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

Note: Thanks again djkauf for correcting my many mistakes.

** Chapter 31 **

<Mon Feb 19 20:52:23 EST 2007>

I start to follow Barb and Amanda, but I can’t leave my mom.  I only get 20 meters before I stop and look back.  My mom looks very brave and the dudes getting out of the Escalade look a little tougher than I expected.  They are all sporting military style haircuts and are wearing bulky jackets that look like they have armor in them.  Kind of like motorcycle jackets, which seems strange since they aren’t riding motorcycles. What I should I do?

>Evasion Recommended.
>Mission Success Factor=95%

No! I can’t leave my mom. I have to help her!  Even though my dad never sat me down and told me that it’s my duty to protect my mom, that duty is just something that has always been understood.  When Dad isn’t available, it is my job to protect my family.  A new window pops up in my HUD.

>New mission parameters accepted...
>Assessing Enemy Target threat ratings...
>Assigning enemy target priority...

“I’ll get the little mutie bitch while you all deal with the breeder!” Target_4 yells, exiting the front passenger door.  His face is twisted with rage and hatred. I’ve never seen that in anyone before and it is more than a little intimidating. Plus, he has a nasty looking knife in his right hand.  

The knife in his hand actually helps me focus. The knife, I can handle. I have performed tons of simulated self-defense drills with knife wielding opponents, but the prospect of actually doing that for real has me feeling a little frightened.  Okay, more than just a little, a lot.  

>Target_4 Weapon Identified!
>USMC OKC-3S Bayonet

Oh, that’s helpful to know, not. My vision switches to something that is a combination of low-light with thermographic.  The thermographic part shows me that he is definitely wearing some kind of armored jacket because I can see large cool spots that cover all the more vulnerable parts of his upper torso.  These bastards aren’t here by random chance.  This is an ambush and that tells me what I have to do. I have to fight these assholes and that really pisses me off.  Why couldn’t they have just left us alone?  

>Administering Combat Stims

The fear and uncertainty fade, leaving me with only one thing; a calm fury. I have never felt this pissed, yet clear headed and rational at the same time. The only thing that matters to me is stopping all these assholes from hurting my mom.

They aren’t people. They are targets. The enemy target on an intercept course with me is just something that needs to be eliminated before I can proceed with the primary mission of protecting my mom.  

Target_4 closes to within 10 meters of my current location before I respond to the threat.  It looks like he and everything around me is moving in slow motion. I can’t help myself, I smile.  I just feel so good and everything else seems so trivial.  It’s like I’m playing Ghost Warrior at the store again.

I almost laugh when a look of confusion briefly flashes across the face of Target_4.  He is running at me with his stupid knife out-stretched, like he expects me to run in panic at the sight of it or stand there and let him stab me with it.

Unlike my last combat mission, as I spring forward to engage the enemy, I remember to cast my Blur spell to help confuse him.  The spell seems to help.  He pauses for a nano-second as he tries to make sense of what he is seeing.

“What tha?” Target_4 asks as his knife hand moves forward in an unguided and desperate effort to stab me. I grab his wrist with my left hand to control his knife.  It’s like, “dude, you’re moving so slow.”  Then, I rotate my body counter-clockwise into him as I grab him just above his right elbow with my right hand and bend slightly at the hip to help kick him up and over me.  He sails over me and I add to his momentum by using his arm to swing him like he is a baseball bat. His body slams into the parking lot. Unlike in class, I don’t try to go easy on him and pull my throw, but at the same time, I don’t use all my strength on him either.  Not because I don’t want to, but because it would waste energy and slow me down by putting my body off balance for a few critical nanoseconds.  

Again, it is The Mission that is important. Not my personal feelings or anger. Getting to my mom and protecting her is the only thing that matters. Anything that stops or slows me down will affect The Mission.

>Target_4 eliminated...
>Mission Success Factor=72%
>Agent Survival Factor=61%

Target_2 is watching me from between the driver’s side door and the Escalade while Target_1 has a hold on my mom’s left arm.  

Target_2 looks surprised.  “Holy shit!  John!” He yells.

I guess that Target_4’s name is John. Not important, I am 20 meters away when I begin my run to intercept Target_1.

>Enemy Firearm detected.
>Enemy Target_2 priority rating altered.
>Mission Success Factor=63%
>Agent Survival Factor=52%

At 10 meters, Target_2 rushes to aim a gun at me through the open window of the driver’s side door.

>Target_2 Weapon Identified!
>Colt M1911A1 Caliber .45

He doesn’t have the weapon aimed anywhere near me when I duck under the window frame and punch into the open door with my shoulder.  The impact of my body plus the extra full strength push of my shoulder catches Target_2 by surprise as the door he is hiding behind slams into him and knocks him into the Escalade’s door jamb.  I hear his legs make a crunching sound as they are caught between the door and the running boards.  The impact also knocks his weapon from his hand as he starts to crumple to the ground.

>Target_2 disabled...
>Mission Success Factor=81%
>Agent Survival Factor=73%

With the driver’s door now mostly closed, I can see Target_3, the middle rear passenger starting to move out from behind the driver’s side rear passenger door while my system tracks Target_5, the passenger side rear enemy running around the back of the Escalade.

>Enemy Firearm detected.
>Enemy Target_3 priority rating altered
>Mission Success Factor=76%
>Agent Survival Factor=67%

Armor jackets and serious firepower, what is up with these guys?  

>Target_3 Weapon Identified!
>Benelli M4 Entry Shotgun
>Recalculating Mission Success Factors...
>Mission Success Factor=64%
>Agent Survival Factor=53%

That doesn’t sound good. Target_3 has his shotgun pointing down and into the ground.  He looks startled by my arrival too. “Son of a bitch!  She’s so fucking hard to see!” He yells as he starts to bring his shotgun up to fire it at me.  

I should be peeing my pants right now. Whatever that “Combat Stim” thing is, it must be helping me somehow because this totally feels like a video game to me.  All I need is my own gun to make it 100% like a video game.  With my own gun, I could just snap a few shots at each target and save my mom.  Just like in the sims, easy peazy.

I guess that I will just have to do this the hard way. It is a shame that I don’t have the time to grab the gun that Target_2 dropped, but fortunately for me, Target_3 is right handed and the rear passenger door is partially blocking his aim.  He can’t just snap it straight up and fire it at me. He has to take a step to his left to clear the door before he can bring it fully to bear on me.

I use that extra fraction of a second to jump up and towards him, hands in the guard position; I tuck my legs up and into my chest to keep them from getting hit by the shotgun.

<Boom!>

Target_3 fires the shotgun as I sail above the spot where he was pointing the thing when he reflexively pulls the trigger.

From the edge of my vision, I notice as Target_1 pushes my mom away from him and he reaches for something inside his jacket.  I want to take advantage of the fact that he let go of my mom and eliminate him, but Target_3 has priority.  As my jump takes me over Target_3’s still rising shotgun barrel, I lash out with a front snap kick to his face, hitting him square in his nose with the ball of my right foot.  His head snaps back from the impact as blood flies from out of his very broken nose.

<Boom!>

The shotgun fires one more time. I hear the sound of the shotgun pellets hitting the Escalade and based on the weapon’s firing arc, Target_2 may have been hit by friendly fire. I don’t have time to verify that condition because Target_5 has rounded the back of the Escalade and he is in a firing stance with his weapon mostly aimed at me.  The only thing that was stopping him from firing at me sooner was the fact that Target_3 was between me and him and now that Target_3 is falling toward the ground while I am still up in the air, he has a pretty good shot at me.

>Enemy Firearm detected.
>Target_5 Weapon Identified!
>Colt M1911A1 Caliber .45

No shit, but the fact that I am about to be shot doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

“Brianna!”  My mom screams in panic.

>Enemy Target_5 priority rating altered.
>Mission Success Factor=43%
>Agent Survival Factor=22%

That little bit of data is what bothers me.  There isn’t a lot that I can do about getting shot, but I might be able to lessen the damage and retain some mission capability.  Maybe even enough to still succeed with my primary mission.  Based on the angle of his weapon, if he pulls the trigger right this nanosecond, he will hit me in my stomach, dead center.  As I fall back to the ground, his aiming point rises to more critical portions of my upper torso.  I twist and rotate my upper body to the left to try and reduce his odds of hitting a critical system. My feet hit the ground, straddling the fallen Target_3.

<Crack!>

>Enemy hit detected!
>Right shoulder destroyed.
>Combat effectiveness reduced to 62%.
>Mission Success Factor=36%
>Agent Survival Factor=18%

The force of the impact spins me around, clockwise, but I don’t feel a thing.  Destroyed?  That sounds bad.  How come that doesn’t happen in the movies?  Shouldn’t I just have a little hole in my shoulder and only need to say “ouch” or something more R rated? Why is my shoulder “destroyed”?

>Damage consistent with Hollow-Point Ammunition
>Repairs initiated.

I can’t let him shoot me a second time.  My right arm doesn’t want to respond to my commands, but I am still able to move the rest of my body.  As Target_5 takes another half-step towards me, I continue the clockwise rotation that the hit to my shoulder started. Spinning on my left foot, I rotate my body out of his direct line of fire while performing a roundhouse kick with my right leg. I hit the side of his left knee with my right foot and as his knee starts to collapse, I transfer my weight into his knee, pushing my foot down and his knee into the pavement.

<Crack!>

His weapon fires again, but this time the round flies harmlessly past me and ricochets off the pavement next to the Escalade.  He starts to look up at me as I continue my clock-wise spin and I hit him in the side of his face with my left elbow.  A few of his teeth and some blood spray out of his mouth as he begins to crumple to the ground, unconscious.

>Target_5 eliminated...
>Mission Success Factor=82%
>Agent Survival Factor=41%

Oh, that’s good. At least my success and survival chances have gone up now.  Target_5 is no longer important to me as I scan for Target_1.

>Enemy Firearm detected.
>Target_1 Weapon Identified!
>Colt M1911A1 Caliber .45

Come on, assholes!  What in the hell?

>Combat readiness increased to 63%.
>Mission Success Factor=72%
>Agent Survival Factor=15%

Nice, an entire 1% combat effectiveness increase there.  Go-go Gadget nanites! The survival percentage has me a little worried, but now I am pretty sure that I can kick his ass even if he shoots me.  It doesn’t matter if I die. As long as my mom is safe.  

Target_1 has his weapon aimed right at me, but he is hesitating.  

I’m not. With my left hand, I reach down and pick Target_5 up by the back of his handy armored jacket.  Using his body as a shield, I throw the unconscious Target_5 into Target_1 as I rush forward.

>Mission Success Factor=92%
>Agent Survival Factor=55%

Wow, now that is a good increase!  Target_1 is knocked back by the impact of his buddy and as he hits the ground, his weapon is knocked out of his hand.  He’s sprawled on his back and in that position, he’s going to be a little harder to grapple with now that my shoulder is worthless, but I think that I can still eliminate him pretty fast.  

Target_1 confuses me.  He is crying like a little baby. “I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean to try and hurt you.”  He says while looking up at me with something that looks suspiciously like love to me.   

That doesn’t matter. He’s a threat. I need to eliminate the threat to have a 100% mission success factor.  I jump on him with my left knee in his chest, stunning him the impact knocks the air out of him.  My right foot to holds down his left arm.  A knife hand strike to his throat should take care of him.

“Brianna!  Stop!” My mom yells.

>Combat readiness increased to 64%.
>Mission Success Factor=87%
>Agent Survival Factor=95%

Now I am really confused.  Why would my mom order me to stop?  If I don’t eliminate Target_1, how can I have a successful mission? I look up to my mom.  Her nose is bleeding.  Did Target_1 hit her?  Is that affecting her tactical assessment?

“I know that relationships caused by stressful situations never work out, but will you marry me?” Target_1 asks as he gasps for air as his eyes begin to tear up.

I look back down to Target_1.  Something isn’t right. Why would he try to kill me, and then ask me to marry him?  He isn’t making any hostile moves. I can still eliminate him.

“I’m sorry! Please forgive me my love.”  Target_1 says.

Now I know that something isn’t right with him.  He is clearly delusional. Maybe the stress of combat broke him or something. Whatever it is, it has eliminated him as a threat.

>Target_1 Subdued...

>Combat readiness increased to 65%.
>Mission Successful!
>Total Mission Time: 15.02 seconds

>Critical Repairs in progress...
>Agent Survival Factor=100%
>Estimated Time to 100% combat readiness: 9.29 minutes

I stand and scan the area for additional threats.  None of the other Targets are operational and it looks like Target_2 was hit by the shotgun.  He has a huge hole in the side of his jacket and his body is already cooling. I still don’t feel anything. I think that I should be grossed out by the sight of the dead dude, but I’m not.  He doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real to me.  The only thing that is real to me is The Mission and my mom.

I drop my Blur spell. There is no reason to maintain it anymore. It seemed to provide some benefit, but I still got shot. Perhaps next time I should try further counter-measures. Now what do I do?

>Gather enemy intelligence

“Bree? What’s wrong with you?” My mom asks, sounding worried.

I look over to her.  “I sustained damage to my right shoulder that initially reduced my combat readiness to 62%.  Repairs are currently in progress.  100% combat readiness in 9.03 minutes.”

I turn back to Target_1.  Thankfully, he has stopped crying.  “Who are you and why did you attack us?” I ask him.

“I’m so so sorry!  I didn’t know who you were! Please, forgive me my love!” He says, not really answering my question.  

Has he been conditioned to resist direct questioning techniques?  “Who are you and why did you attack us? I ask him again.

Now he starts to cry again.  “I know that you don’t know me, my love, but I’m David Gillespie.  I don’t know why now, but I hated all muties for how they are planning on enslaving all of humanity.  I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to call you a mutie.  You’re name is Brianna, right?” He asks, sounding contrite.

I didn’t know that getting a prisoner to talk could be so easy. “Yes, my name is Brianna.  Why did you attack us?”

“Brianna!  What is wrong with you?  Why can’t I feel you?” My mom asks as I feel my body move. I look over and see that she has grabbed my right arm in an attempt to interrupt my interrogation of the prisoner.  I look down at my hand.  It is covered with blood, my blood.  I still don’t feel any pain.  

She lets go of my arm and recoils.  “Oh my god, Brianna! I’m so sorry.”

How much blood did I lose?

>0.78 pints

Am I still bleeding?

>Negative. Surface layer external tissue damage repaired.

Oh, that’s good.  I bet that my clothes are ruined, but I need to continue with the interrogation of the prisoner.  I turn back to look at him. “Continue, please.”

“Oh, well, umm, my friends and I attacked you because we are in Humanity First. One of our sympathizers called our hotline and reported your position. I can’t believe that I considered them my friends after what they tried to make me do to you!”  David says as he starts to cry again.

My mom interrupts his debriefing. “Brianna Nicole! Stop this instant!  What is wrong with you?”

I look back to her.  “I told you. I sustained damage to my right shoulder that initially reduced my combat readiness to 62%...”

“Brianna! Stop it!” My mom orders.  

She reaches for my left arm and studies my face for a second. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t I feel you?”

Feel me? I’m right here. I don’t understand.  Her nose looks like it has stopped bleeding. Did she take damage elsewhere?  Where are the police?

>Local Law Enforcement radio transmissions detected.
>Two vehicle based radio transmitters detected ~0.5 miles away.
>ETA 33.2 seconds.

“The police will be here in 33 seconds.” I say to her.  Maybe they can help her.

Okay, intelligence gathered, now what?

>Report to command

Oh yeah.  I should contact Mr. Reilly now.

>Attempting to connect....
>Login Failure
>Not Authorized

“Mom, we need to notify command of our situation.” I say.

My question seems to help her focus, she stops crying. “Command? Who is that?” She asks.

“Deputy Director Nicholas Reilly and President of United States are current recognized command authority figures.”  I say.

My mom digs into her purse for her cell phone. “I can’t call the President and I don’t know Mr. Reilly’s number.”

I decide that it will probably be faster if I dial his number for her.  I reach for her cell phone, but as my hand touches it; her cell phone opens up to me.  I tell her cell phone to dial Mr. Reilly’s number. “Your phone is now dialing Mr. Reilly’s number.”  I say, as I let go of her cell phone.

Mr. Reilly answers his phone in only two rings.  “Nicholas Reilly speaking.” He says.

“Hello? Mr. Reilly?  It’s Jennifer.  We went to the Patrick Henry Mall with Barb and Amanda and someone from Humanity First attacked us on our way out.   Brianna is acting weird, I don’t know what to do and Brianna says that the police will be here in 30 seconds!” My mom says, hysterically into her phone.

I check on the status of the police cars.

>Two vehicle based radio transmitters detected ~0.25 miles away.
>ETA Unknown. Position Stationary.

“The two police vehicles have stopped at approximately .25 miles away from our current position.” I say using my mom’s phone to provide Mr. Reilly with a current update.

“Whisper, what happened?” Mr. Reilly asks, using my codename.

“Sir, Five enemies in an Escalade SUV attacked us as we exited the mall. Current position is southwest parking lot. GPS location 37.110824, -76.496714.  One enemy KIA via friendly fire, three disabled, status unconscious, one enemy detained for questioning.  Humanity First affiliation confirmed by enemy combatant.”  I say.

“Okay, Whisper.  I need you to stand-down.  Do not resist.  The police are probably waiting for backup.  They are probably going to be confused and nervous. Do you understand?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Yes sir.  Umm, standing down.” I say.

>Suspending Combat Stim production...

“Oh my gawd! Bree!” Amanda says as she rushes in to give me a hug.

“Amanda!  Stop!” Barb yells with has her cell phone up to her ear.  She must be on the phone with the police still.

My legs suddenly feel like pudding as what just happened hits me full force.  Amanda slows my descent as my legs collapse from under me. I end up sitting on my knees and butt.  The only reason don’t fall completely over is due to Amanda’s hold on my left arm.  She sinks to her knees beside me and pulls me close to keep me from falling over.  My head is resting on her shoulder and I feel so tired.

“Oh no!  Bree! You’re bleeding!” Amanda says as she rapidly removes her hand from my right shoulder.   

For the first time since I was shot, I feel something from my shoulder. Pain, and pain is good. It means that I am still alive and the pain actually helps revive me, a little.  I pull away from her and I am able to sit up under my own power, but I don’t think I am ready to try standing again.

Barb starts to speak again. “Yes ma’am.  It looks like the five attackers are down.  Umm, Bree beat them up.  Umm, I don’t think that I can say.  Yes ma’am, sorry.  Oh, my daughter just ran to Bree. It looks like she has been shot.  Please, can you send someone to help now?”

Amanda looks concerned. “Bree?  Are you okay? Why aren’t you saying anything?”  She asks.  

I look at her and point to my head while silently saying “On the phone.”   Amanda looks a little confused by that.

>Two vehicle based radio transmitters detected ~0.23 miles away.
>ETA 20 seconds...

“Sir, the two police vehicles are moving again.  ETA 20 seconds.” I say as I start to feel a little pain from my shoulder.

“Okay. I have some calls to make.  Just do what they tell you, but do not let them take you away.” Mr. Reilly says with a sigh.

“Yes sir, sorry sir. I didn’t mean to.” I say with a slight whine in my mental voice.  My shoulder is really starting to hurt now and I’m starting to worry about what I just did.

“I know. That’s what Nikki says to me all the time too.” Mr. Reilly says with a soft sigh before he hangs up his phone.

The two police cars finally arrive.  The officers look a little nervous as they exit their vehicles and draw their weapons.  The drawn weapons cause my targeting system to lock on to them and identify them as Enemy Targets seven through ten.

“Yes, they are here now, thanks! Okay.” Barb says into her cell phone.  

>Combat readiness increased to 68%.
>Estimated Time to 100% combat readiness: 8.57 minutes
>Resume Combat Stim production? [Y]/n

Umm, no thanks.  The police are not enemies.  I debate listening in on Barb’s conversion with the police, but she hangs it up after that. One of the officers from the second car has his shotgun out and is standing watch while his partner works with one of the officers from the first car to check on the fallen H1 dudes.  The fourth officer is heading over to our location.  He looks very concerned and hyper alert as he divides his attention between his fellow officers, the H1 dudes on the ground and the four of us.

“Are you ladies okay?” He asks while he looks a little closer at me.

Barb, Amanda and my mom all nod their heads as I divide my attention between him and the other two officers as they begin their inspection of the Escalade and the H1 dudes on the ground.  

“Ma’am, have you been injured?” The officer asks, his eyes widen with surprise as I look up to him.

I glance down at my shoulder before looking back up to him. “Umm, yes.  I was shot in my shoulder.” I say as calmly as I can.  My shoulder is throbbing with pain, but it is also slowly starting to feel better.  Like maybe, I went from a 10 to a 9.5 on the pain scale. I can’t believe that I didn’t feel it sooner. I look over at my mom and she is looking a little relieved by something.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I ask, trying to ignore the nervous looking police officers.  One of them has  his gun out and that is setting off all kinds of alarms for me.

“I can feel you again.” She says with a slight smile.

“Oh, I guess it was the fight...” I say.

“Ma’am?”  The police officer asks me again as he holsters his gun, takes out his flashlight and steps closer to me.

“Umm, sorry sir.  I’m feeling a little bit of pain right now.”  I say, understating how I am feeling by just a tad.  The blood dripping down my arm and soaking my top is a little distracting, but I am glad that the bleeding has stopped.

>Local Law Enforcement radio transmissions detected.
>Three vehicle based radio transmitters incoming.
>ETA 37.6 seconds.

The radios attached to the officer’s vests update the officers here with the inbound help arriving and they visibly relax.  I guess that the sight of one dead dude, plus three unconscious dudes and copious amounts of firepower lying around kind of spooks them a little.

“Holy shit!” One of the officers inspecting the Escalade says as he checks the back of the SUV.

“What is it, Banks?” The officer with the shot gun asks nervously.

“The back of this thing is fucking loaded with weapons, body armor and ammo!” He says, incredulously.

The officer’s eyes widen with surprise as shines his light on my shoulder. “Ma’am, you should be lying down. I can’t believe that you aren’t showing more signs of being in shock right now.” He says, incredulously.

Even with the police here, I don’t want to stay sitting on the ground. What if one of the H1 dudes wakes up and tries to attack me again?  “Umm, except for the pain, I feel mostly okay.” I say as I try to sit up a little straighter in preparation for standing back up.

I look back over at Amanda.  She looks extremely worried about me.  “Umm, Bree?” She asks.

“Umm, can you help me a little?” I ask, looking to Amanda.

“Ma’am, you really shouldn’t try to stand right now.” The police officer says, frowning with concern.

“I’m okay...” I say as I cradle my right arm to keep it from moving and somehow find the strength to push myself up with my legs.  Amanda decides to help me for the last bit and I find myself leaning a little against her after I am on my feet again.

The police officer frowns.  “I hate to ask this, but I’m going to need to report the fact that an apparent mutant was involved here.  Do you have your MID card?”

I glance to my mom. She doesn’t look happy.  “I’m sorry sir, but I just manifested this weekend and I just started my Powers Testing today.”  I say, feeling guilty and worried about not having my card yet.  I’ve heard that mutants can get into a lot of trouble if they don’t have their card, but I’ve also heard that there is a small grace period for recently emerged mutants.

He smiles at me. “Oh, okay.  If that is the case, I’m sure there won’t be a problem.  Sorry, but I had to ask.”  He says as he glances over to a shivering Amanda before looking over to my mom and Barb.  

He turns to my mom and Barb. “Ma’am, it’s freezing out here. Do you all have any jackets?”.

It’s freezing?  

>External temperature 38 degrees Fahrenheit

Okay, not freezing, but close. I don’t feel that cold, but I look over and I see that Amanda is starting to shiver.  Using my left arm, I hug Amanda to me to help share some warmth.  She stares at her blood soaked hand before turning back to me with tears in her eyes.

“Umm, back in the car.” My mom says.

“My new clothes and a sweater are lying back there.” I say with a glance to where I dropped my bags. I don’t even remember dropping them before I began my attack run.

Amanda isn’t sure what to about my blood on her hand.  It doesn’t look like she got any of it on her clothes.  I gently grab her hand and wipe it against my shirt.  It’s ruined anyway. What’s a little more blood on it going to do?  The pain has dropped some more and the estimated time to 100% combat readiness is now down to 8.3 minutes.  I still can’t feel or move my right arm though.

“I’ll go get our jackets from the car.” Barb says as she turns to head back to her car.

Officer Heinricks, according to his uniform’s name tag, looks back to me. “So, umm, ma’am. It looks like you got tagged pretty good there and I am surprised that you even managed to stand. Do you have some kind of regen power or something?” He asks.

“I think so sir.”  I say.

He nods his head. “Lucky. Okay, then well, the EMTs will be here in a minute or two.  I will let them know to check on you.  If you start to feel any worse, please let one of us know.”

“Yes sir.” I say.

Officer Heinricks turns to David, the H1 dude, with a stern expression. “You. Are you injured?” He asks without much sympathy.

“Umm, no sir and I’m really sorry.” David says, sounding very sincere.

An addition three police cars arrive with lights and sirens blazing.  An ambulance is trailing behind them.

Officer Heinricks looks surprised by David’s response.  “Okay, stand up, slowly and let’s get you into my cruiser.” He says as he watches David cautiously.  

David stands and automatically raises his arms.

“Okay, turn.” Officer Heinricks says as he carefully frisks David for weapons.  He finds a knife, some ammo, a cell phone and David’s wallet.  After that, he places David in handcuffs and locks him in the back of his squad car. He speaks with  some of the new officers and I see him pointing in my direction a few times.  The first EMT’s start working on the more seriously wounded H1 dudes.  

>Active CDMA Signal from device: Jennifer Peters <555-123-9909> Incoming call from Nicholas Reilly <555-333-0333>

I answer her phone before it rings.

“Whisper here.” I say.

“Whisper? Where is your mom?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Oh, she’s here, but I answered it before it started ringing.  I wasn’t sure if you wanted the police to know that we are talking.” I say.

“Oh, good call.  What is the current status?”

“Well, three additional police cars have just arrived and one ambulance. Six additional officers are now here.”  I glance over at the Humanity First enemies.  Yep, the driver is definitely dead.  “One of the enemy is dead, one is regaining consciousness, two are still out and until Officer Heinricks put him in the back of his car, the other one wouldn’t stop telling me how sorry he is for attacking me. I have no idea what his malfunction is. Maybe my mom did something to him?” I say.

Mr. Reilly groans. “Great, that’s all we need right now.  Please tell me that the MCO haven’t arrived.”

“Umm, no sir. I have not detected any additional, umm, enemy forces, but Officer Heinricks did ask me about my MID card.” I say, counting the MCO as an enemy.  Not sure if they are or not, but Mr. Reilly’s tone of voice and stress gauge seems to indicate that he doesn’t like them.

Mr. Reilly sighs into his phone over my last bit of data.

>Emergency Vehicle radio transmissions detected.
>Three vehicle based radio transmitters incoming.
>ETA 27.8 seconds.

“Correction.  Three more ambulances are incoming. ETA 27 seconds.” I say.

“Okay.  The Air Force is scrambling a copter for me and I managed to convince the President’s Chief of Staff that this is a problem and a Federal issue due to the Humanity First involvement.  Hate crime and terroristic threats and all that, so the FBI are en route to take over.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Reilly.” I say with a slight quiver in my voice. I sure have caused a lot of trouble and all I did was go shopping at the mall. It is now official. I hate malls.

Mr. Reilly sighs. “It’s not your fault.” He says with a gentle tone. “If the MCO get there before the FBI or I do, do not let them trick the local police into taking you into custody.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, my ride is here.  Hang in there. I’ll let be there as soon as I can. Reilly out.” Mr. Reilly says just before he hangs up his phone.

I turn to my mom. “Mom, Mr. Reilly is on his way.” I say in a low tone to keep the police from knowing.  Not sure why I think that I need to keep that a secret, but her face relaxes just a little as she nods her head.

Barb returns with my mom’s, Amanda’s and her jacket. I didn’t have one, but she has the bag with my new clothes in her hand.  The police have the entire area cordoned off and each of the H1 dudes has an EMT and a police officer working on them.  The shotgun dude is moaning in pain and complaining about his nose, but the others are still out. The EMTs from the fourth ambulance are directed by Officer Heinricks to finally check on me.  He follows the EMT dude.

The EMT’s eyes widen with shock at the sight of my blood soaked shoulder and limp arm.  “Ma’am?  Are you hurt?” He asks.

I glance down to my shoulder. “Umm, yeah. That dude over there,” I say, pointing with my eyes to the guy currently being loaded onto a stretcher. “,shot me with a hollow-point .45 caliber at one meter.  Hurts like crazy right now.”

Officer Heinricks jumps a little at that, shakes his head and mutters with disbelief.

“Let’s get you over to the rig so I can check you out.” He says before he turns back to look at the female EMT standing near their ambulance.  “Jess!  Can you bring me the stretcher?  We have a possible gunshot wound here.”

“Umm, I think I can walk over there.” I say.

“That’s okay ma’am. I’m surprised that you’re even standing right now. I don’t want to take any chances. You must have gotten lucky and just been grazed by the bullet.” The EMT says.

I know that I wasn’t just grazed.  What was hit in there?

>Damage Report:
>Scapula and Glenohumeral Joint damaged - Repairs Underway
>Additional Soft tissue damage - Repairs Underway
>Internal bleeding - Contained
>Estimated Time to 100% combat readiness: 6.03 minutes

“Oh no sir.  My scapula and my glenohumeral something were damaged along with some other stuff.” I say as the EMT’s eyes grow even larger.  

Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.  He looks skeptical as the rolling stretcher thing arrives.  I cradle my right arm and wince a little as the two EMTs help me lay down on the bed.  My fingers twitch a little and I can feel part of my hand now.  My mom follows as they push me to the ambulance.  I glance back to Amanda and Barb has her daughter wrapped in her arms as Amanda sobs.  I smile at Amanda to try and show her that I’m fine, but I’m not sure if she gets the message because she tries to break her mom’s hug and follow me. I can’t believe that she is so worried about me.  Really, we just met.  Her concern for me starts to make me feel like crying.

My mom glances back at Amanda before looking back down at me as she walks beside the stretcher.  She smiles.  “I’m really glad that you’re back, Bree.  I was really worried about you.”

I don’t get a chance to reply.  I’m pushed into the back of the Ambulance and the two EMT’s immediately begin to cut away my blood soaked shirt.  I’m not sure how I feel about that.  It is ruined and it was actually one of my favorites.  My bra strap is cut next.

Crap, not my bra too!  Crap!  I can’t believe that I just thought that!

With my bra strap out of the way, the female EMT squirts some sterile saline water onto my shoulder to wash the blood away. “I thought you said that you were shot?” The male EMT asks, confused.

I look down and except for a red mark; my skin is completely smooth where the bullet hit me.  “Umm, I was.” I say, just a little confused myself.  I know that I can regenerate and my nanites have even been kind enough to provide me with repair times, but it is different when I can actually see myself heal.

“Are you a regenerator?” Jess, the female EMT, asks.

“I guess so?  I’m not sure. Today was my first day of testing.” I say.

Jess looks up to her partner. “Well, Dan, I guess that explains that.” She says before turning back to me. “You’re lucky, but unfortunately, you will probably need to see a doctor at some point to get the bullet removed.”

I just nod my head in agreement.  I don’t think that I should tell her that my nanites have already eaten the bullet.

Jess sighs. “Well, your top and bra are destroyed. Do you have anything else to wear?”

I look over to my mom, who is hovering anxiously by the back door.  She holds the Aerie bag up. “Yes, we have some tops in here for her.” She says.

Where is the Victoria’s bag is with my new bras?  My mom opens the bag and the pink Victoria’s bag is stuffed inside.  Awesome.

“Okay, Dan.  Why don’t you go check on the H1’s while I get her cleaned up so that she can get some fresh clothes on?”  Jess says.

Dan nods as he steps down and bag in hand, my mom steps up and into the back of the ambulance with the two of us. Dan closes the doors behind him.  Jess peels off the rest of my top by just cutting it the rest of the way down the right side and removes my bra. Placing both into a clear plastic bag with bio hazard symbols on them.

My nipples pop out and embarrassed, I cover myself with my left hand and arm. These things are so much more noticeable and sensitive than they were before my change. Thankfully, Jess doesn’t even react to my display as she quickly and efficiently cleans all the blood off my skin.  I guess that she has had a lot of experience with that.  I am able to make a fist and even move my arm a little by the time she is done.

My mom digs out one of my new bras and I wince a little as Jess carefully helps with my bra. My shoulder is still rather tender, but the pain is now down to a five.  Even with the pain, I have never felt so relieved to be wearing a bra. My new thermal top thing is way nicer than my old top. If I get blood on this and ruin it, I will be pissed.

I still have some blood on my jeans, but it’s dried and I don’t wanna mess with them now.  For some reason, what really upsets me are my new boots.  They have a few scuff marks on them.  My mom helps me climb down from the back of the ambulance and as I do, I see two black SUVs rapidly threading their way to us right now.  They must be the FBI.  I hope they are, anyway.

I spot Barb and Amanda both speaking to a police officer.  He has a notepad out and he is writing stuff down. I guess that they are giving him their statements.  The two SUVs roll to a stop 100 meters away.  Seven men and one woman wearing blue jackets with big yellow FBI letters emblazoned on them exit the vehicles.  One of the police officers points toward my ambulance after briefly using his radio.

Three of the FBI agents detach from their group and head towards me, while the rest work their way towards the Escalade.

>FBI/GS/SpecialAgent/GM-14/Johnathon/Russell/Gilbert/xxx-xx-xxxx/A+/FALSE
>FBI/GS/Agent/GS-12/Michelle/Anne/Cheney/xxx-xx-xxxx/B-/PEANUTS
>FBI/GS/Agent/GS-10/James/Micheal/Crawford/xxx-xx-xxxx/O+/FALSE

Their CAC IDs give them away. I think that the government needs to do something about those RFID cards, but it is kind of handy for me.

Special Agent Gilbert steps forward with a frown as the other two agents fall back a few steps.   “Hi, I am Special Agent Gilbert, Counter Terrorism Unit, FBI.” He quickly glances back to his two partners before returning his attention to me. “And behind me are Agents Cheney and Crawford. You must be The One that I know so little about, but I am supposed to take care of.”  He says as he looks me up and down, as if judging how much of a threat I might make.

My mom’s hand tightens protectively on my left shoulder as I feel myself blushing from embarrassment. “Umm, sorry?” I say, looking up to him with my best pathetic girl expression, but I’m not sure how good I am at that expression.  I am kinda new to this.

It must work. He shifts a little uncomfortably. “Yes, well, the update from the local PD indicated that you had been injured.”  He glances from me and up to Jess, who is standing anxiously inside her rig. “How is she?”  He asks Jess.

“Well, based on her clothing, she lost a fair amount of blood, but she appears to have some good regen, so I really can’t say.”  Jess says, shrugging her shoulders.

Special Agent Gilbert looks back to me. “Do you feel up to walking back to my vehicle so we can get started on your statement?”  He asks as the sound of helicopters entering the area become  hard to ignore.

He pauses and follows my gauze as I spot two Black Hawk helicopters fly in and rapidly enter a hover on either side of the parking lot.  The first one is 150 meters east and near to the FBI vehicles while the second is 200 meters west of my location.  Ropes are hanging down and soldiers dressed in full combat gear rappel down.  I think that it’s pretty damn cool to watch and I hope that I will get a chance to try that some day.  As soon as all the men from the second helicopter are down, the copter peels rapidly away.  The first helicopter flies slowly towards a large open spot in the parking lot and begins to descend with one of the soldiers using a flashlight to help direct the copter into a safe landing.

“Well, it looks like my team isn’t the only people who got some love tonight.” Special Agent Gilbert says with amusement as he watches the first copter’s blades begin to slow.

I zoom in and watch as Mr. Reilly, Dr. Edmundson and some guys partially dressed in hazmat suits exit the helicopter.   He turns back to me with a calculating expression. “You wouldn’t happen to know why two of the Air Force’s Combat Search and Rescue teams would be here and who those people are would you?”

I have a few ideas, but I’m pretty sure that most of them are classified.  “Umm, well, the guy in the suit, carrying the briefcase and looking a little upset with me is DARPA Deputy Director Reilly and the man behind him is Dr. Edmundson from the, umm, I’m not sure if I can say, sir.”

Agent Cheney gasps with surprise as she tries to make out all the details I just mentioned.  “How can you see all that?”

“Umm, that’s probably classified?” I say, hesitantly, wincing a little as I accidentally try to shrug both of my shoulders.  It doesn’t hurt as much as I expected.

Special Agent Gilbert snorts with disbelief. “Well, I have no idea who you know, but I do know that whoever it is, they have a shit load of pull!  I’ve never seen this kind of response before.”

“Umm, well, that would be Mr. Reilly sir.”  I say as we all start to walk back towards their vehicle.  Special Agent Gilbert walks with me and my mom while the other two trail slightly behind.

“Okay, so, how would the Deputy Director of DARPA have so much pull?” Special Agent Gilbert asks rhetorically.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that he had to call the President or something right after I called to tell him about being attacked by the H1 dudes.” I say.

Special Agent Gilbert misses a step as he looks over to me with surprise. I look up to him and out of the side of my eye, I catch Agent Cheney and Agent Crawford exchange a nervous glance with each other.   “Really?” Special Agent Gilbert asks, speculatively.

I nervously nod.  Should I have told him that? We get 40 meters from the FBI’s vehicle when Mr. Reilly and Dr. Edmundson spot us and alter their course to meet us.

I can’t read Mr. Reilly’s expression as he approaches us. He must be pretty pissed at me though.  I take a half-step back and get closer to my mom.  Mr. Reilly briefly frowns at me before returning his focus on Special Agent Gilbert and his team.  Crap, he is pissed at me.

Mr. Reilly extends his hand to Gilbert. “Hi, DARPA Deputy Director Nicholas Reilly.  Are you Special Agent Gilbert?”  He asks as he shakes hands with Gilbert.

“Yes, sir.  Pleased to meet you, but I am a little surprised about all of this.” Gilbert says, glancing around as the hazmat team approaches us.

“Yes and so am I.” Mr. Reilly says before he turns to me with a parental stern expression.

“I’m sorry Mr. Reilly; I didn’t plan on this happening.” I say, looking around to take in all the activity. The realization of all the trouble I have caused makes me cringe a little.  The scope of our little trip to the mall has really increased, a lot.

Mr. Reilly surprises me by smiling at me. “Oh, I know.  Nikki tells me the same thing, but it doesn’t help. I think that you are going to be just like her, a trouble magnet.”

Dr. Edmundson joins Mr. Reilly. “Sir, we need to get started on the de-con.”  He says, looking around at all the police officers and EMTs with concern.

De-con? What do they need to decontaminate?  Dr. Edmundson looks at me.  I am still cradling my shoulder.  “Umm, Bree, I understand that you were shot.  Where did you get shot at and did you get your blood on anything?” He asks.

Oh, crap.  “Umm, I was shot over there.” I say, pointing with my left arm toward the Escalade before turn to look back to the ambulance. “But, Jess cleaned me off in there and she bagged my top.”

Dr. Edmundson looks behind him and at the team of folks wearing hazmat suits. “Okay, guys, start with the ambulance, then over there. Make sure you get all the blood up.”

He leaves with the team and another black SUV pulls into the parking lot.  This one has the logo for the Department of Paranormal Affairs (DPA) emblazoned on the doors.

Mr. Reilly and the FBI folks watch as two guys wearing suits get out of the SUV and look around.  Mr. Reilly sighs. “Well, I guess that we should get this over with.  Bree, Special Agent Gilbert here and the DPA will probably want to take both you and your mom’s statements, but I want to make sure that we leave out any of the more classified aspects of this incident.”  

“Umm, yes sir.” I say, nodding my head as I look around at the FBI agents to see how they are taking the news.  They don’t look as surprised as I expect them to look.

The DPA agents meet us at the rear of the FBI’s SUV where my mom and I give them our official statements regarding what happened.  The DPA guy frowns a little about the fact that I don’t have an MID or MMID yet, but Mr. Reilly explains to him that I am still being tested by the Department of Defense and that I am also in the process of having my application to that Whateley place fast-tracked by the Department of Defense.  I notice that he doesn’t mention the President, at all.

We are just finishing up when my attention is drawn to a white police style sedan that just rolled through the police cordon. This one has the MCO’s official seal on the doors, but what drew my attention to it was the fact that I detected some encrypted radio communications between it and some additional vehicles. Also, based on their replies, those vehicles appear to be stationary and located half a mile away.  I point out the vehicle and mention to Mr. Reilly the additional signals I detected.

He purses his lips and does not look happy as he follows the progress of the MCO vehicle as it makes a beeline for us.

Two men get out of the car and casually stroll over to us, looking friendly with smiles plastered on their faces.  When they are 20 meters away, I detect their cell phones and I notice that they have active blue tooth connections open with multiple devices.  That’s not normal.  A blue tooth headset is one thing, but neither of them is wearing a headset.  I focus my attention closer and I notice that they each have a pen in their front breast pockets that is transmitting audio data via blue-tooth and their glasses are emitting the same bandwidth of infra-red that video cameras use for their auto-focusing lenses.

“Umm, sir.” I pull on Mr. Reilly’s sleeve to get him to lean down so I can whisper in his ear. He bends down as he cautiously keeps his eyes on the MCO agents. “They have glasses with video and the pens in the pockets are bugs that are talking to their cell phones via blue-tooth.” I say, whispering in his ear as I keep my eyes on them.

Mr. Reilly straightens back up.  “Hmmm, can you jam the video?” Mr. Reilly asks after a second of thought.

I shake my head no.  I might be able to do something with the pens by jamming their blue-tooth signal, but I don’t detect a signal coming from their glasses.

“Okay.  Why don’t you stay out of sight as much as possible? Maybe try to stay behind me.”  Mr. Reilly says.

“Hey, Agent Finlayson!  What’s the DPA and the FBI doing here?”  The leading MCO agent asks with a smile as he looks at the lead DPA agent.

Agent Finlayson gives Mr. Reilly a quick glance. “Oh, nothing much. Just following standard procedures for dealing with a possible hate crime or terrorist group attack on or involving a mutant.  What brings you here Agent Lainer?”

Agent Finlayson’s glance at Mr. Reilly draws the MCO dude’s attention to Mr. Reilly for a brief second.  “Oh, you know, the same. I heard about the attack and the fact that the mutant in question might not have an MID, so I thought I’d swing by and lend a hand.”  Agent Lainer says with a fake smile as his voice stress meter hits the low yellow range.

“Oh, that’s a shame because we are just wrapping things up here. Sorry that you wasted the trip.” Agent Finlayson says without any sincerity in his voice.  The MCO and DPA guys must not like each other very much.

The MCO dude ignores the fake sincerity and pretends that it was sincere.  “Oh, that’s okay.  That just makes my job easier.  Where is the suspected mutant so that I can either verify her MID or take her into protective custody for you all?” Agent Lainer asks, still smiling as his stress meter hits the upper yellows.

Crap. Now, I’m not feeling good at all.  He can probably see me behind Mr. Reilly. He has got to know that I am here, but this polite game of his is so annoying.  I look over to my mom and she doesn’t look very happy right now either.  I debate trying to use an illusion to change my appearance, but the police have probably already mentioned what I look like.  So, doing that would just give my illusion power away to the enemy and my mom wouldn’t be happy with me either.

My mom shakes her head no.  Can she read minds now too?  How did she know what I was thinking?  “I know.” I silently mouth back to her.

Mr. Reilly chooses that moment to break into the conversation.  “Agent Lainer?” He asks as he steps forward to shake hands with Agent Lainer.  Agent Lainer automatically responds by returning the gesture. “Hi, I’m Nicholas Reilly with the Department of Defense.  I believe that I can help answer the missing MID problem.”

Agent Lainer appears a little surprised by Mr. Reilly and I notice that Mr. Reilly didn’t really identify himself.  “Oh, you can?  That would be helpful. I never like having to take a mutant into protective custody.” His stress meter hits the red there.  I think that he’s lying.  Agent Lainer and his partner are both trying to sneak glances my way, but I manage to keep other people in front of me or closer to them to prevent their glasses’ auto-focus emitter beam from getting a direct line of sight picture of me.

Mr. Reilly smiles at his assertion as he opens his briefcase and digs out a manilla envelope with “TOP SECRET” stamped in red on the front and back of it.  The MCO guys forget about trying to get a good shot of me as they focus all of their attention on that envelope.

“Now, understand that I’m only showing you this to help you perform your duties. If any word of the contents of this envelope get out, you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent under United State’s espionage laws.” Mr. Reilly says.

Now, I really want to know what is in that envelope myself.

He pulls out a small plastic smartcard with an orange border. I can see that the card has my picture with my code-name on the front with some barcode and official looking hologram.  Mr. Reilly hands the MCO agent my card and the agent studies the front of it.

“It was issued today?” He asks, skeptically.

Mr. Reilly nods and smiles at his reaction.

“An MMID?” Agent Lainer asks as he turns the card over to look at the back of it.  He scowls with anger as he reads the back of the card.

What is he seeing that is making him so mad?

“Classified? How in the hell can everything be fucking classified?!” He asks, not even bothering to try and disguise his anger.

“It’s an MMID Agent Lainer.  If you wish, you are welcome to use your scanner to verify its authenticity.” Mr. Reilly says.

Agent Lainer hands Mr. Reilly back the card. “Here! Take this obvious bit of forgery back.  It doesn’t matter anyway.  It is still my duty to take her into protective custody in a case that involves the death of a innocent civilian.”

Special Agent Gilbert chooses that moment to make himself known. “I’m sorry Agent Lainer.  Special Agent Gilbert, Counter Terrorism Unit, FBI, but the FBI and the United States Government views that so called civilian as a possible terrorist, as such, his death and the circumstances of his death are under my jurisdiction. I cannot allow you to take my witness into MCO custody at this time.”

Agent Lainer’s face flashes with confusion first, then naked anger before resuming his mask of politeness;  “I’m sorry. I guess that I have what I need here.  Sorry to delay your investigation Special Agent Gilbert.” He says as he turns to walk back to his car.   Before he leaves, he makes one more attempt to get a good look at me.  The glare he sends my way does not make me feel warm and fuzzy about the MCO.

It isn’t until he and his partner drive away that everyone starts to relax.

Mr. Reilly turns to Agent Gilbert and Agent Finlayson and shakes each of their hands.  “Thanks. I’ll make sure to thank your bosses and express my appreciation.”

“Not a problem, sir.  I dislike the MCO and don’t trust them one bit. Anything I can do to make their lives miserable is a good thing for me.”  Special Agent Gilbert says with a pleased smile.

Mr. Reilly then turns and gives my mom and me the bad news.

“Okay, now we need to get you back to the facility for more tests. I’m afraid that it’s going to be an all-nighter tonight.”

My mom is looking a little tired and I’m feeling a little mentally exhausted myself.  I was really looking forward to just getting back to our room and taking a shower. “I’m sorry sir.” I say as I start to follow Barb and Amanda back to their car.

“Bree? Where are you going?” Mr. Reilly asks.

I turn back, feeling confused. “Umm, with Barb?”

“Oh no. I’m not letting you out of my sight.  You and your mom are riding with me in the Black Hawk.” Mr. Reilly says.

I can’t believe that I’m going to get to ride in a helicopter! “Really?” I ask, trying not to smile.

A smile escapes from Mr. Reilly.  “Yes, really.”

Sa-weet!  John is going to be so freaking jealous when he finds out.  A freaking Black Hawk!

I glance over to Barb and Amanda. Amanda looks a little anxious. “Can Amanda come with us?” I ask.

Barb answers for Mr. Reilly.  “I’m sorry Bree, she can’t. It’s a school night, it’s very late and she still has homework to do.”

Amanda does not look happy. “Moomm!  Like I’m going to be able to go to school tomorrow anyway.  I can’t do my homework now and even if I could, there is like no way that I’m going to be able to concentrate without worrying about Bree all day.”

“I’m sorry, but there is only going to be room for Mrs. Peters and Bree.” Mr. Reilly says, not sounding that sorry.

“Oh, that’s okay.  How about if I ride with Barb instead?  Barb needs to come in too, right?” My mom asks, shocking the crap out of me.  

Amanda starts to jump up and down and excitedly clap.  Barb looks a little surprised. Me, I’m very surprised.  Why would she want to give up on a chance to ride in a helicopter? And, not just any helicopter either. A freaking Black Hawk!  Mr. Reilly looks torn.  

“Plus, that way,  Barb can stop back at her house and grab Amanda’s school work so that she can work on it while waiting for Bree to finish her tests.” My mom says.  

Mr. Reilly nods reluctantly while Amanda is not happy with the homework idea, but my mom seems real anxious to find reasons for her not to ride in the helicopter and now that I am thinking about it, her voice stress meter has been in the low yellow range ever since the helicopter was brought up.  “Mom, are you afraid of helicopters?” I ask.

She nods her head yes, looking guilty as she gives Mr. Reilly a pleading look.  Mr. Reilly sighs. “Okay. I don’t know how I am going to explain this. Come on before I change my mind.”

Amanda claps and gives me a hug, and then she jumps back with alarm as she remembers my injured shoulder.  “Sorry!  Oh my gawd Bree! I’m so sorry!” Amanda says.

“It’s okay. I’m totally repaired and back up to 100% Combat Efficiency.”

Amanda looks at me and giggles. “Bree, you do and say the strangest things sometimes. If I didn’t know better, I would swear that you are really a boy.”