~o~O~o~

Whisper learns what her friend Sara is and starts gathering intel for her Whateley mission. The plans for her ride on a Air Force dropship are modified and Mrs. Carson is not what she expected.

 

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: So, this is it...the final chapter of Whisper Book One. This is the official end of my first story, ever. I didn't think I could write something like this and if I had know what it was going to become, I doubt I would have had the confidence to start it in the first place. Ya see, this was really just going to be a little Spiderman Retcon, but no plan survives contact with the enemy. :) Special thanks goes out to Nicky82 over at TCH for his attempts to keep my from 'jumping the shark' with this story. He had to put the brakes on a lot of my crazy ideas. Draflow for his tactical expertise and I miss him lots. Beyogi for his almost daily feedback and suggestions. Last but not least, djkauf for his magical editing.

~o~O~o~

 

** Chapter 42 **

Sara has the nerve to giggle at me as she blithely ignores the sniper rifle that I almost shot her with.  “Nice camo effect ya got there.” Sara blinks as my suit re-adapts itself to my background. “Having fun blowing up robots?”  She casually saunters over to where I had been lying and studies the results of my last shot. I turn back and join her to see what she finds so interesting with my scenario.

“Umm, yeah, it is kinda fun...” I watch as the soldier robots scramble to aid the burning general robot.  The enemy robots spot the two of us standing out in the open and pretty quickly, a whole crap load of bullets, missiles and artillery heads our way.  I pause the game before anything can get close.

“Why robots?” Sara frowns as she turns her head to look at me like she already knows the answer.

I feel a little ashamed by my inability to use virtual real people as my targets, but I cannot help it when the simulated scene where my mom was shot by the H1 dude plays itself back to me. “Umm, I didn’t wanna kill anyone...”

Sara pulls me into a hug followed by a peck on my forehead before she releases me with a heavy sigh. “You may not have that luxury in the future...” She looks so sad as she glances back at the frozen robot army before turning back to me. “But, I think we can worry about that another time. Now, tell me how your day went!” She grins at me. “What kind of trouble did you get into?”

“Sara! I do ‘not’ get into trouble. Trouble finds me...mostly...” I sigh with frustration and switch us to my living room with me already sitting on my couch. One leg folded under the other with my back wedged into the right armrest so I can face Sara.

“Okkaaay, then what kind of trouble found you?” Sara plops down next to me on the couch.

I notice my tac-suit changing colors to match the couch and I decide to switch to a casual sweat pant outfit. It will probably be easier for Sara and me to chat without me blending into the furniture. I could just cancel the chameleon effect, but Sara would probably find some way to tease me for wearing my slayer cat suit. I mean tac-suit.  I decide to try and distract her by giving her my best smile. “So, how was your day?”

“Ya know, you could have just kept your cat suit on, meow...”  Sara sees my bluff and raises me $20.

I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s a ‘tac-suit’ and I wanted something more comfortable to wear.”

“Uh-Huh, so, trouble?”  Sara lies down on her stomach facing me, expectantly resting her chin in her hands with her feet kicked lazily up in the air.

“Come on, don’t you think I can go one day without getting into trouble?”  I cannot help whining a little.

“Nope, not at all. Spill it.”

“Geez, okay, but it wasn’t really trouble, trouble. More like, ‘I can’t believe it’ sort of trouble...you probably wouldn’t find it all that interesting really...”

 

“Breeee...don’t make me tickle you...” Sara sort of growls my name.

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

Sara goes from relaxed to pounce mode in a blink of the eye and she breaks me in less than 10 seconds of tickle torture.

“Okay, okay!  I’ll tell you!” I manage to gasp. I could have lasted longer, but I didn’t want to.

Sara gives me an extra 10 seconds of tickle torture before she stops. “See? I told you zat vee have vays of makin’ peeple talk!”

“Okay, okay, okay...well, you see...” I tell her about Mrs. Granston’s surprise visit at the house and how she was finally convinced by Admiral Jensen to de-invite me.  My mom being allowed to stay with us and the MCO’s mysterious withdrawal.

“I hoped that might happen...” Sara distractedly smiles for second.

“What?” I wonder what she meant by that. Did Sara scare the MCO or something?

“Oh, nothing...do go on. Even your not-trouble is fascinating!”  Sara smiles innocently up at me after she resumes her chin in hand position on the couch.

I tell her about my mom and Aunt Julie getting drunk with me changing my mom into Gogo Yubari and Aunt Julie into Elle Driver from Kill Bill, after they both asked me too. Sara finds it hysterical until I tell mention my mom getting upset because she thought I changed her into a school girl to be mean about the Whateley uniform.  I kind of gloss over the puking and my remote medical thing.  I explain the flight plans for tomorrow and finish my story with a nice, trouble free, dinner followed by movie.

“Hmmmphh, where is the earth shattering ka-boom?” Sara pouts.

“Hah! It can’t rain all the time...” I toss a quote back at her.

Sara stands and concentrates for a second. “Okay, so barring any further trouble, like someone trying to hijack an Air Force dropship, you will be here tomorrow morning. Hmmm, I would love if you could stop by and visit me, buuuuttt...That is probably a bad way to start your introduction to Whateley.

I know she is some sort of demon, or something, but I thought she was also my friend. Is she one of the popular girls at school and being seen with me would lower her standing? “Bad? Why?” I glance down to prevent her seeing the bleeping tears threatening to spill.

She drops down in front of me, grabs my hands and looks up at me. “Look, it’s not because I don’t like you, Bree.” She sighs heavily and her voice drops to barely a whisper. “It’s because I care very much about you and it would kill me to see you get hurt.”

I look into her demonic red eyes and see a painful loneliness that makes my heart ache.  “I don’t understand. How could being friends with you get me hurt?”

“It’s complicated...” Sara pauses, closes her eyes and sighs.

I wait for her to continue.

“I am not sure if you are ready or not, but my dad, Gothmog.” Sara hesitates and I can tell she is not sure about continuing. “Oh yeah, I told him about you. He really wants to meet you. Hey, are you hungry? Maybe we should call it a night?”

Now she is trying to be evasive. “Sara...” I stare her down.

“Fine...well, he’s what is known as a Great Old One, or GOO.”

A Great Old One, they do not sound that bad. “Umm, okay?”

“You’ve never heard of a GOO before, have you?” Sara asks as I shake my head back and forth.  “Have you heard of Cthulhu?”

Oh crap!  Cthulhu, I have heard about.  He’s in one of the original D&D Mythology manuals and from what I recall, he is bad, real bad, super insanity bad. Do not cross Go! do not collect $200 bad.

“I see you have, well, my dad is kind of a brother of Cthulhu and as a result, I am also a GOO, but more like a baby GOO.”

I cannot help it, but “goo-goo gah-gah” immediately comes to my mind and I start to smile.

“Don’t even think it...” Sara softly growls, but I can see the beginnings of a smile on her face.  She pauses as I work to eliminate all traces of humor from my expression.

“Now, as I was saying...GOO’s are considered by most people to be, at their best, merely bad while the people who really know more about GOO’s, well, those people hate us and they see me, a baby GOO, as a threat to humanity.”

I look back up at her face, alarmed by her news. “But, I don’t think you’re evil...” I recall all the sort of evil, well, more like mischievous tricks she has played on me. “Okay, well, not a threat to humanity, but evil anyway...”

Sara giggles and affectionately messes up my hair before stepping back, conveniently out of range for a reprisal. “I am glad you feel that way, but there a people who feel it is their God given right and duty to see me dead. People who under any other circumstance, would be considered a good person, but they fear me.  They fear me a lot and it would kill me to see you get hurt because they will use anyone and anything to hurt me.”

“I don’t care. I can help you...” I hope that she will let me, even though I know she is trying to explain why she will not.

Sara leans down and plants a warm and tender kiss me on the top of my head. “No, my lovable, innocent friend and cousin, you are going to be busy enough taking care of yourself. You do not! want to add my troubles to your plate.”

Sara makes me sound like a little kid. “Hey! I am not ‘that’ innocent and I am not about to do nothing if one of my friends are in trouble. I’m not afraid. I can help!”

“Hehe, I know you would, but I would rather you not go looking for more trouble by immediately associating yourself with me.” Sara drops to her knees in front of me and looks earnestly up to my face. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I don’t like you. I’m telling you this because I care about you, a lot.”

Her advice goes against everything I know. I do not like it, but at the same time, I think I understand what she is trying to tell me. “Oh...So, what should I do?”

Sara purses her lips with concentration. “I would try to keep your head down, don’t attract attention and learn all you can. It’s kinda like being in BASIC training.  If the Drill Sergeant learns your name, then you’re in trouble.”

I do not have any experience with BASIC training, but I have seen a few movies and it was always the trouble maker or the easy to pick out person who got slammed by the drill sergeants.  I am an Elf, sorry, Sidhe and as a result, I am pretty sure I will stand out and be noticeable. “Would it help if I disguised myself as a human then?”

Sara’s eyes briefly flare with excitement as she considers my idea. “Actually, that might not be a bad idea, but it will only be a short term solution.” She crosses her arms and taps her foot as she mulls over the idea. “There are students who will see through your illusion, but it might take them a few days to notice and that would give you time to establish yourself better. Once your Sidhe heritage is revealed, you will draw attention to yourself due to Nikki also being a Sidhe and one of the most popular girls at school.”

I summon a mirror and study my reflection. “Hmm, what if I keep it small and only change my ears to look human, maybe my eyes, those kinda stand out too...” I do not actually use my magic in VR to change my appearance, but I do simulate using my magic.  I guess I could have just willed the change, but it seems more realistic. There, done! No need to OCD about how I do it in my VR world.

Sara smiles as she studies my face. “That could work.  You’re still you, but not. Very subtle and it may even escape detection for a longer time. Hard to say for sure though...so just don’t count on it working for too long. In other words, have a Plan B.”

Me, I am torn by yet another disguise for me, but there is no need for me to go all angsty about it. I mean, what is one more disguise and as disguises go, this one is actually pretty minor. I still look like me, well, the new me, and not someone completely different, like Chloe.

Sara reaches over and gives me a quick hug before she grabs both of my arms and turns me away from the mirror, facing her. “What’s with the sad face?”

I drop my eyes, past her very distracting breasts. I am a little embarrassed about how I am feeling, but it is so complicated and I have no idea how to start. “I’m just not sure who I am any-ack!”

Sara does not let me finish. She crushes me against herself and speaks softly in my ear. “Shhhh, you’re you. Brianna Nicole Peters who was once Brian. People change, just some change more than others, but as long as you stay true to yourself, you will always change for the better.”

It feels good to be hugged by her. Well, more than good, but I refuse to acknowledge the warm tingly feelings she is causing me. “Umm, I like that,” I almost moan before I focus on her words to distract myself. “But it sounds kinda warm and fuzzy coming from a demon...”

Sara releases me and all the light in my room appears to want to absorb into her. “Don’t make me tickle you again...” She raises her arms and flexes her fingers threateningly as she pretends to stalk me.

I know that I should be scared, but it’s Sara. “No, no, not that. Please don’t throw me in the briar patch...”

“Brat!”  Sara giggles at me.  “Well, I hate to say it, but I must be off. Now that I’m a TA, I have tests to grade and virgins to sacrifice...”  She looks at me with an interested eyebrow.

“Sara!  You, you...I give up!” I throw my arms up with surrender before I turn away from her so she cannot see how close to crying I am right now.

She hugs me from behind, wrapping her arms under mine while giving me a tender kiss on my neck. I lean into her as she makes my entire body tingle with desire.  She gently spins me around to face her and surprises me with a quick kiss on my lips before fading away like the Cheshire cat, fanged smile glittering as it fades and disappears on me.

“Well, that was, umm, distracting...” I absently rub my still tingling lips as I shiver from the after effects of her touch.

“Okay, focus!” I mutter to myself as I try to come up with a plan. Due to Sara’s info-dump, I have a lot to think about.  It sounds like my basic goal will be to get in, not be noticed by anyone and get out.  That should be fairly simple, right?  Other than JROTC, I am not planning on joining any group and being with the JROTC folks should help me.

Okay, it is 0300 and I have two hours before anyone wakes up. First, I think I will take my shower and be ready to go.  That way, I can do all my planning and the hot water will have a chance to refresh for everyone else. Not that I plan on taking a super long shower, but it can’t hurt.

The shower ends up taking a tad longer than I expected. No, not for ‘that’ reason. I accidentally got my hair wet and then, I decided to just wash it.  In addition to that, I spent a few extra minutes under the water, simply enjoying the sensations of the warm water against my skin.  I think I am beginning to get used to my body and *shudder*, even enjoy how the girl soaps make my skin smell and feel.

I decide to follow my mom’s advice and wear my skirt outfit.  I will also need to get the girl’s uniforms ASAP and worst of all, I probably should wear the uniform skirt for the first few days too.  It should help me blend in better since I assume most girls will be wearing the uniform skirts instead of the pants.

I study my reflection in the mirror I cannot get over what I see.  I know it should not come as a surprise, but it still is and I think I feel even more shocked because I am not in disguise. I am me, not Chloe and if I saw a girl who looked like I do now, I would have totally been in love with her.  Maybe when I apply my human disguise I will not look so pretty?

I focus on looking human with just my eyes and ears and then, I cast my illusion spell. My features change and nope, I still look pretty, but not as exotically pretty. Something looks wrong though. I hate to say it, but I think my eyes are kind of plain now.  Maybe too plain because I cannot remember the last time I saw a girl without at least a little eye shadow.  Crap, this is getting more complicated.

*Sigh*

I add a hint of eye shadow to help my eyes ‘pop’ and now my lips look a little too pale.  Girls at my school always have lip gloss or something, right?  Okay, I add a slightly darker and glossy sheen to my lips.

I recheck my reflection and I cannot go out looking like this!  What in the heck am I thinking?  There is no way that I can pull this off! Everyone will look at me and think the same things I would have thought about the hot chick I now look like.  Plus, everyone notices the hot chick. How am I supposed to not attract attention if I look like this?

I wipe out my illusions and ransack my clothes for something less girlish to wear.  I can wear what I wore to the mall with Amanda because showing up in jeans and a t-shirt will work, right?  I quickly switch into my jeans, but now I realize how tight and restrictive they feel compared to my leggings and skirt. The jeans also show off my butt. I need a long sweater or something to cover my butt, but I don’t have one. Crap, even with all these clothes, I do not have anything to wear!

Now I sound like my sister, except she has an entire closet full of clothes.  I am NOT going to be one of those girls!  I absolutely refuse to stress out about what to wear and waste all my time trying on different outfits while asking my boy-.  Okay, asking my parents if this such and such makes my butt look fat. Even though I just thought my butt looked fat in the jeans.

Sigh, I can’t win, can I?

Grrrrr...okay, fine, I will wear the bleeping skirt thing with the ankle boots. I reactivate my human disguise, complete with the makeup effect. There, that’s not too bad. It ‘only’ took me 20 minutes to figure out what to wear. Ha! I am finally ready to go, mostly. I waste another 10 minutes packing my suitcase. It takes some work getting all my new clothes packed in there, but I make it happen. Being able to use my extra strength to smush things down helps a ton with getting the zipper to close.

I feel pretty happy about still being able to get all my stuff into one medium sized suitcase, until I remember all my new shoes and toiletry items.  Dangit! I need a larger suitcase now.  Packing girl clothes sucks!

I decide to leave the packing alone. I figure my mom will have some ideas on what to do about all my clothes. Maybe she can take some home with her.  Instead of worrying about it, I make my bed and sit on it, cross legged, facing the door while being extra careful not to wrinkle my skirt.  Satisfied, I enter my VR living room and add on an extra room.  I make the room into my office slash command center complete with a high tech Star Trek inspired sliding doorway.

I stick with my Star Trek theme and make it kind of like a bridge with a captain’s chair and super large main screen display.  I even make my default screen saver look like a moving star field.  Designing and building it only takes a few minutes, so I break it in by beginning my plan of attack for surviving Whateley.

First thing I do is pull up Google maps for the satellite image of the school grounds.  Second, I open the Whateley website and overlay their rather rudimentary grounds map to the satellite imagery.  It appears that Whateley has more than a few structures that are not listed on their website.  

They do have a student and faculty login. I assume that they must provide some additional manuals and guides to authorized users.  I debate trying to hack into their site, but the risk is probably not worth it since I do not even know where to start.  Besides, getting busted and in trouble for trying to hack their site would probably not make the school happy with me.

I bet the military has some good maps of the school.  I check my Mil.Net access and surprise, surprise, Dr. Edmundson left it open.  Sweet!  I find some highly detailed topographic maps along with super high resolution satellite images of the school grounds. The military even has some thermographic and ground penetrating scans of the area. I am a little surprised that I can access the images because they are stamped “Top Secret”, but I guess my access level is pretty high because it lets me view them without any extra hassle.

Hmmm, there appears to be a lot of underground areas.  I add all those to my map overlay, creating layers that I can hopefully fill in when I start scouting the school. The week break before classes start and all the students return should give me some excellent scouting opportunities.

Once I have a class schedule, I can plot out all my routes, sticking to high traffic areas. It looks like there are a few shortcuts worn into the grounds, but I might want to avoid those because taking the less traveled routes makes it easier to be noticed and separated from the herd.

A lot of my plans will depend on which dorm, or “cottage” I am stuck in and my class schedule, neither of which I have. As a result, I do not get very far into my planning session when Uncle Jim’s alarm goes off.  I pause everything and run downstairs to start the coffee for the adults. After I get the pot started, I run back up and wake up my mom before returning to the kitchen to wait out the arrival of the dreaded coffee zombies.

Uncle Jim is the first to arrive. “Chloe, I mean Bree, you look...different.”

I am not sure how to take his feedback. Is it bad, or is it good?  I glance down at my clothes to see if something is showing. Nope, just the bumps on my chest getting in the way. “Umm, different?”

Uncle Jim chuckles softly as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Yes, one, you’re not Chloe and two, you’re following your GEO disguise plan by making yourself look human. Very good idea.”

“Oh...”  I guess he is complimenting me.

He takes an appreciative sip from his cup and smiles at me with a twinkle in his eyes. “Plus, you look beautiful.”

“What?”  I retreat a step as I feel my face flush. It is one thing to realize I might be a pretty girl, but it is a completely different thing to have someone else tell me I am not just pretty, but beautiful.  Especially when that someone else is a man.

“Relax Bree, Chloe was or is a very beautiful girl and you did a fine job pretending to be her. You will be fine.” Uncle Jim reaches out and gives me a supportive hug before he takes his usual spot at the breakfast bar.

“Umm, okay, I will try, but this...” I point to my face and pan down to cover my entire body. “...is going to take some getting used too because, well, you know...”

Uncle Jim nods with agreement. “I know, but in all honesty, I can’t say I know because what happened to you is just not something I ever considered as a possibility.  If it happened to me, I can only hope that I would be able to handle it as well as you are.”

His honesty simultaneously surprises and reassures me.  “I didn’t really think I was handling it all that well...”

Uncle Jim pats the chair next to him. I take his invitation after grabbing a glass of OJ.

“Trust me on this, you are...” Uncle Jim waits for me before taking another slow sip of coffee and then, stares at the steaming black liquid, deep in thought. “I have known you as Whisper for over a year now. I know, I know, I didn’t really know you, not the real you.” He looks up and focuses on my eyes. “But even online; I could tell you were a good kid. Smart, but not a smart ass.  Loyal and honorable, even though you were playing a thief.  I knew I could always count on you to get the job done and some of the jobs you pulled were truly epic.” He grins. “Hehe, it’s almost a shame you were so modest because if more people knew about your exploits...well, okay, maybe it’s a good thing that they didn’t.”

My eyes are threatening to leak again. Dang it.

Uncle Jim looks back down at his cup. “What I am trying to say is that, well, you’re far stronger than you think you are and boy or girl...” He looks back up at me. “You will be fine as long as you are true to yourself and...” He lightly taps me on my chest. “...follow your heart.”

His advice sounds like something my dad would tell me and that realization, plus the fact that Uncle Jim sounds like he really cares about me; causes my eyes to totally leak.  I grab a napkin and he pulls me into a loose one armed hug with my head resting on his shoulder. He turns and gives me an affectionate kiss on the top of my head before releasing me.  “Thanks, I will try.” I say and surprisingly, I feel better and more sure about myself.  “Umm, do you want me to make you a bagel or something?”

Uncle Jim shakes his head. “Not this time. Your Aunt Julie and I are planning on taking you and your mom out for breakfast before we drop you off at the airport.”  He glances at his watch and then, briefly turns to look up the stairs. “Well, if we have time...”

It is only 0534 and I think it is possible, but I don’t know how long it will take my mom to finish getting ready or if she knows about the breakfast plan.  “I should go check on my mom then.” I pour her a cup. “And, bring her some coffee. That might help.”  I grin at Uncle Jim.

Surprisingly, my mom is almost ready to go. She smiles appreciatively at me as she pauses to take a sip of her coffee. Once the first sip is done, she re-opens her eyes and inspects me. “You look very nice Bree. I am glad you decided to wear that outfit today.  You even did a good job with your makeup, or illusion?”

“Umm, illusion, and thanks, I guess, but I still feel weird dressing like this and worrying about my makeup...” I sort of just space out with the makeup concern.

She stops and gives me a quick hug. “You’ll be fine.”

I notice her suitcase is mostly packed, but I guess she never had to unpack it either.  I mention the problem with my suitcase and she just smiles at me. “That won’t be a problem dear. Aunt Julie has an extra suitcase.  Why don’t you go get it from her and meet me in your room?  I will help you pack everything.”

Aunt Julie compliments me on my outfit and after Uncle Jim’s compliment followed by my mom’s, I respond favorably and don’t freak out in the slightest. She gives me a very nice, hard cover, rolling suitcase that is actually slightly larger than my suitcase. Maybe my mom will be able to fit everything into one suitcase now.

She does not even try. Ten minutes later, I have two mostly full suitcases and that puts the final nail in the girl coffin. It is official; my luggage now weighs more than me.  Okay, maybe not, but it is close.

We make it out of the house in time for us to eat breakfast.  That is a new experience because none of us are in disguise. Well, except for me in my human disguise, but no one tries to rob the diner or attack me. So, I guess I might be able to stay out of trouble for a few days.  We have a tearful goodbye at the airport, but all the other people, rudely honking their horns, help to cut the public displays of affection to the bare minimum.  I have to promise to email and call as soon as I can, but that is kind of expected.

Walking through the airport is very distracting for me. Not only are there lots of people, but there are also tons of signals from all the various personal cell phones, police, emergency and military band radios and the many wifi networks. It is too much, but I do not want to miss a possible attack.

Filter on keywords: target, Whisper, MCO and H1.

>Filter set

And, all the spam conversations minimizes down to a small window.

*cheer*

As we enter the baggage claim area I hear: “Brianna! Over here!” I turn and spot Airman Reynolds, I mean, Jessica, in civilian clothes hanging on the arm of the SEAL dude I recognize as Delta One. Jessica has a sparkly wedding band on her finger. So, I guess they are pretending to be married since she did not have a ring the last time she drove us to the testing facility.

My mom looks happy to see Jessica, but until I get into range to scan for their CAC ID cards, I am going to be a little suspicious of them.

>U.S.A.F./RA/Airman First Class/E-3/Jessica/Ann/Reynolds/xxx-xx-xxxx/A-/FALSE

>U.S.Navy/RN/PO2/E-5/Grant/Jonathan/Brooks/xxx-xx-xxxx/B-/FALSE

Oh, so that is Delta One’s name. Grant is kind of an unusual name, but oh well. I guess they are who I think they are. After we put on the standard, “Oh my god! It’s been so long! You have gotten so big! ( By the way, that is directed at me. ) How was your flight?” greeting slash show, we are whisked away in a fancy new Mustang GT.  Swa-eet!

The Mustang sounds nice, especially when Brooks punches it to merge onto the highway.  It accelerates pretty darn fast too.

>Alert: Encrypted military grade radio transmissions detected!

>Searching...

>Template match found!

>Implementing Template...

{“...lear.”}

I am a little worried about the transmission, but then I calm down when realize it came from Brooks. He glances over his shoulder. “We’re clear. No tails.”

At Langley AFB, our car is waved through the front gates with barely a second glance by the uniformed Military Police dude, but we pick up an escort vehicle and another tailing vehicle as soon as we get a few hundred yards past the gates.  We are led to another set of gates that lead to some huge hangers with rows of fighter jets parked outside.  The final hangar has a huge CX-5 Dropship parked outside and we are escorted into the hanger.  The doors rapidly slide closed behind us.

Inside the hanger are a row of new F-22 Raptors and few people in dress uniforms. I spot and recognize Mr. Reilly, General Evans and Captain Howards right away, but I do not recognize the additional two men wearing Navy dress uniforms.  Not until I zoom in and read their name tags anyway.

Admiral Jensen and Admiral Grantson, that is a surprise. I lean forward and get Jessica’s attention. “Does the Air Force know that the Navy is invading their turf?”

Jessica and Brooks look at each other and laugh.  “Too funny, Bree!” Jessica says, looking back at me with a grin.

There are a few more lower ranked officers and enlisted folks helping out, but there is one woman who stands out because she is not wearing a uniform. Instead, she is wearing a simple dark blue women's v-neck top, with jeans and trekking boots, as well as an old leather coat. Her outfit was obviously put together with functionality in mind, but I think it has an urban badass mixed with cyberpunk feel. Her outfit wouldn't have been out of place in that Bladerunner movie Dad likes so much.

Brooks gives me a hand out from the driver’s side, while my mom is assisted by Jessica.  “Umm, Brooks, do you know...”  I don’t manage to finish my question because I hear my sister yell. “Mom! Bree!”

I look over and spot my dad grinning sheepishly as Lindsay runs forward to hug Mom.  I walk around the rear of the Mustang with the intent to help Brooks with our suitcases.

Lindsay has other ideas. She rushes over, but stops a few feet away with wonder in her eyes. “Oh. My. God. Bree? Is that really you?!?”

I do not know what she is so gaga about. “Umm, yeah, but how di-”

Lindsay crushes me with a hug and almost bowls me over. “Oh my god! I was so worried about you!  John and Lisa were too!”

I am glad I am wearing my boots with the two inch heel because they make me slightly taller than my little sister.  Hey, it isn’t much, but I have to take my victories when and where I can. “Hehe, sorry Lindsay, I kinda expected you to have taken over my room already.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t want your stinky room, but...” Lindsay steps back and takes in my outfit with an appreciative smirk. “...I can’t wait until you come home because it looks like you will have so many outfits I can borrow!”

Say what?!?! I am shocked that my sister would say something like that, but not. “Hey!”

“Girls, we need to pay attention now...” My dad calls out sounding slightly hesitant with his pronunciation of ‘girls’.

Lindsay closes ranks with me as she turns back to face him with her patented angelic expression. “Yes, Daddy, sorry...”

I am still getting over Lindsay’s idea about borrowing my clothes. It takes me half a second to connect my dad’s “girls” as also applying to me.  Lindsay bumps me with her elbow. “Oh, yeah, sorry...umm, Dad.” I am not calling him Daddy, but I do take some comfort by the fact that my dad seems a little unsure with the idea that he now has two daughters now.

“Oh my god, Bree, this is so cool!” Lindsay whispers as she grabs my arm to keep me from escaping, or something.  It cannot be because she likes me and wants to be with me. Little sisters are not supposed to like their big bro- err, older siblings, it’s a rule somewhere.

Mr. Reilly clears his throat. “Yes, now, first of all, Whisper, I would like to introduce you to Admiral Jensen...” He points to him as Admiral Jensen takes half a step forward, hand extended.

I break free from Lindsay and shake his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you sir. I’m sorry I missed your party last night.”

“Oh, think nothing of it young lady, but Admiral Grantson’s beautiful, young wife practically badgered me the entire night about you...” Admiral Jensen glances over to Admiral Grantson as if he is surprised to see him standing next to him.

Admiral Grantson steps forward, interrupting Admiral Jensen. “If you think she was badgering you, try standing up to one of her interrogations!” He turns back to me and firmly shakes my hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard good things about you and the Navy is looking forward to accepting your application to join when you are done with your schooling.”

I sneak a glance over at Captain Howards. He looks suspiciously innocent.  “I’ll think about it sir, but I’m not really that good, unless you count getting kidnapped by the, umm, and pissing off the MCO as good.”

They both chuckle at my statement while Mr. Reilly grins and points me to the next person in the line, or line-up, depending on how I look at it. “Finally, we have Flashback and she is here to help us sow even more confusion with the MCO. Oh yeah, and she is how your father and sister were able to join us.”

I am a little confused by Mr. Reilly’s introduction.  I have never heard of her, but based on her code name and the fact that my dad and sister are here, I am going to guess that she can teleport people.  I am not sure what he means by ‘sowing more MCO confusion’. “Nice to meet you ma’am. Are you able to teleport or something?”

Flashback smiles and gives me the thumbs up. “Got it in one!”

I have a bad feeling about this and I glance back to Mr. Reilly. “Umm, what exactly is the plan now and does this mean I won’t get a ride in the CX-5?”

“Yes, and no.  We have a plan that will mess with the MCO and Flashback here is going help make that happen.”

“And I just love to f-mess with the MCO!” Flashback smiles at me.

“Oh, so what is going to happen then?”

“While the MCO watches, and I am sure they have an eye on our dropship out there, you will board as planned and take off, but Flashback will be there with you and port you to Whateley while the dropship travels to Afghanistan and a few additional long haul destinations.  We figure it will be rather costly and frustrating for the MCO when all it’s said and done.”

“Oh...” I am not sure about the new plan, but I have never teleported before.  I wonder what if feels like to have all of your atoms blasted apart and resembled somewhere else.  Is that how it works?

“Does it hurt?” I ask before I completely think it through. I am being a wuss because if my dad and Lindsay could handle it, then I should be able to handle it also. I start to blush from embarrassment before the sound of my stupid question fades away.  “Oh god, please forget I asked that...”

Flashback grins at me. “Asked what?” She asks, pretending like she did not hear me embarrass myself.

Lindsay is not as cool about it. “Well, that’s my ‘older’ sister for ya! She can handle getting shot, but try and do something ‘simple’ like teleportation and she totally chickens out!”

“Lindsay!” My mom admonishes my sister with a smirk that tells both of us that she is not really mad at my sister.

Everyone else begins to chuckle and I attempt to recover some cool factor points with a bow. “Thank, thank you very much! I’ll be here all this week...”  I realize I should have curtseyed instead and hastily correct my mistake, causing another round of laughter at my expense.

I glance helplessly over to Mr. Reilly. “Umm, are we there yet?”

Mr. Reilly glances up to the ceiling, pretending to be frustrated by the age old question. “Hehe, no and we need to give the pilots some time to finish securing their cargo and running their preflight checklists.  How about if we give you and your family some alone time while we wait?”

He escorts us to an office inside the hanger and closes the heavy duty glass and metal door behind us to give us some privacy. Predictably, my mom and dad give each other an embarrassingly affectionate hug and kiss. Lindsay and I both look at each other and groan, then giggle. Yes, I giggle. So, sad.  I have fallen so far in such a short span of time.  Once the ‘rents reluctantly part, Dad holds out his arms and gives me the ‘look’.  You know, ‘the come give your dad a big hug’ look and not the ‘hey Sport, come gimme a high five’ look.

I am a little reluctant and unsure, but Lindsay gives me a gentle, yet forceful nudge and I fall into my dad’s arms.  He crushes me to his chest and it actually feels pretty good. I feel safe and protected in his arms and I cannot remember the last time he gave me a hug. I guess I missed them more than I realized because I start to cry. Well, if I was still a boy, it would be called ‘crying’, but as a girl, it is more like a little wet eye, sniffle cry thing. I mean, I no tears fell, so technically, I was not crying. Right?

I wipe away the excess moisture on his shirt and laugh to cover my embarrassment. “Oh my god, sorry, Dad. Dunno what came over me there...”

Dad musses my hair a bit and gives me an affectionate kiss on my forehead. “It’s okay Bree, I kinda missed being able to give you hugs when you grew up on me and realized it wasn’t cool for boys to hug their dads.”

“Ha! It’s still not cool, but I’ll let it slide, this time.” I smile up at him. “Umm, thanks Dad and sorry for being such a hassle for you and Mom...”

I turn to apologize to Lindsay too, but she is just my little sister. It would upset the delicate balance of power in our relationship.  “Umm, but not you Lindsay. You’re still my little brat sister!” I stick my tongue out at her.

“You, you little...meanie!” Lindsay ruins her tantrum by breaking down and happily grinning at me as she taps her foot in mock anger.  Finally, she crosses her arms and begins her interrogation. “Okay sis, spill it. What happened, starting with those H1 jerks!” She practically growls and if I did not know her better, I would think she felt protective of me.

It is also a little weird having her call me ‘sis’ instead of ‘bro’ and I have no idea how I can condense everything down to only 15 minutes, but I surprise myself by getting the story down to only ten minutes. I do it by sticking to only the H1 and CIA incidents. My mom and dad hold each other tightly when I cover the H1 ‘fun’ while Lindsay surprises me by giving me a hug and tearfully thanking me, both for saving Mom and for not getting myself killed. She has trouble believing I had been shot, not once, but twice. Even with Mom backing me up, she still makes me show her where I had been shot. She looked suitably impressed by the fact that I healed so quickly and without a scar.

During my story, Dad was hard to get a read on. He alternated between looking proud of me, horrified at what happened, concerned for me and Mom, and pissed off, but not pissed off at me.  Thank God!

My family is so awesome. I always knew deep down, that my parents loved me and I am pretty sure Lindsay and I loved each other, but we did not really show it. Now, I feel practically invincible. I have gained an Aunt and an Uncle and made so many friends over the last few days.  Friends I would have never been given the chance to even know if it had not been for my accident.  Okay, so I only made three, Nikki, Sara and Amanda, maybe four if I count Brenda back at the labs, but that is a world record for me. I mean, I knew a few people, but I only had Lisa and John that I could count as friends.

Whoa! If I keep this line of thought running, I might start thinking being a girl is a good thing.  However; I am sort of amazed. It is hard to believe I could get into so much trouble and have so many things in my life change in only a few days.  Aside from being shot, well, and kidnapped, okay, and being attacked, I cannot help thinking how bored I would be if I nothing had happened to me and I was still a boy.

If I was still a boy, I would probably being doing my chores, playing some, okay, lots of GEO or hanging out with John. Maybe doing some jujitsu practice at Sensei Roger’s dojo, not exactly excitement-ville. Well, unless I got to practice against Lisa, but she is John’s girlfriend and she always kicked my ass. So, where was I?

Oh yeah, I don’t remember thinking of those activities as boring before, well, except for the chores. I actually remember looking forward to playing GEO all day or blowing stuff up on John’s PS3.  All that ‘fun’ stuff seems kind of boring now that I think of it. Is there really something wrong with me? Do I subconsciously look for trouble now?  You know, the old, ‘if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space!’ adrenalin junky mantra?

Maybe, because now, I am going to get a ride in a freaking Air Force dropship and be teleported, yes, teleported to my new school.  How cool is that?!?!  The dropship and teleported thing. Totally not the school thing, because school is kind of meh. I know it is a super mutant school and might be a little cooler than a public high school, but it is still school.

I am a little startled and disappointed when Mr. Reilly politely taps on the door before opening a crack. “Whisper, it’s time.”

My family wants to walk me all the way out and up the ramp, but Mr. Reilly stops them before we get to the hangar doors. He points up and off to the right. “The MCO has a scout ship parked over that way, on the edge of Langley Air Space, but close enough to use their optics to read a small bumper sticker. We can’t let them see you guys.”

That announcement causes another round of quick hugs before I am able to peel myself away.  Towing my excessive luggage behind me, I exit out and onto the sunny tarmac. I am tempted to try waving to the MCO dudes, but in a rare burst of impulse control, I stop myself.  Hey, it’s progress, right?

An Air Force Master Sergeant, with a nametag of Evans on his uniform, snaps to attention as I approach and then, politely leads me into the huge ship. I wonder if he knows General Evans. I know it is ‘space capable’, but it does not look like one of those early 1950’s and 60’s streamlined things the sci-fi writers envisioned back then. No, it looks more Battlestar Galactica or Firefly, but definitely not Star Trek.

I can only see the rear half of the monstrosity that should not be capable of flight, but from the pictures, I know the thing looks like a boxy Frankenstein marriage of a Whale Shark and a garbage truck, if that makes any sense.  It looks like the designers tried to make the nose streamlined, but gave up and slapped a bunch of boxes and engine pods on the thing in an effort to use raw power to make it fly.

From the rear it appears to be wide enough to drive three tractor-trailers side by side. In the center of the thing, there is a big, heavy duty ramp descending to the pavement from about 10 feet off the ground.  It doesn’t have wheels, just massive, hydraulic activated steel skid plates supporting its weight over as wide of a space as possible. Inside, can see rows of HUMVEES secured to the deck with heavy duty straps.

The Air Force currently has 5 of these monsters in service with another 15 on order with half of those slated to go to the Navy. They cost just shy of 3 billion a copy, about three times what the Navy pays for a new destroyer, but considering what they can do and how much the old Space Shuttle cost, 3 billion is a steal.

They are built like wet water ships, with air tight hatches and share a lot of the same technology and construction techniques. As a result, they are causing some interservice rivalry between the Air Force and the Navy and due to their space flight capability, NASA.

Okay, not just ‘some’ rivalry.  The Navy is fighting tooth and nail over them claiming that space is more like the ocean and the Navy knows more about operating in that kind of environment than the Air Force. The Air Force points out that they are “aircraft”, not “ships” because they fly and as a result, belong with the Air Force.  It’s a big cat fight and no one can predict what will happen in the long run because some of the ‘experts’ are starting to suggest that they are both right and they should combine the two branches into an United States Space Force or Space Navy.  Yeah, that terminology is causing some arguments also.

Politics aside, the science behind making a ship like this work is nothing short of incredible. Their design and construction had to have driven more than a few Gadgeteers insane and exactly how they work is still Top Secret, but I have heard each engine is actually a working fusion reactor. They also say it has some sort of anti-gravity device to make it lighter. Again, that is all Super Top Secret and I cannot say for sure if it is true or not, but we had a few ‘debates’ about it during science class last year.

Inside, I count ten HUMVEES tied down to the floor in what looks like a balanced arrangement.  There are also few large pallets of MRE’s, water and ammo near the center of the massive cargo bay.  The sergeant lets me gawk for a few seconds before he points me to the staircase that leads up to the next level. “Ma’am, head up the aft cargo bay access ladder. Leave your bags here. I will secure them for you.”

I look back at him, unsure what to do. He called me a ‘ma’am’. Weird, but I guess it’s better than ‘miss’. I don’t know why, but ‘ma’am’ somehow sounds more respectful. “Umm, thanks, Sergeant Evans, but I think I will need them because the plan is for me to jump out before we land.”

He plugs in his helmet into long, flex cable that is attached to a box on the wall, umm, bulkhead, or is it a fuselage? He glances skeptically back at me as he keys the mic attached to his helmet. “Captain, our rider says she needs her luggage because she plans to jump...did I hear that correctly sir?”

I cannot help it. I accidently, on purpose, listen into his conversation. I am standing right next to him and his hard-line intercom thing is not encrypted. “Button us up and send her up Evans. I have no idea what is going on, but the hanger has two admirals, a general, the Deputy Director of DARPA, a few folks that could be Navy SEALS and our tasking came directly from the Pentagon. If our rider claims she is somehow going to jump out before we land, then it is probably true and above both of our security clearances. So, you never heard her say it and you never officially saw her board, right Sergeant?”

Sergeant Evans stiffens to attention. “Yes sir!” He turns off his mic and shakes his head with confusion. “Okay, sorry ma’am. Wait here while I close us up. I’ll escort you to passenger compartment.”

The big tailgate slowly raises and locks into position with the red light turning green when the door seals.  Sergeant Evans performs a few quick visual checks to confirm the seal and then, he leads me up the stairs and into a large open area directly above the lower cargo deck.  It is a bit noisier in here due to all the men in desert camouflage uniforms shooting the breeze with each other.

My CAC ID system goes bonkers with all the soldiers, oops, sorry, Marines.  There is an entire company sized element strapped down to heavy duty reclining lawn chairs made from cargo netting. Based on the number of Marines sawing logs, I guess they may be kind of comfortable.

As I am led through ‘Marine Country’, the conversation around me dies down as I quickly earn everyone’s undivided attention. Hello, there is a pretty teen girl wearing civilian clothes in the area. Everyone look. She is way more interesting than the back of your buddy’s head. I anxiously smile and wave at them while wishing I had known they were going to be here. I would have tried to bring some cookies for them, or something. Hey, that is not me getting all girlyfied and domestic. I heard that servicemen, and servicewomen, thank you very much, love to get cookies and other home baked goodies when they are deployed.

“This way ma’am.” Sergeant Evans motions for me to follow him forward to a heavy duty hatch or door. I guess the hatch is designed to be airtight because it looks a lot like something you would find on a Navy ship.  Opening the hatch for me, Sergeant Evans offers to help me lift my suitcases over the small lip, but I easily lift them over and into what looks like an airlock.  There is another closed hatch ten feet in front of us with a red light glowing above it. Sergeant Evans closes and secures the hatch we entered and the light above the other hatch turns green.  He opens it and motions for me to follow him down a surprisingly wide hallway that leads to an open area containing a five by five row of first class airline seats, complete with five point safety harnesses. They have got to be way more comfortable than the webbed seats the soldiers are stuck with.

Sergeant Evans appears a little surprised to see Flashback seated in this section with a Marine Full-Bird Colonel, a couple of majors, three Captains and a Sergeant Major sitting as far away from her as possible without looking like they were trying to distance themselves from her. My system automatically reads all their CAC ID cards and helpfully supplies me with their ranks, unit, full names and combines that info with the Mil.Net network, of which, this ship is a node on. It tells me even more stuff I probably should not know about them and their mission to FOB Delaram, Afghanistan.

Oh, there is an alert posted only 29 minutes ago about an increase in suspected Taliban fighters in the town they are going too. Since they were going over op-plans for when they land, I wonder if I should tell the Colonel Braxton about it.

I don’t because one, it would probably freak him out. Two, he will probably check his intel when he lands and three; I don’t want Dr. Edmundson to be given a reminder about limiting my access again.  Is that wrong?

Flashback further surprises Sergeant Evans by standing up and happily motioning me to come join her. “Whisper, over here!”

Her surprise outburst stops the planning session, causing them all to twist around and look at me. With the spotlight on me, I blush and nervously wave hello to them. “Umm, sorry and hi, don’t mind me because if you all need to talk about Top Secret military stuff, I probably wouldn’t understand a word you’re saying.” I lie to them and it looks like they buy it, because Colonel Braxton’s frown turns upside down before he turns back to his men.

Should I tell him? Oh, the hell with it. It would kill me if I hear on the news about some Marines getting surprised and killed.  I detour over to the Colonel’s chair. “Oh, Colonel Braxton, sir?”

He appears a little surprised by me addressing by both name and rank. “Yes, how may I be of service to you, young lady?”

Okay, now I am really feeling nervous because, while he does not look mad at me, he definitely has that aura of command. I almost feel like I should salute him, or something and I am not even in JROTC yet.  “Sorry to bother you sir, but are you going to Afghanistan?”

He quickly glances to his officers before giving me his undivided attention. I expect him to yell at me now because I probably was not supposed to know that, but instead, he gives me one of those patient, children ask the darndest questions kind of smiles. “I can’t really say, but why do you ask?”

“Oh, well, I just heard something on the news about an increase, well; they called it a ‘surge’, of suspected Taliban fighters entering around some place called FOB Delaram. I had never heard of that place before, but it sounds like it could be in Afghanistan. So, I was just wondering...” I trail off as his face slowly transforms itself from patient amusement to steely determination.

He nods once. “I see, and you say you heard this on the news?”

Oh, crap. He knows because there is no way the news would have reported something like this. “Well, not really on the news, more like on some military news website that I stumbled across while I was waiting for them to let me board this thing.” I need a distraction. “Oh, hey, I think my friend is getting kind of impatient. Umm, I’ll just be...” I point to Flashback. “...over there if you need anything, umm, sir. Sorry...” I say as I quickly make my escape.

I leave Colonel Braxton and his men looking extremely stunned. One of the Captains dig into his bag and pulls out a ruggedized laptop. Crap, I shouldn’t have told him that bit of ‘news’.  I am going to be in so much trouble when Mr. Reilly finds out. I try to make myself look very busy with getting my luggage sorted and myself buckled into my chair next to Flashback.

She turns to me once I am finally done. “Hey Kiddo, what was that about?  They all looked kind of surprised there.”

Yep, I am definitely going to be in trouble now. “Oh, I just told them about some news story I saw about Afghanistan. Nothing special...”

“Oh, okay. Well, are you excited yet?” Flashback asks, appearing to buy my story.

“Heel-heck yeah!” I almost said a bad word there, sorry but I am a little excited. She probably is used to riding in super high tech space vehicles. I bet her team has one of those X-Men style jets or something.  “Okay, maybe I am feeling a teensy, tiny bit excited about it.” I laugh at myself.

Flashback smiles at me and I find myself admiring how calm and relaxed she looks. “Since you’re a superhero or something, don’t you get to ride in things like this with your team all the time?”

Flashback chuckles and shakes her head no. “No, not anymore, but back when I was active, we used to use something like this to get around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you still might be a hero. You don’t look that old to me.” I cringe as I finish saying that. Good job Bree, open mouth and insert foot.

Flashback’s eyes sparkle with amusement as she laughs at my faux pas. “Well, thanks. I am kind of glad you feel that way.” She glances interestedly around the passenger area. “I have to admit the new stuff is pretty damn cool though. This monster is probably twenty times larger than the little thing my team used.”

Phew! I am glad she isn’t mad at me for calling her old, but now, I feel a little intimidated. Flashback is like a grizzled veteran compared to me. “Oh, okay. So, about this teleportation thing...”

She smiles at me. “No, it doesn’t hurt, kiddo.”

“Oh, phew! I was worried.” Another thought hits me. “What about our inertia?” Flashback looks at me curiously. “I mean, we will be moving pretty fast up there. What happens to all of our inertia?”

She blinks with surprise and then, shrugs her shoulders. “Good question, but it just works. No one really understands how it works, it just does.”

“Attention, this is your Captain speaking. On behalf of the United States Air Force, I would like to welcome you all aboard our ‘little’ toy hauler.” He paused for a second to chuckle once at his euphemism. “We will achieve zero-g during our flight and due to our trajectory; we will have a good 10 minutes of zero-G, inner ear confusion. Please have a barf bag ready because no one likes to be puked on and the crew hates the cleanup.  Thank you and we will begin our 10 second lift off countdown in 30 seconds. If you are not strapped down, please do so at this time.”

Gosh, this is so exciting! I just hope I don’t barf because I really want to play in zero-G. It looks like so much fun when they show the astronauts playing around in the space station or during rides to the moon base. I glance back over to Flashback. “Umm, when will we be, you know, leaving?”

“Don’t worry Whisper. We will stay until they start re-entry. I wanna play in zero-G too.” She giggles at me.

Oh, that is a relief, but now, I feel a little anxious and curious about the dropship. A slight vibration begins to slowly build. What in the heck is happening?

>VIK Interface....found!

>Connect? [Y]/n

Whoa! I have never used the Vehicle Integration Kit before. I wonder what it does, exactly.  Okay, Yes, connect please.

>Initializing....

I do not have long to wait as my vision is overlaid with all sorts of instruments. I see radar screens, navigations screens, communications systems, throttle position sensors, flight control sensors, external camera views, weapons systems, power systems and more.  It is like the Black Hawk helicopter, but easier. I sure hope I can’t mess with any of those. You know, by accident, because that would be bad.

>Read-Only mode activated!

Oh crap! Thank god I thought about that. Wait, I could have taken over and flown this thing?!?!  This VIK thing is too cool.

{“Tower, this is Air Force Heavylift Charlie X-ray zero two alpha...nav is locked. Ready to begin countdown on your mark.”}

{“Charlie X-ray zero two alpha. Affirmative. Window opening in three, two, one, mark!”}

I anxiously watch as the Captain engages the throttles, causing the entire ship to vibrate like a car driving over a cobblestone street. I expected it to be a lot worse, but I am distracted when Flashback reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a good squeeze as we lift straight off the ground like a helicopter. At first, we are all gently pushed back into our seats we slowly begin to pick up speed when the ship simultaneously begins to move forward. The gentle squeeze turns into a heavy kick in the pants as the floor quickly tilts from zero degrees to 70 degrees and the rear engines go to full throttle. Now, the vibration is more like I expected it to be.  It feels like I am riding on one of those old wooden roller coasters that shake, rattle and bang their way around the tracks. Flashback squeezes my hand even tighter. Wow, she has a pretty strong grip.

I look over to her and she has her eyes tightly shut with her jaw is clenched. She is the last person I expected to be worried about the take off. “Don’t worry, all systems are green. Nothing ttooo...” I stutter a bit as we hit a rough section of track on our super duper roller coaster of doom. “...worry about!”

“Hehe, yeah, I know, but take offs always get me.” Flashback lets off a little on the hand pressure.

I watch as the altimeter starts climbing, it goes slowly at first, but rapid picks up speed until the numbers are whizzing by. 1,000 feet takes a few seconds, but 2,000 is faster, 3,4,5, 10, 15, 25 fly past as we continue up under a constant 3.0 G’s of acceleration, just like I remember reading about the old Space Shuttle launches.

{“Oh, that MCO bogey is flying a little sloppy back there Captain.”}  The weapons officer calmly notes over the crew intercom.

I focus on the radar and tracking systems, spotting the MCO ‘bogey’.  It is climbing pretty rapidly, so I am not sure what the weapons officer meant by ‘sloppy’.

{“Yeah, command warned me about them. Keep an eye on them and warn me if they do anything aggressive or if they break off.”}

{“Yes sir.”}

“Hey, Whisper, are ya there?” Flashback shakes my arm to get my attention. With the G’s we are pushing, waving her hand in front of my face would probably be a bit hard unless she had super strength.

I could twist my body to face her directly, but it is easier to simply turn my face to look at her. “Umm, yes, sorry. What’s up?”

“I asked you if you thought the MCO was following us.”

“Oh, yeah, they are, but the weapons officer says they are flying a little ‘sloppy’, or something.”

Flashback’s eyes open with surprise before narrowing as she considers my information. “What? How?”

Uh oh. “Umm, I am kind of listening in on their radios?”

Flashback purses her lips. “You do know that they don’t use radios, right?”

I can only nod my head in agreement.

She starts to say something, but pauses and tries to shake her head before realizing it would take too much effort to pull it off. “Okay, I guess I can kind of see why Mr. Reilly is so worried about you...”

I do not think I am that bad.  Really, I know I would not abuse my powers. Well, not on purpose anyway.

“Transition coming up in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...”

The engines throttle down, then to zero while the nose drops to more of a level flight path, causing everything in the cabin to start floating.  Yippie! I look sneak a peek at the Marine officers and Colonel Braxton does not look happy. He reaches for the barf bag as he mutters. “I hate this part...”

Sergeant Evans enters the cabin, slowly flying like he has super powers. “We have ten minutes before we begin our descent and counter burn. You may now fly freely around the cabin, but be careful, gentlemen...” He skips a beat before he remembers we are in the cabin. “...and ladies because inertia can hurt.”

It is a lot of fun flying around the cabin and I am so glad I have leggings under my skirt because I would be so upset if I had to worry about flashing my pan-underwear at everyone as I bounced and flipped off the walls, sorry, bulkheads. It only takes a little force to cause a big change in direction. My reactions are pretty darn good and even Flashback looks a little jealous at how easy I am making it look.  It is so fun doing barrel rolls and zooming all over the room. I wish I could fly for real because flight would be such a cool power to have.

A couple of the braver and younger officers join in and we have some fun playing with water bottles by squirting a little out and gulping the floating drops down.  Sadly, all the fun has to end sometime. I spot Flashback wave at me to join her.  “Grab your luggage. It’s time to bail.”

“Ahhh...but this is so much fun!” I grin as I fly down to grab my luggage.  I get a little too cocky because pulling out my luggage causes me to temporarily lose control and bounce off the ceiling. “Ow...”

Flashback grabs me and helps get me steadied.  “Thanks...” I blush, feeling embarrassed.

I glance over at Colonel Braxton and his crew and discover they are all looking at the two of us with interest. I am still a little nervous about my intel dump, but Flashback waves at them before turning to Sergeant Evans. “Thanks for the ride. Give my compliments to the Captain.”  Finally, she glances over to me and whispers. “Ya might wanna close your eyes for this next part...”

~o~O~o~

Master Sergeant Frank Evans had done and seen a lot in his 15 year career in the U.S. Air Force, but the last two years as the loadmaster for the Air Force’s new CX-5 Super Heavy Lift Star Master was the cherry on top of a delicious fudge sundae. He was very proud at being the first authorized wearer of the Air Force’s Enlisted Mission Specialist Astronaut Badge. Based on that, he felt confident he would get his second ‘hump’ and be promoted to Senior Master Sergeant within a year.

As the loadmaster and senior enlisted crewmember, he was used to assisting with and giving tours of his baby to Generals, Foreign heads of state, Senators, Governors, wealthy businessmen, their significant and not so significant others, but his latest passenger was an utter mystery to him and the rest of the crew. He did not know what to make of the young and very pretty teenage girl who calmly walked out of the F-22 Raptor hanger towing behind her luggage as if she was boarding a commercial flight because if the rumor mill was correct, this teenage girl was anything but ordinary.

Soon after they had set down at Langley AFB, Captain Everhart reported from the cockpit that multiple cars with stars on their flags were pulling into the hanger. He and the crew had been informed they were there to pick up two additional special passengers, but they were not to speak to anyone about it. The operation was blacker than black.  Forty-five minutes later, this young slip of a girl was boarding his craft and no one came running out of the hanger to try and stop her. He expected a second passenger, but was told to button her up and prepare for takeoff as soon as the girl stepped foot in his cargo bay. That told him she had a lot of brass behind her and that data point made him even more nervous because the rumor mill was also saying that the President was directly involved.

Now, he watched with open amusement as the girl, whose name he still did not know, but had overheard her being called, Whisper, giddily and with rapidly increasing confidence flew around the cabin. She bounced off the bulkheads, performed flips and barrel rolls with a joy that was infectious. A few of the jar heads were also unable to completely suppress their delight in the young girl’s antics and eventually, they began to encourage her to play by pulling out some water bottles to make zero-g water bubbles.

Officially, he was supposed to prevent such tomfoolery, but small drops of water were much easier to clean up than barf. So, he let it slide because the girl and the jar heads were having fun. He shuddered involuntarily at the memory of the last barf cleanup party he had to supervise and assist some of the junior enlisted crew with.

The other woman who had appeared, as if by magic, in the VIP passenger cabin was also a mystery. When he asked, he was informed that she was their second passenger, but how did she get on board without anyone spotting her? Regardless of that mystery, the woman appeared to be enjoying her time in zero-G. Unlike the girl, she was much more subdued and cautious, but he could tell she had some experience in zero-G by the economy of her movements. With one minute to go before counter burn began and the return of gravity, the woman called the girl over to her.

He winced sympathetically when the girl over corrected and bounced off the top of the compartment when she pulled out her luggage. It was an easy mistake to make and she was not hurt, so it was not worth giving her a gentle safety reminder. He was more curious about what the pair thought they were doing.  Did they think their ride was about to land? He was about to warn them to get buckled in when the woman looked at him.

“Thanks for the ride. Give my compliments to the Captain.” She said with a grin as her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Next, she leaned over and whispered something to the girl before looking back up, then, with a wink towards the confused Sergeant Evans and the rest of the curious ground pounders, she, the girl and the girl’s luggage simply disappeared.

“Deceleration burn beginning in 30 seconds!” Captain Everhart announced of the craft’s intercom.

“Crap!” Sergeant Evans gave the empty area the two had been standing one last glance before he scrambled back to his acceleration couch and buckled in.  “I wonder where they went?” He muttered softly just before the G forces pressed him into the cushions.

~o~O~o~

I rapidly close my eyes, but I still see a bright flash followed by a little less than a second of vertigo, 0.823 seconds to be exact. I am not sure where the ‘light’ came from, because it felt more like a thousand microscopic flashbulbs all going off at once. Further evidence of Flashback’s teleportation power destroying the bonds that hold my atoms together.

I blink my eyes a few times to try to try and clear my vision, but when I stop blinking, I discover a few things. One, while it was somehow bright, it did not hurt to have all my atoms blasted through space, or whatever, and two, I am now standing in front of a desk and inside a neat and tidy office.  An older, maybe 35 year old, beautiful, blond haired woman is sitting behind the desk, wearing what I would consider ‘professional’ attire. A white blouse with a dark grey jacket, subtle makeup, limited jewelry and she has a phone to her ear.

“Thanks Nick, they just arrived and I have all of her paperwork. I’ll take care of everything.”  She smiles a greeting to us as she hangs up the phone.

Who is she? The marble name plate sitting on the front of her desk simply reads “Mrs. Carson”, but she can’t be her.  She must be Mrs. Carson’s secretary because she is way too young to be the Headmistress of this place.

I glance around, spotting the closed door behind us. I kind of expect this Mrs. Carson woman to open it up and come through any second now.  The woman regains my attention when she abruptly stands and holds her hand out to Flashback. “Flashback, nice to see you again.”

“Good to see you again too Liz. I expected to see more gray hair from attempting to manage this place.” Flashback says with a grin as she shakes the woman’s hand.

I guess they know each other because this ‘Liz’ woman fondly laughs at Flashback’s remark. Due to her shaking Flashback’s hand, I kind of expect her to shake my hand too, but instead, she simply nods politely at me and gestures to the two guest chairs positioned in front of the desk. “Miss Peters...”

“Well, I hate to pop in and run, but I have a few more ‘deliveries’ to make. Liz, it was nice seeing ya again. Whisper...” Flashback gives me a friendly little nod and a pat on my back. “It was nice meeting you and your family.  I think you will enjoy it here. Have fun!”  She waves one more time and simple disappears. No flash of light, sound or smell of sulphur to make it cool.  Her teleportation thing is actually a little lacking in the special effects department.

With Flashback gone, ‘Liz’ returns to behind Mrs. Carson’s desk and sits back down in the chair like she owns it. I feel a little awkward and unsure what to say or how to address her because I am pretty sure that addressing her as ‘Liz’ would sound like I was being too familiar with her. I mean, she might only be a secretary, but she is still an adult. She kind of looks familiar to me though. Where have I seen her before?

>Scanning for matching facial features...Match found!

>Lady Astarte, Ms. Elizabeth Amelia Carson, Divorced in 1995. Previous aliases are Miss Champion, Lady Champion, Comet Queen, Ms. Might

>24-JUN-2004 18:12:32.0283 while viewing “Famous Superheroes and Villains. Where are they now?”

Oh yeah! Now I remember watching that show with my dad when I was 12, or so.  Holy crap!  No way, she is Mrs. Carson?!? If she is divorced, why does her name plaque still have “Mrs.” as her title?

I am a little distracted from that question when The Lady Astarte turns to me with an enigmatic smile. “Welcome to Whateley Academy, Miss Peters. I am Mrs. Carson, Headmistress. My staff and I are looking forward to assisting you reach your potential.” Her lips press together as she leans slightly toward me. “Now young lady...”

I wince at her address. It does not sound like a promising start. My parents only call my sister a ‘young lady’ or me ‘young man’, well, called me that, when we are in trouble.

“I understand you have had quite the little ‘adventure’ reaching my humble school.” Mrs. Carson takes some of the sting out of her previous address by giving me a small smile to let me know she isn’t mad at me. I hope so anyway.

She leans back in her chair, keeping her eyes focused on me. “Not as uncommon of a situation as you might imagine...” She tilts her chair forward and opens a thin manila folder that has my name, “Brianna Nicole Peters/Whisper” neatly printed on the tab. Inside is my application form, all filled out and signed by my mom, Mr. Reilly and Mrs. Carson.

I relax a little because this is more what I was expecting. Simple administrative stuff where she maybe has me look over and sign some additional things, nothing to worry about. She calmly leafs through a few pages and stops at a sheet with the header of “Mentor Assignment”. Sir Wallace’s name is printed there, along with Fey.  There is also a small paragraph in Sir Wallace’s handwriting that while initially a little hard to read from my position, once I scan it, flip it and expand it in my HUD; I find out it is Sir Wallace’s appraisal of my magic powers. This could be bad.

“I am glad that Sir Wallace saw fit to evaluate you and you should also consider yourself very fortunate that he is also willing to take you under his wing. However; I see that you have also met Fey and share a common heritage with her, correct?”  Mrs. Carson raises her from the paper and looks expectantly at me.

“Yes, ma’am.” I decide to keep the answers simple because I am not sure why she brought up Nikki, I mean Fey and our Sidhe heritage.

“I see.” She nods her head and purses her lips.

What? I only said yes. I know Sara warned me to stay away from her and take it slow with Nikki, but did I somehow let Mrs. Carson know I’m friends with Nikki and she now considers me her cousin?  Is Mrs. Carson going to tell me to stay away from Nikki too?

“Nikki spoke to me after her visit.  She had nothing but good things to say about you, but she did let it slip that you were her cousin now. Is that correct?”  Mrs. Carson asks even though she obviously already knows the answer.

“Yes, ma’am. We aren’t really related, but Aunt Aunghadhail kinda ‘adopted’ me.” I probably say too much, but at least I don’t tell her Aunt Aung also called me her ‘champion’.

Mrs. Carson’s eyes flare with astonishment and she leans back into her chair with groan. “Great, please tell me you don’t plan on letting everyone know you are cousins...”

I know I shouldn’t be surprised because both Nikki and Sara warned me about how popular Nikki is at this school, but I am sort of surprised by Mrs. Carson’s reaction. “Well, I wasn’t planning on it.  Sara-” Crap. I wasn’t supposed to let anyone know that I know Sara.

Mrs. Carson jerks as if I just hit her with a thousand volts of electricity. “What did you just say!? Please, please tell me you don’t know Sara Waite, aka Carmilla.”

Sara’s last name is Waite and her code name is Carmilla? Well, I didn’t know that. “Umm, no?  I don’t know anyone named ‘Sara Waite’, why?” I very carefully ask because it sounds like Mrs. Carson would not be happy if I told her I knew Sara.

Mrs. Carson sighs with relief. “Good, because it is probably best if you didn’t know her.”

Now, I am a little confused. Why does everyone hate her so much?

Mrs. Carson notices my expression and sighs. “You’ll probably see her; she is friends with Nikki and even sort of resembles her due to a botched attempt on her life. She and Nikki now consider themselves as Blood sisters since it was Nikki’s blood some idiots thought would poison and kill Sara. I recommend that when you do see her, that you are not seen as being too friendly with her, it could cause problems for you and the school, okay?”

I slowly nod my head with agreement while I mull over the latest data point regarding Sara’s ‘popularity’ at this school. Wow, someone tried to kill her with Nikki’s blood. That sounds totally crazy. Why do people hate Sara so much?  What if Mrs. Carson finds out I sort of lied to her about knowing Sara?

I sigh with frustration. Darn Cub Scouts and that pledge they made me take about being ‘morally straight’.  See, that is why I am such a bad liar. Well, that and because my mom is an empath.

Mrs. Carson looks so hopeful and pleased by my initial answer. Why can’t I let her be happy? “Oh, that ‘Sara’. I’m sorry; I didn’t know her last name was Waite...” I pause when Mrs. Carson surprises me with a little moan or maybe it was a whimper.

“Go on...” She patiently motions for me to continue.

“Well, the Sara I know is kind of this pretty Goth vampire demon goo thing and her Dad, Gothmog, is kind of my Uncle now and he really wants to meet me, but she can’t be this Sara Waite/Carmilla person you’re worried about, can she?” I ask while Mrs. Carson slowly lowers her head and presses her hands against her temples.

She looks a little upset with me. Maybe I should have ignored that outdated little Cub Scout motto? I mean, it didn’t say anything specifically about ‘lying’ and I can’t really be in the Boy Scouts and continue working on my Cub Scout badges anymore either.

“Mrs. Carson, are you okay?” I ask because she is starting to make me worried about her.

She straightens herself back up, calmly closes my folder and looks me in the eyes with almost a pleading expression. “Okay, that was...unexpected, but please tell me you aren’t planning on trying to join either Team Kimba or Sara’s Pack?”

I am pretty sure I know the correct answer to this question and even better, I don’t have to lie or try to lie about it. “No ma’am. Sorry...” Feeling a little ashamed about stressing her out and not keeping my mouth shut, I glance down at my legs as I softly answer. “Sara warned me about being seen with her and how popular Nikki is here. My plan is to simply learn, do the JROTC thing and go home this summer to be with my family.”

I look back up at Mrs. Carson. She is thoughtfully studying me and I think she looks a little less stressed now. “I see, well, I will just have to see what I can do to assist you with that plan.” She perks back up, reaches back into my folder, extracts two, nearly identical forms titled, ‘Quarters Assignment’.  She sets them, side by side, on her desk and looks back to me.  “Stand up for me please.”

Now, I am getting worried.  Why does she have two forms for me?  One has “Cottage: Poe” and the other as “Cottage: Whitman”.  I anxiously smooth my skirt and not wanting to cross my arms against my chest because it might make me look as impatient, I hold them behind my back.

Mrs. Carson purses her lips and narrows her eyes as she studies me.  “Could you get me the SAT study guide book from the shelf over there?” She points to a bookshelf on off to my right and about 10 feet, 2.83 meters, okay 9.3 feet from me.

I return with the requested book and set it on her desk.  That seems to make up her mind as Mrs. Carson nods once, more to herself than me. “Thanks.”  She hands me the Whitman form. “Okay, please take this and give it to Ms. Hartford. She will send for someone to escort you to your cottage.”

I spare a quick glance over the form. It is mostly filled out and signed by Mrs. Carson, but no room number has been assigned to me.

Mrs. Carson notices my gaze. “Yes, you will be assigned a room based on the house mother’s recommendation.” Still sitting, she rests her hands on her desk, clasped together like a fist in front of her. “Now, I realize with what I am about to say to you that I am probably not being fair, but in light of who you already know here; Please try not to model your first week here based on your friend’s first week and try not to get into a fight with a Ninja army like they did.”

Pulling my suitcases behind me, I trip a little on my way to the door as both her plea and the ninja thing takes me by surprise. “Umm, okay?” I hesitantly agree with her because I wouldn’t want to fight off a ninja army either. Why would an army of ninjas invade a school and why does just knowing Sara and Nikki make Mrs. Carson think I will get into trouble with an army of anything? Okay, maybe an H1 or MCO army, but it would not be my fault!

[The End of Book One]

** Epilogue **

MCO Special Agent Lanier felt abso-fucking-lutely furious.  He had just spent the last 43 hours, almost two full days, as an observer, crammed inside the tiny MCO scout ship as it trailed the Air Force’s monster dropship all over the freaking world in an attempt to find out where the U.S. Government was taking their little pet mutant. Only to have all his time, the MCO’s money and equipment usage completely and utterly wasted.

They easily spotted the young human girl, who resembled their target, suitcases in tow, walk across the tarmac and disappear inside the CX-5, but she never exited the damn thing! What in the hell happened to her and where did she go?  Was she living inside the fucking ship now or did she somehow sneak out with the Marines when they landed in Afghanistan?  He had already pored over the footage in an attempt to spot a girl dressed up in a Marine uniform, but no luck there.  It was as if she had never boarded the fucking craft, except he had proof that she had!

She had to be a fucking shape shifter, or else the girl had been a decoy, but that still did not answer his question of what happened to the girl.  He briefly debated attempting to get permission to storm and search the CX-5 after the crew had locked it down, but he knew there would be zero possibility of that course of action being approved, or even considered as sane.  He would have probably been kicked out of the MCO if he had even suggested it.

He knew he was borderline, or maybe beyond it, obsessed with Whisper, but he hated mystery mutants and secret government programs with a passion. It was one of those secret government programs that got his brother killed 10 years ago.  The military thought they finally had a super soldier serum perfected and his brother volunteered, yeah, right. His brother was a fuck up who had been promoted to Sergeant twice, been busted down to Private three times and was a whisker away from being booted from the Army when he suddenly ‘volunteered’ for some secret program.

It looked like the serum worked. For two years after he ‘volunteered’, his brother was a changed man, in more ways than one. Not only was he super strong, fast and nearly invisible, he was also a model soldier who was quickly promoted from Private all the way back to Sergeant for his strong leadership qualities.  All that came crashing down the day he snapped and went on a rampage in a crowded shopping mall, killing 10 and wounding 15 others before an MCO Fast Reaction Squad was finally able to bring him down.

It took Agent Lanier years of digging and using his MCO contacts to find out what really happened to his brother.  At first, he hated the MCO for killing his brother, but once he learned the truth; his hatred shifted to the government for making his brother into the monster that was still used as an example for why the MCO needs to exist.

So, if this Whisper girl or person was part of some new secret government program, he had to find out what it was and stop it before it was too late.  Before she snapped liked his brother did and killed a bunch of innocent people. Since the government had proven itself incompetent and responded by covering things up, it was his duty, as an officer of the MCO, to find and eliminate this threat before it was too late.

First, he had to find her. If she had not been fooling everyone with her age, she was young and that could only mean one thing, she had to be at that fucking school, Whateley.  He grinned with anticipation. Yes, this could be the lever the MCO could use to finally get that abomination closed down for good.  With Whateley closed, those fucking mutants would have nowhere to hide and no one would dare try to protect the freaks.

To do that, he needed to get someone into Whateley, a spy, but he did not have one of those available or even know where he might get one.  The MCO was a large organization, there had to be a solution because he knew of several mutant organizations that had been infiltrated by specially trained and loyal MCO mutants in the past. It didn’t matter if they sometimes died in the process, at least their deaths helped humanity.

His old commander was stationed out west somewhere and was running some super secret mutant research facility. Perhaps he would know or know someone who would be willing to help?

Happy for the first time in days, Special Agent Lanier pulled up his contacts list and sent Colonel David ‘Buster’ Fairbanks an email.  Oh yes, he had a good feeling about this course of action.