr. Smith walked around the corner right now, Amanda would chew him out for being a meanie or something.  Well, that is what I imagine her saying anyway.  I can’t help it; the thought of it makes me giggle.  

Amanda turns back to me with a puzzled expression. “What?” She asks.

“Oh, you should’ve seen your face!  I swear, if Mr. Smith walked in here I could totally see you attacking him!”  I say, barely managing to hold back my laughter at her confused expression.

That causes her to start giggling and before I know it, we are both laughing at and with each other.  Still, the feeling I had nags me. I sneak a glance back at my mom.  

“Later.” She mouths silently to me with a patient smile.

I acknowledge her with my eyes and turn back to Amanda. “So, how much of your homework did you manage to finish?”  I ask.

Amanda sighs and pouts a little. “Well, I got my Math and English done, but, umm, History, not so good.  I have 20 reading questions to answer for this chapter and I only managed to get five done.”

“Oh?  I’m okay with History. What are the questions?” I ask.

Amanda opens her book to the page that has a folded piece of paper in it and she hands me the paper.  I quickly scan the questions. It is U.S. History and on the Civil War.  “Can I see your book?” I ask.   

Mystified, Amanda hands her book to me and I rapidly page through the chapter that covers the U.S. Civil War.  After 20 seconds, I hand her back her book and start matching the questions with the book’s material.  “Okay, I have the answers. How do you wanna do this? I can just tell you the pages to look at for each question or repeat to you the relevant text so you can write down your answer.” I say.

“Bree?” My mom asks with that tone of voice that tells me she is about to warn me that I’m helping Amanda cheat or something.

“Yes, Mom?” I ask trying to sound innocent.

She laughs at my obvious attempt. “You know.” My mom says.

“Pleassssee, Mrs. Peters, can’t she help me? Just this one time. I promise that I will read the chapter tomorrow.” Amanda says directly to my mom while I also turn and give my mom my best pleading expression.

My mom crumbles under the combined onslaught.  “Okay, but make sure that you do read it.” She says sternly.

Amanda’s eyes light up. “Yeah!  Thanks Mrs. Peters!” She says with an excited little clap as she grins triumphantly at me.  

Given the green light, for each question, I repeat the question, followed by the relevant passage from her text book. Where possible, I also add in some related trivia from all of the Civil War history related TV shows that I’ve watched, plus all the extra military history homework that Sensei Rogers liked to assign.

Sometimes, Amanda is so engrossed with what I tell her, that she has to have me repeat the original question again. Then, after she thinks about it for a few seconds, she writes  down her answer using her own words.  We are halfway through the second to last question when Mr. Smith ghosts silently into the lobby. I pause, causing Amanda and my mom to turn and follow my gaze.  Mr. Smith mouths “Sorry.” and motions for me to continue.  I return to the question while keeping an awareness of where Mr. Smith is in the room.  Five minutes later, we are all done and Mr. Smith never moved a muscle as he patiently watched and waited for me to finish.  Neither my mom nor Amanda appear to notice it when he silently takes a seat across from us.  His body language is completely relaxed and casual, but his eyes never stop scanning the room.

Amanda happily stuffs her History book and her note book into her back pack. “Wow, you know what?” She asks as she sits back up and looks at my mom and me. “That was so cool and I think that it might actually be better than reading it.  It was so much more interesting to hear Bree tell me about what happened than it was to read it.”

I glance back at my mom and she looks a little skeptical, but she doesn’t have that ‘I know that your fibbing’ expression.  Maybe Amanda really means what she is saying.  

My mom ends up smiling at Amanda. “You know what?  I think that you’re right.  It actually was pretty interesting. I never knew that Bree knew so much about the Civil War.”  She says while looking at me with a measured expression.

“Well, I do watch a lot of the History Channel and well, you know...” I say while pointing to my head.

Mr. Smith looks like he wants to say something, but he stops himself when I glance up to pay attention to him.  Instead, he smiles and shakes his head giving me the impression that he might tell me some other time.  Now, I am really curious about what he wanted to say. I have no idea how that will ever happen, but stranger things have happened and are happening to me.  He gives me what looks suspiciously like a respectful nod before he exits the room.

I watch him casually stroll down the hall and enter the elevator.  The doors begin to slide shut and he surprises me by giving me a sort of salute sort of wave good-bye.  At least, that is how I interpret his gesture.  

“What was that about?” My mom asks.

I turn back to her. “I don’t know. I thought that he didn’t really like me all that much.”

My mom shakes her head. “No, he didn’t  at first, but you really impressed him and I don’t think that he is the type who is easily impressed.”

Amanda yawns while looking back and forth between us with a curious expression. “What? Did I just miss something?”

I can’t help it, I giggle at her. “Nothing, I was just wondering about Mr. Smith, the top secret spook dude that just left.”

“Oh, okaayy...” Amanda says dubiously.

Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Reilly and General Evans choose that moment to enter the room. Mrs. Townsend and Mr. Reilly walk over to us, while General Evans heads down the other hall. I guess that he is heading to his office or something.

I feel a little nervous about what Mr. Reilly is going to say.  He must notice my expression because he smiles at me. “Okay, we are done for the night and here is the plan for tomorrow.  The good news is that you can sleep in.”

Amanda gets excited about that. “Not you Amanda, you have school tomorrow, remember?” Mrs. Townsend says, deflating Amanda’s excitement.

“But, Mooomm....” Amanda says.

Mrs. Townsend does not look at all sympathetic. “No buts young lady, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to come here instead of going home.”

Amanda pouts a little, but the effect is ruined when she glances at me with a not so sneaky grin.  Mrs. Townsend smiles at her daughter’s attempt.

“Now, as I was saying, Bree and Jennifer, you two can sleep in. We won’t have anything for you all to do until oh-ten hundred hours, I mean 10 AM.  We will run some additional tests, do some paperwork  and then,pending Mrs. Carson’s approval and your family’s approval,” Mr. Reilly tilts his head in acknowledgement to my mom. “ we will fly Bree to Whateley Academy before we continue on to New Mexico to drop off Jennifer and Dr. Edmundson. Any questions?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Mrs. Carson?” I ask.

“Sorry, she is the Headmistress of Whateley Academy.” Mr. Reilly says.

My mom clutches me to her protectively. “It all seems so sudden.” She says.

Mr. Reilly acknowledges my mom with a grimace. “Yes, I had hoped that we wouldn’t need to move so fast, but this evening’s events have proved otherwise.  I am very concerned for Bree’s safety and I feel that Whateley would be the best place for her right now.” His eyes flash with repressed anger. “Based on the stunt the MCO pulled by leaking your name to the press and the fact that I have had to deal with them before, I just don’t trust them and their methods for dealing with mutants that they deem ‘valuable’.”

Mr. Reilly surprises me with his hatred for the MCO. I don’t even need my voice stress gauge to tell me that he does not like them, at all.  He reassuringly smiles at us. “Sorry.  Well, why don’t you all head home? I need to make a few more calls and I will meet you two,” He looks at my mom and me. “, here tomorrow morning at 10. Okay?”

My mom stifles a yawn and that makes me yawn. “Sounds good to me, Mr. Reilly.  Barb?  Can we get a ride to our hotel?” My mom asks.

Mrs. Townsend smiles. “Of course!  Come along you all. Let’s get out of here before they change their minds!” She says, pretending that Mr. Reilly might do that.

Amanda and I get the back seat again and she surprises me by reaching into her book bag, taking out a piece of paper and a Seventeen magazine.  With the car moving, she carefully writes down her phone number and email address, then she tucks it into the magazine and hands them both to me.  “Here, since you’re going to be flying tomorrow, you might need something to read and that’s my number and stuff.” She says, looking a little sad.

“Oh, thanks.” I say, hesitantly because I’m not really sure what to think. I pull the sheet of paper with her info and try to hand her back the magazine.  I’m not really interested in reading about hair and makeup tips or anything girlie, but I can’t really tell her that. “I can’t take your magazine; it looks like you haven’t had a chance to read it yet.” I say, lying like a cheap rug.

Amanda giggles at me. “Oh! No, I’ve read that one a few times already.  This month, there’s a really good article on makeup that you might like and another one about how to pick the right bikini for your body.” She suddenly gasps at what I am sure is my shocked expression and grabs my arm apologetically. “Not that I think you would have trouble with any bikini! You’re so pretty that I’m sure you could make even a rag bikini look awesome.”

Her apology doesn’t really help, but she is just so darn friendly and I know that she is just trying to help.  Any other girl would probably be delighted to be given this magazine, but I just don’t see why girls like reading these things.  Of course, I can’t tell her that without making her feel bad or telling her my secret.

“Oh, are you sure?” I ask while I really hope that she will change her mind.

She doesn’t. “Oh, I’m sure! You’ll love it! I mean, you haven’t read it already, have you?” She asks, suddenly looking slightly nervous.

Awesome! I have a way out now.  “Umm, no.  Thanks.” I say, chickening out.  It just wouldn’t be right to lie to her, plus I catch my mom’s smile of approval for how I handled this latest emergency.  So sad.

Both Amanda and Mrs. Townsend get out of the car when we pull up to our hotel.  My mom and I get a hug from Mrs. Townsend. Amanda surprises me with a hug and she looks a little sad when we break apart. “Oh, I wish that you weren’t leaving tomorrow and that you were staying all week. I would have loved to have you over for my slumber party this weekend.”  She says.

Honestly, I have no idea what to think about that idea. Me, at a girl’s slumber party surrounded by giggling girls wearing skimpy pajamas, doing makeovers, having pillow fights and watching chick flicks all night?  I feel confusingly excited, scared and sad that I won’t be able to go. “Oh, thanks. I wish that I could stay too.” I say.

My mixture of emotions must be exactly right, because Amanda buys my story. “Hey! You better call me as soon as you get to that school. I wanna hear all about it!” Amanda says as she gives me another quick hug.

My mom holds me close as Mrs. Townsend and Amanda wave to us as they drive off.  We wave back and I can’t help it, my eyes start to get a little damp as I watch their car disappear around a corner.  My first girl friend or BFF as they say and maybe Amanda means more to me than that. I just don’t know.

My mom tugs on my arm. “Come on Bree. Let’s get inside. We could both use a shower and we can use that time to talk a bit before we go to bed, okay?” My mom says with a smile as I look up at her while clutching Amanda’s magazine possessively in my hand.

It feels good to get out of my dirty clothes and take a hot shower.  My mom decides to use that captive time to talk to me about my feelings for Amanda.

“Mom! I’m trying to take a shower and thinking about Amanda while I am naked isn’t helping.” I say feeling very embarrassed when I realize that I do feel attracted to Amanda when I catch myself imaging how she would look naked.  In that respect, nothing has changed. I’m still a boy, who can get a woody just thinking about a naked girl, but I’m not and I can’t. I just don’t have the right equipment anymore. I do feel something though. My nipples pop out and my insides feel warm.  Now, I really feel embarrassed because there is nothing worse than getting caught by your mom. I try to wrap my arms around my chest to cover up my breasts, but that ends up causing me to gasp with surprise from how sensitive those things are when my arm brushes against them.

“I’m sorry Bree. I didn’t mean to, I’ll just go and watch some TV while I wait for you to get done. We can talk about it later.” My mom says.

I shudder with both relief and confusion as she leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind her to give me some privacy.  I just don’t know what my body is trying to tell me. It feels so sensitive right now and every touch is almost a new sensation. It is so different that it makes me wonder what it would feel like to, you know.

Nope! No can do. Not with my mom in the other room and able to feel what I’m feeling. It takes me a few minutes of just standing under the hot water and practicing my meditation thing before I can continue washing my body.

I feel much more relaxed when I finally finish with my shower.  Maybe meditating once a day would be a good thing.  My mom apologizes to me as we trade spots in the bathroom.  I shrug it off as no big deal and dig out my pajamas.  I snuggle under the covers, prop myself up against the pillows and watch some TV while my mom takes her shower. Surprisingly, it only takes her ten minutes before she is done, dressed and in her bed.

“So, can we talk about it now?” My mom quietly asks.

I just knew she couldn’t wait. “Umm, I guess so?” I say.

“Amanda?”

“I just don’t know. I like her a lot, and that scares me because I’ve never felt this way about a girl before.”

“Okay, and?”

“I’m not a boy anymore and I don’t think that Amanda is a lesbian, so I don’t really know what to think. I mean, a week ago, me liking a girl would be normal and expected, but now?” I ask.

I don’t know how she does it, but without me realizing that she moved, she is somehow sitting next to me and hugging me tightly as I begin to cry from the sheer frustration of it all.  “Shhh, it’s okay baby.” She says as she starts to rock slightly back and forth in an effort to calm me.

It works, mostly. “What if she finds out and hates me?” I ask.

“Amanda is a good person. She might not feel the same way about you, but I doubt that she would hate you. She considers you her friend and she really does like you.  Just not in the way that you like her.”

“Okay, what if she finds out that I was a boy?” I ask.

My mom thinks about it for a few seconds. “Hmm, I don’t know, but from what I’ve seen, I think she would probably not be the least bit  fazed and based on the magazine she gave you, she might even take it as a challenge to get you even more girl trained.” She says with mischievous grin.

“Moomm!” I say with alarm as I imagine what would really happen at Amanda’s slumber party if she knew about me.  It would be a fate worse than death. She would have me surrounded and outnumbered by her friends as they pored through all the girl magazines to find new ways to style my hair or cover my face with makeup in an effort to make me look even more pretty.  Then, there is the nail paint, fashion tips and cute boy talk. H1, kill me now, please.

My mom just laughs at my reaction.  “I’ll talk to Barb tomorrow, sound her out about Amanda and you.”

“Don’t tell her about me, please!” I say.

My mom looks at me with a serious expression. “Hmmm, I’m not planning on it, but depending on what she says, it might need to be mentioned to her so that she can prepare Amanda. I mean, if you and Amanda continue to stay friends, it’s going to come out eventually, right?” She asks.

Defeated by her logic, I sigh with defeat. “You’re right. It probably will and I guess it might be better if it wasn’t a total surprise to her. I’m just worried that she will end up hating me and I would feel bad because I really had fun being with her.”

My mom shrugs her shoulders. “Well, if that’s the case, then I guess that she just isn’t as good of a person as I think she is, but I don’t think that you need to worry about it.” My mom says as she gives me another hug.

I return her embrace and in the comfort of her arms, I feel myself relax and suddenly feel very sleepy.  I yawn and she lets me go with an affectionate kiss on my check as she tucks me into my bed.  She turns off the light and I watch her stumble a bit in the suddenly dark room as she makes her way back to her bed.  

I guess that I am pretty tired, because I am out before I even realize it. Sadly, 1.5 hours later, I wake up and feel completely refreshed, awake and ready to go.  Crap!  It’s only 0300 hours. Now what do I do for six hours or seven hours?

I look around the room and spot the Seventeen magazine sitting innocently on top of my suitcase.  No way. I am not that desperate, but I could just scan it, couldn’t I?  That’s not really reading it, is it?  I silently pad over, grab the magazine, take it into the bathroom for the light and rapidly scan the pages while I try to ignore the magazine’s content.  Well, I try, but do still notice the many colorful pictures of girls wearing many different outfits and styles.

Done, I set the offending magazine down, silently return to my bed, prop myself up with my pillows and enter my VR world. Feeling the need to blow off some steam, I suit up in my Selene ass kicking outfit, complete with my weapons and hit the firing range.  This time, I change up my sensible footwear by changing my boots into some sexy four inch stiletto heels.  That proves to be a little too extreme, so I drop them down to match my real boots with a simple two inch heel.  I can’t help admire myself in the mirror for a few minutes.  The skin tight black leather plus the heels really make my legs and ass look hot.

I can’t believe that I just thought that, but at the same time, I can’t help feel a little proud.  

That’s enough!  

I call up the range and start blasting things to help take my mind off of all my confusing boy/girl thoughts.  It takes over 30 rounds of hot-lead-blowing-crap-up therapy before I really forget about all my issues and enjoy myself.  30 rounds later and I decide to pull up my real-life simulator mode and re-create the mall parking lot.  I want to try Mr. Smith’s suggestion and see if it helps.

Once I get everything setup, I feel pretty proud by how real everything looks, but it is also kind of spooky.  I start the simulation and discover that taking the knife does help improve my score, but after five tries, I still manage to get shot twice. I decide that I need to learn how to throw a knife.

30 minutes later and 217 throws at various targets and ranges, I think I might have the hang of it. If the target is less than 10 meters away, I can be fairly sure of hitting them with the pointy side 92.7% of the time.  More than 10 meters and that rate rapidly plummets to zero percent until the target is 30 meters.  Five meters is 98.8%.

My next five runs through the sim result in me winning with a perfect score.  The dude who likes to shoot me doesn’t do so well with his buddy’s knife sticking out of his shoulder.

For my forth run, I decide to try taking the first dude’s .45 instead of his knife.  That approach helps a lot, but their body armor ends up giving them the edge. Out of seven runs, I manage to win six of them. I sort of messed up on my first run, but their body armor and the dude who shoots me most of the time really make this game hard.  

Okay, no more miss nice girl! Or something...  

It’s really simple. Body armor just means I have to aim for their heads.  The enemy dudes are also following the same script, so it’s actually getting a little boring. I tell the sim to give them a bit more intelligence.

With that in mind, I start another sim run.  Time slows and once again, I take the first dude’s .45 and instead of aiming center mass for the other targets, I go for head shots to take them out as fast as possible.

[CRAACK!]

The second dude sprays blood and brains all over the car.  I quickly stalk forward while trying to maintain a steady firing stance.  

[CRAACK!]

The third dude, the guy with the shot gun; his head snaps back as a small hole appears right between his eyes.  I watch in slow motion as his brains, skull and bits of hair mixed together blast out of the back of his head. Small hole right between his eyes, big pink mess out of the back.  

[CRAACK!]

Where did the third shot come from? The dude who normally shoots me is just coming out from behind the SUV.  I didn’t get hit. So who shot who? That question makes me think for a nano second and that pause causes me to notice a few things.

1) I’m not using that STIM thing.  
2) Watching someone’s brains get blown out of the back of their heads is really gross and not at all like on TV.
3) I know it is just a simulation, but I just killed two people.  I didn’t just knock them down and maybe hurt them real bad. I just blew their brains out.

Stop!

Everything freezes and that makes it worse because the dude I just killed is lying face down with a big pink mass mixed with bits of bone and hair where the back of his head used to be.  I can’t help it; I look over at the first dude I shot.  It’s just as bad.  I look over at my simulated Mom and discover that she is frozen in mid-fall and she is missing the side of her head.  There are even bits and pieces frozen in mid-air with her. The guy who was holding her decided to shoot her this time.  I gave them too much intelligence.

I don’t feel so good.  I snap out of my VR world and run into the bathroom, tears streaming down my face as I hold my hand over my mouth in an attempt to not toss my cookies all over the floor.  I make it to the toilet, mostly.  I make a huge mess as I spray puke into the toilet.

“Bree!” My mom yells from the other room.  She makes it into the bathroom in record time and is able to witness me void the contents of my stomach for a second time as the vivid image of my mom frozen in time runs through my head.  I’m sobbing and puking at the same time.

“Bree! What’s wrong?” My mom asks as she automatically grabs a towel to help with the over-spray.

“I, I shot them and then, they...BAAARFFF!  *cough* *cough* *cry*”

“What? You shot them?  Oh honey, did you just have a nightmare?” My mom asks as I start to get things under control.

“No, I...” I say as I look up at her concerned and loving face.  That reminds me of what I saw happen to my mom and once again, I have to turn my head as I mostly dry heave into the toilet with lovely strings of drool streaming from my mouth.

When I lift my head for the third time, my mom uses a wet wash cloth to wipe my face for me.

“Bree, it was just a nightmare. Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.” My mom says, trying to console me.

“No, it wasn’t a nightmare.” I whisper as the bile taste in my mouth makes me feel like barfing again.  Just in case, I turn back to the toilet, but I manage to keep from barfing again.

My mom sits on the edge of the tub and puts her hand on my shoulder to try and reassure me. “What?” She asks.

With tears pouring out of my eyes, I turn to her.  “It wasn’t a nightmare. I woke up after an hour and a half and then, I decided to play around in my VR thing.” I say with an ashamed whisper.

“Okay...” My mom says while giving me a look that tells me to continue.

“Well, then I decided to try and re-create the fight to see if I could do a better job.”  I say as I stop and turn away, afraid to continue.  I start to cry again.

“Bree, what happened?” My mom gently asks, placing both of her hands on my shoulders

I turn back. “I took the gun from the first guy, and then I killed the next two. Since they had armor jackets, I aimed for their heads. It was so easy and I didn’t miss. I blew their brains out and because I did that, the guy who was holding you...” I say before I turn back and violently dry heave into the toilet again.

“Oh, Bree.” My mom says as she wraps me up in a hug.  “It wasn’t...”

I stop her. “Yes, I know, but it was.  I saw in slow motion the small hole the bullet made, followed by their brains mixed with bits of bone and hair as that mess sprayed out of the back of their heads. I saw you falling to the ground with the side of your...” I say just before I have to stop and dry heave again.  This time some bits come up and I have no idea where it came from because I can’t remember the last time I ate carrots.

“Bree?” My mom gently asks. “Why don’t you hop in the shower while I clean up in here?  The hot water will help you feel better.”

I look down and realize that I’ve also made a slight mess on my silk pajamas. “Oh, no! Mom, I ruined them!” I say as I break down and cry some more.

“No you didn’t. They will be fine. Here, take them off and I will soak them while you get the shower started.” She says gently,  her voice soft and calming as she gives me direction and something else to think about.

The heat from the hot, steamy water sinks into my muscles as it beats down on my back.  As the water cascades down my body, I feel the tension drain away with the water.  I simply stand under the water and enjoy the feeling while my mom fills the sink with water for my PJ top.  She mostly talks to herself while at the same time, providing me with assurances that my top is fine.  Meaningless chatter that has a calming effect on me because it’s not about the bad stuff.  That small reminder causes me to shiver for a second.  I decide to distract myself with the starting to feel normal sensation of washing my new body.  I am not really that dirty, but the feeling of the soapy washcloth against my skin is calming.

“There!  All done.  Now, it just needs to dry.” My mom says as she sits on the toilet seat cover. “So, honey, have you given any more thought about Whateley and what it might be like to leave home?”

“Umm, no, not really. I have just been too busy, but I am a little nervous. I was hoping to be able to spend some time at home before I went, but I guess that it might be better if I went to a school where people like me are considered normal.” I say while smiling at the irony of the situation.  I have to go to a school for the abnormal to feel normal.

“Well, if you didn’t already know, I’m freaking out over the idea. Your dad and I almost lost you and now you’re going to be leaving us and going to an out of state school.” My mom says with her voice on the edge of breaking down there near the end.

I poke my head out of the curtain. “Mom, it’s only going to be for a few months, right?  I’ll be home for summer vacation.” I say, trying to reassure her.

She gratefully smiles at me as she dabs her eyes with a tissue. “I know, but, well, you know...”

I know exactly what she was looking forward to. “Yep, sorry Mom, but I guess that you and Lindsay’s plot to drag me into some beauty salon will just have to wait.” I say with a smirk.

She gasps with mock surprise. “Why you little stinker!” She says before laughing.  

I drop back under the water and rinse a final time before regretfully shutting off the water. As I pull the curtain back, my mom hands me a towel, open and already in position to wrap around my chest, girl style.  Since I got my hair wet, she pulls me over to the mirror and works on drying my hair for me.  My mom yawns a couple of times before my hair is done.

“Mom, thanks, but you should get back to bed.” I say as she looks at me skeptically.  “I’m fine now, really.”

“Well, let’s get you into your spare PJ’s and we can talk about it.” My mom says as she leads me out of the bathroom and rummages through my suitcase for me.  She hands me a fresh pair of panties and as soon as I have those in place, my PJ bottoms and top.

I am so glad she got me a spare set of normal PJ’s instead of one of those sheer and sexy nightgown things like Nikki had. I could never wear something so, umm, sexy. What if someone saw me?

My mom tucks me into my bed and makes me promise to not run another sim thing tonight, or morning.  I guess that 4 AM is technically the morning, even though it is still dark out.  With the intention of just taking a minute, she lies down on top of the bed and next to me, hugs me close and quickly falls asleep. It feels nice to have my mom hugging me, but I don’t think she intended to fall asleep while doing so.  I gingerly extract myself from her, grab the blanket from her bed and tuck her into my bed before I rejoin her.  I decide to sit up against the headboard and keep an eye on my mom while I enter my VR living room to read a book or two. Maybe I will watch some TV. Cartoons should be on in a few hours and I kind of want to see the morning news.  

I finish reading my book and it is 6am so I activate my internal TV and find the local news station.  They have a piece about my adventure, but nothing new since it is early and everyone who might have something to say is still asleep.  Bored with that, I find some cartoons to watch and veg.  I use Amanda’s girl magazine to rest my feet on the coffee table.  There is no way that I am going to read it, but at least it is good for something.

0830 hours, the cartoons are over, my mom is still peacefully asleep and I’m bored.  However; I am not bored enough to try my sim again.  I stare off in space for another five long minutes before I finally give in to Amanda’s magazine. It is taunting me with its bright and cheerful cover, but I find the article titles designed to interest girls to buying and reading the magazine more amusing than interesting.  Unfortunately, that amusement draws me in, so maybe the editors are smarter than I give them credit because I am just dying to learn what jeans would work best for my body.

I am just getting into, I mean laughing about an article about why boys like the smoky eye effect and how to properly duplicate it when my mom rescues me by stretching and waking up with a fond smile as she spots me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your bed.” She says.

“It’s okay, Mom, you were tired.” I grin at her. “Plus, you snored, so I couldn’t sleep anyway.” I say.

My mom laughs. “I did not!  So mean, ya stinker. What time is it?” She asks as she hops out of my bed.

“Umm, 9:04 AM.” I say, translating my military time into civilian time for her.

“Okay, well, let’s get ready. I guess we can just wear some casual clothes and maybe bring our sweats, just in case. I kind of doubt that they will have us lifting weights or running on the treadmill again today.” My mom says.

I am pleased when we find Air Man, err, Air Woman Jessica is waiting for us in the lobby.  She quickly straightens up and smiles at us as we approach. “Hey, Mrs. Peters and Bree.  Good to see you two again. I was a little surprised when my chief had me come over to pick you two up so late.” She says.

My mom laughs. “Yeah, we had a bit of an adventure at the mall last night, so we got to sleep in.”

Jessica’s face clouds with alarm. “Oh, are you two okay? I heard that there was some sort of attack at the PHM. What happened? Did anyone get hurt?” She asks with a quick glance of concern for me before her eyes return to my mom’s face.

My mom looks like she is about to answer, but stops herself. “How about if we talk about it in the car?” She asks.

“Oh, sure. You all aren’t due until ten hundred hours. Did you want to stop someplace for a quick breakfast?” Jessica asks as she leads us out to the government issued non-descript sedan..

My mom fills her in on most of what happened, but she leaves out me getting shot and the top secret after action thing with Mr. Smith.  Jessica is floored by what she is told.  She just can’t believe that someone would want to attack either of us.  To make things easier, we decide to just grab some food from the hospital’s cafeteria.  That doesn’t give us time to answer all of Jessica’s questions, so she gives my mom her phone number and makes her promise to call her when everything is settled down. Jessica surprises me with a quick hug under the guise of helping me out of the back seat when she drops us off in front of the base’s hospital.  No one saw her do it, but she still looks around guiltily as she reflexively straightens her uniform.

We all wave good-bye to each other as she slowly drives away.  After a quick bite, we make it back to the entry area just in time to catch Mrs. Townsend entering the building.  That delays us an extra minute because she insists on greeting us both with hugs, asking us how we slept and informing me that, while dog tired, Amanda can’t wait until I can come visit her again.  I get an extra hug for Amanda too.

They split us up again for the extra tests.  They test my mom for projecting empathetic powers while they test me for cyber powers. The testers get pretty excited when I mess with and take over a simple calculator, but grow a little disappointed when I pretend to fail with an old laptop.  I am glad that Mr. Reilly is there with me because he doesn’t say a word or even give any indication to the test givers that I might be sandbagging when they make a note in my file.

“Minor cyberpathic abilities that may allow subject to control or influence the operation of simple electronic devices.”

I’m pretty happy with that result and Mr. Reilly quietly tells me that I did a good job as we walk down the hall on our way to the administrative section. They have my mom for 30 more minutes and I end up wasting my time by reading an old Car & Driver magazine that they have in the lobby. When she finally arrives, my mom looks a little exhausted. I guess that they tested her a little harder than they tested me, but projecting empaths are a little more rare and powerful than just a receiving empath.
 

**

<1012 Hours, CIA Headquarters, McLean, VA>

CIA, Special Projects Director Falks was analyzing the latest intel from his field agents when he heard a knock on his office door.  Angered by the interruption that broke his train of thought regarding the report of the MCO’s secret mutant detention facility in the Nevada desert; he looked up from his report and glared at the door. “Enter! Damnit.” He said.

His deputy director poked his head into the door as it opened. “Sir?  Sorry to interrupt you, but the tap we have on the DOD’s new test system at Langley Air Base just reported an anomalous reading that could be a possible cyber-pathic power set.”

His anger over the interruption instantly forgotten. “Who is the subject?” He asked, impatiently.

“Not sure sir, DARPA found her and is sponsoring her testing. The codename on the file is ‘Whisper’. Female. Age 15. Sidhe.”

“How old is this data?”

“The test report is dated from yesterday at 1700 hours, sir.”

“Okay, so the subject is probably still in the testing lab area. Notify Dr. Z that we have a possible ‘Circuit Breaker’ subject for him to examine. I want you to put together an extraction team for this ‘Whisper’ test subject. I want her on the good doctor’s exam table before the day is over.”

“Are you sure that is advisable sir?  We are talking about taking a target from DARPA and the DOD.”

“DARPA, I’m not worried about.  That bunch of egg heads wouldn’t know the first thing about National Security and how dangerous their little toy might be.  The DOD should know better and I’m sure that if the worst happens, they will play ball. Just make sure that our extraction team knows that there can be no casualties with this extraction.  They can abort if they deem it necessary.”

“Can’t we just do it officially then?”

“Summers, I know that I pay you to play the devil’s advocate for me, but in this case, trust me.  I know what needs to be done.”

“If you’re sure, sir.”

“I am abso-pos-o-lutely sure.  Just thinking about another ‘Circuit Breaker’ on the loose gives me shivers. Hell, we probably won’t find anything and in that case, this Whisper girl will wake up on a park bench with nothing but a dream or two.  If we do find something, well, then we will just have to cross that bridge if we get to it.”

“Yes, sir.  I will get Mirage’s team on it.”

“Good.  Mirage has her shit together and her team knows what they are doing.”

“Yes, sir.  Since the target is in a DOD Facility, other departments in the CIA will probably end up involved in the initial investigation, should we set up a patsy?”

“Hmmm, good idea.  How about we submit a report saying that an MCO van was spotted in the area about the time the extraction occurs?”

“The MCO?”

“Yeah, the bastards have been a royal pain in the ass the last few years and they could use a little sunshine shone into their organization.”

“Yes sir. I will get the ball rolling.” Summers said as he quickly left his boss’ office and closed the door behind him.

Director Falks tried to use his security clearance to access the DOD’s network and pull up anything on this Whisper girl, but it was like she didn’t exist and that wasn’t normal for the DOD.

Suddenly nervous about his orders, Director Falks leaned back in his chair and momentarily stared at the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. Reaching a decision, he quickly leaned forward, looked up a number from his old fashioned rolodex and dialed a number.  His phone’s security circuits kicked in and a green light telling him that he had a secure, scrambled and un-tapped connection turned on as the other party located at the NSA’s Fort Meade headquarters’ building answered their phone.

“Hello?  Analyst Miller, how may I help you?” The man on the other end of the line asked.

“One Night in Bangkok” Director Falk said. Director Falk couldn’t suppress a pleased grin when he heard Miller gulp with fear and surprise at his uttering of the code phrase.  He felt exceptionally grateful with his luck at finding Analyst Miller and discovering his weakness for young women, women who were really men, while conducting routine surveillance of their own hotel rooms while on a intel mission in Thailand a few years ago.  Miller had been on loan from the NSA to help the CIA with the signal interception of a known terrorist leader that was hiding out in that country.

Now, Miller was in the perfect position to help him root out some intel on this Whisper girl.  He felt sure that the NSA would be able to access any data that existed, no matter how secret or hard to find it might be.

“How can I help you, sir?” Miller asked after Director Falk purposely let the silence drag on to force Miller into a weaker position.

Director Falk grinned with self-satisfied victory. “I need you to find out anything you can on a DOD mutant. Code name is Whisper.  I will call you back in thirty.” He said before he hung up without waiting for a reply.

Director Falk looked at his watch and just to make Miller sweat, he decided to call the freak back in 45 minutes or maybe even an hour.
 

**

James Miller glared at his phone’s receiver.  Fucking Falk and his blackmail pissed him off, but there was nothing that he could do about it. If the agency found out about his tastes in bed, no matter how private they should be, he would be politely
asked to seek employment elsewhere.  The truly sucky part is that the NSA would be perfectly justified in doing so since it is risky to have agents working for you who can be blackmailed to provide counterintelligence to an enemy agent.  Miller was almost able to absolve his guilt by rationalizing the fact that Falk was technically on the same team, just not in the NSA.

He was really just doing a favor for a colleague at another friendly agency.  With that in mind, he logged into his work station, but paused before he started his hunt for this “Whisper” target.  If Director Falk was calling him to dig up data, then that meant it was out of his reach and that meant it was very classified.  Maybe even dangerously classified and accessing it might get him in trouble. If he was caught looking at it.  Not that that would happen. Especially with the search coming from within the NSA and impossible to trace, but just in case, he bounced his search request through a few overseas offices and satellites just to make a trace harder.

His initial searches came up empty and we was about to give up, until his search matched a news report from Newport News, VA that mentioned the target.  He quickly scanned through the report and the mention of the FBI and Air Force helicopters on the scene raised his internal alarms.  Especially since none of this data was found on either the FBI’s or DOD’s networks.  Someone had this buried very deeply down the rabbit hole. Now that he was on the hunt and he smelled a drop of blood, his professional pride almost forced him to find out why this Whisper girl was so secret.

It took him another 20 minutes of digging to find it.  He had to bypass a shit load of security that he shouldn’t have been able to bypass, but  his hacking tool chest was the best.  The presidential security seal almost made him stop, but he knew that Falk was going to be calling him in less than five minutes and he wanted to have something to give him.  Maybe he would stop bugging him if he got him the data.  Fuck, for presidential secure data, the asshole better delete the video and shred his contact info.

With that in mind, he activated his best password cracking tool and felt confident that he would get past the security.  He only had to type in a password once. Any password would do. It didn’t have to be the correct password. The NSA’s tool would use that to sneak into the system, analyze the system’s single bad password response and use that to return the correct password.  He wasn’t sure how the program did its magic, but it had never let him down before.

Once he hit the enter key for the password, his program attacked the other system’s defenses. Normally, it took a few seconds and then, the correct password would show up on his screen for him to enter.  This time, his system just sat there. First for 5 seconds, then 10 seconds and then, he started to wonder what was wrong.  He tabbed out to his main desktop and was shocked to discover that his route was being traced by the other system.  He was even more shocked by the fact that his system never even alerted him about the trace.

“Holy fuck...” Miller whispered as he watched with amazement while his trail was rapidly traced back to him.  

“Shit!” He said as he came to his senses and scrambled to unplug his network cable to cut the connection before it could trace all the back to him.  For good measure, he turned off his workstation’s power supply before he sank back into his chair with relief.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...” Miller chanted to himself in an effort to gather his senses.  The mantra seemed to help as he calmly stood up under the guise of stretching his legs to see if there was anyone on his floor looking for him.  For once, he was glad that his cube neighbor had his headphones on with the volume loud enough for Miller to hear the tinny music from their speakers.  The dude’s hearing had to be really bad for him to need his music to be that loud, but it also meant that he didn’t hear any of his swearing just now.

Miller sat back down and decided to restart his workstation.  He left the cable unplugged, but set it back in place to make it look like it somehow worked its way loose.  Then, he called the tech support line to complain about his workstation not being able to connect to the network.   That should help cover his tracks some. After all, how could it have been him when his network was down?

That fucker Falk should have called him back 10 minutes ago and that pissed him off, but at the same time, he was glad because it gave him more time to take care of his own ass.  Actually, he couldn’t wait for that bastard to call him back now. He would tell him that he couldn’t find anything, except for the public news broadcast. Whoever this Whisper girl was, she was one hot potato. Nuclear hot and anyone who touched her would be playing with fire. Let the fucker step on his own dick and maybe his little blackmail problem will go away on its own.
 

**

Lunch was good. Mr. Reilly took my mom, Dr. Edmundson and me to a really good seafood restaurant. I was never a fan of seafood and growing up in New Mexico probably didn’t help with that opinion since fresh, seafood, New Mexico and desert don’t go together.

We took a long lunch and didn’t get back to the test facility until well after 1300 hours. I guess that Mr. Reilly did that on purpose, just to keep them from doing any more tests on me.  Now, Mom and Mr. Reilly are talking about Whateley, JROTC scholarship and the military service commitment part.  Apparently, normal JROTC students don’t have a service commitment, but normal JROTC students don’t attend private schools either.  I don’t see a problem with the commitment clause. Besides, it only kicks in if I decide to not go to college.

I take a bathroom break and instead of returning to Mr. Reilly’s temporary office, I decide to hang out in the lobby area. That way, I can talk to Mrs. Townsend when she is not busy or read some more of the magazines out there.  I would do the VR thing, but I don’t really feel that bored, just yet.

The nice thing about this secret facility is that there isn’t a lot of traffic and the magazines aren’t all torn apart. Due to the low traffic part, I notice it when a woman that I have not seen before enters the lobby from the direction of the medical wing.  She is wearing a lab coat, carrying a clipboard, and looking for someone.  I lower my magazine when she changes course and heads towards me.

“Hello? Are you Whisper?” She asks.

I am a little surprised to see that her voice stress reading is in the yellow.  I guess that she is a little nervous that I might not be Whisper or something.

>DoD/R&D/Research Analyst/GS11/Josie/Ann/Bayer/xxx-xx-xxxx/O-/FALSE  

“Yes, that’s me.  What’s up?” I ask as I close my magazine to be polite to her.  She has short brown hair, brown eyes, an attractive face and what looks like a nice body underneath her frumpy lab coat.

“Hi, I’m Josie.  They sent to grab you for one quick little test.” She says with a smile.  Her stress gauge is still in the yellow, but it has dropped a little.

“Oh, I didn’t know that I needed some more tests and I’m kind of waiting on my mom right now.” I say. I feel a little nervous about this. It sounds like she is expecting me to just go with her without my mom.

“Oh, I’m sorry. They never mentioned that to me, but the test should only take a few minutes. Why don’t you follow me and we can get it over with?” She asks, her stress gauge still in the yellow.  She looks pretty calm otherwise, so I don’t know why she’s sounding so stressed.

“Okay, but I really need to wait for my mom. I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her.” I say, expecting that to stop her.

“That’s okay. As soon as I drop you off, I can run back and get your mom.  Heck, by the time I grabbed her, you would probably even be done.” Josie says, trying to sound helpful as her stress gauge hits the upper yellow range.  She must have a mean boss or something to be so worried about me going with her right now.  I guess it will be okay. I don’t know how much longer my mom will be in there, but they should be able to let her know where I am at before too long.

I smile at her as I put the magazine down and stand up. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea.  I’m sorry, but what was your name again?” I ask.  I know what it is, but something just doesn’t feel right.

“Oh, sorry.” She nervously laughs. “Josie, Josie Bayer.”  Her name hits the red zone.  What in the heck is her problem?

I follow her lead as she turns around and walks back from the direction that she came.  I’m a little curious as to why she is so nervous. “So, umm, Josie.  What tests do I need to do now?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing much. I think that they might just want to do some additional blood work.” She replies as she looks back to answer my question. Her stress gauge hits the low red zone this time.

It looks like we are heading back to the lab wing, but my mini-map says we are almost at where the elevators should be.  I don’t see any elevators. I just see the hallway for the medical wing and the associated exam rooms as we walk past them.

What in the heck is going on here? Is my map broken?

I decide to turn off the HUD filters for her.  That way, I can see everything that my targeting system has found on her body.  They are pretty tough about the ‘no cell phone’ rules here, so I am not surprised when I don’t see one on her body somewhere, but she does have a small electronic wrist watch on her left wrist. Something pings my sensors as I detect a rapid burst radio transmission from her.  My targeting system highlights a device behind her right ear, but I can’t see anything.  What is going on here?  

While I am viewing the detailed scan results for her and pondering my mini-map malfunction, I have been lagging behind her. She politely stops until I catch up with her.

“Sorry, I think that my map is messing up, or something.” I say as I receive confirmation of that when my mini-map shows us right at the elevator doors.  

Now Josie looks confused. “Your what?” She asks.

That causes me to stop. Something is definitely not right and I am puzzled by her ear radio thing that I can’t see.  She walks forward again, but stops a few feet and motions for me to follow.  Confused, I automatically follow her and stop when I realize that I can sense the elevator’s control panel, but I’m standing in the middle of a hallway. How can that be?

I start to turn around to ask Josie a question when I feel a sharp pain in my left arm.  I look down and Josie has what looks like a ball point pen held against my arm.

>Medical Alert!  
>Anesthetic agent detected!
>Unknown molecular compound detected!
>Neutralizing compounds...

That is all I see before everything fades to black.