Synopsis:

Synopsis: Brandi’s journey of self discovery begins with a tour of Southern California. A sinister plan is revealed and an unexpected ally is found. Part 2 of 5.

Warning: This story contains no graphic sexual content but does have adult situations and language. There are also action scenes with graphic descriptions of violence.

Story:

Genomorph Part 2 of 5

By Breanna Ramsey

Edited by Janet Nolan and Carla Winters

CHAPTER 8

Brandi opened her eyes and blinked groggily in the morning light. The vibration of the semi as it cruised up the interstate brought her mind into focus and she remembered where she was. She straightened up in the passenger seat of the semi, noticing that a blanket had been stretched over her as she slept. She smiled at the big truck driver in thanks.

“When you sleep you sho sleep sound,” Arnie Belcher commented with a grin from the driver’s seat.

“I guess I was pretty tired,” Brandi said. In truth, she did not require much sleep, and could go for days without it. But she had learned that she could slip into a deep, restorative sleep when necessary, which she had taken to calling ‘Zen Sleep’. The only disadvantage was that once in that state she tended to stay that way until she had recovered sufficiently, and was for all practical purposes helpless. That she had allowed herself to slip into it in the cab of the truck meant that her escape had taxed her more than she had thought…and that she really did trust Arnie, despite the fact that she had only met him a few hours earlier.

“Where are we?” She asked, looking at passing scenery that was familiar.

“Headin north outta San Diego,” Arnie told her. “Made my stop about twenty minutes ago…you slept through the whole thing.”

“We’re near Coronado aren’t we?”

“Just passed it a few minutes fore you woke up,” Arnie confirmed. “You know San Diego?”

“Not well,” Brandi told him. “I knew someone stationed at the Naval Base…once.”

Brandon had been stationed at Coronado during his first tour with the SEALs. As a young ensign, he had tended to stay close to the base, and now Brandi was wishing she…he…had taken more time to explore the city.

Damn this is confusing. Brandi thought. The world around her looked so fresh and new, and yet at the same time she could remember seeing it all before.

“You mind if I smoke, Brandi?” Arnie asked, reaching for a pack of Marlboro 100’s in the center console. “I know I shouldn’t but sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me awake on these here long hauls.”

Brandi had noticed the cigarettes earlier, and had been staring at the pack off and on for some time; a desire for one had been building within her.

That is too weird, she thought. I’ve never smoked in my life.

As soon as she thought it, she realized it was not quite accurate. Brandon had never smoked in his life. She had really only been alive for four months, and had been born with certain behavior programmed into her, much of which had been gathered from pornographic web sites. In the lab she had never been around cigarettes, so perhaps the behavior had remained dormant until now.

Great, I wonder what other surprises might be waiting for me.

 “I don’t mind, especially if you’re willing to share,” Brandi answered Arnie with a smile. There was no sense in fighting it, especially since it couldn’t do her any harm. Disease; even cancer was no longer a concern of hers. Besides it was far preferable than giving in to other impulses she had been programmed with, at least in her mind.

“Well I hate to see a pretty young lady like yourself messin up her health like me, but ain’t my place to stop ya,” Arnie said. “There’s a buncha packs in the glove box, help yourself.”

Brandi took a pack from the glove box and opened it. She lit one with Arnie’s Zippo lighter and took a deep drag, not sure what to expect. She was surprised that she actually enjoyed it. She had expected it just to be bland, programmed behavior, but apparently the protocol had wired her to receive satisfaction from the vice. But then her programmed sexual desire and the pleasure she got from indulging it was far from bland, so there was really no reason for this to be. It also seemed to ease her tension, quiet the need that had been growing within her since she left the lab. Being in the confines of the truck cab, so close to a man was not making things easier. Arnie was not exactly her type though, but that thought brought little comfort. It meant she actually had a type of man that would appeal to her.

She had only been out in the world a few hours and she was already beginning to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake. In the lab they had treated her like a thing, except for Susan of course, but in the world would she just be treated as a different kind of thing? She knew people would see her body first and foremost. After all, that was the whole point of the Genomorph program. Would that be any better than being seen as a lab rat?

She had one spark of hope, and it was the big trucker. He treated her like a person. No, that was not right; he treated her like a lady. When they stopped he helped her out of and later into the truck. His eyes never wandered nor did his hands. When they talked, he listened to her and did not discount what she said just because she was a voluptuous blonde that acted like a bit of a ditz. And she found that with Arnie she could carry on a normal conversation, like she had with Susan and the Admiral. She did not feel the need to slip into ‘bimbo speak’, though it sometimes still colored her speech. What was different about Arnie? Was it just because she felt safe around him?

She studied Arnie as they drove along the interstate. He was a big man, at least six foot four, but he was in fairly good shape, with just the hint of a ‘spare tire’ around his middle. She guessed he was in his early to mid thirties, and he had a mop of thick, red hair atop his head. She noticed he had a set of dog tags hanging from the rear view mirror.

“So you were in the service?” Brandi asked, gesturing towards the dog tags.

“Yeah, doin the same thing I do now,” Arnie confirmed. “Course, drivin’ in Iraq was a mite more exciting than it is here,” When he said Iraq it came out as Eye-rack.

“I can imagine,” Brandi muttered, the night that forever changed her life coming to mind all too vividly. Reflexively her hand reached down to rub her right leg.

“I really do appreciate the lift Arnie,” Brandi continued after a bit. “And I appreciate you not asking a lot of questions, especially after I stowed away in your truck.”

“Maybe I could, like, pay you somehow?” she continued, her voice taking on a suggestive tone.

Arnie shot her a disapproving look and Brandi’s blood froze. It had sounded like a total come on, and it was not even what she had meant to say. So much for not sounding like a bimbo around him.

“Shit Arnie, I am so sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t mean that to sound the way it did. I meant maybe I could help you unloading. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

Arnie chuckled and said, “Don’t fret none, just kinda took me by surprise. You oughta be careful though darlin’. A pretty girl like you, well, some fellas would be more’n happy to take advantage when ya say somethin’ like that.”

“I know,” Brandi sighed. “Sometimes I want to say something and the words come out wrong. I really hate it when I do it.”

“Aww that’s nothin’ you got a corner on, Brandi,” Arnie assured her. “My mouth works faster than my brain all the time.”

As they traveled they talked and she learned more about Arnie. He had been born and raised in Alabama, was not married though he had a sweetheart back in Birmingham, and he had been driving since he was eighteen, when he had joined the army. His reserve unit had been activated at the start of the war and then after his tour he had gone back to trucking. His current load was auto parts for various parts houses.

Of course he was curious about her, but he did not pry too much. She told him she had been in a bad relationship and had left, trying to figure out where her life was going. It was basically the truth. She also assured him that she was over twenty-one, which was true as her ID showed that she was six months past her twenty-first birthday. Ryan had used February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day, as her birthday. No doubt he had figured using Brandon’s birthday or the date of her transformation was too risky, providing a potential means of locating her established identity as Brenda Williams. And he probably thought using Valentine’s Day was funny.

An hour later they made their next stop and Brandi insisted on helping Arnie with the unloading. Most of the parts were small; alternators and water pumps and such, and the unloading proceeded swiftly.

There was one stack of boxes left for this stop. Arnie was trying to force the blade of a hand truck under the stack and did not notice a crated transmission, perched precariously above him on the stack to his right. As he rammed the cart blade home, he bumped the stack and the transmission began to fall.

“Arnie, look out!” Brandi cried, yanking the big trucker backwards as she did. The hand truck and its load went with him, back and to the floor as Brandi caught the crate. She eased it gently to the floor and then turned to make sure Arnie had not been hurt when he fell.

“Good God A’mighty girl, you are stronger then ya look!” Arnie exclaimed. “That transmission’s gotta weigh close to two hunerd pounds!”

“Well, I just kinda balanced it against the stack there and let gravity do the rest,” Brandi said sheepishly. She had lifted far greater weights in the lab.

“Well, you sho saved me from a dented skull,” Arnie said. “I’m glad I let ya help now, that’s fo sho.”

With the unloading finished, Arnie went off to the office with the store manager to get his paperwork taken care of. Brandi took a seat at a small break table outside the loading dock and lit a cigarette.

“Hey, I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Brandi looked up at the young man speaking and smiled, a totally reflexive action. He was about her age, her actual biological age of seventeen, and was tall and lanky. He was definitely not a hunk but he was cute enough, with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. He took a seat on the concrete bench next to her and smiled back.

“I’ve never been around here,” she said sweetly. “I’m Brandi. I’m gonna be movin’ out here and my uncle Arnie is showin’ me around while he makes his deliveries.”

Arnie had suggested the story. Though the rig was his and he could give someone a lift if he wanted, some companies got a little nervous if people hauling for them picked up hitchers. The problem was as soon as she opened her mouth to speak to Jeremy she slipped into character. But even though she did not know this boy, he was certainly no threat to her, so why was she reacting as though he was?

“Nice to meet you, Brandi,” the boy said. “My name’s Jeremy. You plan on going to school out here?”

“I’m not sure what I’m gonna do yet,” Brandi said. Now she could feel herself slipping into ‘tease mode’ as she called it. Already she had adjusted her posture; sitting up straighter and making her breasts jut forward against her t-shirt. She could feel his eyes roving over her and as hard as she tried not to, she loved the attention. She felt her state of arousal increasing under his gaze.

That was the most disturbing thing; she really did love the attention. She did not know whether it was programmed into her or because of her female brain chemistry. In the end, was there really any difference? It was just one type of programming versus another. But with the arousal came terror, and suddenly she knew why she was acting according to her programmed cover personality.

It was fear. Even the calmest, coolest operator felt an underlying current of fear when entering into danger. It was what kept them sharp, gave them an edge. If her programming was keyed to her own fear response, then that would explain why she was acting like she was. She wasn’t afraid of Jeremy, she was afraid of herself. She was afraid of the feelings stirring within her…feelings she did not have with Arnie because he did not react to her the way Jeremy did. And that fear was driving her to act in a way that was only making it worse!

“A good looking girl like you should be modeling clothes or something,” Jeremy said, quite seriously.

Yeah right, Brandi thought. With this body the only magazines that would be interested in me wouldn’t care about clothes.

What she said was, “Really? You think I’m pretty enough for that?”

“Well yeah!” Jeremy said. “I’ve never seen a girl as pretty as you.”

“Aw, now you’re gonna make me blush,” Brandi giggled. And dammit she did start blushing!

She knew she should get up and walk away; tell him she had to go get something from the truck, tell him she had to go to the ladies room…anything. But a very large part of her was enjoying the game and the attention, even amidst the fear it bred within her. And she realized it was a game. She knew that he was hers to take if she chose. He would think he was making all the moves but in reality he was just putty in her hands. She could have her way with him…all she had to do was give in.

Hurry up Arnie…please!

*****

“Nice little road twitch ya got there Arnie,” the store manager said with a grin.

“I’d ‘preciate it if ya didn’t talk about my sister’s little girl that way Max,” Arnie said and the grin disappeared.

Arnie could see Brandi at the break table on the dock, talking with a kid who worked at the warehouse. She seemed to be having a good time. Of course Arnie knew the boy likely had only one thing on his mind. He wasn’t blind; he knew that Brandi was a very beautiful girl. He figured she could handle herself well enough.

While Max was going over the paperwork for the load Arnie pulled his tablet PC from his briefcase and logged onto the Independent Truckers Association website. Though Arnie appeared to most as a simple long haul trucker, he actually had a two year degree in business management and his rig was equipped with all the hi tech gadgets necessary to keep him working all he wanted without tying him to the same trips repeatedly.

Once the site loaded he checked the available freight board and found a suitable load in San Francisco bound for LA, scheduled to be ready for pickup the next morning. It was from a small computer manufacturer and the price was right, so he filled out the required information and submitted his availability. After he logged off he made a quick cell phone call to the company to confirm the load and by then Max had the paperwork ready for him to sign.

As Arnie left the office, another worker from the warehouse walked over to him as he stopped to get a drink from a water fountain, a big smile on his face.

“How’s it goin’, Arnie?” the man asked.

“It’s goin’ Joe, it’s goin’,” Arnie grinned, shaking the man’s offered hand. “Glad to see this job is workin out for ya.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Joe said. “Max can be a real boor sometimes but everyone mostly ignores him. I heard what you told him about the girl.”

“Yeah well…”

“Seems I remember you don’t have a sister Arnie,” Joe said, still grinning.

“Aww she just needs a little time ta get her head together ‘sall,” Arnie said. “She’s a sweet kid really.”

“Still pickin’ up strays huh Arnie?” Joe asked. “Why do you do it?”

“Fella did something for me once; saved my life,” Arnie said, his eyes looking haunted for a moment. “Since then, I figger I owe it ta him ta help folks out when I can. Anyway this one found me. She snuck inta the sleeper last night while I was makin a pit stop.”

“Well, you know the secret is safe with me,” Joe said, slapping Arnie on the back. “I still remember when I was the stray. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t picked me up. You’ve got a good heart Arnie.”

*****

“I think you’re really cute Jeremy,” Brandi giggled. Her mind was screaming for her to shut up, but instead she slid over on the concrete bench until her body was touching his. The more she tried to deny the feelings welling up inside her the deeper she slipped into her role.

“Say, um, there’s a party at my frat house this Friday night; maybe you’d like to go?” Jeremy asked.

“Oh wow, a party,” Brandi said. “That sounds like it would be really fun!”

“So you’ll go with me?”

Brandi opened her mouth to answer, and she knew the answer was going to be yes. She was spinning out of control now, and the thought of a house full of fraternity boys had driven her into a mental frenzy. There was not even a thought of turning him down. Why should she? She was a hot girl and she deserved to have a little fun.

“Time to go Brandi,” Arnie said as he stepped up to the table. Brandi’s mind snapped out of the fog it was in and she breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“Aww gee, I’d really like to but I don’t know where I’ll be by then,” Brandi answered instead as she bounced to her feet. “It was really sweet of you to ask though. Take care, Jeremy!”

“Well you sho looked like you was havin’ a good time,” Arnie said as they walked back to the truck.

“Oh, I was and I wasn’t Arnie,” Brandi replied, earning her a puzzled look. “Let’s just say I don’t have a lot of self control or common sense when I’m talking to boys.”

“Well, you don’t gotta worry none Brandi,” Arnie smiled, putting his big arm around her shoulder. “Ole uncle Arnie will make sho they don’ give ya no trouble.”

CHAPTER 9

Susan looked up from her desk at the sound of knocking, to see Admiral Michael Hammerstein standing in the doorway to her office.

“I had a feeling I might be seeing you soon Admiral, please come in and have a seat,” Susan said smiling.

“My friends call me Mike, and I think you and I should be friends,” The Admiral said as he closed the door behind him. He took a seat before Susan’s desk and smiled.

“I think you’re right Mike, please call me Susan.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from her,” Hammerstein said without preamble.

“I’m the last person she would contact,” Susan replied. “Brandi will know that I am being watched carefully. This office is secure, though, so you can speak freely. And yes, Mike, before you ask, if I did hear from Brandi I would find a way to let you know. She trusts you, and I know you’re deeply concerned about her.”

“I had been keeping my eye on Brandon for a long time,” Hammerstein told her. “I could see him one day taking my job. But as special as he was, there’s something even more special about Brandi. She has all of his drive…his sense of duty and commitment, but on top of all of that she has such innocence. I hope she can hold onto it.”

“What’s the attitude in Washington?” Susan asked. “I’m afraid I missed my meeting.”

“The ‘Organization’ is running this show for now,” Hammerstein said bitterly. “And they want Brandi back. I have been told in no uncertain terms that my involvement with this affair is over.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Whatever I have to,” Hammerstein said, his voice filled with conviction. “I just feel so damn helpless!”

The Admiral growled, springing to his feet and pacing about the office, “It’s like my daughter is out on her first date or something, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean Mike.”

“Do you think she can do it? Can she…I don’t know…can she come to terms with who she is now?”

“I believe this is the only chance she has to become a real, genuine woman and not some set of programmed responses,” Susan told him. “She needs to be out in the world, to interact with people and learn how to fit in. And yes, she needs to screw up and fall flat on her ass a few times as well. It’s how we learn.

“Brandi was kept in an emotionally and socially sterile environment here. I tried my best but she needs that wide variety of interactions that can only come from living in the real world if she is going to develop.”

“Still, I wish she didn’t have to do it alone,” Hammerstein muttered.

“She won’t be alone,” Susan assured him. “She’ll make friends, probably a lot more easily than she could believe. Despite the environment she was trapped in here, Brandi is a very outgoing person, far more so than Brandon ever was. My biggest concern is that she will have a hard time keeping a low profile.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because one thing she most surely retains from Brandon is a sense of justice and a proactive approach to dealing with conflict,” Susan said. “She won’t back down from a fight if one is forced upon her. And with her heightened combat abilities, she may even seek it out.”

“I would have pitied the poor fool that tried to start something with Brandon,” Hammerstein grunted. “I pity them more if they try it with Brandi.”

*****

“Is Doctor Covington going to be a problem?” the Man asked quietly. He had no name, no identity. Officially he did not exist. And yet he wielded power that made presidents tremble. For forty years he had run the organization, which also did not officially exist, except in rumor, and most of those rumors were fostered to mislead.

“I don’t believe so sir,” Reginald Mercer replied. “She won’t help us in any way, I am certain. In fact I believe if given the opportunity she would help the girl elude us, and we can possibly turn that to our advantage.”

“Cut her loose?”

“Yes sir. The girl will never try to contact her as long as she is associated with the project. But if she were to be removed and were out in public and more accessible, the girl might get careless.”

“You really do have a problem using her name don’t you?” The Man smirked. He had seen the reports Covington had filed, her assertions that Mercer’s obvious animosity towards Brandi and his continued refusal to address her as a person was only making matters worse. It was undoubtedly true. Mercer was a toad, totally lacking in any ability to exercise tact or diplomacy. He would never rise above his current position in the organization.

But he was a useful toad, and why the girl had become rebellious was immaterial. Their intention was to break down her personality and make her a pliable tool. The sooner they had her back in their custody the better.

“Very well, I’ll start the wheels turning. It will take some time, Doctor Covington has friends. She should be off the project by the end of the week. How is the rest of the plan proceeding?”

“On schedule,” Mercer said. “Our operatives are continuing with the sleeper programming and we will be ready to activate them on schedule.”

“Excellent,” the Man smiled.

*****

Kevin Driscoll was looking forward to a weekend off. Most people would see his job, part of the Secret Service detail for the President’s Chief of Staff, as exotic and exciting. Mostly it was routine with an underlying current of tension. There was a lot of traveling which led to lots of jet lag. A weekend was something to be treasured.

As he was on his way home he decided to stop at a bar in Georgetown for a couple of beers. He was on his second when he spied the woman. She was tall and willowy, with long, dark red hair and smoldering eyes. She noticed his gaze and smiled a sultry smile.

 A short time later they were seated in a booth talking and laughing. Kevin thought of himself as a ladies man and he was handsome, and of course his job required him to be fit. He was beginning to think his weekend might turn out even better than he had anticipated.

“That’s an interesting pendant you have,” he commented. The redhead wore a large purple gem on a silver chain about her neck. The chain was just long enough that the pendant nestled in her cleavage, which was where his gaze kept straying. The stone was oval and about the size of a large egg. It was set in a silver frame that looked like some kind of stylized circuit board.

“It is fascinating isn’t it,” she said in a sultry alto. Her hand grasped the pendant and extended it towards him so he could get a better look. Kevin saw a bright purple flash, like the stone had caught a ray of sunlight, and blinked reflexively.

“Be a dear Kevin and go out to your car and wait for me,” the redhead said.

Obediently Kevin rose and left the bar. The woman waited a few minutes and then left as well. She walked out to Kevin’s Dodge Stratus and climbed in on the passenger side.  Kevin remained as he was seated behind the wheel staring ahead blankly.

“Look at me Kevin,” the woman said. Kevin did as he was asked and turned to face her.

The redhead reached into her purse and removed a device which looked like a miniature ophthalmologist’s vision tester, with straps to secure it in place. She settled the device over Kevin’s eyes, secured it in place and then looked through the eyepieces on her side to verify that it was aligned correctly. After a few brief adjustments she sat back and smiled.

“Just relax and enjoy the show Kevin,” she said as she pressed a button on the device.

Kevin awoke the next morning, thinking he was very glad he had decided to come straight home and get a good night’s sleep instead of stopping off for a beer or two. It always ended up being more, and there was no reason to start the weekend off with a hangover. And the sleep had done him good. He felt great. In fact as much as he had been looking forward to the weekend he was eager to get back to work.

He showered and shaved, and after dressing he stopped at his dresser and looked at himself in the mirror, making sure his hair was styled just right. On the dresser top, next to his pistol and ID was a silver case about the size of a thick paperback novel. Kevin opened the case. Inside was an odd looking pair of goggles and a large purple pendant on a silver chain. He took the pendant out and placed it around his neck, and then closed the case.

Yes he really was ready for Monday to arrive. He had a lot of work to do. 

CHAPTER 10

Brandi left the drug store; she had stopped in to pick up some much needed toiletries, and began walking back to the hotel she was staying in for the night. She had offered to get a room for Arnie as well, but he insisted on sleeping in his truck, and could not be talked out of it. She had finally settled on getting two keys from the desk and gave him one, making him promise to use it if he needed the bathroom.

She was very restless, and it had little to do with her sexual desire. In the four months she had been in the lab, she had undergone almost daily testing. Many of the tests were sparring matches to track the development of her combat abilities, and they were the one thing that had kept her sane. Though she had only been gone for a day, her last match had been the week before, and the tension of her escape was only making matters worse. She really wanted to blow off some steam.

And her sex drive did figure into it in a way; the training had always helped her release some of that tension. It provided her with a chance to flirt with her partners without the risk of it going too far, and the satisfaction she got after defeating a group of guys much bigger than her was almost as good as what she felt when she pleasured herself…almost.

Arnie had warned her not to stray far from the hotel; the area to the south was gang territory. An idea formed in her mind and she smiled. It was a little out of character; she would be technically picking a fight and that was not her style. Then she realized it was not Brandon’s style…but she was not Brandon anymore.

She looked at her reflection in the window of the store she was passing. Even in the baggy t-shirt and BDUs she knew she looked hot…but she could look hotter. The proper attire would make her look like more enticing bait.

There was a Target in the shopping center and she started towards it but stopped suddenly as she was passing a small store called Sassy. She gazed for a moment at the tight, sexy clothing displayed in the window and before she knew it she was inside.

Thirty minutes later she was in her hotel room, dressed in a neon pink lycra crop top with a scooped neck. It was the largest size they had carried, and it stopped well above her navel, exposing her slim waist and tight stomach and emphasizing her large breasts as it clung to them. Across the front the word ‘Tease’ was emblazoned in glittering silver. Her BDUs had been replaced by a pair of black spandex pants that looked like she had applied them with a brush, and she wore a pair of short leather boots with wide three inch heels. She found she could walk with no problem in the heels after a few minutes of practice, though she dreaded the thought of wearing stilettos. A small black purse completed the outfit; she would need it as there was no way to fit anything in the pockets of the skin tight pants.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a few minutes, and then looked at the pink makeup kit she had purchased. She opened it with all the care she would have used with a suspicious package, and then sighed and went to work.

“I look like a clown,” she moaned after her first attempt. Fortunately she’d had the foresight to buy some makeup removal clothes and she cleaned her face thoroughly.

Her second attempt was little better, but by the third she managed something that was passable.

“Now I only look like a hooker,” she giggled. Still she expected the look would work for her plan. Now came the hard part.

She spent several more minutes staring at her image in the mirror, working up the nerve to follow through. It was not the danger that bothered her; it was walking out the door looking so obviously like a sexy girl. And there was a part of her that was reveling in the look, the feel of the material against her breasts, the way her nipples were so visible and obvious through the thin top; the way the tight pants and high heels emphasized her round ass.

“All right, girl,” she said to the image, addressing herself by that pronoun for the first time, “let’s go find someone to play with.”

She hailed a cab and once inside asked the driver “Is there a park nearby, something south of the interstate?”

“Yeah, the rec center has a park,” The man said. “That ain’t no place for a girl like you to be this time of night though Miss.”

Brandi pulled a hundred dollar bill from her purse and passed it to the driver.

“Ok honey, it’s your funeral.”

Brandi lit a cigarette and settled back for the ride. She studied every detail of the route, committing landmarks to memory in case she had to make her way back on foot. As Brandon she had always had a good memory for detail. Now she had a true photographic memory. Her brain recorded everything she saw down to the minutest detail, and she could recall it at any time like bringing up a file on a computer. It was one aspect of the change that had made things particularly difficult for her, because she could access Brandon’s memories just as clearly, even those he had long forgotten. Often all it took was something that triggered a memory from long past and she practically relived it in a flash.

The cab pulled to a stop at a small park and Brandi got out, then turned and leaned in to speak to the driver, giving him a clear look down her top. She felt a thrill run through her as his eyes seemed unable to tear away from the sight.

“There’s another hundred for you if you meet me right here in one hour,” Brandi told him. “If I don’t show within ten minutes, leave.”

“Lady you are certifiable, but I’ll be here,” The cabby said.

As she started walking, Brandi began humming a tune. It was ‘Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun’ by Cyndi Lauper, and though she had heard the song many times as Brandon, it was never a favorite. But she found she could recall any song she had ever heard, even if it was only once, as perfectly as though it was playing on a radio in her head. Before long she was singing softly.

I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you gonna live your life right,

Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones,

And girls, just wanna have fun

Oh girls just wanna have fun

She detected her playmates for the night just ten minutes after the cab dropped her off. There were six of them, and she could feel their excitement as they shadowed her at a distance. She left the sidewalk and cut into the park like she was trying to cut the corner. The shadows closed around and she knew they were moving up on her. She started singing louder.

That’s all they really want…

Some fun…

When the working day is done,

Girls, they wanna have fun,

Oh girls just wanna have fun.

“Yo baby, we got your fun right here,” A voice called from behind. Brandi whirled, a look of abject terror coming to her face. The six looked to be in their late teens and early twenties. None of them appeared to be wearing anything readily identifiable as gang colors, but she knew that many of the gangs had stopped displaying colors in recent years in order to avoid the attention of the police.

“Wh..whada you guys wa..want?” She stammered, playing the part and drawing them into her web.

“Whoa, look at the rack on this biatch,” The largest of the six said. He was at least six four, and looked like he worked out. Brandi was surrounded now and she looked wildly about for a way to escape. To the punks she seemed like a frightened girl but she knew she was the predator and they were the prey.

“Yeah cuzz,” a pimply, vole-faced youth said. “I bet she lookin’ to machine. I got what you want right here baby.”

To emphasize his words the youth grabbed hi crotch and howled. Brandi fought back the urge to laugh.

“Yeah, we can party good with this bitch,” The one that appeared to be the leader said. He looked to be the oldest and the others kept glancing at him. “You wanna play, dontcha ho?”

Brandi dropped the frightened girl act and smiled sexily as she dropped her purse to the ground.

“Well I think we’re all kinda big for the swing set,” she purred. “Did you, like, wanna do something else? I mean I was kinda scared you wanted to hurt me, but if all you wanna do is play I’m up for it.”

“It ain’t gonna hurt baby,” the older one said. “You gonna love every minute.”

“Well, ok. But if you really wanted to play you shoulda brought some more friends, ‘cause I’m, like, used to real men, not boys,” Brandi told them. “If you try real hard maybe you can satisfy me…I doubt it though.”

“I’ll show you a real man!” The big one said as he advanced towards her.

Brandi attacked, launching a lightning fast spinning back kick that drove her foot into his diaphragm. His lungs emptied in a whoosh and his feet actually left the ground, his two hundred twenty pound body knocked back several feet. He hit the ground hard and lay there, struggling to draw breath. His friends stopped, stunned.

“Well come on boys, aren’t we gonna play?” Brandi asked, her eyes dancing and her face lit by a mischievous grin.

“Get the bitch!” The leader snarled. The others produced a variety of weapons from their baggy clothing. She did not see any guns, which was good since she really did not want to get shot.

“Aww, are you guys, like, too young to be given guns?” She dug at them. “I bet all the really cool gang bangers have guns.”

Deciding to show off Brandi leapt straight up, kicking out with both legs to catch two in the face, one in front and one behind her. Then she shifted her momentum into a back flip while still in the air, landing on her feet clear of the encircling gang members.

“Look, no wires!” She giggled, waving her hands around her body for emphasis. Then she placed her hands on her hips and pouted severely.

“Like, I don’t think you guys are givin’ me your best effort,” she scolded. “You’re never gonna attract the tourist crowd if ya don’t put on a good show. Maybe I shoulda gone to Disneyland. Those seven dwarves could probably do better.”

The gang bangers regrouped, and a pair with chains rushed forward, swinging simultaneously. Brandi caught the chains, allowing them to wrap around her wrists. Then she planted her feet hard and pulled with all her strength, which was considerable, pulling the two boys off balance. As their momentum carried them towards her she jumped, her legs coming up as she released the chains, her feet catching them each under the chin, snapping their heads back. They flopped to the ground on their backs, unconscious.

“They look so cute when they’re sleepin’!” Brandi giggled as she landed. She knew she was having far too much fun with this exercise, and that point was driven home as she felt a slashing pain across her upper right arm. She turned towards her attacker just in time to catch a return slash from his knife across her right cheek.

“Owww!” She cried, her hand reflexively going to her face. The cuts were deep and blood was running down her face and arm, but already the wounds were tingling and she knew they were healing.

“How do you like that bitch?” The knife wielder snarled.

“This?” Brandi touched her face again. “It’s not even a scratch.”

Before the eyes of her formerly jubilant opponent, the wounds stopped bleeding and closed until they were just red lines. Within an hour there would be no trace they had ever been there.

“H..holy shit!” He cried, and then threw the knife to the ground and ran.

The one she had pegged as the leader and the sixth gang member came in, knives slashing. Brandi deflected or avoided each of the attacks laughing all the while. Then she very narrowly avoided a vicious slash that would have opened up her belly quite effectively, and decided that play time was over. She disarmed the two and threw them to the ground then danced lithely out of their reach.

“Well you guys have been moderately entertaining,” she smiled sweetly. “Now run along before I, like, really have to hurt you.”

She heard a roar of fury and turned in time to catch a full body tackle from the first gang banger she had put down. She hit the ground hard on her back and kicked upwards with her legs, flipping her attacker over her head and continuing the motion to bring her back to her feet, twisting around to face him.

He was definitely big; Arnie’s height though not as burly. As she turned to face him he charged again, swinging with both fists. Brandi ducked below the fists, bending her knees and lowering her center of gravity before hammering his already bruised diaphragm with a series of powerful jabs. Then she hopped back and jumped into a round house kick that smashed him across the jaw. She heard the crack of bone, and blood and teeth sprayed from his mouth. He too dropped to the ground and did not get up.

Turning back to the two remaining, conscious gang bangers, she saw that only the leader remained the other having taken her advice and run. The leader too decided that discretion was the better part of valor and scrambled to his feet, sprinting off.

“Not so fast cutie,” Brandi giggled. He was kind of cute, and she was still feeling a little frisky. She snatched up one of the chains, whirled it over her head and threw it. The chain whipped through the air and caught the fleeing youth at the knees, wrapping around his legs and bringing him to the ground.

As he rolled onto his back, Brandi skipped over to him, dropping to her knees and straddling his hips.

“You are kinda cute,” she said dreamily, then bent forward and planted a warm, wet kiss on his lips. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, probing, darting. Then she broke the kiss and straightened up.

“Time to play that game you wanted to from the start lover,” She said breathily, her hands rising to fondle her breasts. There was no mental conflict now. She had fought and won, and now she wanted her reward. She began pulling the lycra top up slowly, teasingly, as the young man struggled beneath her.

The sound of a horn broke her from the moment and she looked up to see that the cab had returned. He was early, thank God, and she hastily pulled the top back down, her mind snapping back to clarity, horrified at what she had been about to do.

“We’ll get you bitch!” The youth beneath her snarled. “We’ll come back with our homies and you’ll be sorry!”

“Yeah right,” Brandi laughed. “Like you are really gonna tell your homies you got your asses kicked by a girl. They’ll laugh you out of the club house. You guys do have a club house, right?”

Without another word, Brandi crossed his jaw with her right fist and put him out. Then she hopped to her feet, retrieved her purse and ran to the cab.

“You’re early,” she told the driver as she climbed in.

“Well I felt kinda guilty leaving you here,” He chuckled, looking out at the comatose forms of the gang members. “I guess you had the situation under control.”

“No, I really didn’t,” Brandi muttered as she lit a cigarette. “Thanks for saving me from a really bad mistake.”

CHAPTER 11

Arnie pulled the Kenworth and its loaded trailer onto the highway early the next morning and they were bound for San Francisco. Brandi was silent for most of the drive; she had a lot to think about.

For the most part her nocturnal exercise had worked. She had awakened refreshed and feeling far less pent up tension, though she had engaged in some intimate exercise before going to sleep. But she had very nearly given in to the very thing she was trying to avoid.

Maybe it was just adrenaline; I was just caught up in the heat of the moment, she thought. He was really cute after all.

Dammit stop thinking that!

Most troubling was that it had not been like before with Jeremy. Then it had been like she was watching as her body reacted against her wishes. In the park, she had known exactly what she was doing and had wanted it. Was she becoming exactly what she was so afraid she would?

“You been awful quiet this mornin’ Brandi,” Arnie said, breaking her from her introspection.

“I have a lot of issues to deal with,” Brandi sighed.

“You figured out what you’re gonna do?”

“Some,” Brandi said. “I was waiting till later to tell you, but I’ve decided that when you get back to LA with your next load I’ll be staying there. I need to start getting my life in order.”

“Yeah I kinda expected that,” Arnie said. “LA’s a good place for you. Why I bet in no time I’ll be seein’ you on a movie screen somewhere.”

“I don’t think you watch the kind of movies that would want me Arnie.”

“Now don’t you go sellin’ yourself short girl!” Arnie said his voice edged with anger. “You’re smart and you’re pretty and a girl puts them two together and look out world!”

“Arnie, I’m a dizzy blonde, you know that,” Brandi giggled.

“Now, you act all silly most of the time but I been watchin’ you,” Arnie said seriously. “You got a brain and you know how to use it.

“Thanks Arnie that means a lot,” Brandi said sincerely. “I don’t mean to act the way I do…it just sorta happens.”

“Well, ya know sometimes it’s easier to show people a mask than our real face,” Arnie said seriously.

They reached San Francisco by mid morning, and after dropping the load they drove to the electronics warehouse to pick up the trailer there. When they arrived Arnie was told there had been a delay and the load would not be ready until late the next morning. But they did have another load they needed delivered to a distributor about two hours to the east in Oakdale.

Arnie accepted the load saying, “Hey, mo money in my pocket,” and they were off to Oakdale.

After dropping that trailer, Arnie pulled into a hotel, saying they could drive back to San Francisco in the morning in plenty of time to get the LA bound trailer.

“Why don’t we go grab a few beers tonight?” Arnie suggested. “Sorta as a goodbye celebration.”

“You know I haven’t had a beer in a long time,” Brandi said. She was fairly certain she could control how intoxicated she got. The last thing she needed was to get falling down drunk. “That sounds like a great idea.”

 They found a decent little country and western bar just down the road from the hotel, close enough that they could walk. It had a live band that was pretty good, and they found a table far enough away that they could talk. When the waitress came for their orders she asked Brandi for ID, and took a long look at it before handing it back. Brandi smiled and ordered a Killian’s for herself and a Coors for Arnie, having told him already that she was buying the drinks.

They talked for a while and Arnie asked Brandi more about herself. She knew many of her answers sounded evasive, but Arnie never pressed. As the evening progressed the bar began filling up, and several times men came over and asked Brandi if she would like to dance…after making sure it was all right with the big trucker. She politely declined each time, though part of her wanted to accept. Having Arnie nearby helped her keep her desires under control, but he could not help but notice that she appeared conflicted each time.

“It ain’t none a my business but why do you dress like that Brandi?” Arnie asked eventually. “A pretty girl like you should be wearin’ pretty clothes.”

“I just…it’s really complicated Arnie,” Brandi told him. “I guess I just feel safer dressed this way.”

“Ya cain’t hide who you are darlin’,” Arnie said gently. “Hell ev’ry guy in the place is checkin’ you out an wondr’n what you’re doin’ with me.”

“What if you don’t want to be who you are?” Brandi asked. “It’s not even that really. But what if I let myself be…well, like, me…and I don’t like that person?”

“Whoa now we getting’ a bit deep for this Alabama boy,” Arnie grinned. “You can be whoever you set yo mind to be, Brandi. Yeah I’ll always be a slow talkin’ Alabama bred truck driver, but who we are ain’t just about who we were born. It’s about how we treat the folks around us.”

“Well you’re a really nice guy, Arnie,” Brandi told him sincerely. “It’s too bad there aren’t more out there like you.”

“Yeah well I wasn’t always like that,” Arnie said. “I used to be pretty much good fer nothin’. I did purty much jest what I needed to get by an nothin’ more. That’s why I joined the army. I got paid and fed and such and as long as I did what I was told I got by. I wasn’t worried ‘bout helpin’ anyone else…unless it helped me. I figgered I was a good person and didn’t cause no one problems, and I didn’t need to go outta my way for no one else.”

“So what changed?”

“Someone showed me what it really means to be a good person,” Arnie said sadly, and then sighed heavily. “Darlin’ I don’ know what yo runnin’ away from. I don’ think it’s some boyfriend that didn’t treat you right but I do think it’s got you mighty scared. But if there’s one thing I learned in Iraq it’s there comes a time when you gotta stand and you gotta fight.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” Brandi told him. “It’s just…it’s different with me. I wish I could tell you all about me. My life is just, like, really complicated.”

Arnie laughed heartily and said, “Life’s got a way ‘o gettin’ like that. You’re a good girl Brandi. You got a good heart, I can tell that even tho’ we only just met. You’ll find your way.” 

They had another round and then walked back to the hotel. Back in her room for the night Brandi thought about the future. Tomorrow she would be in LA and alone. She was beginning to believe that the harder she fought thinking and acting like a girl, the harder her programming worked to make her that way. But the programming was very limited, and she was worried that if she continued to fight, she could wind up being nothing more than a shell driven by that programming.

But if that was true, it meant the only way to stop it was to stop fighting. She was not sure she had it in her to do that. But maybe Arnie was right; it wasn’t that she had to stop fighting…she had to stop running. Maybe it was time to face the girl she was and fight to make that girl someone she could live with.

CHAPTER 12

Brandi and Arnie were on the road at five thirty the next morning, and by eight they were leaving the warehouse with the load bound for LA. Neither of them paid any mind to the black Ford Explorer trailing them at a distance, though Brandi did see the SUV in the mirror. It was one of thousands of vehicles on the interstate and was too far back for Brandi to detect anything about the occupants. An hour and a half later Arnie pulled into a truck stop off I-5 so they could get some breakfast.

“Don’t know how you stay so skinny the way you eat girl,” Arnie said with a grin as he watched Brandi wolf down a huge breakfast.

“Just good genes I guess,” Brandi told him.

After eating Brandi made a side trip to the ladies room while Arnie went out to get the truck started. Though her body was capable of metabolizing everything she ingested without producing any waste, when she had plenty of food available she still used the bathroom fairly normally.

After she was finished she spent several minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tied back with a scrunchie, the only way she knew to keep it under some kind of control. While at the lab, just days after her transformation, she had begged and pleaded and finally refused to cooperate with any testing until they had someone come in and cut her hair. She had them cut it short, but Susan had convinced her to keep the style feminine, so she had gone with a pixie cut. Brandi had been quite satisfied with the result, but when she woke up the next morning her hair was once again waist length. Her body had interpreted the cut as damage and repaired it while she slept. Brandi had spent the entire day crying.

She was used to the length now, though she did wish she knew more about maintaining and styling it. She knew that if she was to function she as a girl she needed to know such things. With a sigh, Brandi left the restroom and headed out of the restaurant to meet Arnie.

As she walked outside, the rig sped past her, heading for the access road that would take it back to the interstate, the black SUV right behind it. Brandi sensed three people in the rig; one appeared to be unconscious, and saw two more in the Explorer. Arnie’s truck was being hijacked.

The safe thing to do would have been to go back inside and notify the highway patrol of the hijacking. Brandi of course started running after the truck. It pulled onto the access road and then the ramp which would take it back to the southbound lane of I-5. The ramp curved around in a big loop before passing under the access road and then connecting to the interstate. Brandi turned, running up the access road as fast as she could, thankful for the sports bra that held her breasts tightly confined. She was no sprinter; her body was better suited to endurance running, but the truck could only travel at a slow speed and the ramp was long. She reached the overpass several seconds before the truck passed under.

As the cab came into view Brandi jumped, landing on the forward part of the trailer, going prone to keep out of sight and reduce the drag from the wind as the truck picked up speed. The view of the two men in the trailing SUV was blocked by the overpass, though several passing motorists saw her make the jump. If they called it in fine; the highway patrol would stop the rig and she would deal with the men inside before they could hurt Arnie. No one made the call.

They continued south on the interstate until the truck finally exited and headed west near Bakersfield. The westward journey continued and they eventually turned onto a poorly maintained stretch of blacktop which soon became a narrow dirt road winding upward into the mountains. Brandi wore no watch but knew it was just after noon; since her transformation she had developed an innate sense of time, almost like she had a built in clock.

They stopped at what could only be described as a ghost town. Several ramshackle buildings dotted the dusty street. They appeared to date from the late twenties, though Brandi could not be sure. At the end of the street was a large warehouse which the truck backed into. Inside there was another rig waiting, along with six men. Arnie’s truck was backed up to the waiting rig and the seal and lock was pried off. Once the doors were open a ramp was slid across between the two trailers.

The men in the truck got out, dragging the still unconscious Arnie with them. It took the two of them to move the big man, and Brandi could see from her vantage point atop the trailer that Arnie had a large bump behind his right ear.

The two from the truck were joined by the pair from the Explorer, and one of the waiting men stepped over to them. He wore a light jacket and Brandi detected the outline of a weapon beneath his left arm. There was something about him; the way he carried himself, an air of self assurance about him, that warned Brandi that he was dangerous.

“Where’s the girl that was with him?” The man demanded.

“She never came outta the diner,” one of the men said. “She was just a hitcher Chuck, he probably cut her loose.”

“Max said she was his niece you idiot!” Chuck shouted. “She’s probably already called the cops!”

Brandi’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Max, the manager of the big parts store in LA they had made delivery at. So Arnie’s truck had been targeted.

Moving to the back of the two trucks Chuck barked, “Get your asses in gear! We gotta get the load transferred and get out of here.”

“Take him into the office and tie him up,” he told the two men holding Arnie. “Then get out here and help. We’ll deal with him later.”

Brandi sized up the odds; ten to one. She had taken on six trained opponents at the lab, but none of them had been armed. She did not know how many bullets it would take to drop her, but even one to the right place could seriously slow her down. She had to even the odds and that meant doing something she really did not want to do.

With a sigh of resignation she slipped stealthily from the top of the trailer and into the cab. She retrieved her duffel bag and pulled out the clothes she had bought in LA. In a few minutes she was back in the crop top, spandex pants and high heeled boots. This time there was no fear brought on by her attire. This time she had a mission…and she would go as far as she had to.

Once dressed she closed her eyes and concentrated. She had never tried fighting while in an altered form, and did not know if she would be able to maintain the necessary concentration. Still it was the only option she had, as the four men that had hijacked the truck knew she had been left behind at the truck stop.

When she opened her eyes she gazed at her reflection in the small mirror on the wall of the sleeper. Her hair was now a deep wine red, hanging just past her shoulders. Her face was older, making her look like she was in her late twenties and her eyes were jade green. Instead of youthful innocence she had a sultry, seductive look. She kept her figure the same, not wanting to risk altering her balance.

She slipped the duffel over her shoulder and left the cab, gently closing the door so as to not alert the hijackers. Moving stealthily, she reached the entrance to the garage and then intentionally knocked over a stack of empty wooden crates. The noise drew the men from the trailers and Chuck was quickly at her side, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“P…please don’t hurt me!” Brandi cried. Her voice was now a smoky alto.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Chuck demanded.

“I…I was just lookin’ for a place to rest outta the sun,” she told him, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. “I’m tryin’ to get to LA but I got lost and I can’t find the highway. P…please I didn’t see anything…I won’t tell nobody nothin’!”

“Ya know she might be worth keepin’ around Chuck,” one of the hijackers said as he leered at her.

“Shut up Eddie!” Chuck snarled. “Take her into the office and watch her…the rest of you get back to work!”

“Please I won’t say nothin’,” Brandi told Chuck as he passed her off to Eddie. Her tears were gone and she gave him a nervous smile. “We can, ya know, like work somethin’ out honey.”

“Ya know she might be right Chuck,” one of the others chuckled.

“We’ll worry about that later. Get her in the office Eddie and if she gives you any trouble smack her.”

Eddie dragged Brandi to the office and thrust her inside. Arnie was awake, gagged and tied to a wooden chair. As he saw the two enter he stopped struggling against his bonds.

“Settle down pal!” Eddie snarled.

“You don’t gotta be so mean, Eddie honey,” Brandi purred. She turned her eyes towards a doorway leading from the office to another room in which several beds were arranged. “Like I said, I can be lotsa fun to have around. Why dontcha let me show you how much fun.”

“Yeah right, Chuck would break my neck,” Eddie chuckled, but his eyes kept darting from Brandi to the other room.

“I’m not gonna tell him if you don’t,” Brandi said as she moved close and touched his chest. It was too risky to take him down in the outer office as it had a window that placed them in full view of the men moving back and forth between the two trucks. She had to get him into the other room first. For the first time since the transformation she embraced her constant arousal, and her nipples began to harden, making them plainly visible beneath the thin lycra top.

“I been on the road awhile, and its been sooo long since I had any fun,” she pouted, allowing her hands to roam over her breasts. “I haven’t been with a guy in a really long time and, well, you’re makin’ me really hot.”

“Well I don’t know…” Eddie said, his face reddening.

“Come on lover,” Brandi sighed, pouring it on as she gently grasped his hand. “It won’t hurt a bit I promise.”

Arnie watched as Brandi led Eddie by the hand into the other room, and began struggling at his bonds again. As they passed, Brandi turned and gave him a smile and a wink. The door to the room closed and seconds later Arnie heard a muffled cry followed by the sound of wood splintering. A moment later Brandi emerged from the room alone.

“Ok maybe it hurt for just a second,” she giggled. In her hand was a pocket knife which she had found on Eddie. It looked like the type with a thumb stud for opening the blade one handed, but Brandi had seen its kind before. She pressed her thumb down on the side slab and the spring loaded blade snapped open as a hidden release was triggered.

“Arnie listen to me carefully,” Brandi said before cutting his bonds. “I know this is gonna be hard to believe but I’m Brandi. I snuck into your truck two nights ago at a rest stop south of Vegas.

“There are still nine of them out there and at least one is armed. You have to promise you will let me handle this. If you don’t promise I’ll leave you tied up and handle it anyway.”

Arnie shook his head furiously and Brandi tried again.

“Arnie I can take care of myself,” she assured him. “I know you’re a strong man and can handle yourself but I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

Something about her own words struck a chord in Brandi’s mind, and for some reason she had a brief flashback to that night in the desert northwest of Baghdad. She shook it off and returned to the job at hand.

“Arnie do you promise?”

Reluctantly Arnie nodded his agreement. Brandi cut him free, figuring if he tried to get macho she could always disable him the same way she had Susan when she escaped from the lab. She closed the knife and clipped it inside the right waistband of her pants, just behind her right hip.

“What the hell? Who are you?” Arnie demanded as she removed the gag from him.

“Shhhh,” she cautioned. “I really am Brandi. They knocked you out and hijacked your truck. Max set you up.”

Arnie’s eyes hardened and he started to rise but Brandi pushed him back down.

“Just be cool and when this is over I will tell you everything…everything about me. For now you have to trust me. I need you to put the gag back in and sit in the chair and act like you’re still tied up and out cold. If all goes well I’ll be back here in a minute with another of these goons.”

Arnie looked as though he was about to object, and then nodded his head. Brandi smiled and then rose to her feet and stepped over to the door. She grasped the neckline of her top near her left shoulder and ripped, leaving her left breast nearly exposed. Then she took a deep breath, screamed at the top of her lungs and ran into the garage.

She ran right into Chuck’s arms and began sobbing as she fell to her knees. He jerked her up roughly and shook her, demanding to know what was going on.

“H..he attacked me!” Brandi cried. “He said he wasn’t gonna be second to you…h…he was gonna get his first. I got loose and hit him with a chair.”

“Fucking moron,” Chuck muttered, turning to the others and snarling, “Tommy you come with me, the rest of you get back to work! I’ll deal with this.”

Grabbing Brandi by the arm Chuck stormed towards the office, Tommy trailing behind. Chuck shoved Brandi roughly through the office doorway ahead of him and then followed. He took a quick look at Arnie, apparently still out cold and tied to the chair, and then stomped into the other room.

Eddie lay on the floor, pieces of a broken wooden chair scattered about his inert form. Had Chuck taken a bit more time to examine the scene he might have noticed that the chair pieces were under Eddie, since it had in fact broken when he fell on it after Brandi hit him.

“Shit,” Chuck swore, returning to the outer office and turning to Tommy. “When that asshole wakes up send him out. You watch her and keep your fucking hands to yourself!”

Brandi had no intention of letting Chuck or his weapon leave the office, and was preparing to take him down when the chair Arnie was on decided it had been holding up his two hundred thirty-four pounds too long, no doubt sped to its end by his earlier struggles to free himself. With a groan and a snap one of the legs gave out and the whole chair disintegrated as it and Arnie crashed to the floor. His arms flailed about wildly as he tried to break his fall.

“He’s loose!” Tommy cried, pulling a small revolver from the pocket of his jacket. Chuck also reached for his holstered weapon.

Brandi punched out with her right hand, but Chuck was so close it ended up as more of a powerful shove, causing him to stumble back and into the wall. She then pivoted on her left foot and sent her right into Tommy’s sternum. The kick lifted him off the ground and sent him sailing through the office window, the glass was long since gone, and into the garage outside. One of the men working on the trucks saw this and called out.

This is going to be interesting, Brandi thought.

Chuck had his pistol free, an automatic, and was regaining his balance and raising it towards Brandi. She was moving to disarm him when she caught movement from either side; Arnie and Tommy both were getting up and Tommy was raising his pistol towards the trucker.

Time slowed to a crawl for Brandi as she switched gears. Her right hand reached back, pulling the knife from her waist band. As she swung it forward she pressed the right handle scale and the blade flicked open. The knife was never meant for throwing, but as she pivoted to face Tommy, her mind instantly calculated the weight, balance point and flight characteristics of the blade. Attempting to take out his arm was too risky she calculated; he could still get off a shot. This had to be a killing throw. She released the knife underhand, the blade tumbling through the air to bury itself to the hilt in Tommy’s throat. He dropped his gun and sank to the floor.

It had taken only two seconds to eliminate the threat from Tommy but that had been enough time for Chuck to draw his weapon. Even as Brandi turned back to face him he fired. The bullet struck her in the upper abdomen, just beneath her left breast. Brandi staggered back and looked down. Blood was pumping from the wound and she felt a sudden difficulty breathing, which told her the bullet had punctured her lung. Raising her eyes towards Chuck she smiled, a savage, feral smile, and then advanced again.

Wide eyed with disbelief Chuck fired again, snapping off three more shots rapidly. Brandi felt the bullets’ impact her upper abdomen and lower chest as she closed the short distance to him, but she did not stop this time. In fact, she let out an almost animal like snarl and leapt forward, grabbing his right arm by the wrist and elbow. She snapped it downward causing Chuck to howl in agony as his elbow dislocated. The gun clattered to the floor as Brandi brought her right hand up and backhanded him across the jaw and then hit him with a spinning back kick that slammed him once more against the office wall. He slid to the floor and Brandi was on him in an instant.

What happened next was almost a blur. Brandi drew her right hand back and Chuck’s eyes grew wide in horror as her nails grew from their normal half inch length to three inches. As they did so, the tips became razor sharp points. Her hand flashed forward, stopping just as the tips made contact with his throat.

For a few heartbeats Brandi stared at the frightened man. She knew she had been on the very edge of a blind rage and it frightened her. With concentrated effort she shrank the nails back to their normal length and then punched Chuck in the face, knocking him out. Leaving him there on the floor she rose and turned towards the office window.

“Brandi!” Arnie cried as he moved towards her. She spared him a quick glance and a smile forced through the pain, and then dove out through the office window and towards the remaining hijackers as they cautiously approached the office. Her body was in full combat mode now and her pain response lowered to zero. It was an automatic response, intended to allow her to fight effectively even though injured. She still felt the pain but she no longer reacted to it, so her fighting was unhindered.

Arnie watched in stunned amazement as the redheaded woman who claimed to be Brandi hit the garage floor and rolled to her feet. It was like a bizarre and violent ballet as she spun and tumbled in the midst of the seven remaining men. He was reminded of ‘The Matrix’ but without the stop action visual effects. She would leap into the air, spinning about to take down three men with one kick, then land gracefully and dodge a series of attacks from the rest. One by one their numbers dwindled, several going down with broken bones and dislocated joints. This was the real thing, and Brandi had no reservations about hurting any of these men.

When it was over, she stood with the unconscious forms of the hijackers scattered about her. She was laboring to breath, but that was more due to the punctured lung than the physical exertion. Arnie rushed from the office as she turned to face him, and was stopped cold by what he saw.

Before the trucker’s eyes her form changed and the Brandi he knew stood there, her stomach and lower chest covered in blood which still oozed from the four bullet wounds. Her pink top was now mostly red, and blood was splattered about the garage around the fight zone. She took two staggering steps forward and would have fallen if Arnie had not caught her.

“Oh sweet Jesus!” Arnie exclaimed.

“Zigged when I shoulda zagged.” Brandi quipped, and then coughed up bright red blood.

“Hang on darlin’ I’ll call for help.” Arnie said gently as he lowered her to the floor. He started to rise but Brandi held out a hand to stop him.

“Please Arnie no cops,” she pleaded. “Not yet.”

“Cops hell you need an ambulance!”

“I’ll be fine Arnie, I promise.” Brandi assured him. She was not entirely sure that was true; this was by far the most serious injury she had suffered since her transformation. Still she already seemed to be able to breathe a little easier. She could feel the tingling throughout her torso that signaled her body was healing.

“Brandi that’s a suckin’ chest wound.” Arnie said. He did not even know how she was staying conscious. “I seen those before and …”

“Yeah so have I.” Brandi interrupted. “Bullet punctured my lung. Can you find me a first aid kit?”

“Brandi we got to get you some help!” Arnie begged.

“Arnie I’m not gonna die,” Brandi soothed. “You saw…you know now. I…I’m not like you…not anymore. There are people looking for me because of it, and if you call the cops those people will find me. Please just help me patch these wounds up.”

Arnie relented and retrieved the first aid kit from his truck. Brandi removed her top and used it to clean up the blood, which had now nearly stopped flowing completely. Her pain response was back; she could only keep it suppressed for short periods of time which she assumed was a safety precaution, so tending to the wounds made her flinch repeatedly.

Inside the first aid kit was a plastic bag filled with band aids of various sizes. Brandi dumped the band aids out and then exhaled hard. She slapped the bag in place over the wound and held it tightly, and had Arnie secure it with tape on three sides.

“The open side will let the air out when I exhale,” Brandi explained. She then had Arnie cover the bag and the other wounds with gauze pads and wrap her entire abdomen with gauze. When it was done she sat there on the floor, her arms covering her exposed breasts, as Arnie retrieved her duffel bag and got a t-shirt out for her. For the first time she felt self conscious about her body, and blushed in embarrassment as Arnie helped her into the shirt.

She needed sleep, Zen sleep, but she knew this place was not safe. Arnie would have to report the hijacking, and she could not be there when the authorities arrived.

“Help me up please,” Brandi asked and Arnie practically lifted her to her feet. After a few seconds of dizziness she was steady. Brandi took her navy blue sweatshirt from the bag and slipped it on, and then sat down and slipped off the high heeled boots. She had a long walk ahead of her and was not going to do it in three inch heels.

“We need to tie these morons up,” Brandi said as she began donning her combat boots. “Then I’ll get out of here. Give me thirty minutes before you call the cops. Don’t forget about Max.”

“What do I tell the cops?” Arnie asked as he helped her to her feet again. “Good God A’mighty, there’s blood everywhere and a dead body over there!”

“The blood will be gone in less than an hour,” Brandi told him. “I don’t leave traces. You tell the cops the truth; mostly…these guys hijacked you and brought you here. Some redhead showed up and kicked their asses. Then she disappeared. Their stories should back you up. If any questions come up about the blonde you picked up, tell them I said my name was…Tiffany…and you last saw me at the diner.”

Brandi looked around the garage. There were stacks of shipping crates and boxes everywhere.

“From the looks of this place these guys have been at this a while,” she said. “The cops will be ecstatic they can wrap this up.”

“And where will I find you?” Arnie asked.

“I’m not sure you should,” Brandi said sadly. “Maybe we should just say goodbye here.”

“I ain’t goin nowhere ‘till I know for sure you’re ok,” Arnie said, his tone making it plain that he would not hear any argument.

“All right Arnie,” Brandi sighed. “There was a town about ten miles east of here called Carsonville. There’s a Holiday Inn on the east side of town. After the cops let you go stop there for the night and check in. Don’t look for me. I’ll be in the truck by seven in the morning.”

“Brandi you been shot!” Arnie protested. “I don’t know how you’re even standin’ up but you cain’t walk ten miles!”

“I can and I will,” Brandi said. “I can be a real bitch when I’m in pain Arnie and I hurt like hell right now. Please don’t make me knock you out.”

Arnie looked around at the still unconscious men and had no doubt Brandi could take him down with no trouble, even injured. He sighed and nodded his head in resignation.

They found enough rope to tie all the hijackers up. Chuck awoke as Brandi was securing him, crying out in pain as his broken elbow was jostled. Brandi punched him and sent him out again…it was the humane thing to do. Before leaving the office she gathered up the spent casings from the floor and pocketed them. If Chuck tried to tell his story about shooting her four times it would be hard enough to believe and the absence of any spent brass would only make it harder. When she was finished Arnie brought her things to her and she gave him a reassuring smile before heading out of the ghost town.

Arnie settled down to wait, giving Brandi an hour instead of the thirty minutes she asked for. It was another two hours before the first highway patrol car arrived.

*****

Vince Harris, an investigator with the California Bureau of Investigations, surveyed the scene inside the warehouse one more time before joining his partner Angela Morrow.

“So what do you think happened here?” Angela asked him.

“I don’t know Angel,” Harris said slowly. “The trucker’s story fits with what the hijackers are saying. Some mysterious woman showed up and freed him, after taking out these jerks.”

“And you believe that?”

“Arnie Belcher has a spotless record,” Harris said. “The manager of the parts store has admitted he tipped Chuck off when he overheard Belcher setting up this load. This trucker got off luckier than the others.”

“Yeah I saw the graves,” Angel remarked. Behind the garage they had found the graves of eight truckers who had not been as lucky as Arnie. The authorities had been looking for the hijacking ring for over a year. Upon finding out he was an accessory to multiple murders Max had been only too happy to cooperate, insisting he had only passed on information this one time for a promised five thousand dollars.

“The evidence against these guys is rock solid,” Harris continued. “We won’t even need the trucker’s testimony to put them away, and they’ll all go down for murder.”

“So what do we do about the girl?”

“All we have is a description with no name,” Harris said. “We’ll put out a bulletin but as far as I’m concerned she did us a big favor. I wish her well.”

*****

It took Brandi four hours to cover the ten miles back to the town. She had to stay away from the road and the rough terrain slowed her down. She needed rest to heal, and was feeling weaker than she ever had. The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains to the west as she trudged into the small town.

When she reached the hotel she considered calling up what strength she had left and altering her form, but decided it was likely they would want to see her ID. She seriously doubted she had the strength to change anyway. She got a room for one night, paying in cash, and as soon as she was inside with the door locked she collapsed on the bed and in minutes she was deep in Zen sleep.

She awoke just before four in the morning. She was ravenously hungry, so she packed quickly and slipped out of the room, dropping her key by the office. Arnie’s truck was in the parking lot and Brandi smiled when she saw it. She spotted a waffle house across the street and decided there was plenty of time for her to get something to eat before she slipped into the cab to wait for Arnie.

CHAPTER 13

“Brandi?” Arnie asked quietly as he after he closed the door of the truck. He did not really expect an answer, certain the girl had just promised to meet him here to placate his concerns.

“I’m here Arnie,” Brandi’s voice said softly from the sleeper.

Arnie smiled and put the truck in gear. Once they were out of town and headed east towards the interstate Brandi emerged from the sleeper.

“Are you ok?” Arnie asked as Brandi settled into the passenger seat.

“I’m fine see?” Brandi said, lifting her t-shirt to show him the bandages. There was not a trace of blood to be seen and as she removed the gauze there was no evidence she had ever been shot.

“I guess you have a lot of questions.” Brandi said.

“I guess I do.” Arnie said quietly. “I cain’t deny what I seen with my own eyes but dammit Brandi that stuff jest ain’t possible! God A’mighty there ain’t even any blood on them bandages!”

“Will you let me explain? At least, as best I can?”

Arnie nodded slowly.

“I wasn’t always like this. I guess you could say I’m an experiment. I won’t go into all the details, because most of it doesn’t matter and the less you know the less trouble it can get you into. I was designed, created, to be a weapon basically. And there were people that wanted me to be a tool, they wanted to use me.

“So I ran. You’ve seen some of what I can do, and I used those abilities to escape. All I want to do is find out who I am now. To find out if there is anything even remotely human left in me.”

Arnie was silent for a long time. Then he let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his thick red hair.

“Like I said, I cain’t argue with what I seen,” Arnie said at last. “And yo story makes as much sense as anything else.”

Arnie was silent for some time as he drove. When he finally looked over at Brandi he could see that she was on the verge of tears.

 “Did they do this to you ‘gainst yo will?” He asked her.

“No, not exactly,” Brandi replied. She was trying to withhold as much of the truth as possible without actually lying to her friend. “I was wounded, very badly wounded, and the procedure was supposed to make me whole again. But something went wrong. It made me whole…and a whole lot more. That’s when the…others…government types…stepped in.”

“Sounds like them ole men in black,” Arnie grumbled. “I drive through the so’west a lot. Been to Roswell a few times. I heard them stories. Prob’ly some kind’o alien stuff they found. Hell, I bet they even knew what was gonna happen all along!”

“Hell, mighta even been that stuff they found in Iraq,” Arnie mumbled.

Brandi looked at Arnie with shock. “What stuff, Arnie?”

“Stuff from some bunker in the desert, northwest o Baghdad. Buncha weird, shiny boxes,” Arnie told her. “We flew in with some lady doctor to this place a bunch’o SEALs had secured.”

“Oh my God, you were there…” Brandi whispered, her body beginning to shake. How, of all the truckers on the road, had she happened to crawl into the sleeper of this one? It was like there was someone watching over her…guiding her. Suddenly Brandi flashed to the memory of that night, the driver of the hummer stumbling as he ran for the C-130. His helmet came off and as he rose Brandon saw that he had red hair.

“But I never saw your face….”

“We got hit by a whole company of Iraqis by surprise,” Arnie continued, having missed Brandi’s words. “The hummer I was drivin’ got the engine taken out by an RPG and the gunner got fragged. We all woulda been toast, too, but that SEAL commander climbed up in there, told me to run for the plane and then he jes’ tore into them Iraqis and held ‘em off till the gunships showed up. They were jes’ comin’ in when an RPG hit the hummer square on, blew him right out the top. Nearly took both his legs off, God A’mighty he was a mess….”

Arnie’s eyes widened and he turned to stare at Brandi. “You said you was hurt bad, no, you said you was wounded… and that you weren’t always like this…”

“That’s right Arnie, until a few months ago I was a man,” Brandi said softly. “I used to be Brandon Anderson.”

She told him the rest of the story then, and Arnie listened in silence. After she finished her tale, Brandi lit a cigarette and regarded the big trucker, waiting for him to speak.

“I shoulda stayed,” the big man said at last, his voice breaking. “Mebbe I coulda got the hummer to crank. I shouldn’ta run.”

Brandi reached out and grasped one of his big hands.

“No!” She cried, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. “I saw you down there firing, Arnie. You did stay, until I ordered you to leave. You couldn’t have done anything more.”

“I was ready to die that night you know,” she told him, after a long silence. “I was not ready to live with a broken body. When I was given the chance to be healed, I knew that I would do whatever it took. I just never expected this.”

“Well, they say the Lord works in mysterious ways,” Arnie said. “I’m not much of a religious man, but I gotta believe, Brandi, that there was a reason for this. And I figger someone out there is watchin’ over you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Brandi said. “But I do thank God it was your truck I snuck into.”

CHAPTER 14

Susan took one last look around the office to make sure she had not missed anything. Of course there was very little that she was actually allowed to take. All of the research was classified.

But they could not change what she knew. She had seen wonders, and she knew that incredible, miraculous things were possible. They could force her off the project; she was not even really sorry to go, but they could not take away what she had seen. And knowing a thing was possible was the first step to making it happen.

Besides in the private sector she could make ten times what she had made on the project.

Still, she had no illusions as to why she had been fired. They wanted her out there as bait for Brandi. Susan knew that Brandi would never try to contact her, though; no matter how much either of them wanted it.

When she finally reached the house she was renting outside of Las Vegas, she broke down and began crying. It was tearing her up inside to think that Brandi was out there alone. She had only been gone two days and already it seemed like years.

After she cried herself out, she got out of the car and started walking towards her front door. As she did, a black sedan pulled up in front of the house. Susan experienced a moment bordering on panic, until the door opened and Admiral Hammerstein stepped out.

“Susan there’s not much time,” Hammerstein said seriously. “We managed to lure your shadows away but they will return shortly. I need you to come with me and hold your questions until we reach our destination.”

Susan nodded, grabbed her briefcase and got into the sedan.

“How did you lure them away?” Susan asked as the car sped off.

Hammerstein smiled, “We hired a stripper from Vegas. She had the proper, ah, dimensions and hair and at a distance could easily be mistaken for Brandi, especially when she was seen approaching your home.”

“A stripper?” Susan laughed. “I think Brandi would find that amusing. She once threatened to run away and get a job like that.”

The car took her to a small air strip where a private jet waited. Admiral Hammerstein escorted her to the plane but did not board with her.

“I wish I could tell you more Susan, but this is necessary,” The Admiral told her. “The person you are going to meet is someone that I trust implicitly. I don’t ask you to do so just on my say and she won’t expect you to either. But I do ask that you hear what she has to say and give her a chance.”

“All right Mike, I’ll do that.”

*****

“You shore you wanna do this Brandi?” Arnie asked, his face a mask of sadness. They were standing in the doorway to the hotel room Brandi would be staying in for the next few nights. “LA is a big place and, well, you could get lost real easy.”

“That’s kinda what I’m hoping for,” Brandi smiled. Arnie had picked up another load and planned on working his way back east to Alabama, then would take some time off. “I’ll be fine Arnie; you know I can take care of myself.”

“I know nobody’s gonna rough ya up or nuthin’, but I’ll still worry ‘bout you,” Arnie said. “This can be a tough town for someone all alone.”

“That’s why I’m so lucky I met you first Arnie,” Brandi told him. “You give me hope. I know for certain now that I can find people to trust. I know there are good people in the world.”

“Way I see it you gave me somthin’ a long time ago…you gave me my life,” Arnie said. “I took ever chance I could since then tryin’ ta help folks out. I ain’t done much….”

“Now who’s selling themselves short?” Brandi asked. “Keep doing what you do…touch people’s lives. And if you don’t marry that girl in Birmingham I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass…and you know I can do it!”

“I’m gonna pop the question as soon as I get back,” Arnie promised.

“First thing?” Brandi giggled.

“Well, maybe the second thing,” Arnie said blushing.

“Would it be ok if I gave you a goodbye kiss, Arnie?” Brandi asked.

“Darlin’, I would be honored.”

She gave Arnie a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he lifted her off the ground and held her for a long time. Brandi stayed outside watching until the rig was out of sight. She would miss the big trucker a lot.

Inside the hotel room she lit a cigarette and took stock of her life. Her entire worldly possessions were three pairs of black BDU pants, three white t-shirts, a pair of combat boots, her underwear and a cell phone, which she had just bought. Plus the clothes she had bought for her night out on the town the last time she was in LA, minus the torn crop top which she had discarded. The only tie to her previous life as Brandon was the box of medals, the framed Medal of Honor citation and the Annapolis class ring which she had taken to wearing around her neck on a chain. She had the cash Susan had provided plus the money in the bank, which would keep her afloat for a while, but not indefinitely. She needed to decide what she was going to do now.

She had options. The identity Ryan had constructed for her included all the background she would need to get into college. The academic records were really just a mirror of Brandon’s, which had gotten him into the Naval Academy, so they should be good enough for any college she chose to attend.

The idea of college appealed to her. Brandon had continued his education after the academy, earning a Master’s in Political Science and History along the way. But what most appealed to her about going back to college was the chance to interact with others in what was now her age group. The problem was that she could be tracked down at any time. Then she would have to run or fight, depending on the options available. Either way, making any long term plans seemed pointless for now. So it looked like she would need to find some kind of low key job.

Ultimately, her future course would be dictated by her ‘special’ abilities. They were already beginning to define who she was, and she knew that she would never be content in a normal career. A need to use her talents was part of her programming she suspected. Despite everything she had felt a rush of exhilaration during the hijacking, just as Brandon had always felt on a mission.

So the government would likely get their asset, but as she told Susan, it would be on her terms and only when she was ready.

The first task was to find a place to live. She could not continue living out of a hotel. Then she would need to expand her wardrobe and that meant clothes appropriate to her gender. She needed to learn how to be a girl.

She looked at her hand for a long time, making the nails grow and shrink. Every time they grew beyond an inch in length the tips became pointed and razor sharp again, even though she did not try to make them that way. The only explanation was that it was part of the Genomorph program, turning them into weapons. She had very nearly ripped Chuck’s throat out with them, and though killing him would have caused her little concern, doing it like that would have disturbed her. It was not just the means by which she had nearly done it, but the fact that she had been almost blind with rage. She swore she would never allow herself to lose control again.

Brandi crushed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the night stand, and then took a pen and notebook from her duffel that she had purchased at the same time she bought her cell phone. She had decided she would start keeping a diary, and knew exactly how she was going to go about it.

Dear Mom,

I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. I’m going to use this diary to keep a record of my thoughts, and it makes me feel better to do it like I am writing a letter to you. One day I hope I can show this to you.

I’ve thought a lot about you these last few days. I really do see you as my mother, and sometimes that seems a little odd. I just know that when I woke up in this body for the first time and saw you there I felt safe, protected. You looked so worried and tired and yet in your eyes I saw more…I saw love. Maybe it is part of the programming…maybe I was meant to ‘imprint’ on the first person I saw, I don’t know. But I do know that you were the only one at the lab besides Ryan who ever treated me like a person. And like the typical teenager I threw it back in your face most of the time.

I made a friend already, a truck driver named Arnie. He helped me a lot in these first days and no, there was nothing sexual involved. I’m still dealing with those desires, and am far from comfortable with the idea, but I know it won’t be long before I have to explore this aspect of being a woman. I’m sure you know that I pleasured myself often while at the lab; why else would I disrupt the cameras and microphones? I did not mind you guys knowing I was doing it — I just didn’t want you watching. Thanks for not embarrassing me by asking about it though.

So I know what an orgasm as a female is like. Let me reword that — I know what an orgasm in this female body is like. I suspect that, like everything else with this body, mine are enhanced. I’m seriously considering buying a vibrator, God knows I’ve seen enough sex shops here in LA that finding one should not be a problem.

Of course you know by now that I can alter my physical appearance to impersonate someone else. I suspect I was not as clever in hiding my experimenting with this as I had thought, since you obviously suspected at least part of my plan to escape. I have to be in contact with a person to imitate them exactly, but I can also make general alterations to my appearance as well. I have tried changing into a male form but that is not possible, I guess there just isn’t anything remotely male in me anymore except my memories. It tires me, and I can only do it for a few hours before I have to return to my true form. Mimicking a person is actually a bit easier than just altering my appearance as I don’t seem to have to concentrate as hard to hold the form.

I’m ready for the next step, to start dressing like a girl. Hell, even when I don’t, I can’t hide this body. And yes, that means makeup too. And yes, I am really starting to regret turning you down all those times you offered to help me. I just wasn’t ready then. I’m not sure I am even now, but I can’t keep running from who I have become.

I’m scared. I know I will need help, so I will try to find friends, people I can come to trust, and that brings me to a decision I have made.

I know that I agreed to maintain the security of the project, but I believe that agreement is void now. What happened to me is far beyond what was supposed to happen, and there will be things about me that will cause questions to arise that I will have a hard time answering. So I am reserving the right to let those I come to trust know about me, if not the full story than at least enough to answer those questions when the need arises. They will need to know so they understand everything, including the possibility that associating with me could place them at risk.

That is my biggest fear. I don’t trust that toad Mercer or the people he represents. I’m not saying I don’t trust the government or the military in general, just a segment of it. I think these people are operating way beyond their mandate. I don’t know what I can do about it though. But I know they won’t hesitate to hurt anyone close to me in order to get at me. Please be careful. If anything happened to you, I don’t think I could take it.

There’s one other thing I want to tell you about. It may sound a little weird, but I want you to know about it.

I was thinking back to my life as Brandon, and I thought about the first man under my command that I lost. He was a young seaman named Aaron Peck, and he died in a firefight on one of those secret ops that were our stock and trade. And when I thought about him, this flood of emotions came to the surface and I cried.

The thing is that what I felt inside was the same as what I felt inside as Brandon. The pain, the grief, the loss…it was all the same. But when I was Brandon, I just did not have the capacity to let it out. No, we had a beer call after the mission and got drunk and talked about what a great guy he was. I went to his wife and told her that he had been killed in a ‘training accident’ and played the strong commander for her as she cried, even as I wanted to weep myself. I saw his two beautiful little girls and I wanted to tell them that their father died a hero, doing something that was important. I wanted to hold them and cry with them too, but I didn’t because I was a man.

So I cried for Aaron and for all the others…thank God there weren’t that many. I felt the same pain and loss but at last I could release some of it. It was refreshing and freeing in a way. I would have never expected to be saying this just a few months ago, but I think I’m going to like being a girl.

CHAPTER 15

The estate was huge, nestled in the rolling hills of Virginia. It spoke of power and wealth, both old. Yet Susan was surprised that the inside was very much like a home rather than a museum as so many such estates tended to be.

She was escorted to the parlor, and a few minutes later a very distinguished looking elderly woman entered. Susan recognized Amanda Breton immediately. She was a very wealthy and powerful woman, yet she used her influence and power to support a myriad of humanitarian causes, and had a reputation for being generous and gracious, and at the same time definitely not one to be trifled with.

“Doctor Covington, I am so glad you accepted my invitation, I’m Amanda Breton,” She said as she extended her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Breton,” Susan said as she took the offered. “I am here because of Admiral Hammerstein, however.”

“I do apologize for the secrecy, and please call me Amanda,” Mrs. Breton said as she took a seat. “Would you care for some refreshments? I can have Gretchen prepare a tray.”

“That would be very welcome, Amanda, and please call me Susan.”

Amanda turned to the young blonde woman standing just outside the doorway to the parlor and nodded, then directed her attention back to Susan.

“Well, I am certain you are wondering what this is all about,” Amanda began. “First, let me say that I do not expect you to trust me immediately, though I hope I will come to earn your trust. And I want you to know that this estate is completely secure and you may speak freely.

“I have been following your work closely and have been very impressed. And yes, I know all about Brandi. Suffice it to say for the time being that I have certain connections. I am very glad that you are no longer associated with the people controlling the project, even though I realize that your release was affected to further their own ends. That is why we had to bring you here with such secrecy.

“You have now effectively dropped off the radar. I imagine they are becoming a bit concerned over your disappearance. Of course, you are free to leave at any time, but as long as you remain here I can keep you out of their sights.”

“I don’t really understand…” Susan said.

“The device that was recovered from the desert was only the latest. These artifacts have been collected over many years and for the most part simply warehoused under the control of a very secretive agency…it doesn’t even have an official name. Your acquaintance, Mr. Mercer, works for this organization. Their operatives have given rise to the stories of ‘Men in Black’.

“This agency has had free reign for too long. They exploit the technology that has been discovered to cement their power base, when it should be studied and used for the betterment of the world. And that is why I have brought you here. I intend to put an end to this. It’s time to bring the ‘Men in Black’ down…and I will need your help, and Brandi’s, to do it.”

“I’m not sure how we could help,” Susan said cautiously.

“Nor am I,” Amanda admitted. “But first and foremost, Brandi must learn who and what she is, and I am prepared to make whatever resources are needed available to her. To that end I have set up a secure fund that will provide her with money to live as she comes to grips with her situation and for that matter as long as she lives. I am also prepared to provide fifty thousand dollars for immediate transfer to her control so she will have money available until the first fund payments are made.”

Susan considered the offer carefully. The money she had provided Brandi would give her a start, but she did not have the means to support her completely, and any attempt to provide more money on her part was very risky at any rate.

She made a decision. Admiral Hammerstein trusted this woman, and everything she knew about Amanda Breton told her she was a woman of integrity. And if they could do it, if they could bring down the organization, then Brandi would have a chance at a semblance of normality in her life. It was worth taking a chance.

“I can get in contact with Brandi,” Susan stated. “Though I was not a part of her escape directly, I did expect it and took steps to help her after the fact. She has a secure identity and a bank account that the funds could be directed to.”

“I suspected as much,” Amanda smiled. “I don’t want to know the details. I will provide you with the information so you can see that the money gets to Brandi.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but why?” Susan asked. “I agree that the organization needs to be dealt with, and Brandi could be instrumental in that, but I get the feeling that there is something more personal involved here.”

“You’re quite right,” Amanda smiled warmly. “Twelve years ago I was in Africa doing relief work when violence erupted in the Congo. Because of who I am, a team of Navy SEALs were sent in to extract me from the hospital I was working in.”

“Brandon saved your life.”

“He did far more than that,” Amanda continued. “There were twenty-three patients in the hospital. Brandon defied a direct order and loaded those patients and myself onto the helicopters. And I don’t want you to get the impression that I had anything to do with it. I was terrified by the sounds of the approaching forces, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I would have boarded that helicopter and left those people to their fate. His commander told him to leave the patients. He said the country was going to ‘hell in a hand basket’ and that they couldn’t save the whole damn country. I will never forget what Brandon said.

“He told his commander, ‘Maybe not sir, but I can save the piece of it that’s here.’”

“It took two trips to get them all out, and he and his men held the position until the last were gone, and then remained until the helicopters returned a third time to pick them up.

“Brandon was threatened with court martial, until some not so subtle pressure was applied in the right places. So you see this is not the first time I have used my influence to aid Brandi. She taught me the true meaning of words like honor, courage and sacrifice that day, and I will be damned before I let them get their claws in her.”

*****

Brandi stared at the email in disbelief for a long time. What Susan was telling her was too good to be true. She had stopped at an internet café so she could check the account in case Susan had tried to reach her, and had been overjoyed when she saw there was a message.

She logged into her bank account to check the balance and saw that she now had nearly sixty thousand dollars available. Now she could buy a laptop of her own, and she would be able to make regular contact with Susan. She began crying tears of pure joy.

“Are you ok honey?” A voice asked. Brandi turned to see the waitress standing there with a concerned look on her face.

“I’m great!” Brandi smiled, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “I just got some really wonderful news and it kind of overwhelmed me.”

“Well I’m glad they’re happy tears,” The waitress smiled. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Brandi said. “I’m good. Really, really good.”

*****

“What is the status on the search?” The Man asked Reginald Mercer.

“We have agents watching all of Brandon’s haunts and his friends in the Gainesville area,” Mercer reported. “He tended to be a loner. We also have a team stationed in his hometown in the panhandle.

“Additionally we have teams shadowing his former Navy buddies, including Admiral Hammerstein. We are monitoring law enforcement for any reports of incidents which may be connected to the missing Genomorph.”

“And yet our most promising bait, Doctor Covington, has mysteriously disappeared,” The Man said.

“Yes sir,” Mercer replied nervously, well aware that it had been his recommendation to release Susan Covington so they could watch her in case Brandi tried to make contact. “She must have had help sir.”

“Undoubtedly. So we can assume that Dr. Covington is in hiding under the protection of an unknown agency, and likely working with the Genomorph to undermine this organization.”

“That is a plausible scenario sir,” Mercer admitted.

“Not a very satisfactory one.”

“No sir. She has only been gone two days, we’ll get her sir.”

“See that you do. That will be all Mr. Mercer.”

Mercer turned to leave the office, a sense of relief washing over him.

“Oh Mercer?” The Man called just as he was about to exit.

“Yes sir?”

“I’m sure I do not have to remind you that this is a high priority matter. We went through a great deal of trouble to set this up once Brandon Anderson had been identified as a perfect candidate for the transformation. A pity that the program modifications we inserted failed to take effect; otherwise she would have been perfectly obedient.

“However that is water under the bridge. Those individuals responsible have learned that there are repercussions for failure. If the Genomorph is not back under our control soon…there will be further repercussions. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

Mercer returned to his own office, sweating profusely, and had to take a moment to recover his composure. He knew he was in a precarious position, but he was not certain how to proceed.

“How the hell do you find someone who can look like anyone they want to?” he wondered aloud.

Covington was the answer. If they could find her, they could use her to lure in the Genomorph. Mercer snatched up his desk phone.

“This is a Stage One alert. All teams are to drop whatever they are doing and concentrate on locating the Genomorph.” He said. “Special effort is to be directed to locating and apprehending Dr. Susan Covington."

End of Part 2

Notes:

I would like to thank everyone for the wonderful and constructive comments I received regarding Part 1.

Feedback is so important, so please let me know what you think of Brandi’s continuing story.

Look for Genomorph Part 3 soon!