Whispers in the Mind Parts 9 - 13

Police Sergeant Mike Dunwoody is a small-town cop, nearing the end of his service in New Mexico.

One evening, whilst waiting for two local miscreants who use the highway as a drag strip for their pickups, he sees something odd in the desert and goes to investigate. A flash flood fills the dry gulch with swirling water, and he sees what he believes is a child being swept off to certain death. He risks his life to save the child, but as he reaches dry land, he discovers that it is not a child, at least not a human child, and as his heart suffers a potentially fatal attack, his sacrifice leaves the commander of the alien ship with something of a quandary.

Mike’s body is beyond repair, but as the individual he saved is special, the captain decides to revive Mike, but so as not to risk certain exposure, the cloned body is slightly modified so the new Mike will not be able to tell of the experience.

The modifications? Mike wakes up as Michelle.

And Michelle is an awful lot more efficient than most girls.

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The Legal Stuff: Whispers in the Mind ©2004 Tanya Allan
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.

This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.

This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.

Chapter 9

Ryan Marcham was a thief. He wasn’t an ordinary thief; he was an exceptionally clever one. He never broke in, nor did he take from the poor or needy. In fact, most of the time, his crimes went undetected for months, and when they were, no one had any idea how the offence took place.

He had several degrees in computer related subjects, and although he had the interpersonal skills of a Tsetse fly, he was a very rich man, courtesy of those computer skills.

At thirty-four, he was a short man, overweight and with a receding hairline. He had no partner, and was not inclined to acquire one yet. He got his kicks, such as they were, from cyber sex with equally frustrated persons on the internet chat rooms.

The ‘girl’ he was currently involved with was probably equally repellent, but her semi-naked photograph on her personal profile would declare otherwise. She was a stunning blonde from France, and used the profile name of ‘ma’mselle_la_belle’. The fact that Ryan’s own photograph was of a body builder taken from a Gym magazine was another story, and he used the name, ‘super_stud_001’. He was actually aware that her photograph was probably equally fictitious, but the chat was blisteringly hot and steamy.

His new home was in the more classy suburbs of Los Angeles. He had moved from Detroit, where his career had started, so when his finances allowed, he bought the $1,000,000 property. It was probably worth nearly double that now, but Ryan couldn’t care, he had almost $100,000,000 salted away.

His method was simple. He would find a huge corporation, hack into the various computer systems, and place simple yet unidentifiable programs in places no one would look. These programs would remain dormant, and then suddenly, all the fractions of cents would be rounded down in every transaction, and the residue filtered into a dummy account. Within seconds the account would be closed, and cash transferred to another account, so ending up with a cheque being issued to a phoney company.

One cheque, cashed, and the company then ceased to exist. All within a one hour period.

Each target was hit once, and never touched again. The program was so written that after execution it self erased. One U.S. Pharmaceutical Company was hit for $1,300,000. It took exactly fifteen minutes for the whole operation to complete. By the time any accountants worked out anything was missing, Ryan was long gone.

Ryan had also set up a legitimate company that provided security firewalls and other software purporting to prevent cyber-theft. The company was worth in excess of $50,000,000 in its own right. All the clients were companies whom had at one time suffered loss at Ryan’s hands. His policy of never attacking a company twice, meant that they paid him twice, and once legally.

He was not concerned with the money, as he could never spend what he had accrued in any case. His joy was in the acquisition of the cash, and it was almost sexual, it was really the rape of the companies’ assets.

He returned to his house and opened the front door. The alarm did not bleep at him, and he found it had been switched off. Frowning, he thought back to when he had left, and shook his head. He could not recall whether he had set it or not. Normally a meticulous man, this concerned him, but then he heard the music.

He had no gun, as he was actually terrified of them, but also was not inclined to call the police. He cautiously advanced towards the source of the music, and found a complete stranger in his pool, the music centre was playing one of his CDs at full volume.

The stranger was a very tall and beautiful woman, and she was stark naked.

He switched the music off, and the girl was still swimming front crawl up the pool.

She reached the far end and executed a perfect racing turn to return rapidly up towards where he now stood.

She reached the end and, in one fluid movement, lifted herself effortlessly out of the pool and walked towards him, with no attempt to cover her luscious and perfect body.

“Bonjour cherie. ‘ow are you?” she said.

His jaw dropped, it was his internet friend. Ma’mselle_la_belle. Not only that, she was even better in the flesh.

“How, how did you find me?” he stammered, as she ran a damp hand over his trembling head. Her full and very firm breasts brushing against his chest. She was many inches taller then he.

“It was easy. But your picture is not ze truth, non?” she said. Her accent made her voice sound like honey dripped in fine French wine.

She wrapped a towel around her long hair and another round her ample figure. She had the body of a goddess, and Ryan found his erection said it all.

She walked over to him, and one of her hands brushed the outside of his straining pants.

“Oh la-la, you want me very much, non?” she said, and laughed.

Ryan shook his head. This was unreal, things like this just don’t happen.

She took his chin in one hand, and he saw the delicately varnished nails, beautifully crafted into long and lovely shapes. She gently moved his face so he was looking into her eyes.

“We are going on a journey,” she said.

* * *

When he woke up, it was dark.

The girl was gone, and for the life of him, he could not remember anything that had happened.

He called out.

“Hello?”

There was only silence.

He was naked and on his bed. He shook his head, and try as he might he could remember absolutely nothing. He remembered the girl, or rather her beautiful body, but her face was a complete mystery.

He got off the bed, wrapping his robe around his portly body. He searched the house, but found no trace of her. Then he logged into his computer.

Under his list of friends there was one glaring omission, that of mamselle_la_belle. He tried searches of all his files and, to his shock, he found his hard drive had been tampered with. His computer had the most sophisticated security system he could devise, and still he noticed that many crucial files were missing.

He began to panic, so then he tried to access his bank codes.

The screen went blank, yet no matter how hard he tried, nothing happened.

Then a graphic appeared as a small white dot and got larger before his eyes.

It filled the screen; it was a beautiful female angel.

“I am the Avenging Angel. You have paid your debts,” she said. Her voice was devoid of any accent, and yet he recognised it for being very similar to something he had heard recently.

The screen cleared, and he was into his accounts.

His heart raced as he saw all his ill-gotten gains had been returned, with interest to the companies he had stolen from, together with a full confession.

He tried everything he could think of to reverse the actions, but to no avail.

The doorbell rang, and thinking it might be the girl, he stomped off and opened the door.

Two men in suits stood there.

“Mr Ryan Marcham? We are agents from the Treasury Department. We have reason to believe you have been involved in currency and tax offences.”

Ryan’s heart, not in the best of health, decided that enough was enough, and simply stopped. His last memory was of a beautiful woman, and she was smiling as he died.

* * *

“She’s in LA,” Kyle told his boss.

“When?”

“Right now. One of the guys at the airport rang in. She flew in two days ago and just disappeared. He had one of them black moments, so by the time he realised what had happened, she had gone.”

“Get the team, let’s go,” Jim said, and they left the office for the heli-pad. Jim was feeling low, as the DNA and fingerprints did not match with Sergeant Dunwoody. However, her DNA was unusual. The scientist stated that although definitely human, there were unique characteristics that he had never encountered before.

Jim focussed on the present.

“Has anything untoward happened in the last few days?” he asked.

“Not that we know of. Certainly the Police Departments have nothing unusual reported.”

“She is too clever for that. I don’t think we will get events like New York any more.”

“So what then?”

“I don’t know. Shit. This is tricky. She’s playing with us.”

“You still think she is the one?”

“Absolutely.”

They boarded the helicopter, as the rest of the team arrived with all their special kit.

* * *

Winston MacGilvary was a happy man. He had eight girls working for him now, and he had a good mile strip along Hollywood Boulevard staked as his personal turf. They were good-looking girls, and all were on the coke he thoughtfully provided. They were turning around $1000 a night, so he was also clearing a similar figure from his drugs sales.

His pink Cadillac was well known, and he even a had a couple of cops of the take. He was receiving a blow job from Candy in the back of the car, when he saw a girl walk past.

She was a tall blonde girl. A very tall blonde - with a figure to die for and her short leather skirt made it look as if her legs went all the way to heaven. Now, Winston was an expert on girls, and he knew this was a high earner. But she wasn’t one of his, and she was on his turf.

Candy finished him off, so he handed her a small packet of rocks. She grabbed them with shaking hands and got out of the car. Winston got in the drivers seat and drove after the tall girl.

He found her standing a few yards up the road, so he pulled over.

His window lowered, but she still stood back, making no effort to approach his car. This meant she was an amateur, or she knew who he was.

“Hey girl, come here,” he said.

She slowly moved towards him, and he whistled. His first guess was way out, this was the real top stuff, so she could earn him a fortune.

He took his shades off and looked into her ice-cold blue eyes.

* * *

Officers Pete Simms and Howard Russo were cruising the Boulevard in their marked cruiser. The prostitutes smiled and waved, and both officers shook their heads.

“Goddamn whores,” muttered Pete.

“Hell, it ain’t them, it’s the damn pimps and the marks.”

They turned a corner and were met with a weird sight.

“What he hell?” asked Howard.

Pete put on the siren and lights, so the crowd dispersed, rapidly.

The officers got out of the car and made their way over to the focus of the crowd’s attention.

Winston MacGilvary was dressed in a little red mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, five-inch heels, and a boob tube. He had on a black lacy bra, filled with silicone breast forms, and a long russet wig on his head. His black face was heavily made up, and he was handcuffed to a lamp post.

“Blow job - fifty cents, lover?” he said to the officers.

Howard and Pete looked at each other. MacGilvary was well known as a crack dealer and pimp. He was a dangerous man, and was suspected to have killed several times.

“Hell, Winston, are you stoned or what?” Howard asked, staying back.

“Oh officer, I have to tell you everything. I been a very naughty girl,” he said, and giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Winston, what are you doing like this?” Pete asked.

“It’s my penance officer. The angel said I have to.”

“This is shit,” said Pete to his colleague.

“I killed four men.” Winston said.

He had the officers’ undivided attention

The officers took the handcuffs off, and then read him his rights. After the Miranda, Winston confessed to all the crimes he could remember. The bemused officers could not keep up, but placed him in the rear of the patrol car.

At the station, Winston continued his catalogue of felonies, and did not appear to be worried that he was going into a slammer dressed as a tart. His screams in the middle of the night signalled that whatever he was under had just worn off.

* * *

It made the news the following day, and Jim and Kyle were just setting up their base of operations in a hanger on the local US air base.

“Sir, you should see this,” said a black clad special ops man.

They watched the news of the detention and confession of a notorious pimp and crack dealer.

The scene cut to an orange suited Winston, arms and legs in chains, walking, somewhat gingerly, between two officers into court.

“Winston MacGilvary was detained by police when they found him handcuffed to a lamppost just off Hollywood Boulevard last night. He was found wearing women’s clothes, a wig and make up. As soon as the officers made themselves known to him, he is alleged to have confessed to so many crimes that the officers could not write them down quick enough. He was interviewed by detectives, having declined legal representation, and even told the officers where the bodies were buried. Literally."

“Four addresses were searched and several thousand dollars have been seized as well as drugs and weapons. However, during the night, he claims to have been brainwashed and tried to retract his statements. But the cases against him are just too strong, and no evidence of drugs or hypnosis has been found. This is a remarkable case, and the local police chief is delighted at having so many unsolved crimes detected in a single night.”

Jim laughed.

“Shit, you have to admire her style,” he said.

“There is no evidence it’s her,” Kyle said.

“Of course there isn’t. She knows we know, and couldn’t care less. She is simply showing us what she can do.”

“I’m not sure, Sir.”

“I am, Kyle. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the next one being even more spectacular. Then she will contact us.”

Kyle was not as sure.

* * *

Winston was still sore. He could just sit down now, and he was definitely in the worst mood. No one in the prison could get near him, and he sat brooding by himself.

“MacGilvary. Visitors.”

“Fuck off.”

“These are government officers. The Air Force, they don’t take ‘fuck off’ for an answer.”

Winston frowned. What did the Air Force want with him? Unless they knew something he didn’t.

He stood up and allowed himself to be led to the special visitor room. A single room divided by a clear bullet-proof screen. Tables placed against either side of the screen and a microphone and speaker system imbedded in the screen

He sat opposite the two uniforms. His body language was hostile and aggressive.

“Tell me about the angel?” the older officer asked.

He frowned. How did he know about his dream?

“What angel?”

“The angel who visited you?”

Winton shrugged.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said, standing up and ready to leave.

“Just look at this,” the Colonel said.

The Major produced a photograph and showed it to the man.

Jim watched as the prisoner’s whole demeanour changed.

He seemed to shrivel up, he sat down again, and his expression took on childish characteristics. His lower lip quivered, and he started to cry. Then his left thumb made its way into his mouth, and he sat there gently rocking.

No matter how hard they tried, they could not persuade Winston to communicate any further. They watched as a bemused pair of guards removed the little boy who used to be Winston.

Kyle looked at the picture of Michelle he held in his hand. It had been taken by a telephoto lens in London. She was standing by her car talking to the woman who would have been her mother-in-law. They had cut it so only Michelle’s face was clear, and she was smiling. She really was beautiful.

“Okay boss, I believe,” he said.

* * *

Conrad Delaney looked over his expanse of estate and smiled. The vines were doing well this year, so his investments were soaring. He was a rich man, and enjoyed the feeling of power that his wealth had brought him.

He watched as the workers in the fields struggled in the heat, and he thought he saw some sitting in the shade of one of the cypress trees. He took out his mobile phone and called his foreman.

“Two of them dagos are havin’ a siesta under a tree. Deal with them.”

He then watched through binoculars as a pickup truck stopped by the tree, and three men with large sticks started to beat the helpless workers.

He smiled, watching with pleasure as one by one they were beaten into unconsciousness.

That’s three I don’t have to pay, he thought.

Conrad employed illegal immigrants, as he kept his costs down to a minimum. They couldn’t complain, because if they did, back they’d go to Mexico. He enjoyed watching pain being inflicted, and he thought of the latest girl. She was chained up in his room, and being only twelve, he was looking forward to dealing with her later.

Carlos, his foreman was now a citizen, but as a former illegal himself, he owed everything to Conrad. So much so, he was willing to even remove the bodies after Conrad’s worst sexual excesses.

Conrad finished the fine cognac, and walked slowly up to his room. The Spanish style Hacienda was filled with the finest furniture from Europe and even had fine works of art, such as old masters, on the walls. He unlocked his room, and he experienced the anticipatory flutter of pleasure as he was about to relieve his stresses on his latest victim.

He locked the door again behind him, and wiped his sweaty brow with a large red silk handkerchief.

He turned and looked for his quivering victim on the bed.

He frowned, as she was not there.

The chains and manacles were in place, but the girl was gone.

How?

He looked round the room, but it was empty.

Confused and worried now, he went and unlocked the door. As he pulled it open, the door was forced into his face, forcing him to fall back onto the floor.

When he woke up, he was lying naked on the bed, with his hands and feet firmly locked in the manacles. There was a figure silhouetted by the window.

“Who the hell are you? Untie me immediately, do you hear?” he blustered.

The figure moved, and he saw the most breathtaking beautiful woman. She was tall, so tall. She was dressed from head to foot in diaphanous white.

“Who are you?” he asked, he had tried to remove his trapped hands and feet, and real fear edged into his voice.

“I am the Avenging Angel. Think of all those poor souls you have cheated of life to satisfy your own sexual perversion. Think of all those daughters and sons you have robbed of their childhoods. Think of all those mothers whose children you have stolen. Now comes a reckoning.”

Conrad suddenly was overwhelmed with blackness and then came the screaming faces, one at a time until every one of his victims was in his head and screaming.

He could take no more, and his screams were heard for many miles around.

In the field, Carlos looked up and grinned.

The boss was having fun tonight. He would go and remove the body in the morning.

It was not to be, for at about ten p.m. a plain police car arrived, and two detectives knocked on the door of the Hacienda.

The door opened, and Lieutenant Santiago explained that they had received a call from a male at the address, and that they were to come to the first floor master bedroom.

The housekeeper let them in and they went straight to the room. There, chained to the bed, and covered in his own excrement and urine was the very mad Conrad Delaney. There were no marks on him, yet his mad eyed were filled with tears. On the dresser, and clearly handwritten in his own handwriting, was a complete confession to a series of horrific sexual attacks on girls and boys over a thirty year period, over twenty of these attacks resulted in the deaths of the children concerned. Other men were implicated, some rich and famous. Both officers, although experienced and worldly, felt nauseous when they read the pages in front of them.

There were eighteen follow up arrests, for offences from procuring children for sex, transporting illegal immigrants, to actually having sex with minors, murder, conspiracy to murder and accessories after the fact. One Congressman, a local mayor and three prominent businessmen were all indicted. It was a huge scandal, and it made the national news.

* * *

Jim saw the news and smiled. She had a real neat way of making the punishment fit the crime. He was almost sorry that he had to hunt her down. It would be interesting to see what she would do next.

Kyle came into his makeshift office.

“Have you seen the news, sir?”

“Yes. God! I admire this woman.”

“Yeah, some style, huh?”

They watched the pictures of men being led to waiting police cars, one of them being Carlos the foreman. Busloads of Mexican workers were being shipped back to Mexico by the Immigration services.

“Well. That’s all for today. I’ll be in early tomorrow. We need to be ready for when she contacts us.”

“You still reckon she will, sir?”

“I’d bet money on it. You see, Kyle, we’re the only game in town. Who else can she go to?”

“Some of the British Government agencies, they are always looking for good agents.”

“The British only recruit their own. She’s not British, regardless of what’s on her passport.”

“She isn’t a US Citizen either.”

“Don’t be too sure. Why does she come back here? What’s wrong with Russia, Europe, or Australia? No, she comes here because she knows here very well. I think our angel is American.”

Colonel Robertson made his way back to his room in the officers’ quarters. He called his wife, and spoke with her for half an hour. He could sense the strain in Shelly’s voice, but he now regretted his commitment to the project. He often thought he should never have got married, but he had, and he was honest enough to try to make amends.

He showered and went to bed, reading a little before turning his light out at a little after midnight.

He awoke with a start, and lay there curious to know why he had awoken. He listened and heard nothing, but then he sat up and put on the light. He looked round the small sparse room and relaxed. He went to the bathroom and relieved himself, returning to his bedroom, but almost died of shock.

For there, sitting on his bed was Michelle.

<<Hi Colonel. Forgive this intrusion, but it’s time we had a talk.>>

Her lips never moved, so he realised that he had underestimated her hugely.

“Miss Cz…”

<<Call me Michelle. It saves a lot of tongue twisting,>> she thought, and smiled.

“Okay, Michelle. You certainly know how to surprise a man.”

<<You do not have to vocalise, as I can read your mind. If you simply project what you want to say as your thought pattern, then I can pick it up. The advantage is that I’ll know when you are lying.>>

<<Okay. How’s this?>> he thought, very slowly and loudly.

<<Pretty good, but I’m neither deaf nor stupid.>>

I can’t believe that this is happening. He thought to himself.

<<Believe it, Jim. Things are going to change. As you guessed, I’ve had enough of being on the outside, so I need a place to rest my head.>>

<<What do you mean?>>

<<You need me, and I need to find some form of stable existence. Oh, I could have settled down with a nice guy like Gordon, and would have done, but I have to admit, I believe that I’m destined for better than that.>>

<<What can you give me?>>

<>

<<You’ve met them?>>

<<How the hell do you think I got the skills that I now have?>>

<<How did it happen?>>

<<One day I may tell you.>>

Jim was planning and she started to laugh.

<<Don’t you get it? I’m not coming to you for help, you need my help, not the other way around. I can exist without you. I can disappear, and you would never find me if I didn’t want to be found. You just have no idea what I’m capable of,>> she thought at him.

She gave him just a glimpse of what she could do with him. He saw into the mind of Conrad Delaney, and Winston and poor dead Ryan. He realised that he was way out of her league.

<<So, what do you want from me?>>

<>

He chuckled. <<You created the Angel.>>

She smiled. <<Yeah, it was fun for a while, and no doubt she will come out again. But I want to come home.>>

<<Home?>>

<<Yeah, home.>>

<<Where exactly is home?>>

She thought for a moment, and smiled sadly.

<<Home is where my heart is.>>

<<And where is that?>>

<<When I find out, I’ll let you know.>>

Jim laughed.

<<Okay, Michelle, what do you want?>>

Chapter 10

Jim was up at six, so Kyle was surprised to see him in the office so early.

“Sir, you’re very early. Is everything okay?”

“Close the shop, Kyle, we’re going home.”

“Sir?”

“You heard. Shut down everything, we’re going back to Base X.”

“But sir, the girl?”

“Believe me, she’s no longer a problem. Just be ready to move by 12:00,” Jim said, standing up.

“Yes sir. But, where are you going?”

“I have some business to deal with. I’ll be back at 12:00,” he said, putting his cap on, leaving Kyle staring after him.

Kyle brought the teams back, and ordered the recall. He was confused and not a little pissed with his boss for not letting him know what was going on.

By 12:00, everyone was back on the chopper, and the pilot was waiting for the colonel.

A car approached and pulled up by the hanger. Kyle was standing by the helicopter, and watched as Jim got out of the car. He then watched another person get out from the other side. The driver saluted the Colonel, and the car took off.

The two figures approached the helicopter, and Kyle noticed that the other person was a female dressed as an Air Force officer. As she got closer he saw the oak leaves on her shoulders, signifying that she was a major, like him. She was very tall and had her blonde hair up. She was wearing a skirt, and was very attractive. The pilot started the engines, so the rotor blade started to turn slowly, picking up speed with each revolution.

The girl held onto her hat with one hand, and handed her bag to Kyle, giving him a huge smile as she did so.

He almost dropped the bag, for this tall Major was Michelle.

The Colonel helped her get into the chopper, while the crew stared at those legs. They all grinned and she smiled at them in turn.

“Gentlemen, meet the latest member of the team, Major Michelle Carter,” Jim shouted as the engines picked up speed and volume.

Further discussion was not possible, as in a few moments they were airborne.

Michelle found the whole situation highly amusing. For as Mike, she had spent seven years in the Air Force as a Security Policeman. So once she had dressed in this particular uniform, with the oak leaves on her shoulders, it gave her a terrific buzz.

If the guys in the Sergeants’ club could see her now.

* * *

Kyle stared at her, disbelieving his own eyes. She smiled back, as he felt curiously at ease with having her on board. He wondered what sort of deal was done.

<<A good one Kyle. A good one,>> he heard her voice in his head.

He stared at her in shock, but she smiled at him.

<<Don’t look so worried, believe me, I’m a good guy,>> she thought, and he heard her chuckle inside his head.

He looked at the Colonel, but he was looking out of the small window.

<<Don’t worry, no one else can hear. So, what do you think, does the uniform suit me?>>

He nodded, unsure how he should respond. But the thoughts he had were unprintable.

She blushed.

<<Why Kyle, you wouldn’t want to do that, really?>>

It was his turn to blush.

<<You can read every thought?>> he thought back, nervously.

<<Yup. Even those naughty ones.>>

He looked around wildly, but no one was paying much attention. A couple of the men were staring at her legs, and she noted they were wondering what happened at their junction, but for the most part they were resting with their eyes closed.

<<How?>>

<<How what?>>

<<How come you’re here, now, like this?>>

<>

He nodded and grinned. Life was looking up, he thought, and she smiled at him.

They landed back in Nevada, and for once Jim was relieved to return to his office. Michelle collapsed into an easy chair and crossed her legs. Jim watched the team disperse, as Kyle knocked tentatively on the door.

“Come in Kyle. Take a seat.”

Kyle entered and smiled at the seated Michelle. He sat in one of the four easy chairs, so Jim sat in another.

“Okay, what we need to know now is where to go from here?” said Jim.

“Sir, can I play catch-up? Just how the hell did you get her into the Air Force so damn quick, or is this not what it seems?” Kyle asked.

“Kyle, Michelle contacted me last evening, and so yesterday I contacted the General. It seems we are flavour of the month again, and tomorrow a group of visitors will be attending the base for a discussion and a display of Michelle’s, ah, qualities.”

“What visitors?”

“I had to explain that I had been approached by someone who had been in contact with our visitors, and that she was in a position to give us valuable insight into various aspects of their strategy and intentions. I also said that she needed to be kept in the loop, and that a commission in the Air Force in her new identity was the ideal solution.”

Kyle frowned.

“And he went for it, just over the phone?”

“Not just over the phone.” said Michelle. “I had to give him a little tweak, just to clear away any reservations he may have had.”

“Shit, you can do that?” Kyle asked.

“Yes, but rather like a hypnotist, the subject has to be amenable and willing to go that way.”

“So, the General approved, you get your new identity, the Air Force gets another officer. As the boss said, where do we go from here?”

Michelle looked at these two men. Kyle was a doctor first, and an Air Force officer second. He was intelligent and determined to understand the alien physiology. It was a burning ambition, for as soon as he became aware of them, he wanted to understand them and know more.

Jim, on the other hand, wanted to understand what they wanted, and whether humans entered into their scheme of things, in what capacity. He had seen things that few other people had and, although subject of mental interference, he had a high level of resistance to their attempts to cleanse his memories of anything concerning them.

“One, you have to understand that they are not here as a militaristic or acquisitive mission. They are a very ancient race, and nearing the end of their time. They are long-lived and few in number. Their home system sun went supernova a long time ago, so they have been destined to roam the stars seeking a host planet to continue their existence.

“Earth is one of a few planets capable of sustaining them. They have numerous colonies already on this planet. All their colonies are independent and have little connection with the others. They select the more remote and less populated areas for their sites, and keep their involvement with the local area to a minimum.

“What you have to understand is that they are a dying race. Their birth rate has dropped to an alarming figure, which means that deaths occur more frequently than births. Although they might live a lot longer than us, they will only have one or two offspring in their long lives. Life is priceless, so they are respectful of life in all its forms, even nasty human lives.”

Jim watched the tall girl as she spoke. She was articulate, and spoke with no hint of her Ukrainian accent. In fact, her English was faultless, and had no accent he could discern. It was real British English, without the nasal upper-class whine.

“Just who the hell are you, Michelle?” he asked.

She smiled.

“I’m me. In fact, I can be whoever I want to be, but in time I may tell you,” she said.

Jim nodded.

“Ever been to New Mexico?” he asked.

“You mean like Roswell?” she asked, teasing him.

“No, never mind. It can wait.”

Michelle smiled, while Kyle watched the exchange with interest. He knew she was not anything to do with sergeant Dunwoody, as he had taken the DNA samples himself. What was the Colonel after?

<<He still thinks I’m that policeman,>> she thought to Kyle.

<<Are you?>>

<<What do you think?>>

<<No, there is no way you could ever have been a male.>>

<>

Jim watched the other two, as his own mind was clicking over. He was only too well aware that this girl was an enormous risk, but she was also the most important potential breakthrough he could have wished for.

<<I’m also not an enemy.>>

He smiled. That was the third problem, as there was no hiding from her.

<>

“It would be helpful to see exactly what you are capable of,” he said.

“Okay. Physically or mentally?”

“Both.”

“Well, you know I can read minds, so that’s not a problem. I can manipulate minds to a degree, in that I can just gently suggest a particular course of thought or action, or I can eradicate memories completely. Thus I’m able to literally walk past someone, and they will never remember seeing me.”

“What about the Russian incident?” Kyle asked.

She smiled.

“Ah, that’s the other thing. You really never want to piss me off. I was able to persuade one person to shoot another, several times. Useful really, but not something I enjoyed, and neither am I particularly proud of it. But the police were hopeless, so I had to do something. After all, the bastards killed my fiancé and damn near succeeded in killing me.”

“There was one man who had no marks on him, yet his brain was severely traumatised.”

“Oh, that was the boss, Big Ivan. I was quite impressed with that. It was really quite amazing. I simply pointed my finger, like this,” she said, pointing her right index finger at Kyle, who immediately pushed it so it pointed away.

“Just point that somewhere else, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry, Kyle, nothing personal, and this one isn’t loaded. And then I simply said, ‘bang.’, and he sort of died,” she concluded, and both men stared at her still pointing finger.

“Bang?” asked Jim.

“Bang,” she said, and grinned. “But I did focus as much mental force behind it as I could. But it seemed to do the trick.”

“Okay. We get the picture. What about physically?” Jim asked.

“Eyesight, enhanced by a factor of ten. Hearing, similar, and selective to different frequencies and levels. Smell, they kindly left alone, but strength and endurance. Put it this way, if I went in for the Olympics, I’d come away with a heck of a lot of Gold medals.”

“In what area?” asked Kyle.

“Every area, sweetheart. Is there a gym here?” she said.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, having changed into a leotard and jogging bottoms, Michelle entered the base gym. It was well equipped, and had everything one would expect in a modern gym.

Kyle and Jim appeared, still in uniform.

She smiled.

“Not joining me?” she asked, and they grinned.

There were a few servicemen working out on the apparatus.

“Okay, where would you like me to start?”

Jim looked around.

“Your choice.”

She went to the running machine.

She started it off and gradually worked it up until it was at maximum elevation, and she was running at a fast sprint. The two officers watched as she completed the first mile, up hill and in a time of 3.23 minutes. But she kept going, and clocked the second mile in 6.45 minutes.

The other men walked over and stared in awe at the female athlete. She finished three miles in 7.3 minutes.

“No way, man,” said a burly sergeant, who could not believe his eyes.

“That just ain’t possible,” another remarked.

Michelle was hardly breathing heavily, and she certainly looked as fresh as she had been at the start.

She smiled at the men, and walked over to the bench press. She set the weight at the maximum, so one of the weight lifters went to tell her that it was way too heavy for her, but Jim held his hand out.

“She knows what she’s doing.”

She bench pressed 300 pounds, and hardly looked as if it was an effort.

“Are there any heavier free weights?” she asked, so the body builders nodded numbly.

She was shown a bar with the maximum of 500 lbs on each side.

She simply lifted it above her head as if she were lifting up the trunk of a car.

“That’s 1000 pounds!” said the sergeant, utterly incredulous.

She put the weights down gently. There was total silence in the room.

Jim recovered first.

“Sergeant, tell me what you just saw?” he said to the amazed sergeant.

“Sir, even if I told anyone, who the hell would believe me? I saw absolutely nothing, sir.”

Jim smiled.

“That’is right.” he said, and then watched as each man took on a glazed expression and then shook their heads as if to clear something.

Michelle smiled.

“Too much for me. Maybe I’ll try something smaller,” she said, and the men wandered off.

“You erased their memories?” Kyle asked.

“Not really, they simply will remember me not lifting 1000 lbs, and not running in an unusual time.”

“You can do that?”

“Kyle, you’d be amazed at what I can do. Believe me, you do need to have me on your side,” she said.

They walked slowly back to Jim’s office, and Michelle picked up disquieting thoughts from both men, particularly Jim.

“Colonel, if we need to convince the powers that be, then let me find a colony. I will not endanger anyone, on either side of this, but at least we can enter dialogue. In nearly every movie, TV show and book, the USA always meets aliens with suspicion and weapons. This time, we could try something different.” she said.

Jim smiled.

“If it were up to me, things would be easy, but as soon as politicians get involved, then we are in deep shit.”

“Sir, just how have you described Michelle?”

“At her suggestion, she is an innocent member of the public who had a close encounter, and has come away with an in depth understanding of the aliens. It is as if she has been selected by the aliens to act as an emissary to open negotiations on their behalf, and to start to build bridges for generations that will follow to cross, or not.”

“They bought it?”

“Probably not, but I’m hoping they will be convinced,” Jim said as they entered his office once more.

“Not by my showing off, that’s for sure. No, we need much more that silly tricks,” Michelle said.

“Like?” asked Jim.

“Just give me a moment, I may be able to work something out,” she said, sitting in the chair with her eyes closed.

They sat in silence for minutes. The wall clock ticked steadily, but Kyle was aware of nothing save the girl seated just in front of him.

He took the opportunity to study her in greater detail than he had been able to previously.

She wore little make up, just some mascara and the faintish eye shadow. Her full lips were red, but he couldn’t tell whether it was natural or artificially coloured. Her complexion was the most perfect he had ever seen and, as a doctor, he had seen a great many. Everything about her seemed as if it was perfectly formed. Her eyes, the shape of her face, her teeth, and even her figure; although a tall woman, she was completely proportionate, and so utterly feminine.

Regardless of her femininity, there was little evidence of an unlimited hidden strength and power, and he smiled as he recalled her words, ‘You really never want to piss me off.’

The minutes dragged by and Jim began to fidget. He too had been examining the girl. His mind was not on her beauty or inner strength, but on her potential and the dangers she both posed and could be facing.

<> she thought, and he looked into her newly opened eyes.

<<I’m sorry, I was just thinking.>>

<>

<<You mean the aliens?>>

<<Not necessarily. I mean my friends.>>

He smiled. <<Am I a friend?>>

<> she thought, and those blue eyes of hers seemed to bore deep within his soul.

They stared at each other, and Jim made a decision.

He nodded.

<<Yes Michelle. I’m a friend.>>

She smiled at him, but it was as if a dark curtain had been drawn back. He opened his mind to her, which she declined to enter, merely touching him with her warmth.

<<Friends trust each other. I will not intrude again, unless you give me reason to.>>

He nodded and glanced at Kyle. Kyle was lost in admiration of the girl’s beauty, so he was miles away.

Michelle smiled, as his mind was an open book, one that perhaps should have been censored.

“Kyle, Honey. Hello?” Michelle said, and Kyle started and smiled with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I wasn’t with it,” he said.

Michelle gave him a knowing look and he blushed again. She didn’t need to increase his embarrassment.

Jim frowned. Michelle was capable of communicating independently with two people at once, so he was very pleased to have chosen to be her friend.

“Okay, I’ve contacted one of them. I need a good guide who knows the desert in New Mexico.”

“New Mexico. Why there?”

“There’s a new colony being planted there as we speak. Apparently, they landed there several months ago, and there was an incident. I was unable to ascertain the nature of the incident, but they moved over one hundred kilometres further away from danger, having already set up an underground colony,” she said, turning to Jim. “But then you already know about that, don’t you?”

Jim and Kyle exchanged glances.

“The incident involved a police officer. We believe he saved one of the aliens, and there was evidence that they tried to save him. His body showed signs of some form of medical intervention. Our suspicion at the time was that they somehow constructed a clone of him, in gratitude and repayment for services rendered,” Jim explained.

“You thought I was that clone?” she said. “Now that explained your confusion in London and the need to obtain my DNA. Did you get enough off my hairbrush?”

The men looked embarrassed, again.

“I think we need to be honest with each other,” Jim said, and explained everything that had happened and his rationale for pursuing her.

She sat and nodded, a small smile playing across her lips. Kyle smiled as he watched her. She already knew all this, what was her game?

<<To survive, what’s yours?>> she thought, without taking her eyes off Jim.

<> he thought back, making her smile all the more.

<<Truth? Now there’s a thing. I think truth is like smoke, as it changes shape in the wind,>> she thought, as Jim brought his account to an end.

“Okay, now my turn. I was an abductee and, as you surmised, I am a partial construct, though entirely human, my DNA is of a peculiar nature. As you know I’m an enhanced constructee, so should the public at large get to know, they would either love me or hate and fear me. I have three overriding imbedded mental commands, somewhat like a robot, I suppose, but then those who ‘made’ me have to protect their survival.

“These have not been programmed into me, as part of any grand master-plan, but rather they are aspects of my existing character that have been enhanced in line with the rest of me to the point of becoming compunctions that are almost impossible to disobey. One, I can do nothing to harm them. Two, I will not allow anything to happen to put humans at risk of danger, unless they threaten other humans or the aliens. The third is a little obscure, and accounts for my rather weird behaviour relating to crime and criminals.

“I must fight corruption and injustice whenever I have an opportunity to do so. Hence the Avenging Angel, I guess.”

The two men stared at her.

“Why the last one?”

“If you were to have one aspect of your character enhanced, assuming the first two are already in place, what would it be?” Michelle asked Jim.

“Mine would be to save lives and to heal the sick,” said Kyle, almost without hesitation.

<> she thought, and Kyle had to smile, as she looked hard at Jim all the time.

Jim almost smiled, as he thought about it.

<<Are you reading my mind?>> he asked her.

<<No, I said that I wouldn’t and I don’t lie.>>

“It would have to be to fight for openness and honesty in Government, across the world.”

Michelle looked at him, and her smile broadened.

“Here speaks the man in charge of a secret team, running out of Base X investigating the secrets of secret alien visitors, and the whole caboose would be denied by the politicians in Washington in a thrice,” she said, and even Jim smiled.

“You never answered my question,” Jim said.

“No, you are right. I didn’t. But then it was just part of who I am, or was, rather.”

Jim looked at her.

“Will you ever tell me where you originate from?”

“Probably. I have nothing to hide. But I do have others to protect, so it is not for my benefit that I keep this back,” she said.

Jim nodded, but Kyle was frowning as he went over all that she had said.

“Michelle, you said you were a partial construct. What does that mean?”

“A construct is someone who is constructed from scratch. For me, they simply improved what was already in existence.”

He was frowning. His knowledge of clone techniques was scant. Most of what he did know came from science fiction rather than medical journals.

“How much of you is actually original?” he asked.

“That, my dear, is this girl’s little secret,” she said, standing up. “Look guys, this is very interesting, but I’ve an appointment to keep, and I’m starving. Perhaps while I’m eating, you could locate a reliable guide for the area in question?”

Jim took down a map of the desert, and Michelle noticed red crosses at the location where Mike’s body had been discovered.

She jabbed her finger onto the map about seven miles away from there.

“Here, more or less,” she said.

Jim nodded.

“Okay, by tomorrow morning I’ll have someone assigned to you. Do you need a back up team?”

“No. Ideally, I should like to go on my own, but I’m not prepared to get lost, as I have no idea what will happen. Should I not return, then it would help you to know where I went so you could attempt to help me.”

Michelle returned to her quarters, had a shower and changed back into her uniform. She then joined the men in the Officers’ Mess, and there was a sudden hush as the tall blonde made her entrance.

Rumours had been rife about the mysterious female Major who had returned form California with the team, and much speculation had taken place as to her reasons for being here. It was generally accepted that she was a probable suspect for the ‘Avenging Angel’, but even that was doubtful.

There were about sixteen officers in the Mess, and all stared in admiration at the stunning new arrival. Jim observed the relaxed and unruffled manner in which the girl took to new circumstances. Whether she was nervous at running the gauntlet of so many male eyes he was completely ignorant, she appeared not.

“Gentlemen. I’m sure that a lot of mention has already been made of our new team member. So it seems down to me to put rumours to bed, and give you some facts.

“Major Michelle Carter has been assigned to us by Washington as she has valuable experience in areas in which we are lacking. In particular, she had actually had contact with our quarry, and has herself limited ESP. It is felt that her skills may assist us to locate and finally get to the truth of all the whispers that have occurred over the last few decades.

“The Major is an experienced field officer, having been assigned to various intelligence agencies and organisations over the past few years. She has no history with the Air Force, but her rank is confirmed,” he said.

The officers understood immediately. The implication was simple: Michelle was a Special Operative assigned to the team after having worked extensively for either the NSA or the CIA. Her rank was due to her special skills, and not for her record within the Air Force.

Michelle smiled at them all, and accepted a beer in a calm and relaxed manner.

She worked hard below the surface, easing doubts and suspicions out of various officers’ minds. By the end of the meal, they looked on her as a friend, and she had won them over by force of personality rather than mental persuasion.

She went to bed, anxious to get an early start, but worried about returning to New Mexico so soon.

Chapter 11

Sergeant Martin Skye was a fifteen-year Marine. His record was impressive. Both Gulf Wars, Grenada, Columbia and several other areas of conflict that had never really been advertised. His speciality was desert warfare, so he was attached to the Marine Training unit for just that purpose.

Part Navajo Native American, Martin never let his ancestry be forgotten, as he only felt at home outside, and the further he was from civilisation, the more at home he felt.

It was therefore with a mixture of relief and curiosity that he took the urgent posting to meet an Air Force Officer in New Mexico at such short notice. He loathed the training camp, even though he did get to spend as much time as he could out in the desert. The problem was he always had to take the trainees with him, and they had no idea as to how to live alongside nature. They were mainly city folk, and were at their most arrogant and stupid when it came to understanding the great outdoors.

He was a very big man, six foot six, and in his early days in the Marines, he had played football for the Corps. He kept his dark hair very short, with a slight suggestion of a Mohican down the middle. His eyes were so dark brown as to be almost black, and together with his tanned complexion he earned his nickname of ‘Red’.

A helicopter collected him at 05:00 and took him to another airbase to meet his companion. All he had been told was to be ready to accompany a Special Ops officer on a highly classified mission. He had put his desert camouflaged combat gear and felt the twinge of curiosity. He didn’t even know on which continent he was destined.

They told him to remain with the Huey, and so he stood and watched as the ground crew refuelled it. It wasn’t to be that far away, he thought to himself.

He watched as a light plane landed. It taxied over to a stand a few hundred yards away. A tall man alighted, dressed in similar attire as he was, and slung a small pack on his back. He was wearing a floppy camouflaged hat, so Red was unable to see his face from this distance.

As soon as the stranger started to walk towards him, Red realised that it wasn’t a man. The woman was very tall, but there was nothing mannish about the way she moved, so Red felt the stirrings of very basic feelings deep within him.

She was one of those rare women who could wear the most unfashionable clothes, and still look as if she should have been on a catwalk. There was something else about this woman that attracted Red. Most women he met were either after a mate, (even just for one evening) or to prove a point. This girl was after neither, yet she exuded sheer freedom, power and exuberance with every movement.

Red swallowed, licking his lips.

He had successfully remained single for all his thirty-three years, making the Corps his life. Women were frequent passengers along his ride of life, but they never stayed. He preferred it that way, as it left his life uncomplicated and free.

As the girl approached, he tried to put an age on her, but had to give up. Her size made it almost impossible, while her flawless beauty transcended all he had ever met in his life.

To meet someone else who was a similar free spirit was simply awesome.

His eyes flicked to the oak leaves on her shoulders, so he came to attention and saluted. He saw the humour in her eyes as she returned it, very smartly, he noticed, and then he relaxed.

“Sergeant Skye,” she said. Her voice was as he had imagined, and despite himself, he grinned at her.

“Ma’am.”

This time her smile broke into a grin, and she held out her hand.

“I’m Michelle, and if you never salute me again when we are alone, it will be too soon,” she said.

Red shook her hand, discovering her grip firm but somehow retaining the essence of her obvious femininity. She had nothing to prove, and he found he retained her hand for some time.

She smiled.

“Are you done?” she said, and Red released her hand abruptly.

She slung her pack into the Huey.

“What have you been told?” she asked.

“Nothing, Ma’am.”

She looked at him and put her hands on her hips. Then she nodded, crossed her arms, placing her hands on her shoulders, covering her oak leaves.

“What have you been told?” she repeated.

“Nothing, ma’…Michelle.”

He was rewarded with one of those smiles that melted icebergs.

“Okay, let’s grab a coffee, and I will brief you. I don’t intend to call you Sergeant, so what do I call you?”

“My given name is Martin, Ma… Michelle. But my close friends call me Red.”

“Am I a close friend?”

“I got no problem with that. It’s up to you,” he found himself saying, and instantly regretted it, feeling he had gone too far.

“Okay, Red. Come on,” she said, turning and heading towards the hangar.

She just walked into the works bay and helped herself to a coffee, pouring one for Red. No one paid either of them any attention, it was almost as if they were invisible. She went to a table, swept the rubbish onto the end and placed a map of the New Mexico region onto the table.

“Are you familiar with this area?” she asked, pointing to a specific part.

He looked carefully at the map.

“Yes and no. I have been there a couple of times, but I guess it depends on how familiar you want me to be. I can read most deserts like a book.”

“Okay. What do you know about Operation Trillium?”

“Nothing at all. I’ve never heard of it.”

“Good, then that’s hopeful. Operation Trillium is the Classified US operation to locate, identify, and open peaceful communications with alien colonies which are established in remote parts of Earth.”

He stared at her, but saw she was perfectly serious.

“Okay,” he said.

She smiled.

“You don’t believe in them, do you?”

“No, Ma’am, I don’t.”

“Well, you see, I do. I’ve been on one of their ships,” she said, as she rolled up the map.

He was revising his opinion of her when he got the fright of his life.

<>

He was watching her, she was not even looking at him, and her lips were around the coffee cup.

She turned her ice-blue eyes towards him. His mind was less complex that the colonel’s, but his concepts of right and wrong, good and bad were far more clearly defined. He was at heart a much more basic man, the product of his heritage and upbringing in a hostile America. He had risen above the bigoted tormentors of his youth, partly by being bigger, and partly by being better. He was a good man, with high principals and a real sense of honour.

The Corps was an ideal place for him, and she understood why it had been his home for so long. He was able to gratify his sense of needing to belong, and to be proud of something. He was fiercely loyal to those he was close to, to the point of personal sacrifice on several occasions under fire. She felt suddenly sorry that she had shocked him, but she was determined to prove how important this job was.

<<What’s the matter, never had your mind read before? By the way, I’m flattered that you find me sexually attractive, but I hope that doesn’t get in the way of our professional relationship.>>

Red had been afraid a few times in his life, but this time he was terrified.

Michelle saw his fear.

“Now, do you believe?” she asked, much to his relief, aloud.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, unable to meet those clear blue eyes.

She smiled at him, but when she spoke, her voice was soft and full of understanding.

“Red, believe me, I’m not the enemy here. In fact, I don’t even know if there is one, or if there is, or what it looks like. But perhaps if you just hear what I have to say, you will understand a little of what I have gone through.”

He managed an uncertain smile.

They were interrupted by the pilot.

“Major, we’re all fuelled up.”

“Okay. Come on. I’ll explain on the way,” she said.

During the hour flight, she told him her story. She didn’t mention anything before the abduction, and left out her previous identity, but she was graphic in her description of the aliens, their craft and their intentions.

She transmitted the whole story telepathically, so Red became used to hearing her inside his head. When she stopped, he almost cried out, as he felt suddenly alone again, even though she sat opposite him.

<<Can you hear or understand all my thoughts?>> he tentatively asked her.

She smiled and nodded.

<<This is weird.>>

She nodded again. <<It’s okay once you get used to it. Imagine how I felt, suddenly the world was full of thoughts - all shouting. I had to learn how to shut them out,>> she thought to him.

<<You, um, you read my thoughts when I first saw you?>>

<>

<<Does everyone react the same way to you?>>

<<No, most men, a few women, and to different degrees.>>

He reddened, so she reached out and gently touched him on the arm.

<<But I rarely feel anything back.>>

He frowned.

His mind was racing, on the one hand trying NOT to think what sprung unbidden into his mind, and on the other hand, trying to think clearly of something he wanted her to hear.

Then her words sunk home.

She smiled again, but turned and looked out of the window. Her silence was worse than the voice in his head.

<<You felt something?>> his thought was not deliberate, more a reaction, but it was there nonetheless.

Those wonderful eyes turned back and looked at him.

<<Aren’t I allowed to be a woman?>>

He felt he was intruding, and that he was out of order. She was a sophisticated lady, an officer, with obvious intelligence and culture. He had no right to hope. He was a grunt. He was a Marine.

<<I’ll do you a deal.>>

Her thought startled him.

<<What?>>

<>

He thought about it and nodded. She held out her hand and they shook.

<<What if?>> he thought, and wondered if she could hear.

<<What?>>

<<What if I call you first, like this?>>

<<Then I’ll be here,>> she thought to him, and he looked down as she squeezed his hand, which, yet again, he had not released.

Some strange chemistry was at work, both recognised it, yet were somehow powerless to identify it, nor guess where it would take them. Michelle felt strangely content, for she trusted this man more than anyone else she had met, even Gordon.

The chopper landed, so they removed their packs from the aircraft. Both had satellite cell phones, so would be able to communicate wherever they might find themselves. The pick-up time and location were for her to arrange, and that had been left very open.

They quickly checked through the equipment, and as both had a small tent, Michelle left hers in the chopper, as they did not need two. Red took his MP5 out, but she stopped him.

“No. Your side arm will be sufficient,” she said, and he noticed she was unarmed.

“Sorry Michelle, these orders came from a Colonel.”

She simply looked at him.

He calmly un-slung it, and placed it into the loadmaster’s hands.

“Thanks.”

“You’re the boss.”

They ran quickly away as the chopper took off, and avoided the mini-dust storm the powerful rotors created in the down-draught.

They looked at the map.

“Okay, we’re here,” said Red, pointing at a point on the map. Michelle simply closed her eyes for a second, and then pointed to a position about two inches away, just by what appeared to be close contours on the map.

“That’s about fifteen miles. Why not get the chopper in closer?”

“I have my reasons. Ready?”

“Sure, just make sure you can keep up. It will take us four hours.”

“Two and a half,” she corrected.

He looked at her.

“I could do it in two and a half, but….”

Her look stopped him in mid sentence.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, smiling, took a quick compass bearing, and set off at a very brisk pace.

She walked alongside him, matching his pace in timing and distance. He found it refreshing to have a woman who was his equal, so much so that he took a deal of strength from her, he didn’t feel responsible, and for some reason he just knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

His major gripe with his recruits was that he had to wet-nurse them all the time, and couldn’t enjoy the desert, as he had to look out for them every step of the way.

But as they walked, he pointed out things to her. Vegetation, animals and reptiles, birds and insects, all having an interdependence on each other in some way.

“We used to belong here, but no longer,” he said, somewhat wistfully.

“We’ve lost the skills and taken ourselves out of the loop,” she said. It wasn’t a question, she really understood. He grinned, upping the pace a notch.

She calmly matched him, and he was pleased to note she wasn’t even breathing heavily. She had, like him, removed her jacket and was only wearing a white tee shirt underneath. Her breasts were firm and full, and restrained in her sports bra. He was constantly aware of her sexuality, so guiltily kept finding himself drifting off into fantasy.

Her arms swung with an easy relaxed movement. They were tanned to a honey-gold, and her whole physique was outstanding. Never before had he imagined a woman so utterly perfect.

<<Michelle?>> he tentatively thought.

<<Yup?>>

He grinned, as she was so natural with it. Here he was conversing telepathically with the most stunning woman in the world, and she was treating it all like a walk in the park.

<<What?>>

<<Have you got a man, I mean, after Gordon?>>

<<No. There hasn’t really been time. Why, are you offering?>>

He was suddenly embarrassed. His question had been little more than a wishful thought, and in all probability he should never have vocalised it.

<<You don’t need to answer. Look, I have needs, but I’m also sensitive to other’s feelings, so what do you say we just do the job, and take whatever comes?>>

He grinned and glanced at her. She was watching him, so they both smiled on reaching an understanding, of sorts.

* * *

They managed the trek in two hours and fifteen minutes. Only five times he had to guide her round sand so soft that it was like quicksand, and once he stopped her walking onto a rattler.

“Okay, so you’ve earned your pay. Thanks,” she said.

He was amazed, as they never stopped, and no water was consumed, although he drank a few mouthfuls when they finally halted at the foot of a very steep set of cliffs. It was only eleven a.m..

She stood in the heat, staring at the cliffs. He sat on a rock in the shade, observing her. She showed no signs of fatigue. There was no sweat visible on her tee shirt, yet his was very evident despite the heat being very dry. She took a sip from her canteen.

“Are you human?” he asked, perfectly serious.

She turned and looked at him, with that smile just teasing her lips.

“What do you think?”

“No peeking?”

She shook her head.

“Well, I guess you aren’t an alien. I figure I would know if you were. But I guess in a way you aren’t exactly human either, not like the rest of them. I guess you are kinda super-human.”

“Them?”

He grinned, and his white teeth showed up in stark contrast to his dark complexion.

“Hell lady, I’m a Marine, so I know I’m super-human too,” he said, and she laughed.

It was the first time he had heard her laugh, and his soul stopped and made him take notice. She managed to compress the emotions of joy and humour with that of love and tenderness, and produce a sound that exuded pure happiness. Red fell in love with her at that moment. With tears in his eyes, he stood and looked at her in astonishment.

They stood for a long moment, both aware of something strange that was happening.

She moved first, so the spell was broken. He shook his head as if that would help. He suddenly felt he should go away from this place, so he looked questioningly at her.

“Red, we aren’t alone,” she said, with an edge of caution in her voice. She wasn’t afraid, so she wasn’t meaning him to be, it was a simple statement of fact.

He looked about, but could see nothing.

She smiled.

“You won’t see them unless they want you to.”

“Why don’t you….”

“I don’t want them to know I can use telepathy. Not with you anyway.”

“Do they know you?”

“They know of me, I haven’t met any of these. The ship I was on was a survey vessel, a scout, if you like. These are colonists from the mother ship.”

“Where the hell are they?”

“Watching us. One, the leader is very confused, and is attempting to communicate with the others, but they’re out of range.”

“Oh, so they have limitations then?”

“Sure, in this case it’s a couple of million miles.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“So, what’s happening?”

“They’ve tried to persuade us to go away, and because that hasn’t worked they has deducted that I am ‘the one’.”

“The one?”

“The one planted to become the emissary.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“And what happens when they find out you ain’t?”

She turned and gave him a look.

“You are!” he said, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was going to lose her.

“No, you won’t,” she said.

“Hey, you peeked,” he said.

“Just a wee one,” she said with a smile.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

“Nothing, just leave your sidearm in the holster. I can protect you, just trust me.”

He did.

“I got a feeling I should leave, but it sorta went away. How come they can’t ‘persuade’ me to leave?”

“Because I have extended my protection over you, so stick close.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, so he took a step closer to her. Their eyes were only inches apart.

“That you don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, and grinned.

“Give me a little room to move,” she asked, so he reluctantly moved back.

“So where are they?”

“Beneath us,” she said.

“Huh?”

“They live underground, deep underground.”

“I thought you said they were watching?”

“They are, but not with their eyes. At the moment, they’re panicking, because they’ve never come across humans they can’t manipulate. Our minds are closed, so there’s much consternation.”

“How many are there?”

“Three, maybe four thousand.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. And this is only one of at least fifty colonies.

“Fifty? Each with a few thousand?”

“Some are well established, and have upwards of fifty thousand.”

Red was silent.

“I thought I knew the desert.”

“Yeah, well ain’t that a thing?” she said, and he grinned at her.

“How come I’m not scared?” he asked, frowning.

“I’m suppressing that for you.”

“Is that good?”

“Do you want to be scared?”

“I don’t know; I reckon it keeps me on my toes, maybe a little.”

Suddenly he felt terror, so he looked at her, appealing to her better nature, so then the terror was gone, just as quick.

“Okay, no fear is fine,” he said, and she smiled at him.

“Don’t you feel fear?” he asked.

She tilted her head slightly to one side, frowning slightly.

“I used to, but then I realised what I was capable of. Believe me, you do not want to piss me off,” she said. She had deliberately been vague about her Russian episode.

Red believed her, content to leave her in control.

* * *

Deep below them, the leader of the colony was in conference with his subordinates.

The colony was a new one, so the excavations had only just been completed. They had only received their full compliment of colonists a couple of weeks before, so everything was in relative chaos as they struggle to get settled. For a surface dweller, their conditions would appear confined and very restricted. However, these beings had never been outside a space ship for three or four generations.

The space allotted to each individual was luxurious by their standards. Earth was considered a challenge and a blessing.

The gravity, atmosphere and general conditions were within acceptable parameters. However, the indigenous superior life form, humans, had been a thorn in their side ever since the planet was first discovered all those years ago. Initially thought to be too primitive to be of any real threat, humans soon proved themselves to be excessively rapid developers. Considering the very short space of time since their emergence from the trees, this curious and aggressive biped showed remarkable promise for one so young.

Early attempts to nurture specially selected individuals resulted in mass hysteria, and many were put to death by their own kind for simply being different. Even those who had never been in contact with the ‘newcomers’ were destroyed on mere suspicion of being involved in what they called ‘witchery’.

Rules were set in place to keep the humans as ignorant as possible, but this status quo was threatened by three factors.

The first was the rapid population growth, leaving scant room for the colonies. Colonies were being discovered every week, and enormous efforts had to be made to restrict the spread of knowledge, and to contain the problems. The second was the amazing advances in technological and scientific fields. It would not be long before the humans had the ability to locate and eradicate the colonies, as if they were termite nests.

The last was their incredible aggressive and warlike nature. Their initial reaction to any problem was to attempt to destroy it first, and then solve it, if there was any problem left.

Those few occasions when the weapons were brought to bear on the colonists, proved that mental power was fine, but once a trigger is pulled, a hole is a hole, and death is final.

* * *

Every member of the Earth colonies was aware of the story of the supposed emissary. They’d been told that a human sacrificed itself for the life of a young alien, and suffered some form of seizure just after bringing the youngster to safety.

In an unprecedented act, the Captain of the survey scout ship had authorised his medical technicians to try to save the life of this human, and when they failed, they created a clone.

In order to somehow manipulate events for the bringing together of the two races in peace, this clone was allowed to develop mental powers greater than its fellow humans. However, it was also told that this human developed such powers to be stronger even than those who had created it.

Some believed this to be a story told to juveniles at sleep time, but many refused to believe it was true.

The elders of the colony discovered that truth has a way of smacking one in the face when one least expects it.

<<We must communicate with it,>> one said.

<<No, we must hide. It is not aware we are here,>> said another.

<<We should concentrate our combined power and destroy it,>> suggested a third.

The leader, an old being called Phollz, heard the discussion, and finally ended it.

<<It knows we are here. We plotted its course, and it did not deviate at all. It is showing no aggression or fear. I will attempt to communicate.>>

There was silence.

Phollz sent a message to the strange human, whom none of them could read.

<<Why do you come?>>

Chapter 12

“Red. Contact!” Michelle said, closing her eyes.

It was strange hearing them again. To start with, they had been all she had known, but then she had returned home, and become used to human minds.

<> she thought, slowly and in a mental whisper.

A mixture of horror, disbelief and relief met her mind like a tidal wave, so she realised that she had broadcast to the whole colony. She concentrated and directed her mental beam only to the one who had initiated the exchange.

<>

<<How?>>

<<If I knew that, I wouldn’t be standing here,>> she said.

<<Your people will never accept us, there is no hope for co-existence.>>

<<That is because my people fear the unknown. Fear breeds ignorance, and vice versa. We are ignorant of you, and therefore we fear you. If your presence were to become known, then the fear would be overwhelming. And fear breeds violence. My people believe that attack is the most effective form of defence. This would be destructive to both our peoples.>>

<<Then what is the answer?>>

<<First, an openness. You should plan a strategy to approach the world leaders. To approach just one nation would breed jealousy, and that would spark violence.

<<Then, you lay yourselves open to examination. You must share your tragic history, your culture and your requirements for continued existence, even survival. Nothing should be hidden, even your powers. Unknown powers are feared much more than known ones. But, you perhaps needn’t expose absolutely everything.

<<You must appeal to the positive elements of human nature. Compassion, tolerance, kindness, understanding and love. Be honest, and show that humans have nothing to fear. Hide and they will hunt you down and destroy you. Provide them with evidence that you can bring some good to the partnership, and they will accept you.

<<Humans cannot resist a sob story. They also will always repay kindnesses. Find some elements of human suffering to which you can bring real relief, and they will repay you generously. But it must be universal. My government wants you and your technology for themselves. This would be very dangerous, and so whatever you do, it must be to the benefit of everyone, and not to one nation, or one small area of the globe.

<<Hide yourselves away, eventually your defences will be useless, and your species will become extinct.>>

Michelle relaxed, and waited for the response.

It was a long time coming.

* * *

Phollz was grateful that the human was able to communicate directly, keeping the rest of the colony in ignorance of the discussion. Her words made logical and rational sense, but the people were just not yet at a stage to step into the open. Fear worked both ways.

<<It certainly does,>> Michelle observed.

Phollz was now very worried, for the human had just penetrated the strongest mind shield in the colony.

<<As I said to the Captain, you need not fear me. I have as much to lose as you.>>

<<How do we progress this?>>

You must come to an agreement amongst all your earth colonies, and let me know when it is reached. I will arrange a meeting with the representatives of the global community, and then we hope and pray.>>

<<What is this - pray?>>

<<Some of us believe in a divine omnipotent being who created the universe, life and everything, and that being has a vested interest in seeing us behave ourselves, and it has sufficient regard of us to look after us. The means of communicating to this being is called praying.>>

Michelle felt faintly silly trying to explain basic theology to an alien, but she was surprised at the reply.

<<We also believe in a creator. It is generally believed that when we die, our spirits join together to form a cosmic being existing solely to worship the creator. For those who fall short of his requirement, their lonely spirits range the universe, destined never to find rest.>>

<<Well, there’s a thing,>> Michelle said, quite astounded.

<<May I meet you?>>

<<Of course,>> Michelle answered, surprised.

<>

Michelle smiled.

<>

The communication ceased, and she sensed great movement.

* * *

“Okay, Red. They’re coming up. Just keep that gun strapped down tight. Understand, Marine?”

Red grinned.

“Aye aye, Ma’am,” he said.

* * *

They sat and waited, as the sun started to dip towards the western horizon.

Red looked at Michelle and raised an eyebrow.

“They’ve a long way to come, and they aren’t exactly overwhelmed with the possibility of a whole change to their way of life. Besides, they don’t trust us,” she paused, looking round.

“If it comes to that, I don’t trust us either.”

<<Stop. Come no further. I sense a problem,>> she broadcast to the colony.

“Red, take the binoculars to that ridge and tell me what you see.”

Red jogged up to the ridge.

“Dust, looks like vehicles.”

“Bastards. How many?”

“Difficult to tell. Ten, maybe more.”

“They’re tracking us. Come back, quick.”

Red jogged back down, so they checked through their entire kit. Nothing.

“The cell phones,” she said. Hers was fine, but his had a small homing device inside the casing. She remembered the pilot handing it to him, with the words, “Just don’t lose this Sergeant, it could mean your life.”

She extracted the small electronic device and turned it over.

“Which animal is the fastest in this desert?”

“Long or short distance?”

“Long.”

“Either the coyote or fox. The fox is more clever and will keep going over a wider area.”

“Okay, shut up for a minute,” she said, and went and sat on a rock, closing her eyes.

Red sat and watched her, and then he shook his head, as this girl had just turned everything upside down for him.

He heard a fain noise to the left. He looked up and saw a fox trotting down the steep escarpment.

He looked at Michelle, as her face was showing signs of concentration and strain.

The fox continued, saw him and stopped. He daren’t even breathe.

The fox sniffed the air, but gradually and cautiously approached, and then to his utter amazement sat at her feet like a dog.

She opened her eyes and held the device out. The fox took it in its mouth, very carefully, and trotted off again.

Red was about to speak, but she put up her hand and stopped him.

Then she relaxed.

“Okay, what?” she said.

He shook his head.

“Nothing. I thought I was the Indian here?”

She smiled.

“The good little fox is going to run until it reaches the railroad fifteen miles east of here. Then it will follow the tracks until it finds a train at a stop and put the device in the train. That should give our friends something to play with.”

Red took out the map. He reasoned that if they were plotted, they made good time to this point, had a short thirty-minute rest, and then followed the contours to the railway line, and then continued east. It was logical.

“Now what?”

“We see if they take the bait.”

The sounds of an approaching rotor blade changed their minds, but before they could move, Michelle simply entered the minds of the crew, and turned them east to follow the fox. She disabled the cameras just before they came into sight, and both men in the helicopter would swear they saw two people running east along the escarpment.

“Why the double cross?”

“Belt and braces. Use me to locate the quarry, and then seize the evidence. The Military want our alien friends and their technology all for themselves.”

Red felt the tug. He was a Marine, but he could see the potential for disaster, and he looked into those blue eyes. No mental coercion was required, so Michelle realised that she had an ally.

The convoy turned east, and Michelle contacted the aliens again.

<<Danger passed. I stress the importance of contact to be made to global community as opposed to national interests,>> she said.

Minutes passed, and Michelle sensed Red stiffen. She glanced towards the cliff, where, from a shadow, three figures appeared.

They looked very familiar, yet she was aware that they were not the ones she knew.

“Holy shit!”

“Shh.”

Michelle stood and approached the small group.

She went onto her knees, holding both palms up in a gesture of friendship and greeting.

The aliens were impressed. The tall female was so much bigger than they, but by reducing her height and using a recognised greeting, they immediately felt better.

They mirrored her movements, and soon Red thought he was watching a silent movie with no subtitles.

The sun dipped further and the shadows grew longer and longer. The sky turned red and the light failed, but still the four figures were there, in eerie silence.

Finally, they repeated the hand gestures again, and one reached out and shook Michelle’s hand. It also gave her something. The three figures then melted into the wall of the cliff.

“Okay, home James.”

“We’re done?”

“Yup. How far civilisation?”

“You mean a base, or any civilisation?”

“Base means military. Military means trouble. Civilisation means freedom, so freedom means we can move and do what I’ve been sent to do.”

“Are you asking me to desert?”

She looked at him.

“Wait,” she said, and shut her eyes in concentration. She found who she was after.

<<Colonel, what the fuck are you doing?>>

<<Where are you?>>

<<Being double-crossed. You’ve just spooked them, they won’t come out now.>>

<<I’m sorry, it’s too late, as it’s out of my hands now. Come in, we’re no longer handling this. The NSA has taken over.”>>

<<Too late? I will take what they gave me to someone who will appreciate it. Tell the NSA that the balance of power has just shifted.>>

<<Don’t be foolish. You still have a part to play.>>

<<Jim, you’ve pissed me off now. You know what happens when I get pissed.>>

Michelle transferred her concentration to the convoy that was still chasing a fox. The front vehicle’s engine blew up, and it slewed violently to the left. The next vehicle’s engine seized as all the oil mysteriously vanished.

The next three suffered terminal electrical failure, and the others’ tyres blew up. The eleven vehicles just sat on the sand in the dark. No one was hurt, and she allowed sufficient air-time on the sat-phone for them to report in and then she destroyed that.

<<Satisfied Colonel?>> she asked.

<<You don’t know what you’ve done.>>

<<The aliens are willing to negotiate a coexistence agreement. But it will be only with a global representative body. No one nation will have precedence over any other.>>

<<You know that won’t wash with the NSA.>>

<<You don’t understand, do you? You’re the weak ones here. You have no bargaining power, and what they propose to give to the world will relieve suffering for millions worldwide.>>

<<I’m currently with two NSA men, and they don’t give a shit about the suffering millions. I am instructed to tell you, we want their technology, or they get creamed.>>

Both NSA agents suddenly suffered serious bladder dysfunction, and complete short-term memory loss, neither could remember anything from one moment to the next.

<<Jim, don’t you get it, you have no beads to bargain with. They are everywhere, not just in the USA, so it’s you that will have to come on board, or be left out completely. Get me the president, and I’ll talk to him alone,>> Michelle tried to coerce him, but he was fighting her. His national pride was deeply ingrained.

<>

<<Jim, you said you wanted honest government. How do you think the Average American would react when he or she discovered that the NSA is going to make the USA lose out? Everyone else in the world will get free access to medical technology that has the potential to alleviate 90% of the existing suffering!>>

Jim was silent.

<<Jim?>>

<<Bottom line, Michelle?>>

<<Yeah>>

<<I’m a colonel in the US Air Force. I just do what I am told.>>

Jim then fell asleep, and so deeply that nothing could awaken him.

<<Kyle.>>

<<Here, Michelle.>>

<<Okay boy, I’m getting pissed now, which side are you on?>>

<<You have to ask?>>

She smiled.

<<Just contact the President. Tell him that I’ll be dropping in on him.>>

<<How?>>

<<That’s my problem, just do it.>>

“Well, Sergeant, how do you fancy a long jog?” she asked Red.

“How long?”

“Washington D.C..”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

* * *

He pulled out the map.

“D.C. ain’t quite on it.” she joked, and he grunted.

“There’s a town, if we keep up a good pace we could reach there by dawn.”

“What town?” Michelle asked, a cold feeling in her stomach.

“Stillswood. Why?”

She smiled.

“No reason,” she lied.

“Okay, if we eat some concentrates, our packs will weigh less, and we should be okay.”

They ate on the march, and then she broke into a gentle jog. He matched her, so they kept it up for an hour. Red began to feel his muscles, and glanced at Michelle. She was running with clockwork precision, looking very relaxed.

After two hours, Red was breathing hard, but still she kept going. He forced himself to keep her pace, yet it was proving too hard. She glanced at him, slowing to a brisk walk. Gratefully, he matched the walk.

“Do you want a piggy back ride?” she asked.

He grinned.

“Very funny,” he said, drinking some water.

They walked for an hour, but then she broke into a jog again.

Red was one of the fittest men in his company. Yet she was way fitter than he. After five hours, she was still going.

She smiled and encouraged him, yet he knew that total exhaustion was not far away.

He felt light headed and his legs turned to rubber. He passed out, but didn’t even feel himself fall.

* * *

He came to lying under a tree beside a road. She passed him a canteen, so he drank.

“Thanks. Where are we?”

“Stillswood is a quarter mile down there,” she said, pointing into the very familiar valley.

“But we were fifteen miles from the road when I passed out,” he said.

“Yeah, look, you need to diet, I almost got a hernia carrying you,” she said, holding out her hand. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, he took her hand and was pulled to his feet.

Her strength was incredible.

“Us super-heroes come in all sizes,” she joked.

He looked back into the desert, seeing one set of footprints stretching back a long way. She had tried to keep to rocks to confuse any aerial search.

“You really carried me?” he asked, feeling ashamed.

“No, sort of kept you going. The last bit was the worst,” she said.

He looked at the map, and calculated that they’d have broken several world endurance records. He looked up at her, but she simply smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. I promise I won’t tell any of the guys. We need to get into town and grab some breakfast, I’m starving!” she said.

They walked into town, Red was only too aware that he was armed, so he was unsure how the locals would take to two dusty service personnel.

Michelle felt weird, walking down the streets that had been home not that long ago. The pain of what had been left behind was very acute. She almost found it unbearable. She wondered if Carol and the kids were still here, or whether she had moved closer to her parents.

There was Marv’s Diner, unchanged, and with a Sheriff’s dept. cruiser parked outside. She looked at her watch, nine a.m., probably Steve having breakfast. She smiled because Steve wasn’t allowed to eat high cholesterol food by his long-suffering wife, so he came here and ate all the wrong things.

* * *

Steve McGuire was in his usual seat in the diner sorting through some bills. One of the Deputies ran out of road in a car last week and totalled the damn car. It was insured, but there were tow charges and stuff that needed sorting.

Hannah poured him another mug of strong black coffee, and he smiled as he folded the papers up and put them into his pocket.

“Say, it looks like the military are in town,” observed Hannah, as she glanced out of the window.

Steve watched as the two figures in desert fatigues entered the diner, taking off their hats. She was surprised, for he had judged them both to be male, due to their very tall statures, but one was a blonde woman, and she had Major’s insignia on her shoulders.

The other, a sergeant, was carrying a sidearm in a holster.

The major saw him and approached his booth.

“Sheriff McGuire?”

Steve nodded.

“Hi, I’m Major Carter, US Air Force, and this is Sergeant Skye. I understand that you were in contact with my colleagues Colonel Robertson and Major Bennett a few months ago?”

Steve felt that sinking feeling, but nodded, waving them into the spare seats at his table.

They sat, and Hannah arrived and gave them a menu and some coffee.

“Sheriff, we have been investigating various reports of incidents in the desert, and were wondered if you had received any reports of similar occurrences recently?”

Steve shook his head.

“Did anything come of the face mask, the one that I found near Mike’s body?”

“The construction is not familiar, and the substance used is not known to man. Tell me, did anyone come asking after Sergeant Dunwoody?”

“No, just some press, but they left after we gave them the story.”

“Is his family still here?”

“Sure, Carol, his widow, has all her friends here, why?

“Just tying up loose ends,” the Major said with a disarming smile.

Hannah returned with a plate piled high of instant heart attack, placing it in front of Steve.

The two newcomers ordered equally large breakfasts, and were given some more coffee.

“I have to make a call. Excuse me,” she said, taking out her cell phone and walking outside.

Holding the phone up to her ear, she pretended to call.

<<Kyle?>>

<<Here.>>

<<Where are you?>>

<<In a chopper. Twenty minutes away.>>

<<What’s happening?>>

<<The NSA are playing pool in the officers’ club, and Jim is still asleep.>>

<<What about the President?>>

<<You have an appointment tomorrow in the White House.>>

<<How easy was it?>>

<<You know, you did something.>>

She smiled.

<>

<>

<<So do I.>>

<<Where are you?>>

<<Having breakfast with the Sheriff in Marv’s Diner. There’s a parking lot behind, land there and join us for a coffee.>>

<<Won’t be long.>>

She went back into the diner, to see Hannah delivering the food. She and Red sat in silence, savouring every mouthful.

Steve watched as the pair each devoured a huge plate of food in a very short space of time.

“I shouldn’t really, but it is so good,” she said on cleaning her plate.

“So, Major. What exactly is your job?”

“I search out aliens,” she said, calmly taking a drink of orange juice.

He laughed.

“Found many recently?” he asked, joking.

“A few thousand,” said Red, watching Michelle’s expression.

Steve stared at the Sergeant.

“Just living in the desert, I suppose?”

“I wish,” said Michelle with a smile. “My Boss is paranoid, so I get sent all over the place after the most spurious sightings. Well, my ride will be here soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you.”

She stood up and held out her hand, so Steve stood up and shook it.

“Well, if I can help, let me know.”

“You already have. Thanks,” she said, as the sound of a helicopter gathered strength as it approached. They watched as it landed in the parking lot, and then Kyle and the pilot ran in through the back door.

“Good to see you, Kyle,” she said.

“Michelle. Are you two okay?”

“Fine. Do you want a coffee before we head back?”

They did, and so Steve watched as this very strange group drank coffee and chatted about trivialities. The sergeant was very quiet, and rarely took his eyes off the woman. Steve recognised the type. This man would die for the girl, but she may never know what he felt like. Occasionally, she would glance his way, giving him the briefest smile. It was very little, but enough. There was a bond between these two, and it broke through all barriers of rank, class and gender.

The other Major, Kyle, was obviously in love with her as well, while the pilot was completely bemused by the whole event.

Michelle was looking out of the window, when she saw a familiar Ford Pickup. It had been Mikes, and Carol was driving. It stopped outside the store, so she watched Carol get out and go into the store.

The pain in her soul was tangible, yet she knew that she had to let go of the past. She silently cursed the aliens for so altering her life to allow her to suffer so much pain. She thought of Gordon, and that was equally painful.

She stood up again.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said, and Red observed the tears in her eyes. He decided against saying anything.

She was silent all the way back,

On landing, she declared that she was going for a shower. Red hovered, unsure what was required of him.

“Red, you’re coming with me, okay?” she said.

He grinned.

“Yes Ma’am. What terrain?”

“The worst. Urban. We are going to Washington, and I want a fighting machine, not a toy soldier.”

* * *

The next morning they met again. She was in her pristine uniform, while he was in black combat fatigues, fully armed and looking the part. He had a small kit bag with a change of clothes, as requested by Michelle.

“Go get Jim,” Michelle told Kyle.

“He’s asleep.”

“He will wake up enough. Oh, and bring the NSA guys too.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked at him.

“Okay.”

Chapter 13

Their plane landed at an Air Base in Maryland. Jim had woken up during the flight, and was experiencing a conflict of emotions. He was angry, both at Michelle for being stronger than he, and at the NSA, who were pig headed enough to ignore his advice. He had expressly told them what would happen if they followed this course of action, and it was happening as he had predicted.

The agents were watching cartoons on the video system, and were completely oblivious as to who they were or where they were.

Two blacked out MPVs were waiting for them, and the transfer was swift. They were heading into the Capitol for the appointment with Mr Bush.

George W. Bush was in the Oval office. He frowned as his aide reminded him of the various appointments.

“This Air Force officer, Major Carter. Just what does he want?”

“That’s she want, Mr President. Major Carter is a woman.”

“Oh, how come she’s on my list?”

“You put here there, don’t you remember?”

“I did?”

“Yes sir. You were in here, and you came out and told me to make the appointment. Yesterday at around ten a.m., don’t you recall?”

The President frowned. He had no recollection of the event, and was about to tell his aide to cancel it when he remembered that it was vitally important and related to a classified operation.

“John, get me all you can on Operation Trillium.”

“Operation Trillium? Mr President.”

“Yes, and have the Major and her party shown right in when they arrive.”

John Reynolds stared at his boss, shaking his head, as Mr Bush disappeared back into the Oval Office. He then contacted the National Security Adviser, the Directors of the FBI, the CIA and the NSA. No one had heard of Operation Trillium.

The cars swept through the gates and up to a side entrance. The NSA agents just came along, staring with blank stupidity at everything. Jim was relaxed now, and was happy to let Michelle take this as far as she could. He knew that essentially she was right, this was bigger than the USA, but his national pride still caused him the occasional twinge.

The presence of the armed Marine gave the secret service real concerns, which melted as the party approached. They were escorted into the Oval office, where Red was instructed to remain outside and to remain vigilant.

George W. Bush stared at the very attractive woman standing in front of his desk. It was rare that a woman’s appearance caused him to feel such a strong attraction, and he thought it was perhaps for the best that it was he and not Bill Clinton who had to deal with her.

“Oh, I don’t know. Very few men are completely incorruptible,” she said, and he was staggered.

“Major?” he asked, confused.

“Mr President, I don’t intend to piss about. Operation Trillium. What do you know about it?”

He was embarrassed now.

She smiled. “I thought so. They’ve not yet seen fit to bring you into the picture. I wonder if they were ever going to?”

“Major?”

“Operation Trillium took over after Operation Gopher located evidence of extra-terrestrials. It’s the name given to an operation to locate and open useful dialogue with these extra-terrestrial beings who have initiated colonies in the more inhospitable parts of this planet. Then, to acquire whatever technology from these aliens, by fair means or foul, for the express purpose of bringing the defence capabilities of the USA to a level far beyond any other nation, state or confederation of states,” she said.

George W. sat down.

“What the heck?” he said and looked at the Colonel.

“Sir, I’m Colonel Robertson. I was heading up the operation until these two NSA representatives interceded. The Major was in communication with a small group of E.T.s in the New Mexico desert, when a military operation was launched by the NSA to attempt to capture the E.T.s concerned.

“The operation failed, and the colony is still safe, but the Major has some important, no, vital issues to discuss with you, and you alone,” Jim said, looking at Michelle.

<<Shit, Jim, you don’t half wait until the last minute to show your true colours.>>

<<Michelle, maybe I’m able to see beyond the national boundaries for the first time. Or maybe I just want you to win through.>>

The tall girl smiled, turning her attention to the goldfish-like President.

“Issues?”

“Mr President. The aliens are widespread, and on most continents. Although Western Europe is too heavily populated by humans at present. These people, and they are people, even if they do not look like us, are happy to live where we don’t. They have no designs on our planet, and are content with existing facilities, and do not require more.”

“How can we know that?”

“Their race is dying. Oh, it will take a long time, but their birth rate exceeds by their death rate by three to one, so it’s set to decline further in time. They have everything they need, so want solely to co-exist in peace. They need nothing from us and are willing to pay us rent.”

“Rent?”

“Rent. They will pay for their colonies, and the payment will be in medical technology and other peaceful science related technology. They will not be involved in the supply of anything which can be adapted or utilised as a weapon or an instrument of control.”

“Just like that?”

“No. They request to be left alone, and to be allowed just to exist without interference. But this has to be a UN sponsored deal, will ALL nation states included.”

The President frowned. He was a politician, so his first reaction was naturally parochial - how to keep this in-house, so to speak. However, he realised that this might prove difficult, but not impossible.

Michelle was ahead of him.

“Mr President, please believe me when I tell you that the last part in non-negotiable. It’s either the whole world, or none. They have the resources to up-sticks and leave, and believe me, they will make a mess doing that,” she said.

“Is that a threat, Major?”

“No, Mr President, it’s a promise.”

The pair of them stared at each other, while the President was unaware that she was gently removing the overpowering feelings of nationalism that were preventing him from seeing the bigger picture.

“Sir, this country is strong. We can gain more by brokering this deal, than we can lose by attempting to railroad it. There are elements of the world that see the United States as the Great Satan. If we can be seen as an instrument for peace and co-operation, then our enemies would be placed in a difficult position and find themselves without backing or refuge,” she said.

George turned and looked out of the window.

“Mr President. The man whom historians credit with such an act will be destined for greatness,” Jim added.

George was without his customary advisers, so had no way of telling whether what these people were saying was true.

<<What will convince you?>> came a voice inside his head.

He spun round, and Michelle realised that for the first time an Alien was communicating with the President directly.

She looked at the device in her hand. It was a small grey cube, and seemed to serve no purpose. She smiled, realising that their technology was far beyond her understanding.

<<My name is Phollz. I represent a group that have a colony on your land. The one called Michelle speaks the truth. She is our emissary.>>

George Bush stared from one to the other, frightened and totally confused.

“Who of you is doing this?” he asked.

Michelle opened his mind, and suddenly the truth was revealed. The man paled and trembled, as he realised that humans really were not alone.

Phollz spent several minutes in private conversation with the President. Michelle could have eves-dropped, but didn’t, as she knew exactly how the conversation would go.

Finally, she sensed that Phollz had gone, as the President looked tired and drawn, sprawled in his chair.

The NSA agents seemed to be recovering some of their wits, as they began to look confused as Michelle released them from her control.

The President looked at Michelle, and then at Jim.

“Okay, so what do we do?” he asked.

“You’re the President. But I suggest that you call some heads of state, and arrange a summit,” Jim said.

He nodded, but seemed out of his depth.

“Sir, it would be advisable to form a close committee to deal with this issue. One that reports directly to you,” Michelle said.

He nodded again.

“But who?” he asked.

* * *

Two hours and twenty minutes later, the Trillium Committee was formed. Professor Richard Standen from Yale University; Rachel Cumming, a lawyer working for minorities rights; Stewart FitzPatrick, an ex-military surgeon-General, now attached to an agency with special responsibility for overseas aid; three members of the foreign affairs select committee, one NSA representative, and four generals were all assembled in a committee room at the White House.

Major Michelle Carter, Colonel Robertson and Major Bennett were also members with a special executive role.

The President called them to order and to the newcomers utter incredulity, explained the circumstances and their brief.

Professor Richard Standen burst out laughing, as his eyes shone with vindication. He had been trying for years to get someone to listen to his theories of alien colonisation, and that this was a global issue. He had written several papers on the measures that he considered necessary to bring alongside other nations in order to engineer the peaceful co-existence of both peoples.

The President told them that they were responsible for making it happen without bringing any danger or threat to the USA or those colonies already established.

“Mark my words. There are military members of this committee, whose presence is necessary to establish that there is no military threat to this country at any time, and that we can use our military might to preserve peace,” the President concluded.

General Fitzpatrick was appointed chairman, but was left in no uncertain terms that the tall and very attractive Major was their main avenue for communication with the ‘others’ as they became known.

“My role in this affair is somewhat restricted until such time as global agreement is achieved. I anticipate this is, at least, several months away, so will be available at any time for advice and to assist in any way I can. I must stress that there will be no dialogue with the ‘others’ until we achieve the universal agreement I have mentioned,” she said.

* * *

Sergeant Red Skye was bored. He had heard nothing for nearly three hours, while Presidential Aids and the secret service were pestering him over access to the President.

<<Michelle?>>

<<Hi Red. What’s up?>>

<<I’m getting hassled.>>

<<Okay, two minutes.>>

True to her word, the committee room opened two minutes later and the President emerged with Michelle and Kyle. The doors closed behind them and the President approached his chief of staff, who, not surprisingly was very agitated.

“Okay. A situation exists, and this is Major Michelle Carter, and Major Kyle Bennett, they are to be taken onto my staff immediately. They are to be given the highest security clearance, and all facilities are to be made available to them without question. The members of the Committee are to be granted similar privileges, except the security clearances to be only made available to those military members,” George W. Bush told her.

“But Mr President, the vetting and security…”

“Just do it,” he said.

“Yes sir.”

They returned to the Oval office, bringing the Marine Sergeant with them.

The President stared at Red for a moment.

“Sir, he’s my backup,” Michelle said.

“So, what now?”

Michelle explained that six areas in the USA would be declared National security areas, and no residential or commercial building permits would be issued, and military activity would be reduced. The ‘others’ could prevent small-scale incursions, but any large-scale incursions would be dealt with by the military in conjunction with the ‘others’.

“I can’t believe that this is happening,” George said.

“Sir, it is, and you are doing the right thing,” she said, as for the first time he almost smiled.

“Major, I hope to God you’re right.”

Issued with new ID cards, and a special Presidential Warrant, Michelle and Red left the White House. Kyle returned to the committee room, as Jim’s aide, and the business of working out how to break the news to the world governments began.

“What the hell happens now?” Red asked as they breathed the fresh air.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. There is so much that could go wrong, it’s all so uncertain.”

“Will they try to keep things for themselves?”

“Probably, but it won’t wash. I know that the President would like to keep it all to himself, as would the military, but they realise that there are more ‘others’ outside the US than inside.”

“Why us?”

“What?”

“Why did they come to us? Why not the Russians or Australians?”

Michelle smiled.

“That’s my fault.”

“Yours?”

“Yup. I chose here, because I knew it.”

Red frowned.

“Just where the hell are you from?”

Michelle smiled.

“One day, I might just tell you, but for the moment, just be satisfied when I tell you I’m as American as you.”

Red looked at the city and felt a shiver of uncertainty run down his spine.

“I don’t like it here. It’s too civilised for me,” he said, and Michelle laughed.

He liked that sound, so he turned towards her.

She was standing looking out across the city, and her profile was remarkable. She was so beautiful; she took his breath away, as she was almost flawless.

<> she thought and he dropped his gaze.

<<Are you peeking again?>>

<<Nah, would I?>>

He smiled.

<>

<> she thought, looking him right in the eye.

<<You did peek?>>

She smiled.

“Sergeant, can I buy you a drink?” she said.

“Sure, but isn’t that fraternising disapproved of?”

“Heck, I’m not a real major in any case,” she said, and waved for their driver. “I’m overdue a holiday, so why don’t you ditch the hardware, put on some jeans and meet me out front in ten minutes?” she said to Red.

“You sure?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded.

“Oh, and Red?”

“Yeah?”

“Invest in some rubber.”

“Huh?”

She shook her head, and Red saw her blush.

“Buy some condoms, you stupid native,” she said, and then she saw his teeth flash in an enormous grin.

Red went to the Marine office inside the White House and stowed his weapons. His status was not questioned as he was now attached to the tall Major as a personal Aide. He put on his jeans and a tee shirt, putting his combat gear into his kitbag.

“Sergeant, have you no standard uniform?” asked the sergeant major.

“No sir. Just these duds.”

“Hmph.”

Red smiled and left whistling.

* * *

He got to the car, but there was no sign of Michelle.

“Any idea where the Major got to?” he asked the driver.

“No sir, she just told me to wait here and she’d be back in a while.”

“Looking for me?” he heard her say, so he turned round.

She had lost the uniform and was wearing a pair of jeans and an open necked, check shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. She had a pair of cowboy boots on her feet, so all she needed was a hat and she’d be at home at the rodeo.

She looked stunning. Her hair was down and shimmered in the sunlight, with her makeup emphasising those wonderful eyes.

“I don’t have to peek to know what’s on your mind,” she said to Red, who blushed under his tan.

“You look good. Even if you ain’t a real Major.”

“I’m real, Red, believe me, I’m as real as you can get.”

“Where to Ma’am?” the driver asked.

“Do you know a really nice hotel?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Then take us there,” she said, and slung her holdall in the trunk of the car next to Red’s kitbag.

The Metropole was an old established Hotel that oozed old world charm and new world wealth.

The clerk watched the couple walk across the lobby towards his desk. His eyes didn’t stray from the girl much, only to register that she was accompanied by a tall and very hefty looking man.

He had seen many beautiful women in his job, and most had been dressed in the most expensive clothes, with jewellery that could have bought his house outright three times over.

But this woman was something else.

She moved with an animal grace that exuded female power and strength. Her eyes seemed to draw one in, and her smile melted hearts with a flash.

Wearing the simplest clothing, she outshone the painted trollops who strutted on very high heels and competed for male attention like pigeons.

“Hi,” she said, with a smile.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure. We’d like a nice room with a big hot tub for a few days.”

“Certainly. Will that be twin or double?” he asked, then smiled and muttered ‘double’.

She said nothing, handing her credit card over.

“Thanks, Miss Carter,” he said, swiping the card. It cleared, so he returned it, handing her a registration card.

He rang the bell, and a bellhop appeared and looked in near disgust at the two tatty bags the couple carried. Nevertheless, he took them up to their room, and was rewarded by a $50 note from the attractive blonde. The man was silent, but the bellhop would not like to have upset him. He seemed to offer violence just by being there.

Michelle laughed.

“Do you do it on purpose?” she asked.

“What?”

“Give off those vibes?”

“What vibes?”

“The ‘I’m mean and moody, and get out of my face.’ vibes.”

He smiled and it changed his whole appearance. However, it altered to a frown as Michelle started undressing in front of him.

She laughed.

“I’m dying for a bath. If you get brave enough, come join me. Otherwise you can open me a cold beer,” she said, walking past him stark naked to the bathroom.

He stood there, amazed at her lack of self-consciousness. He went to the mini-bar, opened two beers and then grinned, stripping off.

He carried the beers to the bathroom, to find her lying in luxurious splendour in a mass of bubbles.

She watched him, casting a critical eye over his muscular physique. Gordon had been trim, but Red was a veritable powerhouse. He had some scars and looked as if he knew how to handle himself.

He handed her a beer, so she slid over as he got in the opposing end of the large oval tub. She grinned and switched on the spa switch, so jets of bubbles released from the jets set in the base of the tub.

He laughed as a jet tickled his dick, so he moved slightly, stretching out his legs.

It felt so good. He was still fatigued from their desert march, so this was wonderful. She took a swig of her beer.

“Still feel that you don’t want to fraternise?” she asked.

He shook his head, frightened that she would disappear or something.

She smiled, disappearing under the water.

She came up and sat washing her long hair. He watched her breasts, as they gently jiggled as she rubbed her scalp with her hands. His loins ached with desire for her. Never had he wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. His erection threatened to explode, as it was so strong.

He sat, partially mesmerised by her, and partially out of embarrassment at being so obviously aroused.

She rinsed off her hair, and lay out fully stretched, enjoying the hot jets on her tired body.

“Michelle?”

“Hmm?”

“Just where the hell are we going with this?”

She looked at him.

“What you got planned?”

“Nothing.”

“Frightened?”

“A little.”

“Why?”

“For the first time in my life, I’m not the one in control.”

She smiled, and moved to be along side him.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He looked into her eyes.

“With my life,” he said, meaning it.

Her smile broadened, and he felt her fingers touch his erection. She was very gentle, as he shook with desire.

“Then come on board. You’re in for the ride of your life,” she said, and pulled him purposefully towards her.

End of Book One

Kudos

Comments

Just as good

I'd previously skipped over this one, most TG/TS Sci-Fi is pretty bad, IMHO. But I should have trusted Tanya to get it right. I just hope there is a Book Two lurking somewhere in the not too distant future, as is implied by the ending of this.

Thanks!
Karen J.

"All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest"

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel

"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Whispers

Better than the first time I read it.

I get bored

saying it's well up to your usual standard, but it is. To coin a phrase: "Every little transgirl's dream - to be a beautiful super-heroine."

Susie

I just want to second what

Karen, Stacy and Susan have said.
Especially the part about book 2.

Itâ€™s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets weâ€™ll have,
David Weber â€“ In Fury Born

Holly

It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.

Holly

Book 2

The answer is, YES, there is one on my hard drive. It is almost finished, just needing a nice hanging ending, (so book 3 can be completed in due course).
If anyone knows where I can buy a few more hours a day, please let me know.

Tanya

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

Book 2, Please

Well? I'm waiting? ;)

I really enjoyed this. It doesn't really need a book 2 in my opinion but I'll be happy to devour it anyway.

I like the writing, the characters and the plot. What more could I want? More! :)

Thanks very much for this story.

- Terry

Does she break beds?

That last scene reminds me of a place in the movie called,"My Super X Girl Friend". She's ridin' pretty hard and drives the bed through the wall. Ye Ha!

Gwendolyn