The General and I
By Autolycus, maynlinz@earthlink.net
The final confrontation between General Winsome and Jessica... Or is it?


This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons is only a figment of
your imaginations. Let's face it, we all wish these babes were real! Anyway,
they're not, so go take a nice cold shower.

BABES IN SPYLAND XI:

THE GENERAL AND I

(c) 1999 Autolycus

Here's the deal: This is the story of a genetically altered female who is not
only a perfect physical specimen, but also has psychic abilities. She was
created by the US government to be the ultimate espionage agent, although her
creator/father, the late Dr. Smitrovich, didn't know that at the time. She was
seized by an ultra-secret anti-terrorist government agency, the Aegis Group,
and (ultimately, but against her will) trained in martial arts and other forms
of combat, although she refuses to kill anybody, which drives the head of the
AG, General Armitage Winsome, absolutely nuts. By the way, her name is Jessica
Chance and this is her final encounter with General Winsome... Or is it?

~*~ For Deborah ~*~

As much as I disliked him--And loathed what he'd done not only to Dr.
Smitrovich, and even to Melanie, but also to corrupt the ideals on which our
great country had been founded to serve his own twisted political agenda and
personal pursuit of power--I never wanted him dead. Rotting in prison for his
crimes against humanity, yes; disgraced and branded the traitor he was, yes;
forced to suffer the humiliation of unwanted male attention, definitely; but
not dead.

That was far too kind a fate for a monster like General Winsome.

So, of course, that's the destiny he made sure would be his. But, as usual,
not without throwing pain and tragedy into my life one last time besides. And
in ways I never dreamed possible. Not in my most vivid nightmares.

I suppose this story really begins when I was a barely adolescent teen, the
day I met General Armitage Winsome, Director of the top secret Aegis Group,
but I'll get around to that a bit later. Instead, I will begin immediately
upon leaving the Vice President's office, after relating the results of my
mission on her behalf--With which she wasn't exactly overjoyed, but she did
understand and appreciate that Daphne wouldn't be bothering her, or anyone
else, in the future.

As I was driving to my Georgetown apartment, in order to collect my things and
head for the airport to fly out to California in order to continue my long
overdue vacation, I received a call from the General inviting me to come to
his home that evening in order to learn the identity of my mother...and to
accept evidence of his past treasonous activities and take him into custody.
To say I was skeptical of his sincerity would be a more gross understatement
than that uttered by George Armstrong Custer when he remarked to one of his
soldiers that they'd make short work of the Indians and be home in time for
supper.

But, I also knew that I wouldn't miss any opportunity, no matter how slight it
might be, to learn more about my mother. Unfortunately, so did he.

So, instead of packing and heading for the airport, I called my friend, and
former teacher, Dr. Cassandra Trotter, and explained my further delay. After
promising her that I would be careful--She was well acquainted with the
General and his underhanded tactics--she put Lupe on the phone and I got a
chance to speak with my best friend and lover for the first time in almost a
week.

"Jessica, is the past worth your future?" she asked, concern tinging her
voice.

"It's something I have to know. Besides, if Kallista was telling the truth,
she doesn't even know she has a daughter," I explained. "I owe it to her to
let her know she does."

"You know it's a trap, my friend," she sighed.

"Of course."

She laughed. "Be careful, Jessica. Lupe misses you a great deal already."

"And I miss you, too, Lupe. I will be careful. And, I'll join you as soon as I
can. How are things going, by the way? No odd effects from the serum, I hope."

She hesitated ever so slightly before replying. "No, no. Of course, it's not
even close to being a full moon yet. Lupe will keep her fingers crossed," she
said with the sad smile obvious in her tone.

"And I'll cross my toes. Are you sure everything is all right?" I pressed, not
altogether satisfied that she was telling me everything.

"Everything is fine. It's just some...dreams. You've got more important things
to worry about than my nautical visions," she chided.

I suppressed a laugh at her malapropism and instead said, "All right, but I
want to hear all about them when I get there in a couple of days."

Again, an almost imperceptible pause. "Of course. I will tell you everything
when you get here. In the meantime, be careful and take care of yourself. I'll
see you soon."

"Maybe in your dreams?" I suggested impishly.

"I hope not," she whispered. "Goodbye, Jessica, and good luck." Then, she
quickly hung up the phone before I could respond.

I thought about calling back and pressing her further on these dreams of hers,
but I knew her well enough to know that if she didn't want to discuss them,
she wouldn't. Then, I did my best to force my concern for her from my mind and
concentrate on my coming meeting with the General. But it wasn't easy.

If dear Lupe had meant to spare me further distress so I could focus on the
General, she had failed miserably.

Then, recalling that it had been several days since I'd spoken to Kendra, I
called her before it got too late in the UK. But, strangely, there was no
answer. Not even her voice-mail. It was right around eight in the evening
there, she should have been home, I thought. Then, I had to laugh at myself
for such a silly, possessive reaction. Kendra was a big girl, and she could
have very well been called away by business, the same as I had. I realized
that I was just disappointed at not being able to talk to her before facing
the General.

But that knowledge did very little to ease my concern over her absence.

* * * * *

So, with my head full of worry over not only Lupe's dreams, but Kendra's
unavailability besides, I made my way to the General's mansion in Maryland.
The long drive helped me sort out things in my head, and I was grateful for
the Indian Summer weather. Of course, even though it had been established a
few years ago that the uncharacteristically warm weather being experienced all
over the planet was the result of the depleting ozone and the "greenhouse"
effect, people persisted in calling the lingering warmer days of Autumn an
Indian Summer.

I wasn't sure exactly what to expect when I pulled into his circular driveway
and sat listening to the conclusion of the song on the radio before shutting
off my engine. I knew he was lying about giving himself up, and probably about
telling me who my mother was, but I hoped to be able to trick him into
revealing the latter at least...probably as he was about to kill me, I thought
ruefully, like a scene out of a spy thriller.

But, I also knew that wasn't the General's style. He would kill me without
hesitation, if he wanted me dead. I was gambling that he didn't, or that he
didn't want to do it himself for one reason or another. He'd had opportunities
in the past, and even tried to have me killed by others, but we still
maintained a professional relationship somehow. He was my boss, after all.

As I approached the front door, I wasn't surprised to discover that the house
was being blanketed with the radio frequency which short circuited my
genetically enhanced mental abilities. I would have been shocked if it hadn't.
I was almost grateful for it, to tell the truth, as it leveled the playing
field, should he have somehow managed to get Melanie out and have her waiting
to finish what she'd started no less than two times before. Namely, my death.

I knocked on the door and almost immediately it was opened by an elderly
gentleman in a tuxedo: Edmund Grim, his manservant. "Good evening, Miss
Chance," he said with a thick New England accent. "The General is expecting
you. He's in the study. Allow me to take your coat."

I let him help me remove my white, thigh-length jacket. "Thank you, Edmund," I
said as he hung it up in the closet. "How have you been?"

"I can't complain, miss. It's not much of a life, but it's better than living
on the street," he said with a wistful tone. "You're looking lovely this
evening."

I grinned since I was wearing my customary battle gear, consisting of a black
fishnet body stocking, leather boots and gloves, and a silver belt. "You
smooth talker, you," I replied, causing the old man to blush as he led me down
the hall to the General's study.

I thought back to my last, and only other, visit to this house, when I was
barely fourteen and still working with the Angel Team.

The old man named Grim opened the door and gestured for me to enter the room
beyond. I did so and looked for the first time upon the man who I knew
instinctively would become my greatest enemy. The General looked very much the
same back then, with a full head of hair and a bushy, walrus-like mustache. He
was a bit thinner, as I recalled, and his eyes weren't quite so faded. But,
other than that, he was very much the man he is today.

Since the frequency which negated my telepathic, and other, abilities hadn't
been discovered yet, he took the unusual precaution of silently reciting
various famous speeches by military leaders to keep me from reading his
thoughts. As I was still learning to master my unusual gifts back then, his
defense worked. If anyone tried such a ploy now, I would have no trouble
breaking past it, but, back then, it was sufficiently boring to prevent me
from digging deeper.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Chance," he smiled, indicating I should sit down
as George S. Patton's famous speech ran through his mind.

I sat down and asked pointedly, "What do you want with me?"

To his credit, he didn't balk at the audaciousness of the question. "I thought
we should get to know each other, seeing as how we'll be working together," he
replied. Unlike the few other adults not associated with Project Angel whom
I'd met, he didn't make the mistake of thinking that simply because I looked
like a child, I thought like one.

"You're mistaken, sir," I replied. "Dr. Smitrovich has assured me that I will
not be used for military purposes. Besides, I've had no training in that area,
other than on a purely theoretical and historical level."

"Those are the perfect bases from which to build a hands-on expertise,"
Winsome pointed out. "And, Ms. Chance, you will be working for me, one way or
another. I've spoken to President Carruthers about it, and he gave me his
personal word that he would convince Dr. Smitrovich to change his mind. After
all, most of his funding came from the defense budget."

"What?!" I blurted out before I could think better of it.

"It's true. Where do you think the money came from? Donations?" he chuckled,
enjoying my confusion and the solidification of his position of superiority
over me.

I remained silent, refusing to engage in any further discussion on the
subject, and he soon grew tired of me and had Grim escort me out.

The next time I saw him was almost two years later, on the eve of Carruthers'
defeat and the election of Linus Hemdale as President of the United States. I
had been on loan to the AG for a couple of months now, following an Executive
Order from President Carruthers, and had been undergoing some basic military
training at the hands of some of the General's more ruthlessly efficient
cohorts for a few weeks. I was not what you would call a good soldier. Not by
a long shot.

I was running through an obstacle course under the supervision of a man in his
forties named Sergeant Drake when I came to a target range. Naturally, I
absolutely refused to so much as touch the gun waiting there for me.

"Soldier! You WILL pick up your weapon and you WILL fire at those targets!"
Drake screamed, his face turning red and the veins in his neck bulging. "Is
that clear?"

"I keep trying to tell you, Sergeant Drake, that I'm not a soldier, and I
categorically refuse to touch that filthy gun. Guns are immoral," I added,
folding my arms across my still developing breasts.

The Sergeant's face turned a very disturbing shade of purple and he let loose
with a string of obscenities that quite frankly caused my face to turn red as
well. He finished by attempting to force the gun into my hands, striking it
against me rather harder than necessary in the process.

And that made me mad.

I was just learning of the awesome power that Dr. Smitrovich had bred into my
brain, and could barely control it yet, but I nevertheless focused my energies
on Drake and he began to claw at his throat and his eyes bulged grotesquely as
pressure within his skull built up to a dangerous level.

I might very well have killed him had General Winsome not stepped from behind
some bushes and applauded. "Excellent, Ms. Chance. Tap into that rage. Feel
its power growing within you. Kill him," he said coldly.

Stunned at his encouragement, I quickly ceased my telekinetic assault on poor
Sergeant Drake and he fell to his knees before me, coughing and gasping for
breath as the pressure in his skull returned to normal.

"Not today, General," I replied, turning and walking back toward the compound
which housed what was left of the Angel project.

Winsome merely chuckled and called after me, "One day, you will kill for me,
Ms. Chance. Mark my words."

I avoided him as much as possible after that, until Project Angel was formally
disbanded barely a year later. Then, when I was forced to join the Aegis
Group, I took every overseas assignment that was available to further avoid
coming into direct contact with him. After Dr. Smitrovich was murdered three
years later, I had no reason to return to the states at all and got myself
permanently assigned to the European division of the AG, where I remained
until I discovered hints that Winsome himself had been responsible for the
wave of terrorism which had swept across the country and compelled President
Hemdale to grant the Aegis Group the power to deal with it. But, that all came
before I knew he had any direct involvement in not only that but the murder of
Dr. Smitrovich as well.

I just didn't like him. Never did.

The old man named Grim opened the door and gestured for me to enter the room
beyond the heavy wooden door. I did so and looked for the last time upon the
man who I had known as my greatest enemy. "Hello, General," I said as Grim
closed the door behind me. "Shall we just get this over with and be done with
it once and for all?"

I looked around the room, halfway expecting to see a variety of lethal weapons
trained on me, but I should have known Winsome wouldn't be that obvious...or
as merciful as granting me a quick and painless death.

"Good evening, Ms. Chance. I had hoped we could sit and have a pleasant chat
before getting down to business. I'm sure you must have some questions for me,
and I'm feeling rather garrulous tonight," he replied in the closest to
"perky" I'd ever heard him. "Can I offer you a drink?" When I eyed him
suspiciously, he sighed and added, "I give you my word that I won't try to
poison you, Ms. Chance. You really should stop being so suspicious. I told you
exactly why I invited you here and I mean to do just that. So, how about that
drink?"

"Just some ice water," I replied, having had my fill of alcohol over the past
few days. He shrugged and reached over and removed a couple of cubes from a
silver bucket with a pair of silver tongs and placed them into an exquisitely
carved glass of fine crystal. He then removed a bottle of an expensive brand
of imported spring water and poured it into the tumbler. "Thanks," I said,
accepting the glass and sitting down in the chair opposite his. He smiled,
which made me nervous, but I figured he was just toying with me, as usual. "As
a matter of fact, General, I do have some questions. Why, being the first?"

"I will assume that you're referring to the acts of extreme patriotism I
orchestrated several years ago," he said, nodding and sipping nonchalantly
from his own drink.

"I would hardly call the brutal murders of thousands of innocent American
citizens 'patriotism,' extreme of otherwise, but I'm in no mood to argue
semantics with you, so I'll just say yes, that's what I meant," I replied,
sniffing the water cautiously before taking a drink.

He chuckled. "America was making a mistake. Hemdale was downsizing the
military faster than congress could spend the extra money, putting this great
nation at greater risk than it had ever been in during the last century's
so-called Cold War. Terrorism was a definite threat worldwide and it was only
a question of time before it become rampant here as well. But, if I had waited
for that to happen, there would have been no resources available to fight it,"
he said, anticipating my question.

"Not to mention no Aegis Group, since President Hemdale was on the verge of
legislating it out of existence," I added.

"Yes, Ms. Chance, that was also part of the equation. And I make no aplogies
or excuses for that fact. I turned Aegis from a broken-down, ineffectual
branch of the FBI into a state of the art defensive and offensive
organization. Even you can't deny that Aegis has been responsible for saving
thousands of those innocent lives you're so concerned about?" he asked,
raising a busy eyebrow questioningly.

"No, I can't deny that. But, it's also true that you've used the agency to
further your own political and personal ends by utilizing dangerous people
like Melanie, Kallista, Rashida, Lorelei, and others with little or no regard
for upholding the law or even defending the cause of justice," I countered.
"They work for the thrill of the kill and out of some incomprehensible sense
of loyalty to you personally."

"That was unnecessary, Ms. Chance. Despite your personal feelings about me,
you must give the Devil his due, so to speak, and admit that I'm one of the
greatest leaders in the history of the world," he said with a fair amount of
pride.

"Oh, yeah, you're right up there with Genghis Khan, Attila, Caesar, Napoleon,
Hitler, and every other two-bit dictator who thought the world would be a
better place if he were in charge of the whole shooting match," I snorted
contemptuously.

He surprised me by nodding and broadening his smile. "Exactly, Ms. Chance.
While you and most of the world may balk at their methods and descry their
motives, I assure you that's only because they lost. And, as we both know,
history is written and influenced wholly by the winners. I submit to you that
the world would indeed be a better place today if any one of the great men you
mentioned had actually succeeded in their endeavors," he stated.

For the first time, I really understood him. He was mad. Completely insane. I
suddenly felt very foolish for trusting him as far as I had and started to
casually look around and try to locate the method he intended using to destroy
me.

I shouldn't have wasted the effort.

"But, to return to your question, I couldn't allow the Aegis Group to be
dismantled, so I recruited a group of extreme patriots-"

"Ruthless mercenaries," I corrected.

"-and secretly trained them and then turned them loose on the American
heartland. Within weeks, Hemdale had signed the executive order which not only
assured the Aegis Group's continued existence, but increased its funding and
gave it carte blanche to use whatever means I deemed necessary to deal with
the crisis."

"Including the taking over and eventual shutting down of Project Angel, and
the seizure of myself," I finished.

"Precisely. It's a pity that Dr. Smitrovich refused to cooperate. We could
have made an entire army of creatures such as yourself. And, I've no doubt
that a man of his genius would have eventually discovered a way to enhance
male embryos, which, let's face it, would have suited my purposes to a greater
degree. Don't you agree?"

"Personally, I think you're underestimating how truly vicious women can be," I
shrugged. "But, that raises another question: If Melanie learned the identity
of my mother from Dr. Smitrovich before killing him, why did you have to wait
almost five years to get the information from Daphne Greene?"

General Winsome sighed deeply. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid dear Melanie proved a bit
of a disappointment. Perhaps I should have trained her more fully before
sending her into the field. It was foolish to trust a woman barely a year old
with such a delicate mission. Be that as it may, she refused to provide me
with the information, claiming that she might need it as a bargaining chip one
day if I decided that she was too dangerous to keep alive. I didn't know that
Daphne had recorded that session until this week, when I learned of your
interest in her prostitution ring. You'd give anything to learn the contents
of this disc, wouldn't you?" he asked, removing a DVD disc from his inner
pocket and holding it up.

"Not anything, General. Don't even think about using it to escape justice," I
replied.

"Justice!" he chortled, sliding the disc back into his jacket. "You say the
word as if it's a cosmically ordained absolute, independent of human
interpretation. But, I assure you, Ms. Chance, that justice only exists in the
minds of fools. The law is the tool of the powerful and influential. Any other
beliefs are delusional, which is why the masses so readily accept them. Those
innocents are obligingly oblivious to the true purpose of the courts. Like
lambs being led to the slaughter, they actually think they're there to protect
their rights. The truth, of course, is that their purpose is to slowly but
surely rob them of their rights by making rulings which erode the individual's
power while increasing that of the state in the name of those selfsame
innocents!"

As his booming laughter echoed in my ears, I stood up and announced, "Story
time is over, General. I've learned all I need to to see that you spend the
rest of your life in a maximum security federal prison awaiting your execution
for treason following your court martial."

"Even if I allowed that to happen, Ms. Chance, those in positions of authority
would never permit one of America's heroes to fall in such a public and
demeaning manner. America needs what heroes it can get, even tarnished ones
like me, Ms. Chance. No, I would be dealt with, quietly and permanently, but
not publicly. So, I fear that I did lie to you about the reason for your visit
here this evening."

"I kind of figured as much," I said, adopting a defensive posture.

"Oh, not to worry. I am going to hand these files over to you, and I assure
you, for what it's worth, that they do detail my so-called treasonous
activities. But, as I said before, they'll do you precious little good," he
said, reaching over and laying a hand on a stack of papers atop which sat a
box of computer disks. I stiffened involuntarily at both the movement and his
eerie calmness. "Relax, Ms. Chance, I've no intention of harming you," he
smiled.

"I get that pleasure, sis," a familiar voice said from behind me.

Before I could turn around, I felt a pair of strong arms loop beneath my own
and then lock fingers at the base of my spine. "Melanie!" I exclaimed as she
drove her knee up hard into my back.

"Nice to see you still remember me. What happened to those visits you
promised, huh, sis?" she snarled, whipping me around and smashing my face into
one of the bookshelves which lined the walls of the study. "Guess that was
just more smoke up my skirt, huh?" Still retaining the painful full-nelson,
she kicked my feet out from under me and I landed heavily on the hardwood
floor. She then took advantage of my being slightly stunned and bent both my
arms around until my wrists were even with the back of my head and proceeded
to bang my face into the floor.

"Careful, my dear, you don't want her too damaged, do you?" the General
chided, lighting his pipe and chuckling softly.

"I nearly forgot," Melanie laughed. She then flipped me over and buried her
fist deep into my gut half a dozen times, knocking the wind clean out of me.
"You need to look good for our little performance." As I lay helplessly
gasping for breath, she placed my arms beneath her legs and then started
pummeling my breasts and belly with hard rights and lefts.

"I don't know what you two have got planned, but I promise you that the only
'performance' you and I will be attending is your trial, Mel, because this
time I have proof that you killed Dr. Smitrovich," I wheezed, fighting to
simply draw air into my lungs.

"For once, my dear sister, you're absolutely right!" She cackled obscenely and
then grabbed a heavy book which had fallen from the shelf when she threw me
into it and used it to deliver a powerful right cross. "But, I'm afraid that
Smitty is old news, darling. Shall we show her the surveillance tape, daddy?"

"I don't see why not," nodded the General, turning on his HDTV and activating
his DVD player. "This was downloaded yesterday afternoon, approximately 2
p.m., London time."

At the word 'London' my heart skipped a beat and I looked over at the large
screen, fearing what I would see, yet already knowing somehow; I just hadn't
let myself believe it. But, there it was, the lobby of British Airways at
Heath Row Airport, and Kendra and Myrna were both there, walking up to Melanie
like she was an old friend. "How did you get them to the airport?" I forced
myself to ask, cringing when the murderous bitch seated on top of me reached
out and shook my lover's hand. The touch itself was incidental and innocuous,
but to me it was the defilement of something pure, something private that
should never have been involved in our private war.

"I made some discreet calls no one can trace back to me and arranged for Agent
Willowgate to meet a 'courier.' I made sure that she knew the agent who would
be arriving was a personal friend of yours, Ms. Chance. As for the redheaded
girl with her, that was purely her own doing," Winsome shrugged.

"I was glad she'd tagged along," Melanie grinned, watching as she was escorted
out by the pair of women. "It made things much more interesting."

"I suppose it's asking too much to hope they're being held somewhere to force
me to cooperate?" I said, knowing my eyes were welling with tears, but
refusing to give either Melanie or the General the satisfaction of seeing me
cry.

"Oh, they're being held somewhere, all right... the London Morgue," Melanie
giggled. "In pieces."

All the anger, sorrow, and helpless rage suddenly exploded out of me and I
bucked my body off the floor, freeing my arms, and immediately socked Mel in
the jaw so hard that she flew off me and crashed into the bookshelf. Before
she could recover, I stood up and kicked her hard in the gut. "Why did you
have to kill them, Mel?" I demanded, hauling her to her feet by her short,
black hair. I flipped her over my shoulder and she went sailing into the
General's stereo console, causing Winsome to retreat behind his desk.

"Because I knew it would hurt you," she replied, staggering to her feet. When
she turned toward me, I saw that her face had been cut by the glass door when
it shattered upon her impact. But, she still had that mad smile plastered on
her kisser and lapped obscenely at the blood which ran near her mouth. "And it
does, doesn't it, Jessica? It tears your soul out and fills you with a
murderous rage so fierce that you want to kill me, don't you? DON'T YOU???"

Did I? Part of me refused to believe that she was telling the truth, that she
was just tormenting me with the possibility of their deaths. But the other
part of me knew that so long as I clung to any hope that they were still alive
I was playing right into her hands. For it's not anger or sorrow that causes
one to seek revenge, to give in to those murderous impulses that exist in all
of us, those dark longings that even Dr. Smitrovich couldn't breed completely
out of me. No, the thing that drives people to kill isn't the darkness, it's
hope.

As Nietzsche once said: Hope in reality is the worst of all evils, because it
prolongs the torments of man.

So long as the possibility remains that things aren't as bad as they seem, or
that they'll get better, or, worse still, that you can make them better
through your individual actions, hope survives and thrives and drives you to
do unspeakable things.

Despair, on the other hand, and resolve, cause no outlandish reactions. Merely
acceptance of the way of the world. And that way is evil. Melanie had been
right all along: The world was one big fuck-up and no one was truly innocent.

Huh??? Where in the name of the Goddess did those thoughts come from? I heard
them in my head, and it sure sounded like me talking, but those weren't my
thoughts!

Confused, I looked over at the General and saw him fiddling with some controls
built into his desk and frowning. "She's resisting the advocation process," he
said, looking at a screen I couldn't see the face of.

Then, I heard the person he was talking to reply, and I suddenly got very
nervous.

"Increase the power output by 2%, but no more. We don't want to injure her
mind, just make it susceptible, and primed for the procedure, of course."

I was so startled to hear Koyuki Takagashi's voice that I left myself wide
open for a spinning jump kick by Melanie which tagged me on the cheek and
knocked me into the chair I'd been sitting in earlier. My little sister then
threw herself at me and landed with her ass on my chest, straddling both the
chair and me. But, it was a precarious position at best, and I was able to
push her over and cause her head to strike the floor. Unfortunately, there was
a thick Persian carpet in that part of the room which served to cushion the
blow.

I instantly leaped down on her, trapping her beneath my rear end for a change,
and peppered her face with sharp rights and lefts. When she tried to swing her
legs up and around my neck, I countered by sliding down, forcing my crotch
into her chin, and then grabbing her legs and forcing them to the floor. Her
hands flailed furiously, but they couldn't reach me, trapped as they were
under my knees.

She killed them. Cut them into little pieces while they were still alive. But
only after torturing and violating them in ways my mind can't force itself to
imagine. And she thinks they got what they deserved. What's to stop me from
giving her what she deserves? She's a homicidal maniac, responsible for the
deaths of dozens, possibly hundreds, of people. She shows no sign of remorse.
Quite the opposite, in fact. And there's no possibility that she'll ever be
rehabilitated. If it weren't for the General's influence, she would have been
executed when I first brought her in, and all those people she's killed since
then, including my beloved Kendra and Myrna, would still be alive. I'd be
doing the world a favor if I killed her.

"NO!!!!" I screamed, holding my hands over my ears even though the voice was
inside my head. "Get out of my mind! Leave me alone! I told you ten years ago
that I would never kill for you, General! And I won't!"

"I assure you, Ms. Chance, you will," he chuckled.

Suddenly, taking advantage of my distraction, Melanie forced her chin down and
savagely bit me between the legs, chomping down hard and then yanking her head
back and forth, tearing at the sensitive flesh even through the fishnetting.

I yelped in pain and sprang off of her backwards, sailing clean over the chair
and landing on my ass on the carpeted floor. Melanie shoved the chair at me
and forced me against the shelved wall, trying to crush me. But, I managed to
draw my knees up and then kicked out as hard as I could against the chair and
sent both it and Mel flying back into the remains of the General's stereo
system. This time, several of the components were destroyed, their insides
fusing with tiny explosions.

I got up at the same Melanie did and stalked toward her. She shoved the chair
aside and adopted a defensive pose. "She cursed you as she died, Jessica. They
both did," she smiled insanely.

I shook my head. "No, Melanie, they didn't. I know that as surely as I know my
love for Kendra was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. As surely
as I know that you never have, and never will, experience anything like it," I
added.

"Like... like I'd wanna anyway!" she shot back, sounding like the child she
truly was.

I stepped in and punched at her head with my left fist, but she blocked it
with her right forearm and swung at me with her left fist. But, I blocked that
with my right forearm, and then caught her with a backhand from my left hand
and quickly followed that with the point of my knee ramming up and into her
gut. When she bent over, I delivered an uppercut which knocked her back into
the shattered electronics.

Seeing a power cable that had been torn from its component, I reached out and
grabbed it by the insulated rubber and then shoved the hot end into Mel's
mouth as she gasped for breath.

Her dark eyes seemed lit from within as blue sparks danced inside her mouth
and her hair stood up on its ends. I knew the current wasn't strong enough to
do any real damage, but I was counting on it taking most of the fight out of
her.

Which it did.

By the time she pulled the cord from her mouth, her whole body was shaking and
she couldn't get her tongue to stop tingling. Besides that, smoke was actually
coming out of her ears.

I reached down and grabbed the remnants of her blouse and dragged her to her
feet. She could barely stand up, she was shaking so badly. I smiled and swung
my left fist around in a beautiful arc which connected solidly with her cheek,
just below her right eye, and snapped her head around. She might have actually
flown off her feet if I hadn't had a firm grip on her shirt. As it was, she
was helpless to prevent my backhand, which left a red welt on her left cheek.

I pounded a couple of blows home deep in the pit of her stomach and she had to
lean on me for support in addition to my hold on her top. "No mo'e, Thethica,"
she panted, still shaking from the shock treatment. "Beliethe me, you'll
wegwet it." She tried to smile but her mouth refused to cooperate.

"Nearly finished, little sister, and then it's back to prison for you. But,
the good news is that you'll have plenty of company since your father will be
joining you," I said, glancing over at the General, who seemed strangely
unconcerned that I was winning.

I moved my hand from her blouse to her hair, grabbing a handful and holding
onto it tightly as I drew my other hand back for the coup de grace, as they
say in France.

I never got the chance to deliver it.

A strange noise drew my attention from Melanie and I looked over to see the
General aiming a strange gun at me. It seemed to emit some kind of sound and
light, maybe even a concentrated gas. I'm not sure because at that moment
everything went black.

* * * * *

I dimly remember voices next. General Winsome's. Melanie's. And Koyuki's. But
everything was still dark.

"Did it work?"

"Of course it worked, didn't it, Jessica?"

"Yeah, it sure did! I can't believe you did it, doc!"

"I had no doubts. Even though it had never been tested on humans, the theory
was sound. You will remember your part of the bargain and arrange for my
release, I trust."

"Of course, I'll arrange for your release as soon as my own procedure is
completed."

"Um, shouldn't you do it now? I mean, who's gonna pay any attention to you
after its done?"

"She has a point, General."

"I'll take care of it right away. Then we can get me settled in my new home,
so to speak."

"It'll be neat having a little brother."

Then, the darkness surrounded me again and the voices faded back into the
babbling of my subconscious mind.

* * * * *

I awoke to sirens. They were loud and close. I could see the sun shining in
from the window behind the General's desk, so I knew it was morning. My body
felt awful. It had this odd, tingling sensation and ached all over. Even in
places Melanie didn't hit me, which seemed strange. Then, when I went to stand
up I noticed two things:

1) My hands weren't my hands. They were different. The nails were short and
the words "HATE" and "HOPE" were written across the knuckles.

2) They were covered with drying blood.

I looked around me and saw the General, or should I say what was left of him,
lying on top of his desk. I staggered over to him, but it was obvious before I
even reached for a pulse that he was dead. There was nothing left of his face.
It had been completely smashed in, by pounding it against the top of the desk
from the look of it.

There was no sign of Melanie and the screen with which he'd communicated with
Koyuki was destroyed along with the desk top.

At the sound of footsteps and gun safeties clicking off, I turned and found
myself staring at several of DC's finest.

"Step away from the General, miss," an officer said. He was clearly resisting
an urge to toss his breakfast.

Not wanting to cause any trouble, I did as instructed. "I can explain this," I
said, wondering if I really could. I suddenly realized how funny my voice
sounded.

"So can I, Melanie," I said, stepping into the room behind the officers.

I know how crazy that sounds, but it's the truth. Even though I was standing
by the desk and the mangled body of General Winsome, I saw myself walk into
the room and say those words... to me.

I scrambled for a piece of the broken glass doors and fearfully held it up to
see my reflection... and saw Melanie's face looking back at me.

"You'll get a one-way ticket to death row for sure this time, sister," Jessica
said to me... or did I say it to Melanie?

As I moved toward myself, I felt very dizzy. I put up no resistance as I
placed handcuffs on myself and was led out to a police car and shoved into the
back seat.

"Now we'll see how you like being locked up in a cell, big sister," I said to
myself, giggling.

One of the officers came out and got into the front seat with me and the three
of us drove off. As I chatted with the officer in the front seat, the me in
the back seat passed out.

The End

(For now)

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