Brose at The Center

by Jennifer Sue

Part 2

By all accounts Brendan Quinn and Ailisa Doyle were top students in school. They were also vocally anti-big government and to the school's woe, anti-authoritarian. They were not pranksters and respected property, but never let themselves be swept up in school spirit events. They went to class, did their work, got good grades, and condemned liberalism and authority at every opportunity. While they never engaged in open rebellion, their words often fueled those who had little respect for anything. They were often cited for instigating events but always kept their noses clean. Neither had a social life outside their family and were quite content to keep things like that way. While they talked with their classmates, they never hung out them.

To The Center, once the histories were reviewed, it seemed quite possible Brendan and Ailisa were pre-emerged. Now secluded in their fortress homestead, things could get quite messy if they were to emerge.

The SOS squad was dispatched to get the teens out. If they could defuse the standoff, it would be even better. After the squad was briefed, they boarded a plane. By the time they arrived on site, the Marshal in charge had been briefed that an eight person team from DHS would be arriving. It rankled him that he’d been ordered to give them free rein to do as they saw fit and to offer them any assistance they requested. He was also told to keep their presence a secret and to make sure his team did so too. Needless to say, he was not a happy man, even less happy when he met Brose.

"Hell, you and most of your team are just kids," Marshal Davis declared. "You're telling me I'm supposed to give you whatever assistance you want and let you do whatever you want?"

"No sir," Brose replied with a steely eyed gaze. "Your superiors in Washington told you to cooperate with us so we can do our job."

Marshal Davis looked the heavily armed group over. All wore camouflage fatigues and combat boots. Brose had stripes of a US Army staff sargent and was obviously in command of the unit. Of the three who appeared to be regular military two had three stripes of a sergeant and the other had one stripe. The four other teens had no rank insignia. While the teens looked young, they also looked tough. His eyes came back to Brose. The kevlar vest she wore was obviously made to her specifications. The .50 cal Desert Eagle holstered at her waist looked menacing. The M26 shotgun strapped to her back looked equally formidable. But it was the .50 cal M107 sniper rifle slung casually over her shoulder that made him uncomfortable. By her demeanor he began to suspect this young woman knew how to use those weapons. The rest of the squad was also heavily armed. The unofficial interagency rumors he'd heard about the terrorist attack in New Jersey came back to him. There had been a young woman with a Desert Eagle who had been deadly accurate with the .50 caliber monster handgun. That operation had been under the DHS. But this girl looked way too young. Could this be her? "How old are you?"

"Sir, my age and that of my team has nothing to do with our orders or yours," Brose replied. "We have a job to do and we are going to do it, with or without your cooperation. However, I strongly suggest if you choose not to cooperate, you should start looking for another line of work."

Marshal Davis grew red as he scanned the immobile faces of the squad. "I'll need your requests for support in writing. I'm not going to have my ass burned by a bunch of kids."

Brose reached into the small briefcase she was carrying. "Here's what we need," she said as she handed him the papers with the DHS letterhead and signed by the director himself. "We already have all the surveillance photos we need as well as copies of all the reports on this situation. I assume you have the construction trailer with power, water and bathroom set up at the site we selected. Once we take possession of it, no one but this team will be allowed inside. We'll need an armed guard outside 24/7 to insure security."

"They're having a bit of trouble getting water to the trailer but otherwise it's ready," Marshal Davis grumbled. "I'll see that guards are immediately posted."

"Good," Brose said. "One other thing, under no circumstances is anyone authorised inside the area we have delineated on the maps. If you have anyone inside that area now, they should be promptly withdrawn. We will be scouting the area as soon as we're set up and will treat anyone we meet as hostiles."

Marshal Davis looked Brose over once more. What they were going to do scared him. He didn't want to be remembered as the man in charge of another Ruby Ridge or Waco. "I'll have my men withdraw now. Can you tell me what you're going to do?"

"That is classified," Brose responded as she handed him a slip of paper. "Keep someone here tuned to this frequency. Any communication we need with you will come through on that channel. Do not attempt to contact us as we'll be operating under strict radio silence. If you hear gunfire, ignore it. The FAA already has orders to keep all aircraft at least five miles away. That includes your surveillance choppers. Have a team prepared to move in at any time but only on our orders. They'll be able to drive directly down the access road to the homestead."

Marshal Davis nodded his head. Damn bureaucracy. It really irked him that these kids were sent in to take over a tinderbox like situation. But he was close to retiring at full pension so bit his tongue. The paperwork Brose had given him left no doubts she was legitimate. A chill ran down his spine as he realized he never wanted to face this group.

Brose hated being so curt and demanding. It went against the good manners that her aunt and uncle had demanded. Still, she understood to get the support of other agencies, she had to appear to be a tough, demanding confident bitch. Her team understood that as well.

Fifteen minutes later their two Hummers pulled up by the trailer. After showing their IDs, they parked beside the trailer. As Brose stepped inside the others began to unload their gear. As Sgt. High set up his computers and communications gear inside, Sgt. McNeil and Pfc. Loose began assembling an antenna array. Half an hour after arriving, everything was set up. Stepping outside, they told spoke to the two men posted as their guards.

It was clear the men didn't think too much of this kiddie unit even though they did pack some heavy firepower.

Brose once more went into bitch mode to deal with the guards. "Make sure you pass it on to your replacements," Brose told them as she handed them a bag. "We've wired the windows, doors and equipment with enough C4 to leave a crater if it goes off. No one but this squad gets withing ten yards of the trailer. Is that clear?"

A quick look inside the bag revealed wrappings from C4 explosive. The guards blanched and nodded their understanding.

Brose led the team into the forest. Signs were posted on the trees stating they were trespassing on private property and would be shot on sight. Traveling through the forest they closed in on the stronghold until Brose could feel the anxiety of the Quinn family. Then they spread out in line ten meters apart with Brose closest to the homestead to begin a sweep of the area around the homestead. They discovered several booby traps which McNeil disarmed. It took them two hours to make the circle and clear all the IEDs. Then they moved in closer, right to the tree line but carefully staying out of sight. That didn’t stop the guard dogs from sensing them and barking up a storm. Then in line 5 yards apart they conducted a second sweep. This time Brose followed Shadow so she could keep her concentration on the Quinns. There were several IEDs in little gullies and such that could be used to approach the compound. These were safely disarmed. The quads realized this was no game when Sgt. McNeil removed dozens of claymore mines wired into trees to shred anyone taking shelter behind fallen trees and gullies. They split into four teams, each with a quad. then spread equidistant around the compound keeping in the trees but able to see the compound from the all directions. They made themselves comfortable to watch.

It was evident from the aerial photos the place had been fortified, but seeing it up close only reinforced the seriousness and desperation of the situation. The two feet thick stone walls of the house had been reinforced with a double row of vertical logs held in place by a log wall five feet high. The windows had been reduced to firing slits. Another five feet high log wall had been erected about five feet out from the first log wall, the area between them filled with dirt and rocks. There was a four feet wide open area in front to the second log wall ending against a third five feet high log wall. The open area between the second and third log walls formed an excellent trench work defense. A ten feet wide glacis had been constructed against the outside of the third log wall. Stones had been sunk into the glacis where it met the log wall to form a crenelated top perfect for sniping. The approaches to the front and rear door were no longer straight but zig-zagged through the log and earth barrier walls. It was a formidable bunker. Added to that were five guard dogs chained to earthen log shelters spread around the yard.

As evening fell, Brose called an alert. She could sense increasing anxiety inside the home and movement. Once it was dark, Brose pinpointed a mound near the tree line to warn that someone was coming out of a tunnel. Everyone but Brose and Snow ducked behind a tree or rock. Snow projected a cooling shadow to mask their infrared body signature. A shadowy figure partially emerged from the tunnel and with a night vision monocular scanned the trees. In moments she pinpointed another location on the opposite side where the same thing was occurring. After a few moments, three armed people emerged from the house. Cautiously they made the rounds of the dogs, replenishing the food and water of the chained watch dogs.

When the dogs had been fed, the people returned to the house. A few minutes later, Brose sensed people moving underground. She hurriedly had the quads spread the word. There was a tunnel into the forest. The surveillance teams hunkered down. Three men emerged from the tunnel and made their way into the forest. Brose spread the word for everyone to hold position as she tailed them.

With her talent, Brose did not have to keep the trio in sight. She was able to silently follow them. They traveled a quarter mile to a barren nightmarish landscape made of the detritus of strip mining. Brose closed in as they made their way to a vine covered bank by the edge of the denuded area. Then as she watched, they disappeared into the bank. Soon she could sense them moving under the waste detritus. Another tunnel! Brose knew the US Marshals had manned watch posts covering the barren wasteland but they were far apart and most likely sloppily manned.

Brose made her way to the tunnel and waited until the men were well away, then fumbled through the vines to find the entrance. Soon she was following the men through the well made and reinforced tunnel. When she felt them stop, she stopped. Soon they were on their way again, but now out of the tunnel. Brose followed and soon emerged from a similar shielded entrance on the other side of the barren area, outside the perimeter established by the Marshals.

Soon Brose sensed the men meet up with two men on a back road almost two miles from the homestead. Silently closing in, Brose watched as the men unloaded supplies from a pick-up truck into backpacks and rucksacks. Brose moved to about twenty yards in front of the truck and waited until the three men headed back to the homestead. The two men waited until the three men disappeared into the forest, then climbed into their truck to leave. Even before the driver could start the engine, the barrel of the Desert Eagle was pointed at his head.

"If you want to live, freeze," Brose hissed.

The surprised men jumped and turned to look at the monestrous silencer equipped gun.

"This is a .50 caliber Desert Eagle. I can take you both out with one shot," Brose snarled. "I'd really like to not have to do that as it would splatter your brains all over my gun. Slowly drop the keys on the floor and place your hands on the dash."

The keys rattled to the floor as both terrified men complied. The passenger began whimpering as he wet himself. Brose stepped back opening the drivers door while keeping the Desert Eagle aimed at the men.

"Good boys," Brose chuckled in a heartless manner. "In case you get any funny ideas, I'm an expert marksman with this baby, even one handed. It's a semi automatic so it will fire as fast as I can aim and pull the trigger. Driver, slowly exit and stand looking at me, then take one pace sideways towards the back of the truck."

The driver nodded and did as he was told.

"Mr. Pissed Your Pants, you slide out the drivers door," Brose ordered.

The passenger hurriedly got out of the truck.

"Now I want both of you to unbuckle your pants and drop them around your ankles," Brose ordered.

The driver hesitated until Brose fired a slug into the back of the cab. Even with the silencer, the shot echoed. The impact, coupled with the huge hole in the metal, took away any thought of resistance. In seconds both were down to their skivvies.

Brose keyed her comm link. "This is Sargent Shamrock. I've secured two prisoners on the access lane at coordinates latitude,40.811698,longitude -76.379142. Get people down here to pick them up ASAP but keep it low key. We don't want anyone to know we have them. They are to be transferred to the Federal Prison in Lewisburg and held incognito under the authority of DHS for aiding and abetting terrorists. They have no rights and are not to be questioned other than for identification purposes. Their vehicle is to be impounded pending confiscation. You've got a half hour to get a team here or they'll be killed while trying to escape. I'm waiting. Do you copy?"

Brose stared into the terrified eyes of the two men as she spoke. Once she received an acknowledgment she pulled the M26 shotgun from her vest and holstered the Desert Eagle.

"Who the hell are you," the driver asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm either your best friend or your worst nightmare," Brose smiled evilly as she removed the silencer. “Obviously I’m not your best friend.”

The silence was nerve wracking for the men as they waited. They had little doubt their captor would hesitate to kill them while escaping. They never thought they’d be wishing for US Marshals to take them into custody.

Twenty seven minutes later a vehicle could be heard coming down the access lane. Two minutes later a black SUV pulled up in front of the truck and four Deputy US Marshals scrambled out with guns drawn. Their headlights illuminated the truck, the two men, and Brose. The men were shocked when they realized they'd been taken by a teenage girl.

"You made it with one minute to spare," Brose informed the deputies. "Take them directly to Lewisburg. My people will be there waiting for them."

"Who the hell are you," the deputy in charge asked. He wasn't accustomed to taking orders from females, especially one so young.

"I'm the one who can get your ass shit canned and locked up for insubordination," Brose snarled. "I want you to get search warrants for their homes and jobs. I want a coordinated raid at all the sites at dawn. If you have any questions, forget them."

"Why you cocky little bitch..." the deputy snapped back only to abruptly shut up when the barrel of the Desert Eagle was jammed into his mouth.

"I've been here less than eight hours," Brose hissed at the terrified wild eyed man. "You've been here three f-ing weeks. These asswipes have been supplying the people you were supposed to be keeping inside their compound. I followed three of them here right past your guards. Now, think carefully. Are you going to do what the F I tell you or do I splatter your brains all over these trees?"

Brose pulled the Desert Eagle out of his mouth as soon as the deputy nodded. "Take your complaints to Marshal Davis. He already hates my guts. This will just give him more reason to do so. These men are yours. Do your jobs." Before they could react, Brose turned and sprinted off into the forest.

One of the other deputies asked. "What the hell was that?"

"Fucking Department of Homeland Security," the chief deputy answered as he struggled to get his trembling under control. "I could taste the fucking gunpowder!"

The driver pointed to the huge hole in the side of the cab. "She wanted to make sure we cooperated," he said. "Please, get us the hell out of here!"

Brose headed back to the tunnel, slipped inside and jogged through to the other side. Emerging, she returned to her team. After catching up on the happenings, she had Sgt. McNeil shielded by Snow rig demolition charges at the OP tunnels and the supply route tunnel into the forest. Naturally, the dogs barked but those inside the house could see nothing.

Brose then withdrew the team. Back at the trailer they reviewed what they had done, then used a satellite link to file a report with Ms Fine. It was just after 2:00am when the team snugged into their sleeping bags to get some rest.

After a late breakfast, the team headed straight down the lane to the Quinn homestead. Near the homestead clearing Brose had the team do a quick sweep through the forest to see if the there were any new IEDs. Finding none, she spread the team to cover all sides. Then she slowly walked down the lane into the clearing around the house.

The dogs began barking and in seconds a three rifle barrels were pointed at her from inside the fortified home. Brose stopped and waited.

After ten minutes of nerve wracking silence a voice called from inside the cabin. "Who are you?"

"I'm staff sergeant Brose Shamrock, on assignment from the US Army to the Department of Homeland Security. We took over this operation late yesterday afternoon. Your dogs have been barking at my team as we scouted your position. You've been labeled domestic terrorists and it's our job to take you down. I'd prefer to end this peacefully, but we are prepared to fight. Believe me, we are deadly. I'm asking you to stand down and come out peacefully."

"We haven't done anything wrong," a voice replied. "And we sure as hell ain't none of them freakin' terrorists. This is our land and you're trespassing. Get off our land before we open fire."

"If you don't surrender we will take you out," Brose calmly stated. "We saw your tunnels last night. We also followed you on your supply run. Your two suppliers are locked up in the Federal prison in Lewisburg. Their homes and businesses were raided this morning. As of now you're stuck in your home. I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Brose turned and walked back to the tree line and disappeared. Ten seconds later there were three large simultaneous explosions as the charges at the tunnel entrances exploded.

After the allotted time Brose stepped back into the clearing. "Are you ready to come out?"

"Go to hell, bitch," an older woman's voice called out.

"I've already been there and back," Brose called back. "Like I said, I don't want to see anyone hurt. Please come out."

A rifle barrel poked out a window and swung towards Brose. Brose pulled her Desert Eagle, aimed and fired in less than two seconds. Even though the barrel was aiming at her, the tip of the rifle barrel jerked and mushroomed. Her larger slug hit the barrel dead on and plugged the now distorted tip. The rifle was quickly pulled back inside.

"You don't stand a chance," Brose called out. "Please surrender."

"We'll never surrender," the woman's voice replied but the arrogance of her earlier retort was gone, replaced by growing desperation. "We're not terrorists, we're just defending our home. We just want to be left alone."

"I can appreciate that," Brose answered. "But I have my orders. We'll give you until sundown to think it over, then we'll be coming in."

Brose returned to the trees. She spread the word for the team to make themselves comfortable and take turns napping as they would be staying the night.

As the day progressed, Brose could sense someone crawling inside the tunnels they'd imploded apparently to access the damage. Brose could feel the person's anger each time he reached the rubble, then turned back.

At dusk, the door opened and the youngest children cautiously emerged to feed the dogs. "Take care of the dogs," Brose called out. "But do nothing else."

While the kids were out feeding the dogs, Brose sensed the person who had explored the three imploded tunnels was heading down a tunnel they didn't know about. Brose alerted the team then sprinted off to the intercept the explorer. Snow, who was Brose’s quad, followed as fast as she could.

Brose reached the tunnel area and was soon quietly walking above the tunnel as the man inside slowly made his way through it. As she walked above him, Brose was slowly raising the CO2 level in the tunnel. Almost immediately she could feel the edge of his wariness dull. Brose felt his anxiety swell when he stopped about thirty feet into the trees. The man was panting and scared. They were at the exit. Brose could feel the man becoming disoriented. When he tried to climb up the ladder, he slipped off a rung and fell back to the floor. Brose flooded the area around him with CO2. As he struggled to his feet the world began to grow dark.

Brose waited until she couldn't feel the man any longer, then she pulled the CO2 and inserted fresh air. By that time Snow had joined her. It only took a few moments until they discovered the concealed entrance. Climbing down they found the man slumped against the wall. Brose used a set of zip cuffs to secure his hands and another set to secure his ankles. Then they gagged him. Brose squatted down and had Snow help her maneuver the unconscious man over her shoulder. Once she had him in place, she stood. Snow was awed by Brose's strength. Snow climbed out of the tunnel and Brose followed. Snow helped maneuver the man through the tight opening until Brose was out far enough to lie him down. Together they tied him sitting upright to a tree.

Brose sent Snow to swap places with Shadow, then let the others know she and Shadow were going into the tunnel and into the house. Shadow projected a shield of darkness about five feet in front of them as they made their way to the house. As they got closer, Brose could feel the anxiety of someone watching the tunnel. Brose stopped about twenty feet from the house and whispered orders to Shadow. Blaze and Snow linked their talent power with Sunny who for thirty seconds lit up the open area around the house so brightly it washed out all color and sight. Anyone looking outside was temporarily blinded.

The dogs all howled and ran for the shelter of their dugouts. Those inside the house were stunned and frightened. Several had been blinded. In the chaos, Brose threw a skunk stink bomb into the basement. The man guarding the tunnel immediately gasped and began choking. Brose rushed into the basement and subdued the man before he knew what hit him. Brose zipp cuffed and gagged him.

By the time she had completed tying him up, the skunk stench seeped into the upper house adding to the confusion and pandemonium. Brose tossed skunk bombs into the first and second floors. Gagging and retching were clearly audible. Brose cleared the stench from the basement and called Shadow in from the tunnel. In moments, the rest of the team was waiting outside the front door. Brose charged up the steps into the stink and pulled everyone to the front door. After opening the door, she shoved them outside to be taken prisoner by the rest of her team. Brose placed locators on Brendan and Ailisa, then as she was herding the family out the front door, she ‘tripped’ over the edge of a rug. Brendan and Ailisa took advantage of the misstep and slipped into the kitchen at the rear of the house. After checking that no one was outside, they fled out the back door.

The conflict was over. Brose flushed the fortress home with fresh air. After clearing the front room of weapons, the extended family was placed inside. All were cuffed. The man from the basement and the man outside were brought in.

"I'm glad no one was injured," Brose stated once they were all settled down. "Now we have a dilemma. Just looking around you have quite a stash of illegal weapons. We can destroy them here and now. Without the evidence you won't face Federal charges. You'll still be liable for the running an illegal mine and threatening officials. However, since no one was hurt, with a good lawyer you should make out okay. We'll see to it you get a good lawyer."

"That doesn't make any sense," Maive stated. "Why would you help us after taking us down?"

"Believe it or not we sympathize with your plight," Brose replied. "Just because we were assigned here to get you out doesn't mean we have to like doing it.

Patrick looked around at his family counting heads. "Hey, where are Brendan and Ailisa?"

Everyone looked around and it became obvious the pair was missing.

"Shadow, Pvt Loose, search the house," Brose ordered. "Sgt High, guard the prisoners. Sgt. McNeil, take Blaze, Sunny and Snow and gather all the illegal weapons and ammunition. Place them in the crater of one of the bombed tunnel entrances. Sunny, you help Blaze destroy them, Snow, you'll have fire duty to make sure the fire doesn't spread. I'll search out back in case Brendan and Alisa escaped through the back door."

Everyone set about their tasks. Brose checked her souped up I-phone and located the missing teens scrambling through the forest towards the road a mile to the north. Brose shouldered her gear and took off at a dead run.

Even though the teens had a fifteen minute head start, they had to stop running after five. They walked as fast as they could. They were terrified, confused by what happened, worried about their family, and wondering how they managed to escape after that girl snagged them in the kitchen. They were also concerned about pursuit but so far saw and heard none.

"Have a nice stroll?"

Ailisa screamed. Brendan assumed a defensive stance. The girl that fumbled their capture, the one who was the spokesman for those who attacked the house was sitting calmly on a fallen tree about twenty feet in front of them.

“You were in the house when we escaped," Brendan exclaimed. "How the hell did you get in front of us? How did you know where were heading?"

"Try to relax. I'm not going to harm you," Brose smiled. "First of all, you didn't escape, I let you go. I needed you separated from your family. Besides, I can run a mile in four minutes and get within a few minutes of beating the world record for the marathon."

Ailisa regained her voice. "Are you going to kill us... no you said you wouldn't harm us... are you going to kill our family?"

"Unless somebody does something really stupid, no one will get hurt," Brose stated. "I can see you're winded. Come sit beside me and we can talk. You can have some of my water." Brose took a swig from her bottle to show them it was safe then held it out to them.

Brendan moved first. "Come on, Ailisa, she's got us. She's not even breathing heavy and we're exhausted. Let's at least listen to her."

In moments they were seated beside Brose drinking from the water bottle.

"Your family will be removed from their farm and the buildings destroyed," Brose began. "I've already taken steps to make sure the illegal weapons they had are destroyed without a trace so the federal charges will be dropped. They will be given enough money to relocate to another place nearby or further away. You'll be listed as missing. You'll be going back to our base with my team for some tests. If the tests confirm what we suspect, you'll stay with us. If not, you'll be returned to your family. Unfortunately, if the tests confirm what we think, you'll never be able to see your family again."

Ailisa was quite upset. "Why not?"

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you," Brose answered. "If you test positive, we'll explain everything. My team was sent here for one main purpose, and that was to get you. Ending the standoff peacefully was a big bonus."

"That's the pistol you used to shoot Uncle Darby's rifle," Brendan stated as he tried to absorb what was going on. "You made a lucky shot, hit it smack dab in the center of the barrel."

"That wasn't luck," Brose explained as she looked around for a target. "You see that squirrel on that tree branch about fifty meters away?"

Both looked where she pointed and after a bit of looking, found the squirrel.

"No way you can hit it from here," Brendan declared.

"I could but I won't," Brose replied. "I don't like killing. I'll just shoot off the branch he's sitting on." With that she pulled out the Desert Eagle and retrieved the silencer from her vest.

The eyes of both onlookers grew big as the saw the size of the gun.

"This is a .50 caliber Desert Eagle," Brose said as she attached the silencer. "Watch the squirrel." Brose raised the gun and fired in one fluid motion.

Almost instantly the tree limb exploded about three feet behind the squirrel. The squirrel was so startled he rode the branch to the ground before scampering away.

"Holy shit," Brendan exclaimed. "You didn't even aim!"

"Yes I did," Brose calmly said. "I'm that quick and that good. If we had wanted, my team could have sniped off your entire family."

"The rumors said one person with a .50 caliber Desert Eagle killed over half the terrorists when they attacked that mall in Jersey," Ailisa whispered. "They said it was anti-terrorist teams from the Department of Homeland Defense. Were you involved in that?"

"Yes," Brose sighed. "I still have nightmares. Like I said, I hate killing, but sometimes you have no choice."

Brendan and Ailisa could see Brose was upset by the memories.

"Well, we'd better head back to my base," Brose said as she stood. "Are you going to come along peacefully or do I have to get rough?"

Brendan and Ailisa exchanged looks then shrugged. "I have the feeling we'll being going with you whether we want to or not," Brendan sighed. "We may as well make it easy on everyone."

Brose directed the duo as she followed. They were amazed when they came right to the clearing where the trailer sat. Brose stopped them just inside the trees as they looked at her, amazed at her uncanny sense of direction.

Brose keyed her microphone. "Marshal Davis, this is Sergeant Shamrock. We can break radio silence. I need you to pull the two men guarding our trailer out ASAP. We have secured the homestead and most of the family. They have all been disarmed. The two sixteen year olds escaped into the forest so order your men to be on the lookout. They are not armed. You can send in your clean up units to take over the prisoners and secure the property. Once you relieve my team, they'll be returning to the trailer. We'll be out of your hair by four."

After getting an acknowledgment, Brose waited until the guards climbed into their SUV and drove away. Brose then led Brendan and Ailisa into the trailer. Once they were safely inside she went to the communications console and buzzed the rest of the team. "Packages are safe. Mission status?"

"Mission accomplished and waiting relief," was the reply from Sgt. McNeil.

"Stay away from the windows”, Brose ordered the pair as she pulled a simmering coffee pot of hot water from a hotplate to make herself a cup of hot chocolate. "Help yourself to some hot chocolate, tea or instant coffee. The marshals will be coming by soon so make sure you stay away from the windows."

Brose keyed her team again. "When the Marshals arrive, turn your prisoners over to them, fill them in on what you've discovered, then return to base. I can hear vehicles coming down the road now." Brose motioned for Brendan and Ailisa to stay down, then stepped outside as the lead black SUV pulled up to the trailer while the rest continued to the homestead.

Marshal Davis emerged. "I don't know how you did it without injuries."

"We have our ways, Marshal," Brose replied. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid we should not have gotten involved. Our search revealed no illegal weapons. These people are not terrorists. I'll be releasing the two prisoners we took last night from DHS custody. If you want them I'll have the prison transfer them to your custody, otherwise they'll be released."

"No, we want them," Marshal Davis replied. "We found quite a bit from the searches we conducted this morning."

"When my team gets here, we'll pack up and return to our base," Brose explained. "I'll have a full written report to you in twenty four hours. I apologize for being such a hard ass, but I've discovered it's what I need to do because people think I'm too young to be effective. It's been a pleasure working with you, Marshal Davis."

Brose extended her hand and Marshal Davis took it. "I understand," he said as he applied an unnecessary amount of pressure in his grasp.

The two smiled as Brose increased her grip to match and then overwhelm his. "Like I said, I have to assert myself to get people to respect me."

It was Marshal Davis who broke the handshake. Brose had nearly crushed his hand. "Understood, Sergeant," he stated as he massaged his hand. With that he climbed into his SUV and headed down the lane.

Fifteen minutes later, two SUVs returned and the team exited, thanking the drivers for the lift. Little was said as the team set to work dismantling and packing up their equipment. Brendan and Ailisa watched their efficiency with admiration. They were surprised by the quads.

Ailisa looked at the quads and Brose. "How old are you guys?"

"Same age as you, sixteen," Brose replied.

"You have to be older than that," Brendan declared. "You're a sergeant. That's impossible at our age."

"Not in our unit," Brose explained. "We can't go into more detail until your testing is complete. Until then just keep your questions generic."

An hour later they were on a DHS jet taking off from the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton Airport headed back to The Center. For Brendan and Ailisa it was their first flight. While they were nervous, their excitement over-rode their anxiety. They sat across the aisles well behind the wings so they could see the ground far below.

After some refreshments, the quads wrote out their report on the mission. Sgt. McNeil, Sgt. High and Pvt. Loose just stretched out and dozed. Brose wrote up her report and kept an eye on Brendan and Ailisa.

About half way through the flight the quads began excitedly talking in quad-speak. That caught the attention of Brendan and Alisa. They Watched in fascination as the conversation swirled from quad to quad with out a break.

"Before you ask, yes, they usually talk that way," Brose smiled as she moved up to the row of seats behind Brendan and Alisa. "I'm sure you've heard about how twins sometimes know what the other is thinking or feeling. Well, as far as we can tell the quads have a telepathic link so they know what they're going to say."

"If they're telepathic," Alisa said. "Why do they bother to talk?

"They told us speaking slows them down," Brose answered. "When they try to 'talk' telepathically, they go so fast they lose track of the conversation. They can give brief silent communications, but for anything longer, they speak. That plus they said if they communicate telepathically for too long, their personalities start to bleed into each other. So to keep their own identity, they speak aloud."

"They're quadruplets," Brandon exclaimed. "They look like siblings but I thought they were two sets of twins."

"They're quite unique," Brose explained. "They're what is known as super twins. Their mother was gang raped, and she had two eggs in her womb. Each was fertilized by a different father. That makes them fraternal twins. For some reason, each egg split into identical twins. Super twins are fraternal twins, each of whom spit to form identical twins."

"That's weird," Brendan shook his head.

"Unusual would be a better description," Alisa added. "So Brose, I assume you and the quads passed this test we'll be taking?"

"Yes, we have," Brose answered. "Now that we're airborne, I can tell you what's going on." Brose related the tale of the contaminated water and the repercussions to the expectant mothers and their children.

"That sounds like science fiction," Alisa was the first to respond. "So that's what happened to you and the quads? You were a boy?"

"Yes, I was six feet two inches and weighed one hundred ninety five pounds," Brose replied. Now I'm five feet seven inches. The change is rough, but it's over quickly."

Brendan was frowning. "We don't have a choice about changing sex?"

"No, it's part of the mutation caused by the contaminated water," Brose explained. "That's why you need to be tested. Everyone who was contaminated is dual sexed. Before transitioning, we have the sexual organs of the sex we appear to be. But we also have hidden vestigial sex organs of the opposite sex. Basically our chromosomes are XXY and we manifest as one sex before transition, and the other afterwards. So far there has been no way to stop it or reverse it. While The Center wants us to learn how to present as our new sex, they do allow us to crossdress. Since nearly everyone has been through the change, no one blinks an eye. It makes no difference if you're straight, gay, bi-sexual or non-sexual. Everyone is accepted for what they are."

"So this Center we're going to," Brendan said. "It's like a military academy for mutants?"

"Not really, we're under the Department of Homeland Security and are commanded by an Army Colonel," Brose said. "It's like a boarding school where we take regular classes. We also train with our talents and in self defense. Some of us also take military training. We go on missions to bring in or stop people as they transition."

"That's what you were doing in New Jersey," Alisa said.

"Yes," Brose replied. "We were after the quads. There are other people that want us for our talents, as far as we can tell, we're the only good guys. The bad guys got to the quads first, they were actual terrorists, we fought them and took them out."

"Wow," Brendan exclaimed. "So is this the first mission for the quads?"

"Yes," Brose replied. "The terrorists killed their grandparents and grabbed them, we got them back. Look, I really don't like thinking about what I did there. It gives me nightmares."

"Sorry," Alisa said. "Can you tell us more about this Center?"

"We have dorm rooms that two people share," Brose said. "Everybody has a study desk with a state of the art computer and we have virtually unlimited access to the internet but our outgoing messages are monitored and censored. We have a nice cafeteria that provides three good meals a day but it's not like a regular school cafeteria. They have a lot of things to choose from and if there is something special you like they try to get it. We have access to food anytime. After hours they have pre-made selections in vending machines and microwaves are available to heat them. We have a student lounge. A huge gym, weight training room, firing range, inside and outside track and outdoors cross country and bike trails. Indoor and outdoor swimming pools, hot tubs, saunas, heck, it's almost like a resort."

"It sounds almost too good to be true," Alisa said. "What are the down sides?"

"There really aren't too many. The hardest is we're not allowed to contact our families because of our sex-change and talents. That would be too hard to explain. The worst is we've got to wear uniforms," Brose said. "They make us girls look like some geeky guy’s Japanese schoolgirl fantasy. They do it so we can acclimate ourselves to our new bodies. It would look weird for a girl to behave like a boy or vise-versa, so the uniforms force us into our new roles. But at the same time they are quite liberal. We're allowed to date and several people have become lovers. The only requirement is that precautions are used to prevent pregnancy and that nothing lewd happens in public. Holding hands, hugging, and kissing are okay, but anything more is done in private. They respect us and in turn, we respect the rules. Our over all commander is a one of us, Kristyn. She reports directly to the colonel. The entire adult staff and our military staff are under her command. We have two other bases beside The Center. All three base commanders are our age and have authority over the students and staff. They report to Kristyn."

“On the whole, it doesn't sound like a bad place," Alisa nodded. "I don't think I'll mind being a boy. I know Brendan won't mind being a girl."

"Alisa," Brendan whined as he turned bright red. "You promised you'd keep that secret!"

"From our family and friends," Alisa answered. "If we change, I can understand why they keep us from our family. It would be too hard to explain."

At that point the orders came to fasten their seat belts as the plane began to descend. It was night by that time so all they could see was the lights of the buildings and vehicles.

Brendan and Alisa saw little as the windows of the SUVs that took them to The Center had blacked out windows. They were whisked to the infirmary and given exams. Both passed and they would be staying on at The Center. They spent the night in the infirmary and most of the next morning getting thorough physicals. It wasn't too often the doctors and scientists had pre- transitioned teens to check out.

Brendan and Alisa were assigned to Jill Reese and Kyle Gator, both level one empaths who would monitor them for signs of first emergence. After being outfitted with uniforms and a small basic wardrobe, they were shown to the rooms they'd be temporarily sharing with the empaths. Once they transitioned, permanent room assignments would be made. Once they put their clothes away in their rooms they were taken to the cafeteria for lunch. They discovered Brose had not been lying about the menu.

Brendan and Alisa caused a lot of excitement amongst the transitioned. They seldom got the chance to meet anyone pre-transition. Most made an effort to introduce themselves. Many told them that there had been some success with manifesting their new body if they decided what they'd like to look like and held that image in their mind as they started to transition.

No one had any idea when they would transition so Brendan and Alisa had to visit the infirmary every morning and evening for quick check-ups and urine samples. Blood would be drawn once a week as well as at the first emergence. They also began taking school classes with the others.

Brendan and Alisa were amazed by the diverse talents. They both began martial arts training as they knew one's knowledge and physical abilities usually not only transferred to the transitioned body, but physical traits were often enhanced as had happened with Brose. They spent some time on the firing range impressing Mr. Weiss with their marksmanship learned in their rural upbringing.

Kristyn was delighted with the bloodless outcome of the mission and hoped by studying Brendan and Alisa pre-transition would help them understand the process. Brose had proved she was capable of leading a bloodless mission.

*****

Brose opened up more after the successful mission as while she had used her abilities, no one had been injured. While still uneasy about her exploits during the quads rescue, she discovered that even the brief conversation she'd had with Brendan and Alisa had improved her ability to deal with the PTSD.

The SOS squad trained nearly every day in many different scenarios. They functioned like a well oiled machine and knew what their squad mates could do. They hoped they'd be prepared for any contingency.

The SOS squad was scrambled at 9:15 am. They all reported to the armory ASAP where Max was waiting.

*****