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: Again, sorry for the extreme delay in this chapter. Nothing new to report here, just the summer + work + life is still making it hard to string the hours together for the "writing zone". Thanks for my beta readers for their feedback and patience. Thanks to my readers for their patience too! And last, but not least, djkauf for his magical editing.

** Chapter 35 **

Director Falk’s good mood was long gone and all he wanted to do right now was to pull out the bottle of scotch hidden in his desk drawer. The bottle was there for celebrations, but now he wanted it more for its “medicinal” purpose.  He wasn’t sure if the scotch would be enough and he briefly considered pulling out his service revolver from its drawer. The CIA’s Internal Affairs was on the hunt, his own grapevine told him that the President was pissed, the FBI was on the case and even more alarming; his “contact” with the NSA was not answering his phone.  Whatever she really was, this Whisper girl was looking like she could be his own career ending Waterloo.

The third call from the team that notified him that the target had escaped and that the team was now dealing with the local law enforcement put the cherry on top of his shit storm sundae.  The only bright spot in the entire mess was the fact that Mirage was uninjured and able to keep the LEO’s from asking too many questions.

With all of the shit now flowing downhill, Mirage was his umbrella and the only person who might keep all of their careers intact. She knew enough to keep the team’s identities from getting out.  The only special instruction he had to give was to instruct her to make it look like the escaped target was more violent and physically dangerous than she really was. Hell, she did shoot and injure two of his men. Maybe the target really was a psycho like that Circuit Breaker freak and she just had bad aim.

It worked. The now panic stricken local law enforcement had a started a massive manhunt for Whisper, but the city lacked a SWAT team that could handle a mutant rampage. He fully expected the FBI and the MCO to sweep in any minute now and take over for the overwhelmed police department. The target’s location was unknown, but a quick look at the map told him all he needed to know.  She was a teenage girl and there was a large shopping mall less than a mile from where she escaped.  

The girl was a loose end that might be able to identify his agents and that would lead Internal Affairs straight to his office. He toyed with the idea of calling the MCO, but they would be like a bull in the china shop and even more unpredictable.  The MCO was probably already involved in the manhunt and calling his contact within the MCO would only increase his risk of detection.  One, Internal Affairs would be all over the outgoing and incoming calls log; two, a call to the MCO right now would stand out like a sore thumb and three, there was no way he would even consider using his personal cell phone. No, he needed to have Whisper just disappear or even better, be killed while ‘resisting arrest’, but the only assets he had on hand that stood any chance causing that outcome were Mirage and Laskow.  
 

**

Deputy Director Reilly and everyone else in the conference room could not believe what they were hearing.  The good news was that Whisper had escaped from her kidnappers. The bad news was that she was also being accused of murdering two unidentified federal agents and an off-duty police officer during her escape.  The FBI agents that arrived at the site of a crashed van found the van abandoned with the police officers on the scene reporting that they had just missed the Department of Paranormal Affairs (DPA) officers. Apparently, another team of agents had already arrived and departed with the “victims” of the “horrible mutant attack”.

That was how the local police officers had framed it and that is now how the local news stations were starting to report the event. Of course, the DPA knew nothing about it and had no agents missing or even in the same city. The fact that the so called DPA agents were still unidentified and unaccounted for confused and pissed him off to no end.  Especially when the local police chief accepted an offer for assistance from the MCO even though he knew that the FBI was on the case.  That bit of news got the President out of his meeting and he was not happy about that. He wanted the balls of whoever authorized this operation on the DOD and Whisper.

Nick felt fairly confident that it was either the CIA or the NSA who had “borrowed” Whisper, but so far the Directors of both of those agencies had failed to turn up any leads.  The only consolation that Mr. Reilly felt right now was that he wasn’t the Director of the NSA. The White House’s security team reported an attempted breach of Whisper’s secured files and that breach was traced back to somewhere within the NSA.

He was very worried about Whisper, but there wasn’t anything that he could do until she took the risk and contacted him.  They knew where she was last spotted  and where she had escaped from.  A FBI team already had the escape site completely englobed with agents.  The off-duty police officer who was employed as the site’s security guard was in critical condition and in the process of being loaded onto a helicopter to be taken to the nearest trauma center.  That accounted for the “murdered” police officer.

The discovery of an abandoned field surgical suite at the site sent chills down his spine.  Someone had planned on performing medical examinations and possibly experiments on Whisper.

The map of the area showed that there were some good places for Whisper to hide in or be hidden in. There was a hospital and a few medical facilities within close proximity.  There were also lots of coffee shops, restaurants, shops and other public places that she could hide out in.  Both he and Mrs. Peters felt certain that the MacArthur Mall was the leading candidate and a couple of teams of FBI agents had already been dispatched to that location to try and find her.  

It appeared that the MCO also agreed with that assessment since they had two drop ships loaded with their top of the line elite Mutant Assault Armor Troopers currently en-route for the same place.  The MCO claimed that they weren’t going to deploy them unless the situation deemed the use of force to protect innocent civilians from a mutant rampage if necessary. The ships would just  loiter in the area, just in case.  Additionally, the MCO officer in charge claimed that they were just acting on behalf of the local authorities and as such, their assistance legally fell under their charter as framed by the treaty governing their existence.

Nick’s phone sat on the table, plugged into his charger and ready in case Whisper tried to call him.  Mrs. Peter’s phone sat right next to his phone. Additionally, Dr. Edmundson made sure that Whisper’s mil-net access was wide open in case she somehow found a mil-net access point and tried to contact them that way.

Nick’s fury increased even more as they watched the two MCO drop ships take up station above the area at 60,000 feet to appease the commercial traffic controllers and the U.S. military.  While he knew that it would cause  both a political and physical disaster, he considered asking the President if they could order the Air Force to down the MCO drop ships.

If only Whisper would call.
 

**

I am scanning the emergency bands and the police are now officially freaking out.  Apparently, Michelle was able to convince the cops that I am a violent and dangerous mutant. Oh yeah, and that she is with the DPA and not the CIA.  I am beginning to regret my decision  not to shoot her.

As soon as I enter the mall, I feel a sense of safety wash over me. I am no longer out in the open and on the street where anyone could just grab me. Also, there are lots of nooks and crannies in here that I can hide in until the troops can arrive.  Well, if I can find a phone and get a hold of Mr. Reilly.

The part of the mall that I entered is pretty empty. I guess that I either got lucky and picked the less used entrance, or the mall isn’t that popular and my idea of blending into the crowds isn’t going to work.  

Oh crap! Where are the cameras?  Did they spot me entering the mall?  

>Scanning IR Frequencies for Enemy Surveillance devices...
>Surveillance devices detected.
>Mapping evasion patterns....

As I continue down the hallway and toward the main thoroughfare, my HUD is overlaid with the camera positions with their current possible viewing arc highlighted in red.  Yep, the camera at the entrance caught me entering the mall, but now that I know where they are and how to avoid them; I can plot a course to stay out of sight.  

I pass a colorful children’s toy store and as I approach a set of escalators that go up, I run into a lot more people.  That’s a relief.  There is no way that the CIA people can get me out of this place without causing a scene.  The majority of the shoppers here are professionally dressed women and teen girls around my age with a smattering of professionally dressed men and grubby boys.  I can’t believe that I used to dress like that;  grungy jeans and a simple t-shirt.  

Wait a cotton picking minute!  

What in the heck am I thinking?  I really miss being able to dress all grubby and not have anyone say anything about it. And, why do I suddenly think that is “grubby”?  That’s not grubby; that’s easy and comfortable.  I think it is time to purge Amanda’s magazine from my memory. It must have started subliminally reprogramming my keen denim and t-shirt fashion sense, but maybe later; I don’t want to accidentally delete something important and there was that one article that I didn’t get to finish.  

The one thing that they all have in common though, is the quality of their clothing.  Even the cool grungy boys are wearing name brand expensive stuff.  I guess this mall attracts the high income crowd. I feel a little under-dressed right now, but no one seems to be looking at me like I’m out of place. Maybe this mall has people in exercise clothes walking around it all the time like they do in the mall back home?  

I spot a fresh faced security guard with a radio clipped to his shirt checking me out. Well, not me, but the tall blond runner babe in skin tight clothing.  He looks appreciative and that tells me that I really need to change my disguise, fast.

I divert course toward the guard while avoiding a camera sweep. “Umm, sorry sir, but is there a restroom nearby?” I ask with a tentative smile to help distract him even more.  It works.  I easily pick out his radio’s frequency and I am delighted to discover that it is not encrypted.  I figure that if the police or the CIA storm the place, the security guards will among the first to know. Of course, the CIA probably wouldn’t storm the place.  They would just sneak a bunch of assassins and snipers in to shoot me. Regardless, I decide to add their frequency to my already very noisy police monitor.

He blushes and stammers. “Y-yes ma’am. Just down that way.” He regains his composure as he points down the main thoroughfare with all the shops on either side and above. “And the first left.”

“Thanks!” I say with a genuinely grateful smile as I turn to follow his directions. I am going to guess that he’s not a CIA assassin.  I don’t look behind me, but until I lose myself in the crowd; I can feel his eyes on my illusionary spandex clad butt.  My illusion is holding up very nicely and unlike my invisibility spell, I am not having any problems holding onto it.  I think I could easily keep this going for an hour or more, but I also think that the blond runner babe will draw just a bit more attention than I need right now.

I catch myself looking up and into the rafters above me. I don’t spot any black clad snipers hiding out up there, but I guess they would be pretty bad assassins if I did.  I am probably worrying about nothing. I find it a little hard to believe that they would have known that I would escape and that I would come to this mall, but they did manage to sneak into a top secret uber secure military base and get me out without anyone knowing.

I pass a cash machine on the way to the women’s restroom. No, I don’t accidentally go into the men’s this time, but I do debate trying my power against the cash machine.  Having some cash might come in handy, but I don’t want to steal it.  That is all I need right now; busted for robbing a cash machine in the mall.  

As I enter  my first public girl’s restroom, I spot a few other girls chatting away at the mirror and a couple of the stalls are open.   I kind of expect the girls to scream and yell that I don’t belong here, but they don’t.  They don’t even give me a second look. I find an empty stall and lock the door behind me. The restroom makes me a little nervous.  If they come for me in here, then I will be trapped.  Geez, I am really getting paranoid here.

I decide to use this opportunity to actually use the stall for its intended purpose while I consider my next move.  The person in the stall next to me finishes up and I hear the girls leaving the restroom.  No one currently in the restroom knows what I look like.  I drop my illusion and check myself out.  I mean, I check my wounds out, not, you know.

My wound is completely gone. Nothing there but smooth skin and flakes of dried blood. The blood on my shirt and jeans will definitely stand out here.  Dr. Edmundson was pretty cautious about my blood.  I need a way to clean myself up and remove or destroy all the blood on my clothing.  Maybe my nanites can do something about that?

I focus my attention inward and concentrate on what I need to happen. Okay nanites, clean up the blood stuck to my skin and clothes, please?

>Affirmative.

I try to spot the nanites, but I can’t see them at all. However, I do feel a slight tingling sensation as they ooze out of my skin. They start working on the blood in my shirt and I notice the fabric getting more than just clean.  The fabric is starting to fall apart where there is blood on it.

Wait! Stop!  Don’t eat the fabric, umm, please.

>Affirmative.

The nanites alter their action and my shirt doesn’t disintegrate any further, but it is definitely trashed where the blood was staining it.  My jeans fare a little better.  They end up clean and just a little frayed where the nanites did too good  a job cleaning.  My panties are completely ruined though.  

Crap.  

There is no way that I can wear half eaten panties. Not that there was a lot of fabric to begin with, but now there isn’t even enough fabric left on the waistband to hold them on. I can’t just throw them in the trash or down the toilet.  I guess it is time to go commando.  It is going to sound weird to ask this, but...

Destroy my panties please?

>Affirmative.

I watch in amazement as my panties turn to dust and disappear right before my eyes.  Now, I might need to hit up that cash machine so that I can buy another pair of underwear.  I did pass a Victoria store on the way to the restroom. What am I thinking?  What happened to me the last time I went into one of those stores?  Hmm, maybe I should have asked the nanites to fix my panties instead?

>Alert: <Unidentified> encrypted military frequency traffic detected!

Unidentified? Who is it? Wait, that’s kind of dumb to ask, right?

I don’t receive a reply to that question and that relieves and concerns me at the same time.  Okay, what are the police and mall folks saying?  I pay attention to their traffic and decide that it is now time to get really worried.  They are talking about the two MCO drop ships that hovering over the city. The police sound pretty excited about it, but they do grumble a little about how the MCO is invading their turf.

The police also mention the FBI and how they are investigating the shooting of the security guard who just happens to be an off duty police officer.  Nothing like an “officer down” radio call to get the other police officers feeling testy and they do sound a little mad about that one.  I didn’t shoot the dude, it was Doug, but due to the ‘testimony’ of the so-called DPA agents, they all think that I did it.  That has to be Michelle’s fault.  I really think that I should have shot her, just a little.

Crap!  I need to call Mr. Reilly before it is too late.  I stand up, flush the toilet and pull up my jeans. Ouch, without my panties, the jeans feel a little rough against my skin. I really should have tried asking the nanites to fix my panties.  Going commando is not good, but at least I don’t need to worry about the dreaded VPLs now.  Okay, that does it!  First chance I get, I am deleting Amanda’s magazine from my memory.

Instead of worrying about that, I concentrate on a new disguise.  I need to look like one of the regular shoppers here, rich and maybe even slightly spoiled. I immediately think of Chloe Angstrom.  She is a senior and the most popular girl in my school.  Her dad is loaded and she always has to have the latest fashions.  She is nice though, not stuck up or clueless like that girl in the movie.  

I concentrate on what she looked like the last time I saw her and pour my magic into the spell’s pattern.  I feel the magic ripple over my body then settle down to nothing.  I look down at myself and see that I now look exactly like her. I am wearing a dark blue silk-like top with a  ¾ sleeve black bolo jacket that doesn’t really hide anything or provide warmth.  I also appear to be wearing a pretty, I mean sparkly, diamond chain around my neck that plunges down to draw attention to my, I mean, her nicely sized boobs.  I refuse to think of them as my boobs because well...I don’t know.  It’s just not right, but I must admit that they do look rather nice. Much fuller and bigger than mine. Oh man, what am I thinking?

My skin is now perfectly tanned and I am wearing a tight black skirt that ends just above my knees.  The skirt also has a six inch slit down the left side that exposes just enough thigh to concern me. The dress is further complemented with some opaque white nylons and three inch expensive looking black heels. No idea what brand they are, but they just look expensive to me. Oh yeah, and a nifty matching diamond ankle bracelet.  I kind of forgot that she was wearing that until I looked down at my feet.

Confident that my illusion looks passably good, I step out of my stall and walk over to the mirror.  Her, I mean, my hair appears to be medium length straight blonde with darker blonde streaks running through it or is it the other way around?  Is my hair dark blonde with light blonde highlights?  I don’t know, but it does look nice.  I even got her makeup down and her blue eyes just “pop”.  Well, they do look rather stunning to me. I think the blue top helps bring out my eye color more, or something.  Or maybe it is the diamond earrings combined with her subtly dark smoky eye shadow?

As I reach down to wash my hands, I notice the dark red nail polish, silver pinky ring with a matching diamond tennis bracelet.  Wow, she really goes all out.  I can’t believe that I never really noticed that until now. I mean, I kind of admired her and every guy wanted to date her, but until now, I never noticed all the details that she used to make herself look so hot.  I am almost tempted to pull my skirt down, or up to see what kind of panties she is wearing.  If my imagination is working the same way it was last week, I bet I am now wearing a thong or something similar.  I am not sure if this is such a good idea for a disguise.  I am sure to attract a lot of attention.  

The door opens and a pair of girls walks in.  They are dressed pretty nice, but I am definitely outdoing them.  They look a little upset with me as they walk past me, but then I hear them giggle at each other as they enter their stalls.

“She looks like a total bitch!” One of the girls whispers, thinking that I can’t hear her.

“I know, but did you see those Jimmy Choo’s she has on?  So jealous!”

I can’t help smiling as I walk out of the restroom, but then, I notice that my heels aren’t making any noise and I don’t have a purse.  Crap.  That’s not going to work.  I pause at the door and concentrate on altering my disguise.  The magic takes a bit more effort this time, but I only altered things a little bit, so if anyone is watching; I doubt that they will notice.  

I take a step out and my heels make a solid tapping sound on the floor.  I don’t know much about women’s shoes, but I do know that cheap shoes make more noise and the sound is exactly how I remember Chloe’s real shoes making as she sauntered past me in the hallway at school.  Also, I am now holding a small black fabric purse in my right hand.  I think they call them clutch purses or something. Again, no idea of the brand, but it looks like Chloe’s purse.

I briefly glance at the cash machine again, but I decide against trying anything.  They have cameras on them and the CIA has probably hacked into them like they do all the time on TV shows and movies. I would look mighty suspicious hiding my face from the camera while using the cash machine.  Not that they would recognize me now, but what if they had some super secret face scanning thing that could detect my illusion?  Okay, now I am definitely getting a touch too paranoid.  

Kind of like commercials on TV, I have only been halfway paying attention to what the police are saying on their frequencies, but the gist of it is that there are MCO agents and Feds crawling over every nook and cranny within a five mile radius of my escape site.  I really need to find a phone and call Mr. Reilly.

I know that pay phones are usually near the restrooms, but when I look around the restroom area, I don’t spot any. I don’t have money to use one, but I figure I can hack one of those pretty easy without attracting attention. Okay, cell phone store, where is one?  I spot a map up ahead and begin to walk towards it.

Since I am really wearing tennis shoes, I quickly realize that my gait is a little off for someone who is supposed to be wearing heels. As I walk past the store windows, I glance at my reflection and I use that to work on my gait.  I find that if I walk on my toes, my gait quickly appears more normal and it looks like I really am wearing heels.  

According to the map, this mall has a store for each of the major carriers and they are all right next to each other.  That would be nice, if they weren’t back where I entered the mall.  I start walking that way. My illusionary heels make satisfying clicking sounds on the floor and I can’t help it; I keep stealing glances at myself in the shop windows and that makes me smile.  Especially, when I catch a dude get hit by his girlfriend for looking at me.  That provides a spring to my step and helps me get even more into character.

Yes, I am Chloe Angstrom. My dad, or daddy, as she would say, is the richest man in Santa Fe. My mommy was once the first runner up in the Miss New Mexico pageant and I am going to go to Princeton when I graduate from high school; thank you very much.

I enter the T-Mobile store just as a horde of mall security guys race past me.  I wanted to go to the Verizon store, but T-Mobile was closer.  I am immediately pounced on by one of the sales dudes.

“Hi, I’m Brandon. How may I help you today?”  The smiling sales dude asks as he beats out his buddy to reach me first.  

I glance around and spot a black and pink phone.  Sadly, Brandon catches my gaze.

“Oh, that is the Sidekick 3 limited edition Diane von Furstenberg edition, just in case you’re interested.”

Inside, I am barfing, but I remember seeing Chloe’s phone. It was pink and bedazzled, very girlie. I am betting that she would like the Sidekick and even know who the phone is named after. “Oh. My. God!  The Furstenberg edition!  That’s so cool. I love her stuff.” I say, but I have no idea who she is.

>Searching...
>Diane von Furstenberg, formerly Diane, Princess of Fá¼rstenberg
>DOB: December 31, 1946.
>Bio: A Belgian-American fashion designer best known for her iconic wrap dress.

That’s kind of helpful, I guess.  I don’t even want to know why I had that bit of data stuck inside my head.  “Can I hold it?” I ask him, gushing over the phone.

He smiles at me with the patented “sucker” smile. “Sure, umm, Miss?” He asks, fishing for my name.

“Oh, sorry, Chloe” I say as I pick up the phone.  It is tethered to the display with a retractable steel cable, but as soon as I touch it, the phone opens itself up for me and I know everything about it.  From its 3G network protocol to its unique IMEI number and access code for the cell network.  I think that I can clone it to make a call without actually having the phone.  I debate pouring on more girl flirt charm, but I don’t want to sound like an airhead.  I know that the real Chloe isn’t one, so I see no reason why I should act like one either.  I just need to act a little more girlie than I normally would, somehow.

“Umm, this is nice, but it might be too big for my purse.  Do you have anything smaller?” I ask while gesturing towards my little clutch purse.

Brandon smiles at me. “Yes, Chloe. We carry a very wide selection of phones here. I am positive that we can find one that you will like!” He reaches past me and lightly brushes up against me under the pretense of ‘pointing out’ a smaller flip phone that has a reddish purple color case and thus, girlie.

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you like that.” Brandon says apologetically.

I don’t believe him for a second, but I pretend to be flustered and let him get away with it while I wish that my heels were real so that I could grind them into his foot.

“Oh, that’s nice and it looks like it might be small enough. Can I hold it?” I ask as I turn towards the phone and give myself some extra breathing room at the same time.  If Brandon gets any closer, I’m going to need to ‘accidentally’ knee him in the nuts.

He seems to get the hint as he steps back to give me more space.

“I like it.” I say as I copy its info. I really hope that my cloning idea will work.

I hold and clone a few more phones under the pretense of honestly appraising my interest in buying one.  I even compliment  one of them for having a slide out keyboard like the Sidekick while not being as bulky as the Sidekick.  After I put the last phone down, I stop, cross my arms and adopt a thoughtful pose, as if to consider my options, but what I really do is try the last phone’s cloned information to see if I can make a call.

>Opening CMDA connection using IMIE 9283019238674...
>Connection Authorized...
>Enter Number:

Yes, Success!

I accidently smile, but at least I don’t jump up and down with excitement like I want too.

“So, did you like one better than another?” Brandon asks, hopeful that my smile means that I want to buy one of the phones he showed me.

I turn to face him and I adopt a slight pout. Nothing too over the top, but just  enough to look and sound truly apologetic. “I’m sorry Brandon. I really liked that Sidekick, but it was just too big and I liked this one.” I say, pointing to the one I just tested my cloning theory with. “But, my contract isn’t due for a few more months and I just can’t handle the fees.  Well, I mean, I can, but my Daddy would kill me if I got a new phone before then.”

Now, if I was still a guy, I am sure that if Brandon had even bothered to ‘help’ me, he would be a little pissed and try to push me into making a purchase.  Also, blaming ‘Daddy’ for my lack of purchasing power would warrant me a cold shoulder and a ‘Dude, you are such a wuss!’ mental telepathy expression. So, I am a little nervous that he is going to make a big deal out of it.  Here it comes.

Brandon smiles at me. “Oh, I’m sorry, Chloe, but waiting is probably better anyway. We have a few phones coming out that I am sure you will love even more.”

“Really?  You’re not mad at me?” I ask, totally surprised by how effective my accidental feminine wiles are working right now.  Maybe it is my glamour too?

He laughs. “Oh, no. Not at all Chloe! I’m just happy that I was able to help and maybe you will be back later to buy one, hopefully from me.” He says.

“Oh, yeah. That would be nice.” I accidently giggle, then blush from embarrassment at having giggled.

Brandon pats his pockets for something and I wonder what he is looking for.  He stops and surprises me by blushing a little when he notices me watching him with confused expression. He recovers his composure and smiles at me. He has a nice smile.

“Sorry, I thought I had some cards on me. Lemme get a new one from the counter.  I’ll be right back.” He says apologetically and heads for the sales counter.

Wait! Hold the phone! What did I just think?

Did I just think that he had a nice smile?  What is up with that?  I have the police, MCO, CIA, FBI and probably a few other three letter agencies trying to kill me right now.  Not only do I not want to think about it, but I don’t have time for this kind of confusion right now! Brandon distracts me from my thoughts by handing me his card.  I glance at it and notice that he scribbled in his personal number.  

“If you have any more questions about our phones, feel free to call me, anytime.” He says smiling at me and loud enough for his manager to hear him not trying to pick me up.

I can’t help it.  Even after I just berate myself for thinking about what I think that I thought about him, I find myself returning his smile. His line was so smooth. “Umm, thanks Brandon. You have been so nice to me.” I say as I hold his card in my hand.  I know that I should put it in my purse, but I am pretty sure that my illusionary purse wouldn’t really hold the card and someone might notice it falling out of or through it.  

I wave at him and once again, I catch myself giving him a little smile and I pay even more attention to my walk as I exit the store.  What is wrong with me? I need to get out of here and call Mr. Reilly!

What if his phone is bugged?  The CIA will be able to trace me and then all the cops, MCO, FBI and who know who else will be able to shoot me. I really don’t want to get shot again. It friggen hurts!  I need to talk to someone whose phone isn’t bugged.  My mom’s phone is out for the same reason as Mr. Reilly and anyone else in the test facility.  Mrs. Townsend and Amanda are out too.  Crap! Do I know anyone else in the area?

>Searching...
>Lord Vincint 804-999-1111 matches’ local area code and prefix.
>Searching Caller ID network database...
>Match found for customer James Stiles

Oh, wow.  I didn’t know that he lived here and I also didn’t realize that I could use the cell network that way to find his real name.  I quickly make the decision to call Lord Vincint instead of Mr. Reilly.  I need to find someplace that I can sit down to make a call and rest my feet at the same time. All this fake high heel walking is killing my feet.  

I spot a bench nearby and make a beeline for it. I can’t remember my feet ever feeling so happy for me to sit down. I catch myself rubbing my calf muscle like I have seen girls do sometimes and now I totally understand why.

I need to call Lord Vincint, but I am pretty sure that a girl sitting on a bench and appearing to be doing nothing would look a little strange. I need something to make it look like I am busy doing something. I need a prop. I know that Chloe carries her cell phone in her purse, but I don’t know if I have an illusionary phone in my purse or not.  I take a quick peek inside my purse and wonder of all wonders, there is an illusionary copy of Chloe’s pink, gem encrusted cell phone in my purse.

Okay, next order of business. Can I take it out of the purse and hold it to make it look like I am using a real phone?  I need it to look like I am texting someone, not talking, because I don’t want anyone to overhear what I will have to say to convince Lord Vincint to help me, if he even can.  I reach into my purse and somehow extract the illusion of a phone from the illusion of a purse.  I feel pretty happy about that, but I manage keep myself from shouting out with joy as I flip open the fake phone and pretend to text while I dial Lord Vincint’s phone number in my head.

I feel extra nervous about cold calling him like this.  What if he doesn’t want to help me? What if he can’t help me? What if he’s not anywhere close to the mall and I get captured before he can get here? What if he just pretends that he will help, but calls the police on me instead?  Crap, why didn’t I think about that before I dialed his number?  

“Hello?” A man’s voice asks.

“Hi, I’m really really sorry to bug you, but is this Lord Vincint?” I ask inside my head so that no one can hear me address my uncle as ‘Lord Vincint’, because that would be real weird.

The line stays silent for a second and I start to worry. “Who is this?” He asks.

“Umm, I know it sounds super paranoid and everything, but I can’t tell you and when you figure it out, please don’t say it, okay?” I ask, feeling and sounding a little more desperate than I intended, but I am operating under the assumption that the CIA is using that mythical Echelon system to scan everyone’s phone calls and find me using my name.

“This had better not be a prank and why shouldn’t I just hang up?” He asks.

“It’s not a prank! You have to believe me, but last week, you told Brenda, I mean Kalisa,  to call you if we needed more help with my, umm, GEO problem.” I finish with a rush to get it out before he hangs up on me.  Now I hope that ‘GEO’ isn’t on their key word list.

“Okay...but if you are who I think that you might be claiming to be, why do you sound like a girl?” He asks.

He sounds a bit less testy and maybe even slightly friendly, but why did he have to bring that little detail up? I mean, I know that he knew that I was really a guy who was playing a female character, but he never treated me any different in GEO for doing that.  There are lots of guys who do that in other games, but now that I think about it; I don’t think that there are as many in GEO. Hmmm, I wonder why.

I sigh.“I was, but that’s kind of a long story.  Right now, I kinda need your help, but I’m not sure if you can or even if you will.”

“Okay, go on.” He says.

“Umm, I kind of got kidnapped by that three letter agency that starts with the letter ‘C’. Well, I think that is who they were, but because of that, I don’t think that I can call the people that could help me right now. I’m not sure if I can trust them to not be bugged or something.”

He doesn’t hang up, but he doesn’t say anything either.  

“So, umm, you wouldn’t happen to be anywhere near the MacArthur Mall right now, would you?” I ask.  

“Yyesss?  I am just down the street at the city courthouse and the trial I was working on just got postponed.  I heard that they are looking for, umm, someone with your name, but I didn’t think anything of it. I doubt that I could just drive up and pick you up without someone noticing.  There are a LOT of officers out there looking for you right now.”  He says.

It sounds like he’s going to say no, but it doesn’t sound like he is going to tell the police where I am at. At least, not this second.

>Alert!
>Enemy radio signatures detected!
>Signatures match CIA agents Michelle Parks and Douglas Laskow.

Crap!  I make a show of rubbing my left calf as I slowly glance around to try and spot them without making it look like I am looking for them. I don’t see them, but as I turn my head, my HUD displays red target brackets around a harmless looking middle aged man and middle aged woman walking together.  The woman appears a little tired and distracted while the man looks very alert as he guides her around by holding her hand like a real couple would. There can only be one reason for them to be here.  They have got to be here to kill me.

“Hello? Are you there?” Lord Vincint asks.

I watch as Doug’s gaze passes right over me, but he doesn’t appear to recognize me at all and with Michelle’s fixed stare, she isn’t even trying to find me. It appears that my disguise has fooled them just like everyone else, but if they are here, then I don’t have much time.  I need to get out of here.  

“Please!  Can you please help me?  I could try walking, but they would be looking for that, I think. I didn’t really do the things they are saying that I did. They shot the cop when they shot me! Honest!” I say, practically begging him with my voice as I furiously pretend to text away on my fake phone to cover for the expression that I am sure is on my face.

“You’ve been shot?” He asks with what sounds like real concern to me.

“Yes, but I seem to be a quick healer.” I say.

“Okay, I can there in a few minutes.” He says after a few seconds of silence.

I sigh with relief. “Really?” I ask trying to not get my hopes too high.

“Yes. Where will you be waiting?” He asks.

“Umm, I dunno? Where is a good place to wait for you?”  

“Hmm, how about the first floor in the parking ramp, near the doors?  There are some benches and people sometimes sit there while they wait for rides.” He says.

I pull up the mall map and plot my course. I am pretty close to the parking garage, so it shouldn’t be a problem. “Okay, that looks good.” I pause and feel a little embarrassed by the need to ask him. “Umm, what is your real name?”

He laughs. “Jim, Jim Stiles.”

“Ahh, okay, umm, Uncle Jim. I’m Chloe, umm, Chloe Stiles, your niece for this quest.”

He laughs at my GEO’ism.

“Sure, Chloe. I will be there in about five to ten minutes, depending on traffic.” He says as I hear the chiming of keys being inserted into a car’s ignition.

“Yes!” I accidentally say out loud as I jump up and laugh with relief, then as I notice a few people smiling at me, I blush and sit back down, abashed at being noticed.  I make a show of closing up my fake phone and putting it back in my purse.  “Great! Thanks umm, Uncle Jim! See you when you get here!” I say, then, I hang up the phone.  

As I stand back up and turn to my right to head towards the parking garage, my HUD flashes an alert as it puts some red target brackets around two men wearing black suits that are walking alertly right down the middle of the hall. They have those little radios in their ears and they are encrypted too, but their frequencies don’t match the CIA’s or the FBI’s.  They match that unidentified frequency I spotted early, which means that they are most likely from the MCO.  They are visually scanning everyone in the crowd and my pause attracts their attention.  They divert course for me.

Crap, crap, crap!

“Excuse us miss?” MCO dude one politely asks.  

“Umm, yes?” I ask, looking at both of them nervously as one of the dudes reach into his suit coat for something.  I hope it’s not a gun or some stun ray thing. That thought, plus their size, black suits and close proximity scares the hell out of me, but it also helps me at the same time.  They inadvertently help me when I am able to listen in on their radios.

[Be advised, the Feds are in the area and making a nuisance of themselves.  The U.S. Government is already attempting to cover this up so don’t be surprised if they try to hassle you.  Just remind them of the MCO’s charter.]

They both pause for that announcement, and then smile at me in an attempt to put me at ease.  It fails.  “Sorry miss.” MCO dude two says without really sounding sorry at all. “But, there is a dangerous mutant on the loose in this area and your cooperation would be appreciated.”

MCO dude one pulls a picture of me out of his jacket pocket and shows it to me. “Have you seen this person?”

I breathe a sigh of relief.  Phew!  I thought for sure that they were going to pull out a gun or something. Okay, what would the real Chloe say?  I don’t think that she would be an airhead about it. She would probably be a little pissed at them for scaring her like that and with that in mind. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

“Thanks a lot.” I say sarcastically. “You just scared me with that Men in Black act. Who are you?” I cross my arms and do my best to glare impatiently at them for interrupting my valuable shopping time.  

They briefly glance at each other with that ‘look’.  I’m not sure if it is the look that says “She knows something.” or if it is the look that says, “We are the MCO, why isn’t she afraid of us?”   I use that time to study my picture while I pretend to not even notice it.  They really didn’t get a good picture of me, but I can’t blame them. I was actively working against them last night.  Hehe.

“Sorry miss.  I am Agent Martinez and this is Agent Dohls, we are from the MCO.” He doesn’t really sound that sorry. “We just need to ask you a few questions, okay?” He asks without really asking.  It is more like an order and that irritates me even more.  

I have never had to deal with the MCO before, but I hate bullies and these two are pushing all my buttons. I roll my eyes at them like Lindsay did to me, far too many times. I think I do a pretty good job too. “Why don’t you go ask someone else?” I ask impatiently.

That makes him a little mad at me. “Look young lady, this mutant is a suspect in the shooting death of a police officer and two DPA agents.  She is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.  Have you seen her or not?  That’s all we need to know.”

I put on my best ‘oh well, whatever’ face and give my picture a quick glance. “Don’t you have a better picture of her?” I ask just to be mean.

“Sorry miss; this is the best that we have.” Agent Martinez shrugs his shoulders. “She is extremely dangerous.” He says

I can’t believe it. I am ‘extremely dangerous’?  Really?

“Nope. Haven’t seen her.” I say dismissively as I open my purse and pretend to try to pull out my cell phone so that I can check the time. I answered their question. They are done with me now, right?

“Miss!” Agent Dohls barks at me with frustration.

I do a little happy dance inside my head while on the outside I move half of a step back with shock that he would address the Chloe Angstrom in such a rude manner. “What?” I ask with a touch of impatience.

“Are you sure that you haven’t seen her? It’s very important that we find her before she kills more innocent people.” Agent Dohls says, laying it on thick there.

“I already said, no. Can I go now? My Uncle, he’s a lawyer by the way, is coming to give me a ride and I really don’t want to keep him waiting.” I say as I tap my foot impatiently and glance down at my cell phone.

Agent Dohls looks like he wants to hit me or something. Did I push him too far? Agent Martinez notices his partners impending blow up and decides hold his hand against his ear to make it look like he’s listening in on his radio. “Wait.”  He nods his head like he just heard something. “Dohls, sounds like the mall security is reporting a possible match in the food court.”

Agent Dohls looks back at me with an expression that is not at all professional. “Thanks for your help miss. Have a nice day.” He says, with thinly disguised contempt for my Chloe’ness as Agent Martinez slides my picture back into his jacket.  They both rush past me, eager to escape from Chloe’s wrath.  

“God damn f’ing spoiled rich bitch. I f’ing hate coming to this mall!”  I hear Agent Dohls mutter to Agent Martinez.

Phew!  I definitely pushed my luck there. I probably shouldn’t have goaded them so much, but they pissed me off. My moment of triumph is suppressed by the alert looking pair of M-16 toting police officers with a huge German Shepherd K-9 dog 20 meters ahead of me and in the direction that I need to go to get to the parking garage to meet Lord Vincint. I mean, Uncle Jim.  

Unfortunately for me, it looks like they noticed me speaking with the MCO MIBs, because they just smile at me as we stroll approach each other.  I decide to not pull a Chloe and draw more attention to myself by gushing over the dog, even though it is absolutely gorgeous and I really want to pet it.  I can’t believe that I just thought that.  I think that my method acting is going just a little too well right now.

Oh crap!  I took care of the blood, but what if that dog is a bomb sniffing dog.  I did fire a gun.  Will he be able to smell the gunpowder on my hands?  I washed my hands, but do I have any gunpowder on my hands or where I got shot?

>Analyzing chemical content...
>Powder residue detected on right hand.
>Amount approximately 11.23 parts per million.

Is that enough for the dog to smell it?  

>Unknown.

Can my nanites clean the gunpowder like they did for my blood?

>Affirmative.

Okay, do that, please, and don’t destroy anything else!

>Affirmative.
>In progress...

The dog perks up as I get closer, but I feel a slight tickling sensation on my hand, then after less than a second, it goes away.

>Complete.

The officers notice the dog’s reaction, but then the dog loses interest in me and looks away.  That initial reaction is enough to get me a second look by the police officers.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” The officer holding the dog’s leash asks.

Crap.

I stop, turn back around and even though my nanites cleaned the gunpowder residue off my hands; I am still a little worried that their dog will be able to smell something funny. With that in mind, I place both of my hands behind my back and smile at them. “Yes?”  I ask as innocently as possible as I glance down toward the dog.  

I didn’t realize it until I looked down, but having my hands behind my back pushes my shoulders out a bit more and exposes more of my, I mean of Chloe’s cleavage.  How embarrassing.  He did address me as a “Ma’am”.  That is still a little weird to hear, but it is better than “Miss”, more respectful sounding.  

“Sorry to bother you ma’am, but I’m Officer Feit from the Norfolk PD and this is my partner, Officer Morken. Do you mind if we ask you what those MCO agents asked you about?” Officer Feit asks as they both approach me and his dog gives me a few sniffs.  Officer Feit is dividing his attention between me and to what his dog is doing.  Crap. His dog is probably going to smell something on me that will give me away.

I can’t worry about that right now though. I just need to continue bluffing my way out of this mall.  What is it about malls and me now?  I never had a problem with malls.  Instead of freaking out like I want to, I giggle and shyly look back toward the direction the MCO jerks walked away before I turn back to answer Officer Feit. “Oh, they just had some picture of that mutant girl that you all are hunting for that they wanted me to look at.  I thought she was pretty, but she really needed to do something about her hairstyle.  It was very out of date.”

They both look at each other with a calculating and irritated expression. “A picture huh? Can you describe what she looked like?”

Hmm, it looks like the MCO isn’t sharing with the local police.  Shame on them!

“Huh? Oh! Sure, sorry. Don’t you all have pictures of her too?” I ask with the sole purpose of twisting the dagger a little deeper.  

The dog stops sniffing me and happily sits down right in front of me. He just looks up at me with a doggy smile and wags his tail a little as I describe myself to them.  It feels so weird to be ratting myself out like that.

“That’s strange...” Officer Feit says as he looks down at his dog.

Oh crap!  The dog has ratted, ummm, doggied me out.  “What?” I ask trying not to freak out.

“Ringo.  He’s normally not so friendly with strangers. I guess he just likes you.” Officer Feit says with a bemused grin.

I don’t have to fake a thing with how relieved I am. “Oh my god!  You scared me there. I thought you were going to say that the dangerous mutant; what is her name anyway? Was right behind me or something!”

They both chuckle at my expense and air headedness. “Whisper.  The suspect’s name is Whisper.”  Officer Feit says.

“Whisper? Really?  Hmm, that’s a strange name. I wonder what it means? Is she just really quiet or can she not talk? Oh, do you think that Ringo will let me pet him?” I say while cringing a little inside. I think that I just sounded a little bit like an airhead right then and that is not what I want to sound like right now. I am Chloe Angstrom and she is not an airhead.  Geez, being Chloe is really hard work.

They don’t bother answering my Whisper questions, but they do laugh at me. “Oh, sure. I think Ringo would like that.  Won’t ya boy?” Officer Feit says to both me and then Ringo.  

Ringo looks up at his master and thumps his tail on the floor a little harder. I take that as the signal that it is okay for me to pet him.  Ringo surprises me and Officer Feit by rolling over so that I can scratch his belly.  I think that I am officially attracting too much attention now.

My cloned phone begins to ring inside my head.  It’s Lord Vincint, I mean Uncle Jim.  Hmm, I stop petting Ringo and look at my illusionary purse.  I need to answer the phone and that would give me the perfect excuse to stop petting Ringo and leave.

“Sorry Ringo, I gotta go. My Uncle Jim is calling. I think he’s waiting for me.” I say as I stand up, reach into the purse, pull out the phone and pretend to answer it.

“Hello, Uncle Jim?”

“Hey, umm, Chloe. I’m just pulling into the lot now. Where are you?” Lord Vincint asks.

“Oh! Already? I’m sorry Uncle Jim. I was on my way, but I ended up talking to some nice policemen and petting Ringo.” I say, giving Officer Feit and Officer Morken an apologetic smile.

“Wait? Did you just say, ‘Ringo’?  The K-9 dog?” Lord Vincint asks with disbelief.

I curiously glance down at the sad looking Ringo. “Umm, yes?”

“And Officer Feit?”

“Yes, why?” I ask feeling a little bit of worry starting to creep in. Why does he know Officer Feit and Ringo?  Officer Feit and Officer Morken are now looking at me with renewed interest.

“I just had them both in court for a drug bust. I was the prosecuting lawyer for the city on that case.” Lord Vincint says.

This just got a lot more complicated.  “Uncle Jim! I didn’t know that you knew Officer Feit and Ringo!  That is so cool!” I say feeling amazed at how small the world really is and how easily all my plans can come crashing down right now.

Officer Morken and Feit both look at each other and mouth, “Uncle Jim?” before they have a light bulb moment.  “Stiles?  You’re Jim Stiles’ niece?” Officer Morken asks, incredulously.

Who knew?

I hold up my hands and giggle.  “Guilty as charged. Sorry, I didn’t know that you all knew each other.” I say.

“Here, we will escort you. We wouldn’t want that Whisper suspect to hurt the niece of Mr. Stiles.”  Officer Morken says.

‘Uncle Jim’ starts laughing inside my head.  “It really is you...I still can’t believe it.”

“No, really, you don’t two don’t have to.  The parking lot is just a little bit that way. I’m sure that I will be fine.” I say in an attempt to convince them to not escort me because that is all I need right now.  

I fail. They attach themselves to my side and guide me towards the parking ramp with Ringo happily leading the way.

“Okay Uncle Jim, be right there!” I say as I fake hanging up my illusionary cell phone and put it back into my illusionary purse. I resist the urge to start singing, “is this a real life...”

They escort me all the way and boy do I attract a lot of attention. Subtle about my exit, I am not, but no one bothers me and even better, no CIA snipers try to kill me either.  I get an extra bonus from the escort when Officer Feit points out ‘Uncle Jim’ for me, which is good because I had no idea what kind of car he drove or even what he looked like.

Oh wow. ‘Uncle Jim’ is driving a nice light blue BMW 550i with what looks like a leather interior.  Sweet! I wonder if I can talk him into letting me drive it?  Okay, probably not going to happen. I don’t even have my license or my permit. I was going to get my permit next week, but I guess that's not going to happen now.

‘Uncle Jim’ surprises me when he gets out of his car, walks around and gallantly opens the passenger side door for me.  I take that as my cue to I rush over to him, give him a hug and be Chloe a little bit more.

“Uncle Jim!  I am so so so glad that you could come pick me!  It was horrible in there!  I couldn’t find anything to buy and then, my daddy couldn’t come get me because he had just got back to his office when I tried to call him.”

If I was really a girl, I’d rate Uncle Jim as handsome.  I mean, I really am a girl, but well, oh, I give up. He has a full head of dark hair with some touches of grey mixed in there.  Just enough to make him look distinguished, but not enough to make him look old.  He looks like he is in his mid-thirties and he keeps himself in shape.  He looks exactly like I expected him to look like. He looks like his GEO character and he looks pretty good in his suit.  Yes, I said it. CIA sniper, kill me now please.

“Oh, it’s okay dear. I’m just glad I could lend my favorite niece a hand and I am glad that Office Feit and Officer Morken were able to help you get out of there safely.” Uncle Jim says with a grateful smile for the two officers.

“Oh, it’s okay sir. I kind of doubt that the suspect is in there anyway, but we gotta check it out, just in case.” Officer Feit says with a grin.

“Well, thanks, but we need to get  moving if we are going to get home anytime soon with all the traffic.” Uncle Jim says as he motions for me to get into the front seat.

Happy to finally be leaving, I smile and wave at the Officers. “Bye Ringo!  Bye Officer Feit and Officer Morken!  Thanks for everything!” I say as I slide myself into the seat, butt first, and then turn to get both my legs in. Just like I would if I was really wearing a dress. Well, I think that is how it works. I’ve never had to do that, but I’ve seen Mom and Lindsay do that move often enough.  I just never really paid that much attention to it, but now I kind of need to for my disguise.

Uncle Jim closes the door and I strap myself in as he says a quick goodbye to the two officers before he joins me in the car.  He sighs as he buckles himself in.  

Ut oh, that was one of those, “Frustrated and I don’t know what I am going to do with you.” sighs or now that I know he’s a lawyer, it could be one of those, “I could get into so much trouble for this.” sighs. Maybe it’s both.

I know that it’s probably the wrong time to think this, but the car is really nice inside.  I’ve never been inside of a BMW and this one has all the bells and whistles.  It even has butt warmers. I hit the button to turn my seat on and before we even get out of the parking garage my butt is feeling nice and toasty. I could really get used to a car like this and I feel myself start to relax for the first time since this crazy adventure began.

Uncle Jim doesn’t say a thing until we make it to the highway.  “So, Chloe?  That’s not your real name, is it?”

“No, it’s Brianna or Brianna Nichole Peters to be more exact.” I softly say. I’m not sure what I am feeling right now. It’s complicated. I’m relaxed and I feel safe, but at the same time, I’m worried about everything. I’m worried about ‘Uncle Jim’ for rescuing me. I’m worried about my mom and what she must be thinking right now. I’m worried about the security guard that Doug shot. I hope that he’s okay.  I’m worried that the MCO or the CIA will somehow find me.

“Okaayy, but I thought you were really a boy and you don’t look anything like I expected you to look like.” Uncle Jim says with a quick sideways glance in my direction before he returns his eyes to the road.

I can’t help it, I giggle at that.  “I’m not exactly what I look like right now either and I was a boy until the accident, but you look exactly like I expected you to look like.” I say, feeling a little frustrated.

“Okay, so what happened?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s kind of a long story and I’m not sure if it is a good idea to get you more involved. It’s kind of Top Secret stuff. It’s kind of one of those, I could tell ya, but then I’d have to kill you type things.” I say.

“Well, we have the time.” He points to the bumper to bumper traffic. “And, I’m already pretty deeply involved. I could get into a lot of trouble and maybe even end up in jail for helping you.”

I look at him and try to figure out what I should tell him.

“And, I have put a lot of criminals in jail.  I really wouldn’t wanna go there as a ‘guest’.” He says with a grin.

“You could just turn me in.” I say quietly.

He pretends to give that idea some thought.  “Yes, yes I could, but then, I wouldn’t find out what really happened.”

I have to laugh at that.  “Fine, I’ll tell you, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

He nods his acceptance as I settle into the warm and comfy leather seat.  “Well, it all started with a field trip to one of DARPA’s Nanotech research labs in Los Alamos...”

I manage to tell the entire story in slightly more than 30 minutes and I manage to only cry once during the whole story. Okay, it was 31.83 minutes. Happy?  I blame the crying bit for the delay and I didn’t really cry. It was more like a sniffle or two.

We still are in traffic, but it looks like things are starting to open up.  “Are we there yet?” I ask with my Chloe impression, but I guess it could be my impression too because I really am wondering if we are ‘there’ yet.  

“Almost.” He says with a smirk.

“Umm, I probably should have asked this sooner, but where are we going?” I ask.

“To my house. Speaking of that, I should probably call my wife and let her know that we will have a guest tonight.  You are staying the night, right?”  He asks.

“Umm, I hadn’t really made any plans. I was just looking to get away from the mall and I wish I could call Mr. Reilly, but with the CIA and everything; his phone is probably tapped.” I say.

“Well, you still can. His phone might not be tapped and even if it is, how are they going to trace you anyway?  From what you just told me, it sounds like your phone isn’t really a phone and it would be pretty hard to track.  Unlike the drug dealers we get the cell companies to help us trace all the time via their active cell phones.  You would think that they would know to turn them off from time to time.”  He says with a chuckle.

“Oh.” That’s all I can say, because when I stop to think about it, how can they? My ‘phone’ is not even registered to me and I’m in a moving car and at the most, all they will get is a blip of my current location. I just need to make the call short, and then delete that number from my system.  With that thought, I dial his number and activate Uncle Jim’s Bluetooth so that he can listen in on the call too.  He’s a bit surprised with he hears the phone ring over his car’s system without him doing anything.

Mr. Reilly’s phone rings only once before he answers it.  “Deputy Director Nicholas Reilly speaking.”

“Hi Mr. Reilly, it’s me. I don’t have a lot of time, but I am safe.”

“Oh my god! Is she okay?!” I hear my mom yell over the phone.

“Go ahead.” Mr. Reilly says.

“It was the CIA, I think. Their CAC ID cards are as follows:” I recite all the information from Michelle’s, Doug’s, Philip’s and John’s card. “Would their pictures help? I can text them to you.”

“Yes, that would be good.” Mr. Reilly says.

“If you can find a secure phone, I am going to Uncle Vincint’s house for dinner tonight.” I say just before I hang up.  Next, I find a good picture of each of them and send them to Mr. Reilly’s number. As soon as I receive confirmation that they were all received, I delete the cloned Sidekick’s information from my mind.  That leaves me with three more cloned phones from the store that I can try, if I need to.

I look over at Uncle Jim. “Am I being too paranoid?”

“I know that you told me, but I just watched you effortlessly hack my car’s Bluetooth.  I’m not sure if you are not being paranoid enough.” He says with a nervous laugh.

“Ya know, that’s not very reassuring. You’re supposed to be that crazy Uncle who knows everything kind of Uncle.” I say.

He copies my tone. “Ya know, I’m not really your Uncle.”

That statement of fact really brings home the fact that I am not home and he’s not really my Uncle.  I start to feel the darn tears well up in my eyes and out they come, again. Darn it!  Why does being a girl make it so bloody easy to start crying?

“Oh, hey. Bree, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make cry. I don’t mind pretending to be your Uncle.” Jim says.

That makes me cry a little harder, if that is even possible. Not only that, but my lack of emotional control makes me start to lose control over my illusionary disguise.  I don’t notice it until my purse disappears, followed by my tennis shoes appearing on my feet.  

Crap!

That’s all I need right now. With my luck, I will lose control just as some cop or nosy driver passes us.

“I’m losing control of my illusion and I need to recast it before someone sees me!” I say looking around to see if anyone else on the road has noticed me.

“Umm, Bree. It’s dark out. I don’t think that you need to worry about it.” He says, pointing out the obvious.  

Well, obvious to him. It still looks almost like daylight to me.  I blink my eyes as I shift my vision into normal human range and boy what a difference that makes. It really is dark outside.  “Oh, okay. I guess that I can just maintain my hair and no one will notice.” I say as I regain total control by letting everything except for Chloe’s blond hair fade away.

“What happened to your shirt?” Uncle Jim asks.  

Yes, I decide to just keep thinking of him as my uncle. It’s just easier that way. “Umm, I told you. I got shot and then my nanites ate the parts that had blood on it.”

“Oh yeah, just didn’t really seem real until I saw it. Oh crap!” He says.

I look around trying to spot the cop or MCO car that must be trying to pull us over. I don’t see anything, but it is dark outside. I switch back to my normal elf vision and I still don’t spot anything. “What?” I ask.

“I forgot to call Julie and we are almost home now.” He says as he starts digging for his phone.

“Car, Call Julie.” I say while using his Bluetooth connection to dial the person listed as ‘Julie Stiles’ on his phone’s contacts list.   

He just sighs and shakes his head.  The phone stops ringing and a woman’s voice comes over his car’s speakers. “Hi, Honey. Are you almost home?” She asks.

“Umm.” He says with a quick glance at me.

“Is something wrong? Are you running late?” She asks.

“No, not exactly.  I’m almost home and I meant to call you sooner, but we will be having a guest tonight for dinner and maybe to spend the night.” Uncle Jim says apologetically.

His mention of dinner reminds me that I haven’t eaten since lunch and I have burned a ton of energy.  I am officially very hungry and my stomach growls, very audibly, much to my embarrassment.

“Oh, that’s okay. Who is he?” Julie asks.

“She, it’s kind of a long story and she is in the car with me.” He says in an effort to stay out of trouble.

“She is?” Julie says, her voice meter in the solid yellows.

I look over at Uncle Jim and try to give him a warning. “Yes, she’s a vegetarian though; will that cause a problem with dinner?” Uncle Jim asks, seemingly oblivious to his impending doom.

“No, not at all dear.” She says, her voice all bright and sunny, but the meter is in the red zone now.  “I can’t wait to hear this story...”

Uncle Jim sighs. “I know, Julie, and I’m sorry to spring this on you like this, but it isn’t what you might think.”

She doesn’t say anything for what seems like five minutes, but it’s really just 3.492 seconds. “Okay, just get home and be safe, will ya?” Julie says. Her voice meter is back in the upper green to lower yellow zone now.  

Phew!  Crisis averted.  I think.  

“I will, thanks and I’m just turning onto Lexington, so, we are about 10 minutes away.”

“Okay, love ya.” Julie says.

“Love you too dear, see ya soon.” Uncle Jim says. Julie, umm, Aunt Julie hangs up the phone on her end and the line goes dead. I don’t have to do anything as his car’s system automatically hangs up his phone for him.

“That was close. Good job with the aggro control there.” I say.

He laughs. “Yeah, maybe I should have let you sneak in and soften her up a bit before I launched my attack?”

I can’t help it. I start giggling.

He sneaks a few glances over at me as I bring my laughter under control.  “You know what?”

“No, what?” I ask, feeling self-conscious over what looks suspiciously like an affectionate expression on his face.

“It’s nice to see you laugh like that and you know that your ‘Aunt Julie’ is a pediatrician, right?” He asks with a mischievous looking grin.

“Umm, not until just now, why?” I ask while wondering where he is going with this line of questioning.

“Well, I know that she was a little upset there on the phone, but I predict that she is going to take one look at you and totally fall in love with her new ‘niece’. Maybe even try to talk you into going with her to the mall to find some replacement clothes for you tonight after dinner.”  He says as his previously mischievous grin turns into something more ominous.

That wipes the happy smile off my face. “What?”