Insert standard disclaimer here: The one that reminds everyone that this is a work of fiction. No one is real and any resemblance to someone who is real is just the reader's imagination. This is also a Fan Fiction set in the Whateley Story Universe. No Canon characters were permanently harmed in the making of this story. I hope. :)

Note: Thanks again djkauf for correcting my many mistakes.

** Chapter 32 **

I almost flip out when Amanda says that she thought that I could be a boy. Instead of giving it away by flipping out, I laugh at her joke.  “Amanda, Oh gawd.  That’s funny!” I say while working real hard to find something funny about it.

Amanda giggles as gestures to my body. “I know! I mean just look at you, but the way you kicked those guy’s asses and how you reacted afterwards.  Can you teach me how to fight?” She asks with a hopeful expression.

I’m not sure when I would have the time to do that, but it’s kind of hard to say no to her. “Umm, sure? But, maybe you could find a jujitsu dojo somewhere near your house?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, hadn’t thought about that. You’re probably going to be heading back to New Mexico soon.” Amanda says, looking a little sad.

I look over at Mr. Reilly, but he’s not really paying attention to us.  I follow his gaze and I see three different TV News vans setting up their broadcast antennas.  I flip over to their frequencies and I am a little shocked by the excited chatter between their reporters and the producers back at the station.  They seem to be very excited by the military helicopters and the reports of H1 attacking some mutant who cleaned their clocks.  The producers are all very adamant about getting good footage of the mystery mutant.

“Oh, crap!” I say, before I can censor myself. I glance over at my mom and she doesn’t look very happy about my outburst.  “The TV cameras.  They want to get my picture.”

Mr. Reilly looks over at me and sighs. “Yes, and if Mrs. Townsend doesn’t mind, I think that having Amanda ride with Whisper may actually help confuse them some.”

Barb looks a little concerned about that idea while Amanda just looks even more excited, if that is even possible.  “I dunno, are you okay with that, Amanda?” Barb asks.

“H...Heck yes!” Amanda says excitedly.

Mr. Reilly looks over to the FBI agents with a thoughtful expression.  “Hmm, we will need something to hide the girls’ faces.”

Special Agent Gilbert smiles. “They could borrow a couple of our jackets to hide themselves with.” He says.

I pull on Mr. Reilly’s sleeve, motioning him to lean over. “Umm, I could try my magic to disguise us.” I say, whispering into his ear.

“Tempting, Whisper.” Mr. Reilly says, straightening back up. “But, I think a more mundane approach might be safer.”

I can’t help feel a little disappointed with Mr. Reilly’s adult responsibility.  I wanted to show off, just a little.  Special Agent Gilbert brings over two FBI jackets and has Amanda and me cover our heads to help block the cameras.  As my mom and Barb head for Barb’s car, Mr. Reilly leads me and Amanda to the helicopter.  We are flanked by the two FBI agents who were “volunteered” to lend us their jackets and two of the Air Force Combat Rescue guys.

“Oh. My. Gawd!  Br..Whisper! This is so cool! It’s just like the movies!” Amanda says with an excited whisper as she corrects herself into using my code name.

I am pretty darn excited myself. “Yeah, it is!” I say, sounding almost as school girl giddy as Amanda.  Now that the life and death part is over, the idea of getting to ride in a freaking Black Hawk is almost overwhelming.

I have a small window displaying what the TV crews are broadcasting and so far, not a one has been able get a shot of our faces, but it’s not for lack of trying.  The camera crews have us zoomed in hoping for a glimpse of us.  I debate trying to jam their transmission, but I doubt that it would do anything since they are just recording the video.

As soon as we are in the copter and out of sight from the cameras, I hand my FBI jacket back to one of the FBI dudes.  I wouldn’t want them to get cold.  

Amanda follows my lead.  “Thanks!” She yells.

The FBI guys leave and after closing the side doors, one of the Air Force guys helps buckle me and Amanda into our seats.  Amanda can’t stop looking around and giggling about every little thing.

“Oh my gawd, this is so exciting!” Amanda squeals into my ear as she grabs my arm..

When the Black Hawk starts to take off, she screams and latches onto my arm in a death grip.  So, of course, I have to play all calm and cool instead of laughing like a crazy guy, umm, girl from the adrenalin rush.  Did I mention that I am flying in a freaking Black Hawk?

Amanda doesn’t let go of her death-grip on my arm until we level off.  Once that happens, neither one of us can get enough of straining our seat belts to look out the windows.  I discover that I can listen in on the pilot’s chatter and even view their flight systems.  Initially, I monitor everything, but it is just too much information.  I decide to just let it pour in while I pick and choose what to look at right now.  Things that I find kind of important are engine status and the flight radar because losing an engine when you have the aerodynamics of a bumble-bee is bad and radar because it is just cool to watch. Maybe I can create a simulator inside my head and learn how to fly a helicopter.  Now, that would be cool.  I am very careful to only look at the data because messing with things and making the helicopter crash would be bad.  Especially with me in it.

We land on the helipad on top of the hospital and as soon as the doors open, Mr. Reilly hustles me and Amanda down to the test facility. One of the staff doctors and a nurse meets us in the test facility area and leads me and Dr. Edmundson to the X-ray room.  Amanda is allowed to come with me, but for obvious reasons, she has to wait outside the radiation room.

After the X-ray, Dr. Edmundson puts me in an exam room and surprisingly, he lets Amanda stay to keep me company, or something.  I’m not really sure why he lets her stay with all the secret stuff, especially when he opens up his laptop and tries to pull up my diagnostic data.  “Hmm, I wonder why I can’t see your data?” He mutters, mostly to himself as he looks at his laptop screen with frustration.

“Umm, maybe because my access is turned off right now?” I ask trying to be helpful.

Dr. Edmundson blinks at me with surprise. “Uggh, I think that I need some coffee because I can’t believe that I didn’t consider that, thanks.” He says, then turns back and enters the administrative screens.  I watch as he pulls up my account and removes the time restrictions.

>System Diagnostic Access Request from 192.123.10.9:2030
>Allow? Y/n

Umm, yes, please.

Dr. Edmundson’s screen fills with my current information.  Heart-rate, blood pressure, pulse rate, EKG graph, blood oxygen levels, everything except for my bladder which is bad because I kind of need to go right now and I’m bleeping starving too.  There isn’t really a status indicator for my hunger levels, but a do spot a blood glucose monitor.

“Umm, Doctor Edmundson?” I ask.

Dr. Edmundson is a little distracted by all the stuff on my monitor. “Yes, Bree?”

“I’m feeling kinda hungry right now, is a blood glucose of 68 mg/dL good or bad?” I ask

Amanda decides to look over at the screen too. Her eyes practically pop out of her head as she sees all the data on the screen. “Is that really your stuff?” She asks.

“Yep, and in real time. Pretty cool, huh?” I ask, feeling a little proud of my coolness.

“Yeah, but kinda spooky too.” Amanda says as she studies it for a few more seconds before sitting back down to look the old girlie magazine she found somewhere.

Dr. Edmundson looks over at Amanda. “Young lady?” He asks.

“It’s Amanda, umm, sir.” She says looking up from her magazine.

“Sorry, Amanda.  Would you mind running up front and seeing if you can find Bree a Vegetarian meal of some kind, maybe an MRE?” Dr. Edmundson asks.

Amanda smiles at him. “Sure!” She says as she stands up to leave. “Are you going to be okay, Bree?”

I give her the thumbs up. “Not as much fun as the ride here, but I’ll be fine.” I say with a grin.

“Oh, Amanda, could you also see if you can find a sports drink or two also?” Dr. Edmundson asks.

Amanda gives Dr. Edmundson one of her winning smiles. “Sure thing, Doc.  Do you need anything?” She asks.

He looks surprised that she would be so thoughtful. “Actually, I could use a cup of coffee. If you don’t mind?” Dr. Edmundson asks with a pleased smile.

“Sure!  That will probably be easier to find than food. I’ll grab that for you first!” Amanda says as she bounces out of the room and in search of coffee.

As soon as she is out of the room, Dr. Edmundson looks back to his laptop. “Okay, let’s rewind the monitor to around the time of your fight. See what we can see, hmm?” He says, mostly to himself as he starts typing on his keyboard.

“Actually, do you mind if I run to the bathroom?” I ask as I start to fidget in my seat.

“Oh, no.  Go right ahead.” Dr. Edmundson says without even looking up from his laptop.

I don’t need to be told twice. As he starts pulling down information from me, I jump up and race for the nearest restroom. This is the worst that I have had to go since my change and it shows how desperate I am when I run into the men’s room without thinking.  Hey, it was the closest.  I stop for a second at the sight of the urinals mocking me with their ease of use before I just shrug my shoulders and run into the stall. I make it in time and wow, what a relief!  I can’t believe that I held it for so long or how fast it hit me that I had to go.

I am just finishing up when I hear the door open and someone walk in.  My sensors identify him as Mr. Reilly.

Oh crap.

I decide that hiding in the stall until he leaves would just be silly, so I step out and try to be casual about my mistake as I head for the sinks to wash my hands.

Mr. Reilly stops on his way to a urinal with a confused expression. “Bree?  What are you doing in here?”

I stop and I feel myself blushing. “Oh, umm, I had to go real bad and didn’t realize that I was in the men’s room until after I saw the urinals and, well...” I say, helplessly trailing off with a shrug.

“Oh, well. Okay.  Hurry up and wash your hands then, please.” Mr. Reilly says as if a girl in the men’s room is a common occurrence.  

“Okay, sorry sir.” I say as I wash my hands as fast as possible.

“Oh, hey, what room is Dr. Edmundson in?”  Mr. Reilly asks.

“We are in room 128.” I say as I quickly pull up my map to help figure out what room I was in.  I notice that the woman’s restroom is on the other-side of room 128. If I had just taken a left instead of a right, I wouldn’t have run into the men’s room.  It was closer too.

“Thanks.” Mr. Reilly says as I quickly dry my hands and toss the paper towel in the trash on my way out.

“Phew” I say under my breath as I walk back to the room.  

Dr. Edmundson has a fresh cup of coffee in his hand.  I don’t know how I missed seeing Amanda in the halls, but I guess she zigged when I zagged. I pull up the map again and find that there is a break room just around the corner from here, so I guess that explains it.

“I was just going over your whipsers for the fight and I have to say that I am amazed!” Dr. Edmundson says.

“My what?” I ask wondering what my ‘whipsers’ thing is and if Dr. Edmundson is just confusing my code-name with something else.  He must be more tired than he looks.

“Oh, sorry, WIPSRS or Warfighter Individual Physiological Status and Repair System.”

“Oh, okay.” I say while pondering the extreme acronym addiction that the military seems to have. Why didn’t they just call it something simple, like, Health Monitor or Emergency Medical System?

Mr. Reilly chooses that moment to enter the room.  “What have you discovered, Dr. Edmundson?” He asks.

“Well, Bree’s, umm, medical system responded perfectly and if we couldn’t review the medical monitor, we would never know that she got shot.  Her X-ray was perfect. Not a trace of a gunshot wound to be found.”

“Oh, good.” Mr. Reilly sounds relieved as he turns to me. “When I heard that you had been shot, I got more than a little concerned.”

I feel touched that he was worried about me.  His reminder causes me to flash review that part of the fight. “Umm, thank you sir, but I didn’t really feel it.” I say with a slight stammer as my emotions catch up to the fact that someone shot me, with a big ass gun and with ammo designed to kill.

Mr. Reilly notices my reaction. He touches my shoulder, the one I wasn’t shot in. “Are you okay?” He softly asks studying my face with concern.

I hesitantly nod as my reply since I don’t really trust myself to speak right now.

“Well, she is suffering from low blood sugar, but she just needs to eat.” Dr. Edmundson says.

Mr. Reilly gently squeezes my shoulder before letting go and turning to face Dr. Edmundson. “Should I make a few calls, see if someone can round her up some food?”

Amanda picks that moment to walk back into the room with two plastic bags and three bottles of a lime green sport drink. “Oh, hey. I found some Veggie MRE things. The guy who had them seemed real happy to get rid of them too.” Amanda says, looking slightly perplexed.

I look at one of the packets as she hands it to me.  They have “Vegetarian” in big letters on the outside with Menu No. 13 Cheese Tortellini.  That doesn’t sound too bad to me.  I rip open the bag and find more bags.  The plastic kind of itches, so I try not to hold the bags for too long.

Oh, cool, these are the kind that heat the food up by just adding some water to a special bag.  The heater bag makes me smile. The instructions are pretty simple and there is even a picture.  It says to lean your heating meal against a rock or something.  It actually has “rock or something” printed inside of the rock picture.  What could “something” be?  I bet I could make a game out of finding things to substitute for “something”.

I dig into the carrot pound cake first. It doesn’t taste that bad and I am so hungry that it is gone before I realize it.  I decide to heat up the tortellini by using the side of the examining room’s sink as “something”.  While it is warming up my food, I chow down the candy. Well, most of it. I share some with Amanda. I’m not that hungry and she did fetch the food for me.  Next, I gobble down the peanut butter and crackers, but the dehydrated spiced apples taste pretty bad so I toss them after eating less than half. However, I am pleased to say that the tortellini tastes pretty good.  I think that I could get used to eating these MRE things.  

Hey, it even came with some toilet paper, matches, gum and a moist towelette.  That stuff could come in handy. That thought makes me realize that I forgot my purse. I hope that my mom noticed it.  

Oh crap!

I did not just think that it would be a good thing to save the toilet paper and I did not just regret forgetting my purse, did I?

Thankfully, my mom, my purse and Barb show up just as I finish up the first MRE.  

“Oh, hi Mom, how was...?” I say, trailing off as I notice her expression.  

She hands me my purse without a word. She looks upset. Barb motions for Amanda to join her and Amanda seems to sense the storm in the air. She quickly joins her mom after smiling and waving apologetically at me.  Amanda softly closes the door behind her and as soon as it closes my mom opens up.

“Okay, Mr. Reilly, I want to know just what in the hell is in my daughter!  The secret crap is over. I was willing to let it go due to all the national security this and national security that, but whatever it was that made my daughter fight and act like some kind of Terminator thing has got to go!  I demand that you tell me just what in the hell is going on!” My mom says with a growling tone in her voice that would make a momma grizzly bear proud.

“Mom, I’m...” I say before she turns her glare on me.

“Brianna Nichole. No, you are not okay.  You were an emotionless, killing machine and I demand to know why!” She says as turns back to glare at Mr. Reilly and Dr. Edmundson.

Dr. Edmundson looks up to my mom with surprise. “Emotionless? Jennifer, can you describe what you witnessed?”

My mom’s jaw clenches with frustration. She wants answers and she wants them now, but after a few seconds she sighs. “Are you telling me that you don’t know?”

Dr. Edmundson glances to Mr. Reilly before looking back at my mom. “I have some hypotheses, but I lack enough information right now to make more than a guess.  What did you witness?”

“After the fight, I noticed that Bree felt completely emotionless to me.  It was like she was a zombie or something. It wasn’t until Bree spoke to Mr. Reilly that her feelings came back and then, she sort of crashed.”  My mom says, trembling with emotion as she holds back her tears.

That reminds me about that “Combat Stim” message I received just before I started fighting and then afterwards. “Umm, I saw something about a ‘Combat Stim’, does that help?” I ask.

Everyone turns and looks at me.  Dr. Edmundson’s eyes briefly widen with surprise as he makes some connections.  “I think that Bree may have the STIM system inside of her.” He says as he looks back at his laptop and begins to type on his keyboard.

Mr. Reilly studies my mom in silence for a few seconds before he nods his head. “Dr. Edmundson, would you please explain the STIM system to us?” He says without taking his eyes off my mom’s face.

“Yes sir.  Ahh, here it is. The STIM System, or Soldier Tactical Internal Medical System, as it was originally planned, was intended to provide a boost to soldiers in high stress combat situations.” Dr. Edmundson says starting out in a lecture tone.

My mom decides to interrupt him. “A boost?!?! You call that, that emotionless thing, a boost!?” She says incredulously as she angrily crosses her arms over her chest.  I guess that she does that to keep herself from strangling him. She’s madder, no,  more pissed than I have ever seen her.

“Sorry, not a ‘boost’ in the traditional sense.  In addition to the combat event, our soldiers face the threat of PTSD caused by the emotional trauma of simply surviving a high intensity combat situation. They can face years of therapy and have difficulty fitting back into society when the traumatic event or series of events are long over.  Sometimes suffering from crippling flashbacks years or even decades later.”

My mom’s posture changes from super pissed to patiently pissed. “Okay, and...?” She asks.
 

Given the green light, Dr. Edmundson launches into full lecture mode and he goes over how bad PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is for our soldiers in combat and after combat.  He then covers how the body’s own systems can help to fight PTSD and save a soldier’s life during combat, but that the effects of the body’s own fight or flight reactions can sometimes actually make things worse when the body pumps out tons of adrenaline and cortisol.  The STIMS thing was originally developed around the model of a simple surgically implanted insulin pump that would be loaded with a special synthetic drug cocktail that could be triggered by the soldier during combat and easily refilled by a qualified medical technician.

That idea was too costly to implement on a large scale, had too many negative side effects and was too prone to abuse, so it was scraped.  However; DARPA came up with the idea of using the body’s own systems to produce the same result with less risk to the soldier.  The scientists working on the project came up with a way for nanites to assemble a small storage device that would sit next to the adrenal glands and store the hormone cocktail that the doctors identified as the best option to achieve the results they were aiming for.  

When he is finally done, my mom isn’t as pissed, but I can tell she is still upset. “Okay, so why didn’t you know that she had this thing inside of her?”

Dr. Edmundson looks slightly ashamed. “Well, like I mentioned during our initial investigation shortly after Bree came to us, we have not been able to get Bree’s nanites to report or even respond to our commands. So, we have not been able to conduct an accurate inventory of what she has inside of her until she has a symptom that we can use to identify something.”

They all look at me again.  I wish I knew what all was inside of me too.

Okay, me, what is inside of me?

>Active Systems Inventory:

>METS - Medical Emergency Trauma Suit

>JTRS - Joint Tactical Radio System
>WIPSRS - Warfighter Individual Physiological Status and Repair System

>IX-LRAS3 - Individual eXperimental - Long Range Advanced Scout Surveillance System

>C4ISR - Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance, & Reconnaissance

>IFSFCS - Individual Future Soldier Fire-Control System

>VIK - Vehicle Integration Kit

>STIMS - Soldier Tactical Internal Stimulant System

>ISMRES - Individual Soldier Muscle Reflex Enhancement System

Holy shit!

Sorry. I didn’t expect that to actually work and even more surprising is that the item descriptions even displayed.  Although, I have to admit that even the descriptions don’t really help all that much. “Umm, I just asked, umm, myself that question and I got a listing. Would that help you all?” I ask.

Now everyone is looking at me again.  Dr. Edmundson is the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “Yes, yes that would. Can you tell me what you have?” He asks.

“It’s got a lot of acronyms. I could just make it into a text file and put it in the same folder that I put the video of my tennis ball test.  Would that work?” I ask as I place the output in that folder.

“Ahh, yes, that would be good.” Dr. Edmundson says with a grin.

Dr. Edmundson pulls the file up and displays it to everyone.  My mom still does not look happy, but she’s not in full-out momma bear mode either.  “Okay, based on what you all have told me and what we have seen, I can kind of guess at what some of this stuff does, but what are the WIPSRS and ISMRES things?” She asks.

Dr. Edmundson glances from his screen and back to my mom’s face. “Well, WIPSRS is what I am using here to monitor Bree’s health and it is also responsible for the rapid healing we observed with Bree today.  Without it, she may have died and if not, she would most certainly be in critical condition on an operating table right now.”

My mom gasps and Dr. Edmundson pauses his explanation.  My mom sits down in the open chair next to me, grabs my hand and hugs me close to her body.

Dr. Edmundson’s expression softens with concern as he continues. “And, the ISMRES is the system responsible for Bree’s enhanced strength and increased reflex response rate.  Which is also what helps to explain her scores in the physical tests yesterday as well as...”  He trails off before he reminds us all why we are here right now instead of snuggled up, I mean sleeping, in our beds.

Mr. Reilly clears his throat to gain our attention. “This is very helpful data, but we have a spook being flown in to perform an AAR with Whisper and it appears that we have a few more tests to perform for both Whisper and Psyche.”

My mom’s eyes snap up to Mr. Reilly.  “AAR?” She asks.

“Sorry, After Action Review.  We just need a combat expert to review and analyze her fight for us.” Mr. Reilly pauses before my mom can ask her next question. “And...the additional tests we need to perform on both of you are regarding an anomalous reading we received for Whisper’s Empathy test and your apparent ability to project your empathic powers.” He says as he studies my mom for her reaction.

Me, I’m starting to panic.  What does he mean by an anomalous reading with my empathy test? Do they know that I can talk to computers?  Nikki and Sara both warned me about letting them know about that power.  Crap!  What do I do?  That STIMS thing would be real nice right about now.

>Initiating Combat Stimulant...

Ahhh, all the panic and fear disappears.

“Bree! What’s wrong?” My mom says as she shakes my body.

Why is my mom shaking me? Oh yeah, she’s worried about me. Maybe I should have told the STIMS thing to not do that, but if I had, I’d be real worried right about now. “Oh, nothing, Mom. Why?” I ask.

“Her STIM system activated for some reason.” Dr. Edmundson says after a quick glance at his laptop.

Oh, that’s a security risk.  

Disable feed.

His screen turns blank as all my data disappears. Okay, now what do I do? My mom seems to be getting more agitated, but I don’t understand why.  Maybe I should smile and reassure her to help calm her down.

“Mom, I’m fine.” I say as I smile at her reassuringly.

“Bree! Stop it!” My mom screams and holds me tight to prevent me from escaping.

“Whisper?” Mr. Reilly asks.

I gently push my mom’s arms apart and stand to face Mr. Reilly. “Yes sir?” I ask.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Then, why have you activated your STIMS and disabled the monitor?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“The monitor was a security risk.” I say as I conveniently ignore his first question. I should be worried right now, but I’m not and that is great.

“And the STIMS?”

“I, I need it.” I say with a little hesitation.  I probably don’t need it, but it sure is nice.

“Why did you need it?”

“Because, I’m not safe.” I say.

“You’re safe here.  The fight is over.” Mr. Reilly says.

“I’m not safe. I need to leave.” I say.

“No!” My mom grabs my arm forcing me to look at her. “It’s the tests. Is that what you’re worried about?” My mom asks.

She is on to me. “I need to leave.” I say as I walk towards the door, dragging my mom behind me.

“Bree, you need to shut down the STIMS. It could kill you if you leave it running for too long.” Dr. Edmundson says.

I hesitate for a second.  If true, then I should shut it down, else death = bad.

“Bree, you’re safe here. I promise.  Whatever it is that you’re worried about, doesn’t leave this room.” Mr. Reilly says.

I know that I can trust Mr. Reilly.  He is Nikki’s Dad.  I can definitely trust my mom and I think that I can trust Dr. Edmundson.  The odds of him being an enemy agent must be pretty low.

>4,000,203,1:1

Cancel STIMS

>Shutdown Combat Stimulant...

Whoa!  My knees feel a little wobbly for a second, but my mom doesn’t allow me a chance to fall. She practically tackles me.

“Bree! What ever possessed you to do that?” My mom asks with tears in her eyes as she studies my face.

“Umm, well...” I say.

“What?” My mom asks.

Ashamed, I look away. “I can kinda sorta tell computers what to do and both Nikki and Sara warned me not to let anyone know until I could get to Whateley where I will be safe.” I say.

Mr. Reilly doesn’t say anything for the longest time. Well, actually only 15.232 seconds, but it seems longer.  “Nikki and Sara, huh?” He asks.

“Yes sir, Nikki said that something really really bad happened to a friend of theirs and it had something to with ARC and the CIA.  I tried to ask Sara about it, but she went all demon on me just thinking about it.” I say.

“Okay, I think that it is time for me and my daughter to have a little chat.” Mr. Reilly says as he reaches for his cell phone.

Not once did he ask me about Sara. Is that good or bad?
 

**

Nikki sat in front of her laptop and stared sightlessly at her screen as Aunghadhail played GEO.  Aunghadhail was bound and determined to get to the root of Bree’s transformation into a Sidhe Elf.  The genetic pattern for Bree had somehow come from GEO and Aung was pissed.  Aunghadhail had even taken the unusual step of forging a truce with Lord Vincint just so that she could speak more openly with him regarding Bree’s character.

Nikki’s cell phone began to buzz on her desk.  Who would be trying to call me at this late an hour on finals week?

She picked up her phone with the intent to ignore the call, until she noticed who it was from.  “Daddy?  Is something wrong? Is Bree okay?”  Nikki asked, alarmed because for him to call it had to be something bad and Bree was the only person with her Dad that could be in trouble.

“Oh, Whisper is okay right now, but she did just get done defending her mom against five H1! attackers and getting shot.” Her dad said with a casual air that did nothing to dispel her concern.  

“What!?!?” Nikki yelled into her phone, waking her roommate in the process.

Toni sprang out of her bed and landed in a fighting stance, ready for action. “What is it?! Are we being attacked again?” She asked looking back and forth between the window and the door as if expecting either of them to burst open under the assault of ninjas, zombies or worse.

“Sorry, Toni.  My dad.” She whispered as she pointed to her phone.  “I’ll cast a privacy ward.”

Toni grumbled a bit as she returned to her bed and Nikki cast her ward.

“Sorry Dad, I woke Toni up and she was ready for battle.  Tell me Bree is okay!  Oh man, I knew we should’ve made her come to Whateley and get tested here!” Nikki said without pause as Aung’s level of concern also increased.

“Nikki, it’s not...” Her dad said trying to calm her down.

“I’m coming!  I’ll be right there!” Nikki said as she raced over to her closet to find some clothes to wear.

“Nikki!”

“What? Daddy, I’m trying to get dressed.”  Nikki said impatiently.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask you about.” Her dad said.

“Oh, what is it then?  If it can wait, I can be there in just a few minutes.” Nikki said as she sat on her bed and struggled to pull on her jeans while craning her neck to talk on the phone with her dad.

“Nikki!  I do not want you to come here.  I want to know why you advised Whisper to not reveal her cyberpathic powers.” Her dad said, dropping the bombshell.

Nikki stopped trying to button up her jeans.  “What?” She asked in an attempt to buy her some more time to think.  If her dad knew about Bree’s cyberpathic powers, then that meant that the testers also knew and why was her dad calling Bree, Whisper instead of using her name?

“You heard me, and apparently Sara is involved in this little cover up and I want to know why.” Her dad said with a note of command in his voice.

Nikki anxiously bit her lip as she considered what to tell him.  Sara was the one who had the most information, but Nikki still knew enough of the details to not feel the need to call on her blood sister this moment.

<We probably need to tell him everything.  Since he is calling us directly and at this late of the hour, her secret may not be known.  He may be able to intercede on her behalf.> Aunghadhail advised.

“You’re probably right.” Nikki muttered.

“What was that?” Her dad asked.

“Sorry Dad.  Aung just had some advice for me.” Nikki said distractedly as she reviewed what she knew of Paige’s history.  “Okay, here is what I know and why Sara, Aung and I are very concerned about keeping Bree’s computer powers a secret for as long as possible.”
 

**

I debate listening in on Mr. Reilly’s conversation with Nikki, but hearing his side and watching his expression shift is enough for me to know that he is taking her story very seriously.

“She hacked your laptop in how many seconds?” Mr. Reilly asks as he looks at me with shock.  “Okay, so this example that you have.”  He is mostly silent, but he occasionally nods and says “uh huh” a few times during the next five minutes as he listens to Nikki’s story.

“Okay, so lemme get this straight.  She helped the CIA capture a Palm AI? Then she was attacked in the CIA’s testing facility and the CIA had a...” Mr. Reilly stops and glances at my mom and me before he finished that sentence. “Any proof?  Of course, so Nimbus inserted an operative into the ARC’s Black Section and that is why you had to fight Maelstrom?”

He rubs his temples with concern and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?  Okay. Yes, I can see how that would upset you.  No, I’m sorry, you’re right. While I don’t think that Whisper is in as much danger, I believe that your advice was correct, but I wish that you would have told me.  I’ll see what I can do to limit the testing here and yes, I will be speaking with Mrs. Carson first thing in the morning.  Whisper will be flying with me to Whateley tomorrow evening.  I love you too Nikki. Get some sleep, it’s finals week up there, right?  Yes, I know. Sure, I will.”  He says as he hangs up his phone and thoughtfully studies it for a few seconds.

During the entire conversation, my mom hugged me tighter and tighter with each passing minute.  Even Dr. Edmundson looked concerned as he patiently sat through the one sided conversation.

Mr. Reilly finally broke the tension with a sigh. “Okay Bree, Nikki wanted me to do this.” He says as he gives me a quick hug before stepping back. “Now, Whisper, tell me what you can do and if there are any other secrets that we should know about?”

He is back to using my code name for official stuff. I nervously glance at my mom. She nods her head and gives me an encouraging smile.  I guess that she’s not mad at me now.  I feel a little ashamed for panicking and trying to use the STIMS thing. If I had just kept my cool, I might have been able to make it through whatever tests they have planned for me without anyone even noticing a thing.  I crack and tell him both of the ‘big’ secrets.  

I tell him about how touching a computer lets me take it over.  I tell him about how I reprogrammed the TV remote, fixed my parent’s PC and hacked into Nikki’s super encrypted laptop.  I also tell him about my new discoveries with being able to ‘see’ everything inside of a computer from about five meters away.

I also tell him about the magic stuff with spells, how I might be able to hack wards and what Sir Wallace and Auntie Aung said about that little revelation.

When I am finally done confessing all my sins, and it feels good to get them off my chest, Dr. Edmundson is the first one to break the silence.  “Hmmm, so, you can sense the inner workings of my laptop from over there?” He asks.

I nod my head. “Yes, I can see what is on your screen and follow what you are doing, but I can’t make it do anything unless I touch it.”

“Interesting, very interesting. I think that may explain why you are able to control the nanites as well as you do and why you became infected with them in the first place.” Dr. Edmundson says with a gleam in his eyes.  He looks pretty excited.  “This is amazing, truly amazing!”

Mr. Reilly steps in. “Yes, Doctor Edmundson, it is, but from what Nikki told me, we need to keep her full capabilities under wraps, agree?” He asks.

Dr. Edmundson’s excitement fades a little as the reality sets in.  He sighs. “Yes, Director Reilly, I believe that you are correct.” He looks at me. “As exciting as it is for me, you have had too much happen to you in such a short time for me to even consider taking the chance that your power will be exposed and handled the wrong way by short-sighted bureaucrats.”

Mr. Reilly nods his head with agreement. “Exactly, based on the test results and incident report from the lab, we knew that you had to have some sort of affinity for computers, but not the extent.  Hell, I’m tempted to try and figure out a way to take advantage of your powers myself.  So, I know that if the powers that be found out, they wouldn’t want to let you out of their sight.”

My mom looks very concerned and anxious. “What can we do, Mr. Reilly?” She asks.

Mr. Reilly runs his hand through his hair as he considers her question. “Honestly? I’m not sure.  I don’t know what tests they might try subjecting her to, but I will do some research.”  He turns to me. “What was going to be your plan if we tested you?”

“Umm, I was just going to pretend that I couldn’t do anything with more than a simple calculator or remote control.” I say with a hesitant tone of voice because I didn’t really have a specific plan either. “But I was worried that if my mom was there, she would know that I wasn’t really trying.”

My mom gives my hand an extra squeeze. “Oh honey, I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize, but now that I do; there is no way that they are going to get their hands on my baby.” She says in full momma bear mode again.

Someone knocks politely on the door. Mr. Reilly looks up as we all become tense. “Come in.” Mr. Reilly says.

Barb pokes her head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but a Mr. Smith is in Conference room 103 with General Evans.”  She quickly flashes a smile at my mom and me before looking back to Mr. Reilly expectantly.

“Okay, we were just finishing up here.  Let them know that we are on our way, please.” Mr. Reilly says.

Barb smiles and nods her head. “Yes, Mr. Reilly.” She says as she backs out and closes the door.

“Okay, the AAR shouldn’t have any surprises. Just answer this, Mr. Smith’s questions regarding the fight and we should be good.” Mr. Reilly says giving the Mr. Smith the same emphasis that Barb did to indicate that wasn’t his real name, but we were all supposed to play along.

I spot Amanda slaving away on her homework when we pass through the lobby area.  She looks a little tired now that she is working on the boring stuff.  I smile and wave at her. “Wish I could help you.” I mouth while making faces behind Mr. Reilly’s back to show her how much I am looking forward to what I had to do.

Amanda starts to giggle at my predicament before she slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle herself.  I wave at her one last time before we leave the lobby area.  

As soon as we enter the conference room, my automatic CAC-ID card scan shows me who is in the room.

>U.S.AirForce/RA/MajorGeneral/O-8/Harold/Anthony/Evans/xxx-xx-xxxx/O+/FALSE
>U.S.Navy/RN/Captain/O-6/Kurtis/Bruce/Howards/xxx-xx-xxxx/B-/FALSE  
>DOD/R&D/Research Analyst/GS10/Barbara/Lynn/Townsend/xxx-xx-xxxx/B+/FALSE

General Evans and Captain Howards stand up to greet us, while Barb remains seated as she opens a notepad and readies her pen.  I guess that she is here to take notes. I am surprised to see that General Evans is wearing a camouflage uniform instead of his dressy blue uniform.  I guess that at 2300 hours, his formal uniform is a bit more work.  Captain Howards is also wearing a set of cami’s, but his are styled a bit differently with diagonal front pockets and no rank, service or name patch anywhere on his uniform.  His uniform definitely looks more used and combat ready than General Evans’ pristine uniform.

“Director Reilly, Doctor Edmundson, this is Mr. Smith.” General Evans says with a gesture to Captain Howards. He even manages to say his alias without making it sound like an alias.

Mr. Reilly and Dr. Edmundson shake Cpt. Howards’, I mean, Mr. Smith’s hand.  Mr. Smith is paying more attention to my mom and I though.  He looks alert, yet relaxed at the same time. I realize that he is actually standing in a modified ready stance and I feel myself adopting a similar stance without even thinking about it.

Mr. Reilly turns to introduce my mom and me. “And, Mr. Smith, this is....”

Mr. Smith looks right at me, grins and nods his head in cool acknowledgement. I think that he noticed my response. “Whisper.”  He then turns to my mom while keeping me in his field of vision like I am a threat or something. “Psyche.  Pleased to meet you both.” He says with a slight southern accent as he first shakes my mom’s hand, followed by my hand.

His hands feel rough and calloused compared to mine, but he doesn’t try to play a power game by squeezing as hard as he can.  Gentle, yet firm.  The only other thing that I am able to glean off him is that he has a cell phone on him, but it is powered down instead of just on standby mode, so I cannot read it.  

I debate letting Mr. Reilly know who Mr. Smith really is by sending him a text using my mom’s phone, but decide that it can wait until later. It’s probably not really that important anyway. Plus, with the introductions complete, my mom and I are motioned to sit opposite of Mr. Smith. I guess that makes sense.  That way, we can see each other better.

General Evans takes a deliberate sip of his coffee as the room comes to order.  “Okay, I know that it’s pretty damn late, but since we had a rather public incident, the SecDef wanted an After Action Review done immediately. Mr. Smith is here to help us with that.  Any questions?” He asks without really expecting any.

After very brief pause, General Evans reaches over to a remote that is sitting on the table and pushes the play button. “Here is what the public knows about the event.” He says.

We watch a five minute recording from this evening’s news. The coverage is mostly positive and paints me as a young girl attacked by heavily armed bad guys who may or may not be members of Humanity First. They don’t really have much, but about half way through the broadcast the news anchors provide an update that gives out my code-name and the fact that I have an MMID.

“Damn MCO!” Mr. Reilly says with a frustrated whisper. He looks more than just pissed, he looks furious and I can’t say that I am all that pleased with it either.

That ends the on-site reporters broadcast and the studio anchors begin to speculate about the reasons why a FBI Counter Terrorism Team, the military and a hazmat team were seen on the site.  They call on a couple of ‘experts’ to bounce their ideas off of.

One of the ‘experts’ offered his opinion as why the FBI was there.  “John, it’s simple really.  The U.S. Government has come under intense scrutiny over the past six months over the tactics that H1! are known to employ against mutants.  I dare say that the U.S. Government might be taking the first steps towards declaring H1! as a terrorist group so that the Justice Department can bring down the full force of law against them.”

That causes an argument by the second ‘expert’ on the show. “Dan, with all due respect,” As soon as I hear that, I know that what he has to say will be anything but respectful. I can’t help but smile. “Humanity First! is not a terrorist group and never has been.  They are merely dedicated to ensuring the safety of Humanity with these dangerous mutants that are living among us.”

That almost starts a fight between the two ‘experts’, but they end up getting cut off due to ‘technical difficulties’.  The broadcast ends by reporting that neither local law enforcement, the FBI, nor the military were willing to comment due to an ‘ongoing investigation’.

General Evans turns off the TV.  “Well, the good news is that the coverage was surprisingly sympathetic towards Whisper and her mom, the bad news is that the press know her code-name and the fact that she has an Military Mutant ID versus the standard Mutant ID.  That is going to raise some questions.  Any ideas?” He asks.

Mr. Reilly is the first to speak.  “That’s the easiest one. She’s a minor and the dependent child of an active duty military member. As such, she is entitled to an MMID.”

“Except she’s not really a military dependent.” General Evans says.

“No, but it will serve as a reasonable cover story for now.  Worst case, we draft Psyche into the Inactive Reserve as...” Mr. Reilly turns to my mom. “You have a college degree, right?” He asks.

My mom slowly nods her head, surprised by the direction that Mr. Reilly is taking this.

General Evans nods his head. “Hmm, okay, that could work.  The hazmat team?”

I am surprised that my mom isn’t stopping this entire conversation over the idea that she could be drafted into the Army or the Air Force or something.

“They were called in because someone thought that they saw a canister with a hazmat symbol in the attacker’s SUV and the Air Force just happened to have a team doing a training exercise that could respond. It turned out to be a false alarm and everything else is classified or part of the on-going criminal investigation.”  Mr. Reilly said with a smile.

“That will probably hold for now.  I will let my people know how to respond if they are asked.” General Evans glances over to Mr. Smith.  “Now, what we need to understand is exactly what happened during the incident.”

With that, Mr. Smith takes over and the grilling begins.  He’s as bad as Sensei Rogers was after my little run in with Billy in the 8th grade.  The first time I tell him about the fight isn’t so bad, but by the third time, I am feeling a bit frustrated by his repeated questions.  It is like he thinks I can’t remember exactly what happened. Heck, I can do more than just remember, I can rewind, replay, slow motion, fast forward and zoom in for every time stamped millisecond of the fight, in 3D even.

Mr. Smith treats my mom a bit better.  Her descriptions are fuzzy and more emotional than mine.  She’s not sure on some things and only remembers a detail when something triggers the memory.  Even then, the detail is not always the same. That seems to give him what he expects because my precise descriptions of every part of the fight seem to frustrate Mr. Smith a bit. “How is it that you have managed to tell me the exact same thing the last three times?  I am having trouble believing you because people forget things.”  

That kind of pisses me off. “Look, Captain, I have it all recorded...” I say, trailing off at the end from two realizations.  One, I just used his secret rank and two, that I do have the entire fight recorded.  I could just show him.

“What did you just call me?” Mr. Smith asks, looking alarmed.

Mr. Reilly chuckles. “Tell me, Mr. Smith, do you by chance, happen to have your CAC-ID card in your possession?”

Mr. Smith glances from me to Mr. Reilly with confusion. “Of course, why?”

“Whisper?” Mr. Reilly asks, glancing at me with a go-ahead expression.

“Mr. Smith, Captain, O-6, U.S. Navy, Kurtis Howards, B Negative, no allergies.” I say while skipping his SSN because I don’t think anyone needs to know that.  Since Dr. Edmundson re-opened my access, I then decide to check the Land Warrior network for him.  His 201 file has a lot of stuff for him, but most of it has been blacked out with a big red “CLASSIFIED”. Even his awards section has “CLASSIFIED” stamped all over it. He is a Navy SEAL though and attached to something called a CVN-69.

“Do you need to know more?” I ask as politely as possible and I even manage to not laugh at Mr. Smith’s expression.

“How?” Mr. Smith asks glancing between me and Mr. Reilly. General Evans looks a little uncomfortable while Barb’s eyes betray her amusement.

“Your CAC-ID contains an RFID chip.  Whisper is able to read that chip.” Mr. Reilly says with a stern expression directed towards me before he turns back to Mr. Smith. “However; the other point that I believe our young lady was trying to make before her temper got the better of her, is that she also has the ability to replay the fight from her perspective. Which just goes to show that we are a little tired, because I can’t believe that we didn’t think of it sooner.”  

Mr. Reilly looks back at me. “Whisper, if you will?”  He asks.

Feeling slightly chastised, I make a video copy of the fight that starts from the time we exited the mall and ends when I shut down my STIMS thing. It takes about 30 seconds to transfer the video file over the network. I know that I could have just touched Dr. Edmundson’s laptop and transferred it almost instantly, but I am not that tired and 30 seconds isn’t that long of a wait. “Okay Doctor Edmundson, I put the video in the normal spot.” I say when it is finally done transferring.

Dr. Edmundson pulls up the video on his laptop and after confirming that it will play, he plugs his laptop into the room’s projector.  Mr. Smith and General Evans both still look a little surprised by what is going on, but they both remain patiently silent until the replay starts.

After 15.24 seconds, Mr. Smith glances over at me before looking at Dr. Edmundson. “How you managed to capture such a high quality video of this is the first question that I have, but where is the tactical overlay and all that other stuff coming from?”

Dr. Edmundson pauses the video before he turns to look at Mr. Reilly. “Sir?”

Mr. Reilly considers Mr. Smith’s question for a few seconds.  “I could just say that it’s all classified, but I don’t think that will help us and I’m sure that you are aware of just how high up the totem pole this goes, right?”

Mr. Smith nods his head in agreement. “Seeing how I was yanked off the Ike in the middle of the Atlantic and flown here in the back seat of a Rhino at Mach 1, I can see that someone upstairs is a little anxious.”

Ike? Rhino? Instead of just asking, I use my link to pull up that CVN-69 thing he has in his 201 File.  

>CVN-69:
>USS Dwight D. Eisenhower "Ike"
>Nimitz Class

>Rhino:
>McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II ( Retired )
>Boeing F/A-18E/F Super Hornet

Holy crap! I am amazed by Mr. Smith’s nonchalance over his ride here.  He said it like getting a ride in an F/A-18F wasn’t anything special.  I know that I wanted a F-16 ride, but a F/A-18 wouldn’t be bad either.

“I’m sure that you have read both Whisper and Psyche’s test file.” Mr. Reilly gestures to the file folder in front of Mr. Smith.  

Mr. Smith nods his head.

I know, I know.  That’s not his name, but even though we all know his real name now, I still think of him as ‘Mr. Smith’. I think that it’s kind of super-spy cool.  “Hello Agent S. Are you ready for your super top secret license to kill mission briefing?”

Mr. Reilly snaps me out of my daydream when he starts with the summarized version of what happened to me.  Thankfully, he leaves out the embarrassing sex change bit, but includes everything else.

Mr. Smith opens his folder and right on top, I can see a printout from the super scanner thing.  It lists me and my mom’s scores.

Whisper:
ESP: *???EMP 3???*
GAD:2
PK:1G
EX Phy:4
WIZ:4
RGN:2

Psyche:
ESP: EMP 3  
EX Phy: 1

Unlike my mom’s scores, I notice all the question marks next to my ESP rating, and since Dr. Remus gave me a big fat one, I notice the four next to my Wizard rating. The GAD and PK thing confuses me. I’m not sure what those mean.  I guess that RGN means Regeneration, but a two seems low since I healed from the gun shot so quickly.

Mr. Reilly points to the printout. “It appears that the machine isn’t sure what or even if Whisper has an ESP rating, but based on previous observations, I think we know that she has something. Her Gadgeteer rating may have something to do with that though. Additionally, her Wizard rating is a four, yet the manual test performed by Doctor Remus only indicated that she is a one, at best.  So, I am not sure how reliable the rest of the scores are from the new system.  We know that her regen is higher than a two, but that can be explained by the nanites.”

It takes a lot of self-control to not smile as Mr. Reilly disassembles the test machine’s scores. The more unreliable he can make the machine sound, the better for me.

General Evans frowns at Mr. Reilly’s observations.  “It appears that we will need to perform some additional manual tests tomorrow.” He says.

Mr. Reilly has to be an excellent poker player.  “Yes, that would be prudent, but I would like for us to wrap them up a quickly as possible tomorrow.  Based on the attack on Whisper, plus the additional PR, I feel that it would be wise to get her to Whateley Academy where we can work with their staff to conduct any additional tests.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Reilly?” General Evans asks with a touch of hostility.

“Nothing against your facility or staff here, General, but for her safety, I would like to have her placed under the protection and relative seclusion of Whateley.  That way, the MCO and the press will not have any chance to access her.”

“Whateley will share their test results with us?” General Evans asks with some disbelief.

Mr. Reilly smiles. “I will make that point part of the negotiations for the additional funding that DARPA will be providing as part of her tuition package.”

General Evans’ expression turns more speculative before he grins. “That could be useful for our test facility.”

Ha!  Sold!  Damn, I mean, darn, Mr. Reilly is good.

That gets us back to the video.

Mr. Smith clears his throat.  “Thank you for the additional insight into Whisper’s powers.  It will help.  Shall we continue?” He asks.

The first time we watch the fight, my mom jumps with every hit and we have to take a short break at the end to help her stop crying.

“Oh my god, Bree. That was horrible. Those poor guys.” She says.

I am a bit surprised that she would say that.  Those ‘poor’ dudes tried to kill us, but at the same time; I can kind of see her point.  How many movies do you watch the good guy kick the bad guy’s ass from the good guy’s own eyes?  Were you can see and hear every sickening crunch and impact.  A real fight, not one choreographed where no one really hits each other.

I glance around the room and the only person who doesn’t look a little sick by what they just watched is Mr. Smith.  “Can you replay that again, please?” He asks.

We watch the video again. “Okay, rewind to where she gets shot.” He watches the part where I stepped on the dude’s leg and followed that up with an elbow in his face.  

I must admit that the blood and teeth flying out of his mouth along with the crack of his jaw breaking is a little upsetting and even I cringe a little.

“Again, but can you slow it down?” Mr. Smith asks.

Dr. Edmundson rewinds it again and starts that part over in slow motion.  It’s pretty darn cool to see, but at the same time the camera angle isn’t what I would want to see in a movie.

“Where did you learn that move from?” Mr. Smith asks, surprising me with his question.

At least now he’s not asking for me to repeat stuff over and over again. “Umm, Sensei Rogers, my Jujitsu teacher back home.” I say.

“Rogers?  Jason?” Mr. Smith asks.

I nod my head, surprised that he could guess his first name.

“He’s about six foot, light brown hair, blue eyes and a small circular scar over his left eye?” He asks.

“Yes, how?” I ask, surprised that he would know that. Sensei Rogers was in the Navy, but the Navy is kind of large. How could Mr. Smith know him so well?

“Well, that explains that.” Mr. Smith says.

Both Mr. Reilly and General Evans look to him for elaboration.  

“That move was also taught to me by her Sensei.  I didn’t understand how a 15 year old girl could know how to fight like she fought until I saw the video.  Her Sensei was also on one of my teams and he was a close combat instructor until he retired two years ago.  I knew that he wanted to retire some place that didn’t have any salt water beaches, but I never figured he would retire in New Mexico.”  Mr. Smith says with a grin.

“You mean to tell me that this young girl is a trained killer and no one knew that?” General Evans asks with some alarm.

I am little startled by that. What is it with military types?  First, I was a ‘trained assassin’ because I played a thief in GEO and now I am a ‘trained killer’ because I am studying jujitsu?  Maybe it makes a difference when your jujitsu instructor just happens to be an ex-military commando or something?  That is almost funny, but the part that really makes me feel weird, even though it shouldn’t, is when I am referred to as a ‘young girl’.

Yo, I am 15. Seriously, General Dude, I am not that young!