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: 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 36 **

We turn onto the long driveway of a really nice house. It’s not a mansion or anything, but it looks expensive to me. Now, my parents aren’t poor, but our house is very normal looking compared to Uncle Jim’s house.  His house looks very new and it has a three car garage. From the outside, his house looks very open, modern and custom. Not at all cookie-cutter like the houses in my neighborhood. I also notice that his lawn looks perfect and that makes me extra glad that I live in New Mexico because I would hate to have to mow their yard.  It is friggen huge and I hope they have a riding lawnmower or can pay someone to cut it for them in the summer.

As we pull into the garage, I notice a very new Mercedes GL450.  So new that it still has the temporary tags on it. Wow. I really hope that Uncle Jim can adopt me for a few days.  I also notice a weird looking green mower that has levers on each side instead of a steering wheel.  Hmm, that could be kind of fun, too bad it’s not summer.  Maybe I could have earned some extra money by offering to cut their yard.

“Okay Bree, I mean Chloe, can you reactivate your Chloe disguise?  I think it might make our story more credible if she is able to see you change with her own eyes.” Uncle Jim asks as he turns off his car.

“Oh, sure.” I say as I concentrate on being 100% Chloe again.

“Plus, there is still that big manhunt that is going on for you right now.  While I am pretty sure that we don’t have any additional company, I wouldn’t want to take the chance.”

I cast the spell and once again, I feel the magic settle over my body.  This time I did not forget the purse or the sound effects for my shoes.

“Wow.  Seeing magic in GEO when you know it isn’t real is kind of cool, but seeing it done for real is just incredible.” Uncle Jim says.

I can’t help it, I feel myself blush from his praise and I have to admit that it is pretty cool, but once again, I wish that I didn’t have to get turned into a girl to have cool magical powers.  

While I am opening my door, Uncle Jim surprises me again by racing over to the passenger side and helping me out of the car.  That causes me to blush some more.  “Thanks, but you didn’t really have to do that for me.” I say.

“I know.” He says with a smirk.

I struggle to come up with more reasons why he didn’t need to help me, while at the same time, I find that for some reason, I kind of like it.  It actually helps me find my inner ‘Chloe’ and get back into character.  I am not looking forward to facing his wife and the more armor I can wrap myself in, the better.

Uncle Jim leads me into the house by opening the door and holding it open for me. “Here we go.”

My high heel sound effects made some noise on the concrete floor of the garage, but they make a very definite clicking sound on the tiled entry way.  I cringe at how loud they sound to my ears.  His home smells clean, new and yummy.  I mean, the smell of fresh cooked food coming from somewhere in the house smells yummy to my nose and that makes my stomach growl once more.

Uncle Jim removes his shoes at the door. “Honey!  I’m home!” He yells.

Crap, now I am going to need to tweak the illusion to remove my shoes.  

He notices my concerned expression as I look down from his feet to my feet. “You can just leave them on for now.”  He says.

>Alert!
>Unidentified enemy female target detected!

My targeting system paints a pair of red brackets around a tall blond haired woman as she turns the corner.  Well, taller than me.  My system helpfully supplies me with all of her stats and measurements, but I don’t really need to know that she is exactly 3.89 inches taller than me to feel a little vulnerable. It did identify her as an ‘enemy’, I just entered her den with her husband and based on the phone conversation, I expect her to maul me at any second.  She doesn’t look ‘that’ tough. I think that I can take her.  

That’s what I try to tell myself, but I am frozen into inaction. I don’t know how to handle this kind of situation.  This is just not a scenario that has ever crossed my mind as a possibility.  Jealous boyfriend mad at me for looking at or stealing his girlfriend, yes, but jealous wife mad at me for looking at or stealing her husband, heck no!

“Julie, I am sorry that I didn’t call you sooner, but this is our ‘niece’, Chloe.” Uncle Jim reaches over and gently pulls me forward by steering me by my shoulders.  “Chloe, this is my wife, Julie.” He says.

It does not escape my notice that he calls me by my newest alias and now I am kind of wishing I had came up with a better name.  I just don’t feel like a ‘Chloe’, although, I don’t really feel like a Brianna either so I guess one more new name is not much of a difference.  “Hi!” I manage to squeak out as my brilliant reply.

I find Julie’s, umm Mrs. Stiles’ expression hard to read as she studies me for a second before she glances back up and past me to her husband’s face.  I can’t tell if she is pissed or not. Her expression shifts to concern as she rushes forward.  

Now I am really stuck and I don’t know how to respond.  It doesn’t look like she is trying to attack me, but it also doesn’t look like she is trying to give her husband a hug.  I am kind of in the way for the hug her husband scenario.  

>Option A: Attack
>Option B: Retreat
>Option C: Panic
>Option D: Other

I can’t decide. I am pretty sure that A is bad, while B is not an option either. I think that I am already doing option C, which confuses me about option D.  What is “Other”?  It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does, when she grabs my hands.

“Oh, you poor dear!  You look positively terrified.” She quickly steals a glance back at Uncle Jim before turning back to look at me. “Did you run into that Whisper person that they are talking about in the news? Is that why Jim brought you home?  Are you a witness? Is that why Jim called you our ‘niece’?” Mrs. Stiles asks, while she gently, but firmly pulls me down the short hall, away from the relative safety of Uncle Jim and into a large open space that appears to be the living room.  

She directs me to sit beside her a comfy looking tan suede fabric couch, I turn to look back at Uncle Jim and he just gives me the look that says, “Go with it, for now.” I glance back at Mrs. Stiles and my attention is diverted by the live news report that is playing on a large LCD or Plasma TV mounted above a gas fireplace.  The TV is muted, but it looks like they are talking about me.

Mrs. Stiles notices my gauze. “Oh, here.  Let me turn that thing off. It is probably pretty alarming for you anyway.” She says as she reaches for the remote that is sitting on a side table next to us.

“No!” I accidentally yell, then blush from the shame and lower my voice. “Umm, sorry, but can you turn it up instead? I kind of want to know what they are saying about this, umm, Whisper person.”

Mrs. Stiles glances back to Uncle Jim, which is starting to confuse me a bit because I am thinking of Mr. Stiles as Uncle Jim, but her as Mrs. Stiles. I just don’t feel comfortable calling her by her first name. She is an adult, but I also don’t feel comfortable thinking of her as Aunt Julie either.  Uncle Jim looks interested in finding out what they are saying about me too. He nods his head yes.

The sound on the TV comes to life with voice of a stereotypical square jawed and ruggedly handsome anchorman who is paired with a petite and pretty blond anchorwoman. “...FBI officials are reporting that the suspect in the deadly shooting rampage that was reported to have left one off-duty police officer and two DPA agents dead might not be who they are looking for.”

“The suspect known only as ‘Whisper’, seen here in this photo helpfully supplied by the MCO, made the news last night during a seemingly random attack by the mutant hate group known as Humanity First.  This station is still trying to uncover the details surrounding that attack, but so far the FBI has been unwilling to release any information due to it being a ‘pending investigation.’” The male anchorman says with some skepticism, with the ‘pending investigation’ part of the story.

All the ‘suspect’ and ‘reported’ connotations are starting to annoy me.  He is talking like he doesn’t really believe the words. I imagine that he is really thinking ‘guilty as sin mutant criminal’ when he uses the word ‘suspect’.

The blond anchorwoman takes over the story. “However; The FBI has issued an update regarding the newest incident that may or may not involve this unknown mutant known only as ‘Whisper’ by stating that the off-duty police officer initially reported as dead, is actually alive. However; he is currently listed in critical, but stable condition at Norfolk General Hospital.  Additionally, the head of the DPA has issued a statement indicating that after a careful audit of all of their agents, they have no DPA agents in the area.  The DPA appears to be as mystified as the FBI and the local police as to who the rumored DPA agents are that initially reported the attack and who the DPA agents that we reported killed by this Whisper suspect could be. More on this breaking story during our ten o’clock news hour.”

“Next up, is your trash being illegally dumped in the ocean?”

Mrs. Stiles catches our mutual glances. “Jim, what’s going on?” She asks.

>Incoming GSM Signal for device: James Stiles <804-999-1111> from Unknown <Unknown>

His phone begins to softly vibrate, but it looks like he is going to ignore it to respond to his wife.  “Umm, Uncle Jim?” I say, cringing a little at myself for using that name while I notice Mrs. Stiles’ shocked expression. “You probably should answer that one.”

He turns back to look at me with a surprised expression. “I don’t know, but it is probably Mr. Reilly using a secure phone or something.” I whisper as he pulls out his phone and fumbles it a little in his haste to answer it before it stops ringing.

Mrs. Stiles looks back and forth between the two of us with even more alarm. “Jim?”

“Hello?” Uncle Jim cautiously says with a apologetic glance at his wife before he turns to look at me.

Of course, I listen in on the call.  

“Is this James Stiles?” I hear Mr. Reilly’s voice ask.

Is that really Mr. Reilly?

>Analyzing Voice...
>Voice Match for Nicholas Reilly = 93.322%

Okay, so it sounds like him and it most likely is him, but it could be the CIA pretending to be him.  “Mr. Reilly, 93.3 percent match.” I whisper and shrug my shoulders.

Uncle Jim gives me a slight nod. “Yes, why? Who is this?” He asks, sounding a little cautious.

“Sorry, DARPA Deputy Director Nicholas Reilly speaking, but before we get into the introductions, I would like to personally thank you for assisting us with both Whisper’s medical investigation and now, her latest, umm, adventure.”  

>Voice Match for Nicholas Reilly = 99.783%

I tense up with excitement and smile. “Yep! Mr. Reilly, 99.8 percent match.” I whisper, automatically rounding up to the nearest 10th. My math teacher would be so proud.

“Well, I am glad that I could help, sir.” Uncle Jim says.

“You didn’t have to, but we are all very glad that you did.” Mr. Reilly says.

Mrs. Stiles looks startled at Uncle Jim referring to someone as ‘sir’.  “Jim!  What is going on?” She asks with an increased level of urgency as she looks back and forth between the two of us with confusion.

Mrs. Stiles is totally out of the loop and based on her expression, she doesn’t appear to be too happy about that. I look over at the TV.  I think that I could connect to the TV’s speakers and route the audio to that so Mrs. Stiles can listen in, but that might end up being too loud.  I spot an expensive looking cordless phone on a nearby end-table. I hold up my hand to signal Mrs. Stiles to wait a second as I walk over to their home phone. As soon as I touch the phone, I match frequencies and remove it from its cradle. Then, I tell it to receive the active call and I rebroadcast the current call to it.  Satisfied with my results, I race back over and hand her the phone.

“...and with me, I have General Evans, Admiral Jensen, Captain Howards, Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Townsend.”

I am a little startled that Mr. Reilly has an Admiral there and that he names Captain Howards instead of calling him Mr. Smith, but I guess there is no reason for the secrecy with him now and “Mr. Smith” as a name sounds so fake anyway.  I know that Captain Howards is a Navy SEAL, but what is an Admiral doing there?  Is that Captain Howards’ boss?

Mrs. Stiles looks more confused than angry and upset now. “What is going on?” She asks with her hand over her phone’s microphone.

“Umm, it’s Mr. Reilly, my Mom and, umm, some other people.” I softly whisper to her, but I don’t think that my explanation helps her.

Mr. Reilly starts off by getting directly to business by outlining the problems that  my kidnapping has caused and that someone in the CIA has made worse. Well, I think he mostly blames the CIA and not me, but I still feel somewhat guilty about it.  I shouldn’t have let Michelle lead me out of the lobby.  There were so many red flags that I ignored until it was too late.

He also hints at, but does not let slip the fact that the freaking President of the United States of America is involved in this too. He just says, “Some people in Washington”, but Uncle Jim already heard the story from me, so he gets the reference.

“Okay sir. What can we do to help?” Uncle Jim says after a slight pause while he studies his anxious looking wife.

“Actually, you already are helping.  However; I need to ask another favor of you.” Mr. Reilly says.

“Okay. If we can...” Uncle Jim says conditionally and that starts to make me worry.

“I won’t sugar coat the situation. It could be risky to you and your wife, but the folks in DC need a few days to clean house here and after discussing it, we feel that Whisper would be safer with you than anyone else right now.  You are 100% under the radar and completely unknown to anyone outside of this room, but would you be willing to host Whisper until Friday evening or Saturday morning?”

Uncle Jim looks over at his wife.  She glances over at me and reads my desperate expression. I would love nothing better than to be with my mom and Mr. Reilly right now, but if they all feel that I would be safer here with Uncle Jim, then I want to stay here. She thinks about it for a brief second before she nods her acceptance before looking back at Uncle Jim. “Yes.” She says, simply.

“Yes sir, that would be fine with my wife and me. Is there anything else that I can do?” Uncle Jim asks.

“No more than you already are, Mr. Stiles, and I think that just about covers everything.  Does anyone else have any additional agenda items that we should discuss?  General Evans? Admiral Jensen? No? Okay, Mrs. Peters, as a parent of a ‘gifted’ daughter myself, I know that this is difficult for you, but is there anything that you would like to say to her before we end this call?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Umm, yes.  I love you sweetie and I am glad that you are safe!” My mom yells over the speakerphone.

“I love you too, Mom.” I say as my voice breaks from the tears that start to well up in my eyes.

“Now, I expect you to be on your best behavior and listen to Mr. and Mrs. Stiles. Oh yeah, and stay out of trouble, no malls! Please?” My mom says with a note of humor in her last instruction.       

“Yes, Mom. I will. I love you.” I say with a laugh and a sniffle. I can count on my mom to both comfort and order me around in a predictable parental fashion.  Mrs. Stiles gives my shoulders another squeeze.

“Love you, see you soon.” My mom says in a rush just before the line goes silent and we are disconnected.

“Well, that is certainly not what I expected when Jim said that he was bringing a female guest to our house tonight.” Mrs. Stiles says with a mischievous quirk of her lips.

“Umm, sorry, Mrs. Stiles.” I say.

She pats my hand reassuringly before she stands up, walks over to her husband and gives him a hug and a kiss.  “Now, dinner is ready. Let’s eat. I think that we can break the ‘no business’ rule during dinner this one time and discuss all this...” She waves her hands around with a gesture that indicates everything. “...while we eat. Right, Uncle Jim, dear?”  She asks, looking at Uncle Jim with a smug expression.

“Of course, Jewels.” He says with a nervous glance at me.  
 

**

The Whisper operation was supposed to be a relatively simple snatch and grab, tag and release operation. Yes, it was technically illegal for the CIA to perform an active operation on CONUS soil and even more so, against a DOD facility, but the CIA was used to bending the rules when needed.  His team had performed many successful operations against far harder targets in the past. Plus, all those terrorists in Gitmo and valuable intelligence leads didn’t happen by following the law.  The law was meant to help the innocent, not the guilty.

The only part that went according to plan was the first part.  The target should not have been able shake off the sedative effects so quickly.  Their ‘borrowed’ test data indicated that the sedative should have been more than adequate to keep the target safely unconscious for at least six hours.  Even with that SNAFU, his operatives were highly skilled and very competent. Yes, the target had some enhanced physical abilities, but she should not have been able to escape and evade his operatives so easily.

Based on Mirage’s reports, it had to have been magic that she used to escape, but she had only tested out as a one with her wizard rating. She was untrained and with that rating, the target should be barely able to light a candle without a match. How had she been able to confuse and misdirect his agents so easily?

Director Falk surprised himself by not feeling surprised when two Internal Affairs agents opened the door and entered his office unannounced.  He spotted at least four more agents standing outside his door handling the rest of his staff.  “Director Falk. Your presence is requested in Deputy Director Adamson’s office immediately.”

He wondered how his operation had been compromised.  Did his Deputy turn him into IA?  As he was escorted out of his office, he spotted his deputy being questioned by IA and he did not look happy about it.  So, it probably wasn’t him.  Did his operatives turn themselves in and finger him?  He also doubted that because they were still in the field and not in contact with anyone.  Did his NSA contact get caught and raise suspicions by pointing to him or did the target somehow hack into the CIA?

He mulled over the scenarios as he was escorted through the halls and rode up the elevator to the ‘executive’ floor.  If the target had hacked into the CIA and exposed him, then that would actually be the best for his case against her.  If his NSA contact had fingered him, then he could simply explain it away by saying that he saw her on the news and was curious.  Just performing his due diligence in the interest of National Security.

Well, except that IA was questioning his deputy and it was highly unlikely that his deputy wouldn’t tell them everything that he knew.  

Crap.  I guess I will just have to offer the CIA my resignation and retire a few years early. Joannie will probably like that anyway. I do owe her a few vacations, real vacations, not working vacations.

CIA Deputy Director Adamson’s expression was set in stone as Falk entered his office. Adamson nodded and with that cue, the two IA Agents escorting him silently turned, exited the office and silently closed the door behind themselves.

Adamson sighed, leaned back in his chair and directed Falk to one of the chairs setup in front of his desk.  “This probably isn’t going to take that long, but go ahead and sit, please.”

As ordered, Falk walked over and sat down. He noticed that there was a single sheet of paper lying directly in front of Adamson and that was the only bit of stationary on his desk. It looked like a standard resignation form.

Adamson leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. “Brian, I don’t think that I need to tell you that you royally stepped on your dick by authorizing this op, do I?” Adamson said getting right to the point.

“No sir.”

“Your record is excellent. You were a good field agent and a great Operations Director, but I am afraid that I am going to have to request your resignation.”

“Yes sir, I understand and I just want to go on record and state that my Deputy advised me against this operation, but I overruled him.”

“That is admirable and I will make a note of it, but why did you go ahead and do it?”

“Based on the data and my past experiences with the PALM AI task force and a similar individual, it was and still is my opinion that this Whisper girl could be a grave risk to our nation’s National Security.  She needs to be evaluated by a trusted third party.  Someone who knows what to look for and  is not corruptible or easily influenced into hiding or covering up the results.”

“I see. I will make a note of that and pass it on to the Director. Well, here is your letter.” Adamson said as he slid the letter forward for Falk to sign.

Falk quickly read it and it appeared to be the standard letter.  No hidden or tricky legalize ticked away between other sentences.  He signed it using Adamson’s own fancy gold pen that had been conveniently placed on his side of the desk, just for that purpose.

“Thank you, Brian, for reacting so professionally about this.” Adamson said with a relieved smile.

“No problem sir, I’ve been around long enough. I know how it works.” Falk said. He knew that The President only had another year and a half in office and that with his record he could always work as a consultant until the CIA could quietly reinstate him after the political situation changed.

“Your personal items will be boxed and delivered to your home as soon as our investigation is complete.  I will take your badge now and provide you with an escort to your vehicle. Also, please consider this your official notice to not try to leave the country or we will have to have you detained and I think we both know what that means, right?”

“Yes, sir.”  Former Operations Director Falk said as the blood drained from his face when the hidden implications sank in.  He had just been given his burn notice. There would be no consulting options available to him. No one would want to touch him.  The only way he could get rid of a burn notice was to figure out some way of redeeming himself.  He knew that Whisper was a danger, but now it looked like it was up to him to find a way to prove it.
 

**

Dinner with the Stiles proves to be somewhat of a relief for me.  Not only is the food good, but Mrs. Stiles, I mean, Aunt Julie, as she insists that I call her since that is my ‘cover’ to use secret agent terms, cooked a salmon filet just for me so that I wouldn’t feel left out while they ate what looked like some delicious stuffed pork chops.  The salmon was delish, but I really miss my old taste buds.

It takes a bit longer than 30 minutes for me to repeat my story and bring Aunt Julie up to date.  It takes longer this time because I am eating, but also because when I tell her that I got shot in the back only two hours ago, she insists on giving me an examination. She raises a skeptical eyebrow when I try to tell her that  my latissimus dorsi thing, as well as my kidney and small intestine are 100% healed, but the doctor in her will not accept that as an answer.

That adds even more time to my story since I have to drop my Chloe illusion in order for her to even see where I was shot at.  Uncle Jim is only a little surprised to see me 100% in the flesh, but Aunt Julie is positively stunned.  I don’t think that she really believed me when I said that I can do magic on myself and maybe other people.  

However, Aunt Julie quickly recovers, grabs a small medical bag, complete with a cold stethoscope, and marches me into the bathroom so that she can examine me in private.  She gasps at the sight of the huge hole that my nanites ate when they tried to clean my clothes. Even though there isn’t much left of my top in the back, she still makes me remove it so that she can examine my back.  Of course, she doesn’t find anything wrong with me.  She does find a reason to listen to my heart and lungs with the freezing cold stethoscope.  I know that she pulled her bag out of a closet and not the freezer, but I think Uncle Jim needs to check that closet’s ventilation or something.

Reluctantly, she concludes that I am healthy, but she insists that I wait in the bathroom while she retrieves me a spare top from her closet. She returns with an iridescent dark green silk spaghetti strap camisole that I think is kind of a pretty color. It should go well with my eyes and complexion.

Pretty? Eyes and complexion match? Did I really just think that?  That’s it! I am deleting Amanda’s wicked, evil magazine the first chance I get tonight!

“Sorry, but this is the only thing that I have that might not be too big for you and made of silk.  It was one of my favorite tops when I was in high school and it was what I wore on my first date with Jim, but I guess it shrunk, or something.” Aunt Julie says with a wry grin.

Her explanation startles me and distracts me from my evil girlish fashion thoughts. Her top is old, like over 10 years, but it still looks new.  She must really like this top.  “Oh, no! Aunt Julie, I can’t wear that.  I am not doing that well with my clothes lately. What happens if I wreck it?” I ask.

She laughs. “Oh, don’t worry about that Chloe. I can’t wear it and I have other things to remember him with now.  It’s just a top.”

Reluctantly, I try it on and it is still a size too large for me, but with the straps adjusted and the bottom tucked into my jeans, it is hard to tell. I do notice that my bra straps are showing and I also recall how much I noticed it when any part of a girl’s bra showed.  For me and all the guys, it was like seeing a glimpse of the forbidden fruit, melons to be exact, and we loved to try to guess the color and style of her panties based on her bra color.

However; I am pretty sure that we would never have guessed that a girl might not be wearing any panties. Wow! That would have really blown our minds and added an entirely new dimension to our little guessing game.  I look down at my bra and I can’t help it, I grin and even worse, I think that from now on, when I see another girl wearing a black bra; I am going to accidentally wonder if she is wearing panties or not.

“Yes, my old top looks pretty nice on you, but why aren’t you wearing any underwear?” Aunt Julie asks, misinterpreting my grin and distracting me from my bra concerns.

I feel myself blushing pretty hard due to my previous thoughts and I am glad that she’s not my mom.  That would have been totally embarrassing. “Umm, I haven’t made it to that part of the story yet and is it okay that my bra straps are showing?” I ask deflecting her from my missing panties problem.

Aunt Julie sees right through my redirection and shows that with a slight pause. “It’s fine dear, but normally you would want to wear a strapless bra for support or a light sweater to cover the straps when you wear that kind of top.”

“Oh, okay.” I say, feeling a little bewildered by all the rules for girl clothes. Why do boobs have to cause so much trouble?

Uncle Jim doesn’t say a word about my lack of a disguise or the fact that I am wearing Aunt Julie’s favorite old top from their first date when we finally rejoin him at the table. He doesn’t even seem to notice the fact that my bra straps are showing.  Maybe old guys don’t notice those things like I did when I was younger. Umm, you know, like last week.  Not that Uncle Jim is really ‘that’ old, but he is at least 34 and that is kind of old.

I am able to finish my story and two more servings of Aunt Julie’s excellent salad with feta cheese, but by the time we finish dinner it is 1930 hrs, umm, 7:30pm and Uncle Jim is starting to look a little bored. Which seems strange to me because my day has been anything but boring for me. However, he keeps glancing at the clock.  Aunt Julie doesn’t seem to notice his nervous behavior, but then it hits me.  Tuesday night is raid night and the raid was due to have started 30 minutes ago.  He is late and he is the guild leader.

“Umm, Aunt Julie?” I ask.

“Yes, Chloe?” She asks.

My cover name is very strange to hear and respond too, but it is starting to get easier since both Uncle Jim and Aunt Julie have been using that name almost exclusively for me. It is like my story about Whisper, Brian and Brianna is Chloe’s story and not my own, very strange. “What time do the stores close?” I ask while knowing the answer already.  2100 hrs is pretty standard, but Virginia might have stores that close at 2000 hrs.

“Oh!  I need to get you some essentials!  Thanks for the reminder!” She says as she jumps up, grabs her purse and a notepad.  “I wish you could join me, but for now, what are your sizes?”

She quickly writes them down as I recite them for her. Then, in a rush, she grabs her purse, gives me a quick hug and after giving Uncle Jim a slightly longer quick hug and a borderline mushy kiss, she runs out of the door. As soon we hear the garage door close, Uncle Jim and I look at each other with that “What now?” expression.

“Raid?” I ask.

Uncle Jim’s eyes light up as he smiles at me. “Thanks, you don’t mind do you?”

“Nope.” I say, shaking my head slowly back and forth a few times.

“Well, I expect your ‘Aunt’ to not be back until well after 9 and loaded down with bags of clothes for you.”  He grins at me as my expression falters with his ‘bags of clothes’ assessment. “Hmmm, you know? I did load GEO on her laptop in an effort to get her to try the game.  You could play.  Maybe just to see if your character is still alive.”

I hesitate at his offer.  I am very curious to see if Whisper is still alive, but on the other hand, I am also very afraid to even touch a computer that is running or has run GEO.  “Umm, no thanks. Can I watch you instead? Maybe from across the room or something?”
 

**

Julie Stiles felt pretty pleased with herself. Her emergency shopping trip for Chloe was a success and she could not wait to get back home. Since she knew that Jim would not be able to take tomorrow off, or probably any time at all this week, she had already called her hospital’s patient scheduling service and had them cancel her appointments for the rest of this week.  Unfortunately, she still had to go in tomorrow afternoon for a quick visit to some of her more critically ill patients and it would mean more work next week to catch up her schedule with the canceled appointments from this week, but she felt that Chloe was worth it.  The poor girl has had such a rough last few days.  

Medically, she wasn’t sure if she could believe some of Chloe’s claims regarding her gender, race and the nanites, but she also didn’t really believe in magic until she saw her remove her illusionary disguise. She had seen magical super-heroes in the movies and even in the news, so she knew that magic existed, but she had never actually seen magic happen right in front of her eyes. Chloe’s little demonstration was a shocking and amazing at the same time.

The nano-technology was another thing that she had trouble believing, but the idea of what they could accomplish did excite and fascinate her though. The research into using nano scale particles in medicine was just starting to heat up and nano scale medicines showed a lot of potential, but the scale and sophistication of the nanites in Chloe’s system just seemed a bit too hard to believe.  While what Chloe described sounded possible, in the future; today, it sounded too much like science fiction to her.  

Chloe did seem a little more self conscious about her body than most girls her age.  In the four years that she has been a licensed pediatrician, Julie has examined hundreds of pre and post pubescent girls Chloe’s age and none of them acted as self-conscious and shy about their body as Chloe did.  Nor did girls her age need to ask if it was okay if their bra strap showed or not. Most girls her age would be proud to have a body and pair of breasts like Chloe, but Chloe just acted embarrassed and uncomfortable about herself the entire time that she examined her.

Julie made a mental note to herself to speak with some of her colleagues at the hospital to learn more about mutants, a BIT and if it was even possible to change genders as completely and as rapidly as Chloe claimed.  She knew that it was possible, due to hormonal imbalances, for boys to develop secondary female sexually characteristics, but she had never heard of primary sexual characteristic development post gestation.

During a brief lull in her shopping, Julie decided to call her sister-in-law, Karen. She knew that, as smart  an attorney as Jim was, it was a raid night in his game and his brain turned to mush on those nights.  So, she took it upon herself to call Karen and get her in on her ‘daughter’ Chloe’s cover. That way, if someone tried calling to ask how John and Karen’s daughter Chloe was doing; they would know how to respond.  Karen sounded excited to be helping out and assured her that she would talk to her husband, John, about Chloe.  Karen did ask what her ‘daughter’s’ middle name was and Julie wasn’t able to tell her.  So, between the two of them they decided that Chloe Jessica Stiles would be her name after rejecting ‘Amber’, ‘Lisa’ and ‘Ann’ in favor of being named after Karen’s mother.  Not once did she even mention to Karen that Chloe wasn’t Brianna’s real name.  One, that was information that Karen didn’t really need to know and two, Julie was so used to thinking of Brianna as Chloe, that Chloe just felt like it was the poor girl’s real name.

With that bit of skullduggery out of the way, Julie was able to dive into shopping for Chloe, but she had so much fun talking to her sister-in-law about girl names.  It almost felt like she was picking out a name for a baby.  She frowned a little at that thought.  It is not that she and Jim didn’t want to have a child of their own; they were both just too busy to raise a child.  Between finishing med school for her and law school for Jim, then building their careers and their home; they just decided that they didn’t have the time.  Sure, they talked about it every year or two, but always decided to put it off for another year.  Maybe she would have to bring the subject up and push Jim a little harder this year.  Neither one of them were getting any younger.

Shopping for complete sets of clothes for a girl had been a lot of fun and that experience just reinforced her decision to talk to Jim.  It kind of felt like she was shopping for her own daughter instead of a guest. It had been a little harder than she expected to find clothing made from natural fibers in Chloe’s size, but she had done it and it had only set her back a little over $800.  Fortunately, her normal stores were all high-end enough to carry the more ‘environmentally friendly’ brands.  Sadly, those brands were not cheaper, but Chloe didn’t really need a full closet.  She was only going to stay for a few days.

With that in mind, Julie found Chloe a pair of ankle boots with a two inch heel and that was only because she had mentioned how much she liked them in her story. She also bought her one pair of all purpose black pumps with a simple and sturdy two inch heel, a set of simple two piece cotton pajamas, slippers for walking around the house in, a half-dozen silk panties, none of them pink or overly frilly, two new bras plus one demi-bra, a few tops, two pairs of jeans, a medium length skirt, just in case, and two pairs of black leggings to go with the skirt. The leggings were 94% cotton, 6% spandex, so she hoped that they wouldn’t trigger an allergic reaction for her. Tights would have been better with the skirt, but finding natural fiber tights proved to be too difficult within the time constraints. Plus, with Chloe’s history, the skirt concerned her, but it was too good  a deal to pass up and she thought that it would look very cute on her.  

She wanted to get her a modest one piece swim suit, but once again, natural fibers were hard to find in swimwear. However, she did find Chloe a cute Tahiti green two piece 100% cotton bikini, just in case she wanted to use the Jacuzzi. With all the power shopping she just did, she hoped that Chloe would want to join her for a relaxing dip when she got home. Jim probably jumped into his office to play the game before she even made it out of the driveway and he probably didn’t even show Chloe around the house like a good host should.

As she walked to her car, multiple high-end store logo bags in hand, she sighed with frustration.

Men!

As she got close enough to her car for her remote to unlock the doors, she noticed that there was an older teenager, maybe young 20 year old man in sort of scruffy clothes angling toward her with an intense look in his eyes.  He kind of scared her. So, she picked up her pace and rushed the remaining 20 or so feet to reach the safety of her car.

[HONK!]

“Ahh!” She screamed just as she reached for her door handle.  She was so focused on opening it, jumping in and locking it behind her that she never noticed the new black mustang with a Department of Defense sticker on the windshield that stopped behind her car.

“Sorry ma’am!” The male driver yelled out his rapidly opening window. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but do you mind if I grab your spot when you pull out?”

Julie found herself giggle with relief.  She glanced over at the man who was following her to find that he had turned around and was heading away as rapidly as possible without making it look too obvious.  

Phew, that was close!

She turned back to the gentleman in the mustang. “Sure, sorry. Lemme just put my bags in and I will pull right out for you!”

“Thanks ma’am!  Oh, wait!  I think I see an open spot over there!” He said before he lightly gunned his car’s motor and jetted over to an open space that was even closer to the mall entrance.  

As she drove past them, Julie couldn’t help smiling at and waving to the two men who were obviously in the military as they exited their car and walked toward the mall’s entrance.
 

**

MCO Special Lainer was not happy.  This was the second time that the DoD’s pet mutant slipped away from him, but this time; he didn’t even have a photo or reliable eyewitness account to prove that she was even in the same time zone. For that matter, according to the U.S. Government, Whisper didn’t even exist and he might have started to believe that himself, if that prick, DARPA Deputy Director Nicholas Reilly hadn’t stopped him taking her into ‘protective custody’ by producing a MMID card for the girl.  

He had to admit though, as soon as he reported the H1! incident to his superiors and mentioned the fact that Nicholas Reilly was involved, shit started happening.  So, he figured that this Mr. Reilly guy must have pissed off someone pretty high up in the MCO chain of command once or twice before.  He had the full weight and support of the MCO behind his investigation of this Whisper mutant.

Unfortunately, even with that support, all he had now were the statements given to the police by two DPA agents who might not even be DPA agents.  No one knew one way or the other and the DPA steadfastly denied even having any agents in the area. He smelled a rat though. Something happened in Norfolk tonight. If it was nothing, then why were the FBI, CIA, DPA, DHS and the DOD, just to name a few, all in a tizzy? Why did the FBI pay so much attention to the MCO’s search and investigation of the mall?  

The mall had security cameras!  That was it!  He made a few calls and discovered that even though the Feds had already carted off the day’s feed, the mall security office had backups available and even better; their head of security was rightfully worried about the mutant threat and he was more than willing to let his agents make an unofficial copy of them.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the copies to arrive at his office, then spend the hours poring over the footage in the hopes that something would jump out at him that would give him a lead.  He didn’t care how long it took. He was positive that he would find something on the footage that would lead him to Whisper.
 

**

I sit off to the side and watch with a surprising amount of envy as Uncle Jim starts up GEO and logs into his account.  When he gets to the character selection screen, I am also surprised to discover that he has a low level cleric alt with a female name, but he clicks right into Lord Vincint without ever selecting her. So, I don’t know what she looks like, but now I am curious.

“You made a cleric alt and it let you?” I ask, bypassing the gender question to get to the heart of the matter.  GEO is really good about limiting your options to professions that match your personality and Uncle Jim’s paladin character, Lord Vincint, seems to match Uncle Jim perfectly.  So how was he able to make a cleric?  Clerics heal and while Lord Vincint is a paladin and can do some healing, Paladins are more warrior based and seem to fit his personality better.

While Lord Vincint loads, Uncle Jim turns his head to face me. “That was Julie’s character, from when I tried to get her to play.” He says.

“Oh.” I say because there isn’t much else I can think to say as a reply.  I think that it is kind of cool that Aunt Julie even tried to play GEO.  My parents and Lindsay never even bothered trying to like the game.

I shift to my magical sight to distract me from my envy and I watch as the game somehow creates a tiny magical link to Uncle Jim via his mouse.  It is barely even noticeable and I probably wouldn’t have even spotted it if I didn’t know to look for it. As I lean in to examine his mouse a little closer, a tiny tendril of magical energy that is barely the size of a hair separates from his mouse and starts to move in my direction.

“Holy shit!” I say with a gasp as I jump back a few feet.

“What? What is it?” Uncle Jim asks as he pushes his chair back, stands up and looks around trying to spot what spooked me.

I point down to his desk. “Your mouse, when you logged into GEO, your mouse started to, umm, glow a little from some sort of magic.”

“Huh?” Uncle Jim asks as he looks down at his innocent looking mouse with concern and confusion.

“Umm, yeah, when they investigated my problem back at the lab, they noticed that Brenda’s computer had some magical residue on it. They think that GEO somehow uses magic to create a link between the game and the player.  That is why the game seems to understand and adapt to the player more than you would expect and that could be part of the reason why I got changed.”

Uncle Jim takes another step back while looking at his mouse like it turned into a snake. “Is it safe?”

“Umm, I think so?” I hesitantly say, as I shrug my shoulders.

Uncle Jim looks back to his mouse and now his character is waiting patiently for him on the screen.  He carefully reaches down and touches his mouse again, almost like he is expecting it to shock him or something now.  I watch as the magic reconnects with him and when he doesn’t get shocked, he glances back at me.  “Is it doing anything now?”

“Umm, yes.” I say as he quickly snatches his hand back from his mouse.  “But, it only seems to be forming a very weak connection. It is probably safe.  I mean, I’m really the only person out of hundreds of thousands of people who has had a problem with it, right?”

Uncle Jim gingerly reaches forward again and this time he doesn’t snatch his hand away. He moves his mouse a few times and looking reassured, he slowly eases himself back into his chair and rolls it forward to play the game.  After a few minutes of controlling his character and not getting zapped by anything, he relaxes and seems to forget about it while he enjoys the game.  

I continue to watch and listen to him play, but I retreat to the middle of the room where I feel safe from GEO’s magic.

Lord Vincint apologizes to the guild for being late, but he is quickly forgiven when the evil Dark forces attempt to mount an attack on the Light forces position.  It is a close battle, but Lord Vincint’s active participation seems to make all the difference as the evil player character Marala’s forces are defeated and forced to retreat back to their stronghold.

“You should...” I start to tell him that he should counterattack them now, while they are disorganized, but he beats me to it by jumping onto his waiting warhorse and leading an attack to accomplish that idea. I guess that he doesn’t really need my help with advice from the back seat.  That really makes me wish I was playing, because as Whisper, I could have scouted the enemy’s stronghold and told Lord Vincint where the weakest points were.

The charge led by Lord Vincint smashes into the retreating rear of the enemy, taking them completely by surprise. It also takes the folks manning the gates of their stronghold by surprise since Lord Vincint’s mounted forces are able to enter Marala’s stronghold via the open gate while they belatedly try to close it.  Lord Vincint slaughters the Dark force’s NPCs manning the gate controls and that allows the rest of our forces to quickly gain control of the stronghold’s outer defenses.  

It’s pretty much over for the evil Marala at that point, but she still manages to surprise our forces and inflict more than a few casualties before Lord Vincint finally manages to break through and seize control of her stronghold’s central command center slash throne room.

Protected by a small force of warriors wearing gleaming black plate mail, a very pretty and slightly demonic looking woman dressed mostly in black is standing on a raised dais in front of a glowing escape portal. I can’t help it as I find myself drawn a few feet closer to the screen so that I can study her face.

Whoever is playing her, Marala’s face reminds me a little of Sara, but she can’t be Sara, because Sara isn’t ‘that’ evil. Well, Sara did say that she plays and that she is on the evil side, but I still find it hard to believe that Sara could be Marala. I know that GEO is just a game and also more than just a game, but I’ve heard some pretty nasty stories about Marala.

It looks like she has claws or talons for finger nails because her hands are covered in fresh blood. I guess that she took an active role in taking out a few of our teams as they broke through Marala’s defenses. I watch as she casually licks some of the blood off her fingers and smiles, displaying her fangs while she waits to see if her remaining defenders will be able to stop Lord Vincint’s forces.

She totally reminds me of Sara with that sort of lazy and sensual smirking smile.

“Holy crap! I think that Marala is Sara!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Uncle Jim looks back at me with surprise. “What? Are you sure?”

Ashamed by my outburst and by the fact that if she is Sara, I just ratted her out to Lord Vincint, I blush. “Umm, not sure, no, but she does kind of sort of remind me of her.”

Uncle Jim turns back to his screen and appears to study her a bit closer, but before he can do anything about, Marala gestures toward her guards and takes a step backwards and towards the portal. Just one more step and she will enter the portal and escape.

“Damn you, Lord Vincint and your so called forces of ‘Light’!” Marala yells with a sneer that seems to tell me that she doesn’t really think we are the good guys here.

“You haven’t seen the last of me!” Marala snarls as she steps into the portal, followed by her honor guard.

I almost expected her to say, “I’ll get you, my pretty!”, but she doesn’t and now I am not really interested in watching Uncle Jim play GEO.  I am feeling a little upset and confused and I don’t feel comfortable being in the same room with someone playing GEO.

“Umm, I’m going to get some water. Do you want anything?” I ask.

“I’m good. Thanks.” Uncle Jim says without taking his eyes off his screen. He looks pretty busy managing the cleanup and ownership transfer of the stronghold into Light control.

So, I slip out of the room, grab a glass of water from the kitchen, take a few sips and plop myself down on the couch in the living room with a huge sigh.  Well, huge for me, but my ever vigilant girl behavior audit alerts me to the fact that I sounded like Lindsay when she’s depressed about something.  Okay, so maybe my girl behavior alert system isn’t all that reliable, but the last few days have been a little difficult for me.  I really wish that I could talk to Sara or Nikki right now, but that is probably not possible.  I just saw Sara, well, pretty sure I saw her, playing GEO. So, there is no way that she could jump into my head right now.  Besides, I’m not even in my head for her jump into; if that makes any sense.

I check my internal clock and it is only 2030 hours. Aunt Julie left at 1936 hours and Uncle Jim logged into GEO at 1940 hours.  I watched Uncle Jim play for almost an hour?  I find that hard to believe. It didn’t seem like it was that long.  

They have a very large and realistic looking gas fireplace built into the wall and I find myself staring at it, lost in thought as the flames dance around. After a few minutes of zoning out, I decide that I would probably be more comfortable if sit back and snuggle myself into the couch.

>Medical Alert: Allergic reaction detected!

Crap!

I sit up and I feel the exposed skin on my back and shoulders tingling a little.  Their couch looks like suede, but I guess that it isn’t real suede. I don’t know why I didn’t think to check it first.  This is so frustrating!  I walk over and sit down on the stone mantle in front of the fire place.  

Ahhh, nice and warm.

But, after five minutes of vegging out in front of the fireplace, my butt decides that the hard stone surface isn’t all the comfortable even if my butt is a little more padded now.  With that, I decide to just get up and explore the house some.  It is pretty big and it should take me more than a few minutes to see what I can find.  

There is an upstairs level, which I assume has the bedrooms, but I also spot some stairs leading down.  So, I softly pad down the stairs and I find myself in a large open area that has a nice bar off to the side and a wicked and by wicked, I mean, totally awesome home theater setup.  There is a huge 55” inch High Def TV on the far wall and expensive looking black stereo components on an expensive looking brushed aluminum and glass stand.  Even better, it looks like the couches and chairs are made of leather and designed specifically for watching movies. The speakers are bit harder to spot.  They are all built into the walls and ceiling with color matching mesh grills.  Watching a movie with this setup must totally rock!

As I walk around the room and drool over everything, I notice something that smells suspiciously like a large open body of water.  Kind of like there is a pool, but I don’t know where they could be hiding it. The house is big, but isn’t that big.  Following my nose, I enter into a large and very well insulated spa room, complete with a large built in Jacuzzi tub, shower and a small room of some kind.  I peek into the small window set in the door and it looks like it is one of those steam room things that old fat mafia guys from the movies like to sit naked in while they plot their next crime.

With that bit of mental imagery disturbing my mind, I turn back around and spot a clock on the wall and I notice that it is almost 9pm now, so I decide to head back up stairs.  Aunt Julie should be getting home any time now, I think. As I sneak back up to the main floor, I hear a phone softly ringing from the kitchen. I head into the kitchen thinking that Uncle Jim left his phone in there and maybe I could take it to him so that he could call back who ever is trying to get a hold of him. It is not Uncle Jim’s cell phone that is ringing. It is the house phone, but before I can figure out if I should answer it or not, their answering machine picks up and I hear Aunt Julie’s voice.

“Hi, I just wanted to let you know that I am on my way home. I had a bit of a scare, but I’m done now. I can’t wait to show Chloe what I got and I should be home shortly.  Love ya, bye!”

I thought about picking it up as soon as I heard her voice, but it’s not my house; I’m not sure I should.  I decide to just go and give Uncle Jim the message.  He is in the middle of some sort of boring council meeting when I walk back into his office and tap him on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Umm, sorry, but, Aunt Julie called and left a message. She is on her way home.” I whisper in his ear.

Somewhat distractedly, Uncle Jim turns and mouths. “Oh, thanks.”

“Need anything?” I softly ask.

Uncle Jim gratefully smiles at me. “Sure. Water?”

I nod and quietly tiptoe out of the room to retrieve him a glass of water.

>Alert: Encrypted military grade radio transmissions detected!
>Searching...

While my system is doing its searching thing, I hear a burst of static from what I assume is another transmission.  I decide that Uncle Jim’s water isn’t important anymore.

>Template match found!
>Implementing Template...

{“Delta four, in position. Target zone is quiet. No sign of Principal.”}

{“Roger Delta four. Golf two reports Secondary is inbound. Echo tango alpha in ten mike.”}

{“Roger Echo One”}

I just want to scream. I am so freaking mad.  

God damnit!

Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean it, but where in the hell, pardon my language, are these assholes and what in the hell are they doing here? How did they find me so fast?

With that thought, a small window pops up on my HUD with an overhead view of the house.

>Triangulating positions based upon previous transmissions...

It’s not a great view. Since I have not even thought to look out the window and into the back yard, that part of the map is black, but the front yard is pretty good since I saw that when we drove into the driveway.

After a second or two, a small glowing dot appears in the front, near a large clump of bushes and a second glowing dot, labeled “Delta 4” appears in the back, but due to the state of my map, I cannot tell exactly where in the back yard the second dot is located.

A third dot appears on my map, but it is even further into the blackness. That might be that “Echo One” person and as I think that, a label saying just that appears next to it.

Okay, so who is the dot in the front?

>Insufficient data...

Damn it!

Sorry. Are they with Delta four and Echo One?

>Transmission template matches targets identified as Delta 4 and Echo One.

Okay, so they probably are together and the Echo One dude said that “the Secondary was inbound and echo tango alpha 10 mike.”  Secondary must be Aunt Julie and her ETA is in 10 minutes.  I can’t let them hurt Uncle Jim and Aunt Julie!  I look around the kitchen and spot a really sharp looking 10 inch chef’s knife with a black wooden handle.

I am not sure if I can actually use a knife on another person, but lacking a gun, it will have to do.  There is no way that I am going to try fighting them without a weapon of some sort.  Well, other than my keen wits, but I am not feeling all that keen right now.  Whoever is in the front, they need to not be a threat to Aunt Julie and it sounds like I have less than 10 minutes to make sure that they are not a threat.  Then, I will need to umm, neutralize, the target in the back yard and finally, I will have to run away so that Uncle Jim and Aunt Julie won’t get hurt.

I feel my eyes start to sting as the tears well up and begin to drip down my face. I hate to do it and sorry, Mom, but I think that I need the STIMS for this.

>Administering Combat Stims...

My tears stop falling almost instantly.