Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2013 17:50:22 GMT -8
(This is copy write of Kristen Sarah Caughron Douglas, aka Bones. It is being posted as if written by her character Ezio D'orolione)
The jet’s twin engines roared steadily as it sailed on into the sunset. The passenger cabins were busy with activity as travelers chatted with one another and pulled back foil wrappers on dinner trays. Tessa Anderson sat facing forward in her seat, headphones pressed firmly against her ears. The small screen, that was in the back of the seat in front of her, showed Catherine Zeta Jones, listening to instructions through her own head set as she back-bent and flipped her way through a maze of laser trip-wires. Sean Connery’s voice filtered through both of the girls head sets, coaching the young thief as she wove her way to the prize. Tessa's fork of pulled pork hovered over her tray as she mouthed some of the lines with the actors. She loved the movie Entrapment.
Someone pulled the headphones off one ear. “You are such a geek.”
The headphones snapped back, trapping some of Tessa’s short, silky black hair to her head. She ripped them off and turned around in her seat to look at her best friend.
“Carla, you are so dead,” she said with a laugh. She was just reaching over the seat to get at Carla, who had her hands up protectively, when the seat belt light came on. Rolling sharp green eyes, Tessa turned back around in her seat and clicked her belt together. She could hear Carla behind her struggling to clip the two ends together over her slightly large mid section.
“Damn, I knew I should have picked the salad,” she grumbled. Tessa agreed with a grunt, her eyes fixed to the window. She pushed her sweeping bangs from her eyes, peering into the gathering dusk. Suddenly a large black shape shot by the window. Startled, Tessa craned her neck to look around the rest of the cabin to see if anyone else had seen it. The rest of the passengers, mostly the student group she had gone with to the British Isles, were busy talking with each other, putting their seat belts on. She slowly turned back to the window just as the plane banked suddenly to the right. Tessa gripped the arms of her seat, squeezing her eyes shut. Screams of panic echoed around her as the plane seemed to tip more and more. The flying ship finally righted itself after what seemed like ages, as suddenly as it had tipped.
The captain’s voice came on the PA system. “Sorry about that folks. Nothing to worry about. Just trying to keep a flock of geese out of the engines,” he said, his chuckle sounding a bit nervous as the atmosphere in the cabin remained tense. Tessa slowly opened her eyes again, turning back to the window. The same large, shadowed object kept dipping below the cloud ceiling then back up. Each time it reappeared, it was closer than the time before. Tessa was now leaning on the window, bracing with one hand against the fuselage. The second craft appeared again, this time close enough for her to see a figure in the cockpit. He turned his head and looked at her. The one seat jet was painted an odd pink color, tinted with an over coat of sheer royal purple. The face that looked back at her was the most beautiful, exotic face she had ever seen. His jaw was strong and box-like. His irises seemed to be a solid black with a matte like finish. Suddenly, Tessa’s plane dropped like a stone through the clouds. Just under the clouds, the passenger jet seemed to catch itself. She knew everyone around her must be screaming or crying, but she blocked it out. This time the pilot did not come on to try and sooth his passengers. From above the mystery plane slowly descended until it was level with her window. She now noticed the strange pilot’s cheeks where sunken in and his skin looked like tanned paper. He slowly raised an odd looking gun, pointing it at her through both windows. She winced as she saw it dimly fire and squeezed her eyes shut tight.
Tessa’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up on her cot. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. She crossed her legs under the sheets and leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. The crash that killed everyone on board except her and one other kid from that high school senior trip named Isaac Thompson, was just as fresh in her mind six years later as the night it had happened. There had been many other such crashes around the world in the subsequent months. Most of the crashes did not produce survivors, but every once in a while, there would be a miracle. Not one of the survivors had come away without some scarring. Tessa reached over her shoulder to her back. Her fingers gently ran over the scar that was exposed by her black ribbed, wide strap tank. They were caused by the fire after the crash and she had a matching pattern on the other shoulder blade. The oddest thing was they formed a picture of angel wings. Tessa stood up from her bed and pulled on a fresh pair of dark gray camouflage pants. She tucked the ends into the tops of black combat boots and looked around the room. Plain gray concrete walls stared back at her. An old beat up olive green metal gun case stood in one corner. Its grated door was closed and locked tightly. Next to it stood an open, door-less closet made of sturdy oak. Inside the closet hung three black leather dusters. An old fashioned, stainless steel footlocker at the end of her cot held a pile of folded tanks tops, camouflage pants, and two more pairs of boots. She glanced towards the door as a gentle knock sounded.
“Come in,” she said softly but firmly. The heavy metal door swung open. Kurt’s bright blue eyes looked at her respectfully.
“Are you ready for the final inspection, Captain?” His voice was low, calm, and sweet, like a tenor’s singing voice. Tessa was not a proper captain by military standards, but when the plane crash survivors had come together to form this small band, they had started to call her Captain. Knowing they would need a leader, she had allowed this. Tessa turned to look at Kurt. On each of his cheeks was a long, thin burn mark that was almost black, like a tattoo, and shaped like diamonds. Straight bangs of coppery brown hair hung almost into his eyes.
“Yes. Well, almost,” Tessa answered him. She went to the closet, pulling one of the coats out. Kurt nodded and knelt at her footlocker, shoving her clothes and shoes into an army-issued duffle. Everything they owned the team had gotten by pilfering from abandoned department and military surplus stores. Tessa pulled on her coat and buttoned the middle two buttons.
“Thanks, Kurt,” she muttered with a smile. She went to the gun case and unlocking it, pulled out four assault rifles and two pistols. Tessa strapped the pistols to her legs, extra clips where already on her weapons belt. She tossed three of the rifles, one at a time to Kurt. He laid two in the bag, making sure the safeties were on and then slung the third over his shoulder with the safety off. Tessa followed suit, making sure she had extra magazines for the rifles as well. She adjusted a few straps here and there then looked up at Kurt and nodded. The two of them walked out of the room. Kurt was dressed similarly to Tessa. She and Kurt had designed the black ribbed tanks, dark gray camouflage pants, and black combat boots as the official uniform of the group. Their boots thudded heavy and dull on the hard concrete floor. Florescent lights flickered, some more violently than others, overhead. Over half of them had gone out over the years and they had run out of spares. The damp smell that permeated the air was a constant reminder they were under ground.
It had been six years since the first alien attack that had changed everything. After Tessa had been released from the hospital, things returned to relative normality. There were still the other plane crashes she heard about on the news, but she tried to enjoy a life she thought she would lose when her own plane went down. It was not long after her arrival home that she and her parents discovered a much greater change besides the odd shaped scars on her back. She had been helping her parents work on the roof when suddenly she lost her balance and tumbled off. Tessa closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate after dodging it once. There was a tearing sound as something ripped the back of her shirt open. Tessa’s mother abruptly stopped screaming as the 16 year-old felt her decent unexpectedly halt. She slowly opened her eyes to find herself hovering about a foot above the ground, suspended on angelic wings of white feathers. She realized that while she was falling she had imagined the angel she would see in heaven with its wings outstretched. Over the next year, she learned how this new found power of hers worked. Finding her powers had lead her to contemplate the idea that possibly other crash survivors had acquired an odd power as well. Tessa set up a web-site for survivor support and slowly formed a bond with many of them. The strongest of the bonds was with Kurt Dewald, who could absorb metal through his hands by pushing it in and then fire it back out as shrapnel using a whipping motion of his arms. Another survivor was the kid from her class, Isaac, who found he could manipulate fire, but only if his body was relatively dry. Other survivors where Abby and Ian Morgan, Jack McCullen, and Bill Woodman. Two years later the main attacks began and internet communication was knocked out. Everything in whole states and countries was flattened by the alien’s superior fire power. No one could figure out how it worked. Civilizations where wiped out as fast as ice cubes melt in boiling water. For the next two years the attacks decimated the world’s population. Now, in 2014, only a couple thousand people where left, scattered around the Earth. Those who were left knew they only had this one chance to save Earth. Just one life to save all they had ever known.
Tessa and Kurt rounded the corner and entered a short hallway.
“You go ahead Kurt,” Tessa said. “I’m going to get…” She broke off and just looked at Kurt.
He nodded and said, “Yes, Captain. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tessa opened a door that was on her left. Kurt continued down to the end of the hall and stood facing yet another metal door. He punched in a combination on the out dated security pad. He hit enter, looking over his shoulder at the door Tessa had gone through. Kurt heard a loud, echoing click as lock opened. He pulled the door open and stepped into a huge rectangular room. The team was on the lower level going through some hand to hand combat routines. Isaac looked up as Kurt walked in.
“Hey there Steel. Care for a sparring match?” Isaac asked him as Kurt descended the steps to the lower level.
Kurt smiled and shrugged his duster off. “Sure why not. We have a little time left.” The others moved back to the walls to watch the two combatants. The red haired fire controller dropped his coat as well. Running up both of Isaac’s arms where scars that resembled graphic novel styled flames. There were as red as they day they had been made, making look as though they had been made yesterday. The two men circled each other slowly. Kurt’s eyes never left the cold grey eyes that looked back at him from Isaac’s face. They lunged at each other, arms out. The Kurt braced against Isaac’s hips while Isaac did the same to him. They pushed, going back and forth, trying to gain an advantage. Kurt gave Isaac and hard shove to knock him off balance, and then brought his foot up, hitting Isaac in the back of the knee with his heel. Kurt spun away as Isaac fell to his knees. Isaac looked back over his shoulder at Kurt, anger simmering deep in his eyes. Isaac stood half way up and charged at him. Kurt bent down to meet him, but Isaac spun away too Kurt’s right. The fire manipulator’s fist made solid contact with Kurt’s kidney.
Kurt folded in half, falling to one knee. “That was a cheap shot Isaac,” Kurt said, his calm voice laced with pain.
“You are the cheap shot,” Isaac fired back. The resentment he felt for Kurt being chosen as Tessa second in command dripped from ever word. “It should have been me. I knew her the longest.” He voice rose, with every step he took towards Kurt. Kurt stumbled to his feet and started to back up. Flames began to engulf Isaac’s hands, and then his arms.
“Isaac, calm down. She has always treated everyone here fai…” He was cut off as Isaac launched a fireball at him. Kurt dove to the side and rolled back up to his feet. Isaac started throwing fireball after fireball at Kurt, and it took all of his targets skill to keep one step ahead. Suddenly Isaac fell to the ground, drenched with water. Tessa looked down at him, her eyes ablaze and wings that were shaped like angel wings but made of falling water, which never touched the ground, flexing from her shoulders. Tessa reached down and grabbed his throat as Isaac tried to scoot away from her. Her wings melted into black mist. When they solidified, they where huge black dragon wings with blood red bones. She lifted off of the ground with powerful strokes, taking Isaac with her.
“What the hell are you thinking Solar Flare?” She demanded of him. Isaac’s mouth moved soundlessly. “That’s what I thought. You weren't thinking,” Tessa said, her voice a dangerous growl. She dropped him the three feet to the ground and turned to the rest of the group, still hovering above them.
“I was going to give you one of those last-stand, inspirational speeches. But those are best left to poets, minstrels, and the end of war,” Tessa said. She looked at Isaac, clearly showing that she was still unhappy with him. “Now, is the time for loyalty, honor, and revenge. Today we join up with the small band of marines and green berets” She lifted her chin and raised her voice defiantly. “The Gemini will see our families and friends avenged!” Her team responded with a resounding ‘haroo, haroo,’ punching the air with clenched fists.
“Also, from here on out, you will refer to each other using only your call signs while in public,” she said, then nodded to Jack. He turned to the group and shouted, “Gemini, dismissed!” The group saluted her and Kurt then went about making sure they were ready to leave. Abby and her little brother, Ian made their way towards Tessa.
“Angel?” Abby asked, using Tessa’s call sign as instructed.
“Yes, Flora.” Tessa responded slowly sinking to the ground and folding her wings back under her coat through the vents on the side. She looked between the two of them as they glanced at each other.
“Um, my brother wants to change his call sign,” Abby said softly. Her speech picked up pace as she continued. “He doesn't like Faun and his dog, Charlie doesn't like it either. Charlie always calls him Bambi. At least that’s what Ian says Charlie says, ‘cause they talk in their minds.” The young girl fidgeted and glanced at her brother again. A large German Shepard stood protectively by the boy’s side. Tessa smiled and chuckled kindly.
“Of course.” She raised her voice to the rest of the room. “Gemini, Faun is not to be called Bambi, upon my order.”
Her band answered her in unison, “Ma’am. Yes ma’am!”
Defirious paced the command deck, before stopping and leaning his tall, six foot six inch frame over that railing. His cold black eyes looked back his small nose to a huge screen that was showing a battle raging in the streets of New York. Agitation streamed over his handsome, elfin like face. Once the Basarian had figured out their bio-weapons did not affect these measly ‘humans’, as they called themselves, as the Basarian had predicted, they had stopped crashing plans. They had found the bio-weapon technology that had been designed to slowly kill their own kind, either quickly killed these beings, or gave them strange and super human powers. As the General Commander of this expeditionary force, Defirious had set out to find and recruit these gifted humans. Most had joined, some not so willingly, all except a small group that had hidden themselves underground in the labyrinth of tunnels and sewers that lay beneath the streets of New York City. The doors behind him slid open with a sigh.
“Commander,” a stringy voice said from behind him. Defirious did not turn to look at his Lieutenant. “Commander,” the Lieutenant started again, this time continuing. “We still cannot find that small group. They seem to again have advance warning of our coming.” Defirious slowly turned to the other Basarian, the very air around him seemed to become icy.
“Fiensten, my dear Fiensten,” he said, his voice low and dripping with sarcastic sadness. “Why must you torture your honored Commander and loving brother.”
“I’m…I’m sorry Defirious. I try my best.” Fiensten’s words where shaken and panic stricken.
Defirious’s gaze left much to be desired on the point of a loving brother. “Clearly your best is not enough,” he said rounding fully on his brother. He quickly pulled his side arm and shot Fiensten with deadly aim. The plasma projectile that blasted from the muzzle burned a hole in the Lieutenant’s chest. The acid it was laced with widened the hole considerably as it melted the soft and hard tissue away like fire melts wax. Fiensten’s body slumped to the floor. Faces looked up through the clear floor and the hole in the Basarian’s body momentarily before they returned hastily to their tasks. Defirious holstered his Melatang gun and turned back to the large screen he had been watching.
“Computer, pull up all files on “Angel” and all known associates,” the Commander said. The computer started going through millions of files causing the screen to flip and slide like a gyroscope trying to land on the side of a ball. It finally stopped on a picture of Tessa that had clearly been taken at a distance. The computerized voice began to recite information that had been store with the file in a soft, free flowing voice.
As the computer spit this information out, pictures popped up, corresponding to each person with a list of other known statistics to the side of the picture.
Defirious interrupted the computer not looking up. “Last known location,” he demanded. The screen instantly wiped black and a layout of New York’s entire labyrinth of passages spun up from the depths of the screen.
“Quadrant S29, A40,” the computer said, in a monotone, as the screen zoomed in on the quadrant showing a mass of weaving tunnels that went down deep into the earth under New York.
“Baknas,” Defirious barked, still glaring at the long fingers of his hand which had death grips on the railing.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Baknas said, moving instantly to stand just behind his Commander.
“Take your Lancers and post them at all of the underground entrances in that quadrant. And get rid of that body. It’s straining the carpet.”
Baknas saluted him silently, then turned to the males behind him and began giving orders for the removal of the body and the formation of patrol squads. Defirious went through a set of air-locked doors into his private chambers. He slumped into his high back chair, swiveling it around to face the wall that held a number of family images. Their ruling Mother would not be happy that he had just killed his little brother. But military life for the Basarian left no room for family favoritism and sympathies.
“INCOMING!”
The warning was barely heard over the shell exploding overhead. Marines and Green Berets dove into bomb made pits in the pavement and threw themselves behind walls of what remained of nearby buildings. Shrapnel skipped along the already torn up ground and embedded itself into walls. Pieces of buildings broke off to join the flying shrapnel. Oaths and curses where screamed as debris hit the soldiers. Marine Gunnery Sergeant Nick Drischer looked up quickly from the fox hole he was in as the sound of gunfire suddenly cut through the exploding shells. He knew that against a ground assault, they were out numbered and out gunned by the Basarian.
“FALL BACK! FALL THE FUCK BACK!” Nick yelled the order to all those near him, who took up the call. Near by, Nick heard Green Beret Staff Sergeant John Freemen yelling orders as well. “To the bunker!” John grabbed the arm of a soldier who seemed to be a bit dazed. Dust came off the grayish-green, standard issue military camouflage in a lung clogging puff. “Move, shit head, or I’ll leave ya out here for those damned piss eatin’ space gooks,” he growled giving the young man a shove to the south where they had jack-hammered a trench into the street. They had gone all the way through and into the sewer below to give the soldiers more cover. John and Nick knelt down and began firing past the five dozen men and half a dozen women that started materializing out of the rubble that had once been downtown New York. The entire city looked like an expansion of Ground Zero. With its smoking pits of charred concrete and asphalt, partial walls that teetered on the brink of collapse, and the twisted steel skeletons of builds that brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘The Steel Jungle’. As the last fighter past the Gunnery and Staff Sergeant, they stood up and started running by the successive rows of men and women kneeling to provide cover. A small group had already reached the trench and were shooting over the top. Nick flinched as a stray bullet skipped off the top of his helmet. He and John jumped down into the trench. The open sewer was at their backs.
Nick looked at John, smiling grimly. “Hey, Freemen. Tell your men to shoot better. I want to keep all my limbs,” he yelled at the Staff Sergeant.
“My men shoot just fine. Maybe you should run better Gunny,” John shot back with a grin. Nick turned away from the Green Beret and started yelling encouragements to those still running in. He saw one kid jerk to the left as he took a hit in the side, but continued to run.
“That’s right, marine! Come on, you can make it. Get yer ass in here!” Nick shouted to the kid when he saw him stumble once. The young marine collapsed and tumbled into the trench, then rolled right into the sewer below. His screams of pain echoed up to those above.
“Sir, sir, you might want to come down,” a marine called up to Nick. “Sir, he’s convulsing.” Nick dropped down into the dim, putrid tunnel. Four soldiers held down the kid as a fifth yanked a barb out of the wounded marine’s side.
“Fuck. He’s been hit with one of them mother fuckin’ neurotoxin darts,” the marine who had pulled it out said, flinging it into a corner in anger. The kid’s eyes rolled back into his head as saliva, mixed with blood, foamed at his mouth. Nick slowly drew his side arm. A Green Beret took off the wounded marine’s helmet as Nick leveled the muzzle with the injured boy’s head. Gunfire continued to sound over head, but it seemed slower and muffled to Nick’s ears. He closed his eyes, a tear running down his cheek. Opening his eyes, the Gunnery Sergeant squeezed the trigger. He saw the muzzle flash, the kid’s head snap back, and blood begin to pool as if in slow motion. More tears slowly slid down his cheeks as time seemed to return to a normal speed, his mind still buzzing and feeling as dead as the marine at his feet. Nick holstered his gun, barely feeling John pat him on the back. One of the marines ripped the dog tags off the body and handed them to Nick. All those nearby stood at attention and saluted their fallen brother. Nick looked down and read the name off the tags.
“Private First Class, Luke Hodges. May God bless you, marine. Semper Fi.” He pulled himself up to attention and saluted the boy. He dropped the tags into a ruck sack. They made a gentle clinging sound as they hit others that where slowly building up. Maybe some of these soldiers parents, aunts, uncles, kids, still lived. And maybe someday these tags would be given back to the families as closure. That’s the only reason they kept the tags and until that day, they would sit in the bottom of this ruck sack. Nick slowly turned and slipped away from the group. He could hear John behind him giving orders to take everything off the body that was useful, then burn the remains. Nick rounded a corner and ducked into a side tunnel.
He ran his hand along the wall thinking, Why does there have to be so fucking few of us and so God damned many of them. He slammed the side of his fist against the wall, splitting the skin a bit. “So fucking few,” he cried in anger.
A soft voice broke through the echo of his own yell. “You don’t have to be so alone, Marine.” Nick swung his rifle off his shoulder spinning around and leveling it at a shadowed figure.
“You have five seconds to state who the hell you are, and what the fuck you are doing down here,” he said, his deep brown eyes never leaving the female figure. “Or I decorate these fuckin’ walls with your brain.”
“Don’t threaten my Captain,” a voice growled from behind her. A flickering orange, red, and yellow light began to grow, illuminating the group before him. He could see that a young man was producing a large fire ball in his hands. The female this young man had called ‘Captain’ suddenly lunged back, hitting him in the stomach interrupting him. Nick squeezed the trigger on his rifle three times rapidly. Just as he pulled the trigger, a wall slid between him and the group out of nowhere. He lowered his rifle when he noticed the wall looked to be made out of Kevlar and his rounds could be seen lodged in it.
“You may call me ‘Angel’. My group and I are here to help,” the female voice said. “I’m going to lower my wing. Don’t shoot.”
Nick stood there, thunderstruck. “Wing?” It suddenly dawned on him as he watched the ‘wall’ slide away, and realized it was a wing fashioned like that of an gargoyle. Tessa let her eyes meet Nick’s for a moment before she rounded on the one who had been about to attack him.
“That’s twice today you have been out of line Flare,” Tessa hissed, only inches from his face. “Get out of my sight and go stand next to Steel.” The young man dropped his shoulders and pushed his way to the back of the group. Tessa turned back to Nick and opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
“You, you are one of those people. The freaks that are in league with the aliens.” He knew he sounded stupid, but he could hardly think straight.
“Yes and no,” Tessa said stepping forward. “Yes, we do have powers like them. But we chose not to work with the aliens. We chose to fight for our lives, our freedom, and our country. And right now, we want to join you and the other marines and Green Berets in that fight.” Tessa’s voice sounded a lot more calm and smooth than she felt. She could feel her heart beat in her chest and thought that if she looked down, she would be able to see it rhythmically poking out of her chest with each beat.
Nick raised his rifle, aiming it at her head. “Don’t take another step.” He reached for the switch on his radio.
“Radar,” Tessa mumbled quietly, so that Nick couldn't hear. Nick’s radio was suddenly consumed with static. “Marine, just listen for a moment,” Tessa said almost pleading. She stepped away from her group so she was in the space between the Gemini and Nick. She slowly slung her rifle off her shoulder, one hand in the air at all times, and slid it across the floor to Nick. She repeated this action with her pistols.
Nick kicked the weapons even further away from her. He looked at her hard as though trying to see through any smoke and mirrors. “Fine,” he said finally. “Start talking. But let me just say this, I have no fucking reason to believe you or trust you. My men are being killed left and right by people like you. The ones that work for those yellow bellied whores.”
Tessa paused for a moment, then looked up with hope in her eyes. “There is a way to make sure that we have not been enslaved by the aliens. Do you have something that can see in the infrared spectrum?”
The Marine Gunnery Sergeant nodded. “Of course. Our HINDASS goggles have that capability.” Nick began slowly pacing in front of her. He would have liked to circle her, get behind her so she could not see him, but then his back would be to the rest of her people.
Tessa let a relieved smile cross her lips. “Good. Because all of the aliens and those who work for or are enslaved by them, are marked with a dog tag of sorts that can only be seen in that spectrum.”
“Oh? And how the hell do you know that?” Nick stopped right in front of her. He stepped in, just inches from her face, trying to intimidate her. “Been havin’ some fuckin’ tea with those fuckers?”
Tessa’s grin became a little more sadistic. “We have ways of getting information out of those we capture.” Nick looked a bit weary of her as her took a step back. He never thought he’d see the day when torture was accept, much less practiced by a woman.
“Radar, that’s enough thank you,” Tessa said, her eyes never leaving Nick. Nick stepped even further away from her as his radio suddenly cleared and a voice brought it to life.
“Sir? Gunnery Sergeant? Do you read me? This is Tango Sierra. Are you there?"
“Yes Tango Sierra, this is Hotel Charlie. I need a double escort squad here right away,” Nick said into the radio, the barrel of his gun never leaving Tessa’s chest, nor his eyes her face.
“Sir, it is good to hear your voice. Please state you location.”[/b]
“I’m about twenty yards south-east of the bunker. First right hand passage you come to. Oh and bring a pair of HINDASS goggles with you.”
“Roger that VC. We are on our way now.”[/b]
“Make the rest of your squad disarm themselves Angel,” Nick ordered, placing his other hand back on the rifle. Tessa turned and commanded her band to disarm. Four rifles and five pistols slid to Nick’s feet. “Now you might as well make yourself comfortable. It may be a while.” Nick’s voice was still firm. He was still uneasy about this group of gifted suddenly making an appearance so close to his bunker. The Gemini sat down uneasily along the wall but breathed a little easier, realizing they had crossed the first barrier.
Alpha
The jet’s twin engines roared steadily as it sailed on into the sunset. The passenger cabins were busy with activity as travelers chatted with one another and pulled back foil wrappers on dinner trays. Tessa Anderson sat facing forward in her seat, headphones pressed firmly against her ears. The small screen, that was in the back of the seat in front of her, showed Catherine Zeta Jones, listening to instructions through her own head set as she back-bent and flipped her way through a maze of laser trip-wires. Sean Connery’s voice filtered through both of the girls head sets, coaching the young thief as she wove her way to the prize. Tessa's fork of pulled pork hovered over her tray as she mouthed some of the lines with the actors. She loved the movie Entrapment.
Someone pulled the headphones off one ear. “You are such a geek.”
The headphones snapped back, trapping some of Tessa’s short, silky black hair to her head. She ripped them off and turned around in her seat to look at her best friend.
“Carla, you are so dead,” she said with a laugh. She was just reaching over the seat to get at Carla, who had her hands up protectively, when the seat belt light came on. Rolling sharp green eyes, Tessa turned back around in her seat and clicked her belt together. She could hear Carla behind her struggling to clip the two ends together over her slightly large mid section.
“Damn, I knew I should have picked the salad,” she grumbled. Tessa agreed with a grunt, her eyes fixed to the window. She pushed her sweeping bangs from her eyes, peering into the gathering dusk. Suddenly a large black shape shot by the window. Startled, Tessa craned her neck to look around the rest of the cabin to see if anyone else had seen it. The rest of the passengers, mostly the student group she had gone with to the British Isles, were busy talking with each other, putting their seat belts on. She slowly turned back to the window just as the plane banked suddenly to the right. Tessa gripped the arms of her seat, squeezing her eyes shut. Screams of panic echoed around her as the plane seemed to tip more and more. The flying ship finally righted itself after what seemed like ages, as suddenly as it had tipped.
The captain’s voice came on the PA system. “Sorry about that folks. Nothing to worry about. Just trying to keep a flock of geese out of the engines,” he said, his chuckle sounding a bit nervous as the atmosphere in the cabin remained tense. Tessa slowly opened her eyes again, turning back to the window. The same large, shadowed object kept dipping below the cloud ceiling then back up. Each time it reappeared, it was closer than the time before. Tessa was now leaning on the window, bracing with one hand against the fuselage. The second craft appeared again, this time close enough for her to see a figure in the cockpit. He turned his head and looked at her. The one seat jet was painted an odd pink color, tinted with an over coat of sheer royal purple. The face that looked back at her was the most beautiful, exotic face she had ever seen. His jaw was strong and box-like. His irises seemed to be a solid black with a matte like finish. Suddenly, Tessa’s plane dropped like a stone through the clouds. Just under the clouds, the passenger jet seemed to catch itself. She knew everyone around her must be screaming or crying, but she blocked it out. This time the pilot did not come on to try and sooth his passengers. From above the mystery plane slowly descended until it was level with her window. She now noticed the strange pilot’s cheeks where sunken in and his skin looked like tanned paper. He slowly raised an odd looking gun, pointing it at her through both windows. She winced as she saw it dimly fire and squeezed her eyes shut tight.
***
Tessa’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up on her cot. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. She crossed her legs under the sheets and leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. The crash that killed everyone on board except her and one other kid from that high school senior trip named Isaac Thompson, was just as fresh in her mind six years later as the night it had happened. There had been many other such crashes around the world in the subsequent months. Most of the crashes did not produce survivors, but every once in a while, there would be a miracle. Not one of the survivors had come away without some scarring. Tessa reached over her shoulder to her back. Her fingers gently ran over the scar that was exposed by her black ribbed, wide strap tank. They were caused by the fire after the crash and she had a matching pattern on the other shoulder blade. The oddest thing was they formed a picture of angel wings. Tessa stood up from her bed and pulled on a fresh pair of dark gray camouflage pants. She tucked the ends into the tops of black combat boots and looked around the room. Plain gray concrete walls stared back at her. An old beat up olive green metal gun case stood in one corner. Its grated door was closed and locked tightly. Next to it stood an open, door-less closet made of sturdy oak. Inside the closet hung three black leather dusters. An old fashioned, stainless steel footlocker at the end of her cot held a pile of folded tanks tops, camouflage pants, and two more pairs of boots. She glanced towards the door as a gentle knock sounded.
“Come in,” she said softly but firmly. The heavy metal door swung open. Kurt’s bright blue eyes looked at her respectfully.
“Are you ready for the final inspection, Captain?” His voice was low, calm, and sweet, like a tenor’s singing voice. Tessa was not a proper captain by military standards, but when the plane crash survivors had come together to form this small band, they had started to call her Captain. Knowing they would need a leader, she had allowed this. Tessa turned to look at Kurt. On each of his cheeks was a long, thin burn mark that was almost black, like a tattoo, and shaped like diamonds. Straight bangs of coppery brown hair hung almost into his eyes.
“Yes. Well, almost,” Tessa answered him. She went to the closet, pulling one of the coats out. Kurt nodded and knelt at her footlocker, shoving her clothes and shoes into an army-issued duffle. Everything they owned the team had gotten by pilfering from abandoned department and military surplus stores. Tessa pulled on her coat and buttoned the middle two buttons.
“Thanks, Kurt,” she muttered with a smile. She went to the gun case and unlocking it, pulled out four assault rifles and two pistols. Tessa strapped the pistols to her legs, extra clips where already on her weapons belt. She tossed three of the rifles, one at a time to Kurt. He laid two in the bag, making sure the safeties were on and then slung the third over his shoulder with the safety off. Tessa followed suit, making sure she had extra magazines for the rifles as well. She adjusted a few straps here and there then looked up at Kurt and nodded. The two of them walked out of the room. Kurt was dressed similarly to Tessa. She and Kurt had designed the black ribbed tanks, dark gray camouflage pants, and black combat boots as the official uniform of the group. Their boots thudded heavy and dull on the hard concrete floor. Florescent lights flickered, some more violently than others, overhead. Over half of them had gone out over the years and they had run out of spares. The damp smell that permeated the air was a constant reminder they were under ground.
--- --- ---
It had been six years since the first alien attack that had changed everything. After Tessa had been released from the hospital, things returned to relative normality. There were still the other plane crashes she heard about on the news, but she tried to enjoy a life she thought she would lose when her own plane went down. It was not long after her arrival home that she and her parents discovered a much greater change besides the odd shaped scars on her back. She had been helping her parents work on the roof when suddenly she lost her balance and tumbled off. Tessa closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate after dodging it once. There was a tearing sound as something ripped the back of her shirt open. Tessa’s mother abruptly stopped screaming as the 16 year-old felt her decent unexpectedly halt. She slowly opened her eyes to find herself hovering about a foot above the ground, suspended on angelic wings of white feathers. She realized that while she was falling she had imagined the angel she would see in heaven with its wings outstretched. Over the next year, she learned how this new found power of hers worked. Finding her powers had lead her to contemplate the idea that possibly other crash survivors had acquired an odd power as well. Tessa set up a web-site for survivor support and slowly formed a bond with many of them. The strongest of the bonds was with Kurt Dewald, who could absorb metal through his hands by pushing it in and then fire it back out as shrapnel using a whipping motion of his arms. Another survivor was the kid from her class, Isaac, who found he could manipulate fire, but only if his body was relatively dry. Other survivors where Abby and Ian Morgan, Jack McCullen, and Bill Woodman. Two years later the main attacks began and internet communication was knocked out. Everything in whole states and countries was flattened by the alien’s superior fire power. No one could figure out how it worked. Civilizations where wiped out as fast as ice cubes melt in boiling water. For the next two years the attacks decimated the world’s population. Now, in 2014, only a couple thousand people where left, scattered around the Earth. Those who were left knew they only had this one chance to save Earth. Just one life to save all they had ever known.
--- --- ---
Tessa and Kurt rounded the corner and entered a short hallway.
“You go ahead Kurt,” Tessa said. “I’m going to get…” She broke off and just looked at Kurt.
He nodded and said, “Yes, Captain. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tessa opened a door that was on her left. Kurt continued down to the end of the hall and stood facing yet another metal door. He punched in a combination on the out dated security pad. He hit enter, looking over his shoulder at the door Tessa had gone through. Kurt heard a loud, echoing click as lock opened. He pulled the door open and stepped into a huge rectangular room. The team was on the lower level going through some hand to hand combat routines. Isaac looked up as Kurt walked in.
“Hey there Steel. Care for a sparring match?” Isaac asked him as Kurt descended the steps to the lower level.
Kurt smiled and shrugged his duster off. “Sure why not. We have a little time left.” The others moved back to the walls to watch the two combatants. The red haired fire controller dropped his coat as well. Running up both of Isaac’s arms where scars that resembled graphic novel styled flames. There were as red as they day they had been made, making look as though they had been made yesterday. The two men circled each other slowly. Kurt’s eyes never left the cold grey eyes that looked back at him from Isaac’s face. They lunged at each other, arms out. The Kurt braced against Isaac’s hips while Isaac did the same to him. They pushed, going back and forth, trying to gain an advantage. Kurt gave Isaac and hard shove to knock him off balance, and then brought his foot up, hitting Isaac in the back of the knee with his heel. Kurt spun away as Isaac fell to his knees. Isaac looked back over his shoulder at Kurt, anger simmering deep in his eyes. Isaac stood half way up and charged at him. Kurt bent down to meet him, but Isaac spun away too Kurt’s right. The fire manipulator’s fist made solid contact with Kurt’s kidney.
Kurt folded in half, falling to one knee. “That was a cheap shot Isaac,” Kurt said, his calm voice laced with pain.
“You are the cheap shot,” Isaac fired back. The resentment he felt for Kurt being chosen as Tessa second in command dripped from ever word. “It should have been me. I knew her the longest.” He voice rose, with every step he took towards Kurt. Kurt stumbled to his feet and started to back up. Flames began to engulf Isaac’s hands, and then his arms.
“Isaac, calm down. She has always treated everyone here fai…” He was cut off as Isaac launched a fireball at him. Kurt dove to the side and rolled back up to his feet. Isaac started throwing fireball after fireball at Kurt, and it took all of his targets skill to keep one step ahead. Suddenly Isaac fell to the ground, drenched with water. Tessa looked down at him, her eyes ablaze and wings that were shaped like angel wings but made of falling water, which never touched the ground, flexing from her shoulders. Tessa reached down and grabbed his throat as Isaac tried to scoot away from her. Her wings melted into black mist. When they solidified, they where huge black dragon wings with blood red bones. She lifted off of the ground with powerful strokes, taking Isaac with her.
“What the hell are you thinking Solar Flare?” She demanded of him. Isaac’s mouth moved soundlessly. “That’s what I thought. You weren't thinking,” Tessa said, her voice a dangerous growl. She dropped him the three feet to the ground and turned to the rest of the group, still hovering above them.
“I was going to give you one of those last-stand, inspirational speeches. But those are best left to poets, minstrels, and the end of war,” Tessa said. She looked at Isaac, clearly showing that she was still unhappy with him. “Now, is the time for loyalty, honor, and revenge. Today we join up with the small band of marines and green berets” She lifted her chin and raised her voice defiantly. “The Gemini will see our families and friends avenged!” Her team responded with a resounding ‘haroo, haroo,’ punching the air with clenched fists.
“Also, from here on out, you will refer to each other using only your call signs while in public,” she said, then nodded to Jack. He turned to the group and shouted, “Gemini, dismissed!” The group saluted her and Kurt then went about making sure they were ready to leave. Abby and her little brother, Ian made their way towards Tessa.
“Angel?” Abby asked, using Tessa’s call sign as instructed.
“Yes, Flora.” Tessa responded slowly sinking to the ground and folding her wings back under her coat through the vents on the side. She looked between the two of them as they glanced at each other.
“Um, my brother wants to change his call sign,” Abby said softly. Her speech picked up pace as she continued. “He doesn't like Faun and his dog, Charlie doesn't like it either. Charlie always calls him Bambi. At least that’s what Ian says Charlie says, ‘cause they talk in their minds.” The young girl fidgeted and glanced at her brother again. A large German Shepard stood protectively by the boy’s side. Tessa smiled and chuckled kindly.
“Of course.” She raised her voice to the rest of the room. “Gemini, Faun is not to be called Bambi, upon my order.”
Her band answered her in unison, “Ma’am. Yes ma’am!”
* * *
Defirious paced the command deck, before stopping and leaning his tall, six foot six inch frame over that railing. His cold black eyes looked back his small nose to a huge screen that was showing a battle raging in the streets of New York. Agitation streamed over his handsome, elfin like face. Once the Basarian had figured out their bio-weapons did not affect these measly ‘humans’, as they called themselves, as the Basarian had predicted, they had stopped crashing plans. They had found the bio-weapon technology that had been designed to slowly kill their own kind, either quickly killed these beings, or gave them strange and super human powers. As the General Commander of this expeditionary force, Defirious had set out to find and recruit these gifted humans. Most had joined, some not so willingly, all except a small group that had hidden themselves underground in the labyrinth of tunnels and sewers that lay beneath the streets of New York City. The doors behind him slid open with a sigh.
“Commander,” a stringy voice said from behind him. Defirious did not turn to look at his Lieutenant. “Commander,” the Lieutenant started again, this time continuing. “We still cannot find that small group. They seem to again have advance warning of our coming.” Defirious slowly turned to the other Basarian, the very air around him seemed to become icy.
“Fiensten, my dear Fiensten,” he said, his voice low and dripping with sarcastic sadness. “Why must you torture your honored Commander and loving brother.”
“I’m…I’m sorry Defirious. I try my best.” Fiensten’s words where shaken and panic stricken.
Defirious’s gaze left much to be desired on the point of a loving brother. “Clearly your best is not enough,” he said rounding fully on his brother. He quickly pulled his side arm and shot Fiensten with deadly aim. The plasma projectile that blasted from the muzzle burned a hole in the Lieutenant’s chest. The acid it was laced with widened the hole considerably as it melted the soft and hard tissue away like fire melts wax. Fiensten’s body slumped to the floor. Faces looked up through the clear floor and the hole in the Basarian’s body momentarily before they returned hastily to their tasks. Defirious holstered his Melatang gun and turned back to the large screen he had been watching.
“Computer, pull up all files on “Angel” and all known associates,” the Commander said. The computer started going through millions of files causing the screen to flip and slide like a gyroscope trying to land on the side of a ball. It finally stopped on a picture of Tessa that had clearly been taken at a distance. The computerized voice began to recite information that had been store with the file in a soft, free flowing voice.
“Tessa Anderson, also known as Angel. Powers are thought to be the ability to form any style of wings. Limits unknown. Leader of a group of rebels known as “Gem”. Second in command: Kurt Dewald, also known as Steel Dragon. Powers known to deal with metal and using shards of it as projectile weapons. Known associates: Jack McCullen, a native of the island formerly known as Ireland, also known as Pops. It is unknown why he is called this and his powers are unknown. Isaac Thompson, also known as Solar Flare. Known to deal with fire. Bill Wooman, also known as Radar. No known powers. Siblings Abby and Ian Morgan, also known as Flora and Faun. Names relate to their powers over plants and animals.”
As the computer spit this information out, pictures popped up, corresponding to each person with a list of other known statistics to the side of the picture.
Defirious interrupted the computer not looking up. “Last known location,” he demanded. The screen instantly wiped black and a layout of New York’s entire labyrinth of passages spun up from the depths of the screen.
“Quadrant S29, A40,” the computer said, in a monotone, as the screen zoomed in on the quadrant showing a mass of weaving tunnels that went down deep into the earth under New York.
“Baknas,” Defirious barked, still glaring at the long fingers of his hand which had death grips on the railing.
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Baknas said, moving instantly to stand just behind his Commander.
“Take your Lancers and post them at all of the underground entrances in that quadrant. And get rid of that body. It’s straining the carpet.”
Baknas saluted him silently, then turned to the males behind him and began giving orders for the removal of the body and the formation of patrol squads. Defirious went through a set of air-locked doors into his private chambers. He slumped into his high back chair, swiveling it around to face the wall that held a number of family images. Their ruling Mother would not be happy that he had just killed his little brother. But military life for the Basarian left no room for family favoritism and sympathies.
* * *
“INCOMING!”
The warning was barely heard over the shell exploding overhead. Marines and Green Berets dove into bomb made pits in the pavement and threw themselves behind walls of what remained of nearby buildings. Shrapnel skipped along the already torn up ground and embedded itself into walls. Pieces of buildings broke off to join the flying shrapnel. Oaths and curses where screamed as debris hit the soldiers. Marine Gunnery Sergeant Nick Drischer looked up quickly from the fox hole he was in as the sound of gunfire suddenly cut through the exploding shells. He knew that against a ground assault, they were out numbered and out gunned by the Basarian.
“FALL BACK! FALL THE FUCK BACK!” Nick yelled the order to all those near him, who took up the call. Near by, Nick heard Green Beret Staff Sergeant John Freemen yelling orders as well. “To the bunker!” John grabbed the arm of a soldier who seemed to be a bit dazed. Dust came off the grayish-green, standard issue military camouflage in a lung clogging puff. “Move, shit head, or I’ll leave ya out here for those damned piss eatin’ space gooks,” he growled giving the young man a shove to the south where they had jack-hammered a trench into the street. They had gone all the way through and into the sewer below to give the soldiers more cover. John and Nick knelt down and began firing past the five dozen men and half a dozen women that started materializing out of the rubble that had once been downtown New York. The entire city looked like an expansion of Ground Zero. With its smoking pits of charred concrete and asphalt, partial walls that teetered on the brink of collapse, and the twisted steel skeletons of builds that brought a whole new meaning to the term ‘The Steel Jungle’. As the last fighter past the Gunnery and Staff Sergeant, they stood up and started running by the successive rows of men and women kneeling to provide cover. A small group had already reached the trench and were shooting over the top. Nick flinched as a stray bullet skipped off the top of his helmet. He and John jumped down into the trench. The open sewer was at their backs.
Nick looked at John, smiling grimly. “Hey, Freemen. Tell your men to shoot better. I want to keep all my limbs,” he yelled at the Staff Sergeant.
“My men shoot just fine. Maybe you should run better Gunny,” John shot back with a grin. Nick turned away from the Green Beret and started yelling encouragements to those still running in. He saw one kid jerk to the left as he took a hit in the side, but continued to run.
“That’s right, marine! Come on, you can make it. Get yer ass in here!” Nick shouted to the kid when he saw him stumble once. The young marine collapsed and tumbled into the trench, then rolled right into the sewer below. His screams of pain echoed up to those above.
“Sir, sir, you might want to come down,” a marine called up to Nick. “Sir, he’s convulsing.” Nick dropped down into the dim, putrid tunnel. Four soldiers held down the kid as a fifth yanked a barb out of the wounded marine’s side.
“Fuck. He’s been hit with one of them mother fuckin’ neurotoxin darts,” the marine who had pulled it out said, flinging it into a corner in anger. The kid’s eyes rolled back into his head as saliva, mixed with blood, foamed at his mouth. Nick slowly drew his side arm. A Green Beret took off the wounded marine’s helmet as Nick leveled the muzzle with the injured boy’s head. Gunfire continued to sound over head, but it seemed slower and muffled to Nick’s ears. He closed his eyes, a tear running down his cheek. Opening his eyes, the Gunnery Sergeant squeezed the trigger. He saw the muzzle flash, the kid’s head snap back, and blood begin to pool as if in slow motion. More tears slowly slid down his cheeks as time seemed to return to a normal speed, his mind still buzzing and feeling as dead as the marine at his feet. Nick holstered his gun, barely feeling John pat him on the back. One of the marines ripped the dog tags off the body and handed them to Nick. All those nearby stood at attention and saluted their fallen brother. Nick looked down and read the name off the tags.
“Private First Class, Luke Hodges. May God bless you, marine. Semper Fi.” He pulled himself up to attention and saluted the boy. He dropped the tags into a ruck sack. They made a gentle clinging sound as they hit others that where slowly building up. Maybe some of these soldiers parents, aunts, uncles, kids, still lived. And maybe someday these tags would be given back to the families as closure. That’s the only reason they kept the tags and until that day, they would sit in the bottom of this ruck sack. Nick slowly turned and slipped away from the group. He could hear John behind him giving orders to take everything off the body that was useful, then burn the remains. Nick rounded a corner and ducked into a side tunnel.
He ran his hand along the wall thinking, Why does there have to be so fucking few of us and so God damned many of them. He slammed the side of his fist against the wall, splitting the skin a bit. “So fucking few,” he cried in anger.
A soft voice broke through the echo of his own yell. “You don’t have to be so alone, Marine.” Nick swung his rifle off his shoulder spinning around and leveling it at a shadowed figure.
“You have five seconds to state who the hell you are, and what the fuck you are doing down here,” he said, his deep brown eyes never leaving the female figure. “Or I decorate these fuckin’ walls with your brain.”
“Don’t threaten my Captain,” a voice growled from behind her. A flickering orange, red, and yellow light began to grow, illuminating the group before him. He could see that a young man was producing a large fire ball in his hands. The female this young man had called ‘Captain’ suddenly lunged back, hitting him in the stomach interrupting him. Nick squeezed the trigger on his rifle three times rapidly. Just as he pulled the trigger, a wall slid between him and the group out of nowhere. He lowered his rifle when he noticed the wall looked to be made out of Kevlar and his rounds could be seen lodged in it.
“You may call me ‘Angel’. My group and I are here to help,” the female voice said. “I’m going to lower my wing. Don’t shoot.”
Nick stood there, thunderstruck. “Wing?” It suddenly dawned on him as he watched the ‘wall’ slide away, and realized it was a wing fashioned like that of an gargoyle. Tessa let her eyes meet Nick’s for a moment before she rounded on the one who had been about to attack him.
“That’s twice today you have been out of line Flare,” Tessa hissed, only inches from his face. “Get out of my sight and go stand next to Steel.” The young man dropped his shoulders and pushed his way to the back of the group. Tessa turned back to Nick and opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
“You, you are one of those people. The freaks that are in league with the aliens.” He knew he sounded stupid, but he could hardly think straight.
“Yes and no,” Tessa said stepping forward. “Yes, we do have powers like them. But we chose not to work with the aliens. We chose to fight for our lives, our freedom, and our country. And right now, we want to join you and the other marines and Green Berets in that fight.” Tessa’s voice sounded a lot more calm and smooth than she felt. She could feel her heart beat in her chest and thought that if she looked down, she would be able to see it rhythmically poking out of her chest with each beat.
Nick raised his rifle, aiming it at her head. “Don’t take another step.” He reached for the switch on his radio.
“Radar,” Tessa mumbled quietly, so that Nick couldn't hear. Nick’s radio was suddenly consumed with static. “Marine, just listen for a moment,” Tessa said almost pleading. She stepped away from her group so she was in the space between the Gemini and Nick. She slowly slung her rifle off her shoulder, one hand in the air at all times, and slid it across the floor to Nick. She repeated this action with her pistols.
Nick kicked the weapons even further away from her. He looked at her hard as though trying to see through any smoke and mirrors. “Fine,” he said finally. “Start talking. But let me just say this, I have no fucking reason to believe you or trust you. My men are being killed left and right by people like you. The ones that work for those yellow bellied whores.”
Tessa paused for a moment, then looked up with hope in her eyes. “There is a way to make sure that we have not been enslaved by the aliens. Do you have something that can see in the infrared spectrum?”
The Marine Gunnery Sergeant nodded. “Of course. Our HINDASS goggles have that capability.” Nick began slowly pacing in front of her. He would have liked to circle her, get behind her so she could not see him, but then his back would be to the rest of her people.
Tessa let a relieved smile cross her lips. “Good. Because all of the aliens and those who work for or are enslaved by them, are marked with a dog tag of sorts that can only be seen in that spectrum.”
“Oh? And how the hell do you know that?” Nick stopped right in front of her. He stepped in, just inches from her face, trying to intimidate her. “Been havin’ some fuckin’ tea with those fuckers?”
Tessa’s grin became a little more sadistic. “We have ways of getting information out of those we capture.” Nick looked a bit weary of her as her took a step back. He never thought he’d see the day when torture was accept, much less practiced by a woman.
“Radar, that’s enough thank you,” Tessa said, her eyes never leaving Nick. Nick stepped even further away from her as his radio suddenly cleared and a voice brought it to life.
“Sir? Gunnery Sergeant? Do you read me? This is Tango Sierra. Are you there?"
“Yes Tango Sierra, this is Hotel Charlie. I need a double escort squad here right away,” Nick said into the radio, the barrel of his gun never leaving Tessa’s chest, nor his eyes her face.
“Sir, it is good to hear your voice. Please state you location.”[/b]
“I’m about twenty yards south-east of the bunker. First right hand passage you come to. Oh and bring a pair of HINDASS goggles with you.”
“Roger that VC. We are on our way now.”[/b]
“Make the rest of your squad disarm themselves Angel,” Nick ordered, placing his other hand back on the rifle. Tessa turned and commanded her band to disarm. Four rifles and five pistols slid to Nick’s feet. “Now you might as well make yourself comfortable. It may be a while.” Nick’s voice was still firm. He was still uneasy about this group of gifted suddenly making an appearance so close to his bunker. The Gemini sat down uneasily along the wall but breathed a little easier, realizing they had crossed the first barrier.
