Heroes of Justice Part 3

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           Mark still acted more than willing to fully accept us as women, if you know what I mean. He was polite, but his actions let us know he was ready anytime we were. Shuddering, I informed him that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell, not that it did any good! Anza told me he was just being a normal guy, Yuk! I told her I had never been that way as a guy, but she just gave me a kiss and replied, “You were never a guy, luv.” Sigh.
 
Heroes of Justice

Part 3

by Grover

 
Part III

 


 
author's note: What you again? Reading the first two parts hasn’t chased you away? Ok, I must be doing something right! First the stuff you all know. This is fiction boys and girls. No person, place or thing is meant to be represented by what I’ve written. If I have, it is completely unintentional. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. For those who might recognize bits and pieces of what I’ve written, you are thanked for the fun we have all had gaming throughout the years. The rest of you who have offered encouragement and support by your comments and PM’s are thanked profusely! Big thanks goes out to Holly Happy Hart, Sephrena Miller, and Catherine Linda Michel for all that and more. Now I guess you want read this thing, huh? It’s Show Time!
 


Interlude

Slowly swinging around in the expensive executive style office with brandy snifter in hand, Persuader smiled at the man dressed in ULTIMATE blue entering the office atop the New Riverside Federal building.

Startled, the high ranking officer went for his side arm, but stopped upon seeing the big man in red’s sardonic smile.

“A little jumpy are we? So this is how our tax dollars are spent? I'm shocked I tell you, simply shocked!” Persuader’s droll tone indicated nothing of the kind.

“What are you doing in my office? How did you get past the safeguards and security?” the man in the battledress uniform demanded with clenched teeth.

“No greetings for an old friend? I'm hurt. No matter. I'm here with a message for you from our dear Imperious Leader.” He indicated a rather old fashioned wax sealed packet of papers on the large mahogany desk. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll self-destruct or something equally dramatic after you read them. No need to worry that anyone here will learn of your bargain.” Persuader stood.

Finding his voice, the owner of the office declared, “It was never part of any bargain for any of you just to appear here.”

Smiling Persuader answered, “Perhaps you can bring that up to our Beloved Tyrant for Life’s attention the next time you see him. As for me, I wouldn’t want to chance something like that, but that’s just me, you understand. On a personal note, I was also given a verbal message to pass along.”

After making a show of clearing his throat, and taking an exaggerated theatric pose, he pronounced, “And I quote, ’If you happen to more than entertain those ideas about turning double-agent, just remember we know where your family lives and can get to them just as easily as we got though the so-called protections of your office at ULTIMATE.’ End quote” the man in red finished.

Dismayed, the man who’d thought he had the last word in secure offices watched a glowing arch of rainbow colors appear. With a sardonic bow, Persuader stepped into it and disappeared. As the arch faded, the man in blue gave the packet of papers the same look he would a box of venomous snakes. Spotting the empty glass, he angrily threw the snifter into the wastebasket where it shattered. “Just how did I get mixed up in all of this?” agonized one of ULTIMATE’s top commanders in New Riverside. Outside, the city was beginning another day, unaware of one man’s lonely fall from grace.

Heroes of Justice: Back to School

Solemnly, the Major accepted our decision and told us we would begin Monday, so the rest of the week was ours to sort out our secret identities. His manservant was on his way with some necessities so we should expect some visitors. Question had arranged for a cover story that an eccentric had purchased the property, and if asked about the activity, we were to pass ourselves off as employees of a Mr. Roland.

For Anza and myself, we just gave Twin Peaks a call and left a message that we had found better paying jobs. Tom and Mark gave out a cover story that they were taking care of security for this Roland guy, so they too had it easy. Will and Morgan, well, someone had to have problems! I didn't get involved in it, but there was a thing about broken contracts and penalties from Channel 7 News. The helicopter was Will's, but he was acting as a subcontractor. The real world versus the comics, I guess. They did get it sorted in the end.

We moved what few belongings we had in our house into storage, or back to the Rent-for-a-Bundle store. That didn't take too long ,because we couldn't take too much back with us, bearing in mind we had limited space available. So of course we went shopping! Tom's trick with using our birthdays as PIN's for our debit cards worked for everyone else too, so armed with money, off we went!

We had a great time, and Cape and I helped out Anza and Morgan by resizing a few items for them. Of course I didn't need to purchase anything for me, but did buy some gifts and other such. Cape did try to shoplift a few things but I caught on and stopped it before it caused any trouble. I think it was only looking for attention and wanted me to catch it. Playing fetch with a dog would've been so much easier on the nerves.

Major Victory's manservant with a few necessities, turned into a convoy of fifteen RV's and trucks loaded down with everything from dishes to phased plasma rifles in the 40 watt range. A diminutive old Asian man got out of the first RV, and after talking to the Major, inspected our quarters, as well as the training areas.

While he was doing that the other 30 or 40 drivers and passengers started hooking up utilities for the RV's. I thought Huey, Dewey and Louie were going to lose their robotic minds with all the activity, but after someone thought to include them, they got right to work helping. I couldn't help but observe that nearly everyone had a family resemblance to the Major's manservant, whose name I learned was Chang. Keeping it in the family I suppose, but I was just glad he wasn't named Chung from a small village of assassins in North Korea.

Proclaiming the entire facility was insufficient, he grudgingly admitted it had potential. The last we saw of him, he was serenely delegating tasks to his extended family, while the Major was busy in one of the RV's, designing the training program.

That's when I noticed that local area building supply trucks were making deliveries to the far end of the railway tunnel we had seen on our way in. By this time it was the weekend and, while the guys were eager to go clubbing, I was happy to just catch a dinner and a movie with Anza. What can I say? I've always enjoyed such, so why should I change now?

I asked Anza how she felt about that, because I knew she loved the dancing and the night life, but she just muttered something about not letting me anywhere near booze and men. You think she was still jealous? Morgan had been taking it easy after her marathon shopping trip with us. I think she was evaluating just how she felt about being a girl and if she was going to come clean with the Major about the matter. It could be tough on her to stay a woman for the entire training period.

I did pick up the history book the Major recommended and splurged on a laptop. Almost as soon as I got it home, Reid, the AI, started berating me about what a piece of junk it was. I asked if it could do better. It of course replied it could and asked me what my needs were, Darn uppity machines! I broke down and told it I needed to be able access information on the web and other basic functions, such as a college student would need.

No that wasn't enough for it! It wanted to wager that, if it could do better, it wanted me to learn how to fly the helicopter. I told the cotton-picking thing that I didn't need better, just something basic was fine. Besides, I didn't need a helicopter to be able to fly. Eventually I gave in, as it kept cutting in while I was trying to web surf, just so it would leave me alone. Geez!

On Sunday we had a private ceremony celebrating our one full week as girls. I must admit I was a little sad that our quiet hole in the ground had turned as busy as a downtown street in Hong Kong. I did continue the ritual of leaving a plate of food in the conference room at night. When asked by Mr. Chang as to why, I simply said, ‘to appease the spirits.’ That was good enough for him, and he said no more about the subject. Someone had been eating that food but the only clue I could find about who it was one small fingerprint I found on the foil. ‘Curiouser and curiouser’ a girl named Alice once said.

I wanted to start reading my book but didn't have the time. Checking our old email addresses, I found them either unused or taken by someone else so no help there. Mostly we just kicked back, but from the grins on the guys faces, they must've been successful in their hunt for feminine companionship the night before. Even the somber Will, and the recently nasty Tom, had mellowed out and were upbeat.

All too soon it was Monday morning.

Not too surprising, and just as we had thought, Major Victory's idea of training was modeled on military basic training, with influences from more than one special warfare group. Anyone who has ever seen a movie about military life has a good idea what it was all about.

That is mostly because there were also classes on everything from first aid to how to defuse a bomb. It seemed Mr. Chang's extended family could provide an able instructor on just about any subject. One of the interesting variations from military training was the science classes. For us strong types it went into details about physical physics, while for Morgan it focused on how lasers worked and their limitations. In short, how our powers would interact with the world at large.

The classes were intermixed with exercises, Such things as sudden attacks by everything from black clad ninja’s, to hi-tech commandoes, among other ambushers. Afterwards we were grilled about numbers, weapons and descriptions. Morgan and I didn't have too much of a problem with the constant drilling and stress. It was much like our military days, except now we were in much better psychical condition to withstand the rigors. Anza, with her experience as an ER nurse, was also able to adapt quickly, but the boys weren't used to this kind of stuff. This isn't to say they had a hard time but rather since it something new to them, it took them longer to get into the groove.

Tom and Mark were very mechanical minded, and between the two them they did well at picking up using the weapons and other skills using devices. Will quickly became a master at causing mayhem with his hands and, as he became able to access his character's skills, was a expert outdoorsman. Heck, he was even able to fly the helicopter, despite Reid's dry comments to the contrary.

This all took time and a lot of practice. However, compared to learning all this for the first time, we picked it up much faster. Skills which our characters had possessed we excelled at very quickly. Others we became more proficient at along a more normal curve, but still quicker than average.

Getting up at Oh-dark-thirty became old real fast like. The routine and constant testing was relentless. For that first week in hell, at least we had a diversion of sorts. We found out what all those building supplies were for. The astonishing Mr. Chang revealed among his other talents, that of a home builder.

We've all seen that program on the TV where they build a house in just seven days. Mr. Chang did them one better by building a mansion. Did I mention the hanger, garage, and other support buildings he added to the existing facilities while he was at it? Somehow he got Huey, Dewey, and Louie, our robot sentries to help, along with more of their robotic cousins than I could count. I had kinda suspected that there was more to this place than what we could see, but hiding a small army of robots?

I asked Reid, our AI, about it, and he said he wasn't at liberty to speak about it. The darn thing was being snotty again, because it had won its bet with me over that darn laptop. What it presented me with was far beyond what I needed. It had more bells and whistles than I would ever use, but he also had included a learning function that would track what capabilities I used and would reconfigure itself to optimize those functions. So on top of everything else, I was taking flight training, but considering what I got in exchange, it was worth it. Besides, I’d always wanted to get my pilot's license, but my hearing had been so far below normal it wasn't possible.

The Major approved of my cross-training with Will and encouraged it. He even had the rest of us teaching classes, such as Anza and Morgan on first aid and me on what being a trained observer was all about. The new mansion gave us more space and we had what amounted to our own apartments. It was a reward for finishing what the Major called phase ‘A’, which was more or less testing and bringing out our previously unusable talents.

Going into phase B we still could expect to be jumped by armed men at any time, but we had classes on knowing our enemy, which entailed as much information as was available about known Syndicate enforcers and the mercenaries working with them. We moved into the advanced combat classes taught by more of Mr. Chang's family of experts, and became even more proficient in promoting mayhem with everything from bare hands to those phased plasma rifles I told you about earlier.

I remarked to Morgan one day after a training exercise in freeing hostages from a bank robbery, that this was very much like the training that Delta Force or SEALs go though. She replied that, as concentrated as the Major's course was, it would make their Hell Week, where they weed out undesirables and incompetents look like a cakewalk.

We had done everything wrong, of course, and were standing in the paintball splattered training area on our way to have the Major tell us just how badly and where we had screwed up. At the same time, Morgan was doing some cramming for a test, tuning her lasers into the infrared spectrum, making them invisible, lucky her!

I was scheduled for a hand to hand combat class with our dear Commandant, Major Victory. We girls had a chat with him about that 'aura' of his, and he had apologized to us. It was involuntary for him, but there were ways to reduce its effects. With him being the only instructor available for us to go all out with in combat, believe me, that made everyone happier, especially the boys!

Even more so because, to control that 'glow,' the Major had to be careful of how much energy he was exposed to. That also made him somewhat less powerful, but unfortunately for us, no less dangerous, because he regularly kicked us all around the Dojo. These sessions with him were more for forcing us to fully exert ourselves than any other reason.

The real combat classes like the simulated bank robbery, were team work exercises. Some were tests in helping each other get from point A to point B as fast as possible, while others involved sneaking into the quarry with full security activated. We learned that all of us were pretty good at sneaking about, but Will and his animal spirits had cornered the market. He'd learned how to call others besides that bear of his. I would tell what some of them were, but I think he would hurt me!

Anza and I had always made a good pair in combat, and now we added Morgan, with her laser powers. The two of them were kinda the main fire power and snipers when needed, with me playing safety, taking care of anyone that got too close. Mark and Will were our flankers, with the ever popular Tom playing cavalry and scout.

During our time of trial, the syndicate stayed active. Although the Warders managed to capture a rather deranged Elf-like parody named Sprite to add to the merc called Cazadora we’d caught in the mall parking lot, ULTIMATE still hadn't activated a Supersuit team to help with the problem. They had sent more of their dropship strike teams, however not to anyone's surprise, they did little good.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, the situation was still pretty grim in New Riverside. Being the only one with any intelligence analysis experience, I had picked out a pattern that concerned me. The few remaining diehard independents had banded together, and the Syndicate was hunting them down mercilessly. Violence was still happening with depressing regularity, but after checking records, I saw that the Syndicate’d had very few encounters with ULTIMATE’s strike teams.

The problem was that the few times they ran into each other, Syndicate enforcers deliberately avoided all out engagements with the strike teams. They just broke off and faded away. What's more, the strike teams had been most curiously unable to find any of those holdouts still in hiding. That suggested some nasty possibilities like corruption, within the ULTIMATE organization. I passed this on to the Major and the Warders, and with a sigh, closed up shop for Thanksgiving.

Just like with everything else we were learning, Major Victory just couldn't do anything halfway. The mansion was less than 3 weeks old, but it was decorated for the season. To call the spread that Mr. Chang and his army of cooks put on a feast, was an understatement. Several of the Warders showed, including Question and his wife. Joining them were eight others who we learned were old friends and war buddies. Later that day we were told they would be helping teach us in phase ‘C‘.

I wanted to know how many cotton-picking phases this ordeal had! Besides, Mike had been able to join us as well, and he was looking good. I mean that literally! He had lost a good 20 lbs and his limp was less pronounced. We’d been keeping in contact with emails about what was going on here with Major Victory, and he’d been making use of the Warder's state of the art virtual reality training sims, trying to learn anything that could help us.

When the Major caught us talking 'business' he put a quick end to that. Today was a day of thanks, and all work was to be shelved for today. Gathering the horde for the feast we all ate till we felt like we would pop. The Major made sure that Mr. Chang and his staff joined us, despite their protests. He said everyone could serve themselves, in that no nonsense way of his.

Afterwards almost everybody adjourned to watch the big game on the TV, but for some reason I was feeling a bit edgy. Mr. Chang's family made their escape and were busy with post dinner tasks, and I followed them to make a plate for my 'ghost'. Even Anza ribbed me a little about it, but I told her I just wanted some quiet time to read. I still hadn't gotten to that history book I’d bought, and this was the perfect time to kick back. She was just making sure all was cool with me, but I encouraged her to go and enjoy the rowdy activities. Lured by the yells of those whose team won the toss, she hurried away to witness the ritual carnage of American Football.

The old building where we'd stayed, when we first got to the Hole, had been refurbished into office space for the teachers and others, like my little Intelligence shop. The conference room was pretty much the same, and I opened up my book after placing the overflowing plate full of Thanksgiving fare on the end of the table.

One of the nice things about being a girl now, was being limber and small enough to curl myself into almost any chair. I still missed those 3 or 4 inches of height I'd lost, but there were some compensations. In the past I had always just left my offering, but I was still feeling unsettled for some reason. Back home I'd always found escaping into a good book a solace, and, after being run into the ground for the last 3 weeks or so, just zoning out was really seductive.

The book, “The Day the Seas Burned: the Story of Operation Downfall ” was written in a style much like the popular books about the D-Day landings and the far bridges of Operation Market Garden. It was very good, and I soon learned why the nuclear attacks at Hiroshima and Nagasaki had failed. In the days before the bombing, a Japanese mystic, who was a member of one of their warrior societies, much like the Allies superhero teams, had foretold a great ball of fire that would fall from the heavens and consume the city.

That morning the samurai Rising Sun arrived in Hiroshima to stop the coming disaster. One of the more powerful heroes of the war years, he had elemental fire at his command. Becoming aware of the American bomber, he was too late to stop the plane from dropping its lethal cargo, but he did keep the bomb from exploding.

Three days later he made another supreme effort that also stopped the Nagasaki attack. The Allies, disheartened by those failures, abandoned trying to use the hideously expensive weapons to force a surrender, and Operation Downfall, the Invasion of Japan was ordered.

Unknown to the Allies, Rising Sun had, in his efforts, suffered fatal radiation poisoning at Hiroshima and had sacrificed himself to save Nagasaki. The Russian invasion of Japanese occupied territories in China and Korea that began during this time, tempted the Japanese Government to surrender, but the circumstances of Rising Sun's death encouraged them to think that by sacrificing themselves, all was not lost.

Well, that answered why the A-bombs had failed. I looked to the index and was appalled at the casualty figures. Over a million Allied dead, and the number of Japanese dead was far more than that. The title of the book came from the thousands of Kamikazes that hit the Allied fleets in waves of hundreds at a time. Even worse, the US and Great Britain had fallen into conflict with Soviet Forces in Korea.

The US and the UK had landed troops at Inchon which, in our world, had resulted in a divided nation. Due to foolish mistakes on both sides and the refusal of the Kremlin to back down open conflict had broken out. That conflict had ended when their own invasion of the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido had failed. It was an unfortunate omen of what was to come just a few years later when North Korea invaded the southern peninsula.

That's when Cape gently tapped me on my shoulder. Glancing up I saw the wall raise, silently revealing a secret passage deeper into the hill. I pretended to continue reading as a small figure tentatively peered though into the conference room.

My word, this was just a child! I really wasn't sure if it was a girl or boy at first, but it was painfully thin and had ragged, shoulder length hair that looked to have been hacked off by a cleaver. Half the child's face was obscured, and the poor thing looked and smelled as if its last bath was far too long ago. Barefoot, it was dressed in an overly large pair of coveralls, with the sleeves and cuffs rolled. The single eye I could see was watching me very intently, but moved slowly towards the overfull Thanksgiving plate with a purpose.

Picking up the plate it moved backwards, as if expecting to be jumped at anytime. Waiting till it was almost in the secret passage, I slowly lowered my book.

She, yes it was a she… I decided, stopped, frozen like some wild thing trapped in the lights.

I as softly as I could, “You're welcome. Happy Thanksgiving.”

She jumped at the sound, but didn't flee as I was afraid she might. So softly I wasn't even sure I heard it, she replied, “Thank you.” and the door closed, keeping her secrets.

“BUZZZZZ!” When my communicator went off I felt a surge of alarm from Anza that nearly made me wet myself!

“Mystery here,” I answered, already heading out, book in hand.

“Get up here! Something has happened!” Morgan ordered.

“On the way!” I half-ran, half-flew into the mansion and found the game preempted by a news flash. Damn! The end of the world must be nigh for them to do that! Question, the rest of the Warders and Will passed me running full out to Reid the Chopper, having left their team transport at its base. Will was the fastest way back to New Riverside for the Warders.

Sliding to a stop, everyone was clustered about the set. A frantic reporter was yelling into his mike over the explosions of taking place behind him. Panning up, the camera showed a typical ugly Federal office building, with flames coming from the building's upper floor windows.

“That's where they held me. ULTIMATE headquarters in New Riverside.” Mike whispered with his eyes locked on the TV.

With an ear splitting “WHOOSH!” the flames all died at once, leaving nothing but smoky wisps floating from the upper levels of the building. The reason why became clear as a flaming apparition like the Human Blowtorch flew up, allowing a pair of black painted helicopters to land on the roof. The camera showed flashes of gunfire from the now darkened windows, and debris rained down from the constant explosions. With a shock, I saw that some of that debris was bodies, as one wounded blue armored trooper fell the twenty some odd stories onto a car, causing it to explode in a shower of glass!

I grabbed Morgan's arm, but she looked at Major Victory and gave a sad shake of her head.

The other guests were watching the tragedy as well, most with sadness, some with anger.

Major Victory just stood there, expressionless. Finally, acknowledging us, he said softly, “You aren't ready and this will be over before they can get there.” Throwing his head at our helicopter, its red lined engine roaring as it sped off into the sky.

“What would you say, Geoff?” he asked a man with gray at his temples. “Extra pilots for the dropships onboard those two helos that just landed following the assault?”

Geoff responded, “If it’s a mass breakout, yes. A Blaster with fire to trigger the fire alarms and clear the upper floors, while their strikers take out the security stations and free the prisoners. He then secures the flight deck, and the extra pilots land, and fly out the escapees in ULTIMATE's own aircraft. Risky, but it simplifies the logistics.”

The TV made it look like a war zone, with the streams of tracer fire and explosions. A news helicopter, Will's and Morgan's replacements, showed glimpses of the armored troopers fighting for their lives. They proved no match for the villains who were smashing all in their path. I think I saw Big Red, our sparring partner from the mall, but I couldn't be sure.

True to the Major's prediction, we could see the pirated dropships lift from the roof a short time later. Playing rear guard, a somewhat familiar large goon leaped the 20 stories from the ravaged building to the ground, shattering the pavement on landing. We could see Will's Chopper and the Warders racing to the scene, but they were too late, as the figure churned into the earth and disappeared.

“Man Mountain,” someone snorted. “At least now we know what happened to him. Just another brick for the Syndicate.”

I hung my head as the TV revealed in the strobing lights of the emergency vehicles, just how bad this was. “Well, so much for my theory.”

The Major touched my shoulder, “Not at all, Mystery. In fact this validates something is seriously amiss with ULTIMATE here.”

He turned to Geoff, “She has some intelligence training and spotted a trend suggesting a mole within ULTIMATE.”

He pulled himself up straight. “Colonel Geoff Stone, late of Her Majesty's Special Air Service. Not knowing all the details, I tend to be in agreement. A holiday, the least capable personnel on duty, and at a time when they are the most distracted. Tailor-made for a mole to reasonably claim they were blameless. It would be an excellent way to throw an analyst like yourself off the scent,” he postulated.

He then continued, saying “You were right to call on my services, Major. That operation was as professional as any of our chaps could have managed. I've never liked the red tape ULTIMATE has tied themselves up in. Excuse me, Miss. Officially they are the only part of any government that is allowed to enlist extraordinarily endowed individuals like yourselves. Like the SALT treaties were intended to limit nuclear weapons during the Cold War, it was to do the same with those with meta, or super powers. Of course nearly everyone has developed ways of getting around that clause. What it really does, is limit the resources any super team has. I don't mean secret headquarters, and gadgets from bad spy movies, but like the Major has done here. Advanced training and tactics that usually only a government has the resources to provide.”

He gestured at the grim scene still playing, “Most criminal organizations lack the discipline to manage this, and keep their activities secret. Those with the knowledge are usually traceable and so events like this are rare. Even you Yanks, and how strange you get during your election years, can't explain why a Superpowered Reaction Team hasn't been sent here yet. No, something is amiss and I agree these lads and lasses seem to be our best bet for a response.”

My companions and I were nervous about the attention when we noticed everyone in the room had been listening to the SAS Colonel’s lecture. First, all the military style stuff, ninjas and now even SAS trainers? Whatever happened to danger rooms and the colorful life of the hero?

Okay, that's a stupid question, because I know exactly what happened to it. This was not a game or a good natured brawl, but something deadly serious. We were going though with all of this because we wanted every advantage we could get our hands on. No fair fights, and kissing and making up afterwards as if this was professional wrestling or something.

No, we were not being drilled into becoming cold-blooded killers, but realizing that, because of our powers, we had more options open to us than other people might. Our training was, like that of police officers, teaching us to use other means when we could, but if there was no other way to keep others from harm, then so be it.

The rest of the evening was a lost cause, but we did hang out with Mike until the Warders came back to claim him. They stayed, helping find the wounded, and doing what they could. Will even helped with a couple trips to the hospital, playing medivac.

Mike and Tom did have a long talk, and I for one, was praying hard that it helped. Tom still was having problems with us, but he'd put it away somehow. The part that sucked, was that I was an empath, and could feel the conflict within him. As far as I could tell he just couldn't help how he felt, even when he tried not to. It was just emotions I was sensing, but still had no clue as to why. Anza had turned apathetic as far as Tom was concerned. “Just another asshole in the world,” was how she thought of him. Me, I was struck with knowing he was hurting over this, and didn’t have the vaguest clue how to help. Sometimes life just plain sucks!

Mark still acted more than willing to fully accept us as women, if you know what I mean. He was polite, but his actions let us know he was ready anytime we were. Shuddering, I informed him that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell, not that it did any good! Anza told me he was just being a normal guy, Yuk! I told her I had never been that way as a guy, but she just gave me a kiss and replied, “You were never a guy, luv.” Sigh.

Safe in each others arms we fell asleep, letting our care for each other chase away the terrible events of the day while reliving the pleasant ones.

***

She ate so much she could hardly breathe. The computer showed her something had upset the strangers, but she didn't know or understand exactly what had happened. The restrictive learning functions would only let her access just so much. Thinking back, it still made her shake when she thought about the chance she had taken tonight. She had even spoken to the long haired one so like Nurse. Well, she had talked with computer before, but that wasn't the same.

Not knowing why some part of her so missed the hugs and smiles Nurse used to give her, she curled up in a tight knot and gently cried herself to sleep.

Heroes of Justice: Tests

The Major had promised us the weekend after Thanksgiving off for a little R & R. That’s rest and relaxation, for you non-military types. Of course it being Black Friday, the best shopping day of the year, you just know what most of us had in mind. However, we were not going to New Riverside. Courtesy of Reid the Chopper, New York City was only a few hours away. New Riverside was just too unsettled right now, and he thought we had less chance of getting into trouble in the Big Apple.

He didn't know us very well, did he? Okay, nothing major did happen, and we all had a great time, even if Mike couldn't come along. I did ask one of the numerous Changs to leave food for my ghost before leaving. On the way to our adventure I hashed a few things out with Reid. Using my laptop I had a private chat with him about my 'ghost'.

Reid said honestly he didn't know there was a young girl hiding in the old base. He'd known someone was, but strangely, the computer treated her like one of its own peripherals. What it could tell me was that the base had belonged to a crazed meta-scientist who had no moral qualms about using human research subjects, willing or not. This Dr. Vole had been taken down by the Warders about four years ago. They had, with the help of a telepath, cleared the base. Rather than demolish it, they had decided to use it as an auxiliary base that the heavy handed ULTIMATE knew nothing about.

Even last night I had felt nothing, using my empathy from my 'ghost', so she either knew how to shield her mind, or had some sort of natural protection. That would explain why the Warder's telepath had found nothing. Reid added that Dr. Vole’s mutation had left his body deformed, and he was driven to try and correct that. Presently the dear doctor was serving several consecutive life terms in prison for murder, kidnapping and numerous other convictions.

Okay. Right then I made a promise to myself to try and do more for my ghost. Maybe I could pick up something for my 'ghost' to wear that was nicer than an oversized ragged jumpsuit. Having made that decision, I relaxed and enjoyed the flight.

I'm not going to go into details about our trip, except to say it was a blast! It was the first time most us had visited the Big Apple. We did get into trouble, but got out of it as well. Much money was spent, and many gifts were shipped back to our humble hole in the ground.

Wouldn’t you know it? We got our first visit from Aunt Flo! It wasn’t surprising that we were synchronized, even for our introduction to the icky part about being all woman because of our bond. I freaked out a little seeing blood coming from down there. Anza, on the other hand, rejoiced, seeing it as the final proof that she was finally as she always should have been. There were some emotional fireworks because of the moodiness, and some generally feeling crappy, but mostly our bond allowed us to comfort and support each other. It might've been a better experience if our periods hadn't decided to visit us, but as much as an ordeal that was, we were determined to live this trip to the hilt and we did! Thank Gawd for Midol!

To my shock, and to the alarm of my companions, Reid and Will had me fly us back home to the Hole. It served as my certification flight, or as close as we could come to one, while keeping our activities secret. Will didn't have a problem, because his secret ID already had a pilot's license, but we would have to find time for me to take the test in my civilian ID. I think though, I'll forget some of the combat maneuvers Reid taught me until after I pass my test.

Isn't that the way life works? Climbing out of the Long Ranger, I was feeling pretty good. The flight had gone well and I had put us down nice and easy. Reid said Will was a better instrument flier than I was, but I had a very nice 'seat of the pants' or instinctive feel for flying. Then there was him standing stone faced, waiting for us, and I just knew the Major came bearing bad news.

“What!!!” all of us exclaimed in shock. With a flick of his finger, Major Victory started the security camera footage of what the News services were calling, ‘The Thanksgiving Day Massacre.’ There, on the large screen TV, was me, busily kicking the butt out of some poor, blue uniformed schmuck guarding their prisoners. Just so I didn't feel alone, there was Lady Diamond, and Renegade to help me.

The problem was, we were innocent, innocent, I tell you! We didn't do it! We were being framed, I tell you!

Major Victory knew that, because of course we had spent Thanksgiving dinner with him, and were watching the game with him at the time. The problem was, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, we were now officially bad guys on the most wanted list!

Colonel Stone just smiled as if he'd gotten Christmas a month early. With his hands clasped him behind himself, “Masterful work, my dear! You've given us our first real lead in this case.”

A little stunned, I wondered just what he was talking about, “Excuse me, but didn't you see that? We're being framed, and now have arrest warrants out for us!”

Okay, maybe I was freaking out a little here, but so was the rest of our gang. Right, maybe gang was the wrong word to use here! All of us were in shock, and even the ever calm and rational Morgan was indignant.

The Colonel still smiling insufferably continued, “This confirms your theory. There wasn't a single eyewitness, so this tape is the sole evidence against you. It is almost certain that our mole planted this, and those with security access to do so makes for a quite small list. Question's draconian security measures have given us an advantage. It seems the Syndicate believes you are still hiding. Instead, you have some very reputable souls to support your claims of innocence ”

He addressed us all, “I know this is a new experience for you, but I can assure you that you are not alone in your task. A group of villains as well organized and trained as these chaps is something we take very seriously indeed.”

Giving me a wink, “It would be much same reaction as if a group of terrorists had nuclear devices. This is a threat any government would take seriously, for such could inflict unspeakable harm upon the world. I know my companions and I might seem over the hill to youngsters like yourselves, but when we speak, those who know, listen.”

On that happy note we went off to unpack from our trip and were considerably subdued. We couldn't bring many of our purchases back with us, but instead were having them shipped. For myself, I needed very little in the way of clothing, leaving that to Cape. I did find a few precious jumpers that I just had to have for my ghost. Cape had a great eye for sizes and, although it was tempting to get a few dresses, the child might never had worn them before. So I settled on a couple of jumpers and some cute but simple sandals.

Anza had been giving me the eye, watching me, and I think she was beginning to believe that my ghost was real. Feeding wandering spirits was one thing, but buying clothes for them? She was developing a blind spot that, feeling that if she couldn't sense someone with her powers, then there was nothing there. Hey, I admit my ghost could be a robot or something else that Anza or my powers couldn’t find, but one that ate like a starving kid? Besides, since I didn't buy much for myself, it was fun shopping for gifts for others.

That night I left one of the jumpers and a pair of sandals along with my usual offering of food. I was relived to find the next morning, that my offering had been accepted, except for the sandals which had been left behind. Oh well, two out of three isn’t bad!

Our schedule changed some the next day. Yes we still had advanced individual training and joint team problems, but we were also put to work actively investigating the Syndicate. I had already done some work of the work by mapping out their encounters, which had given us a clue to the mole. Now the rest of the crew was put to work, too.

Tom's talents had really blossomed under his tutors, and our maps grew with the information he provided. It only made sense, with him being a Batguy like character. He had plenty of detective oriented abilities and he was learning more about using them everyday.

Mark's Wolfen also had all kinds of useful things that started making themselves known during our investigation. His character's secret ID had been a security specialist. Along with Morgan, the two of them were like a walking forensics laboratory. What he couldn't scent, she could see. You’ve seen those TV shows using UV light to reveal blood stains and a host of other clues? Morgan, with her crystal peepers, could do the same without the use of a lab. Adding that to Tom's knowledge, we started narrowing down where our mysterious Syndicate chief had his throne.

Don't think I'm leaving out my lover. With her mental powers she was an interrogator bar none. That was just part of all she could do. She'd taking classes from one of the Chang's who was a doctor in Chinese medicine, and he was teaching her how to adapt her powers to the practice of medicine. While not a fully trained doctor, some of things she could accomplish were almost miraculous, since it was entirely non-invasive. If that wasn't enough, she had any number of lesser abilities, like object reading and finding. The problem was, she was very powerful, and if she used her powers fully, other telepaths would pick up on it, so she had to keep a low profile.

It was a bit like two submarines playing a game of cat and mouse. They each have powerful sonar that can detect the other, but if they use it, they reveal their location to anyone listening. So instead they sulk, listening and waiting for the other to make the first mistake.

Of course all this was with some risk as we began making sorties out of our humble hole in the ground. We carefully planned each trip and were limited to what the assigned investigators missed, except for Anza of course, who needed close contact to read minds.

Back at our humble hole, Colonel Stone was teaching us advanced tactics, and how to plan operations. More to the point, what to do when, predictably, a plan failed. When to abort and when to improvise. He was an unforgiving taskmaster, but he was big on the SAS motto, 'Those who dare, win.'

“Be creative! Thinking outside the box is the best way to outfox your opponents. The military is often accused of being uncreative and of being overly fond of brute force. Ladies and Gentlemen, I have grown to know you, and you have become very good in an extremely short time. Some of that is due to your unusual origin, but some is just pure intelligence and ability.

“Any operation is vulnerable to changes, and there is always the element of chance. What we've been doing is to try our very best to make you better at calculating the odds than your adversaries. This Syndicate is well financed and has access to resources that most countries lack. We are seeing signs that it is beginning to expand its influence to other large cities.

“Recent pressure over the unfortunate events has prompted ULTIMATE to dispatch their Meta Reaction Team One. What the Syndicate's reaction is going to be is unknown, but I can make some guesses. Their activities are going to become more public and then after some epic battle, the Syndicate is going to be defeated. This will be done in such a way that it will leave no bodies, or perhaps a unidentified one or two. Our mole will, perhaps, claim to be responsible, ensuring his rise in the bureaucracy, while in reality the disease will have spread to even more cities.

“So Ladies and Gentlemen, we do have a schedule. Before this happens we need to end this, and we are ready to support you when that happens. Dismissed!”

Despite the gloomy forecast of our instructors, we were cheerful. Anza and I were looking forward to our first Christmas together just a week away. The guys, particularity Tom, seemed happy and were getting into the spirit of the season.

The Major had provided a Christmas tree, that is if you could call that behemoth he chopped down, a Christmas tree. It barely fit though the double doors and was twenty feet tall if it was an inch! Everyone had a wonderful time decorating it, with even the Chang family’s horde of youngsters getting in on the act. I never did figure out if they were Christians, or Buddhists, but everyone was happy, so why worry about it?

Walking back with the rest of our crew, I saw Tom showing Mark a gift he'd gotten for a girl he'd been seeing on our weekends off. It was a very pricey looking necklace. Now I was curious, because I thought he had a fiancé back home, but this looked kinda serious.

Then Mark showed Tom his brooch for his girlfriend. This all surprised me because they'd been going to this local club most weekends for the last four or five weeks, but I hadn't known they'd been seeing the same women all that time.

Will had gone out with one of Chang's numerous granddaughters, but that had come to a sudden stop when the elder Chang had objected. Personally I would've stopped the first time she came at me with a sword, since she was one of the ninjas that helped train us, and was now working with us.

Mr. Chang had an old fashioned view of such things, and that was that. However I still caught the two of them giving each other the look, if you know what I mean. Anza and I had talked about this, but as much as we wanted to play matchmaker for Will, Mr. Chang was a formidable foe!

I still suspected that Will had gotten his ninja a gift, but was keeping it low key if you know what I mean. Having my own problems with gift giving was keeping me busy. How do you keep secrets from a telepath? One answer is, you don't. I had gotten her a lot of what I thought was cute stuff, that I thought she would like. I tried not to think about my real gift for her that was something special. If she had seen anything, it was just part of what I had planned, or so I hoped.

We had made it about halfway back to the mansion when Cape started warning me that something bad was on the way. Not breaking stride, I alerted Morgan and Will who were within touch, while letting Anza know with our link. They passed it on to Mark and Tom. If anyone had been looking, we just looked to have shared a joke.

We weren't in costume, but really didn't need to be, with our military style clothing we wore for training serving the same purpose. Most of us didn't need much in the way of gear, but the stuff we were wearing weighed the same. Tom, who was our gadgetmaster, had all his toys in the exact same locations on his fatigues as on his costume. The Major insisted upon us being prepared at all times.

Even though Cape had me in modern looking gear, it had the same characteristics as my medieval style costume. Cape, being fashion conscious as always, had objected but in the end had given in. Well sorta, because the underwear it had insisted on decking me out in, underneath this drab stuff, still made Anza pant every night.

The guys slipped their gifts into pockets and, like the rest of us started looking for the nature of the trouble. Whatever it was had caught us walking in the open, so ninjas were most likely out, but not so, snipers. Anza raised her TK shield which, at low power, was invisible, while the guys, still acting like they were joking, scanned the area for trouble.

I had only a split second of warning before a steel vice grabbed my arm and threw me into the guys! Well, tried to, because Cape wrapped around his hand, binding us together. Using that velocity, I swung around and piled-drove both legs into his face. He staggered back, but then tried to shake me off his arm like a bug!

I heard the sounds of the others in combat, but was so busy holding on to Mr. Shaky Hands, I couldn't say anything. Whee! What a ride!

Mark yelled out, “Shooter, lethal!”

Anza more calmly, “Sword, lethal.”

Tom reverted back to Streeter speak, “Shocker.”

Morgan simply, “Flier.” She had been picked up and thrown into the air!

Will grunted, “Invisible.”

Then there was me! “Briiickkk!!!!” I responded, while dopplering in and out during my mad swings.

This is where being drilled for weeks on end was going to help, as we all dropped to the ground. All but one, Lady Diamond, who was still falling. A few weeks ago all she could've done was pulse and try to blind our foes. Now, however, she flashed a laser into each of their eyes. Yeah the beams were broad, and so lacked power, because her accuracy shooting at six different target wasn't that good. It was powerful enough to leave afterimages even with protection or with them closed.

Will reached out and traded places with Mark, who had shifted to Wolfen. With a twitching nose, he went after the invisible man. Anza rolled onto her back and nabbed Morgan, and the winged flier, with her TK. Dependent on his wings for flight, he couldn't fight her and fell limp.

Morgan snapped off another beam at Tom's electrical foe. She was not trying to damage or blind Tom’s opponent, but to ionize the air between them. The blaster let fly with another bolt that, instead of arcing for Tom, followed the beam's ionizaition trail up and Morgan simply absorbed most it. The rest was unable to effect her crystalline body.

Tom stepped in front of Anza and, with his tonfa, sparred with the now blind swordswoman, not that it seemed slow her down much. The spinning dervish’s blades striking Streeter’s whirling tonfas sounded like a buzz saw hitting a nail! Even blind, she tried to get past him but with his reflexes and tools, that was not going to happen today!

Cape and I didn't bother getting to our feet. We flew between Will's legs as he grew to Renegade size just as the blinded shooter put a double-tap into him, right where Wolfen's heart would've been. For Renegade it might have tickled, but he backflipped, slamming a size 14 boot into the guy who had grabbed me.

I smashed into the shooter, who like all of these guys, was dressed in urban camouflage outfits, but before she could hit the ground, she disappeared! Having sparred with far too many bloody ninjas of late, I blocked the blow she threw at me after rematerializing behind me.

“Shooter, T-port,” I sang out, as she and I fought. She was using some kind of Gun-Fu technique, using her pistols as clubs while trying to get off a shot. Me, I was seeing stars because she had fired off a shot right beside my head. This bitch was playing for keeps, because the concussion from a shot that close can kill, even if just using blanks.

Cape had tried to engulf her a few times, but she did her ghost thing and slipped out. The next time she ghosted, I dropped flat and Cape made me disappear. Well kinda, by making my clothes match the ground almost exactly. It wasn't perfect, but if I didn't move, it came close.

While she looked around for me after she reappeared, I hit her with a sucker punch that ended this little bout. “Mystery, clear!”

Other shouts rang out, “Esperanza, clear”

“Diamond, clear!” said Morgan, kneeling near the unconscious blaster whose body was still sending off electrical arcs. “Streeter, break, break, break!”

Tom rapidly backstepped from the whirling dervish as Morgan's beam conducted the last of her adversary's energy arcing to the swordswoman's blade, shocking her into unconsciousness.

“Streeter, clear!” Tom yelled, pulling a canister from his belt. “Wolfen break, break, break!”

Wolfen leaped upwards, and Tom rolled his gift underneath him, releasing thousands of small globes of a slick lubricant. Wolfen, landing, spun around on all fours like a dog on a waxed floor. His dance partner had a lot worse problems, but with great skill kept her feet, although it revealed her position. With a not so graceful pounce, Wolfen landed on her chest, displaying his claws and teeth, and she chose the better part of valor and surrendered

“Wolfen, clear!”

Keeping at ground level, I zoomed up behind the brick, who was matching Renegade in a slug-fest that sounded like someone playing the 1812 Overture by dropping anvils. I used to hate this as a kid, but turnabout was fair play as I whispered, “Push” to Will, over our radio link. With me kneeling behind the brick, he fell, as Renegade gave him a shove.

To give him credit he tried to kick back up, but Cape and I had his feet tangled. Renegade jumped him and, after a few failed attempts to break free, he too surrendered.

“Renegade, clear” Will breathed out, winded from the fight.

I don't think any of us was surprised when Major Victory and Colonel Stone walked up with clipboards in hand. It hadn't been too hard to figure out who these masked mystery men were, but still, when Question and the rest of the Warders took off their disguises, it felt good to know we had more than held our own against an experienced group.

Medical help was there for Enigma, whom I had cold cocked, and for Alara the swordswoman, who was one of the Warder's auxiliaries. Conductress had a nasty bruise where a left cross from Lady Diamond had put her down for the count. Wraith, the invisible martial artist and Wolfen both needed help escaping and cleaning up from Streeter’s ultra-slick lubricant.

I did feel maybe a little guilty, at how hard we'd put them down, but the three silver blobs on Mark's bulletproof vest over where Wolfen's heart would have been, not to mention my still ringing ears, didn't make me lose any sleep over it. They wanted us to believe this was real and lethal? Well that's what they got.

The Major and Anza used their special skills to heal them, but I was beginning to understand what Colonel Stone was talking about now regarding ability and skills. Back home in the Whatever-Men 2 movie, a skilled mutant with teleportation powers had fought his way into the Whitehouse and could've killed the President.

Most comicbooks have the superheroes mostly just whaling on each other one of them drops. Even their teams, such as the Revengers or the Honor League, that did have training together were more like professional wrestling tag team than the very tight teamwork and trust of a special operations team.

From my military intelligence days, I knew Special Operation troops were seen as strategic resources. It is not easy or cheap to find someone capable, and train them. The trainers themselves need support and housing. The trainee has to have equipment and even more support. Everything from ranges and locations that can guarantee privacy, to mock-ups for aircraft, banks, embassies and other high threat targets

Colonel Stone had suggested that the nations that could, did have Meta-human military teams despite of agreements saying otherwise. Not only that, but here, they were regarded as the same as nuclear weapons. So, like I said, I was beginning to grok why!

Of course, in the debrief, as our teachers pointed out our mistakes and those of our sparring partners, the Warders asked why we made the choices we had. I got some criticism over hanging onto Question's arm, since he could've just used me as a club. This time he'd been surprised, but someone else in a similar position might not have been.

When asked what I thought our biggest mistake was, I said it was in deciding the nature of the threat. Thinking it was snipers, we had clustered behind Renegade as the only cover there in the open. Instead, their invisibles and teleporter had ambushed us in a nice tight group. Question had picked me as being the one most likely to do the most damage to everyone else, that he could pick up and throw. Fortunately this bowling ball had stuck to his fingers, but he’d had an opportunity to take out half our team all at once.

The Warders were interested in our communications method of calling our foes. Switching adversaries wasn't new to them, but using it the way we did, was. Morgan, giving our teachers a glance to make sure she wasn't breaking a taboo, explained that each Warder must have had a plan, deciding who they were going to attack. We had deliberately foiled that.

What Morgan didn't tell them was, we had a simple matrix deciding who was best against each threat, so we wouldn’t trip each other up. Bricks are one of my choices, but I changed, not because I couldn't deal with Question, but to bring ruin to their plans. Frankly I'm just as glad, because he is one tough mother!

Then those Sweet Old Bobs dropped their bomb! We were finished! Graduation YAY!!!

Major Victory solemnly awarded each of us, as we stood at attention, with a small silver pin with the Greek symbol of omega upon it. No diplomas, black gowns with funny shaped hats, just the symbol of his old commando unit and a handshake. He told us we still would be training, but now the mission would take precedence over the education.

We went off to shower and change for the party he'd promised us. Out of nowhere, the amazing Mr. Chang struck again. He had kept the preparations from us and, while we were fighting and receiving our omega pins, the wraps had come off. Under the cover of a Christmas ball, the Major, using his alias as Mr. Roland, had invited many of the shakers and movers of New Riverside to his Mansion.

Anza, of course, was thrilled from the top of her beautiful hair down to her lovely toenails! I swear that girl loves to dress to the nines! The problem, was that Cape was all too fond of dressing its favorite doll, me, in the same kinda ways! Admiring myself in the mirror is one thing, but walking around like that for hours is something else entirely.

Part of our cover was that we were the personal assistants to Mr. Roland. Very personal, if you know what I mean. So we were fixed up as a matched set, with our gowns to accent her dusky beauty, while Cape highlighted my paleness even more than usual. I swear, Cape enjoys this too much, as it covered up my few freckles and lightened my hair to more blond than strawberry. My winter, to her summer so to speak.

Going downstairs we got Mark real good! He was grumbling, “How is this a reward since I had to work?” His cover, along with Tom's, was providing security for Mr. Roland, so he had trouble seeing just how this party was a good thing.

Coming up behind him, Anza whispered in his ear, “The reward for a job well done is just another dirty job.”

When he turned around to make another complaint, he got his first look at our attire for the evening. To his credit, he didn't fall all the way down the stairs, but the expression on his face was almost worth all the ogling he'd done the last few weeks.

While he was hanging on the banister trying to stand, “See something you like?” Anza asked, passing him with his mouth open.

I stopped beside him, “You’d better get that repaired,” flicking a painted nail at his torn tux while arching a brow.

Cheating outrageously, we used our mental bond to sync our slinky walk down the stairs, leaving Mark speechless. As soon as we entered the next room we broke into giggles! Lin, one of Mr. Chang's many granddaughters and Will's forlorn romantic crush, had gotten the whole thing on her camera phone. I promised her and Anza I would get some of the footage framed. ‘I am woman, watch me get revenge!’

It hadn't go unnoticed by either one of us, that Mark and Tom had to work tonight. Okay, the real security was being done by one of Mr. Chang's many grandsons, no doubt by one of those Ninja types we‘d spared with so often. Okay, I bet someone is asking, ‘if Mr. Chang is Chinese why all the Ninjas, since they are a Japanese institution?’ I had asked him that very question one day after a spirited ambush by his black suited relatives, coming out from behind every bush and tree. His response was that if Ninjas wanted to be a secret clan of deadly assassins they needed to work harder. Looking me in the eye, Mr. Chang asked me, “What do you call secret deadly Chinese assassins?”

I answered, “I don't know.”

With a serene smile he replied, “Exactly so.” and walked away.

How could you argue with such logic?

Mr. Chang, as our instructor for all things involving high society and protocol, met all of us in the front room that had become a ballroom, festooned in Christmas decorations. All of us had been taken by surprise by this Winter Ball. There was a lesson here, of course, that our instructor Mr. Chang made sure we learned. He pointed out the things we’d missed and should've paid attention to, and why it was important.

If we were part of any organization, we would be depending upon our support people. Initiative on their part was a valued quality, but it was we who would be ultimately held responsible. There were many reasons why they would want to keep things from us, most of them bad. Not all, mind you, because more than one surprise party had been spoiled by suspicious bosses. Corruption, profiteering and infiltrators were all possible dangers.

Then he moved to brief us about our parts at the party tonight. He covered everything from security precautions, to what if the worst happened, as well as who to pay special attention to. The Warders would be attending, along with the cream of New Riverside’s society, including the Mayor. Also among our guests were the Colonel's suspects for framing us, a list he'd been able to narrow down to just five.

Then there was the ULTIMATE supersuit squad, who would be making an appearance, and just to keep things lively there was the Big Boss list that led the list of possible suspects as the Syndicate's leader.

We at least had a list, but didn't have a lot of confidence in it. There wasn't enough information to give enough parameters. For that matter, one of the reasons for this party, besides supposedly being a graduation party for us, was to help deflect ULTIMATE and the Syndicate’s suspicions of Mr. Roland’s activities. Inviting everyone who was anyone, to see just what he'd done in the old quarry would make him seem just another rich eccentric.

Mr. Chang expected folks to poke around. Heck, he was even going to encourage it. I wished them luck finding anything, since Mr. Chang had built this place from the ground up, using decades of knowledge about keeping things hidden. Even our own rooms had secret compartments to hide stuff that didn't fit our covers. Let me tell you, it is embarrassing to have to ask one the staff how to find that darn secret latch for the second or third time.

For our assignments, Anza and I were to be eye candy and hang on Mr. Roland's arm for the evening. Of course having a telepath and a empath whispering secrets into the bosses ear was a useful perk. Even though our days had been filled with studying a book in one hand while fighting off everything from sword wielding and assault rifle armed assassins with the other, we'd been introduced to the social arts as well.

I was worried that with that damning video of me, all this would not help throw off suspicions, but just the opposite. After all just how many 5'4” mutant, blond, bombshells are there running around? That wasn't as much an issue as I'd thought because, to my surprise, I did have a record with ULTIMATE as a registered meta after all.

According to the Siegel and Schuster Scale they used, I was an Alpha Class Meta which meant I was as physically fit, healthy and as intelligent as the top 1% of the population. Hah!, I’d always known the good looking, all too perfect, honor roll jocks and cheerleaders couldn’t really be human!

My strength and agility were rated at Beta, indicating I had slightly enhanced strength and agility, placing me at the top of human potential. On their rating scale, Gamma was for mental and physical abilities above normal humans, while Epsilon was for those significantly above those human maximums. The last category was Omega, whose indicated abilities were difficult to measure or impossible to determine with any confidence.

Of course my file was nowhere near my reality, not to mention the complete fiction of my being a high school dropout and drug user. Anza's record was also a fantasy, but Mr. Chang pointed out that a wealthy man like Mr. Roland would use someone like the two of us for body guards as well as status symbols. Even low category mutants tended to be very attractive, excepting those whose mutation warped them into such bizarre forms that they sometimes didn’t even survive the experience of changing.

Morgan, who had come clean about his dual nature, was back in male mode as a spokesman for Mr. Roland and would be mingling during the party. Mark and Tom you already know about, but Will would be spending time with our movers and shakers drivers and the rest of the hired help.

By the time our guests started arriving I had worked myself up pretty good. I'd always been a wallflower at best, and a nerdy geek with my nose buried in a book at the worst. Anza however, had always dreamed of the being the girl at the prom, and she wasn't going to let me ruin the closest thing she'd ever had to one. I promised her I would behave and try to have fun, but this was way outside my comfort zone!

After awhile I calmed down, being too busy to freak out much. My control of my empathy powers was much better and, looking over the crowd, it was interesting to see their emotions interact with each other. It was clear who liked whom and who didn't. Those who were here to snoop were easy to pick out, and I passed this to Mr. Chang so he could assign a 'handler' to the wanna be spies.

When the ULTIMATE Reaction Team One made their entrance we gave them a proper greeting. Number One was the leader and she was dressed in her usual gold and silver powered armor.

Number Two was a well muscled man attired in an ULTIMATE dress uniform modified to allow more flexibility and make allowances for his array of martial arts weapons.

The next member was an almost painfully slim young man similarly dressed. Number Three was bald by choice, which made him stand out even more. His listed powers were creating and directing high frequency sound waves. However there was a note in the records we had access to, that thought he could control all vibratory rates for a host of things, not just sound.

Number Four’s Asian features belied her pale complexion and metallic golden hair. She had total control of her own density and volume, giving her the ability to grow, shrink, become denser, or as vaporous as a cloud. She was the one member of this team it was known that had been a criminal who had switched sides. That was because her weird physiology required her to ingest gold to remain healthy. Yep, that golden hair really was gold. It was an open secret that she was ’sheared’ regularly by ULTIMATE to make up for the cost of her upkeep. You would think they would let her wear something other than that unbecoming uniform, considering the other indignities.

Their brick was Number Five. I’ll bet you he’s heard that old joke about Number Five is alive more times than he wants to! He was rated in the Epsilon scale for strength meaning he was damn strong. Having the almost expected body builder look, the only thing that made him stand out was the dreadlock-like hair that worked as radiator vanes. This dude put out a lot of heat and some thought he might even have a sort of living nuclear reactor. Being x-ray proof and next to impossible to take samples from, it was anyone’s guess if it was true. Oh yeah, he was also dressed in one of those blue uniforms.

Noticed the drab and unimaginative names and uniforms, did you? The bureaucrats managing ULTIMATE did everything they could to dehumanize their so called Reaction Teams, except for a few like Number One, whose powers were dependent upon something that couldn't be made to fit into their cookie cutter mold.

From our studies we'd learned that Number One had fought quite the battle to resist having her powered armor painted in ULTIMATE blue. In a fit of anger she had given them spray guns and told them to have at it. A product of her own genius, the armor ignored the hi-tech bonding process. The pigments had run off of it onto the floor, leaving the gleaming suit untouched. With more than a little grumbling they shut up, but they used her Team for the nasty little jobs they expected to backfire on her.

Hearing that, I bet you're wondering why anyone in their right mind would even want to be a part of such a red taped bound anally retentive organization, right? You would be right! Nearly every one of them had either been drafted by their governments or captured by ULTIMATE and given an offer they couldn't refuse. Join or be an inmate of Darkside Base, the nastiest prison since Alcatraz and Devil's Island, on you guessed it, the dark side of the Moon!

If that wasn't enough, rumors abound of cranium bombs and other implants to make sure their recruits toe the party line. Nope, I'm not sorry at all to have dodged the bullet with ULTIMATE, but I do feel a bit sorry for these folks, trapped as they are. Only a bit, mind you, for while most of them were railroaded into this, some of them were genuine criminals who’d made a calculated decision not to end up exiled in the most unforgiving place their jailers could find to put them.

With all that said, they were on their best behavior and politely mingled with the New Riverside Warders. They were carefully watched by their 'handlers,' but the ones I was watching were the ones that Colonel's Stone's research had singled out for being our suspected mole.

Major Victory, as Mr. Roland, had carefully reduced his 'glow' for tonight events. Otherwise, with being so close to him all night we really would have given everybody something to see. He decided to bring everything up a notch by having the band play something other than Christmas tunes. Dancing with both of us, he reinforced his eccentric reputation in the eyes of his guests. The alarming thing here, was that I didn't have the slightest clue how to dance whatever it was we were dancing!

Anza was the wild one who loved to dance, and she'd even talked me into going out a time or two. Besides, Mr. Chang required us to know one or two dances. So I can't claim I can't dance at all. I'm just really self-conscious about it. Anza came to my rescue by showing me the steps mentally, and relied on my reflexes to fake the rest. That did the trick, along with learning how to better access Mystery the character's skills, because while I can't dance, the character I had created most certainly could.

From the applause, I gathered we did very well. Be still my shaking knees! If they only knew. If that wasn't enough, my empathy showed a definite rise in the lust meter. Our dance broke the ice, giving us the opportunity to dance with some of the other guests, much to the dismay of their dates or significant others. I can't say it was unpleasant, but I would much rather been dancing with a certain raven haired lass! Alas duty called, and the room was abound in such interesting guests.

I was surprised to find that I was almost enjoying the experience. Anza, of course, had long ago pushed me onto the dance floor, and I had danced with the guys during our ballroom lessons. My first time on the floor with someone I didn’t know, wasn’t as bad as I had feared. Black Hawk of the Warders, and Number Five of ULTIMATE, insisted on sharing dances with me. They were gentlemen, and I began to see why Anza had fantasies about being the belle of the ball. This was not so for all my dance partners. One of them tried to get a little too familiar, but I was able to discourage him without breaking anything. I didn’t forget why we were there in the first place, and made an effort to entice those on any of our lists onto the floor.

Speaking of which, one of those almost tempted me to break cover. One of our 'guests of interest' was a Mr. Joseph Hyperion. He was a playboy who had arrived with pop singing star Nancy Nitro. Mr. Hyperion owned a Greek based merchant shipping company with a small fleet of ships specialized in rapid transport of luxury items. The vessels being faster, but smaller, could take advantage of New Riversides port facilities with its faster off load times than the bigger ports at NYC or others.

That put him in a good position to be a suspect, and the way he was grabbing my lover's posterior was putting him in a good position to be a murder victim! I was dancing with a Colonel Brown, another of our suspects when I spied that Greek being a little too friendly with my lover. While I was getting mad, I couldn't help but notice his date. Nancy Nitro's reaction seemed a little strange to me. For someone who had such a reputation as a party animal and a Prima-Donna, she was behaving rather sedately.

I was expecting her to be spoiled and temperamental with her date feeling up one of the hired help. Instead, she seemed almost oblivious to what was happening. That could be because of too much champagne and wine, but it did seem odd. At the time though, I was more concerned about the Jerk With The Roving Hands

Cape began giving me the old, “I've got a bad feeling about this,” vibe. I was really worried, wondering why Anza hadn't stopped Mr. Greek shipping tycoon from feeling her up. Sure, she is a lot more comfortable with the 'girl thing' than I, and we were supposed to be keeping our ears open for clues but this? She was strangely unresponsive over our bond, and I admit I was ready to try something perhaps a little foolish. Then suddenly out of nowhere, there was Mr. Roland.

You would think that after being in nearly constant contact with him I would be used to the way he moved so damn quietly and smoothly. It was if he had just materialized out of nowhere. Sometimes I didn't know what intimated me the most, him being acknowledged as one of the most powerful supersuits on the planet, or the close to 80 years of martial arts training he had under his belt. Maybe the length of time he'd been studying didn't matter, but part of me suspected that more than a few of his amazing abilities came more from what he'd learned than what any mad scientist had done to him.

With a smile, he cut in, interrupting Mr. Hyperion's far too damn dirty dancing. My blood ran cold for an instant, because I saw the glance the two bull elephants exchanged. Mr. Roland, as I'd said before, was about 6'4”, but Joshua Hyperion was just as impressively built and was even taller by an inch or two. He might not have superpowers but he was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Anyone interfering did so at their own risk and not something to undertake lightly.

I held my breath when I saw the nasty little smile he gave Mr. Roland, but he raised an eyebrow and passed Anza to him. He rejoined his date Miss Nitro, but I didn't miss his icy glare following them as they danced. Then very deliberately, his eyes met mine. I can't exactly tell you what I felt, but came to understand the fight or flee reflex all too well in the instant when my power did read him. Yuck!

Trying not to look like the jealous lover, I waited till the music stopped and nudged Anza towards the bathrooms. Normally I would expect my saucy lover to have been ready to remove a certain Greek's hand along with any other appendage that she felt was offensive. What do I get?

Anza, in a daze just waited her turn for the facilities and calmly repaired her makeup as if nothing happened!

Speaking to her silently using our bond/link, “Hey Anza! Are you alright? Was he trying to do something?”

Dazed and spacey, she responded, “Oh yeah, I'm fine. Trying something? Who?”

Letting a bit of my anger leak out, “You know, that Greek jerk who was probing your ass searching for your panty line? The one you were just dancing with just before Mr. Roland cut in? Hello?”

She shook her head, and sent back a confused, “He did?”

Of course at that point I was ready to go out and break some fingers, but between not wanting to leave my lover, who acted if she'd been slipped a 'Rope'. (That’s a dose of Rohypnol the date rape drug that causes memory loss.) I had a real good idea who was responsible, so as much as I might want to, Anza's safety came first.

Using my phone, I let Mr. Chang know what was up and that Anza needed help. In this age of cell phones and the amazing Indigo Tooth, the other ladies ignored us. Not that I had needed them to, for our dear fossil had already passed on the word. Acting with his typical efficiency, Mr. Chang made sure help arrived and we got her back to our rooms with no one being the wiser. She went to sleep as soon as she hit the pillow. That done, I was ready to work out my anger on a certain Greek who came bearing unwanted gifts, and I'm not talking Odysseus and the horse he rode in on, either!

Mr. Chang, sensing a problem, arrived in person and, despite myself, talked me out of doing something rash. After all, he reasoned, we'd been dancing for sometime and had accepted drinks from more than one overly hopeful male. Yes, Miss Nitro's behavior was a little odd, as she did have a reputation as something of a party animal. Mr. Hyperion had taken liberties, but there was no proof he was responsible for her condition.

After being sure I had calmed down, he sent me back out into the battle. I think I covered up my double take of seeing the woman I had just left unconscious in bed, hanging back on the arm of our dear Mr. Roland! Then I saw her body language was subtly different, and most of all, her emotions were displaying a rather profound enjoyment of her current circumstances. Oh, that is not even counting on the link/bond between Anza and I telling me this wasn’t my beloved.

Morgan?. My mind swam as I identified her. Mr. Roland's emotions were almost always hard for me to read very well. Still, I think I was receiving a definite pleasurable feeling. Morgan and the Major romantic? They had been spending a lot of time together, what with her being our team leader. I remember her saying something that in her crystalline form, his bio-energy field wasn't as noticeable. That made me realize that they didn't know! He was just the type to be attracted to her, just because he could be reasonably certain she wasn't being unduly influenced. She ... okay, I didn't know for sure why she would fall for him. Her being new at being female might be a factor, but I couldn’t rule out it being just because he was a very intelligent man. Morgan had seldom run across someone who was more so than herself.

Trying not to gape, and keeping my mouth closed, I joined them. This wasn't the time to dwell on yet another complication in our lives. Joining them, I really had no clue she had managed to gain so much control of her shape changing, although upon closer inspection, I could see the flaws. Her shape changing thing was only partially an actual change of form. The rest was a holographic image she was projecting from within herself. She had obviously been practicing.

Taking his arm, we followed his lead as to whom to observe. I read them with my empathy, while Morgan used her eyes. She could see far farther into the visible spectrum and could see raises in blood pressure from the temperature changes. All in all, she made an excellent lie detector.

Of particular interest were those on Colonel's Stone's mole list. Damning the circumstances that had put our telepath out of commission, I did the best I could with my empathy to gain some clue about which one of these pompous fools was the cause of our faces being plastered on wanted posters in post-offices all over the world. Yeah, I meant the pompous thing! They were all the type of self-righteous asses I hated working for when I was in the Army. Ambitious, and more concerned about covering their own rears than in doing what needed to be done.

That's not to say they were incompetent, because they were far from it, being drawn from the world’s most elite armed services. The problem was, ULTIMATE’s mission was the policing of Meta-human issues and threats. Since nearly all the meta-humans they had contact with were criminals, most of them saw all Metas as being cut from the same cloth. That didn’t count the ones that were just out right Humans Rulz advocates. You know, the old, “The only good mutant is a dead mutant.” type.

As much I loved our transformation into beautiful superpowered babes, being part of a politically inferior minority is not good. The good news is, most people do not have a beef with Metas and, for that matter, the majority of criminals are just average humans.
But it was just like the old sayings. “One ‘Oh Crap’ erases a whole lot of ‘Atta Boys” and “It just takes one bad apple to spoil the barrel.” One supervillian can cause one heck of a lot of trouble and, of course, gets all the media attention.

Since we had first met, Mr. Roland had proved he’d learned a lot more than just fighting and flying aircraft in his hundred or so years of being alive. The man was able to charm diamonds from coal. Putting that talent to work, he talked to each of our suspects, while Morgan and I looked beautiful and bored. That is, scanning the crap out of them looking for a slip-up on their parts.

Someone else might have missed it, but the last of our five possible moles stood out for me. I couldn’t say why at first, but something about him just seemed off to me. Lt. Colonel Benjamin Hostler was the senior of the three Strike Group commanders assigned to New Riverside, and had a good record, even not counting his driving ambition.

Colonel Stone had somehow gotten the records for all five of our possible traitors. I’d asked him how, but he told me, “Don’t ask.” Be that as it may, we had studied them very carefully. Comparing everything from the record to the flesh and blood man standing in front of me, it slowly came to me. It was the way he was standing. He’d been in harm’s way far more often than any sane man would dare, because of his ambition. Part of the price for that bravery was the purple hearts he’d earned and the pain that was their legacy.

I knew there were, simply put, some tough SOB’s out there who’ll look the Devil in the eye and spit in his face before giving him the pleasure of admitting any weakness. And some people have incredible tolerance to pain. Our Light Colonel’s record would suggest he was that kind of man.

The problem was, I didn’t think he was in any discomfort at all and that is not the same as bearing with it, or medicating it with painkillers. The more I thought about it, the more certain I became, because of the way he moved. After spending so much time surrounded by Mr. Chang’s dangerously talented, extended family, I’d gotten to see how spending a life time in the martial arts can affect how one does even the most commonplace chores. We’re talking about balance, flexibility, and situational awareness. That made me very aware of how people move. The way this man moved didn’t jibe with what we knew of his records and injuries.

I signaled the man on my arm that I’d picked up on something. Mr. Roland turned on the charm and spent some quiet time talking with the ULTIMATE officer. I’d like to say we tripped him up and confirmed it was him. No such luck. What it did do was move him up to the top of our list.

Thankfully the time came when the clock struck midnight, and all the guests had to depart or risk turning into pumpkins. Colonel Stone came out of his listening post where he’d observed and recorded the whole affair. The inevitable debriefing followed for us and the Warders. I made sure to bring up my suspicions about Mr. Hyperion. Most seemed to regard them as overreaction and just jealousy on my part. His actions, even if it was him, were unfortunate but not unexpected for a wealthy man thinking himself above the law.

I came to realize that the Major, while he was not in vocal support of my speculation, kept his opinions to himself. Taking that as my clue, I let the subject drop. Afterwards I checked on my drugged lover, who was still sleeping it off. It occurred to me, she was going to be sooo angry when she came to. Her first fancy dress event as a woman, and she gets drugged into unconsciousness and doesn’t remember a thing about it all? Giving her a goodnight kiss, I headed to the kitchen to pick up my plate of food for my ghost.

Sitting down in what had become my favorite chair in the conference room, I opened my book. I’d reached the chapter about the feint Admiral Nimitz planned to use to draw out the Japanese kamikaze pilots, using ships loaded with as many anti-aircraft guns as they could pack onboard them, covered by a massive cap of fighters from aircraft carriers and land based airfields from recently captured Okinawa. I was just getting into it when a knock sounded on the door.

Looking over at the secret entrance, I realized my ghost still hadn’t made her appearance. Well it was pretty late. Wondering who it was I said, “Come in.”

To my surprise, it was Question, “To what do I owe the pleasure at this time of night? I would’ve thought you would be on your way home.”

He nodded, but I saw him looking over at my offering, plainly curious as to what it was all about. Ignoring it, he got right to business.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened tonight,” he spread his hands trying to express openness. “I’m not criticizing your choices or life style.”

Knowing I was going to be hearing something unpleasant, I crossed my arms. “Did I just hear a ‘but’?”

The big man in red and white sighed, “It’s never good to have a romantic relationship within a team in any profession where life and death is on the line. It causes lapses of judgment and can put other’s lives in danger. Tonight you were willing to break cover because one of the guests was acting out of line with the one you love, all because of your relationship. That could have endangered all we were trying to accomplish tonight.”

Staring right into the polished lenses of the mask hiding his eyes, “Yes, I was going to interfere, but break cover? No. My reactions would‘ve been quite in character and, while it would’ve made a scene, our cover would still be intact. After all it is already known to anyone who bothers to look, that I and she are lesbians. ” That still sounded really bizarre coming from my lips!

“Anza was in trouble. The rest of you seem to think she was just a victim of some guy with bad judgment, but have any of you thought about how hard it is to slip a telepath a Mickey? And not with just any drug but one that is known for causing memory loss?” Snorting, I shook my head “None of you are sufficiently paranoid in my book. I’m not even mentioning the pure chutzpa of apparently drugging a pop superstar as well. Even if I’m wrong about him being involved in our troubles here, he is a very dangerous lunatic“ I pointed out.

“A rich, powerful, dangerous, lunatic who could bring us unwanted attention. I’m not here to argue with you, but to make you aware of how your relationship can affect us all, not just the two of you,” he said.

“If you’re warning me to be careful, consider me warned. If you’re trying to suggest anything else you can go take that proverbial flying leap into a lake, a deep, icy, cold one,” I told him as evenly as I could.

Without a sound my ghost made her entrance when the secret door revealed itself. She looked better now since she’d been eating proper meals. Dressed in one of the jumpers I’d gotten for her, she still refused the sandals and was barefoot. It was a measure of the trust I had built between us that she had abandoned some of her usual caution. Unfortunately for us, it was at exactly the wrong time.

Instantly I felt Question’s surprise, alarm and anger. ‘Just what else could go wrong tonight?’ I wondered not really wanting to know.

She was frozen in fear and I knew she was just a hairsbreadth from fleeing.

Question stormed forward, “It’s a Vole clone!”

Cape and my empathy gave me no doubts at all that the big guy intended harm to my young friend. We sprang over him and, using a technique from one of my many teachers, I redirected him back the way he had come. I half expected him to go though the wall, but he spun around, dropping into a combat ready stance.

“What are you doing? That is a Vole clone! You don’t know how dangerous those things are! They were genetically designed as replacement bodies and decoys for Doctor Vole. The Damn things are vicious!,” he cursed.

I knew she was still behind me and hadn’t fled, which surprised and pleased me all at once. Carefully I took a step backward towards her, keeping myself between him and her.

“She is a scared child who been hiding here, and the only questionable thing I’ve seen her do is steal some food. This is a child, not a thing. I don’t know much about this Doctor Vole or these Vole clones, but if you try to hurt her, we’ll see just how much I’ve learned in the last month!”

That stopped him! “She?,” he said sounding oh so intelligent. “That’s not possible. All of them were exact clones. none were females,” he argued.

“Honey,” I asked her softy, “will you take my hand?”

I didn’t dared to take my eyes from Question. Fortunately I had Cape and my empathy to help me gage how far I could go with her.

A touch as light as a breath gripped my hand. I was going to brush the hair that obscured half her face away, but when she flinched, I stopped. ‘Okay time to move to plan ‘B.’ Just as soon as I figure out what exactly plan ‘B’ is.’ Cape extended itself protectively around my ‘ghost’s’ silhouette. That gave me an idea.

At least Question was hesitating, not so sure anymore that my friend was a threat, or maybe he was just confused.

“Honey, can you turn in a circle for us?” I asked her, feeling her tremble.

Unsurely, she nodded and turned in a slow circle for me, while holding my hand.

She was 12 maybe 13, but since she’d been eating better she was starting to fill out. Not an obvious figure, but she was definitely on her way. After her slow spin she pulled close to me.

“What’s your name, dear?” I asked her.

My ghost looked up at me, “Nurse used to call me Dee.”

I raised an eyebrow at Question who’d had all the wind taken from his sails. Recognizing that she was female confused the big guy even more, and gave me the opportunity to get him to agree to something he might not have, normally.

“She’ll stay with me for now until we know more. I don’t think she is going to hurt anyone. Is that okay with you, Dee?” I hugged the trembling child.

“Huh, huh,” she whispered.

He half raised a hand to object, but he still hadn’t figured out he’d been outmaneuvered yet as we walked by him on our way to the mansion.

Dee shivered and grasped my hand tightly as we stepped outside.

“Are you alright sugar?” I asked her.

A soft, barely heard voice, “I’ve never been outside before with so many other people around.”

“It’s alright dear. I’m here and I’ll make sure no one bothers you, OK?” I squeezed her hand.

My ghost just gave me a shallow nod and held on to me all the tighter.

As we walked, Cape made sure I was aware of the Warders, who had somehow been warned by Question, coming out to see us. They didn’t do or say anything, but they made their presence known.

All I know is, they made me as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, and I was thinking I really should’ve called Mr. Chang or the guys for help. That was before I saw Will casually step out into the light from the shadows, along with Lin and a double handful of her family.

Thinking bad thoughts about Mexican standoffs, I walked into the mansion with my ghost. Seeing Mr. Chang and his grandson, the Doctor, as we entered, I breathed a sigh of relief. I should’ve known that very little happened around here that he didn’t know about.

“Miss Reed. I see your friendly spirit has decided to come into the light. Do you require the services of my nephew?” he asked, formal as always.

My bad, a nephew, not a grandson. There were a small town’s worth of his relatives living here with us now. I think at times they did their best to confuse us westerners. Okay I admit it. It was after midnight, my lover had been drugged by a power crazed Greek, I was rescuing an abused child from a group of Supersuits, and I was tired. Ok, I give, you got me!

“Dee, this is a doctor. Is it alright if he looks at you to make sure you’re all right?” I asked her, thinking that treating her as a person seems to be working so far.

I felt a spike of pure fear from her as I mentioned doctor, and immediately decided that, if Doctor Vole ever, ever gets out on parole and I’m around, he’ll be receiving a unhappy visit from me.

I thought she was going to start screaming, and Cape and I sent soothing feelings at her, trying to ease the poor darling’s panic.

“Shhh, dear, I asked if we could. Since you don’t want to, it’s alright. Dee it’s alright.” I told her, scared to hug her for fear she’d take even that as a threat.

“Anza is a nurse. Maybe she can check and see if you’re healthy tomorrow, alright? No doctors.”

Finally it seemed, I’d said something right.

“Nurse is going to see me tomorrow?” Dee said looking up at me with hope in her eye.

“My best friend in the whole world is A Nurse and she’ll won’t do anything you don’t want her to.” I looked into her single visible eye.

She burst into tears, hugging me in a death grip. Not knowing what to do, I held her, as whatever hurt worked it’s way out. Sniffling, and almost hiccupping from her crying, she buried her head in Cape’s folds, which gently wiped her face.

I suppose I should have seen it coming, but Cape, it seemed, had accepted another into the small group it regarded as family. Closing my eyes, I knew it was my own fault for not thinking ahead. Vaguely, I’d intended to coax my ghost out of her hiding place and find out where she belonged. If it was true that she was a clone of some sort, that meant she might not have a place to go to. More alarming was Mr. Goody, Goody Two Shoes, willing to wipe the floor with her because he thought she was a clone, whether she was a child or not. Opening my eyes, interesting times were still following us, yes siree.

Mr. Chang had already sent his nephew on his way, and Lin had taken his place. Seeing how the child seemed frightened of men, he’d taken a few steps back.

“Miss Reed and miss, I’ve had a roll-away bed taken to your rooms,” Mr. Chang said to us.

Still red faced from her cry, Dee was surprised she was being addressed, but remembering her manners, nodded, “Thank you.”

Lin helped me get her up the stairs to my rooms, although I noticed that the guys, despite being curious, kept their distance. I was wondering if I should call on Morgan, but it was late and she and the Major had departed together. The mind boggles as to why, but it wasn’t an emergency. All of us needed some sleep, and Dee most of all.

She was plainly curious about my rooms, but when Will thoughtfully brought up her forgotten plate of goodies from the party, she dug in with gusto. With her stomach full, she didn’t take long to fall to sleep, and I sat with her for a while.

I did have ulterior motives, for I suspected something was wrong with her. That was why I wanted her seen by a doctor. Brushing aside her hair, I flinched seeing much to my dismay I’d been correct. The right side of her face had looked a little distorted. That was because the left side was so scarred it had pulled the skin taut. It was an old wound, but obviously hadn’t received proper care. Maybe Anza’s doctor friend or Morgan could tell what had happened, but about all I could tell was it didn’t have that melted look you see with burns. Her left eye was missing, and the shrinking socket had contributed to the distortion of the, mostly untouched, right side.

Even Lin winced when she saw how bad it was. She usually carried herself as a battle tested veteran, and took things that would make most folks puke in stride. I’ve heard that Chinese culture, as a whole, is not kind to those to whom life had given deformities. Lin gave the lie to that stereotype with the compassion in her eyes. Right then I decided Will had found someone very special, and Mr. Chang had better get ready for the fight of his life. Will and Lin would get their chance, even if I had to give heaven and earth a little nudge here and there.

Softly, so as to not wake Dee, Lin spoke, “My cousin Doctor Lee might be able to help her, but she is afraid of him.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “I think it is because she was experimented on by this Doctor Vole. Anyone calling themselves a doctor is going frighten her half to death.”

Lin nodded sadly, “She has good reason, if he did this to her.”

Taking a deep breath before the plunge, I asked, “Lin just how are clones treated here? Question is about as big a Boy Scout as they come, but he wasn’t going to hesitate to attack her. Why? On my world we don’t have the technology yet, but even trying to clone humans is forbidden in most places.”

The attractive Chinese woman agreed with me, “Yes, we do have the ability, but most nations here forbid it as well. My grandfather suspected your ghost might be a survivor of Vole’s organization, but since you were handling the situation, he left it your hands. Vole was a handsome appearing child, but when his mutation was triggered, it warped his body. Even though it gifted him with greatly increased intelligence and the power to walk though the earth, he became obsessed with restoring himself to a normal appearance.

“To further this cause he conducted illegal experiments on others, as well as upon his own genetic material. The difference was, he used genes from any source that would fit his designs, including those from animals, and even plants. ULTIMATE has ruled in the past, because of dealing with these demented scientists, that their Chimera creations are not truly human at all, but golem-like creatures bred to be nothing more than attack dogs. Like with attack dogs, they were to be put down out of concern for the good of the public welfare.

“These Vole clones, as Question called them, were used to provide spare parts for injuries he suffered in his battles with agencies trying hunt him down, and since they were force grown with his own memories as decoys to protect his life, it was as the Warder said, for they were raised knowing the weak among them would be used for parts. They fought for all they were worth to overcome their fellows and for the chance to escape. Some fell to the original mutation and were used as decoys. Others died from whatever modifications Vole made to them while looking for the cure to his mutation’s body warping effects.

“It would seem that the simplest answer was the right one,” She said.

Picking up on what she meant, “You mean the disfigurement is sex linked with the “Y” chromosome?”

“Yes. I think Dee might be older than she looks. Likely, fourteen or older. That is past the time the original Vole changes manifested themselves, so it is a reasonable leap of logic to say he did find the cure he was looking for,” she said sadly.

Angrily I said, “Looks like he tried to kill the messenger. She doesn’t act like you say the other clones did, so she must’ve been more an experiment than the others. Poor little one. No wonder she was clinging to me. She must be half staved for attention.”

A little hesitant Lin looked at me, “You understand that a simple DNA test would reveal what she is and, with her scars, it will be very hard to find a home for her?”

“Yes, Lin I was already coming to the same conclusion.” I sighed again. If I kept this up I would start to sound like a steam engine. Huff, huff, huff, shhh.

“This is not a good time for this, but if I have to, I’ll look after her for as long as I can. We are about to step into the deep end with this Syndicate business, and if we are successful I don’t even know what world I’ll end up on. That’s not even taking into account that my better half may have plans other then being the 2nd mom to an abused, teenaged, gene engineered, mutant. ‘But Mom she followed me home.’” I joked, rubbing my tired eyes.

“Do you really think you’ll leave when this is over?,” she asked, obviously concerned about her possible future together with Will.

“I really don’t, know Lin. There are a lot of reasons for us to want to stay, but we never had any choice about coming here in the first place. All of us, even the ones I never expected to, are forging ties here. Staying will mean never seeing our families again. For some that is not a big problem, but for others it is. I just don’t know Lin, except it’s late and I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.” I said as I walked her out, giving her a hug of thanks for her help, “Don’t worry about Will. I’m sure you two will work this out somehow.”

With a wan smile, she said, “Goodnight,” leaving me alone with my lover and a new responsibility. Snuggling into the covers I decided to let my worries wait until the morning and let my dreams carry me away.

***

On a neighboring hill, the soil churned and a serpent scaled head broke the surface. All night he’d been keeping tabs on Pretty Boy. He gets to go to a big party and what does ole Ripper gets to do? Dig around and keep a eye on the boss’s favorite.

He might complain but he wasn’t insane enough to flout the Boss’s orders, no matter what those shrinks might have said about him back at that prison masquerading as a hospital. He might be a schizophrenic mass murderer, but even he wasn’t crazy enough to double-cross the Boss, so he’d done what he’d been told to do.

What he’d discovered was that base under the quarry was still fully operational. Closed down and destroyed, his ass! Just tunneling close to it had almost set off some kind of defense system. Still having a fine sense of self-preservation, he’d veered off, giving it a wide berth.

That’d been a royal pain in the posterior but nothing he couldn’t handle. No, the worst part had been running across those campers. He’d wanted to rend and tear the little pretties so badly, however the Boss had told him quite firmly that tonight, he was to not touch so much as a hair on anyone’s head, or else. It’d been so very hard to slither away and leave them be. Ever since his accident and since he’d been twisted into his present, hideous form, the only real pleasure he’d had was ripping the pretty ones.

With a flick of his snake-like tongue, he scented the air one last time before burrowing back into the earth. Who would’ve guessed that Clint James, Doctor of herpetology would be spending his nights living as a reptile, rather than studying them?

***

Heroes of Justice: The story of Dee

Johnny shifted fitfully, only half asleep. He was ten, and tomorrow he had a big baseball game. His dad was always there for his Little League games, and no one needed to tell Johnny that his Dad was proud of him for following in his athletic footsteps. He was the star pitcher, and the team was depending on him to win the city championship.

Again Johnny shivered in his sleep. It just seemed wrong somehow. Half awake, he remembered always being happy of making his dad proud and how easy sports were for him. It all seemed wrong somehow. Part of him struggled to come awake, but he just couldn’t seem to. Just as bad, he couldn’t sink back into deeper sleep. He was just stuck here, somewhere in-between.

Then with a surge of blinding lights he was thrown forward. With terror in his chest he fought to breathe. He felt hands on him and they turned him over onto his stomach. With a sickening spasm he coughed up what seemed like endless streams of water from his lungs.

Was he downing? How had he fallen into the water, because the last he remembered was being safe in bed at home? Exhausted, finally the last of the water was gone, and with a great effort he took a lung full of wonderful air. Strangely it seemed to burn a little, but the pure relief of being able to breath again overcame everything else.

Opening his eyes, everything seemed out of focus, but he thought he was in a hospital or something. He felt the hands again moving him, poking and prodding like doctors always seem to do. Johnny had never been to one except for checkups, and they always said how healthy his Dad’s golden boy was.

He’d tried to talk but couldn’t. Did they have to be so rough, grunting as they almost threw him onto some kind of gurney, he guessed, because he felt himself moving a little while later.

What had happened? Where were his parents? Fear filled him again as his ordeal began to overwhelm him. He tried not to cry because his Dad always told him that was for girls, not for boys who were tough.

Johnny felt himself stop moving and heard a door shut. Weakly, he tried to sit up by using the handrails to help him, but it was just too much. Lying back down, the fear and exhaustion drove him into sleep.

Slowly coming awake he heard a voice, “Here, sit up.”

Struggling to open his eyes, he realized someone had grabbed his arm, pulling him upright.

“Hey, let go of me! What are you doing?,” Johnny demanded, half asleep.

“Here is clothing. Get dressed. Food will be coming soon. If you’re not dressed you won’t get fed. You understand that?” the voice demanded of him. Forcing himself to see, Johnny saw the owner was a woman who looked liked a nurse or something. She had brownish colored hair with red highlights, but must be kind of old, because she had some gray, too. Instead of white or the pastel colors he was accustomed to seeing on doctors and such, she was wearing a dark red smock.

“Where am I? Where are my Mom and Dad?” Johnny asked.

Ignoring his questions she pointed to a screen set into the wall, “That will answer your questions. Now get dressed or go hungry.”

“If you’re a nurse, how come you’re dressed in red?” he asked, pulling himself to the edge of the bed.

This time she turned to face him, and the look on her face scared him, “So all the blood stains won’t show.”

Not sorry to see her go, he shakily got up off the bed. Keeping one hand on it to keep from falling he wondered what had happened to him. Looking around he saw the walls were transparent, as if they were made of glass or plastic. He could see many other rooms with people moving around getting dressed, too. Not really paying attention to them, he picked up the underwear.

Hey, this was a pair of girl’s panties! He looked at the screen, thinking to complain, but he could see a robot or something delivering food just a few rooms down from his. Not wanting to miss eating, he picked up the plain looking exercise style shorts and pulled them on. Reaching down to ‘situate’ himself, he froze.

There wasn’t anything down there! In panic, he felt only flatness. Shocked, his knees failed him and he slid to the cold floor. Johnny was only half aware when her food was shoved into her room from the slot at the bottom of the door. Hours later, she was still clenched into a fetal ball when the scary woman returned.

***

“Oh for …” Barbara Kirsch swore as she stepped into the cubical for Subject 141. A quick look at the charts told the story. Damn, this one was a special. Every other batch or so, Doctor Vole tried something radically different. This one was a cross sexed clone, but the standard acclimation memory recording had still been used. From the clone’s point of view, it had gone to bed as a boy and woke up as a girl.

As much as she felt like hitting … well … her, with the shock prod, Barbara guessed the clone did have reason to freak out. It took a few tries but she got the subject dressed the rest of the way. She did struggle a little when Barbara added the underwear, but stopped after a while, making a rather sad hiccupping sound trying to keep from crying.

Barbara told herself over and over again that they were just lab specimens. She was being very well paid for her trouble. Barbara had been lucky to be able to find a job at all given her past history. She’d made a mistake, getting involved in an industrial espionage scam. That had ended up not only getting her fired, but blacklisted as well. The mistake had also cost her one of her closest friendships, as well as her marriage.

She not only needed this job, but she didn’t have any other choice now. Doctor Vole had only needed to make one example of someone who had betrayed him, for her to promise herself that no matter what, she would never, ever put herself in that situation.

Barbara ended up almost feeding the child. No, she told herself. Subject 141 is a specimen. Leaving the cubical she had a bad feeling that this one was going to be hard.

***

Johnny wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The only reliable method was counting how often the robots brought food. She had slowly gotten used to the idea of being a girl, but it wasn’t easy. All of her memories were of a boy. The woman she had taken to calling Nurse was teaching her some of what being a girl was like.

Nurse was still scary sometimes but not like she'd been at first. She was even nice sometimes.

Johnny was kept from the rest of the boys who were just like her, except they had stayed boys. Looking into the common room she was frightened at the violence they did to each other, fighting for the right to eat. At least she didn’t have to worry about getting fed, but it was like watching animals.

Johnny had seen Doctor Vole once and found it hard to believe that she or rather he would have grown up to look like that. The oversized head and eyes perched on that stunted, hunchbacked body were hideous. The worst part was those eyes that shone like nothing sane ever did. Somehow, she knew nothing but madness lay behind them.

Nurse had told her that she would get used being girl, because although her memories were Dr. Vole’s before his mutation had happened, her body, including her brains, were female. She still missed her parents, even if they were all just a dream. What truly scared her was that she might change into something misshapen with those awful eyes.

Looking into the common area, she’d seen some of the others as they began to change. Sometimes they hurt the other boys when they changed, and other times they simply died. Of course the robots removed them when the changes started, but the scariest part was that they were never seen again.

Johnny had gotten a mirror from Nurse and, saw that besides not having anything hanging, for a long time, she looked just like he had before. Now, since more time had passed, she could see differences. Her hips were wider and her chest was really sensitive. Nurse said this was because she was growing up, and told her more about being a woman.

Sometimes that thought made her cry. The memories of her Dad being so proud of Johnny being the star of the Little League Team were special to her. Despite being told all she remembered was a lie, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fulfill those dreams for her Dad’s approval, hurt. Other times it seemed like what was happening to her body just felt right.

An icy shiver passed though her, and fearfully she looked up and saw him staring at her from the other side of the door, Dr. Vole! Swallowing hard, and trying not to flinch, she tried to keep her face expressionless and not let her fear show. Feigning disinterest, she returned to what she had been doing before, but the terror she felt from those mad eyes looking at her wouldn’t go away. She knew this meant something bad, hugging herself alone in her cell.

***

Barbara had never felt such a combination of outright fury and fear in all her of her life. She did the best she could to comfort the girl with half her face bandaged. Even with the medication, it couldn’t give the child she held peace.

What in the hell had he been thinking, moving Subject 141 into the common room? There was a reason why she and the other attendants called it the Hell Hole. The specimens there were encouraged to fight for their very survival. Adequate food was sometimes withheld, forcing them to fight just to live.

Shuddering, Barbara knew just how fast a happy smiling child could become an animal, for she’d seen it happen too many times. The girl was younger than the other specimens and had immediately fallen into trouble. One of the older inmates had begun his metamorphoses and had unleashed his powers. Those powers let those with the Vole mutation, tunnel though rock and stone as fast as they could walk. Or, grimly she thought, remove half the face of a sweet natured child.

She couldn’t deny any longer that the true monsters here were herself and the others who had taken that lunatic’s money. At what point this girl had stolen her heart, even while Barbara had tried her best to harden it, she didn’t know. What she did know was unless something was done, Dee would die here.

Almost laughing hysterically, Barbara hated what those children had done, because of monsters like herself. Because the girl had been different from themselves, they’d named her Defective. They’d beaten her until she would answer to no other name.

Barbara knew she had ruined her own life with her arrogance and greed, but she had never hated herself more. Breaking the rules, she’d dragged the girl from that violent cesspit. When the girl would answer to no other name, Barbara called her Dee and that seemed to satisfy the child. She’d done her best to treat the wounds that had removed Dee’s eye, but what she needed was a fully equipped surgical team, and not a lab tech with a first aid kit.

So here they were, one poor abused girl, and a failed mercenary who’d found she had a heart after all. Barbara feared for both of them, but hoped to buy them some time by changing Dee’s status on the computer from specimen to trustee, a status reserved for those who had mutated into the same form as Doctor Vole. He called them trustees, but what they really were, was expendable decoys. There was a transition period for them and, using an override code she wasn’t supposed to have, Barbara had extended it into infinity.

This would, she hoped, hide her breaking of procedures since the computer ran almost everything down here. It would also keep Dee busy and out of sight, since her change of status would open the teaching and other programs for her. Hopefully, this would give Barbara some time to try and plan how to get them both out of here.

Leaning down to kiss the fitfully sleeping child’s forehead, she uttered a silent prayer for them both.

***

Dee huddled, scared by the sounds of fighting. Nurse had roused her from sleep and hidden her in a nook she’d dug when her powers had come. That hadn’t been nice either, but they’d both breathed easier when the only change they could see was that her remaining eye had become larger and more light sensitive. She been relieved that it wasn’t filled with that insane light she still saw in her nightmares.

After warning her to keep quiet and stay until Nurse came to get her, Dee quieted her mind, something she’d learned in the bad place. Some of the others could feel what you were thinking, and it was the only way to hide from them.

Explosions, gunfire, and screams sometimes got closer, and other times drifted farther away. What didn’t change, was that they seemed to last forever. She stayed as long as she could after they stopped but hunger and having to pee forced her out. Putting on a brave face even though she no longer believed it was a bad thing to cry, but right now wasn’t the time. Dee was horribly concerned about her only friend, Nurse, but if she went looking for her, Nurse wouldn’t know where to find her.

Dee didn’t know how much time had passed but others had come and taken away the bodies of the dead that had begun to smell. A little after that she’d felt the touch of someone looking for thoughts. Frightened, she’d hidden back in her nook and quieted her thoughts. Breathing a sigh of relief when that ordeal had ended, she carefully looked about. Everyone was gone!

Doctor Vole, the boys in the bad place, the attendants, and heartbreakingly, Nurse too. They were all gone! She’d cried for hours it seemed and didn’t know what to do. The robots were still here, even if not as many as there used to be. They still brought food, even if it didn’t taste very good. The computer was still teaching her how to speak other languages, as well as other subjects like Math and Science. Steeling herself, she settled into a routine of learning and looking around the huge place where she was.

Some of the places held bad memories, like the tube like things where she was born from, while others, like finding the door to the building outside, were exciting. It’d been so long since she been outside! Dee didn’t spend much time out in the daylight because it seemed so bright to her single eye. She started going out more at night, when she felt safer, and more comfortable.

Time passed and strangers came and went, but none were her friend, Nurse. The best part was, sometimes they left food! The robots still fed her but it was so bland no one could say it tasted good. Finding these bits was a treasure she looked forward to even as she feared discovery.

Then things changed when the others came. The computer would show her some of what went on outside. This time there was a helicopter, a couple of cars and even a motorcycle too. What made her mouth water was all the stuff they were unloading. The camping stuff she remembered from Johnny’s Club Scout days, so that meant they were planning on staying a while. That wasn’t good, but all that food!

She’d waited till she was sure they were all asleep and then opened the door to the outside. Carefully she searched for food that wouldn't be missed. ’There by the TV!’ She thought triumphantly, ’Potato chips!

Taking only just enough that none would be missed, she carefully measured out her treats. By the door was a cooler full of ice cold drinks, and she used her ragged sleeve to wipe the icy drink free of water as to not leave a trail of droplets back to her sanctuary. Happily she watched the secret door whisper shut before indulging in her feast, not knowing this was only the beginning of a new life.

***

Heroes of Justice: ‘Tis the season!

Waking up the next morning, I was all set for the fight of my life. Figuring on the same kind of trouble revealing Anza’s and my relationship had caused, I began trying to prepare myself for the coming storm.

In some ways what really did happen freaked me out even worse. It can be summed up by the Major’s reaction. “I understand your ghost from Doctor Vole’s old headquarters came out into the open last night after the party?” he asked me.

“Yes, she did. I’d notice small bits of food going missing, so I started making up plates of stuff, figuring it was better to make friends than build problems by setting a trap,” I replied.

“Am I correct that she is young and rather shy?” he continued while reading a report.

“She appears to be between 12 and 14 at a guess and, yes, she is very shy. She has disfiguring facial scars and other signs of abuse.” I replied, wondering just how much trouble I was in.

“Do you think any of us, or our investigation into the Syndicate’s operations, are in danger from her?” he inquired, as he filled out some paperwork.

“No, I don’t think so. She does seem to have some meta powers because she did avoid the Warders telepath and Anza’s attention. I can read her emotions only upon touch and, right now, she needs attention and love. No possible threats that I can see.” I was thinking, ‘well here it comes.’

“Good. I’ve revised our schedule so you can spend some time getting her settled and seeing to her care. Besides, Christmas is just a few days away and it won’t cause that much trouble. The rest of the team will be shadowing the Warders, since your analysis and Colonel Stone’s both agree they might be in more risk for the time being. I understand he has another project he wants you to assist him with, so this should work out nicely. ” He picked another folder and began reading.

“That’s it, no second degree, or demands I get rid of her?” I asked, astonished.

Looking me in the eye the Major told me, “Mystery you are a very able empath. I trust your abilities and judgment. You wouldn’t be the person you are if you could forget about someone who needs you so badly. Yes, it is inconvenient, but that is all a part of life. Being true to yourself gives you strength despite whatever short term problems this may cause. Anything else?” he asked me.

“No,” I mumbled in shock, as I passed another of Mr. Chang’s relatives. This one was taking all of the Major’s paperwork and transferring it all back into the computer. He might be able to whip a herd of tyrannosaurs into steaks before breakfast, but a computer? Not so much!

Anza was more pissed about being drugged, than at my springing Dee on her. I really felt sorry for whoever was responsible. My lover cried a few tears and then got this glint in her eye that promised, she would find out who had stolen her special night from her, and when she did, there would be some serious payback coming to them.

After calming her down, for I didn’t want her scaring Dee, I introduced the two of them. I think she was even madder about the way the child been treated than I was, and that is saying something. Because of Dee's fears, we had to arrange a camera so Doctor Lee could examine her remotely, with Anza acting as his hands.

She was still hypersensitive about us examining her disfigurement, but she was willing to give Anza privileges the rest of us lacked. That came about after Anza assured Dee “Honest Injun” that she was a real life, honest to goodness, Nurse. Anza just smiled and told her she wished all her patients were as good as her. That coaxed a smile from Dee and, despite how badly she’d been handled in the past, it lit up the room.

The good news was, besides her long healed injury and some mild malnutrition, she was very healthy. The bad news was, the scarring was as severe as it looked. Doctor Lee thought he might be able to relieve some of the worst effects with assistance from Anza’ telekinesis and the Major’s healing ability. For the time being, he prescribed a salve to help soften the scar tissue.

The other news was just as Lin had suspected. Dee’s mutation had already done whatever it was going to do, so she was free of the threat of more disfigurement. Her one good eye was a dark brown and was very large and light sensitive.

Dr. Lee tentatively put Dee on the Siegel and Schuster Scale as an Alpha class mutant with Meta abilities. No one had really tried to apply that rating scheme to us, although it was used on our fake records. The Major looked at things from a more practical viewpoint, which pretty much ignored the rating scale. After being run half to death by the dear Major, we all knew pretty much exactly what each of us was capable of anyway.

While I was helping Dee settle, I missed all the excitement when the Syndicate hit Claremont Mall on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t as huge a haul they could’ve made if they’d robbed it on the biggest shopping day of the year, the day after Thanksgiving. What it did do was make for a very sensational story. Oh sure, the money they did get wasn’t any chump change, but what they were really after was another chance at taking out the Warders.

The rest of our gang confused things for them by showing up supersuited as the Warders! Afterwards, the Warders claimed confusion, too, as to who would be impersonating them, to ULTIMATE.

You really have to give it to Colonel Stone. He’s one sneaky SOB. He lives by the motto “Confusion to your enemies.” Both he and I thought the Syndicate wanted to fade after they had taken control of New Riverside Meta-criminal elements. The best way to do that was to bring even more attention to themselves, and then stage a gory, dramatic, falsified death for each of them. Of course, to make sure, anyone who’d become familiar with their operating methods would need to go away. That meant the Warders and the New Riverside law enforcement agencies. No, we didn't think the Syndicate was going after the entire departments, just the detectives who were most familiar with the cases. So we were covering those we thought were in the most danger.

That is where Colonel Stone's special project came in. You see, he'd read about my transformation of Cazadora's clothing to the bondage-like wear Cape had bound her with. He wanted to know if Cape and I could make other types of clothing or things, such as disguises. The Changs had several talented experts knowledgeable about changing one's appearance, but more for the purposes of sneaking in and out of places they weren't supposed to be, if you know what I mean. He needed something different.

I explained about Cape, my symbiont, and how it worked. It was a lot of work for both us, with Cape doing the actual labor, but with me providing the design and the energy. Changing Cazadora's clothes had been like a workout all in itself, compressed into just a minute or two.

Colonel Stone explained he needed something like out of “Operation: Impossible.” You know, that show with the peel off masks, and things that were never what you thought they were. He wanted disguises good enough to confuse things in combat and he didn't expect them to pass a close inspection. That gave me pause, so I told him I would have to do some experimenting and get back to him about it. I had done some thinking about creating supersuits, but that was a secret, shhh, don't tell anyone! However that was still different than trying to disguise someone.

I talked to Anza and Morgan, but then I realized that the person who knew the most about fashion and clothing wasn't a person at all, Cape! It didn't take long to figure out this was another thing it hadn't done before and didn't know anything about. As always, Cape was eager to please, I just had to show it how.

I decided the best way to educate Cape was to pick everyone's brains on the subject. Anza had a good fashion sense and knew how to make a male appear more feminine, using appliances and other such. Morgan, with her back stage college theater background, knew something about rough and ready costume changes. Of course I also consulted with the Changs, who were a wealth of practical experience and ideas.

Morgan also had another suggestion that I admit I didn't care for, Tom. You see, he being a Batguy-like character, he was also a master of disguise. He had been much less abusive of late and, at times, even nice, but friend or not, I wasn't anxious to open up that can of worms.

To my surprise he accepted the challenge, and together we laid out some parameters. We had to match the person with the best skills to imitate a specific Warder. For example: Will, the big strongman, was a natural to pose as The Question, just as Anza could use her mental powers to simulate Wraith's invisibility. The costumes had to be flexible, but also had to offer protection, because they were being used in combat. That ruled out most body shaping garments because of the way they constrained the wearer.

We looked into stuff like Holographic projectors and other high tech alternatives, but strangely enough, we got our answer from paint. While searching for ideas, I caught Tom being naughty and looking at some of photos of nude models. The thing was, these models were wearing cleverly applied paint to give themselves the illusion of wearing clothes.

That reminded me of something I'd seen on the beach some years back, of a girl wearing a t-shirt that had a bikini attired torso printed upon it. Cape, running with the idea, flashed up an image of something similar, but in a kind of bas-relief, or more like a high relief, giving a more 3D effect.

With Tom's help we came up with a bodysuit design that worked fairly well. Then he surprised me so much so I had to sit down. Tom volunteered to be costumed as Alara the Swordswoman!

He pointed out how he was the only one of us who could even come close to convincingly using a scimitar. If we could get it to work on him, the others would be easy. Thinking of the TG bodysuit stories from back home, Cape and I made a body-stocking-like garment made of Kevlar like-fibers, which were even stronger, given Cape's special manufacturing process. It had light weight projections giving the illusion of breasts, and a generally more feminine form. Of course, a goodly portion of Tom's masculine form extended beyond Alara's slimmer outline, like with that printed Bikini cover-up t-shirt.

Thanking Gawd Alara's supersuit had a short cape, we used flat, non-reflecting materials the same color as her cape and some other tweaking of colors and materials so Tom‘s excess bulk blended into the background of the cape. If I do say so myself, it didn't come out badly at all. Cape had done a wonderful job on the mask and headpiece. It had even contrived to give the breasts a little bounce. All in all it was almost a work of art, but you had to remember that the entire suit was custom made for Tom, starting at the nano-level. It was so good, I had to make sure Cape hadn't made a real symbiotic bodysuit as some kind of revenge for past transgressions. Cape hadn't, but I got the feeling it'd been tempted!

Like with all illusions, if you start looking for flaws you will find them, but it was good enough to fool and confuse quite a number of the gang and staff. Not bad, not bad at all!

The seriousness of all this didn’t keep Anza from the giggles, seeing Tom disguised as Alara the swordswoman for the first time! With her mental powers she immediately saw who he really was. I’m glad I had a camera ready. The look on her face will make a nice addition to my photo album!

Colonel Stone was pleased and gave us the go ahead for us to work up the other's suits. Will ended up as Question and Morgan as Conductress. Anza was dressed as Wraith, while we had a special treat for Mark.

With his character's security background he had proven to be skillful with firearms and martial arts. His face was a study when we revealed his white cloaked Enigma costume, explaining he was the closest we had to someone able to fake her firearms based martial arts, Juu Kun Do, the Way of the Gun.

No matter what Tom had said about his Alara costume being the hardest to make, Mark's was more of a challenge. He was almost a foot taller, and twice as wide as she! What we did do with the help of her cloak was make look like her big sister. Cape did a cute trick with the cloak, using a holographic effect to help confuse the eye as to distance. It worked so well, the real Enigma wanted one!

The real test was how well they worked when put into action, even though we understood that this would only be effective once. The rather confused Enforcers, seeing twice as many heroes show up as expected, faded away, which suited everyone just fine, given the number of shoppers at the Mall. Tom even managed to nail a tracer to one of them, but lost the signal after a few miles. Slow on the uptake, these baddies weren’t.

Everyone ribbed Tom and Mark about their cross-dressing supersuits, although for some reason it didn’t seem to bug them. As a matter of fact they kidded and teased each other nearly the entire time. I was kinda worried about Mark because, in this guise, he couldn’t wolf out without giving the show away, and so was a bit vulnerable. Well, as much as anyone who just completed the Major’s superduper school of mayhem. In fact, they had all done well without me.

No one had to say that, although not a single bad guy had been caught and they had gotten away with the loot, all counted it a victory. Besides one security guard who had gotten smacked around by Big Red, my old sparing partner, no one else had been hurt. It'd been a lot of work getting those costumes ready, but seeing how it had kept a major disaster from erupting on Christmas Eve, that was more than good enough, Salute!

During this time, of course, Dee followed me around like a puppy, but expecting that, I joined in the Chang’s family’s holiday preparations when I could. Ok, I will answer that question I can hear you asking. Are they primarily Buddhist or Christian? Christian, but still respectful of the traditions of their ancestors to include the Buddhists. So we baked, decorated sugar cookies and had to, of course, sample the works of our labors to insure quality. Dee was shy about joining in, but the gleam of happiness in her single eye seemed to make up for her having only one.

The rest of the gang had quickly came to think of her as our mascot, and even Tom didn’t seem to have problems with her. Us yes, her no. He’d gotten very close to this girl he was seeing, and that had helped immensely with mellowing him out. What I had a problem with was, when he opened his big mouth and jokingly called Dee our sidekick! The second he said it I saw her eye light up, and I knew we had trouble. I could’ve kicked his butt all over our humble hole for that one! Sure enough, she asked for her own costume and mask.

“Santa, do you take last minute requests?”

As part of their fade-away from the mall, the gang had pretended to be shoppers. On the way home they’d picked up a few things for Dee, since we’d done most of our shopping for each other weeks before in NYC. Ha, a few things! When you’ve got five neophyte heroes riding high on a win, just a few items added up to a lot. Just like any group of guys shopping for a teenager, they didn’t have a clue on what to get her. There were everything from dolls to portable TV’s.

I would like to say the girls, Morgan and Anza, behaved better, but no such luck. They went clothes crazy, and what outfit would be complete without the accessories? Shoes, jewelry, purses, belts, and even hats made it onto their shopping lists. Of course neither group could forget the family Chang, so when they did get back to our Halfling hole, everyone’s vehicles were overloaded with gifts.

Oh Halfling Hole? Well that’s my fault, I have to admit. Halfling is a name used for small fantasy creatures that had furry feet and lived in rustic villages, made popular by that English writer. You can’t use the same word he did because of that pesky copyright thingie. So, since I kept referring to our base and home as the Hole, it became known as Halflington. I know I should be drawn and quartered, but I am truly contrite because I swear I’m not responsible for the rest of it.

There’s more? Yep, I’m afraid so, because you see, we’d been in regular contact with Mike, and he asked what was the name of our Supersuit team. I don’t know who, but I think it was Will, who told him about us living in Halfling Holes and how comfortable it was, of course making fun of us living in a great big huge mansion at the bottom of an enormous pit. So, with typical gamer humor, or lack thereof, we became the Halfling or ‘Orbbit Chevaliers. Please, no Hong Kong or Buckie Bonsai jokes! Just as well for my piece of mind almost no one got it.

Now of course, all that stuff that hadn’t gotten wrapped in the stores had to be taken care of, Wrapping Party! Taking all of our booty to the conference room, amid the Christmas cookies, eggnog and other holiday treats, we got down to the business of enjoying the holiday.

The Warders had dropped by to be debriefed by the Colonel, so had thoughtfully brought Mike with them. While they and my fellow more or less recently christened, Chevaliers were giving their reports, Mike, frustrated at not being able to find a copy of the Christmas movie “It’s a Fantastic Life” with Stewart James, somehow magicked up his own. When he put it up on the big screen in the conference room it was almost like back home with the holiday atmosphere.

No one noticed when the Major came in and started watching. It was noisy with the laughing and good cheer. Dee had somehow convinced a couple of the hidden base’s robots to come out and help with the wrapping. After some four years of having them for her only companions, she was real good with computers.

Of course it was me, or rather Cape I should say, who noticed not everyone was happy. Peeking around I was surprised to find the Major spellbound watching the movie and he was crying! Okay, it wasn’t an all out wailing and teeth gashing cry, but the tears leaking down his face, and what I felt within him, was just as sorrowful.

My first thought was to kick Mike’s butt because he must’ve done something else magical to the movie, right?

Nope, going up to the Major, I put a hand on his shoulder to drag his attention from the movie. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Where did you get this? I thought I’d seen all of Stewart’s movies.” he said steadily, his eyes still glistening.

A little confused and slow on the uptake, I answered, “This is “It’s a Fantastic Life,” the first movie he made after returning from War World Two. Mike couldn‘t find a copy here and I don’t know how, but somehow he came up with one.”

He looked away from the old black and white film, “Could I watch it from the beginning please?”

Seeing how most of everyone else was busy, I thought, ‘Why not?’ “Sure just let me restart it.”

After restarting the DVD player, while the copy warnings and such were having their say, I asked him, “You’ve never seen this before? Did this film never get made here in this world?”

The Major shook his head and softly spoke, “No Misty, it never got made here. I knew Colonel James and called him friend. He was leading a B-29 Superfortress mission over one of the underground Japanese home island mountain strongholds in 1946, when his bomber got shot down by one of their aces in a Kikka jet. He never made it home.”

As the titles rolled he didn’t seem to even notice I was there. Quietly I stepped away, letting him watch his friend in what many in my world call, one of the best holiday films ever made.

Rejoining the pandemonium and diving back into the sea of gifts and wrapping paper, I helped do my share. Everyone was so caught up in trying to outdo each other, that in the chaos, I think Dee even wrapped some of her own presents without realizing it. Somehow Mr. Chang became the arbiter of whether or not a package was properly wrapped. If it wasn’t to spec, it got sent back and the wrapper had to wrap it again. Say that three times fast!

Somewhere along the way the guys turned part of it into a drinking contest with the loser having to take a drink of eggnog if they fell behind. Strange how they kept falling further and further behind, isn’t? For the rest of us there was hot cocoa amongst other beverages that the ever efficient Mr. Chang’s staff had delivered to our impromptu event.

Several of the younger Changs poked their noses in to see what was going on and, despite their elder’s slight disapproval, we pulled them inside to join in. With her robotic elf helpers, Dee was out-wrapping everyone, but a glance from me to our bright-eyed guests had her slipping some of hers into their stacks.

We got everything wrapped at last, and the winner for wrapping the most gifts was one of the smaller kids who spent the whole time grinning so wide I thought he was going to hurt himself. Dee got the most innocent look in her single eye when she pushed the huge stack over to the young boy. Receiving the prize cookie, he jumped up and down like he’d just won a gold medal. Of course the prize cookie was just like all the others we’d been busy snacking on, but no one cared about that, seeing the glow on the little one’s face.

Soon it was dinner time, and bedtime after that. It is amazing just how much eggnog those three guys went though, but after the Warders stopped in, they had help in making it all go away. The Major went over and shook Mike’s hand while exchanging some words. It’d been a very full exciting day, and I was more than ready for bed.

After chasing Dee to bed and doing our part as Santa’s elf helpers, Anza had some other plans. We had our own little Christmas Eve celebration. No, don’t brother asking because you just know I’m not telling!

Just like in households all over the world which honor the holiday, we were all awakened too early by cries of “Santa came!” It was very strange to sorta kinda have a teenage daughter after only being female for only about two months. Dee’d had a fairly good night and I say that because, in her first week staying with us she’d had a few bad ones with nightmares. We were all trying to figure out how this would all work, as Mom’s or sisters, but being a empath let me know how and when Dee needed extra attention. Christmas morning, she was just another child making up for all too many missed ones.

We rolled our eyes at the growing pile of gifts Dee had unwrapped, wondering just where we were going to put it all. The Major took care of that by giving her a small box. Ripping it open Dee found a key inside. A bit mystified she was led upstairs to a room next to ours, and into her own room! There was even an adjoining door to our room that had both Anza and I scratching our heads.

We both knew that door hadn’t been there when we left to go downstairs. I was wondering if, instead of some old Kung Fu master of the martial arts, we’d had Mr. Chang pegged wrong the whole time. Maybe he was one of those ancient Chinese Sorcerers! No matter how they’d done it, Dee loved her new room that was done in a Pink Princess theme. I love being me, that is a girl, but the “Itsy bitsy” remaining parts of me that had pretended to be Greg for so long, found all that PINK just too overpowering for words.

She ran around inside like a hamster in its cage, jumping on her new bed to peeking in the closets. Proving Dee was still a kid at heart, it didn’t take her long to remember there were more gifts for her downstairs. Charging down, ignoring cries of “Don’t run!” she beat us, as we took a more leisurely pace.

While Dee finished opening her last gift and started examining and categorizing them with as a critical eye as any freebooter inspecting their treasure. Anza and I exchanged our gifts to each other. There were a slew of things I gotten her that I thought she would like, but the gift from my heart to hers was something that had taken me a while to get right.

Opening the large box used for dresses and such, Anza pulled out the nude colored body stocking, I could see and feel the question within, wondering if there wasn‘t more to this. Reaching over and feeling the sleeve I encouraged her to feel the unusual texture and how it flexed and seemly changed texture depending on the direction you rubbed it.

Smiling at my love I directed, “Here love, now use your TK to gently stoke it like brushing your hair.”

Feeling my excitement and knowing I was up to something, “What are you up to you minx!?”

She jumped as the foot of the stocking thickened into a low heeled golden colored boot!

Grinning like a mad woman I said, “Now 90 degrees to either side.”

With her eyes wide Anza watched the boot change colors to black. Then, without any urging on my part, she changed it back to gold and then to a neutral gray.

“Where did you get this?” she asked finding the hands and using the same method to form the gloves.

“Why, little ole me made it, honey!” I hammed batting my eyes.

“No really! I mean, this isn’t like those disguises you made, and certainly not a project you buy at the sewing and crafts store.” she pointed out, still playing with the morphic material.

“Really, I did make it, with a little help from Cape. You don’t have a costume, relying on your telekinesis to kinda Velcro a disguise onto yourself. With your force screen you don’t really need the protection, but I’ve seen how you’re a little jealous of how Cape can just whip me up an outfit.

“Even if I could provide you with a Cape of your own, I don’t know if that would be a good idea. Cape is alive in some sense, and not knowing the possible, not so good things about it being a part of me, I won’t risk your health. That said, as you know when I was really trying hard to be a guy, I spent some time with those guys running around in medieval armor, whacking on each other with padded, wooden swords. I learned how to make chain mail, but found out that mail, while great against edged weapons, when it’s struck by a bullet, fragments, making it not protection, but actually makes the wound worse.

“Several years ago I saw a program about a European country having problems with rock falls, had used a net constructed like mail, but designed to deform and thus absorb the impact of falling rocks.

“With my obsessive Science-Fiction reading fetish for ideas, I used Cape to fashion this for you, using materials designed like a kind of Nano-scale chain mail or mesh. Using myself as the dress dummy, and with the help of the Major and the Changs in providing materials, we fashioned this supersuit for you.

“It took a couple of tries until Cape got the idea it had to be adjustable to fit you. We got the idea of forming the transforming parts from the way pop-up books work. The volume is packed away on a nano-scale, like a book, until your TK ‘opens’ it. The color is easy since we were working at such a small scale, to add reflectors that change the color value depending how you turn them, again using TK.

“We had time to test it, and it is very strong, as well as tough. It is at least as good as any bulletproof armor around today, but much lighter. You can wear it under your regular clothes with the hood and gloves rolled up, and no one would know. I don’t think anyone else with TK can muck with it because of your screen, but that could be a weakness. I just hope everyone doesn’t want one. After transforming that Hispanic Merc into her bondage wear, I thought this would be easy.

“Anything but, I’m afraid, with Cape making not just one layer of mail, but many of them sandwiched together like they do layers of Kevlar. It was hard work, but worth it. When Colonel Stone requested I help with his disguises, I was concerned that my secret project for you had been blown, but thankfully it wasn't. I want to be certain the one I love is as protected as I can get her. Merry Christmas, sweetheart!” and I gave her a chaste kiss, seeing how we were public.

She threw down the suit and cried. Sniffling she passed me a jewelry box. Swallowing a lump from pure anticipation, I opened the velvet box. Inside were two sets of matching rings that, while not obvious wedding bands, were clearly meant to symbolize them.

Fighting tears, I met Anza’s eyes. Since she was not over her first cry, they were as red as mine.

“Misty will you be my companion, mate and partner?” she asked me, not only with her voice, but with heart and soul.

Not able to do more than just nod, she took my hand and slipped on the ring.

Trying to make myself understood past my tears, I got out, “Anza will you be my companion, mate and partner?”

“Yes” she answered, in a quivering voice that was better than I had managed.

With trembling hands, I placed the ring on her hand. Then we both burst into happy tears at our engagement. We’d made a little spectacle of ourselves, but the one person I was most worried about going off the deep end was missing.

Glancing around the mounds of wrapping paper and gifts Major Victory caught my eye and just nodded. I knew it. It was a conspiracy! Seeing Morgan in girl mode near him, and the open boxes between them, I saw right then it was past time we had a little ‘girl’ talk. That could wait because of the gift the Major had given us. Right now I had some happy bawling I needed to take care of!

I found out during breakfast, that Tom had been gifted with permission to spend the morning with his mysterious lady, whom we still hadn’t met. This was not only a gift for him and us, but I think also for the Major and Morgan, who were exploring how they felt about each other. Oh, they were very discreet, but hide something like that from an empath? Not hardly!

After a scandalized Mr. Chang recovered from a mass clean up of the common area by getting everyone to pitch in, we were able to spend some time together. Gifts needed to be put away and preparations for more guests arriving for Christmas Dinner had to be made. Dee seemed a little confused at our engagement and the sharing of rings, but after putting her gifts away and a bit of play, she went to sleep, exhausted but happy.

I opened my gift from the Major, which was just an envelope. Expecting just a card, I’d held off opening it, still shaking from Anza’s surprise. There was a card, but along with it was a promise for more training. This time in that F8U Dragonfly warbird of his! For a WWII history and aviation fan geek, trust me this was something special. Sixty years old it might be, but it was still a high performance aircraft that could push the sound barrier and satisfy just about any need for speed.

Anza got something similarly close to her heart, a promise of assistance for attending medical school. Inside were certificates for her GED and correspondence courses that Dr. Lee had arranged for her to take to ease the qualifications. Of course that was only good if we ended up staying, but as a gift, it was something she appreciated.

The Question and his wife showed up for dinner. Mike, still being under the Warders supervision, was able to come with them. There followed another exchange of gifts. I had made a kind of supersuit for him too. It was much simpler than Anza’s costume, without the color changing bit and the unfolding hidden uniform, but just as bulletproof. His was cut just like a black t-shirt with a silver lightning bolt. It was made the same way as Anza’s and the Colonel’s disguises had been, which meant I’d had to feed Cape the right materials as well as the energy. I might be the only person in the room who had lost weight during the Holidays, rather than gain it!

Stealing a page from Batguy, I had made the bolt stand out in bas-relief, so Cape could add even more layers of Nano-mail to it, making that area as tough as we could. That was just in case someone decided the pretty, shiny, silver lightning bolt was a good target and aim point.

He smiled at my veiled disclosure of the avatar he’d chosen. Right back at us, he gave us his gifts. Opening the box we found a pair of slick looking sunglasses and new phones. Picking up the phone, it was like the old ones, being meant to be used for tactical communication while in combat. Unlike the old ones, when I flipped it open the thing unfolded into something like a Star Tripper Quadcorder!

After almost dropping the damn thing in astonishment, I accused him, “You’ve been talking with Reid out in the chopper again, haven’t you?”

He held out his hand for my phone and pretended innocence, “Who me? I wouldn’t do anything like that. Just look what happened to you with your little bet over a laptop. Now these beauties have GPS, and wireless functions built in. A certain AI may have helped with the voice recognition software, so you can access web functions by voice. A sub-vocal microphone can enable you to communicate without making a sound. The learning software is able to translate that into something that sounds much like your normal voices, so it is more intuitive.

“These glasses are actually a wireless display and linked to your new phones. They can display information relayed to your phones, and even tactical situation stuff. You guys are the experts now, so I’ll leave that to you to configure. Additionally, these babies offer ballistic protection and automatically tint themselves for protection against flash/bang blinding type attacks, as well as for sunny days. Made from memory retaining materials, they’ll change when tactical from this stylish look, into a visor to help keep your identities secret.

Turning the phone over to show a cartoon furry footed knight jousting on pony back, “This is the panic button. Hit it three times and it pages all the other phones with your current GPS location. It is keyed to your biometrics so as to prevent accidents,” he handed it back to me.

I winced, studying the cartoon Halfling Chevalier. Never, never should I’ve started referring to our base as the Hole! It was all vivid in my mind’s eye! There we are confronting the villains as we boldly announce “We’re the ‘Orrbbit Chevalier’s! Surrender or face your doom!” The ones that doesn’t have a clue are ready to kick our butts, while the ones that do are laughing theirs off!

Sighing, I found that Mike had set the things to ‘unfold’ themselves automatically, only the first time we opened them. Sourly I thought, ‘just like the snake leaping out of a can.’ The problem I had was, after playing with it, I couldn’t see how he’d done it. I had used Cape to make Anza’s new costume and Mike’s shirt. How had he done it?”

“Mike how did you do this?” I asked. Getting suspicious, and knowing his avatar used magic, “Did you cheat?”

Grinning and enjoying himself, he raised his thumb and forefinger in the age old symbol of something small, “Just a little bit.”

We jumped, as a small green spark arced between his fingers!

Other gifts exchanged between us, but the only other one that sticks with me was the one Mike gave Major Victory.

Opening the box, it was full of DVD movies. The Major just smiled, “Thank you Mike. An old dinosaur like me never collected these new fangled DVD things. These movies will make a nice start to a collection.”

Thinking back, did I see a tear in the big guy eyes?

I gave Mike another accusing scowl, because I had an idea that those flicks might be a little hard to find around here, but he just smiled back at me.

The rest of the evening, while not as exciting, was still enjoyable. Tom had returned for dinner and, from the huge smile on his face, his paramour must’ve had a very special Christmas present for him. He was so jovial that it was hard not to believe that something carnal had been involved. She had been invited, but hadn’t accepted. I was willing to offer this mysterious woman thanks for helping make the holiday more pleasant for everyone. Something else for the list, along with having a long talk with Morgan. Meet Tom’s lady and find out what she’s done with the real Tom!

When things started winding down, giving Anza the high sign, we kidnapped Morgan. Using the old ‘the girls have to go to the potty’ line we hustled her inside the female sanctum.

Anza wasting no time went for the jugular, “Okay, give, girlfriend! Don’t hold out on us. We want details!

Her mouth fell open in shock! Oh lord, I think the world is going to end. We caught Morgan flatfooted!

With her eyes wide, trying to dodge the question, she half stuttered, “Hmmm, What are you talking about?”

Anza crossed her arms, making it plain she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Playing my part as Jeff to her Mutt, “Morgan, do you really think the Telepath and Empath wouldn’t notice how you and the Major have been making goo-goo eyes at each other?”

With her thoughts racing behind her green eyes, “It’s not like that! I mean we just like each other. Charles and I like spending time together.”

Anza shook herself like a bullterrier who’d found a juicy bone, “Charles! First names no less! You can’t stop there!”

Giving her a hug, I told her “Morgan, I hate to tell you this, but while both of you may be saying one thing, you two sure seem to be feeling something else.”

She glowed! “Really? He feels it too?” Her words were followed by a deep blush as she realized just what she’d let out of the bag.

Anza, relenting, hugged her too, “Honey, we are all new at this. I never would have thought it of the dinosaur after he found out about your switch-eroo power. What we both know, is he does have feelings for you. I don’t trust guys that much and thought that maybe he swung both ways, but inside, he only glows when you’re fem. Will that be a problem for you?

Morgan still blushing, “No lie about this being new! I do enjoy girl-time, but I also like being a guy. The respect and not dealing with being ogled is good. But the dressing up and not having to be afraid of showing my feelings, is wonderful too. You know, being treated nice, and like I’m special?”

Thinking about it for moment I suggested, “You like being a guy because it doesn’t have the disadvantages of being a woman. You’re treated more as an equal and, unless I’m completely off in left field here, it is comforting because it is familiar.

The both of them thought about it and then Anza, “We got thrown into the deep end, but you got a chance to test the waters. When it got a little too much you could always just change back. Does that sounds right?” she asked.

With her head cocked in thought, “Kind of … yes. I don’t think I ever felt the way you two seemed to have. Back home it was ripping you both up. Danny did what he could to make things rights, by the only means he had.” Morgan paused, “But Greg, I think, was heading for a meltdown. He had trouble finding and keeping a job, and although he was going to college I don‘t think that would have been the end of his problems.

“I just never felt like that, but now that I’ve had the chance to experience girl-time, I don’t know if I want to give it up. Charles has made this worse because I do like the way he treats me as Fem, and the way it makes me feel. This is so confusing, because I want to be Fem when I’m with him. In guy-mode, I don’t even want to think the other angle, if know what I mean. I think that, as a girl I like guys, and as a guy I like girls, no offense to you two.

We both smiled back at her while holding hands, “None taken.”

Closing her eyes, “I think this all started when, during training we found that as Lady Diamond, I was less susceptible to that ‘Screw me now’ glow of his. We spent a lot of time together anyway, because of my being the team leader, and after finding common interests, started spending even more together.

“It amazed me that I was beginning to feel all warm and tingly when we were together, but I thought it was just me. I hadn’t been a girl all that long, really.

She wagged a finger at us, “Then you two just had to go and tell me he feels the same way! Do you have any idea of how this could end?”

Anza and I turned and looked at each other. Smiling, we turned back to our friend, holding up the rings we’d given each other just that morning.

Giving a small cry, she covered her head with her arms on the vanity, “You two are so not helping!”

“It’s okay,” I told her. “We’re the bearers of the news, but what you feel for each other is true.”

Anza knelt next to her. “Honey, we are here for you. Didn’t you just tell us Greg was tearing himself apart because of his denial? That goes for you, too, girlfriend. You’re going to have talk with him about this.”

I added, “She’s right. We going into harm’s way and you know better than I how important it is to have a clear head when everything starts falling apart. One thing you have to make clear to him is his Bio-field thingie is not responsible. He’s going to jump to that conclusion anyway, so you’ll have to stop that reaction cold in its tracks.”

“That’s right girlfriend,” Anza counseled, “That old fossil is so old school, if he thought for a second he was taking advantage of you, he’d go all noble and try and ‘dump’ you for your own good. You have to lie and tell him all the other things you love about him. His generosity, the way he treats the Chang’s, who worship the ground he walks on, not like servants, but like family, that kind of stuff.”

Morgan bristled, “Who’s a fossil? And what do you mean by lie? He’s got a lot of traits that have nothing to do with his physical …” and trailed, off seeing our wide eyed interest.

Breaking up in laughter, Anza giggled, “You’ve got it bad, girl!”

Smiling at us despite herself, Morgan scolded, “You two are incorrigible!”

“Did we ever claim to be tractable?” On that note, we went back to our guests, arm in arm, while some no doubt wondered what we were up to now.

Unfortunately, like every year, the holiday came to an end. The whole gang was in good spirits, so I would give this year’s Christmas two thumbs up! You don’t get engaged every year, you know. That would take all the fun out of it!

A week later we were waiting prepared and ready for trouble. The Colonel and I had been concerned that the Syndicate would try something on New Years. We were on alert, but to everyone’s relief the ball drop in New Riverside was uneventful. The city was able to ring in the new year with the usual merrymaking.

As a cover for Halflington being on full alert and ready to respond, a story was put out about a private party. A considerable supply of party supplies was ordered and delivered. Late that night, or rather early the next morning, when we were sure trouble had passed New Riverside by, we had plenty of bubbly stuff to toast to our own futures and dreams for the coming year.

***

Her preternaturally sharp eyes, aided by the high tech image intensifiers, searched the quarry, turned eccentric millionaire’s playground. Hidden in the winter wooded area on a neighboring hill, her normally colorful costume was now muted browns and yellows, which made her the next best thing to invisible among the fallen leaves. Her bright silver Omni-staff was concealed in its sheath. Scattered behind her were more than 20 of what the media called, ‘Syndicate Enforcers’. Beyond them were another two full platoons of the mercenary manned Black Guards.

The entire mission rode on her shoulders, and her choices tonight were anything but easy. Intelligence sources were told that a party was planned for tonight, making it the perfect time to eradicate this thorn in the side of the Master’s plans. Two full squads consisting of the Meta’s and Mutants of her Invincibles, and the two platoons of the highly trained soldiers and/or lesser powered mutants of the Black Guards, were a formidable army many counties would fall before.

The problem was, not only was there not a party going on, but instead it was an alerted, prepared stronghold. The previous occupant, Dr. Vole, had designed it as a fortress and, contrary to appearances, this Mr. Roland had done nothing to compromise that. In fact, she suspected it was more of one than ever before. The sensors, robots, and weapon emplacements had been upgraded, and the few spies she’d been able to get inside had promptly been ejected.

Then she had to consider Cazadora’s report of the half to full dozen Meta’s that included those that captured her at the Mall battle. If they were trained much like her own Invincibles, they could give them considerable problems. No, she sadly decided, it was just too risky. There was no doubt in her mind she could roll over them, if for no other reason, with just numbers. The risk was that she would end up spending her forces to do it.

No one knew for sure who Mr. Roland was, but they did have some guesses. If true, he wouldn’t go down without one hell of a fight. The plan of taking the women and children of the facility as hostages had been shot down when all of them had gone to ground, rather than busy with guests.

She was confident that no matter how tough Roland was, or how many supersuits they had, her people could take them out. But attack an alert fortress and still have enough people standing afterwards to carry out the rest of the Master’s plans?

Unhappily she tapped out the code for abort on her tactical commo pad. The Master wasn’t going to be pleased, but if she suggested this had been a trap he might be more lenient than usual. She was a favorite, after all. If worst came to worst, she knew her mutant physiology made her as near to invulnerable as any mythic figure from any work of literature.

Patience eased herself back off her spotter’s post. Her desire for revenge for being expelled from the Naval Academy because of the manifesting of her mutation had put her here. She had ceased to wonder if it was worth it, but the small part that was still her Marine father’s daughter, was frightened she was starting to enjoy giving and receiving the pain she carried out at the Master’s request.

Shivering at the thought, she saw the glint of pleasure from her Invincibles at the mission abort. Some were unwilling recruits forced into service, while others competed with her for the approval of the one they’d all sold their souls to. They knew the likely punishment she was going to receive. Tall and unbowed, Patience walked to her transport, wondering what her Annapolis classmates would think of her now.

Heroes of Justice Part III
The End

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Comments

HOJ notes

Hello and thanks to everyone who has been following my first novel sized work. Your PM's, comments and other encouragement has helped me. The good news is this is Part 3 of 4. The final part is in rewrite and is being worked on. Can't say for sure how long till the last will be finished but I hope soon.
Thanks!
hugs!
grover

Hmm...

I'm sure Syndicate is copyrighted somewhere... might want to rethink that name.

:p

Great story.

JC

The Legendary Lost Ninja

Love it.

I love a lycra-spandex piece once in a while, especially if it is well thought out. A good sign is the characters are more 'human' rather than having the humanity always being subordinated to the character's powers.

Now, having said that, my point applies to the bad guys also. Much as I would hate having to delve into the complex motivation behind 'evil doers' if I were an author.

I think this is a good start towards a universe. Hint, hint.

Thanks Grover :).

Kim

Another great chapter in what has become one of my faves.

Having been a RPG gamer for over 25 years, this story just appeals to me, on several different levels. Additionally, I feel like I'm getting in on the ground floor, seeing another great talent getting started.

WELL DONE, grover, my friend. You've set a high standard for yourself with this epic, and I am looking forward with great anticipation, to seeing part four. I have no doubt that part four will not only live up to the first three parts, but will surpass them.

Your fan,
Catherine Linda Michel

As a T-woman, I do have a Y chromosome... it's just in cursive, pink script. Y_0.jpg

Heroes of Justice

Gawd, I had almost forgotten how awesome this story really is.