Synopsis:

Brandi’s enemies have fired the first shots, but are they ready for her kind of war? Inside the lab where she was created, she uncovers the startling truth about a tragedy in her past, that threatens to unleash her destructive nature. Will she cross that line and become the thing she fears most?   Part 5 of 5

Warning: Contains no graphic sexual content but does include adult language, situations and violent action scenes.

Story:

Genomorph Part 5 of 5

By Breanna Ramsey

Edited by Carla  Winters and Amelia R.

  

CHAPTER 49

All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.

Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.

Sun Tzu — The Art of War

  

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28 2005

1800 EST

  

“We’re going to let them take Melissa,” Brandi repeated, “and then when they demand it, I am going to surrender.”

Brandi wondered if Sun Tzu would be impressed or just laugh. There was certainly plenty of disorder; the problem was it was not feigned. Everyone stared at her for about five seconds to see if she was serious, and then they all started talking at once. Only Melissa remained silent, and Brandi could see that she was trying very hard not to burst into giggles. The fact that she knew Melissa was terrified by what she was proposing and still found the situation funny made her love the girl even more.

Brandi stood there and listened impassively for a few seconds; she had no problem at all following what everyone was saying. She was being reckless; it was too great a risk to Melissa; there was too much at stake for her to go it alone. Finally, she decided it was time to put a stop to it.

“Enough!” she bellowed loudly enough to cut through the cacophony and silence them all.

“I appreciate your concerns, I really do,” she continued once everyone had settled down. “If you will do me the courtesy of listening to the whole plan, I’ll continue.”

Brandi paused just long enough to make sure they were going to listen, and then pressed forward.

“The only way to be sure we get the information we need and stop them from sending the signal to activate their plan is from the inside. The lab complex is a hardened bunker a hundred feet underground. There are only three ways in; the main elevator, the freight elevator and the escape shaft. Of the three, only the escape shaft is even close to viable; the elevators would be suicide.”

Brandi paused again to let her words sink in. It was not like she was telling them anything they did not already know, but they needed to understand that she had considered all the possibilities.

“If I was just trying to go it alone, I could; I could get in there on my own,” she continued. “I could slip into the escape shaft and make it down without them even knowing I was there.”

“Brandi, it’s true you could disrupt the cameras in the shaft,” Susan said, “but surely they would notice when they began malfunctioning one by one.”

“I, um, have sorta learned to do a bit more than that,” Brandi said. “I’ve been practicing. I can make the video signal loop for a few seconds as I pass by.”

“Where did you practice this?” Susan asked, noticing Brandi was very uncomfortable about the subject.

“At the mall,” Melissa said, grinning mischievously.

“Oh Brandi, you didn’t,” Susan said.

“Aww, Mom!” Brandi whined. “Everybody does it. Besides I took it all back.”

Melissa raised her eyebrows and Brandi amended her statement, “Well, most of it anyway. Anything I kept I paid for.”

“How did you pay for clothing you shoplifted?”

“She broke in after the mall was closed and left the receipts and the cash at each of the stores,” Melissa said. She was trying very hard not to laugh at Brandi’s discomfort.

“Broke in is kinda harsh,” Brandi said. “I didn’t damage anything, and I left a really nice tip at each of the stores. I don’t see what the big deal is; it’s not like I robbed a bank.”

“Just a gun store,” Melissa said.

“Brandi!” Susan gasped.

“Perhaps we could get back to the matter at hand?” Admiral Hammerstein said, amusement evident in his eyes despite his stony expression.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Brandi said, turning to stick her tongue out at Melissa.

“We will talk about this later, young lady,” Susan said.

“Yes ma’am,” Brandi said meekly. She turned and winked at Melissa, thankful for the tension breaker, and then continued explaining her plan.

“The point is that even though I could get into the lab, there’s a very good chance I would be spotted. If I had to neutralize any guards, they would be missed quickly. If I was spotted, it would all be over; they would lock down the control complex and send the signal. For the same reason, using the boys to create a diversion won’t work; once the shooting started, they would send the signal. The only certain way to get me inside where I can do what has to be done is for them to take me inside as their prisoner.”

“And the only way they will do that is if they have me to keep Brandi under control,” Melissa said.

“Melissa you know what that means,” Amanda said.

Melissa nodded, “Don’t let my calm exterior fool you; this scares the hell out of me. They will probably use one of those programmer things on me…or worse. I have faith in Brandi though; I know she’ll bring me back.”

“All right, so maybe this is the only way,” Matt said reluctantly. “But just how do you plan on arranging things so they can get to Melissa?”

“Brandi doesn’t have to arrange anything,” Susan said. “They will use me.”

  

*****

“We should go immediately,” Evan Mitchell urged.

They sat in the Man’s office, now transferred to the lab in Nevada. The entire site was locked down, and a security force of fifty men was in fortified positions on the surface. The men were little more than mercenaries, brought in to augment the regular security detachment, which had been withdrawn into the massive underground complex. If the girl attempted to breach the perimeter, the elevators and stairwell could be locked down, making the lab virtually impregnable.

“I agree, sir. We should activate the sleepers we have in place and go from there,”   Reginald Mercer said.

“I think that would be foolish,” Barbara Currant said. “So much has been invested already. The rest of the sleeper programming will be in place by Monday. It will take a day to upload the latest program changes to the satellites after that. If we go on Wednesday night, everything will be in place.”

“That’s five days away,” Mercer said. “The girl is still out there.”

“We are locked down, with no one entering or leaving the complex,” Currant said. The statement was not entirely accurate, as the facility was receiving supply shipments three times a week.

“Even if she tried to force her way in here, we would have plenty of time to send the signal,” Currant continued. “If you’re that concerned, we could always have the Pentagon assign regular troops here to augment the security personnel.”

“What do we tell them?” Evans asked. “A platoon of Navy SEALs and a psychotic Playboy Playmate are going to attack us? The whole reason we have an independent security force is so we don’t have the military looking too closely at this place. My men know the score.”

“If you would use that machine on me and my men,” Mitchell said, “we would be more than a match for her. With those nano things in us we ….”

“Do you choose not to listen, or are you just deaf?” Currant cut in. “The nano-cyborgs are created and introduced by the components on the GMU that create a Genomorph. Those components were damaged when Dr. Covington attempted to reverse the process and restore Brandon Anderson. The best we could do is genetically optimize your bodies.”

“And what does that mean?” Mitchell asked.

“It means you would be a perfect male specimen,” Currant said, holding up her hand to forestall the next question. “It would not make your men faster or stronger; it would make them capable of becoming faster and stronger. Perhaps, after six months to a year of intense training, they could realize that potential.”

“The girl was stronger and faster as soon as she awoke,” Mercer pointed out.

Currant sighed. “Yes, that is because the GMU altered her more radically through the Genomorph components. Also, she has the nano-cyborgs, which constantly repair and tune her body. It may be possible to construct a program that would result in, perhaps, a twenty to thirty percent increase in a subject’s agility and strength immediately upon completion, but I will not make any promises.”

“That is something I would like you to look into, Dr. Currant,” the Man said. “Now, however, we must determine a course of action for dealing with the Genomorph.”

“Use Susan Covington,” Currant said. “We know where they are; her girlfriend too. If we activate Covington, she can grab the girlfriend and bring her to our people. The Genomorph will have to do as we say.”

“Covington wouldn’t stand a chance against her.” Mercer laughed.

“Do you honestly believe she would hurt her ‘mother’?” Currant countered. “She’ll acquiesce, thinking it will buy her time and put her in a position to reverse the programming.”

“Dr. Currant is right,” The Man said. “We will proceed as planned. Have Dr. Covington activated locally. When she makes contact, we’ll give her instructions to secure the Barlowe girl.”

“We have to get a transmitter to Virginia,” Mercer said

“See to it,” The Man said. “I want the Genomorph in this facility by Tuesday night.”

The Man turned his attention to a stack of papers on his desk, and the others left the office. As Mercer was almost out the door, he was stopped by his superior’s voice.

“Don’t fail me again, Agent Mercer.”

  

*****

“Who was that babe?”

Cyndi Fallon set the cordless phone back in its charging stand and looked up at her girlfriend, Renee, her face drawn.

“It was Melissa; they’re all right,” she said.

“Thank God,” Renee sighed. “It took her long enough to call.”

“Pack a bag,” Cyndi said. “Pack enough for a week, and call Amber and tell her to do the same. Melissa and Brandi want us to get out of here, go upstate and find a hotel and lay low until they contact us again … just in case.”

Cyndi walked quickly to the kitchen counter and grabbed a set of keys. As she headed for the door, Renee called out to her.

“Where are you going?”

“Melissa said there’s an envelope in her gig bag in the van,” Cyndi said. “She said to take what’s in there and get out.”

Renee rushed from the living room to their bedroom and began grabbing clothes for both of them and stuffing them into a pair of suitcases. She had hardly started when Cyndi returned from the garage, a thick manila envelope in her hand.

“What is it?” Renee asked.

Cyndi reached into the envelope and pulled out a bundle of hundred dollar bills.

“Five thousand dollars in cash,” she said.

They finished packing and loaded their luggage into Renee’s car; the van was full of the band’s equipment and was too conspicuous anyway. They drove in silence towards Amber’s apartment. Renee knew that Cyndi was struggling with her feelings, and finally broke the silence.

“Are you OK, babe?”

“I don’t know,” Cyndi said. “Do you think Brandi knows I wasn’t really angry with her?”

“She knows,” Renee said. “Melissa and Karen know too.”

“I should have told them a long time ago about that night,” Cyndi said. “I jumped on them about not trusting us, and here I’ve been hiding from the truth for years.”

“Cyndi, you went through hell … we both did,” Renee said. “We’re still dealing with it even now.”

“I know,” Cyndi said. “When this is all over, I’m want to tell them everything.”

Renee reached over and squeezed Cyndi’s hand.

“I’ll be right there by your side when you do.”

  

*****

Dear Mom,

I’m delaying this email for reasons which will be obvious by the time you get it.

Sometimes I really hate who I am. I’m not talking about the transformation, I’m talking about the person I was born, and I know now beyond a doubt, I still am at the core.

Brandon was a very lonely person. I can say that now because I can look back at his life through new eyes. He had friends; he had romances, but he always held a large part of himself back. He never really opened up to anyone; that’s probably why none of those romances ever worked out. We girls like it when the person we love opens up to us; more than that, we need it.

What made him that way is still in me; it’s why I am who and what I am. It’s that ability to do what has to be done, regardless of the cost to myself, or to those I love. To quote Mr. Spock, ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one”. That is the very epitome of self-sacrifice that is at the very heart of those who serve in the military.

It really sucks.

Please don’t get me wrong, I am proud of what I did as Brandon. I am proud of every man and woman who makes the decision that the well-being and security of society is their personal responsibility. What sucks is that we have to do it at all.

It’s hard being the one who looks at an injustice and has to do something about it. It’s hard to be the one who weighs a situation and says, ‘This is an acceptable sacrifice if it gets the job done’. And now I have to do it again.

I know what has to be done, and I know how to do it. I have to put two people I love so much at terrible risk, and I have to deceive the people I respect the most. I pray when this is all over that they, and you most of all, will be able to forgive me.

Brandi

After the meeting in the parlor, which Brandi had taken to calling the Boudoir of War, everyone had scattered. Matt and the Chief were back in the guest house with the rest of the SEALs. Ryan was busy at his computer, although Brandi had noted that Gretchen was not anywhere to be seen, so maybe Ryan was busy with something else. She smiled at the thought and hoped the two were enjoying each other’s company.

The Admiral and Amanda had informed them that they would be leaving for Washington early Monday morning to try to get some kind of action. They had to be cautious, because anything that alerted the organization could provoke them into sending the signal to activate the sleepers.

Melissa was waiting for her upstairs in the bedroom, but Brandi had something she had to do before she joined her. She found Susan in the office Amanda had provided for her, assembling some documents for Amanda and the Admiral to take with them.

“Mom, are you busy?”

Susan swiveled her chair around and smiled at Brandi. She would never get tired of hearing this beautiful girl call her Mom.

“I’m never too busy for you, sweetheart,” Susan said. “What’s on your mind?”

Brandi opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. She looked very vulnerable and uncertain, and Susan needed no special insight to understand that she wanted to talk about something serious. Rising from the desk chair, she walked over to the sofa in the office and sat down.

“Come here, and tell me about it.”

Brandi sat next to Susan, and they held hands as Susan waited for Brandi to speak.

“A lot is going to happen in the next few days, and when it starts, it will all happen very fast,” Brandi said. “So I wanted to say this to you, because I owe it to you, and I owe it…to Brandon.”

Susan could see that Brandi was struggling to hold back tears, and began to suspect she knew what Brandi wanted to say…what she needed to say.

“Brandon…Brandon loved you,” she said as the floodgates opened and her tears flowed. “He loved you, and he … I was just too wrapped up in my own problems to say it. I am so sorry, Susan … I wasted the time we could have had.”

“Shhh,” Susan soothed, pulling Brandi’s head to her breast and rocking her as she sobbed. “It’s all right, honey, I knew how you felt. I felt the same way and didn’t say anything either; I’m as much to blame as either of us for what might have been.”

Brandi pulled back, shaking her head. “No you’re not. I would have just shut you out. I was such an asshole. I let myself wallow in self pity and blinded myself to what was right there all the time.”

“You had been through a terrible ordeal,” Susan said. “You were still going through it; I understood that. You always downplayed the damage to your…genitals, but I knew better. You couldn’t see yourself as a man anymore.

“Then I came along with the promise of a miracle, and all I succeeded in doing was taking it all away completely.”

“No!” Brandi protested. “Don’t you see you gave me life? Brandon was dead; he died that night in Iraq. Even if I could go back to being a man, I wouldn’t do it now. I wouldn’t trade the life I have to be Brandon again. My only regret is you…I don’t want you to be alone like he was.”

“I’m not alone,” Susan said. “I have so many wonderful people in my life, you most of all. I was not all that different from Brandon, you know; I shut people out of my heart because I was so driven by my work.

“When you came into my life, I saw what I had been missing. The moment you opened your beautiful violet eyes after the transformation, I knew that I would do whatever was necessary to help you adapt to what had been done, no matter what the cost.”

“When this is all over, what do you plan on doing?” Brandi asked.

“I’ll continue to work on whatever the Forerunner project becomes,” Susan said. “I have more reason now than ever to unlock their secrets. But no matter what, I will always be here for you.”

“I know,” Brandi whispered, laying her head on Susan’s shoulder.

~That’s what makes this so hard~

  

*****

Upstairs in the bedroom, Melissa sat at the vanity brushing out her hair. She stopped and regarded the reddish highlights in her once jet black hair, and the next thing she knew she was sobbing. The events of the last week came rushing in on her, and she felt as though she could not breathe. Her body was wracked by her sobs, and she began shaking uncontrollably.

She did not even hear Brandi enter the room, but she did feel it as she was gently lifted from the chair and carried to the bed. Brandi did not say a word; she just held her and rocked her while she let it all out. At last she could cry no more, and she sagged against Brandi.

“It’s OK, love, I’ve been expecting this,” Brandi told her.

“I don’t know what happened,” Melissa said, her body still shaking. “I just started, and I couldn’t stop.”

“It’s called post traumatic shock, sweetie,” Brandi said. “You were almost killed a few days ago, and it’s catching up to you. You’re also facing a challenge that you never expected to face … I’m amazed at how strong you have been.”

“How do you do it?” Melissa asked.

“Melissa, I have eighteen years of training and experience behind me,” Brandi said. “I was twenty-six and had been a SEAL four years before I came under fire for the first time, back in Desert Storm. After the mission, I had the shakes so bad … I even threw up.”

“Was that the first time …?”

“The first time I took a life,” Brandi nodded. “Yes, it was.”

Melissa started shaking anew, and Brandi pulled her close again.

“Brandi, I killed that agent,” she cried. “I tried to make him drop his gun, but he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to do it ....”

“He made the choice,” Brandi said.

“He said I wouldn’t do it … he said I wasn’t the killer you are.”

Brandi tried not to, but she felt herself stiffen, and Melissa felt it too. She pulled back, pain and sorrow etched in her face.

“I don’t believe what he said,” Melissa told her. “You are not a killer.”

“You aren’t either,” Brandi said. “You did what you had to.”

“Does it get easier?” Melissa asked.

“I hope you never find out, sweetie,” Brandi said. “I hope you never have to do anything like that again.”

“There’s a good chance I will though,” Melissa said. “Especially considering your plan; the real plan.”

Brandi gave her a crooked grin. “I guess this being bonded thing is gonna make it hard to keep secrets.”

“Well, it’s not like I can read your mind,” Melissa said. “I could tell that you were holding things back when you told everyone the plan earlier this evening, and I know you’re very frightened for me. It didn’t take much effort to piece together what you’re planning, based on what Susan told us earlier.”

“Are you sure about this, love?” Brandi asked. “Because I really am not. I mean, I think it’s the only way, but I am so afraid for you. I’m not even sure this will work.”

“It will work,” Melissa said. “Don’t ask me how I know that; I just do.”

Brandi nodded in understanding; she too had that same feeling, despite her misgivings. It had happened many times since her transformation; she would find that some bit of knowledge had opened up within her mind, triggered by some event. She wondered if the nano-cyborgs had carried that information with them to Melissa.

“If this works, Melissa, if we pull this off, there may be no going back.”

“I understand that,” Melissa said. “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t frighten me, but I think it’s the only way too.”

“We’d better get started then,” Brandi said.

“Well, what do we do?” Melissa asked.

Brandi grinned coyly, “Nothing we don’t do almost every night, love.”

  

*****

Karen was awakened by a loud knocking, and for a moment she looked around the room in confusion. Then she remembered where she was; CTAG headquarters in the basement of the State Department. The tiny room had been her home for the last four days; since the attempt to abduct Brandi and Melissa in Los Angeles.   It wasn’t much; a bed, closet, dresser and a tiny bathroom, but at least it gave her a place to sleep. There was a second bed in the room that was being used by Mira Gallo, but she was not in it at the moment. Karen looked at the clock next to her bed and saw that it was only a little after eight PM; she had been asleep for less than an hour, and had only reluctantly agreed to get some rest when Kyle told her she looked like hell.

She got out of the bed and walked to the door, still dressed in the clothes she had been wearing for the past thirty hours. She had been too tired to even think about undressing and had just crashed onto the bed and fallen immediately asleep. She opened the door to find Mira standing there.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Karen asked.

“Sorry, wasn’t sure if you were decent,” Mira said. “I have something you need to see.”

“What is it?”

“I found the location of the organization’s computers,” Mira said rapidly. She tended to talk very fast when she was excited. “I’d bet anything their hard copy files are there too.”

“Nevada? We already knew that.”

“No they’re right here; well, just over in Arlington actually. I ran a trace to verify the location. At first it did show the location as Nevada, but there was something funny about it, so I did some more digging. I had to write a whole new program to get through all the layers they had established. The security is pretty sophisticated and uses….”

Karen held up her hand, “Mira, I do well to find the power button; spare me the technical details. Give me a few minutes for a quick shower and to throw on some fresh clothes. I’ll meet you in the computer room.”

As Karen showered and then dressed, her mind was working furiously. She had talked to Brandi and Melissa at length earlier in the evening over a secure line and knew what the plan was. If the evidence they needed was indeed in Arlington and not Nevada, then the whole thing could be ruined. Undoubtedly, once the personnel remaining learned of the assault on the lab, they would destroy all the evidence.

Fifteen minutes later, she was walking into the server room dressed in a pair of navy blue slacks and a white silk top, her hair still wet and dripping. She had not even bothered with makeup, and she knew she looked like she had hardly slept in two days, which of course was true. Mira showed her what she had found, and Karen took a printout of the address and went immediately to Kyle’s office.

“I’d say it looks like your nap did you good, but it would be a lie,” Kyle said. “What do you have?”

Karen handed him the printout and explained what Mira had told her.

“It makes sense,” Kyle said. “They set up the data equivalent of a safe house, someplace that couldn’t easily be traced to the organization and would be missed if they were ever raided.”

“We have to get those files,” Karen said.

“That presents us with several problems,” Kyle said. “For one, we have no field personnel. Even if we did, we have the same legal restrictions on conducting operations within the country as the CIA and other intelligence services.”

“So we bring in the feds,” Karen said. “There has to be an agency we can trust.”

“There may be,” Kyle said. “I need to make some phone calls first and call in a few favors.”

Kyle reached for his phone and then paused, leaning back in his chair.

“You know, Karen, with their ability to program these sleepers, there may be no hard evidence of the plot.”

Karen shook her head vigorously. “No, it’s there; I can feel it. We know from the circumstantial evidence we have uncovered that the plot goes back at least twenty-five years. But Brandi told me that they have only recently been able to actually make use of some of the really hi-tech artifacts — only since our computer technology reached a level where it could interface with the alien tech, even on a limited scale.

“The crystal we got from those agents is obviously Forerunner, but Mira said the circuitry in the mounting is all off the shelf. Before they had the advantage of the alien devices, they had to do it the old fashioned way. That means blackmail and coercion, and there will be records of that.”

“You’re right,” Kyle said, reaching for the phone again. “An old navy buddy of mine is a senior agent with NCIS. I’ll give him a call and see what we can put together.”

“We need to check out the location too,” Karen said.

“And you want to do it,” Kyle said, and then surprised Karen with his next words. “All right, but I’m going to get you some experienced help. Go get yourself presentable, and I’ll get the wheels rolling.”

  

CHAPTER 50

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2005

0600 EST

Brandi rose early Saturday morning and dressed quickly. She gave the still sleeping Melissa a gentle kiss and then slipped out of the bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind her. She doubted anyone would walk in unannounced, but it was best to be safe. The house was still and quiet, but as she made her way downstairs, she could hear activity in the kitchen and knew that Gretchen was already busily preparing breakfast for the household. Her stomach reminded her that the night’s activity had burned much of her energy reserves, but first she had to go speak to Matt and the SEALs. They had put together a plan to assault the lab, and she was supposed to review it and offer any suggestions.

The guest house on the Amanda’s estate was larger than Melissa’s house in Venice. Still it was crowded; it was not intended to house a SEAL platoon and their equipment. Despite that, the boys kept the house neat and orderly, though an unsuspecting visitor or intruder would wonder what they had stumbled into when they saw the racks of automatic weapons and stacks of crates with military labeling. As Brandi entered the guest house, she felt her senses assailed by input that threatened to overwhelm her. The whole house simply reeked of maleness. It was not anything anyone else would have noticed, but her hyper-attuned senses could not miss it, and she paused for a moment just inside the door to gather her wits.

~Keep it together, girl. You can’t afford to go bimbo now. ~

Once she was certain she could control herself, she made her way through the living room and into the dining room, where the SEALs were waiting. They were gathered around a big maple dining table, studying the layout of the compound for probably the hundredth time, but as Brandi entered the room fell silent.

Fifteen pairs of very manly eyes immediately zeroed in on Brandi, and she was once more blasted with sensory input. There was of course curiosity, which was perfectly natural. She also sensed a good deal of uncertainty; she was no longer one of them, and she knew that she would have to prove herself in their eyes all over again. The reaction did not cause her any distress; she knew Brandon would have felt the same.

It was their other purely natural reactions that caused her the most difficulty, even though she had prepared herself for it. They saw before them a stunningly beautiful young woman, one none of them would have hesitated to make a play for had they seen her in a bar, except Chief Wright, who was very happily married and had a daughter who was actually older than Brandi. She gathered herself once more and forced down the feelings of arousal that were rising within.

“So, like, you think you have enough gear, Matt?” Brandi asked as she looked around at the stacks of equipment. It was meant as a joke, but Matt seemed to be a bit ill at ease and didn’t get it.

~Can’t blame the poor guy. I’d be freaked if our roles were reversed. ~

“We’re set,” Matt replied. “We restocked from Little Creek after we got out here. We even managed to scrounge up some of those dinky little rounds for your MP-7s and some .357 Sig for your pistols.”

“Hey, my hands are smaller now, what can I say?” Brandi grinned. She was pleased that they’d been able to recover the MP-7 that had been torn away when she was thrown from the Hummer, and that it was still functional. She vowed that when this was all over, she would see that Gary got a new pair to replace them; they were both a bit scuffed up now.

Brandi took a deep breath and decided to attack the situation up front. There was no sense beating around the bush.

“I know this is hard for you guys,” she said. “It’s hard for me too; harder than you can possibly imagine. I will probably do and say things that make you uncomfortable, but please understand that I’m not trying to; it’s just part of who I am now. I’ll try not to flirt too outrageously, but I’m not making any promises.”

The SEALs laughed nervously, not sure if she was kidding or not. At least she had dressed conservatively; a long tiered denim peasant skirt, lavender sweater and leather calf boots with a modest two inch heel. Even with the added height, she was the shortest person in the room.

There was something else she sensed as well, something different that she could not quite identify. It was a very strong feeling, and she got it from every one of the SEALs. It was not directed at her; in fact, it was not as though it were a physical reaction from them, but more of a feeling about them, a familiar and comforting feeling. After a moment, she realized what it was; she sensed a kinship with these men. She sensed their warrior genes. She got the strongest sensation of all from Matt Branch, and she knew without a doubt that he not only had some of the warrior genes, he had the Mother gene, the one gene that had to be present in a Genomorph.

~So, how do I tell him? ‘Oh hey, Matt, I just thought you should know you’ve got girl genes in you’? ~

Brandi could not help herself; she started giggling as she imagined how Matt would take that news — how Brandon would have taken it. The SEALs all looked at her, wondering what was so funny.

“Um, sorry guys…I do that sometimes,” she told them. “It’s a girl thing … you wouldn’t understand. So, show me what you have.”

“This place is a tough nut to crack,” Matt said as they turned their attention to the table.

Brandi nodded in agreement. The SEALs’ part of the plan was to launch an assault on the surface of the compound. The enemy would expect them to make some kind of move to get her back, and the attack would hopefully draw out some of the mercenaries within the lab, making Brandi’s job easier. It would not be simple though. The surface portion of the lab was about the size of a football field, with a scattering of buildings within a high fenced-in perimeter. To the north was a hangar for the helicopters that ferried people to and from Nellis Air Force base. In the center was the main building which housed the entrance to the underground lab. Brandi noted several structures that looked like prefabricated buildings and a number of fortified positions around the perimeter.

“That’s all new,” she said.

Matt nodded, “The buildings are being used as housing for their security force. Apparently, they don’t want the mercenary riff-raff in the big house. The internal security is being handled by their regular troops; they’re still basically mercenaries, but they are likely better disciplined. The trenches and emplacements are pretty obvious, of course. I’d say they’re expecting you.”

Brandi looked at Matt, and he saw something in her eyes, something disturbing. He got the distinct impression that she was thinking this mission would be far easier without the SEALs along. If stealth and subterfuge were not paramount, he knew she would be perfectly happy to batter her way into that lab on her own. It was something Brandon would have never even considered, and he knew then, without a doubt, that she was no longer one of them, but rather something far more dangerous.

As quickly as it came, the look passed, and the girl before him looked like the most harmless creature on earth.

~Those idiots are lucky she needs us. ~

“There’s no doubt they will detect our approach,” he continued. “The terrain offers some opportunities for concealment, but not a lot, and there is a hundred meters of flat ground around the perimeter.”

Brandi nodded and looked back at the photo, taking note of numerous emplacements that likely housed machine guns and would provide overlapping fields of fire.

“The uplink is housed in a steel reinforced concrete bunker here,” Branch said, pointing to a structure between the main building and the hanger. “The ceiling has two large armored steel doors that can be opened to transmit. The only way to access the interior of the structure is from inside the lab. The plan is to hit them from two sides from the edge of the open area. Lewis and Darrow will kick things off by neutralizing the guard towers and disabling every exposed vehicle with their fifty calibers. The rest of the platoon will lay down fire, and that should be enough to prompt them to react. When they open the doors on top of the bunker to use the uplink, we’re going to hit it with a Javelin missile. That will be more than enough to destroy the dish and prevent them from sending their signal.”

“How are you inserting?”

“HAHO,” Branch said. “We have to jump from outside the airspace around the test range, or we’ll set off all manner of alerts. We’ll land about ten miles out and hoof it into position.”

“OK,” Brandi said. She studied the map for a few seconds and then looked up at the SEALs.

“Guys, I need to speak with the Lieutenant in private,” she told them, and then turned to Matt. “Is there someplace we can go to talk?”

Matt nodded and motioned her towards the living room. There was a small study just adjacent to it, and once they were inside, Brandi closed the door. The study was furnished as would be expected, and there was also a love seat, which Brandi had a seat on. She indicated that Matt should join her, but he hesitated.

“Oh, relax, Matt,” she said. “It’s not like I want to tear your clothes off and have sex with you right here.”

Matt laughed nervously and had a seat beside her.

“OK, that was actually a lie,” Brandi said. “I very much do want to tear your clothes off and have sex with you right here; the point is I’m not going to.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” Matt said. Brandi laughed at his discomfort, knowing he would be even more uncomfortable if he knew she meant every word of it.

“I’m not a wild animal, Matt,” she said. “I know you’re uncomfortable with me, and I also know you’re attracted to me, which just makes it worse. If the two of us were just sitting here on a normal day, then we would already be doing it by now, because frankly I don’t think you could resist if I really poured it on.

“I won’t do that because I have a job to do; I have a mission. That supersedes everything.”

“All right,” Matt said. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

Brandi shook her head, “No, there’s more. You’re plan is good, but I’m afraid it won’t work, because it’s based on the overall plan I laid out last night. Now I need to tell you the real plan.”

While Brandi laid out her plan to a rather annoyed Matt Branch, the SEALs in the dining room were left to wonder what was going on behind closed doors.

“You don’t think they’re … you know …?” Vasquez wondered aloud. “I mean, I know she was the Commander, but man, there is no denying she is hot.”

“Vasquez, I suggest you keep your zipper locked,” Chief Wright said. “You even cast a come hither look her way, and I will cut something off you don’t want to lose.”

Vasquez gave Wright a stricken look. Wright was not really worried; he knew that none of them could really understand what Brandi had experienced, but they could all imagine themselves in her situation. They had too much respect for their former Commander and would gently rebuff her should she get too out of hand.

~At least they’d try, ~ the Chief thought. If Brandi truly set her mind to seduce one of the SEALs, he seriously doubted any of them would be able to resist long, himself included.

A short time later, Brandi and Matt returned. She would leave it to him to explain the change in the plan to the team; after all, they were his men now.

“Well, I think you guys have a handle on everything,” Brandi said. She noticed her voice adopting a coy playfulness, but rather than fight it, she ran with it. It was better that they learn to deal with her here and now. “I’m gonna go wake Melissa up and grab some breakfast. Afterwards, I was thinkin’ about a dip in the pool.”

Brandi could feel their eyes on her as she headed towards the door. She paused as she stood in the doorway and turned back, flashing a mischievous grin at the SEALs.

“I’ve got a great new bikini I haven’t worn out in public yet. Maybe somebody would like to give me an objective opinion on how it looks. Oh, and Enrique, thanks for the compliment, sweetie. I think you’re a hottie yourself.”

Vasquez’s face darkened as he blushed, and the rest of the team laughed heartily. He had been so focused on Brandi’s physical changes, he had forgotten the less obvious ones, like her hyper-sensitive ears.

~I am so bad, ~ she thought as she walked back towards the main house, not feeling the least bit ashamed. There was a refreshing sense of freedom, knowing she could flirt to her heart’s content with these men, and none of them would even think of taking liberties because of it.

“Well, maybe they’ll think about it,” she giggled.

She was still giggling when she entered the house.

  

CHAPTER 51

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2005

1000 EST

“Isn’t this illegal?” Karen asked as Maxine Andrews picked the lock on the back of a house in Arlington, Virginia, after disabling the security system. The house was vacant with a ‘for sale’ sign out front and was conveniently just down the street from the target.

The lock clicked open, and Max swung the door wide and entered with Karen close behind.

“Well, technically our conducting a surveillance operation in the United States is illegal,” Max told her. “What’s a little breaking and entering compared to that?”

Karen grinned. “You remind me of someone I know.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Max said as they made their way through the house.

“Oh, it is,” Karen said. “She’s not one to let the rules stop her from doing what’s right either.”

“Sounds like my kind of girl,” Max said.

“Sorry, Max, she has a girlfriend,” Karen giggled, causing Max to give her a sharp look.

“How did you know?” Max asked.

“Hey, I’m an intelligence analyst remember?” Karen said. “Actually, my best friend and roommate for the last six years is a lesbian. I have two other friends who have been in a relationship for several years. I guess I just developed a sense for it. Plus, you and Kyle have known each other for years, and you’ve never dated.”

“Well, he did try when we first met, several times,” Max told her as they headed upstairs. They set up their equipment at a front window that afforded a good view of the house down the street.

The house was a large two-story colonial with a perfectly manicured lawn. It blended perfectly with the other houses in the neighborhood; the picture of suburban bliss.

“Are you sure your people got the address right?” Max asked.

“The house is owned by Arthur and Marion Rothberg,” Karen said. “He is apparently a quite successful computer consultant who operates his business out of his home. The only problem is, he doesn’t seem to have any clients. The business records show income from several corporations, but when we dug deeper, they all turned out to be dummies.”

“Of course, none of it ties back to the organization,” Max said. “I guess it’s hard to connect anything to something that doesn’t officially exist.”

“There is a trail, but it’s very hard to spot,” Karen said. “His credentials are real enough, and we have their marriage records.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s all real,” Max said. “He’s the tech maintaining the computers, and his wife is the security. I’ll bet they sleep in separate bedrooms.”

“So, what do you think?”

Max studied the house through the telephoto lens of the camera before speaking.

“It’s a cinch they have a state of the art security system,” she said. “If we show up with a truckload of feds, they will destroy everything. I would guess they have it set up on some kind of ‘dead man switch’; they probably have to enter a code at regular intervals to prevent the system from wiping itself. They probably never leave the house together either; one of them stays with the equipment. Getting inside without tipping them off is going to be tough.”

~Brandi could get in there with no problem, ~ Karen thought, but that was not a viable alternative.

The morning progressed as they maintained surveillance, one of them watching the house while the other watched the driveway to make sure an enterprising realtor did not decide to show the house. Around ten, a man came out of the house, and Max snapped several pictures of him as he retrieved the morning paper.

“So what’s she like?” Max asked after the man had returned to the house.

“My friend Melissa?” Karen asked. “Well she’s….”

“No, I meant Brandi.”

Karen turned from the window where she was watching the driveway and stared at Max. She knew Kyle had not told her anything about Brandi.

“Hey, I’m a spook,” Max said. “Just because we’re not supposed to operate here doesn’t mean we don’t. Besides, we got a bulletin about her through channels. They tried to make it sound innocent enough, but it set off warning bells.”

Max waited, but Karen said nothing, just stared at her. Max was CTAG’s liaison with the CIA, and Karen felt she could be trusted, but it was not her place to divulge any information about Brandi. The thought that the CIA knew about her friend was disturbing, however, and Karen wondered just how much they did know.

“We thought it was odd that they were so interested in finding her. After the incident at UCLA, it became clearer why they want her, but I think there is still more to it.”

Karen almost sighed with relief; Max was fishing. The CIA knew about Brandi, but they did not know much. It made sense that the organization would try to get the Agency to work to help them, but they would never let them know why Brandi was so valuable.

“Max, I know we only just met, but I’d like to think we’re friends,” Karen said slowly. “I gather from your reaction earlier that it’s not widely known that you’re a lesbian. I want you to know that your secret is safe with me.”

Max smiled, “I appreciate that, Karen, but my sexual preference is not a matter of national security.”

“Neither is Brandi,” Karen said. “She is a victim of these people; the same people who have agents planted in the CIA. You saw the evidence; what do you think of these people?”

“They’re worse than scum,” Max said. “Karen, I joined the CIA because I want to defend this country. What they’re trying to do sickens me.”

“Then I’ll tell you this; they’ve done worse,” Karen said. “What they did to my friend … Max it would horrify you, and afterwards they tried to lock her away and make her a tool. After they are dealt with, she will have the freedom to choose what path she wants to take. I’m not being overly dramatic when I say I would die to protect her, because I know she would do the same for me without hesitation.”

“You know, I think we are going to be good friends,” Max said as she turned back to the camera. She found Karen’s loyalty to her friend admirable, and it made her more curious than ever to know the person who could inspire it.

The house was still quiet, and Max turned back to Karen one more time.

“In this business, it’s very easy to lose yourself,” she said. “The black and white starts to become gray. Don’t ever let go of your convictions, Karen. Don’t ever lose that sense of right and wrong. Our job is to ensure the security and safety of the nation, but if we forget that the people are the nation, it’s all for nothing.”

Around noon the garage door of the house opened, and a Mercedes 350 SLK began backing out. Max snapped pictures until it was out of sight.

“That was the woman,” Max said. “Hopefully, I can get a better shot of her when she comes back.”

A little over an hour later, the Mercedes returned. The woman left the garage door open as she removed shopping bags from the trunk, and Max was able to get several shots of her. Once the garage door had closed, Max began reviewing the pictures on the LCD screen of the camera.

The woman calling herself Marion Rothberg was about five feet eight inches tall and had auburn hair that hung just past her shoulders. She has a nice figure, voluptuous but not overly so. In fact, from a distance, or in a fleeting glance at a closed circuit monitor, she could easily have been mistaken for Karen … or vice versa.

“I have a wild idea,” Max said. “Kyle is definitely not going to like it though.”

  

*****

The GMU chamber was filled with a loud hum as the machine powered up. The subject on the table, one of the mercenaries hired to protect the facility, was in a total state of relaxation. The scanning beam swept over his nude body, and after the scan was complete Barbara pressed the glowing touch pad to initiate a transformation sequence. The hum increased slightly and then an alarm began sounding.

Critical Error….Genomorph Transformation module is damaged….transformation sequence terminated…

The words flashed mockingly on the display as the GMU powered down. The subject was oblivious to what was happening and would remain that way for several hours.

“What is the problem this time?”

Barbara turned and looked at the Man, but unlike most of his subordinates, there was no hint of fear in her eyes. It was one of the things he liked about the young woman.

“The same problem as the last time,” she said. “This GMU is identical to the other, but has added components to create Genomorphs, and those components are damaged beyond our ability to repair.”

“I don’t like excuses, Dr. Currant.”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s a fact,” Barbara snapped, refusing to be cowed. “If you want to create more Genomorphs, you’re going to have to reverse engineer the device and construct a new one. That process will take years … decades probably.”

“Then we will have to bend the existing Genomorph to our will.”

“Yes, that worked so well the first time you tried it,” Barbara said acerbically. “Can’t you understand that one of those warrior genes is what defeated the original attempt to program her? Now that she is a Genomorph, that genetic resistance to outside control is ten times stronger.”

“There are many ways to control another,” The Man said. “Once we have her girlfriend and Dr. Covington here, we will have all the leverage we need.”

“Of course,” Barbara said as the Man left the control room.

~The blind fool. Even if he succeeds, Brandi will just wait for the perfect opportunity to destroy him. ~

The technicians began wheeling the comatose subject out of the chamber on a gurney. He would awaken in a few hours and be returned to duty, and never know how close he had come to a much ruder awakening.

~Even if the module wasn’t damaged, it would have never worked, ~ Barbara thought as she studied the scan data. ~The subject didn’t have the warrior genes or any of the Forerunner genetic traits Brandon possessed. ~

As the technicians exited the chamber, Martina Todd, formerly the organization’s chief analyst, Todd Martin, entered nervously. Martina was little more than a sex toy with excellent office skills, and there was very little of Todd left. Barbara had watched as Reginald Mercer personally deleted the data matrix that could one day have restored Todd, and he had obviously enjoyed the power of utterly destroying another human being with the touch of a button. Still, there was enough left that Martina knew to fear the GMU chamber.

“It’s all right, Tina,” Barbara said as she stepped out of the control room. “Nothing is going to hurt you. I just want to run a quick test to make sure you’re healthy.”

“I really feel fine, Dr. Currant,” the young woman said.

“I’m sure you do,” Barbara said. Like all subjects who were processed by the GMU, Martina had a body that bordered on perfection. It was not like Brandi’s, but she would rarely, if ever, get sick and would likely have a very long lifespan. The optimization of a subject was another built-in default of the machine. Any procedure other than a simple scan would result in the process being carried out.

“Please, Dr. Currant, I don’t wanna wake up somebody else!” Tina cried.

As Barbara looked at Tina sharply, the young woman thought she actually saw tears in the scientist’s eyes. Barbara put her hand gently on Tina’s arm and squeezed softly.

“You won’t even go to sleep, I promise,” Barbara said. Tina nodded her head and allowed Barbara to steer her towards the crystal chamber. Tina started to remove her clothes, but Barbara stopped her.

“That’s not necessary, Tina,” she said. “This will only take about five minutes, and then you can get back to work.”

Tina looked at her, and Barbara could see conflicting emotions warring in her eyes. Desire and disgust battled for control.

“I could stretch it into an hour if you want,” Barbara said with a gentle smile that was very uncharacteristic for her.

Relief washed over Tina’s face, but was quickly replaced by concern.

“What if Reggie gets mad?” she asked. “He’s my boss, you know, and I’m supposed to take care of him.”

“Agent Mercer is on his way to Virginia, remember?” Barbara said.

“Oh, yeah,” Tina said, her voice dejected. “I sure hope he gets back soon.”

Tina settled onto the couch in the chamber, and Barbara turned back towards the control room.

“I’m very sorry,” she whispered. Despite the softness of her comments, Tina heard the words.

“It’s all right,” Tina said. “I know you didn’t want to.”

  

*****

“Have you lost your mind, Max?” Kyle asked after Max had told him her plan for getting into the house in Arlington.

“Kyle, we have very limited resources,” she explained calmly. “If we are going to get the information secured, we need someone inside to slow down any reaction to the troops when they move in. Karen is the same height and build as the woman calling herself Marion Rothberg.”

Over a very short period of surveillance, they had determined that the woman frequently left the house on errands. The plan was to take her into custody on one of these trips and have Karen switch places with her. Karen would then return to the house and deal with any security monitors and the man inside, until the NCIS agents moved in to take over.

“The only other option is to kill the power for the entire neighborhood,” NCIS Special Agent Tony Capriatti said. “If they have backup power, which they almost certainly do, they would still be able to destroy the files.”

“You could send a pair of your people to the door disguised as delivery men or salesmen while the woman was out,” Kyle suggested.

“I did just that,” Max said. “I went up with a fake survey and rang the bell. He never answered. I suspect he was watching the security monitors the whole time, but he won’t come to the door when she is not there.”

“If we used that ploy while she is there, we’d get her, but he could still destroy the evidence,” Capriatti said. “There is no way we can get a full team anywhere near the house without tipping them off. The ground is covered by motion detectors, and there are video cameras everywhere.”

“We can use the crystal,” Kyle said. “Zap the woman at the door, and have her call him down.”

“What if he sees us use it?” Max said. “He will almost certainly be watching the monitors anytime she goes to the door.”

Karen listened to the exchange in silence. She was not thrilled about the idea of going into the house and facing a man who would likely not hesitate to kill her if he had the chance. But her best friends were getting ready to enter the enemy’s base of operations, where they would be facing far more certain risk. Could she do any less?

“What would I have to do?”

All eyes turned to Karen when she spoke, and they saw the hesitation and fear in her eyes.

“Kyle, I’m not happy about this either,” Karen said. “In fact, I’m scared half to death. I’m not a big thrill seeker, I don’t even like driving on the freeway, but there is a lot at stake here, and I have a personal stake in this.”

“All you have to do is get in and get him away from the computers,” Max said. “We have the layout of the house, and from thermal scans we know where the computers are, in an upstairs bedroom. The security monitors may be there, but most likely there are monitor stations in several rooms. Get him away from the computers, use the crystal on him, and send the NCIS guys the signal; they will be in the house in less than ten seconds.”

“All right, when do we do it?” Karen asked.

Max smiled. Kyle was right about this girl; she had what it took to get the job done. She remembered her first field assignment and how nervous and frightened she had been, even with the benefit of extensive training. Karen had to be terrified, but she was hiding it well.

“As soon as we get word that they have taken your friends, we’ll take up positions in the neighborhood,” Capriatti said. “The next time the woman leaves, we’ll arrest her and make the switch.”

“What if she doesn’t leave the house before the SEALs go in?” Kyle said. “We’ll have a very tight window.”

“We’ll go with Plan B, a felony raid, and hope for the best,” Capriatti said. “We’ll kill the neighborhood power and hit the house as fast as we can. Hopefully, we can at least secure any hard copy files.”

“All right, I still don’t like it, but I’ll authorize this,” Kyle said. “I want Karen in a vest though.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Max said. “It’s going to get cold tonight and should be raining over the next two or three days. Marion will be dressed for the weather, and once Karen has switched to her clothes, the vest should be well covered.”

“I want you rested,” Kyle said to Karen. “There’s nothing more you can do for now. If anything comes up, I’ll send someone for you.”

Karen nodded and rose from her chair, walking over to the door. As she was about to leave, Kyle spoke again.

“You don’t take any unnecessary risks, Karen. I want you back.”

After Karen had left, Kyle turned and looked hard at Max.

“And you keep your hands off her,” he said. “She’s mine, and I’m not going to let you steal her for the Agency.”

“Now, Kyle, you know me better than that,” Max laughed, but she never promised not to try.

“All right, now what about the legalities?” Kyle asked. “Are you going to need a warrant, Tony? I’d rather not risk going to the courts if we don’t have to.”

“We can prove the house is owned by a federal agency,” Capriatti said. “We can also prove that the occupants are employed by that agency. That, plus the rudimentary evidence we have of the plot, gives us sufficient exigent circumstance to enter without a warrant. The risk of them destroying the evidence we need is too great.”

“It’s not like this will ever see the inside of a courtroom,” Max said.

“True, but we need to be clean,” Kyle said. “We can’t let these bastards wriggle off the hook. At the very least some of the lesser players will be charged and take the fall.”

  

CHAPTER 52

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29

1030 EST

Brandi’s giggling and squealing echoed within the pool enclosure as Susan crossed the granite deck. Brandi was in the pool with several of the SEALs, playing a very animated game of water polo. There did not seem to be any real rules or score keeping, and the main goal of the game appeared to be to get the ball to Brandi as often as possible so they could then attempt to take it away.

“I bet you never knew water polo was a contact sport,” Melissa said as Susan sat down next to her on a chaise lounge.

“Not that kind of contact,” Susan said as she watched one of the SEALs, Kevin Darrow, grab Brandi about the waist and plunge her under the water as she squealed.

“If she’s not careful, she’s going to lose that top,” Susan said.

“I think you may have discovered the true objective of the game.” Melissa giggled. “Not that it hides much.”

Susan watched the game for a moment before turning back to Melissa. “Isn’t she being a little ….”

“Flirty? Actually, she’s being outrageously flirty,” Melissa said. “Don’t worry, Susan, it’s only because she feels safe. She doesn’t have to fight it with them. She flirts, they flirt back, and every one of them knows it will never go beyond that. She trusts them.”

“So why aren’t you part of the game?” Susan asked.

“Well, Brandi’s bathing suits are still too big, and mine are too small,” Melissa said, looking down at her chest. She was not wearing a bra under her t-shirt because hers were too tight, since her breasts were a full cup larger.

“We’ll get it fixed, Melissa.”

“I know,” Melissa said. “But even if we don’t, it will be all right. It’ll be a little weird having a girlfriend who is my identical twin, but weird seems to be kind of normal these days.”

“I really don’t mean to pry, but I am scientifically curious about this,” Susan said. “Can you feel yourself changing?”

“I feel really drained,” Melissa said a bit hesitantly. “I think most of the changes are happening when I sleep, but I want to sleep a lot. I have to make an effort to stay awake.”

“That would make sense,” Susan said, sensing that the topic was making Melissa uncomfortable.

“It looks like the game is breaking up,” she said to change the subject.

Brandi climbed out of the pool and walked over to join them. With a big grin, she sat on Melissa’s lounge by her legs.

“Brandi, you’re dripping all over me,” Melissa complained.

“You’re lucky, I was gonna give you a big hug,” she said as she picked up a towel and began drying herself off. When she had finished, she hopped up and grabbed a big t-shirt and put it on. It immediately clung to her still damp body.

“Come on, lazy, we’re gonna go for a walk,” she said. “If you stay here, you’re gonna fall asleep, and we won’t be able to wake you up for hours.”

Brandi practically dragged a protesting Melissa up from the lounge and began pulling her towards the door.

“Wanna join us, Mom?”

“You two have fun,” Susan said. “I have some work I need to get done.”

Once they were out of earshot, Brandi leaned over and kissed Melissa on the cheek.

“Do you think she suspects anything?” she whispered.

Melissa shook her head. “She’s curious and worried, but that’s it. You sure looked like you were having a good time with the boys.”

Brandi giggled. “Yeah, I was. I didn’t even mind when they copped a feel every now and then. I bet you never thought you’d hear me say that.”

“Tramp,” Melissa said. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Well, if you can’t think of anything, I’ve got a few ideas,” Brandi said as she took Melissa’s hand. Her expression became serious as she said, “How are you doing, love?”

“I’m tired,” Melissa said. “I really could use a nap. It’s not as bad as I thought it might be, but I don’t want to push things too far.”

“No, that would be bad,” Brandi agreed.

  

*****

Two hundred miles overhead, a KH-14 surveillance satellite trained its high resolution camera towards the Virginia countryside. It was the most secret surveillance tool in the US arsenal, and thanks to the addition of Forerunner technology, this particular satellite exceeded the five-inch resolution of the others in the series. It still was not able to read a license plate from orbit, although that was due more to a problem with angles rather than resolution. It was capable of identifying something as small as a pack of cigarettes on the ground, or the very distinctive figure of a certain blonde haired young woman.

“There they are,” Evans said, gesturing towards a monitor screen in the back of the black surveillance van. They were parked five miles away from the estate to ensure their quarry would not detect them.

The two young women were plainly visible as they walked about the grounds of the estate. It was even obvious when the Genomorph stopped and lit a cigarette.

“Look at that, they’re walking right along the edge of the estate like they don’t have a care in the world,” Evans said. “If we had the TAC team in place, we could grab them both now.”

“Yes, that worked so well in Los Angeles,” Mercer responded. “We had two teams there, and still they got away.”

“They won’t get away this time,” Evans said. “When can we activate Covington?”

“When everything is in place,” Mercer said. “We have to be within two miles of her to do it, and we need to arrange a diversion to draw the Genomorph and the SEALs away.”

“Sir, the satellite is moving away,” the technician monitoring the feed said. “We’ll lose the image in one minute.”

“We’ve seen enough,” Mercer said. “We know she’s there.”

  

*****

Melissa stopped walking and looked skyward for a moment.

“What’s wrong love?” Brandi asked.

“Nothing,” Melissa said. “I just had this creepy feeling that we were being watched.”

“Well, we’d better get back inside if we’re gonna make that phone call,” Brandi said. “After that, you probably should take a nap. Otherwise you’ll be too tired to be any fun when we go to bed.”

Melissa groaned and said, “I think I’ve created a monster.”

  

*****

Arnie Belcher was looking forward to a few weeks with no driving to do. He had dropped his load in the early morning hours and then stopped for some sleep at a truck stop off Interstate 10 just outside Pensacola, Florida. He had not told his fiancée, Jenny, that he was heading back to Birmingham today; he wanted to surprise her. The wedding was scheduled for January, and after that Arnie was going to give up long haul trucking.

He sat on the bed in his truck’s sleeper compartment and opened his laptop to check his email. There was one from Jenny, and he smiled as he read it; he couldn’t wait to see the surprise on her face when he showed up two weeks early. He sent her a quick reply since he wanted to get on the road as soon as possible and give her the rest of the message in person.

As he closed his laptop, his cell phone began ringing. He checked the display for the caller ID before answering, certain it was Jenny, and was surprised when he saw who the caller was.

“Hello Arnie,” Brandi’s voice said in his ear.

“Hello … Brenda,” Arnie said. He knew that cell phones were fairly easy to tap with the right equipment, and was sure the people looking for Brandi had that equipment.

“It’s OK, Arnie, we can talk,” Brandi said. “They’re close but they can’t listen in right now. I can’t talk long, but I really need a truck driver.”

Arnie did not hesitate before replying, “When and where, darlin’. I’m in Pensacola right now.”

“I need you to head to Nevada, for the place we met,” Brandi said. “I’ll be there with some friends. I can fill you in on everything then.”

“I’ll be truckin’ that way in less’an an hour,” Arnie said. “I’ll be there by mid-mornin’ on Monday.”

“I really appreciate this, Arnie,” Brandi said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“Same here, darlin’,” Arnie said. “You watch out now; them folks can play rough from what I been seein’.”

“You know me, Arnie,” Brandi giggled. “I’m very careful.”

Arnie closed the cell phone and set it aside. Brandi was obviously trying to reveal as little as possible, just in case someone was listening. It went without saying that whatever she needed him for would probably be risky. It didn’t matter; Brandi had saved his life twice. Whatever she needed from him, he was prepared to give. Before he hit the road he started his computer again and composed a longer email. He told her several times how much he loved her … just in case.

  

CHAPTER 53

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005

0600 EST

Sunday had passed pleasantly for everyone, especially it seemed for Brandi and Melissa, who had frequently disappeared to their room ‘to take a nap’. Susan suspected that the changes in Melissa were beginning to increase her sex drive as well. Brandi even commented once about them behaving like two newlyweds on their honeymoon.

Early Monday morning, Amanda and Admiral Hammerstein left for Washington and a meeting with the Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral Martin Moeller. Amanda was surprised when Gretchen insisted on driving them; the young woman frequently acted as chauffeur for Amanda, but was unusually insistent, saying she had to go with them. When Amanda asked her why, Gretchen lifted her chin and gave Amanda a look of fierce determination.

“I love this country too,” she said. Amanda handed her the keys.

Chief of Naval Operations Martin Moeller was not pleased as his old friend and Amanda entered his office in the Pentagon. He had been receiving some disturbing reports about the Commander of Naval Special Warfare, and there was talk from some sectors that he was somehow involved with the incident at UCLA a few days earlier. It did not help matters that Hammerstein had not been seen or heard from since that incident. When Hammerstein called and insisted they had to speak, the CNO had been reluctant but finally agreed. His aide, Lieutenant Abby Stewart, sat with them in the Admiral’s office and took notes on the meeting.

A little over an hour later, when Hammerstein and Amanda had told him their incredible story, he was certain that the whisperings he had been hearing were true; his old friend had gone off the deep end.

“Mike, this is just crazy,” Moeller said. “You have to give me something more than a wild story like this. Where’s your proof?”

“We are taking steps to secure the evidence,” Hammerstein said. He did not mention the evidence that had already been gathered by CTAG, and would not until they could be sure that Moeller had not been compromised.

“While we don’t have hard evidence of the plot, we do have proof of the existence of the alien technology,” Amanda said. She took a strange looking device from her bag and set it on the desk before Admiral Moeller.

“What exactly is this?” Moeller asked as he picked up the optical programming device.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that, sir,” Lieutenant Stewart said as she rose from her chair, a small automatic pistol in her hand. “Mrs. Breton and Admiral Hammerstein are traitors and will be dealt with accordingly.”

“Lieutenant, what the hell are you doing!”

“Shut up,” Stewart snapped, moving so she could cover all three of them, her back to the office door. “As soon as I make a phone call, we’ll get you straightened out. You won’t even remember they were here. If any of you try anything, I will kill you.”

“What about me?” a voice asked from behind her. Stewart turned to face the newcomer but was stopped as a heavy vase smashed over her head. She dropped the gun and crumpled to the floor.

Gretchen stood in the doorway, having slipped in from the outer office where she had been eavesdropping on the meeting. She looked at Amanda sheepishly, her face reddening.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Breton,” she said. “Brandi asked me to watch out for you.”

Admiral Moeller reached for his phone to call for security, but Hammerstein stopped him.

“We don’t know how many of them can be trusted,” he said. “They could all have been subverted.”

“Stewart was one of those sleepers?” Moeller asked. He watched, stunned, as Gretchen and Hammerstein placed the young Lieutenant back in her chair and began tying her up with a lamp cord.

“No,” Amanda said. “She was most likely programmed as a watcher for you, to guard against anyone like us contacting you. You are the sleeper, Admiral.”

“That’s preposterous!”

“How long has Stewart been your aide, about a year?” Hammerstein asked.

“Yes, since I took this post.”

“She was likely compromised shortly after that, if not before,” Amanda said. “Undoubtedly, she is the one who placed the sleeper programming in you.”

“I would know if I were one of them,” Moeller protested, but his voice held no conviction.

“How?” Hammerstein barked. “Dammit, Marty, get your head out of your ass. We let these people have free reign for years, and now we’re paying the price for it. I hope to God we’re not too late. At least, she was stopped before she made that call.”

“Yes, that will give us time to spread the word,” Amanda said. “I was careless here; I should have considered the possibility they would have watchdogs in place. The others we need to contact will have them too.”

“You can’t anticipate everything, Amanda,” Hammerstein said.

Amanda gave him an odd look, and then shook her head, “Perhaps not. What disturbs me most is what she said, that Admiral Moeller would not remember we were here after she made her phone call.”

“Do you think they can activate their sleepers over the phone?” Moeller asked.

Amanda shook her head, “Activation would not have caused you to forget our presence. No, I am afraid they have a way to alter the programming over the phone, using sound the same way the optical device uses light.”

“If they could program people over the phone, wouldn’t they have reached everyone they wanted long ago?” Moeller asked. He was thinking again, and getting angry, which was a good sign.

“It may be that they can only use that method to update someone who has already been programmed,” Amanda said.

Hammerstein’s eyes widened, “Susan....”

Amanda nodded. “If she contacts them after she is activated, they could undo Ryan’s safeguards. She would be under their control, just like the Lieutenant.”

  

*****

“More coffee, Mom?” Brandi asked. With Gretchen away for the day, she had taken over kitchen duties.

“Yes, thank you, dear,” Susan replied. “That was an excellent brunch by the way. Were you always such a good cook?”

Brandi nodded as she poured the coffee, “When I was a kid, I used to help Mom in the kitchen a lot, and of course Dad taught me the manly art of grilling.”

“Well, I do remember your skill with a grill,” Susan said, smiling. “That barbecue you had after you were released from the hospital was fantastic. There you were in a wheelchair with one arm in a cast, and you still chased away everyone that tried to help.”

“Talking to the grill master is allowed,” Brandi said seriously. “Telling him how to grill, that is a not.”

“Brandi, I know I’ve asked this before, but are you really happy now? This has nothing to do with what you told me Friday night; I just want to be sure. If a way was found to restore you, would you truly choose to remain as you are?”

“Mom, I…” Brandi started. As Susan watched, it was almost as if she could see her shifting gears. When she continued speaking, Susan knew it was the fragment of her that was still Brandon that was doing the talking.

“Susan, the answer is yes; I am happy, and I would choose to stay Brandi. Are there things about me I would change if I could? Of course there are, but who can really say truthfully there isn’t something about themselves they would change if they could.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s just that I still feel….”

“You are not responsible for what happened,” Brandi interrupted.

“I just want you to have a normal life,” Susan said.

“What’s normal?” Brandi asked. “Susan, for sixteen years I jumped out of aircraft, swam miles underwater or did any number of other things that many people do for recreation, but I used them as a means to get someplace to gather information or blow things up or kill the bad guys. What was abnormal to me was the two years I was stuck in a body that couldn’t do any of that. The fact is that I was born to do this, and even without this body and all its abilities, I was damn good at it.”

Susan smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

“Well, I should get these dishes cleaned up and then go wake up sleepy head.” Brandi smiled. She gathered up their plates and took them into the kitchen. She was just loading them into the dishwasher when she heard Susan cry out.

“Mom, are you all right?” she asked as she rushed back into the dining room. Susan was picking herself up from the floor, a shocked look on her face.

“I’ve just been activated,” she said as Brandi helped her to her feet. “I’m supposed to call in immediately to receive instructions.”

“Are you all right?” Brandi asked again, her face clouding with concern.

“Yes and no,” Susan said. “I feel very different. It’s hard to explain. I feel a very strong need to obey the instructions to call in. I can feel thoughts forcing their way into my mind, and I don’t like them; they’re not mine, but they feel like my thoughts. I know that sounds odd.”

Brandi squeezed her hand gently and shook her head. “Not to me.”

“I had better call,” Susan said. “If I delay too long, they may become suspicious.”

“I’ll get Melissa ready,” Brandi said, heading for the foyer and the stairs.

Susan left the dining room and went into the parlor to use the phone there. She dialed the number that was implanted in her mind and waited for someone to answer.

She never heard a voice, just a series of rapid fire tones that caused her grip on the receiver to tighten. She tried to lower the phone, but found she was unable to move, unable to do anything but listen. She felt her ability to resist the programming being stripped away, and then, seconds later, she wondered why she was trying to resist at all. After all, the organization was right; they were much better suited to run the nation than those currently in power, and she deserved to be a part of the new order.

It took only a few seconds for the programming update to download into Susan’s mind. After the tones faded, she hung up the phone. She had just turned to leave the parlor when the phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered and listened as Amanda spoke hurriedly about what they had learned.

“I’m glad you called Amanda,” Susan said. “They haven’t activated me as yet, but when they do, I’ll have Brandi make the call for instructions; they will be unlikely to have any affect on her.”

Susan listened once more as Amanda updated her on their progress, an unpleasant smile crossing her face.

“I’m pleased you’re making progress. I’ll make sure the girls know.”

Hanging up the phone, Susan returned to the foyer and waited. A few minutes later, Brandi and Melissa came down the stairs.

“Amanda called right after I got the instructions,” Susan said. “She wanted us to know things are going well. I told her about the activation signal and my instructions.”

“So what are they planning,” Brandi asked.

“In a few minutes, a small team will breach the fence on the far side of the estate,” Susan said. “They expect you and the SEALs to investigate when the alarm sounds. While you’re gone, I’m to take Melissa to a car waiting a mile down the road.”

“Pretty much what I expected,” Brandi said. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Susan.

“Please be careful, Mom.”

“I will, darling,” Susan said. “And don’t you worry; we’ll see each other soon.”

  

*****

A mile away from the estate, Mercer and Mitchell waited in the surveillance van, listening to the reports as a small tactical team entered the estate grounds. They had not been told they were a diversion, or that they were facing an entire platoon of Navy SEALs in addition to the girl. To make certain they would provide a sufficient diversion, the team had been programmed with one of the Forerunner devices; they would fight to the last man.

“We have a car approaching,” a voice called over the radio. Moments later, a black Lincoln pulled to a stop and Susan got out, a small revolver in her hand. She motioned towards the passenger seat with the pistol, and Melissa exited the vehicle and was immediately grabbed by two agents and dragged into the van.

“Get us out of here,” Mercer called to the driver after Susan had climbed in with them. The van sped away from the scene.

“You had no problems?” Mercer asked.

“None.” Susan smiled. “You do however. The Genomorph anticipated this move. That geek Ryan tried to screw with my head, but it didn’t work. She thinks I am still her mommy, and that this is all part of the plan.”

“Susan, what are you doing!” Melissa shouted, struggling against the agents holding her. Mitchell drew a collapsible baton from his belt and snapped it out, striking Melissa a sharp blow across the ear. She cried out in pain and shrank back, grasping the side of her face as she cried.

“That was just a love tap, sweetheart,” Mitchell said. “You open your mouth again, and I will really hit you.”

Melissa remained silent, but continued to glare through her tears as Susan told them the entire plan.

“The Genomorph wants you to demand her surrender; she wants you to take her into the lab,” Susan explained. “Once she’s down there, the SEALs will assault the surface to draw the security force out, and then she will break free and disable the uplink from inside.”

“What about her?” Mercer asked, gesturing to Melissa. “Doesn’t she care about what we might do to this one?”

Susan smiled maliciously. “Melissa is almost as resilient as the Genomorph now. During your failed attempt in Los Angeles, she was badly wounded and the Genomorph bonded with her, saturating her body with nano-cyborgs to save her life. Right now, she is being transformed into a physical twin of the Genomorph.”

“So there will be two Genomorphs?” Mercer asked, clearly excited by the possibility.

“No,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Melissa will look like her, and she will have a superior human body, but the more drastic changes can’t be made without the GMU.”

“Do you know the details of the SEAL assault?” Mitchell asked, steering them back towards what he considered paramount. They could talk about scientific matters later.

“Not entirely,” Susan said. “I do know they are parachuting in, and I know their landing zone coordinates.”

Mitchell smiled, “We’ll have to arrange a proper reception.”

  

*****

Brandi surveyed the aftermath of the assault with Matt; six mercenaries lay dead just inside the estate grounds. They had put up a determined fight, but they had been sorely outgunned and outclassed.

“What a waste,” Brandi said. “They just threw these fools away.”

“We had them,” Matt said. “Why didn’t they surrender?”

“Maybe they couldn’t,” Brandi said. “Maybe they used one of those optical devices and turned them into a suicide squad.”

Matt shook his head sadly, “Well, we should probably go check on Melissa and Susan.”

“They’re miles away from here,” Brandi said. She looked at Matt and struggled to hold in her tears. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can do it,” Matt told her. “You can do it for her. I’ll make the call and get the aircraft made ready. They’ll have it prepped in under two hours.”

The pretty blonde nodded. Time was of the essence now; the woman she loved was in the clutches of a vile group of men, and the sooner the plan was in motion, the better she would feel.

~Hold on love, ~ she thought, trying to send all the comfort and encouragement she could through the empathic link they now shared. ~We’re coming; just hold on. ~

They were walking back to the house when she started giggling, and then outright laughing. Matt stopped and looked at her, and when she finally got her laughter under control she explained.

“I just realized today is Halloween,” she said. “Matt, there’s one more thing you haven’t been told about the plan. When you hear it you’ll understand why it’s so appropriate this is all happening today.”

  

CHAPTER 54

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005

0900 EST

Karen was at her workstation in the Pit when Kyle sent word that he needed to see her. She closed the file she was working on and went immediately to his office.

“I just spoke to Admiral Hammerstein,” he said as she entered. “Dr. Covington may have been compromised. At any rate, they made their move and grabbed your friend Melissa. Since Dr. Covington may have told them our plans, we have to move quickly.”

“Susan doesn’t know our plans,” Karen said. “She knows about the information we collected, but she doesn’t know that we found the safe house. Brandi suspected they might be able to use her.”

“Still, we need to get things rolling,” Kyle said. “Get your gear and meet Max at the security checkpoint. As soon as we have a window, we’re going in. Mira and her techs are already on their way.”

Karen nodded and left the office. She went to her room and grabbed her purse and a long coat; the weather had turned cold as Max had predicted, and it was drizzling rain. She met Max at the checkpoint, and they went to a secure garage through a long hallway. As they drove to Arlington, Max gave her some last minute advice.

“Don’t try to be a hero,” she said. “You get the drop on this jerk and call in the troops. Whatever you do, don’t get within arm’s reach of him; he may be a geek, but he is probably a well trained geek.”

“I won’t let you down,” Karen said.

“If I thought you would, we’d have another plan,” Max said. “It’s all right to feel nervous and scared; you’d be a fool if you didn’t. You can use those feelings though. Fear heightens your senses; listen to it, just don’t let it control you.”

They reached Arlington, but Max did not turn down the road that would take them to the safe house.

“Where are we going?” Karen asked.

“Marion left the house twenty minutes ago,” Max said, smiling. “We already have her in custody. We’re meeting Capriatti and his NCIS people to get you ready.”

They pulled into the parking lot of a shopping center not far away, and Karen moved from the car into a gray surveillance van. She saw Marion Rothberg glaring at her from where she was handcuffed in the back, a blanket wrapped around her.

“You people are in so much fucking trouble it isn’t funny,” she snarled.

“Look, lady, you have the right to remain silent; do us a favor and use it,” Capraiatti said as he handed Karen a pile of clothing.

Karen ignored the woman’s glaring as she stripped out of her own clothes and donned a Kevlar vest and then the other woman’s clothes. Once she was dressed, one of the NCIS agents handed her a tiny earpiece, which Karen slipped into her right ear. She did a quick sound check, speaking in a normal voice, and an agent in one of the surveillance vans responded. Feeling a little more secure knowing that everything she said and heard would be monitored, she left the van and got into Marion’s Mercedes. Agent Capriatti stepped up to the driver’s side window and Karen rolled it down. Capriatti passed her revolver to her, nodding his approval as Karen popped the cylinder open and checked the loads before slipping it into the pocket of Marion’s long coat.

“Those are +P loads in there,” he said. “Not as much punch as full magnums, but a lot more than regular thirty-eight specials. Don’t underestimate this guy; identify yourself as a Federal Agent, and if he so much as looks at you funny, you empty that revolver into him.”

Karen drove to the house along the route Marion would have taken. As she turned onto the street, she checked the rear view mirror, but could see no sign of the chase vehicles. They had told her they would hang well back; she would just have to trust that they would be there. Karen pulled into the garage, turned off the ignition, and then popped the trunk so she could get the bags of groceries out.

“We go on your signal,” Capriatti said in her earpiece as she exited the car.

Karen nodded very slightly, knowing the agents would be able to hear everything that went on. If things went bad, they would not wait for her signal. As she walked around to the back of the car, she kept her face down, in case there was a camera watching her.

Adrenaline began rushing through her body as she opened the trunk and lifted the bags, carrying them high to partially obscure her face. She walked up to the door and used the house key on the ring to unlock it. Her eyes scanned the interior as she entered; the door from the garage opening directly into the kitchen.

“I hope you remembered my beer,” a voice called from somewhere upstairs. Karen did not answer. She began removing the items from the bags and setting them on the counter, her left hand in the pocket of her coat. She had to appear normal, and she suspected the first thing Marion would do was put away the groceries, based on the fact that the kitchen was extremely well organized.

“I said I hope you remembered my beer,” the voice repeated, this time right behind her, much too close.

Karen spun and drove her knee up and into the man’s stomach. As he doubled over, she smashed a glass jar of something over his head. He dropped to the floor covered in dill pickle chips as Karen moved away, pulling her hand from her pocket as she gave the signal to move in.

“What the fuck is your problem?” the man screamed as he looked up. His eyes widened as he saw the crystal in her hand and realized she was not Marion.

Karen pressed the button on the back of the crystal. Nothing happened. She pressed it again and still nothing happened. The man on the floor smiled.

“I guess whoever you got that from didn’t mention they have to be recharged frequently,” he said as he started to rise.

Karen backed away further as the man got to his feet, her right hand reaching into the other coat pocket. She pulled the little Smith and Wesson revolver out and snapped back the hammer with her thumb.

“This is fully charged, I assure you,” she said, amazed at how calm her voice sounded. “Federal agent, you’re under arrest.”

The man took a step and Karen squeezed the grip, activating the laser sight. The red dot settled on his chest.

“Move another inch, and I will kill you.”

The front door crashed inward, and simultaneously the French doors to the rear of the dining room were smashed. NCIS agents swarmed into the house and took the man into custody.

Mira and her computer techs were close on their heels, and they immediately rushed upstairs to the computers and started working. Agents spread out through the house and began collecting anything that might possibly be considered evidence.

Karen stayed in the kitchen for a moment and then moved into the dining room where she took a seat at the table. She had no idea how long she sat there before someone set a bottle of Sam Adams beer in front of her. She looked up to see Agent Capriatti grinning as he tipped his own beer to her.

“Great job,” he said.

Karen regarded the beer before her a moment and then lifted the bottle and took a long swig.

“I have never been so scared in my life,” she said as she lowered the bottle.

“If it makes you feel any better, you never showed it,” Max said as she joined them. Capriatti handed her a beer from the grocery bag on the kitchen counter, and Karen gave her a weak smile.

Mira came rushing into the dining room, out of breath from a mad dash down the stairs. She began speaking so fast that they could not understand a word that she was saying. Capriatti passed a beer to her.

“Mira, take a breath and a drink and start over,” Karen said.

“We got it,” Mira said after taking a swig of her beer. “We disabled their security system and disarmed the incendiary charges on the file cabinets.”

“Incendiary charges?” Capriatti asked.

“They were tied into the security system on the hard drives,” Mira said. “If it had triggered, the drives would have wiped and the house would have burned to the ground. I would have told you guys, but we only had three minutes to disable the security system so I figured I should work on that.”

Karen drained the last of her beer and stood up, still feeling more than a bit shaky. Being part of the actual arrest and seizure had been exciting, but she had been aware the whole time that she was very much out of her element.

“All right, we have to get everything back to CTAG,” she said. “I assume the computer files are encrypted; how long do you think it will take to crack them?”

Mira shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly can’t say. From what I saw after a quick scan, the encryption is much more sophisticated on these files. It could take weeks.”

Karen looked towards the front door, where agents were already carrying out metal cabinets filled with files.

“We do it the old fashioned way then, one piece of paper at a time,” she said.

Karen walked out with Max to a waiting car and got in. They were several blocks away from the house when she began shaking. Max reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

“It’s OK to cry, Karen,” she said. “I still do.”

  

CHAPTER 55

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005

1230 EST

The Pentagon was at its highest state of alert, with armed troops guarding every sensitive area and patrolling the corridors. Before any were armed, Amanda first checked them with the Forerunner scanner to ensure they had no sleeper programming. If they did, the optical device was used to remove it; all of the Joint Chiefs and their staff had already been cleaned of any programming.

Unfortunately, the scanner could not detect those whose programming had already been active for more than a few months, like Lieutenant Stewart. Her scan showed nothing abnormal, since the programming had been active long enough to totally replace her original personality.

“She was a fine officer,” Admiral Moeller said. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

Amanda shook her head sadly. “There’s very little chance we can restore her. If they have a scan recorded of her original personality matrix, the GMU in Nevada could restore it, but it’s very unlikely they even made one. The best we could do is construct a matrix to approximate the person she once was. The human mind is very complex; who can say what is truly in the mind of another, even someone we think we know.”

“We’ll do all we can for her when this is over,” Hammerstein said. “For now, she is an enemy agent; totally committed to their cause.”

“Just like Susan is now,” Amanda said.

“We don’t know that,” Hammerstein told her, but he did not really believe his own words.

Admiral Moeller’s phone buzzed. He picked up the receiver and listened for a moment, then hung up the phone and turned to Hammerstein, his face grim.

“The Bonhomme Richard was on its way to the Persian Gulf to relieve Boxer, but she is now returning to San Diego at full steam,” Moeller said. “As soon as she is in range, the 15^th MEU will disembark and relieve your SEALs in Nevada. They will secure the area for the remainder of this crisis.”

“What about the President?” Hammerstein asked.

“The President’s programming was activated, apparently by a member of his Secret Service detail,” Moeller said. “There was an exchange of gunfire between members of the President’s protective detail, and the Marine detail sent to secure him. There were casualties on both sides, but no fatalities and the President is unharmed. He has been detained and, under Section Four of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, declared unfit to fulfill the duties of the office. Fortunately, we were able to secure the members of the cabinet and the Vice President before their guardians could trigger their programming. The Vice President is now Acting President. What we need to know is, are they making their move?”

Amanda shook her head. “They would have activated all of their sleepers at once. The agent likely had programming similar to your aide’s, which caused him to act when it appeared the President was going to be alerted. As long as they are unaware that we have the President secured, we have time.”

“They’ll know soon,” Moeller said. “The President was at his ranch. The press heard the gunfire. They were told it was a demonstration, but that won’t hold water long.”

“How long before the 15^th can deploy?” Hammerstein asked.

“At least twelve hours,” Moeller said. “Your SEALs are on their own until then.”

Amanda looked at her watch; it had been almost six hours since Melissa had been taken. By now she was certainly deep within the lab. Amanda felt certain they would not harm Melissa; not until Brandi was there to see it and know the price of disobedience.

“All we can do is wait,” she said.

  

*****

At Amanda’s estate, Brandi lifted the phone in the parlor on the second ring. She listened as the voice on the other end spoke.

“You know what we want,” Evan Mitchell’s voice said. “Be at the lab by midnight local time. Come alone and unarmed and don’t be late; at one minute after, I give your girlfriend to the boys here.”

“That’s less than fourteen hours away,” Brandi said. “How do you expect me to get there that fast?”

“You’ve got connections, use them,” Mitchell said. “Just make sure you’re alone. We see on sign of your SEAL buddies and your girlfriend will pay the price.”

“I’ll be there,” Brandi said. “If you hurt her, I will kill every last one of you.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” Mitchell said. “We are going to have such fun.”

Brandi set the receiver down and turned to Matt Branch.

“We’re on,” she said.

  

CHAPTER 56

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005

1800 EST/1500 PST

Melissa paced restlessly in the room they had locked her in. She desperately wanted a cigarette, but they had taken everything but the clothes she wore.

~It’s a good thing they didn’t try to take those, ~   

She looked around the room and sighed. There wasn’t a lot to it; a hospital style bed, a night stand and dresser and a tiny bathroom.

~It would have to be this room. Well it is Halloween, that’s kind of appropriate. ~

She had been taken by the van to a waiting helicopter, and then to a small airport where a jet was waiting. The flight to Nellis had taken three hours, and then another half hour by helicopter to the lab. She had been locked in the room now for several hours, and it was now just after three PM local time. The plan was to wait as long as possible, and she figured she had five or six hours before things started happening. By then, it would be almost eighteen hours since she was taken.

She needed to do what she could to conserve her energy, so she crawled on the bed and began meditating, forcing herself to relax. It was not easy; she was extremely worried about Susan; during the flight, she had been able to feel the frustration and horror within her, but it was buried deep, totally dominated by the personality that had been imprinted upon her. That personality was growing stronger by the minute, and she knew Ryan had been wrong; they did not have weeks or even days, but hours at best. If the programming was not removed by morning, Susan would be lost forever.

She pushed the worry and fear from her mind; she had to be ready. At last, she was able to slip into a state very close to Zen sleep, and her energy consumption decreased dramatically. She set her internal alarm clock to bring her out of it in five hours. Then it would be time to go to work.

  

*****

“November Two Five Seven Alpha Zulu, you are cleared to land on runway 35R,” senior air traffic controller Fred Knowles drawled as he watched his display. “Wind is out of the west at four knots.”

Knowles leaned back as the pilot acknowledged. He heard the door to the tower control room open and looked up to see Ken Harrison, the manager of Jean Airport, enter. Jean was a small facility a few miles south of Las Vegas. It served mainly small private aircraft, but today it was getting a very big visitor.

“Do you have anyone else inbound after that Beechcraft?” Harrison asked.

“Got a Cessna due in twenty minutes,” Knowles said.

“Hold him at the outer marker,” Harrison told him. “If he can’t hold for at least thirty minutes, divert him. After this plane is down, we are closed to all traffic until further notice.”

“What the hell for?” Knowles demanded.

“How should I know?” Harrison said. “The FAA called and gave me the word to shut down and wait for someone from the Pentagon to contact us. They called as soon as I hung up and said we are to clear the runways for an incoming C-17 Globemaster III.”

“Our runway isn’t wide enough for a Globemaster,” Knowles protested. “Even if it was, it will never take the weight.”

“That won’t matter,” Harrison told him. “The plane isn’t actually touching down.”

  

*****

“Well this is a new experience,” Brandi said as she checked her restraints. She was buckled into the front passenger seat of a Humvee, which was loaded in the cargo hold of the massive C-17 Globemaster III along with three others. Matt Branch sat behind the wheel, and in the back were Chief Wright and Ryan Sanders. The rest of the platoon was in the other vehicles, all of which were secured to cargo pallets made of shock absorbing material.

“For us too,” Branch said. “This isn’t a standard, or approved, method of insertion.”

“The loadmaster said they do this all the time,” Ryan shouted as the ramp on the back of the plane began lowering.

“They do,” Branch shouted back, “just not with people in the vehicles!”

Brandi opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment the loadmaster hit a switch and the cargo chute attached to the pallet beneath the Hummer deployed. With a mighty yank, the four ton vehicle was pulled back and out of the cargo hold, and her words were twisted into an adrenaline charged scream.

The Globemaster bounced up slightly as the Hummer left the hold, doubling its altitude of ten feet above the ground, before settling back and releasing the next Hummer as the first hit the grass of the infield between the runways of the small airport. The pallet bounced once and then slid about eighty feet before stopping, leaving a huge gouge in the grass. Chief Wright hit the button on a remote detonator, and with a series of loud bangs the straps securing the vehicle to the pallet were released.

As Branch put the Hummer in gear and moved off the pallet, Brandi looked back. The last of the four Hummers was just hitting the ground, the C-17 already climbing away from the airport.

“That was fun!” Brandi shouted as they sped towards Interstate Five, which ran parallel to the airport less than two thousand feet away.

“I wonder if they would let us do it again?”

  

*****

Admiral Hammerstein turned to Amanda as he set the phone down.

“They’re on the ground,” he said. “Do you know why Brandi changed the plan at the last minute?”

Amanda smiled. “Remember, Michael, despite the way she acts, Brandi thinks much faster than the finest computer. I believe she suspected that Susan would be turned.”

A smirk spread across the Hammer’s face as he said, “And she was afraid we might be too. If we just had a dozen like her….”

“Be careful, Michael,” Amanda cautioned. “That’s the way the people we are fighting think. The Forerunners too thought the Genomorphs could put an end to their war, but in the end their world was still destroyed. Weapons are a necessity of the times we live in, but the way to peace is in creating harmony, not destruction.”

  

*****

The Hummer carrying Brandi and Ryan split off from the other three at a rest area south of Las Vegas. Matt pulled the Hummer up next to a Kenworth tractor with a refrigerated trailer hooked up behind it. Arnie Belcher stepped down from the cab when he saw the pretty blonde and walked over and gave her a warm hug. She made quick introductions and then climbed into the passenger seat of the tractor. With the Hummer in the lead, they pulled back out on the interstate and headed north once more.

“It’s really great to see you again,” Arnie said. “How ya been doin’, Brandi?”

The blonde looked at him a bit apprehensively and said, “There was something you weren’t told on the phone, Arnie. We were pretty sure they couldn’t listen in, but just in case we had to keep part of the plan secret until now.”

Arnie listened as she explained the rest of the elaborate plan, a smile slowly creeping to his face.

“Well, I guess them folks are gonna be sorry they ever messed with you girls,” Arnie said when she had finished.

The other three vehicles with the bulk of the platoon continued north into Las Vegas and exited onto US 95. They took the highway northwest, out of the city and into the desert. Just west of Indian Springs, they turned north on a dirt track that took them into the Nellis Air Force Bombing Range. The area was vast and patrols were sparse, but the SEALs maintained a careful watch.

The secrecy of the lab played into their hands here; heavy security patrols along the dirt road would only attract attention. The organization had long relied on the mask of anonymity, and it had worked well. It also helped that the lab was located close, but not too close, to Area 51, which tended to attract all the attention. Area 51 was big and flashy; easily visible in numerous satellite photos on the internet. The facility where the real alien artifacts were kept was tiny in comparison, at least on the surface.

The dirt road took them north and west, winding through the ridges and canyons until it crossed into the Nevada Test Site southeast of Frenchman Flat. They pulled off the road and concealed the Hummers in the rocks. Ten minutes later, Arnie’s truck and the fourth Hummer arrived. Arnie pulled his truck partially off the road, turned on the flashers and then climbed down from the cab and raised the hood. The last Hummer pulled up the road well past him and then stopped. Ryan placed a small dish antenna on the roof of the Hummer and started his laptop. Through the satellite link, he hacked into the tracking system for the disbursement center at Nellis Air Force Base.

“Got him,” he said. “He’s about fifteen minutes out.”

Matt Branch nodded and ordered the SEALs into position over the radio.

“What if the truck doesn’t stop?” Ryan asked.

“We’ll stop it,” Matt said. “Don’t worry, he’ll stop. The drivers don’t have a clue about where they’re taking these loads; they think it’s just an Air Force monitoring station.”

Precisely on schedule, an eighteen wheeler appeared to the south, and when it neared Arnie’s truck, the driver hit the brakes. The semi came to a halt and both trucks were enveloped in a cloud of dust. The driver didn’t even bother trying to call in; it was pointless in the desolate location.

The swirling dust settled as he climbed down from his cab, revealing the SEALs in desert pattern camo, their weapons visible and ready though not pointed directly at him.

“Sorry, hoss, but we gotta borrow your rig for a bit,” Arnie said.

The outraged driver was bound and gagged and put in the cab of Arnie’s truck; which was then pulled around and backed up to the other trailer. The seal on the Air Force truck was broken and the doors opened, and then the SEALs laid a pair of steel ramps between the two trailers and began transferring some of the cargo.

Ryan meanwhile collected the paperwork from the Air Force truck and then set up his lap top in the sleeper of Arnie’s rig. Arnie had a compact but well equipped office in the sleeper, complete with a multi-function laser printer. Ryan scanned the manifest into his computer, and then proceeded to alter it; he changed the seal number to match the one they would affix when the transfer of cargo was complete and changed the departure time to account for the delay they were causing. Finally, he altered the driver’s name and information to match the ID he had prepared for Arnie.

About twenty minutes later, the job was done. Arnie’s truck was pulled well off the road and concealed in a canyon. The Hummers disappeared into the desert as Arnie started up the truck. He paused to look west, where the sun was dipping low towards the horizon, and then pulled the truck and its slightly altered cargo onto the road.

  

CHAPTER 57

MONDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2005

2100 EST/1800 PST

The dust cloud generated by the approaching semi was visible for several minutes before the truck reached the gate to the compound in the Nevada desert. There were men clad in desert pattern BDUs massing within the perimeter, and as the driver lowered his window, one stepped out of the gatehouse, his weapon trained on the cab.

“Step down from the vehicle and bring your manifest,” he said.

The driver did as he was ordered, running his hand nervously through his thick mop of red hair as he handed his clipboard to the guard.

“You boys sho are a might touchy tonight,” he drawled. He looked around at the armed men who were obviously preparing to move out

“Just a routine drill,” the guard said. He was fairly annoyed that he was not going to be part of the ambush of the incoming Navy SEALs. They knew their landing zone and their ETA; it would be a massacre.

“What’s in the trailer?”

“The usual Monday load’a food an’ such,” the driver said. “Looks like you boys get ta eat good for another week.”

“Yeah, right,” the guard said as he scanned the trucker’s manifest and compared it to the one he had. As he read off the contents — prime rib, steaks, fresh vegetables and other assorted treats — he swore silently. He would never taste any of it; the people inside got the good food while the troops up top were stuck with MREs.

“All right, open her up, and let’s have a look,” the guard said. If he had been one of the regular gate guards, he might have noticed that this was not the usual driver, but the regular security personnel were all deep within the lab. All he cared about was that the paperwork was in order.

The driver walked around to the back of the trailer, popping the seal and handing it to the guard. He compared the number on the seal to that on the manifest, nodding when they matched, and motioned for the driver to open the doors.

A blast of cold air swept across the two men as the doors opened, revealing heavy duty cardboard boxes stacked floor to ceiling in the refrigerated trailer. The guard’s mouth began watering as he saw the cases marked ‘steak: rib eye’.

Climbing up into the trailer, the guard pulled a few boxes down and set them aside, revealing more stacked behind them. He opened up the cases he had pulled down and gazed hungrily at the frozen steaks. Satisfied and frustrated at the same time, he jumped down from the trailer and had the driver seal it.

A second guard came out of the gatehouse with a mirror for inspecting the undercarriage, and for the next twenty minutes they examined the truck thoroughly for hidden explosives or anything out of the ordinary.

“All right, you can drop this one at the dock and pick up the empty,” the guard told the driver as he returned the manifest to him. The big trucker climbed back into the cab and, once the gate was opened, drove forward. He followed a road along the perimeter that took him around the hangar and to the rear of the main building. There was a loading dock there, and the driver expertly backed the trailer into it next to the empty trailer from the previous week’s delivery.

He climbed out of the cab, and with practiced speed, he uncoupled the trailer, then pulled the tractor forward and maneuvered it back to the empty. Once he had reconnected the lines, he walked over to the trailer he had just dropped and hooked a power line from the building into the refrigeration unit; one thing the facility was sorely lacking was adequate space for cold storage, and the trailers were used as large walk-in freezers. As the driver headed back to the cab, he passed behind the trailer and stopped just long enough to unlatch the doors, and then returned to the cab and climbed in.

The truck stopped once more at the gate, and the guards made a quick check to insure the trailer was empty, and then waved the driver on his way. Arnie Belcher grinned as the compound grew smaller in his rear view mirror. He guessed the mercenaries had never heard of the Trojan Horse. He was still grinning an hour later when he reached the highway, and he turned and headed towards the canyon where they had left the real delivery driver tied up in the back of Arnie’s truck.

“That boy’s prolly plenty mad now.” Arnie chuckled. Arnie would keep the Air Force driver company until he got word that the operation was over, and then send him on his way and head back to Alabama. Brandi wanted to minimize his exposure as much as possible, which suited Arnie just fine.

Undoubtedly the driver would report the incident to his superiors. If all went well, it wouldn’t matter; the Pentagon would take care of the situation. If all didn’t go well — then it really wouldn’t matter. The Joint Chiefs and the Vice President were no longer in danger from the signal, but with an unknown number of sleepers still at large, some no doubt high ranking military officers, if the signal was sent the nation could well be in the midst of a civil war in a matter of hours.

Back inside the compound, hidden in the trailer in a void behind the stacks of boxes, Matt, Ryan and ten SEALs waited for the mercenaries to move out.

  

*****

“Make sure you pull the trucks back to the east once you deploy, Baxter,” Evan Mitchell told the commander of the ambush unit. Fifty of the security force were clambering into the backs of two five ton trucks for the journey to the landing zone of the SEALs.

Susan had told them that the SEALs were scheduled to insert around eleven that night. The drop zone was twenty miles away, making it a good five hour hike through the rugged terrain. That would place the SEAL platoon in position to strike in the early morning hours, when the men who had been on duty through the night would be the most tired and the rest would be soundly asleep.

“The SEALs are coming in from the west, and if they see those trucks, they’ll know the LZ is compromised,” Mitchell continued. “You give them that, and they’ll tear you to pieces.”

“I know all that, Mitch,” Baxter said. “Those swabbies are worms on a hook. We’ll take ‘em, no problem.”

Mitchell nodded; he did not expect the SEALs to survive the ambush, but he was certain they would inflict heavy casualties on the mercenaries before they went down. That was one reason Mitchell was not leading the ambush personally, the other being he had no intention of missing the girl’s arrival. He wanted to see her face when she learned her little plan had been ripped to shreds.

One mile from the compound, Petty Officer Lewis watched through the scope of his M-107 sniper rifle. He did not even need his night vision scope; the compound was lit up like the Vegas strip.

Lewis watched as the security chief, Mitchell, talked to the officer in charge of the ambush unit. Half a mile away on another ridge, Kevin Darrow also had the pair in his sights. With just a slight pressure on their triggers, they could eliminate the two men in seconds, but that was not part of the plan. They needed everything in place before they made their move.

It took nearly an hour for the trucks to get loaded; the men were in no particular hurry and not very well disciplined. Once the last mercenary was on board, they moved out of the compound. Lewis watched them until they were out of sight and then returned his attention to the compound. The remaining troops were in their positions around the perimeter, scanning the desert.

A little less than an hour later, the trucks came to a stop and the mercenaries unloaded. Though only twenty miles from the compound, there were no roads to the LZ and the trucks had to drive around several large ridges. They would walk the remaining mile to the ambush site, which would still put them in position more than two hours before the SEALs were set to arrive. Baxter left two men with the trucks, and the rest of the unit disappeared into the night.

Chief Wright and Enrique Vasquez gave them thirty minutes to be sure they were far away from the trucks. Then they crept forward in the darkness like two shadows. Once they had good positions, they each raised a silenced Mk23 pistol and sent a pair of forty five caliber slugs into the brains of the two guards.

Chief Wright turned towards the area they had approached from and gave a hand signal, and a Humvee emerged from the darkness. As the vehicle pulled to a halt, Wright walked to the driver’s side window.

“You’re up, sweetheart,” he said to the pretty blonde. “You watch yourself now.”

The blonde started giggling.

“Watch myself,” she said. “That’s really funny.”

Wright smiled as the Hummer pulled away, and then turned to Vasquez.

“The trucks aren’t going anywhere, Chief,” Vasquez told him. “If they’re dumb enough to try to start them, they’re gonna get a nasty surprise too.”

“Outstanding,” Wright said. “Get our ride; we need to get into position before she gets there.”

  

*****

2400 EST/21:00 PST

Deep beneath the desert, ‘Melissa’ rose from the bed. As she did, her jeans, t-shirt and sneakers shimmered, and began shifting about her, even as her body itself changed. In seconds, Brandi had reverted to her true form, her biomorphic armor covering her from the neck down. She went to the door and grasped the handle, bypassing the lock and the alarm.

The guard outside the door barely had time for the shock to register on his face as she grabbed his head with both hands. His eyes glazed over as she overrode his central nervous system, rendering him unconscious almost instantly. She dragged him back into the room and was out the door before his unconscious body had crumpled to the floor.

In the security center, the two guards on duty noticed nothing amiss. The camera monitoring the dark haired girl showed she was still asleep on the bed in her room, and the one in the hall showed the bored guard at his station. Brandi figured she had about fifteen minutes before the cameras would stop looping, but that was all the time she needed.

Brandi’s real plan had never involved letting her enemies get any closer to Melissa than necessary, and it had been Susan’s words when she was explaining what she knew of the bonding process that had triggered the information she needed.

“… Melissa’s genetic code is being rewritten to match yours,” Susan had told them. “The nano-cyborgs cannot do it quickly though. It will take days, possibly even weeks for them to complete the process, as long as you don’t introduce more into her system.”

Brandi had known then that she could accelerate the process, and she could do it not only by introducing more of the nano-cyborgs, but also by channeling her energy as she had when she healed Melissa; the same energy which had been used to transform her. That night, as she and Melissa had lain entwined in Zen sleep, Melissa had gone through a rapid change, and in the morning she was Brandi’s twin, at least to the eye. She was not a Genomorph, but she was far from an ordinary human being too.

The main purpose was to sow confusion; the enemy’s attention was focused on the surface where they thought the Genomorph was, totally unaware that the predator was stalking the inside of the lab. However, there was an added benefit they had learned upon awakening that morning; as a result of their ‘consummation’ of the bonding, the empathetic link between them was much stronger. It was still not true telepathy, but Brandi knew that everything on the surface was going according to plan.

Brandi’s job was threefold; cut off communications between the surface and the lab, disable the uplink to slow down the sending of the signal, and secure the data in the computer files. She could knock out those objectives without even leaving the uppermost level of the complex. Avoiding the roving security patrols, she made her way through the maze of corridors until she reached the section housing the offices of the senior research scientists. She knew exactly which office she needed.

  

*****

On the surface at the loading dock behind the main building, the doors of the trailer opened slowly until there was a tiny gap between them. A small fiberoptic cable snaked through the opening, twisting left and right as it scanned the loading dock.

“It looks clear,” Matt Branch said as he studied the LCD screen in his hands. He withdrew the cable, and then pushed the door open enough for him to slip out. He moved quickly across the dock and took a position behind a large crate. He scanned the area and then motioned towards the truck. One by one, the SEALs slipped out and took up positions around the loading dock. The last person out of the truck was Ryan Sanders, who looked terribly uncomfortable in the Interceptor body armor he wore. He joined Matt behind the crate and dropped to his knees.

“This stuff is damned uncomfortable,” he grumbled.

“You’re lucky,” Matt said. “It’s ten pounds lighter than the old armor. How long to get the door open?”

“However long it takes,” Ryan said. “If I slip up once, it will trigger the alarm, and the whole place will lock down.”

“Get started then, but for God’s sake, keep low,” Branch said.

Ryan nodded and moved to the door leading into the building. He took a small power screwdriver from a pocket on his vest and quickly removed the panel for the card reader next to the door. Once the wiring was exposed, he clipped leads to several of the lines and then stretched the wires back to the crate where Matt was positioned. He took his laptop from the case slung over his right shoulder and opened it up. Once the computer had booted up and he had the proper program started, he attached the leads from the panel to it.  

“Oh boy, this is not going to be easy,” Ryan said as he looked at the screen.

“We have a saying in the SEALs, Mr. Sanders,” Branch whispered. “The only easy day was yesterday.”

  

*****

“Well, I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Susan said as she entered the office that had once been hers.

Barbara Currant looked up from her desk and smiled, “Yes, it was a little bare when I arrived.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” Susan snapped. “I intend to resume my duties.”

“I hope you can,” Barbara said. “You did remarkable work here, work that should have benefited a lot of people. It’s a shame it was suppressed.”

“It was suppressed for a good reason,” Susan said, eyeing Barbara suspiciously. “The breakthroughs I made are a potential source of great power for someone who knows how to wield it.”

Barbara shook her head sadly. “You don’t really believe that, not deep within yourself.”

“I was a fool, I see that now,” Susan said.

“I see,” Barbara said. “Tell me, Susan, have you ever seen one of these?”

Barbara raised one of the purple crystal pendants from her desk and activated it. Susan’s eyes dilated as they were dazzled by the brilliant purple flash, and she stared blankly ahead.

“Sit down on the couch,” Barbara ordered, and Susan complied without hesitation.

Opening a drawer, Barbara took an optical programmer from her desk and walked over to sit next to Susan. She knew the initial programming had been implanted in Susan many months before, and that had since been altered by Ryan and then again when Susan called in after she was activated. Without one of the scanner devices, trying to alter the programming again was very risky, but there was a much simpler alternative. Barbara had been able to locate the data for Susan’s original personality matrix, and the device was programmed to, in effect, reinstall that. Placing the device over Susan’s eyes, she activated it, and it began restoring her predecessor.

“Just relax, Susan,” Barbara said, knowing Susan really had no choice. “In a few minutes, you’ll be yourself again.”

The door to the office opened, and Barbara looked up to see Brandi, whose face clouded with fury as she saw Susan there with the device over her eyes.

“Get away from her!”

“Brandi wait!” Barbara cried, rising from the couch.

Brandi moved with startling speed, her hands flying up to grasp Barbara’s face. But as soon as she made contact, she recoiled, a look of confusion crossing her face. When she touched Barbara, she received a strong sensation that she was not a threat. There could only be one reason she would get that feeling.

“You’re Amanda’s contact,” Brandi said.

Barbara sighed in relief. “Yes, I am. She and I, well, we have known each other for some time.”

As Brandi studied the woman before her, she was struck by the same feeling she had experienced when she met Melissa — that she had met her before. But again like Melissa, her memory held no image that corresponded to this woman. She shook off the feeling and turned to Susan.

“I’m removing the programming,” Barbara explained. “She’ll be back to her old self in about thirty minutes.”

Brandi nodded. “Thank you. Now I need to use your computer to access the mainframe.”

“Be my guest,” Barbara said. “If you hope to disable the signal, I don’t have the access codes for that. Even if I did, the signal can still be sent manually; it will just take more time to align the dish.”

“I am the access code,” Brandi said. “And a delay is all I need. My friends will take care of the rest.”

Barbara watched in fascination as Brandi sat down at the desk and placed her hands on the computer’s keyboard. Her fingers did not move, but her eyes appeared to lose focus as she established a connection with the computer and, through it, to the entire network within the lab.

For a brief instant, Brandi was stunned as a tremendous amount of data flooded her mind. She had interfaced with their home network many times since she had discovered the ability, but the lab’s network was far larger. She was quickly able to adjust to the incoming information though, as her brain operated far faster than the computer.

Her first task was to lock out all the command codes, effectively giving her exclusive access to the higher functions of the computer system. Any activity requiring security clearance was rendered inaccessible, which included the computer link to program and align the satellite dish. She also inserted a new code that Ryan and the SEALs could use to enter the lab once she had secured the freight elevator. She added in a few little personal touches; when certain people tried to use their codes, they would get a little greeting. She wanted them to know that they had messed with the wrong blonde.

Once that was taken care of, she locked out the communications lines with the surface and secured all the elevators. Until she released them, no one was taking the easy way out of the lab. Next, she secured the doors to the stairwell, cutting off that escape route as well. Finally, she secured the file room and the server farm, so that no one could physically destroy any data.

There was no way to unlock the exterior doors of the main building above; they were on an independent system which was why Ryan had been brought along. She could only hope he could get the team inside before they were detected; even with the mercenaries in the ambush unit effectively out of the fight, the SEALs were still outnumbered more than four to one by the mercenaries on the surface. They had to get into the building; its reinforced concrete walls would provide them a stronghold from which they could hold off the security force

With the complex secured, she took a moment to look around. Actually, it was less than thirty seconds; she was directly linked to the network and could access any portion of it almost instantly. She could have done it even faster, but her mind was limited by the speed of the system.

The first thing she noted was that, by and large, the data was the same as what Karen and the CTAG people had gotten access to, so she went deeper. She knew how these people thought, how they operated. There would be files that were not accessible remotely, and they would tell her what she really wanted to know.

She was not looking for evidence, not trying to build a criminal case. Even with the proverbial smoking gun, she knew the people behind this would never be prosecuted; it would be far too scandalous. That suited Brandi just fine; a lengthy trial would inevitably lead to her being exposed. All that mattered was that they were dealt with, and she would see to that one way or another.

She found the file easily enough, the file named Genomorph. From it, she learned that the organization had learned of the Genomorph Protocol twenty years earlier, and since that time had focused a significant portion of their resources on locating a functioning GMU. The file confirmed what they had suspected; that Brandon had been identified as having the desired genetic sequences for the Genomorph Protocol, long before Susan had pushed to have the machine used to help him. In fact, he had been singled out when he entered the Naval Academy. They had identified his warrior genes after genetic tests were run using blood samples taken for his pre-entry physical.

Then she read a document that chilled her to her very soul.

Midshipman Anderson has expressed a desire to enter the submarine service upon graduation. This career choice does not fit within our plans for him, and steps should be taken to ensure he chooses a different path. Information from his psychological profile indicates that a tragedy, specifically the loss of his parents in a violent crime, could push him in the direction of special operations. He would be an excellent candidate for SEAL training, and would excel in this career, just as he would likely excel in any career he chose. However, as a SEAL he would be in a position where he can be placed in high risk situations in order to evaluate his inherent combat abilities. Should another functioning Genetic Modification Unit with the modifications necessary to create a Genomorph be located, steps can be taken to proceed with the transformation.

“Another functioning GMU?” Brandi muttered. She continued processing the data as she searched through the files for any indication that they had another device.

ADDENDUM

The operation to eliminate Brandon Anderson’s parents was successful, and the agent involved was not compromised. Agent Evan Mitchell did an outstanding job carrying out the task. Neighbors were programmed to provide information identifying two known area drug users as the assailants, and the two scapegoats were also programmed to believe they had carried out the assault. They were subsequently arrested and have been charged with capital murder.

Brandi almost lost the link as she felt waves of rage and grief wash over her simultaneously. Four lives destroyed; her parents the night they were murdered and then the two young men who had been convicted and executed for the crime, all to maneuver her…maneuver Brandon into the SEALs. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, but she fought them back; now was not the time. She would mourn her parents anew later. She forced herself to continue her investigation, her fury growing all the while.

There was much more information, tracking Brandon’s career and performance. He had been watched, and manipulated, for his entire adult life and never even knew it. And then the machine was located in Iraq. They had the means to create a Genomorph; all they needed was a candidate.  

Intelligence has revealed the existence of a functioning GMU with the Genomorph Protocol installed in Iraq, not far from Baghdad. This fits in perfectly with our plans, as Lt. Commander Anderson’s SEAL platoon is currently deployed in that region as part of the search for WMDs. An operation is being prepared to secure the GMU and any other artifacts at the site and Lt. Commander Anderson’s platoon will be tasked with the mission.

Given the subject’s nature, his commitment to the well being of those under his command and his established history of going to extreme lengths to complete a mission, it is likely that if presented with a situation which places his men and the mission at great risk, he will act to preserve the lives of his men, even at the cost of his own. As the GMU is capable of reviving a deceased subject as long as seventy-two hours after death, and even longer if the body is cryogenically preserved, and as a deceased subject is revived with only the programming introduced by the GMU and retains no identity or memory of the past, it is believed that this outcome should be encouraged. The Director has ordered that intelligence regarding the special security forces monitoring the compound will be compartmentalized and withheld from those connected with the planning and execution of the mission. Once the subject is deceased, retrieval forces stationed nearby will move in to recover the body and place it in cryogenic storage until the GMU can be made operational.

ADDENDUM

Lt. Commander Anderson was not killed as had been hoped, due to unforeseen circumstances. An SAR mission that had just completed an unsuccessful search for a downed aircrew was returning to base when the SEAL platoon sent out their request for air support. The escorting gunships drove off the remaining Iraqis, and the rescue helicopter was able to transport Anderson to a field hospital where he was stabilized. His wounds are extremely severe, but he is expected to survive.

It is recommended that we now proceed through Dr. Susan Covington. She has expressed a degree of guilt over the injuries Anderson received, and has already spoken of the possibility that the GMU could be used to repair the damage. This possibility should be encouraged during the initial study and evaluation of the recovered GMU. Existence of the original unit should be kept secret, especially from Dr. Covington.

Reginald Mercer, Director of Operations

As she withdrew from the computer system Brandi shuddered; they had wanted Brandon dead. They had wanted an empty, lifeless shell that they could turn into a robot. They had wanted a killing machine. From what she read, she would have awakened with all of her current abilities and the impressionable mind of a child, ready for them to shape to their will. Even the warrior genes that made her resistant to control could likely have been defeated with proper indoctrination.

“Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered. She touched the keyboard again and, once linked to the computer, she reactivated Evan Marshall’s command code. She knew that he was on the surface now, waiting for her to arrive. Once the shooting started, he would undoubtedly seek shelter in the lab, which was exactly where she wanted him. His code would work only one time, and only to allow him back into the lab. She also disabled the code she had inserted to allow the SEALs access to the lab. Once Mitchell was inside, he was hers and hers alone.

“Are you all right?”

Brandi turned and looked at Barbara, her face devoid of any emotion. Even though Barbara had never met Brandi before this night, she was startled by the utter lack of feeling in her eyes. She was very different from the girl who had entered the office a short time ago; different and frightening.

“There are files here that suggest another GMU exists,” Brandi said. “Do you know anything about it?”

Barbara hesitated, but realized that Brandi would know if she did not answer honestly.

“Yes, another unit was discovered, over ten years before the one in Iraq,” she said. “It was not capable of creating a Genomorph however.”

“Why not?”

“The GMU that transformed you has additional components,” Barbara explained. “They make up the Genomorph Module, and that is what controls the protocol for creating a Genomorph.”

“And where is this other unit now?”

“I have no idea,” Barbara said. “It was set up at one time in the same chamber the current unit is in; it’s the only place large enough besides the vault, and that is packed full of artifacts. The original GMU was moved to storage before Susan joined the project, but it’s not there now, and I was unable to find any record of what was done with it.”

Barbara was holding something back; Brandi could tell that, even without any of her enhanced senses. She did sense that Barbara was on her side though, and that there was no attempt to mislead her regarding their current situation.

~ I got the same feeling from Amanda. They know something they aren’t telling me - something about me. ~

“We’ll have to deal with that later,” Brandi said aloud. “When I leave this room, you’ll be locked in; I’ve secured all the offices and quarters. I don’t need any geeks wandering around getting in the line of fire.”

Brandi walked to the door, pausing as she reached it and turning to look back at Susan.

“When she comes out of it, tell her … tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Barbara nodded. There was a cold fury burning in Brandi’s eyes, and Barbara was very glad she was one of the good guys. She stepped quickly to her desk and opened the center drawer.

“Brandi, wait, take this,” she said as she pulled a small automatic pistol out.

Brandi smiled — a cold, hard smile — and shook her head. “You may need it more than me. I am the weapon, remember?”

  

CHAPTER 58

In the main control center of the lab, Reginald Mercer and the Man watched a news report on the incident at the President’s ranch. Their agents on his security detail had reported nothing out of the ordinary, but combined with indications they had received that the Pentagon had gone to a high state of alert, the report was more than a little disturbing.

“Something is wrong; we have to initiate the activation process immediately,” the Man said. “Contact Mitchell and get a status report.”

Mercer nodded and grabbed a phone from one of the consoles, as the technicians began typing commands into the computer.

“I can’t reach the surface,” Mercer said. “All the lines are out.”

“Sir, the entire network is down,” one of the technicians said. “The computer is not accepting any command codes.”

Mercer set the phone down and tried typing his personal code into the computer. A look of unbridled rage crossed his face as he read the words that appeared on the screen.

Sorry, Reg, but that just isn’t doing it for me … I guess you hear that a lot though….

“She’s here,” Mercer growled. “She got inside and into the computer somehow. The whole facility is locked down, and we can’t access the control system for the uplink.”

“Security, what’s the status on the prisoner?” The Man asked, as he keyed the intercom control on another console. Communications within the lab were still functioning at least.

In the security center, one of the guards glanced at the monitor screen and saw the girl still sleeping. He was about to respond when she vanished in the blink of an eye, and the body of the guard from the hall appeared on the floor.

“Sir, I was looking right at the screen, and she disappeared! The guard is down.”

“She didn’t get inside,” the Man said, turning to Mercer. “You brought her in. Go to the security center and coordinate what personnel we have down here into some kind of defense. She’ll be coming here to finish disabling the uplink controls.”

The Man turned to the tech at the uplink controls and said, “How long to align the dish manually?”

“Fifteen minutes minimum,” the tech said.

“Get moving! Mercer, buy me that fifteen minutes; I don’t care if it costs every one of the security personnel down here; slow her down.”

  

*****

On the surface, Evan Mitchell waited at the gate, watching with unconcealed satisfaction as a vehicle approached. It was a military Hummer, and when it was one hundred meters from the gate, it stopped and the Genomorph climbed out. Mitchell raised a pair of binoculars and inspected the girl; there was no mistaking that it was her. As instructed, she was unarmed, but was she alone?

“Check the Hummer,” Mitchell said, motioning to two of his men. “Bring that bimbo back here, and make sure she knows her girlfriend will get hurt if she resists.”

Mitchell watched the two mercenaries as they approached the girl. They looked inside the Hummer and then motioned for the girl to follow them, but she refused to move. A moment later one of them contacted Mitchell on the radio.

“She wants to talk to you,” the man said.

“Put her on,” Mitchell told him.

“I don’t move an inch until you release Melissa,” the girl’s voice said over the radio. “Bring her to the surface. Once she is in the Hummer and away from here, I’ll come along peacefully.”

“You mean, so she can go and hook up with your SEAL buddies?” Mitchell asked, laughing. “The ones my men are butchering at their LZ at this very moment? That ain’t how it works, bitch. You start moving right now, or I call downstairs and some of the troops will begin using her for entertainment. They’re all dying to show her what she’s been missing.”

Even though she was a football field away, Mitchell could see the defiance drain from the girl as her shoulders slumped and she handed the radio back. The three figures began moving towards the gate.

From their elevated positions, Lewis and Darrow settled the sights of their rifles on the men flanking Melissa.

“Chief, they’re moving her towards the compound,” Lewis whispered into his radio.

“Vasquez and I are setting up now,” Wright said. “Take ‘em down.”

“The LT hasn’t given the signal,” Darrow said.

“We can’t wait,” Wright said. “Don’t let them get Melissa any closer to that gate!”

“Roger that,” both the snipers responded.

As Mitchell watched, the two guards on either side of the girl suddenly pitched forward and fell to the ground. Seconds later, the twin booms of two big bore rifles echoed down from the distant ridge.

Mitchell raised his MP5 and fired, but his rounds fell short. He had expected the girl to go for a weapon and attack, but instead she had turned and run away, and was now taking cover behind the Hummer. It did not make sense; why would she run away from battle when her girlfriend was prisoner down below.

~Unless it’s not the girlfriend at all…. ~

Mitchell turned and ran for the main building, screaming into his radio to warn the lab that the Genomorph was already inside. He was rewarded with nothing but dead air. He reached the door to the building just as a propane tank near the barracks erupted in a ball of flame. The shockwave of the explosion raced across the compound, knocking several men to their feet. The fireball destroyed two of the prefabricated structures outright and set a third aflame. Mitchell swiped his key card through the reader and entered the building, the men inside shouting questions when they saw him.

“We’re under attack, morons!” he shouted back, and then pointed at two of the six guards.

“You two, secure the back door; the rest of you stay here. Don’t let them through to the elevator!”

He made his way quickly down the hall and to the elevator and slapped the call button. The LCD screen in the control panel began flashing.

Security lockdown initiated … elevator unavailable…

Mitchell keyed in his personal code, and after a few seconds, the text on the screen changed.

Security code accepted … I’m waiting for you, Mitchell…

“And I’m coming for you, bitch,” Mitchell muttered as he stepped into the elevator.

  

*****

The security force was thrown into momentary disarray, but they were well trained and recovered quickly. They moved to their prepared positions and began firing. There was no chance they could hit the snipers on the ridge a half mile away, so they concentrated their fire on the girl behind the Humvee.

“Shit!” Melissa screamed as rounds hammered into the vehicle. She did exactly as Brandi had instructed her; she curled up into a ball and made herself as small as possible behind the Hummer.

A group of four mercenaries broke from their positions and began advancing rapidly towards the vehicle. Two of them were down immediately as fifty caliber bullets from the snipers ripped into them. The other two turned to seek cover, but only made it half dozen steps before Lewis and Darrow brought them down too. The lesson was conveyed effectively; leave the girl alone.

It was a standoff; the mercenaries could not reach the snipers or the girl, but neither were they in much danger as long as they stayed behind their fortified positions. The volume of fire directed at the Hummer declined as the men within the fence waited for the SEALs to make the next move.

  

CHAPTER 59

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2005

0030 EST

Alvin Miller, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, listened to the tale Amanda Breton and Admiral Hammerstein told him, only his eyes betraying his emotions. They ranged from disbelief to rage as the plot was laid out for him. The whole beltway was in a rapidly growing uproar as word began making the rounds that something was going down, which was why the Director was still in his office at such a late hour.

“I’ve tried to initiate an investigation into this group for some time,” Miller said when they had finished. “I was blocked at every turn. Without concrete evidence, my hands were tied.”

“You have the evidence,” Hammerstein told him, indicating the files on Miller’s desk. “There will be more coming. We have people poring over the data now.”

Miller nodded, fighting off the feeling of resentment that the Bureau had been kept out of the loop in the earliest stages of the operation. The files they had shown him clearly indicated that the FBI had been heavily infiltrated, and he himself had been targeted for ‘conversion’ after the coup was initiated.

“Does this have anything to do with that incident at UCLA?” Miller asked.

“Yes, the organization was attempting to … retrieve something they lost,” Amanda said.

“By any chance, did they lose a very attractive young blonde woman?” Miller said. “She is wanted for questioning by us and the LAPD. They are still trying to ID the bodies from that mess. We have twelve unidentified corpses in full military gear, all apparently killed by this young woman in a running gun battle. We also have a dead federal agent, though it pains me to use that title for anyone involved with that organization.”

“It sounds like a clear case of self-defense to me,” Hammerstein said.

“Don’t play games with me, Admiral,” Miller warned. “We have the girl’s name, at least the name she is using, Brenda Williams. We found her car shot to hell on campus. We haven’t been able to positively establish that her identity is fictitious, but it smells like a cover. If you know who she really is and where she is, you had best tell me, or you could face charges yourself. She has a lot of questions to answer.”

The Hammer rose and leaned over the Director’s desk, his face a stony mask.

“I won’t play games with you, Director,” the Admiral said. “I know exactly who she is. I know that she is the most loyal and courageous person I have ever known. I know that not only would she give up her life for this country, she has…twice. She gave more than anyone should ever be asked to give, and all she asked for in return was a little peace. They chose not to give it to her, and they will pay the price for that mistake. If you want to throw me in the brig, go ahead, because as God is my witness, I’ll rot there before I give her up.”

“I share Michael’s sentiments, Director,” Amanda said. “And I think you will find that everyone who knows this young woman does as well.”

“So I am supposed to sit on my hands and wait for this evidence to fall into my lap?”

“As you said, for now there is nothing you can do.” Amanda told him. “These people have operated outside the law for so long, and that is how they must be dealt with.”

“When it’s over, you can pick up the pieces,” the Admiral added as he returned to his seat. “I suggest you bring a big broom.”

“All right, we’ll play it your way,” the Director said. “You know there’s nothing in any of these files so far that directly ties the head of the organization to any of this? Even if we had something, his involvement will likely be swept under the rug in the best interest of the country.”

“He may never go to trial, but rest assured he will answer for his crimes,” Admiral Hammerstein said. “She will see to that.”

They talked for several more minutes as the Director told them he would begin assembling a team of agents and secure the necessary warrants for several individuals who were implicated by the evidence they had collected. When Amanda and the Admiral left the office, Gretchen was waiting for them, pacing restlessly in the outer office.

Amanda walked over to the young woman and placed her arm around her shoulder.

“I’m sure Ryan is all right, dear,” she said.

“He must be,” Gretchen said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Please … he must be.”

  

*****

A guard rounded the corner of the loading dock and saw Ryan as he worked to bypass the lock on the door. His hand went to the grip of his weapon, and he began raising it to fire.

Matt Branch popped up from behind the crate and sent a three round burst from his M4 into the guard’s chest. The man dropped without firing, but it did not matter, the report of Branch’s burst was still echoing through the dock.

“Now would be a good time, Mr. Sanders,” Branch said.

“Almost there,” Ryan told him. “Thirty seconds tops.”

A hail of bullets tore into the loading dock, and the SEALs instantly returned fire. Ryan resisted the urge to dive for cover and entered the last few keystrokes into the computer. The door lock clicked open.

“I got it!” Ryan shouted.

He turned to face Branch just as something slammed into his right side like a hammer. Ryan lost his balance and fell to the concrete, his pulse pounding in his ears. He could feel something wet spreading along his side, and it was suddenly very hard to breathe.

“Jennings, Sanders is down at the door,” Branch called. “Franklin, Talbot, frag the room. Everyone fall back to the door.”

Seamen Franklin and Talbot moved quickly to the door. Franklin yanked it open, and Talbot tossed a M67 fragmentation grenade into the room beyond. The SEALs hugged the wall as the grenade detonated and then rushed inside. One of the guards was dead, and the other was bleeding and stunned. Talbot kicked his weapon away and quickly secured his hands with a heavy duty cable tie.

Branch grabbed Ryan’s vest by the handle sewn in at the back of the neck and dragged him through the door as the rest of the SEALs followed. Seaman Brad Kelly was the last through the door and was caught by several rounds before he got through. He dropped to the floor and Talbot immediately pulled him clear and slammed the door shut.

“Kelly’s dead, Skipper,” Talbot said.

“Dammit,” Branch swore. “All right, Denton, take your element and secure the front; we’ll hold here.”

Petty Officer Kurt Denton and four of the SEALs moved down the corridor towards the front entrance. The rest of the SEALs took positions at the windows to either side of the loading dock entrance and began engaging the enemies that were trying to make it to the dock. They switched their weapons to semiautomatic to conserve ammunition; it reduced their rate of fire, but their accuracy more than made up for it. As the battle raged, Branch moved over to where Jennings was treating Ryan’s wound.

“It’s not good, Skipper,” Jennings told him. “He’s got a punctured lung for sure. The round hit the gap between the front and back trauma plates.”

“We’ve got to move him, Greg,” Branch said. “There’s an office just up the hall that will be protected from any stray rounds.”

“Understood, Skipper,” Jennings said. “I’ll have him patched up in one minute.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant, I guess I didn’t keep low enough,” Ryan said, his vice weak.

“You did great,” Branch said. “Save your strength; we’re not out of this yet.”

  

*****

“Melissa, you read me?” Chief Wright’s voice spoke in the earpiece Melissa wore.

“Yes, Chief.”

“They’re not paying much attention to you right now,” Wright said. “I want you to move towards the rise behind you. Stay low and keep the Hummer between you and them the best you can. If they spot you and open up, run like hell. Lewis and Darrow will cover.”

“OK, Chief, I’m moving,” Melissa said.

Before she did as he told her, she reached into the back of the Hummer and grabbed an M4 carbine and a ballistic armor vest loaded with magazines. The vest was more than a bit tight over her chest; it was not designed for someone with a figure like she now had, but she managed to get it fastened.

Keeping low, as the Chief had instructed, she moved out at a quick trot. She was halfway to the rise when one of the machinegun crews spotted her and opened fire. Melissa sprinted forward as fast as she could, which was a lot faster than she could have a few days before. She reached the top of the rise and dove forward, rolling painfully down the rocky slope as bullets chewed across the crest behind her. She came to a stop at the base of a large rock and quickly took stock to make certain she was unhurt.

“I’m clear, Chief,” Melissa reported as she rose.

“All right, sweetheart, you sit tight,” Wright told her.

“Chief, I can work my way around to you,” Melissa said.

“Negative, you are done here,” Wright said. “If you get hurt, Brandi will kick my ass all over this desert.”

“All right, sitting tight,” Melissa muttered and sat down to wait for the battle to end.

It was harder than she would have ever imagined; at the university, she had functioned but had been terrified the entire time. It had only been the fact that Brandi was there with her that had allowed her to do what she did. Now it was different, and as she heard the booming echoes of the snipers’ rifles as they began firing into the compound, something screamed inside her, telling her she should be a part of it. Then with sudden clarity she knew why she felt that way — the nano-cyborgs had rewritten her DNA to match Brandi’s.

“I have the warrior genes now,” she whispered.

  

*****

Brandi had managed to make it to the stairwell and down to the fifth level of the lab without running into any of the security patrols. She was not particularly concerned about being spotted now; they were certainly aware she was on the loose by now, but she would try to avoid any unnecessary violence. She was running on her reserves already; the effort of holding Melissa’s form so long had not been nearly as taxing as in the past but it had still taken a lot out of her. She wondered if the bonding somehow made it easier for her to take her mate’s form. Whatever the reason, she had to be careful; she wanted to save her strength for Mitchell.

Level five was going to be much harder to get through. It was the most secure level of the lab, housing the GMU chamber, the training room, and the vault with the stockpiles of Forerunner artifacts, as well as numerous other labs. It was always heavily patrolled, but now she could sense through the door that it was crawling with security personnel.

~I think they want to make it hard for me to get to the control room. Silly men, I’m not even trying to get there. ~

The plan had never included Brandi stopping the transmission from the control room; her task now was simply to make it appear that she was trying to do that, to encourage them to try to send the signal as quickly as possible. When they opened the doors on top of the bunker housing the dish, they were in for a nasty surprise.

A pair of guards was approaching the door, she could hear their hearts beating and even sense the electrical impulses as their synapses fired. These boys were very tense.

“Time to make an entrance,” she said.

As she sensed they were even with the door, she launched a spinning back kick. For the first time since her transformation, she unleashed every ounce of strength as her foot impacted the door. The results surprised her; the door did not just swing open, it was knocked off its hinges and flew across the corridor, smashing the two guards against the opposite wall.

“Ooops, did I do that?” Brandi giggled as she lifted the heavy fire door off the two unconscious men.

Her effervescent demeanor vanished in an instant, and she quickly stripped the men of their weapons and ammunition, experiencing the same difficulty Melissa had as she donned a load bearing vest from one of the men.

“Note to self,” she said aloud as she struggled to buckle the vest. “See if I can get a vest custom made for a 36G bust.”

Brandi checked the weapons she had taken from the men; usually the guards carried MP5 submachine guns, but these were armed with HK G36C compact assault rifles. That told her they knew that the assault rifle rounds could penetrate her armor, probably from reviewing video of the gun battle at UCLA.

“Well, if it was easy anyone could do it,” she sighed.

The assault rifles were small, but still much heavier than the MP7s she had used, and the balance was not as good for firing one handed. Still, she knew she was strong enough to do it, and slung them across her body so they hung on either side, barrels forward and the grips within easy reach.

As she moved down the corridor, Brandi spied one of the intercom panels that were spaced throughout the lab. A smile spread across her face, not her usual bright sunburst, but one that was filled with malevolence. Maybe there was a way she could cut through the fodder and get to the real goal, at least her real goal now.

  

*****

Susan blinked her eyes rapidly when the light from the office flooded them as Barbara removed the optical programmer. She looked at her and recoiled, recognizing her as the woman who had replaced her on the project.

“It’s all right, Susan, I’m the one who has been supplying Amanda with information,” she said. “I removed the programming that was placed in you. How do you feel?”

“A little dizzy, but otherwise fine,” Susan said. “What’s happening?”

“Brandi was here a short time ago,” Barbara told her. “She is on her way to the control room now. She used my computer to delay the signal.”

“Is Melissa safe?”

“I don’t know the details, but I do know that Melissa was never here,” Barbara said. “Brandi walked in here well before the deadline, and I can only assume that she was posing as Melissa.”

“But I saw them both!” Susan said. “That couldn’t be unless … oh no….”

“What is it, Susan?”

“Brandi and Melissa bonded,” Susan said. “If Brandi was posing as Melissa, then Melissa is now her twin. They accelerated the change. She knew I would be turned, so she kept it from me.”

“It should all be over soon, and then we can fix it,” Barbara said.

Before either of them could say more, the intercom speaker on the wall blasted out a burst of static, followed after a second by Brandi’s voice.

“Attention, boys, please listen carefully,” Brandi said. To Susan, her voice sounded different; cold and lifeless.

“I don’t want any of you; all I want is Evan Mitchell. The quickest way for me to get him is for the rest of you to stay out of my way. You’ve already lost; my friends are in control on the surface, and as soon as your boss opens up the bunker to align the dish, they are going to blow it to hell.

“I don’t particularly want to kill all of you, but I don’t particularly not want to either. It’s your choice; stand aside and live, or stand in my way and die. Oh, and Mitchell, you don’t have a choice, you’re not leaving this place alive.”

“I don’t understand,” Susan said as the speaker went silent. “She talks like she’s looking forward to killing a man. Mitchell is a pig but ….”

“It’s worse than that,” Barbara said, walking over to her computer. “I saw this after Brandi left. I think she left it on screen so you could see it … so you would understand.”

Susan rose from the couch and walked over to the desk. She read the file that Brandi had left open on the machine, the Genomorph file, and she did understand.

“We have to stop her,” Susan said.

“I don’t understand, surely she has reason to want him dead,” Barbara said. “It’s not like she hasn’t killed before.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Susan countered. “Brandi has always killed out of necessity, because there was no other choice. This is different, its revenge. Worse than that, it’s murder. I won’t let her do it.”

“And just how do you intend to stop her?”

Susan had to admit she had no idea. Brandi could easily overpower either of them without even having to resort to violence. She knew she had to find a way to reach her, to give her time to get her grief and rage under control before Brandi found Mitchell and did something she would surely hate herself for.

  

*****

The Man and Mercer heard the announcement and had no doubt that the girl was telling the truth. The dish would be vulnerable for several minutes once the roof of the bunker was opened, as it elevated and swung into position. With all communications cut off, they could not tell how things were going up top.

“What should I do, sir?” the technician asked.

“Proceed,” the Man said. “She could be bluffing.”

“Yes, sir,” the tech replied. “Opening the shield doors now. It will take three minutes for the dish to acquire the satellite.”

“Sir, even if the signal gets out, we have lost control of this facility,” Mercer whispered. “I recommend we get you out of here. The girl is hunting Mitchell at the moment, but once she deals with him, she’ll turn her attention to us.”

The Man nodded, and he and Mercer quietly slipped out of the control room. All the elevators and the stairwell were locked down, but there was another way out of the lab; a secret hangar that was totally isolated from the security system and only accessible to them. Inside, a helicopter was kept fueled and ready, with a pilot standing by whenever the Man was at the lab.

They had underestimated the girl once again, the Man thought as he and Mercer entered the access tunnel for the hangar, which was a short distance from the control room. They boarded an electric cart and started down the mile-long passage, which gradually sloped up until it reached the hangar.

Yes, this was a setback, but it was not defeat. The sleepers were still out there, and they had no way of knowing who all of them were without the files in the safe house in Arlington. Once they were away from the lab, he would order those files purged, along with all the other files regarding their plan. It would take time to rebuild, but he had all the time in the world.

  

*****

“We got activity, Chief,” Enrique Vasquez said as he watched the compound. He and the Chief had crept to a position on a small ridge just under two thousand meters to the southwest of the site.

The approach had not been particularly hazardous; the mercenaries were too occupied trying to force their way into the main building while avoiding fire from Lewis and Darrow. The only way they could do that effectively was to concentrate their assault on the loading dock, which placed the building between them and the snipers. Unfortunately, the dock was not an easy target; the SEALs were well concealed behind walls that were made of two feet of steel reinforced concrete. The building had been constructed to match the blockhouses used throughout the Nevada Test Site for atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons. The trailer that had smuggled the SEALs into the perimeter was also forcing the mercenaries to approach through a narrow corridor, eliminating their numerical advantage.

With the mercenaries otherwise engaged, it would have been extremely simple for the two SEALs to reach their position, had they not been carrying with them the Javelin missile system. The launcher was now set up, and Vasquez had the cross hairs fixed on the roof of the bunker housing the satellite dish.

“Yeah, they’re opening it up,” Wright confirmed as he watched the monitor connected to the sighting system. As the steel doors swung away, the dish slowly elevated up from the structure. It was easily visible to the thermal imaging system, the steel framework radiating much more heat than the surrounding desert which had dissipated away the day’s heat. The targeting system recorded the thermal image and downloaded it into the missile’s guidance system.

“We have a lock,” Wright said. “Clear to fire.”

“Firing,” Vasquez said as he squeezed the trigger.

With a loud pop, the ejection charge propelled the missile from the launcher. It traveled several feet under the momentum of the initial charge, and then the missile’s rocket motor kicked in. With a whoosh of expanding gas, the missile streaked up to an altitude of one hundred fifty meters and then tipped over, the infrared seeker at the tip scanning the ground. It located the dish and matched it to the image stored in its memory and rocketed forward.

Designed to penetrate more than six hundred millimeters of armor, the Javelin had no problem at all with the dish. The precursor charge, which was intended to detonate the reactive armor on a target tank, blasted a hole through the surface of the dish and a half second later the primary warhead detonated at the base of the dish. A tremendous fireball billowed up from the bunker as the uplink dish was totally destroyed.

The explosion had an added, though totally unexpected benefit. The mercenaries mistook the detonation for a mortar attack. Vasquez and Wright reinforced their belief by loading a second Javelin and taking out the hangar. Having already suffered more than fifty percent casualties, the security force decided that the pay was not worth the risk and threw down their weapons.

“And once more we have fought the good fight for truth, justice and the American way,” Vasquez said with a smile.

Chief Wright grunted, looking skyward as the sound of rotor blades became audible. Soon a group of CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters came into view. They began touching down all around the compound, and Marines of the 15^th Marine Expeditionary Unit began pouring out.

“Better late than never,” Chief Wright grumbled.

  

*****

Evan Mitchell fired a burst from his MP5 into the locking mechanism on the armory door to no effect. The door was intended to withstand such an attempt to breech it and remained locked.

“Dammit,” he cursed, snatching a fragmentation grenade from his webbing. He wedged it in the door handle and pulled the pin and then ran for cover around a corner.

The grenade detonated with a tremendous blast, the sound amplified by the confines of the corridor. When Mitchell approached the door again, he saw with satisfaction that the lock had been shattered.

Inside the armory, he discarded the MP5; it was next to useless against the girl and would just give her an excuse to shoot him. He knew what would slow her down though. He grabbed a pair of taser pistols and a pair of stun batons. The tasers were standard issue, but the batons had been modified. They already delivered a charge that, at seven-hundred-fifty-thousand volts, was fifteen times greater than the pistols, and the modifications had altered their energy discharge to a frequency that should play hell with the Genomorph’s nervous system. Mitchell secured the weapons, along with a pair of collapsible steel batons, to his belt and left the armory.

“Just the man I was looking for.”

Mitchell whirled at the sound of the voice just in time to catch a powerful kick to the abdomen that lifted him off his feet and propelled him down the corridor. He landed hard, but despite having the wind knocked out of him, he managed to grab the taser at his right hip and swing it online. The darts shot out with a hissing pop of compressed air as he pulled the trigger, but Brandi effortlessly dodged them.

“Not so easy when my back isn’t turned, is it?”

Mitchell grabbed the second taser, but before he could bring it on target, Brandi kicked it from his hand. The darts discharged and struck the ceiling overhead.

Mitchell scrambled back, trying to get some distance between himself and Brandi, but she was too fast. She grabbed him by the front of his tactical vest and effortlessly lifted him from the floor, throwing him down the corridor. He smacked into the wall hard enough to make stars dance before his eyes, but he managed to keep his feet.

As Mitchell struggled to clear his head, Brandi un-slung the two G36s and dropped them to the floor. She wanted to kill him with her bare hands, to feel his bones shatter as she extracted her vengeance.

Mitchell drew the stun batons from his belt as Brandi stalked forward and triggered them so she could see the electricity arc between the electrodes. Brandi hesitated, and a smile spread across Mitchell’s face. He thrust forward with the left baton, and as Brandi dodged aside and parried with her right arm, he triggered the charge. The device was equipped with electrodes along the shaft to deliver a shock in case an opponent attempted to grab the baton. The shock was far weaker than that delivered at the tip, and the contact was brief, but Brandi still cried out and felt her right side go numb for an instant. Brandi stumbled away clumsily and barely managed to avoid Mitchell’s follow up with the right baton.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Mitchell said.

Brandi centered herself mentally, drawing on her energy reserves to shake off the stun effect. She felt her coordination return, but knew she could not do it many more times; her reserves were dangerously taxed from holding Melissa’s form for so long. She knew she needed to finish him quickly, but that fact warred with her desire to make him suffer before she killed him.

Mitchell attacked again and was surprised as Brandi spun about, knocking both the stun batons from his hands with a spinning kick. He leapt back and drew the collapsible batons, snapping them to full extension and delivering two hard blows across Brandi’s back. She pitched forward and dove, rolling and spinning to her feet as Mitchell advanced.

Ignoring the batons, Brandi took two more blows to her left side as her hands flashed out, raking across Mitchell’s chest. There was a tearing sound, and he felt a burning pain and recoiled. As he looked down, he saw four crisscrossing rents in his vest and felt warm blood spreading down his chest. He looked at Brandi, and his eyes widened as he saw her standing there, her nails extended to their full three inches and glistening with blood.

“What the hell are you?” he said.

“The Forerunners called it the Destroyer, Mitchell, and that’s what I’m going to do,” Brandi said, her voice low and menacing. “I’m going to rip you into little pieces for what you did to my parents.”

“Why are you so pissed at me?” Mitchell asked, the spring steel batons weaving an intricate pattern in the air before him. “I was just doing what I was told. The Man and Mercer were part of it too.”

“They’ll get theirs,” Brandi said. “But you … I know your record; De oppresso liber - To liberate the oppressed - do you remember that?”

Mitchell stared at her. It had been years since he had borne that motto as a member of the 5^th Special Forces.

“‘I, Carl Evan Mitchell, do solemnly swear,” Brandi recited, “that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.’ - Do you remember those words?

“You broke the code, Mitchell; you chose to follow men who were against everything you swore to protect. You murdered my parents for them, and now you are going to die.”

There was real fear in Mitchell’s eyes now as Brandi’s words sunk in. He had counted on her sense of honor to protect him, but that very honor now demanded that she kill him. When he’d discarded his gun, he had done so thinking she would not attack with lethal force, but now he wished he had kept the weapon. He knew his only chance was to get inside her head.

“I always knew there was a real killer in you,” Mitchell said.

“You’ll find out just how real soon enough,” Brandi said.

“I bet your girlfriend would be proud of you.”

Brandi stopped as though she had been struck, and an instant later she was, as Mitchell caught her in the stomach with a powerful kick that doubled her over. Clasping his hands together, he brought his fists down on the back of her head and drove her to the floor and then spun away.

With a guttural cry of rage, Brandi picked herself up from the floor and spun about. She saw too late that Mitchell had retrieved one of the stun batons as he thrust it into her stomach and pressed the trigger.

  

*****

Melissa was escorted to the compound by a pair of Marines. She was still getting used to the idea that she was a little perturbed at having been left out of the action. With Brandi’s warrior genes a part of her, she had felt a powerful urge to do something during the battle. Still, she knew that, warrior genes or not, she did not have the training necessary.

As they neared the gate, they paused to allow two Marines and a corpsman past, carrying an unconscious Ryan on a litter. The corpsman looked up and smiled at Melissa.

“He’ll be fine, Miss,” he said. “We’re evacing him to a trauma center in Vegas.”

Melissa smiled, relieved that Ryan would be all right. As she and her escorts continued towards the main building, her smile broadened as she reflected on how cute the corpsman was, not to mention her two escorts. Maybe….

~ Whoa girl, get a grip, a little too much Brandi coming through. ~

Melissa found Matt by the freight elevator, having a bullet graze to his arm treated by another Marine corpsman. Matt looked up at her, and Melissa could tell that he was angry, and she had a pretty good idea why.

“You want to explain that to me?” he asked, pointing to the display next to the controls for the elevator. Melissa walked over and read the words on the screen.

Sorry, but I need a little privacy; I’ll let you down when I’m finished….

“I can’t tell you exactly,” Melissa said. “I felt something earlier; she’s in pain, terrible awful pain.”

“If she’s hurt, why won’t she let us help?”

“Not physical pain,” Melissa said. “She learned something, and now all she wants is one thing. She wants to kill whatever caused that pain.”

“You mean she’s out of control?” Matt asked.

“No, I mean she’s hurting,” Melissa snapped. “It feels just like it did when I was told my parents had been killed, but there’s a rage connected to the grief. I think she….”

Whatever Melissa thought was cut off as her mind was suddenly awash in sensation. The empathic link between her and Brandi seemed to crystallize into perfect clarity, and she could see as though she were looking through Brandi’s eyes. She saw the baton in Mitchell’s hand, felt the charge of current surge into Brandi’s body and felt her lover reach down for the strength to resist it, only to find there was nothing left, at least nothing close to what she needed to overcome the current surging through her nervous system.

~ She’s exhausted, but I’m not. ~

Not knowing how to do it, only knowing it could be done, Melissa concentrated, focusing the energy within her into the link. For an instant, it was as though she had traded places with Brandi as the current from the baton flowed back through the link and into her. Melissa screamed as her body went rigid and then collapsed to the floor.

  

*****

Mitchell’s triumphant smile faded as Brandi slapped the baton aside with her left hand and thrust her right forward, hand open, into his chest. The blow was like a powerful piston, knocking Mitchell back against the wall. The baton flew from his hand, and he dropped to the floor — right next to the weapons Brandi had dropped earlier. He grabbed one of the G36Cs and stabbed it towards Brandi, snapping the trigger back.

Brandi dove away from the line of fire, but Mitchell held the trigger down and tracked towards her. There was only one option, so she sprang to her feet and ran. She made it around a corner and flattened herself against the wall, waiting for Mitchell to pursue. Instead, she saw a small round object hit the wall opposite her and bounce to the floor at her feet.

Brandi’s mind instantly shifted into high gear; the grenade had a five second fuse, and she calculated the flight time from Mitchell’s position to be two seconds. It had a lethal radius of five meters and a casualty radius of fifteen. She could sprint at slightly better than the world record pace for the mile, about twenty-four feet per second. Figuring in her acceleration, she knew she could easily cover the fifteen meters in less than three seconds.

The calculations took less than a hundredth of a second, and Brandi was in motion. She reached the edge of the casualty radius and dove forward, tucking herself into a tight ball as the grenade detonated. Even though the effective radius was fifteen meters, the grenade could throw shrapnel over two-hundred meters, and she felt several impacts against her armor, but none had the necessary velocity to penetrate. Leaping to her feet, she reversed her direction and ran back to the corner. She already knew before she rounded it that Mitchell was not there. She reached out with her senses, but her range seemed to be limited. Melissa had somehow given her a boost of power, but she was still far from full strength, and it was apparently affecting her enhanced senses.

“Go ahead and run,” she whispered. “You’ll only die tired.”

  

*****

“There has to be something we can do!” Susan said, her voice heavy with frustration.

“I suspect Brandi intended to keep you locked in here,” Barbara told her.

The two scientists turned as someone began pounding on the door. Even had they wanted to open it, there was nothing they could do, so they stepped back behind the desk, and Barbara lifted her pistol. The pounding stopped and was quickly followed by gunshots as bullets tore through the locking mechanism. The door crashed open, and Evan Mitchell stormed into the office.

Mitchell looked like hell, his chest torn and bleeding and his face bruised and swollen. It did not take much for the two women to figure out that Brandi had found him, but he had somehow managed to escape.

“She’s still loose, and I need your help to stop her,” Mitchell said. Susan drew in a breath to speak, but was stopped as Barbara put a hand on her arm.

“What do you expect us to do?” Barbara asked. “She’s apparently managed to cow your entire security force into submission.”

“I’ll deal with them later, fucking cowards,” Mitchell said. “Right now, I need an edge. I need you to use that machine on me.”

“You know the GMU is damaged and incapable of creating a Genomorph,” Barbara said. “Even if it were, you don’t fit the profile.”

“I don’t want to be a chick,” Mitchell growled. “You can use it to boost me though, right? Make me stronger and faster than I am now. I almost had her; I just need a boost to give her a surprise. She’s wearing down.”

“Mr. Mitchell, that would require a level of programming that may be beyond us,” Susan said. “The basic cycle will heal your wounds and optimize your body, but that is far from what you want.”

“We have actually learned a lot more about the machine since you left us, Susan,” Barbara said. “I did manage to put together a program to enhance a person physically.”

Susan looked at Barbara, wondering what she was up to. Even if they made the modifications Mitchell wanted, the machine would put him to sleep for several hours so his body could adjust.

“I have been out of the loop for a while,” Susan said.

“The procedure could be dangerous, Mitchell,” Barbara said. “It hasn’t been tested yet.”

“If you don’t do something, she’s going to kill me!” Mitchell shouted.

“Very well, shall we go?” Barbara said. “Fortunately, the GMU lab has an independent security system; I doubt she locked it out as she seemed to be rather anxious to find you.”

As the three entered the corridor, Susan turned to Mitchell.

“Which way did you come?” she asked. Mitchell pointed left, the shortest route to the stairwell from the office.

“She’ll be close behind you,” Susan said. “If we take the long way back to the stairs, we should be able to stay at the edge of her detection range and get around her.”

Mitchell nodded, thinking it was a good thing that Susan was on their side now. Her knowledge of the girl’s capabilities would be invaluable.

“How did you get past the lock out on the stairwell?” Barbara asked as they moved.

“The same way I got into your office,” Mitchell replied. “The locks will stand up to pistol rounds, but a rifle can punch through them. I blasted the lock on every landing so she won’t be sure where I went.”

They reached the stairwell and made it down to level five without encountering Brandi, and Susan breathed a mental sigh of relief. Trying to outmaneuver her was a daunting task, and Susan had relied on the fact that she was running on pure rage and might not be thinking clearly. Whatever the reason, it had worked, and a few minutes later they reached the GMU chamber. Barbara placed her eye before the retinal scanner, and the door opened with a hiss.

“Take your clothes off and get on the table,” Barbara said as she and Susan moved towards the control room.

“I thought that was unnecessary,” Mitchell said.

“Technically, it is,” Barbara told him. “However, the kind of modification you want will result in significantly increased muscle mass. Your clothes will likely be shredded.”

It was obvious that the idea of having muscles big enough to burst from his clothing appealed to Mitchell as he began rapidly undressing. By the time Barbara had the GMU started, he was naked and lying on the table inside the crystal chamber. A few seconds later, he slipped into a near coma as the machine relaxed him completely.

“What are you planning?” Susan asked.

“The only way to stop Brandi from killing him is to remove the target,” Barbara said. “I think Mr. Mitchell needs a fresh start and a new perspective on life.”

Barbara began entering the parameters for the transformation sequence into the control panel while Susan watched.

“This is practically the same thing as killing him,” Susan said when she saw the extent of the changes Barbara was programming in. Barbara had activated a program that Susan had not even been aware of, and it was allowing her to create a detailed transformation matrix.

“Some might see it that way,” Barbara said. “He certainly has earned it for what he did. This way, Evan Mitchell may cease to exist, but he will have an opportunity to do things over and perhaps not become such a vile person.”

Barbara finished programming the sequence, and her hand moved towards the activation pad.

“No, let me,” Susan said. “Brandi is not going to like this; I want her anger directed at me if it is going to be at anyone.”

Barbara nodded, and Susan closed her eyes and touched the glowing pad.

  

CHAPTER 60

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2005

0200 EST

Karen and the rest of CTAG had spent the past eighteen hours scouring through the thousands of files that had been recovered from the house. They had amassed a substantial amount of evidence that showed beyond any shadow of a doubt that the organization had been planning to subvert the government of the United States since the early seventies. Every action they had taken was directed at securing Forerunner technology that would help them.

Karen had instructed the analysts to bring any file that mentioned the word Genomorph to her immediately. As she studied the files, she learned at last what the organization’s plan for her friend had been. They had realized from the start that turning the government into puppets would not be sufficient; the United States, despite its many flaws, was still a nation of people who loved liberty above all else, and no matter how completely they infiltrated the military, government and press, eventually there would be revolution. But an army of Genomorphs could put down any revolt. They had intended that Brandi be the mother of that army.

Though Karen had only a very rudimentary understanding of what had been done to Brandi, even she could see that their plan was based on a very large assumption: that any children Brandi bore would carry the warrior genes and any of the Forerunner genes that were also necessary for the transformation. Their hope was to eventually locate another candidate like Brandon, a male possessing the necessary genes, providing them with a breeding pair and eventually a second candidate for transformation.

There was much more information, even more disturbing, discussing methods of insuring multiple births to increase ‘production’. There had never been any real intention to use Brandi as an assassin or other type of operative; she was far too valuable as a breeder. The very thought made Karen feel sick.

The entire plan had one glaring fatal flaw; it rested on them being able to control, or at the very least contain, Brandi, something they had been unable to do. Her warrior genes had prevented them from controlling her, and the abilities they had given her provided her the means of escaping their clutches.

“Thank God for that,” Karen whispered, shuddering as she realized the future that could have awaited the girl she loved like a sister.

“Karen?”

Mira’s voice startled her, and Karen practically jumped out of her chair. Mira tried to restrain herself but burst into giggles anyway.

“Sorry, that was just so funny,” she said when she was back in control. “I have something to show you.”

“I was really involved, I guess,” Karen said as she rose.

“I haven’t seen someone jump like that since I caught my brother cruising porn sites on my computer,” Mira said.

“Ugh! I have developed a special loathing for porn sites,” Karen told her. When Mira gave her a quizzical look, she added, “Let’s just say I have a very good friend whose life was practically shaped by them.”

“That sounds like an extreme case of porn addiction,” Mira said.

“Not exactly, and it wasn’t her choice,” Karen said, earning her another look. “Maybe one day I can tell you all about her, or better yet introduce the two of you.”

They left the Pit and went to the server room. Mira led Karen to her station and gestured to the screen.

“We broke a major portion of the encryption,” she said. On the screen was a document consisting of a seemingly endless list of names and personal data.

“What is it?”

“I think it’s a record of every sleeper they programmed,” Mira said.

Karen stared at the screen as the list of names scrolled down. There had to be thousands of them, ranging from the highest levels of government in Washington down to the state and even municipal level. There were members of the armed forces and the media, as well as business and civic leaders. In many, the programming had been planted years ago, when they were just beginning their careers. Over time, others who were part of the plot because of their own greed for power had made sure these people were given the necessary opportunities and promotions to place them in useful positions.

The list included current addresses and occupations, as well as other personal data such as marriages and divorces. It detailed when and where the programming was introduced and to what level. Some were programmed simply to follow the party line once activated, others to take a more active role in the new regime. Many were just random, ordinary people who were programmed to watch and inform.

“My God, they were building their own perfect fascist state,” Karen said.

  

*****

Brandi was getting annoyed, which only added to her cold rage. So far, every security guard she had encountered had immediately dropped his weapons and gone to the cafeteria when she told him to. But despite the lack of resistance, she had been unable to find Mitchell. She had caught his scent a few times and finally tracked him to what had been Susan’s office on the first level, but he was gone by then, and so were Susan and Barbara. She was unsure why he had come there, unless he had become suspicious of them and/or had decided Susan, even in her programmed state, would make a useable hostage.

She left the office and searched the rest of the first floor, but could not detect her target, so she went back to the stairwell. He had to still be in the lab, so he had somehow gotten past her and gone back down. As she reached the second level, she felt it — power emanating from below. She immediately knew what it was; the GMU had been activated, and she also knew why Mitchell had come to the office. She virtually flew down the stairwell, leaping over the railing at the last landing and dropping twenty feet to the bottom floor.

As she reached the door to the GMU chamber, she could feel the power dropping as the GMU cycled down. Whatever had been done was over, and she lost precious seconds bypassing the security system on the door. She rushed into the chamber, determined to finish Mitchell before he could utilize whatever alterations he had forced them to make.

She was not at all prepared for what she saw; on the table in the crystal chamber was a pretty blonde-haired girl of perhaps fifteen. She was sleeping peacefully as her body continued to adjust to the radical changes made to it.

“What have you done?” she screamed at the two figures behind the glass of the control room window. Susan appeared at the door, her face drawn and pained.

“What I had to do, Brandi,” she said, her voice low. “I couldn’t let you kill him out of hate.”

“You think I won’t kill him just because you made him a girl?” Brandi hissed, moving towards the chamber. Susan moved quickly and blocked her path.

“Evan Mitchell is gone,” she said. “That girl has no memory of him at all. She will awake with the ability to function, to speak, read and write and such, but she won’t have any memory of her past.”

“Then change him back,” Brandi said. She was shaking now, obviously struggling to maintain control, but of what Susan could not be sure.

“You know that can’t be done,” Susan said.

“He killed my parents,” Brandi cried. “I don’t understand how you can protect him … how you can do this to me?”

“I’m not protecting him; I’m protecting you,” Susan said. “You’re being driven by grief and rage; emotions you’ve never truly experienced as a female or a Genomorph. You are capable of tremendous destruction in your present state, but what you are very close to destroying is yourself. I won’t allow that … I won’t let you become the killer they tried to create.”

“I am a killer!” Brandi screamed. “My whole adult life has been about killing! I killed a dozen men just last week.”

“And I killed one. Does that make me a killer?”

Brandi turned at the sound of her own voice, saw her own image. On her own face, she saw love, and yet reflected in her own eyes, she saw a mask of hatred. It was like looking into a mirror that revealed an ugly, black abyss where her soul should be. Then Melissa smiled, a bright sunburst smile filled with love and Brandi dropped to her knees and began sobbing. Melissa walked over and knelt before her, reaching out to touch her face. Brandi pulled away and buried her face in her hands.

“Look at me, love,” Melissa said, pulling Brandi’s hands away.

“No, please,” Brandi begged. “I don’t want you to see me … not like this.”

“Love, I see you with my eyes closed,” Melissa said. “I see you with my heart and my soul; I feel you with every breath I take, and I will never, ever stop loving you, no matter what.

“Whenever you have taken a life, it’s always been to protect and defend. You are not a killer; you’re a warrior. You’re also only human, no matter what that machine did to you. You’ve told me many times that your emotions have been the hardest thing to get used to, and for the first time you felt real pain as a woman.”

“I wanted to kill him so bad,” Brandi whispered.

“No, sweetie, you wanted to hurt him,” Melissa said. “If you had only wanted him dead, you would have killed him in an instant.

“I know how you feel, love. I never told you the whole story of how my parents died. They were killed by a drunk driver; worse, he had been arrested for DUI before. When he walked out of the courtroom with a slap on the wrist again … I hated him. I wanted him dead … I wanted him to feel the pain that he’d inflicted on me. I thought of all the horrible things I would do to him if I had the chance.”

“Does it ever go away?” Brandi asked.

Melissa smiled. “I asked you that once, remember? Just as you told me, the pain fades with time, but it’s always a part of you. But you can let go of the anger and the hate; you have to.”

“I’ll try,” Brandi said.

“I know you will,” Melissa told her. “Now, you need to rest, love, you’re exhausted.”

Brandi sniffed and nodded her head. “I am tired. You look pretty wiped out yourself.”

“I could do with a little nap,” Melissa said.

Brandi rose to her feet and helped up Melissa, who seemed to be very unsteady. Brandi reached out and touched her cheek, and a look of concern clouded her face.

“Melissa, you’re freezing,” she said, turning to Susan. “Why is she so cold?”

Susan touched Melissa’s face and then checked her pulse. It was weak and thready, and she was obviously struggling to maintain consciousness.

“I don’t feel too good,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” Susan said. “Melissa, were you injured in the fighting?”

“She did something earlier,” Brandi said. “When I was fighting Mitchell, I was very weak, and he hit me with one of those damn cattle prods. It felt like Melissa fed me energy somehow.”

Melissa sagged forward, and Brandi scooped her into her arms. Her breathing became very shallow, and her skin took on a pale, pallid appearance.

“Mom, do something, please!”

“We have to get her into the chamber,” Susan said. Barbara nodded her head and moved back towards the control room.

Brandi carried the unconscious Melissa into the crystal chamber, and as she supported her with one arm, she scooped the still sleeping girl from the table with the other and then settled Melissa in her place. She lifted the girl who had once been Evan Mitchell and carried her out of the chamber, noticing the concerned look on Susan’s face.

“It’s all right, I won’t hurt her,” Brandi said as she carried the girl towards the control room. “What’s wrong with Melissa?”

“I can’t be sure until we run a scan,” Susan said. “I suspect she drained herself beyond a safe level when she helped you. Her body is now powered by the same energy as yours, but she doesn’t have the reserves you do.”

Brandi set the sleeping girl on the floor in the corner of the control room. As she turned around, she saw Matt Branch standing in the doorway.

“Matt, could you find a blanket or something for her?” Brandi said, gesturing towards the girl. Branch was obviously confused, but he nodded his head. Brandi was so concerned for Melissa that she did not even wonder how the SEALs had gotten down to the lab.

Matt nodded and left the lab. Brandi watched as Barbara deftly manipulated the control board and felt the familiar hum as the machine started once more. The scanning beam passed over Melissa’s unmoving form, and Susan and Barbara studied the readouts. When Susan turned to face her, Brandi knew it was bad.

“What do we have do?” she asked, not waiting for Susan to speak.

“Melissa needs energy; her reserves have dropped so low that her body can’t sustain itself, and they are not replenishing fast enough,” Susan said. “Both of your bodies are powered by the energy from the machine, the energy used to transform you. When you expend energy, you replenish it by taking in food and to a lesser extent over time. When you enter Zen sleep, you replenish it even faster.

“Melissa was never altered by the GMU; she’s not complete. When she fed power to you, she exhausted her nano-cyborgs, and because she has no built-in reserve they are shutting down.”

“But she’s here now,” Brandi said. “You can complete the bonding.”

“The components on the GMU that created you are damaged,” Susan said. “It needs those to fix this.”

“We’ve been trying since you escaped to repair the Genomorph Module,” Barbara said. “The truth is, we’re not even sure which part of the machine it is.”

“Are you telling me Melissa is going to die?”

Susan’s eyes were brimming with tears as she said, “Brandi, I don’t know what to do … she’s fading, and we can’t stop it. If we get her to the infirmary, we can try to feed her intravenously, but I don’t think it will be enough.”

Brandi did not speak; instead, she walked over to the console and placed her hands on it. The link formed almost instantly, not just with the GMU but with the entire network of Forerunner computers. In a microsecond, her mind was opened to the entire database, only a tiny fraction of which had been translated and studied. It was far more data than even she could absorb, and had anyone else attempted it, they would surely have died or at the very least suffered catastrophic brain damage. Brandi screamed as she felt a pain like her head was about to explode, but she did not remove her hands.

“Brandi, what are you doing?” Susan asked, stepping over to try to pull her back from the panel.

Brandi shrugged Susan’s hands off and said, “Melissa is not going to die!”

Brandi was not anyone else; she was a Genomorph, and as soon as the connection was established, the computer recognized her as such. The pain in her head lessened, and every display screen in the control room lit up and began flashing text in English.

Genomorph Alpha detected … Genomorph override authority recognized … initiating self-repair of Genomorph module….

In the chamber outside, the machine’s hum began rising in volume. The conduits carrying the purple plasma began pulsating, and lights flashed across various components of the GMU. A few seconds later, the displays flashed a new message.

Initiating repair sequence for Genomorph bond mate … Codename:   Melissa ….

Susan and Barbara watched in awe as Melissa’s energy readings began climbing. Energy flooded the chamber and saturated Melissa’s body.

Repair complete … downloading DNA profile for subject Melissa … initiating transformation sequence ….

Melissa’s body began to change, her hair darkening and her figure returning to what it had been before the bonding. It only took a few minutes, far less time than it had taken to transform Brandon, but Melissa was already female, so the transformation was basically cosmetic. Once her form was restored, a new message appeared.

Transformation complete … physical appearance of subject Melissa restored … unable to fully restore subject due to insufficient data … DNA not related to physical appearance remains unchanged … behavioral modifications to brain structure have been corrected according to supplied parameters ….

The hum of the machine lowered slightly and Brandi removed her hands from the console. She staggered back and nearly fell, but Susan caught her and supported her until she regained her equilibrium.

“Whoa, that took a lot out of me,” Brandi said. “I have to go into the chamber with Melissa to finish the process. Just press the flashing pad when I’m on the table. When it’s done, we’ll both be out for a while.”

“Brandi, are you sure about this?” Susan asked. “We’ll still know so little about this bonding.”

Brandi nodded. “I’m very sure. I know everything about it now. I’ll explain everything later, but don’t worry; we’ll be fine.”

Brandi left the control room and walked over to the crystal chamber. Once inside, she slipped onto the table next to Melissa and clasped her hand as she lay back. Susan pressed the flashing touch pad, and the machine began humming loudly once more. Brandi closed her eyes, her mouth forming into a smile as she slipped into sleep. The process continued for about fifteen minutes, and as the machine began powering down, the display flashed a final message.

Genomorph bonding complete … Final data matrix downloaded into Genomorph Alpha … Codename: Brandi … Genomorph Protocol fulfilled … Genomorph Module will now be permanently deactivated ….

“What?” Susan exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

As if the machine heard her, a new message appeared.

This unit has fulfilled its programmed function, the creation of Genomorph Alpha … Codename: Brandi ... continued functioning of the Genomorph Module represents a danger to human development … Genetic Modification Unit function will not be impaired ….

In the GMU chamber, there were a series of bright purple flashes, and several components simply vanished. The hum of the unit faded to nothing as it powered down fully, leaving the two young women sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms.

  

CHAPTER 61

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2005

1130 PST

Brandi opened her eyes to familiar surroundings and sat upright, confusion evident on her face for an instant. She was in a bed, a very familiar bed, and as she turned her head to the left, she saw Melissa smiling at her from an identical one a short distance away.

“Why do I keep getting stuck in this room?” Brandi sighed. She found the control to raise the bed into a reclining position, and then smiled at Melissa. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Like me,” Melissa said, adjusting her own bed. “It was very interesting and educational being you, sweetie, but I’m glad to be back to normal.”

“Well, that’s not exactly…” Brandi started to say but stopped as the door opened and Susan entered.

“It’s good to see you two awake,” she said. “I was worried.”

“I told you we’d be fine,” Brandi said as Susan gave her a hug.

“It’s a mother’s prerogative to worry,” Susan told her, and then moved over to Melissa and hugged her too.

“So, did we save the world?” Brandi asked.

Susan smiled. “Quite likely. The FBI has made dozens of arrests and will make more over the next few days. It’s all being handled very discreetly; fortunately, there was enough evidence in the files your friend Karen uncovered to charge most of the major conspirators with enough to put them away for a long time.”

“Most?” Brandi asked, suspecting what the answer would be.

“The Man, as he is called, has been taken into custody,” Susan said. “However, there is nothing to tie him directly to anything illegal, and there is concern that he could divulge information that would prove embarrassing. Amanda suspects they are going to cut a deal. Also, Reginald Mercer managed to slip away before he could be arrested.”

“That won’t do at all,” Brandi said.

“Brandi, you’re not planning….”

“Mom, you have no idea how dangerous he really is,” Brandi said. “He won’t stop unless someone stops him. He’ll regroup and try again, because he wants power.”

“It took him decades to bring his plot to fruition,” Susan said. “He’s not a young man, sweetheart; I doubt he will be around long enough to try again.”

“That’s just it, he’s not a young man; he’s much older than anyone thinks,” Brandi said. “Mom, he’s like me … I mean, like Brandon. A significant portion of his DNA is Forerunner. They had a natural life span of hundreds of years.”

“How do you know this, love?” Melissa asked.

“The Forerunner computer told me,” Brandi said. “It had scan data on him. He’s almost a hundred years old, but he appears to be in his fifties. Being a hybrid of human and Forerunner will reduce his lifespan, but he could easily live another hundred years.”

“I suppose he knows this,” Susan said. “If he had himself scanned, he would have surely seen the data.”

“He knows, but he never had himself scanned,” Brandi said. “The GMU can scan in a passive mode, and it scans everyone that comes close to it and stores their data. No, he has always known; how, I’m not sure, but his actions show that he knows. That’s why he is so dangerous; I have to stop him.”

Susan looked at Brandi long and hard, trying to read what she was feeling. Brandi returned her gaze, and in her eyes, there was still a trace of the rage that she felt over the murder of her parents.

“Yes, I’m still angry,” Brandi told her. “I’ll probably be angry for a long time. But this isn’t about revenge; it’s about what has to be done.”

“At least wait until Admiral Hammerstein arrives,” Susan said. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”

“I promise,” Brandi said. “I’m not quite ready to take on the world again yet.”

“I suppose you’re both hungry,” Susan grinned.

“Definitely!” the two girls replied in unison, which started them giggling.

“I’d like to see the gang too; I really owe Matt an apology,” Brandi said. “I’m amazed Ryan was able to get around my lockout.”

As soon as she mentioned Ryan’s name, she felt the change in Susan and more so in Melissa. She looked from one to another, fear in her eyes.

“He’s going to be all right,” Susan said. “He was badly wounded in the battle, but he’s in a hospital now and resting comfortably. Amanda is flying Gretchen out to see him.”

Brandi sighed with relief and sank back into her pillow. She knew there was more.

“Tell me the rest.”

“Several of the SEALs were wounded, all minor,” Susan said. “Seaman Kelly was killed.”

Brandi nodded and said, “He was a good man. He just got married a year ago, and they were talking about having a baby.”

“Brandi…” Susan began.

“I know,” Brandi said, the tears starting. “It’s all right to cry.”

Melissa got out of her bed and came over to hold Brandi as she cried. It was not the heart-rending sobs and tears of anguish she had shed for her parents, but a good, cleansing cry; a tribute to a fallen warrior that she had never been able to offer before. When she was done, she turned to Susan as she dried her eyes.

“When I was with the guys before the mission, I sensed something,” she said. “It was in all of them, a feeling … I don’t know how to describe it … like we were related. Do you think I can sense the warrior genes in others?”

“It’s possible,” Susan said. “You can detect things well beyond human senses. We can’t even begin to understand many of your abilities.”

“It was strongest in Matt,” she said. “The others, I don’t get the feeling they could be Genomorphs, but I think Matt has the Mother gene and some Forerunner DNA.”

“Well, he has no need to worry,” Susan said. “The GMU can no longer create Genomorphs. The components necessary vanished after your bonding was completed.”

Brandi looked away for a moment and was silent. When she turned back, she bit her lip nervously.

“That’s not entirely true,” she said. “I can restore the machine anytime. I had it display that message because I believe it’s true; we aren’t ready for that kind of power. I think what happened to me is ample proof of that.”

“You did the right thing,” Susan said. “The GMU alone is powerful enough to be terribly abused. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“I thought about that,” Brandi said. “But the GMU could do so much good if we can figure it out. I did make a slight alteration to it as well, though; it can’t be used to alter someone’s gender unless I enable that function and you agree. In fact, for now it can only diagnose and treat disease and injury.”

“Learning to use that properly will occupy us for years,” Susan said. “I truly wish we could go public with it, but there is only the one machine.”

“You’d be swamped with people demanding access,” Melissa said. “That would lead to a whole new level of abuse; who gets to choose?”

“Exactly,” Susan said. “Now, you two must be starving. The cafeteria is open, so why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll get you fed.”

Melissa rose and began gathering up her clothes, but Brandi showed no inclination to get up.

“Now, I have some confusion that needs to be cleared up,” she said as she continued to lounge in bed. “If Ryan was hurt, how did you guys get down here?”

“I unlocked the elevator,” Melissa said. “I had the same nano-cyborgs as you at the time, so I just touched the panel and thought about unlocking it. It wasn’t the same way you have described it to me; I didn’t actually link with the security system, but I was able to get the message across.”

“Now, are you going to get dressed?”

Brandi giggled and hopped out of the bed, her armor morphing about her as she removed the gown she wore. After the armor formed, it morphed into the appearance of jeans, t-shirt and sneakers.

“That is just not fair,” Melissa said as she finished dressing the normal way.

*****

A short distance from Brandi’s room, Barbara Currant entered the room where the girl who had once been Evan Mitchell still slept. They were keeping her that way intentionally, using a Forerunner device that kept her in a comatose state without the use of drugs. It was necessary until they decided what would become of her.

The magnitude of what she and Susan had done had begun to sink in. The girl had no name and no past. When she was finally awakened, she would have all the knowledge a girl her age should have; she was extremely intelligent, and once she began living her life would do well, but she would need someone to watch her and provide a suitable role model. It was too risky to simply have her placed with a family; because she had been altered by the machine, she had a superior body and would never get sick. If she was injured, she would heal much more rapidly than a normal human.

It was also vital that she be provided with a stable and healthy environment, so that she would not take the path Mitchell had. Nothing had been changed to make her a ‘good girl’. She would face the same choices as any other human being.

Barbara felt a very deep responsibility for the girl; it had, after all, been her idea to transform her. Though she did not know it, as she looked at the sleeping girl, she felt much the same feeling that Susan had when she first looked at Brandi.

Satisfied the girl was all right, she returned to her office and sat down at her desk. She turned her computer on and called up Mitchell’s file. It listed a great deal of information, from his service record in the army to various tasks he had carried out for the organization. Brandon’s parents were not the only people he had ‘eliminated’. The file even listed his full name as Carl Evan Mitchell.

Barbara shook her head sadly and secured the file so that no one could access it. She was tempted to delete it entirely, but she did not. One day, it might be needed, though she hoped not.

After closing the file, she leaned back in her chair, thoughts racing through her mind. She had no children of her own; she had never really considered it. But looking at that pretty girl….

“I think I’ll name her Carla,” she said. Barbara was certain she could get approval to take the girl in. Some kind of story would have to be constructed to explain her missing memories, and their relationship would no doubt be awkward at first, but she would feel better if the girl was close to her.

A knock at the door broke her from her reverie, and she said, “Come in.”

Martina Todd opened the door and entered the office, taking a seat before Barbara’s desk.

“How are you feeling?” Barbara asked.

“Better now that you got all that crap outta my head,” the young woman said. Fortunately, they had been able to remove most of the behavioral programming that had been implanted in her. “It does make it harder in some ways; without it, I remember more of who I was.”

“Tina, if I could have stopped him, I would ….” Barbara began.

“Dr. Currant, I remember how hard you tried,” Tina said. “While I was lying there, you fought with Mercer until he threatened to do it himself.”

“He had no clue how to operate the machine,” Barbara said. “I couldn’t let him do it; there’s no telling what kind of mess he would have made. I had my cover to protect too; if you hadn’t behaved as he wanted….”

“Can I be changed back?”

“The process of altering a person’s gender requires an application of a great deal of energy from the machine,” Barbara explained. “Your body is saturated with that energy, and it takes a long time for it to dissipate. The same applies to your regression in age. According to the scan data, it will be at least ten years before we could safely transform you back into a male.”

“And even then I wouldn’t be exactly who I was before, right?”

Barbara nodded, “Mercer erased your original data matrix.”

“By then, I’ll probably be comfortable like this,” Tina said. “It’s really not that bad now; the few memories I have are more like a dream I can barely remember. I can’t really remember what it felt like to be a man; I feel like I have always been a girl. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do; all I know how to do is office stuff now.”

“Tina, you’re intellect was not tampered with, just suppressed while you were under the behavioral modifications,” Barbara said. “It’s true much of your higher education was erased, but you can learn it again, or choose a different career. If you need some time, I feel sure you can count on having a place here. Good office assistants are not that easy to find, especially those that would be cleared for this project.”

“Could … could I work for you?”

Barbara regarded the young woman as she considered the question. She had reviewed Todd Martin’s file; he had been one of the many members of the organization who truly believed they were acting to defend the United States. If he had been guilty of anything, it was a gross naiveté regarding what was happening around him. In fact, the first time he ever entered the lab was also the last, at least as Todd Martin. Tina deserved a chance, and it would be a good idea to keep a close eye on her at any rate.    

Barbara smiled. “I’m not sure what the future holds for me either, but I do hope to remain a part of this project. There will be serious research done here now, and I would be glad to have you as my assistant.”

*****

At CTAG headquarters in Washington, Karen knocked nervously on Kyle’s office door. He had called and asked to see her a few minutes earlier, just after a lengthy call from the Secretary of State.

“Come in, Karen,” Kyle called out. As Karen entered the office, he motioned to a chair.

“So, how much trouble are we in?” she asked. Technically, CTAG had violated a few laws with their activities over the last few days.

“None,” Kyle said with a smile. “In fact, we got a big pat on the back.”

Karen smiled as she sighed. “Well, that’s nice.”

“More than that, we have a new mandate, or rather a modification to our current one,” Kyle continued. “The Secretary wants us to maintain a watch for evidence of alien technology being used by other nations. Mira is currently working on some new search protocols for mining data that may be related to such technology.”

“It would be foolish to assume we’re the only ones who have found it,” Karen said.

“I also mentioned your name,” Kyle said, his smile broadening at Karen’s obvious discomfort.

“Kyle, I didn’t do anything special,” Karen said. “I really just stumbled into the whole thing.”

“Well, as I recall from our first meeting, you’re quite graceful when you stumble,” Kyle said. Karen began blushing profusely.

“By the way,” Kyle asked, “do you own an evening gown?”

“No,” Karen said. “My clothes are all business, casual and, ah, well, more club wear than anything fancy.”

“You need to do some shopping then,” Kyle said. “You’re going to need one.”

*****

The Man and Reginald Mercer approached the door of the luxurious house, confusion and a good bit of fear evident on Mercer’s face. He didn’t understand why they were coming to this place, just a few miles from Amanda Breton’s estate. The Man rang the bell and waited, ignoring Mercer’s discomfort.

“Sir, if we’re seen here ….”

“Everything will be fine, Mr. Mercer,” the Man said. “I have the situation under control.”

The door opened to reveal a very attractive young woman in her late twenties, dark red hair flowing about her shoulders. Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw them, and then an instant later her expression changed, becoming blank, emotionless.

“Good afternoon, Sabine,” the Man said cheerfully. “This is my associate, Mr. Mercer. We would like to see the item I left in your care.”

“Of course,” Sabine said. “Please follow me.”

They followed Sabine through the house to a flight of stairs which led down to the basement. Sabine flipped a light switch at the bottom of the stairs, revealing a large indoor swimming pool. They went past the pool and a Jacuzzi and into an area with several pieces of exercise equipment. At the back wall, Sabine pressed her hand to the wood paneling, and a section slid away to reveal a heavy steel door.

The Man stepped forward and entered a code into the panel next to the door, and the sound of multiple steel bolts retracting could be heard. The Man entered the passage beyond the door and gestured for Mercer to follow, but Sabine remained in the basement.

“You may accompany us, Sabine,” the Man said. Sabine looked confused; she had never been allowed to go beyond the door before, but she obeyed and followed the two men into the passage.

“Sir, what is this place?” Mercer asked.

“A fallback in case of emergency,” the Man said. “I had it constructed a few years ago, shortly after Sabine’s mother passed away and she inherited this estate.”

“But who is she?” Mercer pressed. “I don’t recall her in any of our records.”

“Sabine has been keeping an eye on Amanda Breton for me,” the Man said. “It was she who informed me that Susan Covington was at Amanda’s estate. I’ve also used her to create several sleepers, most recently the head of the President’s Secret Service detail. She can be quite an enticing vixen when necessary.”

The passage continued on for about a hundred feet and ended in another steel door. The Man repeated the process of entering the electronic combination, and as the door swung open, the lights in the room beyond activated. Mercer gasped as he saw what lay beyond the door.

The chamber was not quite as large as the one in Nevada, which only made the Genetic Manipulation Unit seem bigger. Its gleaming silver components glittered in the light, and the conduits of pulsating purple plasma made eerie patterns on the walls.

“Yes, Mr. Mercer, this is where the original GMU was taken,” the Man said. He turned to Sabine and smiled.

“My dear, you may remember how to operate the machine now,” he said. “Please initiate a scan when I am on the table.”

Sabine nodded and moved to the control console as the Man took his place on the table. As Mercer watched, Sabine expertly manipulated the console. Around the crystal chamber, the silver spheres hummed and energy arced from them to the crystal atop the chamber. The scanning beam swept across the Man’s body, and then the hum of the machine died down.

“Excellent, Sabine,” the Man said as he rose from the table and walked over to the console. “Please remove your clothing and lay down on the table.”

Once again, Sabine obeyed without hesitation, quickly stripping away her clothing and then climbing onto the table. The Man now began entering commands into the console as Mercer shuffled nervously next to him.

“Sir, what exactly are you planning on doing?” Mercer asked.

“Planning for the future, Mr. Mercer,” the Man said.

CHAPTER 62

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2005

1400 PST

“Well, I guess I have a lot of explaining to do,” Brandi said. She looked at Admiral Hammerstein and then Susan, who sat with her and Melissa in the briefing room.

“Let me start by saying that deception is part of who I am,” she said. “However, it was very hard to deceive the people I love.”

“We understand why you had to be secretive,” Admiral Hammerstein said. “You did exactly the right thing.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea of how you accomplished everything,” Susan told her. “I’m just curious as to when you and Melissa switched places.”

Brandi looked at Melissa lovingly, happy that she once more looked like the woman she had fallen in love with. Being intimate with her identical twin had been both exciting and very creepy.

“Well, Melissa was transformed Friday night,” Brandi explained. “I posed as her off and on throughout the weekend. For instance, Saturday morning I got up early and went over to discuss the op with the guys. Later that morning, it was Melissa in the pool flirting with them and me posing as Melissa.”

“I never had a clue,” Susan said. “So all those naps you two took ….”

“We weren’t doing what you thought, Mom,” Brandi giggled. “I really was sleeping, to rest in between my performances.”

“Matt and the SEALs didn’t even know until after the two of you were gone,” Melissa said. “I think he was a little annoyed.”

Brandi sighed. “Matt’s a great guy but I think he keeps trying to put me into a mold I just don’t fit anymore.”

“He hasn’t had much time around you,” Admiral Hammerstein said. “You were his superior officer and mentor; I’m sure he’s still adjusting.”

“Boy, could I give him a lecture on adjusting.” Brandi grinned.

“Speaking of adjusting,” Susan said. “Melissa, can you tell me what it was like to be Brandi? We have a unique opportunity; Brandi has no point of reference other than her past as Brandon to compare to, but you do.”

Melissa gripped Brandi’s hand tight, her eyes moist as she gathered her thoughts.

“I do understand Brandi, and I respect her so much more,” Melissa said. “I’ll try to put this as delicately as possible; I know that right now, at this very moment, Brandi feels like I do when I am significantly aroused. Of course, I didn’t have the mental programming that she has, but just the elevated libido was extremely distracting, and I imagine it was not even fully developed in me yet; I don’t know how she can function day to day. I’m glad to be back to normal.”

Brandi looked at Susan and then Melissa and finally down at the table before she said, “Melissa you’re not exactly like you were before.”

“What do you mean?” Melissa asked.

Susan stepped in when words failed Brandi. “The data Brandi had recorded for your DNA was incomplete; she only gathers data relating to physical appearance. That part of your DNA is exactly as it was before, but the rest matches Brandi. I compared your DNA profiles, minus Brandi’s extra helix of course, and you two are genetically like sisters.”

“But I don’t feel the way I did as Brandi’s twin anymore,” Melissa said. “I’m not horny all the time.”

“I fixed it as best I could,” Brandi said. “While I was linked to the machine, I described you to it; your musical talent, your sexual preference … everything I have seen since we met, I downloaded into it so it could reconstruct your matrix. I just don’t know ….”

“Love, I think you did fine,” Melissa said. “I feel just like me.”

“There is still a lot of Brandi’s DNA in you,” Susan said. “Most notably the warrior genes and her Forerunner genetic heritage. I suspect that the GMU is incapable of altering any of that by design.”

“Melissa, I’m sorry; I tried,” Brandi said.

“Brandi, if you start crying, I am going to punch you,” Melissa grinned. “We talked about this beforehand, remember. I don’t have a single regret.”

“What about the pool?’ Brandi said, a sly grin spreading across her face. “You were having nothing but fun with the boys.”

“I can’t deny that, and it was definitely different,” Melissa said. “I mean, before I accepted my sexuality I dated guys and even had a good time with a few. I’m not a virgin in any sense of the word. But for the first time, I experienced more than just appreciation for a handsome guy; I felt desire for one … well, several actually.”

A sour look crossed Brandi’s pretty face and her mouth formed into a pout. Melissa looked concerned and put her arm around her shoulders.

“You weren’t jealous were you, sweetie?”

“Well … yes,” Brandi said. “I’m just not sure if I was jealous because you were flirting with them, they were flirting with you, or because I wasn’t the one doing the flirting.”

That brought a thunderous laugh from Admiral Hammerstein, and Melissa and Susan quickly joined in. Brandi looked at each of them and tried to look annoyed, but she couldn’t hold it. She began giggling along with the rest.

“It is possible you will find both genders attractive, as Brandi does,” Susan said once the laughter subsided. “There are many studies that suggest at least a partial link between genetics and sexual preference. However, I don’t think you need to worry about it affecting your relationship.”

“I know who I love,” Melissa said, smiling at Brandi.

Susan turned to Brandi and said, “You told us you understood everything about the bonding. What exactly did you mean?”

“The primary purpose of the bonding was as you told me,” Brandi said. “The Forerunners themselves had a natural lifespan of around three hundred years, but they had no idea if there was any limit to a Genomorph’s natural lifespan; none ever died of natural causes or even showed the slightest sign of aging. That would be a very lonely existence, so they provided a way for them to choose a mate who would have a lifespan equal to theirs. The empathic link was meant to provide a true bond; the pair would always know what the other felt; they would quite literally know their mate like themselves.

“It proved to be more useful than they had anticipated. With practice, Melissa and I will be able to learn to actually communicate through the link. It’s not telepathy like we think of it from science fiction; it’s more like a data link between computers. It’s also not always active like the empathic link, and we can only get whatever data the other sends; we can’t invade each other’s private thoughts.”

“That would be a powerful tool for a covert operative though,” Admiral Hammerstein said, “a way to keep in contact that couldn’t be traced.”

“Exactly,” Brandi agreed. “And it’s not limited by distance. If I were on a mission and downloaded data from a computer, I could send that data to Melissa. The only problem we have is that Melissa needs a special device to download the data into; her brain isn’t like mine, and she can’t establish a connection with any computer like I can. If we can locate one of those devices — it’s basically like that hand scanner you found, Mom_— then we could make use of that function.”

“Could you still send data to Melissa if necessary?” the Admiral asked. “And if so, could she relay what was in that data?”

Brandi shook her head. “That would be too dangerous. Melissa would be able to understand or at least repeat the data, but, like I said her, brain is not like mine; it doesn’t have the capacity to store large amounts of data. If it was too much, she could suffer serious brain damage. The standard procedure was for the bond mate to link to the device and act as a conduit; the data was just passed through to it.”

“It’s very possible one or more of those devices are in the vault,” Susan said.

“I was never allowed to see the vault, so I wasn’t sure how much is in there,” Brandi said.

“The computer didn’t have a list?” Susan asked.

“Only a partial one,” Brandi said. “I get the impression this place was set up in a hurry. It knew about the biomorphic armor, and it listed something that is capable of shaping the remaining cubes of that into other items. I can only bond with one set, but it’s possible to fashion the rest into additional armor pieces; it could even make a complete suit like mine for Melissa, but she won’t be able to bond with it. It would still augment her healing and repair itself though.”

“What about that message the computer displayed?” Susan asked. “It said the GMU had fulfilled its purpose in creating you.”

Brandi nodded. “I told you I believed I was planned, or at least foreseen. The damn machine wouldn’t give me any details though; apparently, I’m not ready to know the whole story.”

“That leaves a lot of questions,” Susan said. “It called you Genomorph Alpha; since it is translating into English, that would imply you are the first Genomorph, but I don’t see how that can be.”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Brandi said. “I know there is more I need to learn; I have this very strong sense that there is still something important I have to do.”

Brandi turned to Admiral Hammerstein and asked, “What about the bastard behind all this?”

“As I’m sure you suspect, the Man is not likely to face any charges,” Hammerstein said. “Even with all the evidence we secured, he managed to cover himself. Mercer and Mitchell are both heavily implicated, but they have both vanished.”

“We know where Mitchell is,” Susan said, watching as a cloud crossed Brandi’s features. It passed quickly, but she knew that Brandi still had issues that she needed to resolve.

“Evan Mitchell will not be a threat again,” Susan continued, and quickly explained what she and Barbara had done.

“That’s poetic justice,” Hammerstein said.

“Are you OK, love?” Melissa asked.

Brandi shook her head, knowing it was pointless to deny her feelings.

“No, and I don’t think I will be for a long time,” she said. “I understand why Mom did what she did, but a part of me still feels cheated. However, I promise she is in no danger from me; I can’t very well hurt a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“Mercer could still cause problems,” Susan said, hoping that she and Brandi could get past this. There was a tension between them that had not been there before, and she wanted to beg Brandi to forgive her, but she knew she had to give her time.

“He could, but the real danger is his boss,” Brandi said. “Admiral, what if I told you there is video evidence — recordings of meetings where he clearly implicates himself in the plot?”

“I can’t believe he would allow such recordings to be made,” the Admiral said.

Brandi looked around the room and smiled. “He didn’t. They were made by the Forerunner computer. It has capabilities that no one even suspected. It has sensors that have observed and recorded everything that has happened within this place since it was reactivated. I saw some of them while I was linked to it.”

Admiral Hammerstein was silent as he considered what Brandi had told them. No matter what evidence was presented, it was unlikely that there would be an arrest or trial; the incident was simply too volatile, and steps were already being taken to cover up the fact that there had been an attempted coup.

“Brandi, you know that this will never go to court,” Hammerstein said carefully.

“I’m not trying to build a case,” Brandi said. “I will do what has to be done; I just want to know if I have support.”

“Can you get me some of these videos?” Hammerstein said. “I can present them to the President. Ultimately, that kind of decision is his.”

Brandi nodded. “I can have them transferred to disk easily; the Forerunner computer is still linked to the lab systems.”

“I can get them to the President as soon as we get to Washington,” Hammerstein said.

“We’re going to Washington?” Brandi asked.

“Oh yes, I forgot to mention it,” Hammerstein said, a big grin on his face. “You ladies have been invited to dinner.”

CHAPTER 63

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2005

1600 EST

“I look like a stripper in an evening gown,” Brandi complained.

“You’d better stop,” Melissa warned as she helped Brandi adjust her gown. “You look gorgeous; you’re just nervous that’s all.”

“Well, like, if the President wants to thank me, couldn’t we do it some other time?” Brandi said. “I mean like, why in the middle of a dinner for the Prince of Wales?”

“You know why, love,” Melissa said. “If it was just us going to the White House, it might attract attention. This way, there will be hundreds of people there, and we can slip off somewhere and get it done. I think it’s great; now turn around and let me have a look.”

Brandi was stunning, dressed in an off the shoulder A line gown that fit every curve of her body perfectly. It was a shimmering violet silk that matched her eyes. A diamond choker adorned her neck, and there were glittering diamonds dangling from her ears and about her wrists.

“I don’t think the plan will work though,” Melissa said as she looked at her mate. “As soon as you walk in, everybody is going to fall in love with you; it could cause an international incident.”

Brandi beamed at the compliment and said, “They better not try anything, ‘cause I’m taken.”

“So, how do I look?” Melissa asked as she twirled for Brandi. Melissa’s gown was red silk with a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. She was equally adorned with jewelry, only hers were emeralds. The jewelry and the gowns were courtesy of Amanda, who had moved mountains to get the girls and Susan fitted and ready for the dinner.

Melissa was confused by Brandi’s reaction; both the expression on her face and the signals she was receiving through their empathic connection.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Melissa asked.

“You are so beautiful, Melissa,” Brandi said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wish … I wish I looked like a normal girl instead of some guy’s fantasy.”

“Who said you’re just some guy’s fantasy,” Melissa said, grabbing Brandi by the waist and pulling her close. “I know it’s hard for you; especially for you, but I love you just the way you are.”

Brandi’s lip started to quiver, and Melissa raised her hand and stilled the quivering with her index finger.

“Now don’t you dare start crying, because then I’ll start, and we’ll have to fix our makeup.”

OK, I won’t,” Brandi said. “I’m just so glad I have you.”

“Me too,” Melissa told her. “Now get your sexy ass in gear, Susan’s waiting for us.”

“Before we go, I need to ask you to do something for me tonight,” Brandi said, all trace of the dizzy blonde gone. “I’m going to need you to run interference for me for about thirty minutes; there’s something I have to do.”

Melissa’s eyes widened, “Brandi, surely you aren’t going to try ….”

Brandi shook her head. “I’m not going to try anything. He’ll only be a few blocks away; it ends tonight.”

*****

Edward Miller, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, stared icily at the Man as he sat across the desk from him. He wanted him in a cell, but someone higher up had already begun making noise to have him released.

The raid on his home had netted nothing in the way of evidence. The Man had not even put up a fight as agents burst in and arrested him. The smug look on his face now was infuriating Miller.

“I assure you, Director, I had no idea what Mr. Mercer and Mr. Mitchell were up to,” the Man said. “As I’m sure you are aware, I rarely visit the lab in Nevada. When the violence took place there, I was at my home.”

“Yes, we’ve interviewed your household staff,” the Director said. All of them had confirmed that their employer had been home the entire time; they probably even believed it. With the alien technology, he could easily have given them whatever memories he desired. Miller knew the Man had not been there, but it had taken them two days to even locate the address of his private residence, giving him plenty of time to make it back after he escaped the lab.

“And the incident at UCLA?” Miller asked. “Two of your agents attempted to abduct a student, and your men started a firefight. And don’t try to tell me it was self defense; we have dozens of witnesses that confirm your people fired first, without provocation or warning. The property damage is in the tens of thousands, and it’s a miracle no one was seriously hurt or killed.”

“We were pursuing a security risk that falls within our mandate,” The Man replied. “And in case you have forgotten, over a dozen of my agents were killed.”

“Your mercenaries, you mean,” Miller said bitterly. “As far as your mandate goes, your organization is not and has never been empowered to make arrests or detain individuals. You should have contacted the Bureau, and you know it.”

“If you wish to charge me, go ahead,” The Man said smugly. “Of course, that will undoubtedly lead to information coming to light that is best left hidden.”

Director Miller stared calmly at The Man, but inside he was seething. It was true. Despite the evidence they had that the organization had exceeded its authority, his hands were basically tied by national security issues. If they had something that directly implicated this man in the plot to subvert the government, then action could be taken, but he had covered his ass well.

“Maybe I can’t charge you, but your organization is finished,” Miller said. “We will be watching you. If you learn anything about the whereabouts of Reginald Mercer or Evan Mitchell, I expect you to inform me immediately.”

“Of course, I will,” the Man smiled. “I think it’s time for a vacation. I look forward to some time to relax.”

“Get out of my office,” Miller said. “You make me sick.”

The Man left, a smug grin on his face, and moments later the intercom on the Director’s desk buzzed.

“A package just arrived by courier for you, Director,” a young woman’s voice said.

“Bring it in, Julie.” Miller responded. His secretary entered, dressed smartly in a navy blue blazer and calf length matching skirt. She set the package on his desk and turned to leave.

“You look very nice today, Julie,” Director Miller complimented her.

“Thank you, Director,” Julie said with a big smile. “It’s sweet of you to say so.”

The Director returned to the report he had been reviewing when The Man had come in. It was several minutes before he turned his attention to the package that had been delivered.

The bulky envelope was unmarked, other than an internal security stamp indicating it had been scanned and cleared. Shrugging, he opened it and dumped the contents out on his desk. There were several thick file folders and a half dozen DVD ROM disks. Each of the DVDs was labeled with a date and time and had a corresponding file. He opened one of the folders and scanned the contents. His eyes widened at what he saw.

The file was a transcript of what transpired on the corresponding DVD. Miller found the DVD that matched the file and placed it into his computer. As the video began to play, he saw the man that had just left his office, along with two other men who were still at large, Reginald Mercer and Evan Mitchell.

“Everything is in place?” the Man asked. The meeting was in a briefing room; according to the transcript, it was located in the complex in Nevada.

“Yes, sir,” Mercer replied. “The SEALs will be parachuting into the area within the hour. The intelligence regarding the two companies of Republican Guards nearby has not been passed on to the mission planners. The SEALs will be totally surprised when they are hit.”

“You’re certain there will be sufficient time to acquire the artifacts?”

“No problem,” Mitchell said. “We will be monitoring the loading progress. The Iraqis will be alerted when the aircraft are nearly loaded. They should hit the base right as the planes are preparing to take off. The SEAL platoon will move to defend and should be able to hold them off until the cargo is clear.”

“But the SEALs will be eliminated, correct?” the Man asked.

Mitchell laughed. “At almost twenty to one odds? Those swabbies will send a lot of Iraqis to Allah, but they will be overrun. Besides, Anderson will order his men out when the planes start to roll; the guy’s got a hero complex.”

Miller stopped the video and picked up his phone, pressing the intercom button to buzz his secretary.

“Julie, was there any routing information with this package?” he asked. There was no response.

“Julie?”

Miller rose from his desk and walked to the office door, opening it and looking into the outer office. Julie, dressed in a forest green suit, was stirring groggily behind her desk.

“Julie, are you all right?” Miller asked as he moved to her side.

“Wh..what?” The young woman seemed disoriented. “I thought I saw…me? I…I’m sorry, Director I…I must have fainted.”

“You were just in my office!” Miller exclaimed. “You brought a package….”

But she had been dressed in blue! Miller snatched up the phone and stabbed a button.

“Get a security detail and some EMT’s up to my office immediately!” He barked. Then he saw the note on the desk.

Thanks for the compliment, sweetie! Tell Julie I’ll have the outfit cleaned and returned, and let her know I’m sorry I had to break into her apartment to get it … I had to look the part! Use the videos and files to wrap things up. I think you’ll find some faces in those videos that aren’t listed in any files. The underlings are yours, but The Man is all mine.

A Friend

Miller snatched up the phone again. “Get another security detail to the garage! Put the building on lockdown immediately!”

Somehow, he knew it was already too late.

  

*****

The Man rode the elevator down to the parking garage of the building, thinking it was time they made their move to put someone from the organization in the head spot at the Bureau. Miller needed to be retired. The man was lily white, but that had never stopped them in the past. He would get someone working on the proper evidence for a scandal first thing in the morning. If they had access to the optical programmers, he would just fix the problem that way, but for now they did not, so he would use the old fashioned method.

He reached his car and opened the door, setting his briefcase on the passenger seat as he slid in. Yes, he would get someone on the problem in the Bureau, and he would turn his attention towards that blonde pain in the ass. She was out there somewhere, and she would be under his control or dead. If she thought she had more than delayed his plans, she was sadly mistaken.

“I wonder if the bitch is even worth the trouble,” he muttered.

“Oh, you have no idea how much trouble I can be,” Brandi purred from the back seat. She was a bit out of breath after her mad dash down the fire stairs to beat the elevator. Out of breath for her at any rate, which meant she was barely breathing hard.

The Man’s hand darted for the gun under the dash, but it was not there. Then he felt the cold steel press against his temple.

“Killing me will change nothing,” he said; sweat beginning to form on his forehead. “Others will step in to fill the void. We have people everywhere; we’ve been placing them for decades.”

“Yeah, I know,” Brandi said. “I had a little chat with your computer the other day, and the Forerunner computer too. I just delivered several hours of video evidence to the FBI; meetings between you and your buddies Mercer and Mitchell, others with a number of wealthy and influential people. There’s even one with the Deputy Director of the FBI; Director Miller is not going to be happy with that.”

“How did you…”

“It’s a gift, one you gave me in a way,” Brandi stated. “There’s enough evidence to get you the death penalty; treason is really, really bad.”

“You’re very naíve if you think that will happen,” the Man said. “A public trial would only embarrass the administration and put you under a microscope.”

“If I believed it would get you what you deserved,” Brandi said, “I would let that happen.”

“It will never happen,” the Man said.

“I know,” Brandi told him. “You’re above the law; but you’re not above me.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” the Man said. “We can give you….”

“What?” Brandi snarled, pressing the muzzle of the gun into his head. “Money … power … you think I care about any of that? The only thing I want, you can’t give me, you bastard. I want my parents back.

“You think you’re so secure, pulling the strings from the shadows. You think no one can touch you, but you’re wrong. I can touch you.”

“Shooting me here will raise a lot of questions,” he tried to reason.

“Oh, you really have no idea what I can do,” Brandi said in a voice that was like ice.

The man felt the pressure of the muzzle disappear. Then he felt a soft hand slide down the side of his face. Brandi loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and then slipped her hand down onto his chest.

At first, the tingling sensation he felt was pleasant, yet it sent a wave of pure terror through him. Then pain gripped his chest like a vice. His left arm became numb, and he began struggling to breathe. The touch of the hand disappeared from his chest, and he heard the girl exit the back seat. He pulled out his cell phone and tried to punch in the panic code, but his right hand stiffened, and the phone fell from his grasp.

Brandi opened the front passenger door and leaned in, replacing the gun in the holster under the dash, and then opening his briefcase. She dropped a thick packet of papers and computer disks in it and then closed the case.

With his right hand, the fingers stiffened and claw like, the Man reached up and pulled at his tie, struggling to draw breath. Then there was a tremendously sharp pain in his chest, and he let out a long, ragged gasp before the blackness claimed him.

By the time the building was locked down, Brandi was long gone. The security detail found the body and searched the car. Documents and computer disks from the briefcase confirmed and expanded on the information the Director had received. Before news had broken of the unidentified body found in the garage of FBI headquarters, warrants were out and more arrests were being made. No mention was made of an attempted coup; the arrest warrants listed a variety of charges.

A full autopsy was performed on the body of the person known only as ‘The Man’. The coroner found massive blockages in four major blood vessels of the heart, and the heart muscle showed signs of serious damage from the reduced blood flow. It was strange, as the deceased, though nearing eighty, had been in otherwise perfect health, and there had been no prior complaints of chest pains; the medical records provided showed no history of heart problems of any kind. Still, the massive blockages indicated a problem that had been building for years. What other explanation could there be? The cause of death was listed as natural, resulting from a massive coronary.

Oddly, the security cameras in the garage all had malfunctioned during the exact time of the incident. A complete check was run, but the system seemed to be in perfect working order.

  

*****

“Melissa, have you seen Brandi?” Susan asked. Though her gown was a more traditional black, it was no less gorgeous than the girls’ gowns, and she too was appropriately accessorized.

Melissa smiled at the man she was speaking with, Nigel something or other. He was part of the British consular party, and she had to admit he was quite cute; the accent was sexy too.

~ Oh boy, this is going to take some getting used to. ~

“Excuse me just a moment, Nigel,” she said, turning to Susan. “She slipped off to the powder room a while back, and then I think she got snagged by someone for a dance. I’m sure she’ll find her way back here soon.”

“And here I am,” Brandi said. She glided towards them with a sensual grace that caused every eye in the room to follow.

“Wonderful,” Susan smiled. “The Admiral sent me to find you both. The President is ready.”

A brief moment of panic flashed across Brandi’s face as she said, “Promise me you’ll step on my foot or something if I start going all ditzy.”

“You can count on me, love,” Melissa said as she slipped her arm through Brandi’s. She turned back to Nigel and smiled.

“It was lovely chatting with you, Nigel.”

Susan led them through the crowded room as Brandi and Melissa continued to be the center of attention; due in part no doubt to their obvious affection, which they displayed without reservation.

“So is this the real dress, or is it you?” Melissa whispered.

“It’s the real thing,” Brandi said. “You know I can’t do dresses yet.”

“Your pulse is racing, for you anyway,” Melissa said. “What did you do, run back?”

“Sprinted is more like it,” Brandi said. “It was only seven-tenths of a mile; a nice easy run. Now the Mogadishu Mile, that was a run.”

Melissa looked at her for a second and said, “I never knew you were in Somalia.”

“Sweetie, I’ve done a lot of things you don’t know about,” Brandi giggled.

“So which one were you in the movie?” Melissa asked.

“The handsome one, of course,” Brandi said.

“Hmm, that narrows it down,” Melissa said. “I hope you didn’t run down Pennsylvania Avenue looking like yourself.”

Brandi turned to face Melissa, her face shocked, “Of course not, I’m a professional ... I looked like the First Lady.”

Melissa shook her head. “I knew it was a mistake to let you shake her hand.”

Of course, Melissa knew that Brandi wasn’t serious, just as she knew that she had accomplished her task. Brandi had claimed she wanted to establish an airtight alibi, just in case she needed it. Since they had been logged in for a dinner at the White House the whole time, it would be difficult for anyone who didn’t know her to connect the incident to her. Melissa knew the real reason though; she just wanted to show off.

Karen was waiting for them with the Admiral and a tall handsome man in his mid thirties. He looked very dashing in his tuxedo, and Melissa squeezed Brandi’s arm as they approached, sharing a look with her lover over the way Karen’s arm was looped comfortably in his. As they drew near, she disengaged and came over to give them both a big hug.

“You two look absolutely gorgeous,” Karen said. “Brandi…I just don’t even have the words!”

“I’ll second that,” the man with Karen said, making Brandi blush deep red.

“This is my boss, Kyle Laughlin,” Karen said, introducing her friends.

“I’ve heard a lot about you both, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Kyle said, gallantly kissing Melissa’s hand.

He did the same with Brandi, holding her hand for a moment after the kiss and looking her in the eye.

“It’s truly an honor, Brandi,” he said

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Brandi said. “Most of all, thank you for watching out for Karen.”

“That was definitely a pleasure,” Kyle said. Brandi turned to Karen and gave her a ‘We have to talk’ look, which made it Karen’s turn to blush.

“Have you ladies enjoyed the evening?” Admiral Hammerstein asked.

“Yes!” all three answered as one, resulting in a round of giggles.

“Admiral, does the President know….” Brandi started.

Hammerstein looked at her and smiled. “He’s been fully briefed. He also signed an Executive Order this morning. You have the full support of the White House.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Brandi said. “Maybe it won’t be necessary; if we’re lucky he’ll just keel over dead… OW!”

Brandi turned and stuck her tongue out at Melissa, who had just elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

“Is there something wrong, girls?” Susan asked.

“Melissa’s jealous ‘cause I’m attracting all the attention,” Brandi said

“Right.” Melissa giggled. “Like I’m not used to that.”

Susan gave Brandi a stern look, and the blonde bit her lower lip and said, “Sorry, Mom, I’ll behave.”

“I’m sorry that Amanda isn’t here.” Susan said, still eyeing Brandi. “We would have been lost from the start without her.”

“Amanda prefers to remain in the background,” Hammerstein said.

“I can relate to that.” Brandi sighed. She was having a good time, but the attention was far more than she had ever expected or wanted.

“The President is ready to see you,” an aide said as he approached the group.

They followed as the aide led them from the East Room and through the White House proper. As they entered the West Wing, they were met by a distinguished looking man in his late fifties who introduced himself as Alexander Carson, the President’s Chief of Staff. He briefed them quickly on what would be taking place and then escorted them the rest of the way to the Oval Office.

The ceremony was very low key; only the President, the Chief of Staff and the Secretary of State were in attendance, all dressed formally for the gala, which was still going on in the East Room. The President shook hands with each of them and thanked them for their part in foiling the plot to overthrow the government.

Last of all, he came to Brandi, warmly shaking her hand.

“Miss Williams, I don’t have the words to express the gratitude I and this nation owe you. Nor do I have the words to express the sense of guilt and responsibility I personally feel for the ordeal you have faced. To be honest, it is incomprehensible to me that such a thing could even be possible, and yet there is no doubt that it is. I know that no mere token can possibly repay you for your sacrifice, but perhaps in some small way this can begin to.”

The President turned to the Chief of Staff, who passed him a large wooden case and a framed certificate. Brandi turned to look at the Admiral and then Susan, both of whom were smiling. She had only been told that the President wanted to thank her personally, not that this was an awards ceremony. Beside her, she felt Melissa squeeze her hand as the President began reading.

“A devoted citizen and courageous patriot, Miss Brandi Williams has championed the causes of liberty and democracy. With honor and steadfast determination beyond her years, she has defended the security and integrity of the United States. Her actions and sacrifice go far beyond what can and should be asked of any citizen, and it is my great honor to present to her, on behalf of the American people, this Presidential Medal of Freedom with Distinction. This nation will forever be in your debt.”

As Brandi accepted the medal, her friends applauded, and she looked at each of them and realized she had been the only one who did not know this was going to happen. Everyone had been in such turmoil for the last few days that she had totally missed any indications that they were hiding something.

“Mr. President, I…I don’t know what to say,” she said, struggling to hold her emotions in check. “I couldn’t have done it without my friends … my family … I … I … dammit now I’m gonna start cryin’!”

The President smiled and turned to the Secretary of State, who was struggling to contain her giggles. She handed the President a handkerchief with the Presidential Seal embroidered on it, and he offered it to Brandi.

“It’s quite all right, Brandi,” he told her as she accepted the hanky. “Your friends told us you would.”

  

CHAPTER 64

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2005

1200 EST

“So it’s over?” Barbara Currant asked as she sipped a cup of tea in the parlor of Amanda Breton’s estate.

“The organization is crippled, but there are still enough of them running around to cause trouble,” Amanda said. “I doubt we have heard the last of them, but the major players have been dealt with.

  “Admiral Hammerstein is being placed in charge of the stockpiles of Forerunner technology, and will oversee the research into them for useful application to aid humanity. Of course, there will still be military and intelligence applications as well.”

“I’d like to be a part of that,” Barbara said. “What about Susan?”

“Susan will be taking charge of everything related to the Genomorph Protocol,” Amanda told her. “Admiral Hammerstein has already asked if you would remain in your position at the Nevada lab and oversee the work on the stockpiles of technology there.”

“I’d like that very much,” Barbara said. “I take it the Genomorph related items will be moved?”

“Yes, they are looking at an unused complex at Edwards Air Force Base,” Amanda said. “It will be much closer to Brandi and Melissa, and Susan feels Brandi will be more comfortable not having to return to the Nevada site, if she chooses to continue with the project.”

“There is still a lot we can learn from her,” Barbara said hesitantly. “And there’s a lot she still has to be told.”

“All in good time,” Amanda said. “She’s been through enough for now. Let’s give her some time to enjoy life without a shadow hanging over her.”

“Well, we owe her that,” Barbara admitted. “I know she never asked to become what she is, but we couldn’t have done this without her.”

“Nor could we have done it without you, my darling,” Amanda said. “I’m very proud of you, and very glad that this chapter of your life is over.”

“I just did what was necessary.” Barbara shrugged. “Just like you taught me, Mother. Did you go to the funeral?”

“Yes, I owed him that much,” Amanda sighed. “He lost his way, but he was not always so consumed with the pursuit of power. I went to say goodbye to the man I loved, not the man your father had become.”

  

*****

Brandi sat down on a bench on Ocean Front Walk and lit a cigarette. She had just finished a very rigorous ten miles and was drenched in perspiration. She found that jogging helped her focus; she could get into a near meditative state as she ran and thought.

She had a lot to think about. She had tried to convince herself that what she had done in Washington was necessary, that the Man had to die to ensure that he could no longer threaten the security of the nation. It was true; despite all the evidence, he had been set free because too many people feared he might expose them in one way or another, or that the country would be devastated by the scandal of what he had very nearly accomplished. Even though she did not like it, she understood the reasoning behind it.

But there was a part of her that had still craved revenge. She understood fully now why Susan had done what she did in Nevada. She would never be sure if she had killed the Man because it had to be done or because she wanted to do it.

She knew Melissa could sense her turmoil; there was no hiding her emotions from her lover since the bonding. But Melissa also knew that this was something she had to work through on her own.

She was afraid, terrified, that she was becoming the very thing they had wanted to make her; a cold, emotionless killing machine. She looked at the burning tip of her cigarette, a glowing reminder of the behavior that had been programmed into her.

“That was some pace you set.”

Brandi looked up to see a young woman stretching nearby after her own run. Brandi had seen her before; she ran along Ocean Front nearly every day at the same time Brandi usually ran.

“I’m amazed you can keep a pace like that and smoke those things,” she continued, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I’m Leia, Leia Marie Danforth.”

“I guess I’m just a slave to my habits, Leia. My name is Brandi Williams.”

Her identification was now officially established as Brandi Williams, age twenty-one. She had never really used the name Brenda anyway. All mention of her in any police records regarding the shootout had been totally expunged, and the owner of the Hummer she and Melissa had stolen had been fully compensated. Gary Rand had been taken care of too; the weapons she had stolen had been replaced with brand new ones, which of course provided an added benefit: Brandi got to keep the others. She suspected she would have use for them in the future. She had also gone and personally apologized to Gary, and he had forgiven her, which took a great weight off her mind.

“Nice to meet you, Brandi,” Leia said, smiling as she sat down on the bench. “I don’t mean to be a nag or anything, it’s just I really hate to see such a pretty girl like you smoking. It really, well, it really kind of ruins your beauty. It’s also a nasty habit and very bad for you.”

Brandi smiled. “I appreciate your concern, Leia. You’re right, it is a nasty habit. If I could quit, I would. I’m afraid it’s just programmed into me now.”

“Addiction can be hard to beat,” Leia said. “I used to have an addiction to food. I ate and ate and ate and never did a bit of exercise. Then one day I looked down at the scale, and I weighed over two hundred pounds.”

Brandi looked at the girl, who was about Melissa’s height and very close to Melissa’s physical condition. Her stomach was flat and sculpted, and her body was trim but still retained a nice girlish figure. She probably weighed less than Brandi herself did.

“I’m just saying people aren’t computers, Brandi,” Leia continued. “We put the programming in, and we can take it out. It’s never as easy to get rid of it as it was to put it in, but it can be done. All we have to do is want it enough.”

“I wish it was that simple,” Brandi said.

“It’s never simple, sweetheart,” Leia said, laughing as she rose to her feet. “Well, I’ve got to run…literally. I’ll see you around Brandi.”

“It was very nice to meet you,” Brandi said.

She watched Leia until she was out of sight, which was a long time with Brandi’s enhanced senses. She wondered if it could be that simple. Yes, she had been imprinted with programmed behavior by the GMU, but was the imprinting process really any different than the way habits were assumed by people every day?

Without even consciously thinking, she took the pack of cigarettes from her fanny pack and raised one to her lips. She caught herself as she brought the flame of her Zippo close to the tip and stopped.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she said.

Rising from the bench, she broke the cigarette in half and then crumpled the pack into a ball. She discarded it and the lighter in a nearby trash can and turned towards home.

  

CHAPTER 65

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2005

Karen was back in Venice as promised for Thanksgiving. Brandi went all out and prepared a lavish meal including two huge turkeys. She joked that they needed one just for her and Melissa.

It was a lovely day; Susan joined them, as did Ryan who had been released from the hospital a few days earlier. He seemed to enjoy the attention that was lavished on him by Brandi and Melissa, and especially by their new housemate, Gretchen. She was enrolling at UCLA and would be attending starting with the winter quarter.

Brandi was still uncertain about her future. She could easily enroll herself; she had transcripts that mirrored Brandon’s academic record from high school. To give her a college background would have been too risky. She was keeping her options open for the time being, suspecting that she would not be able to commit to life as a full time student for the foreseeable future.

College was perhaps not an option for the immediate future, but she knew it was on the horizon. One thing she had shared with no one, other than Melissa, was the complete details of the ‘final data matrix’ downloaded to her when their bonding was completed. She now had within her much of the Forerunners’ scientific and technical knowledge. She couldn’t make sense of any of it; not yet. She lacked the background education in subjects like genetics, physics and engineering to be able to even begin to understand it. Even with her computer-like mind and her vastly increased ability to learn, it would take years to gain the knowledge she needed; but she would do it.

A few days after Thanksgiving, they helped Karen pack up the last of her things for shipment to Washington. She had gotten a nice apartment there that was an easy commute to the State Department. She was looking forward to settling in at CTAG and getting to really learn her job, without the pressure of the nation’s future resting so ominously on her shoulders.

Cyndi, Renee and Amber joined them for the trip to the airport. Melissa had called them after the lab was taken to let them know it was safe to return home. At the airport they all said goodbye to Karen again and there were plenty of tears all around. After Karen’s flight left they returned to the house to catch up.

“I guess we ought to talk about the band,” Brandi said as they sat out on the deck.

“We should,” Cyndi agreed. “But first I want to say I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“Cyndi, it’s all right,” Brandi said. “You had every right to feel that way.”

“No, I didn’t,” Cyndi said. “I was mad at all of you because you didn’t trust us, and I felt you placed us at risk, but I wasn’t being honest with you. I want to be now.

“Before I met Renee, I was dating a guy; I was still in denial back then. He was a jerk and he was abusive, but I just couldn’t break it off. I guess in a way I was scared of him, but more than that, I was scared about what I really felt inside.”

Cyndi stopped and seemed to be struggling to get the words out. Renee reached over and squeezed her hand, smiling warmly.

“Then I met Renee, and, well, it was love. There was no way I could deny it anymore. I broke it off with my boyfriend, and a short time later I moved in with Renee. I never told her about my ex though, or what a psycho he was.”

“Sweetie, you didn’t know what a psycho he was at the time,” Renee said.

“I should have,” Cyndi said. “The thing is, his abuse was always verbal. He only hit me one time, and I decked him for it. But after we broke up, he wouldn’t let go. He would follow me and harass me, and I finally threatened to get a restraining order, and he backed off, at least he seemed to.

“A few weeks later, I was studying late at the campus, and he broke into the house, and he…he….”

“He raped me,” Renee said. Cyndi started crying, and Renee pulled her into her arms and continued the story.

“He worked me over pretty good too,” she said. “I’m not the fighter Cyndi is, and he was drunk, and, well, I didn’t really have a chance. Cyndi came home and found me tied to the bed and unconscious. I was in the hospital for a week.”

“When you told us your secret, it all came rushing back,” Cyndi said. “I was so afraid that someone I loved would get hurt. I was also ashamed; I’ve never been able to forgive myself for what he did to Renee.”

Brandi rose and walked over, kneeling before her friends and taking each of their hands.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I was very selfish; I wanted a life and people around me, even though I knew I was placing everyone who got close to me in danger.”

Cyndi leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “You had every right to want that, Brandi. What happened to you is something that none of us can even begin to understand. I should have tried harder.”

“Friends?” Brandi asked, squeezing her hand.

“Always,” Cyndi said. “Now, we did discuss the band while we were hiding out. I think Melissa would agree that we were pretty much coming to the end. None of us were looking to make it a career. It was great fun, and I wish we could have had more time with you as part of it, but maybe it’s time we called it quits.”

Brandi stood back up and returned to her seat next to Melissa.

“Melissa said the same thing,” she told them. “However, I was wondering if maybe you guys would be interested in getting back together for a few more shows, kind of a tour.”

“What do you mean, Brandi?” Amber asked.

“Well, you know I have some connections in the military,” Brandi said. “Admiral Hammerstein put me in touch with someone who put me in touch with someone else, and the end result is there’s this USO tour heading to Iraq for Christmas to entertain the troops ….”

  

CHAPTER 66

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2005

Brandi opened the door and actually jumped in surprise when she saw Admiral Hammerstein there, out of uniform and dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a blue, short sleeved shirt. Then she sprang forward and wrapped her arms around his big shoulders, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. She had known a car had pulled up and someone was coming to the door, but she had detected nothing that indicated a threat and had been involved in her housework, so had not focused on who it might be.

“Well, I certainly prefer the greetings I get from you these days to the ones I got from Brandon.” Hammerstein chuckled.

“Well, it would have looked a little odd for me to kiss you back then.” Brandi giggled. “What brings you out to sunny California?”

“You do, of course,” Hammerstein said as Brandi showed him into the living room. “I understand you and Melissa will be leaving for Alabama tomorrow, and I wanted to speak with you while I was in town.”

“Yes, Arnie and Jenny decided they can’t wait until January,” Brandi smiled, a faraway look coming into her eyes.

“Thinking about what ifs?” the Admiral said with a smile.

“Yes,” Brandi said, a bit sadly. “When I was linked to the computer in Nevada, I learned a lot of things … things I haven’t even told Susan or Melissa about. Part of it was about the society of the Forerunners, and the life of a Genomorph.

“They had a very sexually open society. Love was what mattered, not gender. They weren’t hedonistic or anything like that; they believed in monogamous relationships. If Melissa and I lived in their society, the Bonding would have included a ritual…a wedding, and we would have been seen as married in the eyes of everyone.”

“The people who care about you see you that way, I can assure you,” the Admiral said. “The Forerunners were thousands of years more advanced than we are, both technologically and socially. Give it time … you know you both will be around to see many wonderful changes.”

Brandi smiled warmly at the Admiral. He was old Navy, but he had never been one to stand on tradition for tradition’s sake.

“Well, I doubt you are here just to see how I am doing,” she said carefully.

“Well, I am concerned,” Hammerstein said.

“I won’t lie and say I’m fine,” Brandi told him. “It still hurts a lot. Facing the truth about my parents’ murder was hard. I know I’m not responsible, but it still feels that way.”

“I won’t give you much of a lecture, Brandi,” Hammerstein said. “You already know; we carry loss with us for the rest of our lives. Only time will make the pain ease, but it can never erase it entirely.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to worry about me. And as to your other reason for coming here, the answer is yes, with some conditions.”

“I expected that,” Hammerstein grinned.

“Melissa and I have talked it over, and we will make ourselves available to the research team,” Brandi stated. “We would like to limit it to one weekend every three months, with an additional full week once a year. Of course, we have a vested interest in learning as much about ourselves as we can, and should something come up and we need answers we would come to the lab.”

“Those conditions are acceptable,” Hammerstein said. “You didn’t mention anything about compensation.”

“I don’t expect any,” Brandi said. “I still have my ‘trust fund’ after all. I would like to see Melissa receive compensation for her part though. She still doesn’t like having to rely on me financially.”

“She’ll get it,” Hammerstein said hesitantly. “There is one more thing.”

“I’m listening,” Brandi said, bracing herself for what she expected to come.

Hammerstein reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small black leather case, handing it to Brandi. She opened the wallet and saw that it was a badge and identification with her name and picture. It identified her as a Special Agent for the Scientific and Technological Security Agency.

“OK, you actually surprised me here,” Brandi said slowly. “Does the organization with no name have a name now?”

“After a fashion,” Hammerstein smiled. “Technically, we are under the Department of Homeland Security, and officially we’ll investigate security threats involving a wide area of technological and scientific means.

“Unofficially, we will maintain a special ops division that will investigate threats from other technological means.”

“Other, as in Forerunner,” Brandi supplied.

“There is more Forerunner technology out there; we’re certain of that. Our technology is just getting to the point where we can make heads or tails of most of it, and others may be doing the same.”

“You’re right, Admiral,” Brandi said. “There is more out there. Another thing that I learned from the computer is that there were hundreds of caches scattered across the world. There was no specific information on where they are or what is in them, but there is a lot of it out there.”

“We have to assume that at least some of it will be found,” the Admiral told her.

“You’re worried that there might be another machine,” Brandi said. “That someone might make another like me.”

“Brandi, I assure you there will never be another like you,” the Admiral said with a rueful smile. “But there is a possibility that others may create Genomorphs, or something even more dangerous.”

“I’ll have to talk this over with Melissa, but I have no objections in principle,” Brandi said. “Again, I have a vested interest in this; I need to use my abilities. They’re part of who I am.”

“I promise we will stay out of your life as much as possible,” Hammerstein assured her. “But we would like to be able to call on you for aid if necessary. You would report directly to me, or through Susan to me, and I report directly to the President.”

“I just hope nothing comes up before Christmas,” Brandi said.

“Ah yes, the band,” Hammerstein laughed. “I’m glad that worked out for you. I am a bit surprised that you want to go back to Iraq.”

“I need to,” Brandi said. “There’s something I need to do there. In fact, I could use your help getting it done.”

  

CHAPTER 67

CHRISTMAS DAY, 2005

Located forty-two miles north of Baghdad, Balad Air Base was home to approximately twenty-five thousand US troops. The base was very much like a small American city, with two exchanges, a large movie theater, a Pizza Hut and a twenty-four hour Burger King.

The heat was brutal, but that did not dim the enthusiasm of the troops as the Post-Modern Bimbos took the stage for their portion of the USO show. They were nothing more than the warm up for the bigger names to appear later, but the five gorgeous women had already attracted plenty of attention as they toured the facility earlier. The fact that Brandi allowed herself to go a bit wild in her choice of attire was in no small part responsible for the hubbub.

Marine Lieutenant Sean Schofield had not been planning on attending the concert; he did not really like crowds or loud music and wasn’t really looking for something to remind him he was so far from home on Christmas. But something had drawn him towards the concert, and as the band began to play, he found himself mesmerized by the gorgeous blonde on stage. He began working his way through the crowd, almost as if she were calling to him.

By the mid point of the concert, he had finally worked his way to the front of the crowd, having used his intimidating steel gray eyes to stare down a few who had protested his advance. Not many could meet Sean’s eyes when he wanted to intimidate, though he rarely did it. It had, however, proven to be a useful trait in the Corps.

As he looked up at the stage, the band began playing a slow song, a cover of Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Some Kind of Miracle’. The lead singer’s eyes closed as she began to sing, and the words flowed over Sean like warm water. When she opened her eyes, she looked straight at him; their eyes locked, and Sean was again mesmerized — this time by the striking color he saw there, a deep violet that seemed to burn with an inner fire. The blonde smiled, and Sean knew beyond any doubt that she was smiling at him. There was something about her, something that was reaching into his very soul.

All too soon the concert was over, and as the blonde came to the edge of the stage, the crowd of servicemen and women surged forward. Sean felt himself carried along, and, as if of its own will, his hand rose like the others, reaching out. The girl seemed determined to shake every hand there and to shout out some kind of encouragement, but when she finally grasped Sean’s hand and their eyes met once more, it was as if time froze. She looked at him, and her mouth dropped; the words she had been going to say evaporating as a current passed between them. Then someone shoved Sean aside, and the contact, and the moment, was broken.

The band finally had to leave the stage, but as they reached the back, the blonde turned around, her eyes searching the crowd. She found Sean, and she smiled, then she turned and followed her friends.

“Who was that?” Melissa asked as the band moved back behind the stage to their dressing room. “Or maybe the question should be what was that?”

Brandi looked at her, a somewhat glazed expression on her face.

“I really don’t know, love,” she said. “That Marine, when he touched me, I had the oddest sensation….”

“I felt it too,” Melissa said, a mischievous smile spreading on her face. “Should I be jealous?”

“You will always be my one true love,” Brandi said. “I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t want to break any hearts.”

“I’ll accept an IOU,” Melissa told her, still grinning. “Just remember, I charge wicked interest.”

Back outside, Sean continued to stare after the girl for a long time. Eventually, he made his way out of the crowd, but even when he had reached his quarters, he could not get her face, her eyes, out of his mind. His hand still tingled where they had touched. He knew with absolute certainty that he would see her again.

  

*****

Sabine Rosseau leaned back in the chair behind her desk and sipped a glass of cognac. Her caution had been warranted; the Genomorph had proven far more formidable than they had imagined. Her organization had been crushed but not destroyed; she still had operatives that remained hidden.

Her organization; she laughed at the thought. She had only been a woman for a few weeks. She wondered how the girl would react if she ever learned that the person she had killed was actually the real Sabine, stripped of any memories of her past and programmed to act appropriately, all the while remaining totally loyal to her.

She still had a power base, and a significant stockpile of Forerunner artifacts. All of the optical programmers had been lost, but that was of no concern. She would make use of her contacts outside the country and begin rebuilding.

She also had the most important item of all, the second GMU, secure in the basement of her estate. Thinking of the GMU reminded her of her newest servant, and as she drained her glass, she pressed a button on her desk. Almost immediately, the door to the office opened, and a pretty brunette in a maid’s uniform entered.

“Vous avez sonné, maá®tresse Sabine?” ‘You rang, Mistress Sabine?’

“Yes, Merci, be a dear and pour me another cognac,” Sabine said as she extended her glass. She regarded the girl as she took the glass with a smile and walked over to the mini bar.

The dress was sexy but not overly so, not like a maid’s fetish outfit. She did have to maintain a certain appearance after all. Merci was really a lovely girl, and of course she was doing her a great service by taking her into her employ. While Merci understood English perfectly, she was incapable of speaking a word of it, and though she was twenty years old, she had very little education. She was, however, an excellent domestic servant.

Merci brought her drink to her, and Sabine accepted it with a smile.

“Thank you, Merci, that will be all for now.”

“Oui, maá®tresse Sabine,” the pretty brunette said and then turned to leave. As she reached the office door, Sabine spoke softly once more.

“I did warn you not to fail me again.”

As Merci left the office, a single tear traced a path down her cheek.

  

CHAPTER 68

DECEMBER 27, 2005

The Humvee pulled through the broken down gate of the compound and stopped a short distance away from a small marble marker. It was escorted by a pair of Bradley fighting vehicles carrying two infantry rifle squads. There had been insurgent activity in the surrounding area, and the brass did not want anything to happen to the two young women in the hummer.

Staff Sergeant Ken Lerner was amazed that they had even been given clearance to come out here. The site was still something of an enigma; no one knew for certain what had been in the bunker. But the story still made the rounds of a platoon of Navy SEALs, outnumbered almost twenty to one, and the officer who had single-handedly held off a reinforced company of Republican Guards while the support personnel and his men escaped.

Brandi took a deep breath and then exited the Humvee. Admiral Hammerstein had pulled a lot of strings to get them out here, and now that she was here, she was tempted to tell them to turn around and leave. She did not though, and as she stood beside the hummer, she felt really odd in the desert pattern BDU’s, body armor and Kevlar helmet. She smiled at the thought; there was a time when she’d felt odd dressed in anything else.

Melissa joined her on the sand, and their escort, Sergeant Lerner did as well. Brandi turned to the tall, handsome NCO and smiled.

“Could we have just a few minutes, sweetie?” she asked. “I promise we won’t get into any trouble.”

“OK, Miss, but please don’t wander far from the marker,” Lerner said. “And don’t stray outside the fence, there may still be mines out there.”

“We won’t, honey,” Brandi flashed him another sunburst smile. “And if you don’t start calling me Brandi, I’m gonna be sad.”

“Well, I sure wouldn’t want that, Brandi,” Lerner grinned.

The two young women walked over to the stone and stood there for a moment. There was an inscription on the marker:

In Honor of Lieutenant Commander Brandon Anderson

United States Navy, 1^st Platoon, Seal Team Eight

June 23, 1965 - April, 18, 2005

Congressional Medal of Honor Recipient for action against a numerically superior force on 23 March, 2003. On that day, Commander Anderson demonstrated valor and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty, upholding the finest traditions of the United Sates Navy and the Navy SEALs. While engaged in the investigation of a suspected chemical weapons storage site, Lieutenant Commander Anderson’s platoon came under heavy fire….

“Are you okay, love?” Melissa asked.

“I’m fine,” Brandi assured her. “I just really needed to see this place. In a very real sense, this is where I was born.”

Melissa looked around at the bleak landscape, which showed no evidence of the battle that had raged here. She slipped her arm around Brandi’s waist and pulled her close.

“You know, three other men died that night,” Brandi said. “They were no less brave than me. They stepped up and put on the uniform … no one forced them. Why should I be singled out as a hero?”

“Because we need heroes,” Melissa told her. “We need those men and women who show us that one person can make a difference. Make no mistake, love, what you did was special. The world may never know how special; that on that night you altered the course of history forever.”

She turned to look Brandi in the face, her eyes lit with intensity.

“Don’t you ever doubt your heart!” Melissa told her. “You bear that title for those three men, and the two thousand others who have died in this war, and the countless others in wars past.”

Brandi considered her words, looking around at the buildings, already showing the ravages of the desert. She closed her eyes, vividly recalling that night, the mission, the explosion. A single tear rolled down her face.

She knelt before the stone and laid the small wreath of flowers she had brought against it.

“Goodbye, Brandon,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you. You’re a part of me, the best part … but it’s time to live my life.”

Rising, she stepped back, took one more look around and smiled, a little sadly, at Melissa.

“We’d better get back before the boys get antsy,” she said.

The two walked back to the hummer arm in arm. Sergeant Lerner held the door open for them as they entered the hummer, and then took his seat next to the driver.

“Did you know Commander Anderson, Brandi?” Lerner asked as the small convoy headed back to Baghdad.

“He was … a friend,” Brandi smiled. “A very good friend.”

“I never had the pleasure, but he was a hell of a soldier, even if he was a swabbie,” Lerner said. “Yes ma’am, they don’t come along like him often. He was an honest to God warrior.”

“Yes, he was,” Brandi said, still smiling.

Melissa leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and then whispered softly in her ear.

“You still are, love. You still are.”

  

The End … of the beginning

Notes:

As always your comments are welcome and appreciated. Mere words cannot express my gratitude to Janet, Carla and Amelia for their help. I believe what started out as a good story became great because of their assistance. Most of all I thank everyone who has read, and especially those who have commented on, Genomorph. The input I have received has encouraged me and truly made me want to deliver the very best work I could.Want to comment but don't want to open an account? Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.