Tom pulled out his cell phone and pushed the button to let him see the time. The screen lit brightly. He sighed. It was almost time to go. He put his phone away and downed the last of his coffee. He stood up from the concrete and dusted off his pants. He turned to head back to work, when he saw a shadow cross his field of view. It moved quickly, too quickly. It had looked like a person. Tom squinted and cursed using his phone a moment ago. It took a long time to get night vision and only a instant to ruin it.

"Who's there?", Tom asked. There was no answer. He stopped for an instant to listen for sounds, but the hum of the machines inside was all he could hear. He started walking. Another shadow crossed near him. Tom knew better than to stay where he was. He turned from the darkened area of the plant towards the light. The bright lights of the parking lot looked to him like salvation. He started at a brisk walk, but more and more shadows came near him. He turned and looked behind him as he started to run. He had been close to the building in the area where he could find the most solitude, but that put him 50 yards farther from the lights.

Tom hadn't run like this since he'd been in his 20's. He huffed and puffed and ran as he saw more people shapes. He couldn't hear them, but he could see them. He pumped his arms and raised up onto his toes digging in and sprinting. There was a little bit of the old high school wide receiver left in him. The area around him brightened as he made it near the end of the corrugated steel tunnel he had been in. Tom planned to make it to the light and turn right to head to the closest door. He was only twenty feet from the corner when a hand caught him, and stopped him. It caught him in the neck from the front. He choked and gagged when all his momentum had been stopped using his neck. That hand squeezed him so tightly that Tom thought his eyes were going to explode from the pressure.

His hands went and took hold of the wrist. He pulled with all his strength, but it wouldn't budge. He felt the pressure increase and he felt his feet leave the ground. Tom was struggling to maintain his grip when he heard laughing coming from beside him. He kept struggling, but he tried to focus. Tom's face was that of a man who was scared to his core, and the laugher only made it worse.

Tom's eyes finally began working together again and he focused first on the arm that held him up. It was a woman's arm, but a strong one. The muscles in her shoulders were set hard despite his kicking and attempts to wrest himself free of her grip. He looked past her arm and to her face. It was a beautiful face. Tom searched her face for strain and found none. She tiled her head a little and their eyes met. Tom looked into this woman's eyes for a trace of mercy. He found other things there instead.

He looked away when he heard the source of the laugher getting closer. A man in a ski mask stood next to the woman.

"Don't you look scared", the man began and laughed again. Then more masked people came into Tom's view. "We are the Revolution, and I am going to give you a chance to save your own life." The people around Tom laughed. He couldn't see their faces, but he could tell that they were enjoying this, except maybe for one.

"If you don't save your life this chick here is going to squeeze your neck until your head pops off. Squeeze him just a little bit harder, won't you."

X-424 had to obey. Tom looked down at the woman's face and their eyes met again. What he saw and what he felt were complete opposite. He saw the taunt muscles of her forearm flex just a little. The backs of her fingers dug into his neck increasing the pain.

"Ease off again", the man ordered. The pain lessened. "She's strong and beautiful too. Isn't she?" The man laughed. "Ease off a little more, so he can say how beautiful you are." Tom felt the pressure let up. "Now, isn't she beautiful?"

Tom nodded as vigorously as he could. As scared as he was, he wasn't lying to agree about this woman's looks.

"Well, we have to get started here, but about your life... Like I said, we are the Revolution, and you are going to join us. You are going to join us, or you are going to die. I only have a simple task for you to do." The man reached into Tom's pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it up and took out his divers license.

"So, Mr. Goss, do you want to join the Revolution?"

Tom nodded again without hesitation.

"Smart man! Damn smart man. Well I have a simple task for you. I want you right over there." The man pointed to a spot near a lamp post. "I want you to stay right there, and make no effort to leave or escape. Can you do that?"

Tom nodded again.

"Good. Now, if you try and leave then I'll know that you lied about wanting to join the Revolution, and I'll have to kill you and whoever else I find at 101 Bending Brook Avenue. Do you understand?"

Tears stung Tom's eyes as he nodded.

"Good. The task is simple. The police are going to come and talk to you once we finish our work here, and I want you to tell them the truth. Tell them exactly what you see from your vantage point. Can you do that?"

Tom nodded again.

The man turned his back and put a finger to his chin. "You're pretty fast for a middle aged guy. I'm going to do you a favor to make sure you keep your promise." He turned to face X-424. "Break both his legs." The man put his gloved hand over Tom's mouth while X-424 quickly snapped his lower legs. She then lifted him off the ground, and cradled him all the way to the lamp post. She set him down as easily as she could then backed away. Tom rubbed his bruised neck, and found that if he didn't move from the way she had set him down that the throbbing in his legs was manageable. Tom's uneasiness rose again though when the masked man came up to him.

"Get ready. The show's about to start." He leaned down a little and pointed to the roof of the building. Tom squinted and saw a woman. Her blond hair was tied into a pony tail, and she stood near a large industrial heating and cooling unit on the sloped roof of the factory. Tom watched as she put her hands on the side of one of the steel beams that kept the unit horizontal on the sloped roof. This woman's hands crunched into the steel and bent it to her will. He knew quickly that the steel wasn't what she was after. She as simply twisting it to quickly strip all the bolts than attached the unit to the brace. Once the massive unit was loose, she put her hands under it. The woman turned her hands and bent her legs. She moved her feet a couple of inches further apart. Her tight pants stretched around her tight muscular body. Those muscles tightened and flexed as she started to stand up. Her legs straightened as if she were lifting a sack of groceries instead of tons of machine. There was little noise as the machine tipped onto its edge with only two female arms holding it up. Tom's mind was having a hard time comprehending what he was seeing, but this was no trick. His broken legs and his throbbing neck told him how real this was. He looked down and saw the first woman walking away from him. She walked towards the rear of the factory building like an automaton. She stopped near the building and looked at it for a moment before she put her hands on the corrugated steel siding of the structure. Tom knew the strength in those hands, but he wondered what she planned to do. He didn't have to wait long to find out.

X-424 moved almost lazily as she took a good hold of the metal. She shifted her feet and stretched her upper body out to the left while her legs and hips were to the right. She wore a black outfit. The top and pants were contoured to her body, and every curve of her body looked ready for action. When the order was given, she unleashed the power stored inside of her.

The entire back end of the building shuddered and shook. X-424's legs held their ground, as she pulled her arms and torso to her right taking the steel with it. This siding had withstood tornadoes, but it had no chance to resist this single woman. Her strength was enough to distort the very girders that held the siding in place. She pulled her arms like she was opening a curtain. Dust trapped for decades fell to the ground as Tom watched a ballet of muscles dance and flex across X-424's back, shoulders, and arms. It was the most impressive and beautiful sight he had ever witnessed.

All the eyes in the factory turned to the back. They were all used to noise and vibration, but this was shaking the building down to the foundations. People let their tools go loose in their hands and let their curiosity take over. People frowned and some shrugged their shoulders. They were prepared to go back to work until they saw the side of the building being ripped open like a can. When the amazement of that paralyzed them, the leader gave the order to X-411, the Femme on the roof. She inhaled deeply to provide oxygen to her super muscles before she exploded up. The power started in her calves, up her tights, abs, shoulders, and arms. The heavy unit started over and it was never coming back. It crashed through the roof. There were ten people standing beneath the unit as it fell. Eight of them got out of the way. X-411 jumped down behind the unit, landing on the concrete floor. Then there were booms and screams on the other side of the building as the Femmes ripped their way inside. The factory workers started to run, but there was no way out. Luckily for them, they were not the Revolution's targets. If some of them died then it was blood adding to the cause, but the real target was the machinery that produced engines for military jets. Once the Femmes and Series 4's came in, civilized men and women turned into a mob running for their lives. People were trampled and crushed against machines as they ran. The men of the Revolution came inside with their guns and herded the people into one area of the building. Laughing as the factory workers meekly obeyed. No one resisted, and no one was shot. The men held the workers there while the Femmes destroyed every piece of equipment. It took only twenty minutes from beginning to end.

The police came only five minutes after the Revolution left the area. Paramedics tended to the wounded, including Tom Goss who stayed right where X-424 had put him until he had been lifted and put on a stretcher. The police had interviewed everyone at the factory, but none of them had really seen anything other than the men with automatic rifles. They had heard the destruction going on in the fabrication area of the factory, but only one person had seen anything. The story he told was more than that the local cops could believe. The doctors at the hospital checked his sanity. They were going to medicate him when two men in suits walked in.

"Excuse me doctors. I'm Special Agent Fowler, and this my partner Agent Nixon. Is Mr. Goss able to give a quick statement?"

The doctors let them in, and the two Feds walked up to the bed where both of Tom's legs were immobilized.

"How you feeling?", Agent Fowler asked.

"Not bad considering all this. The woman broke my legs in a place easy to set and heal. I guess that's good."

"Tell me what happened."

Tom told the story again from beginning to end. The two agents listened and wrote down notes. Every now and then the two agents would look at each other and pass a knowing look. Tom could only guess at what that look mean, but he told his story until the end.

"What did the woman look like?"

"I can't tell you everything. I was really rattled, you know what I mean, but she's tall for a woman. I couldn't say how tall. In her early 20's I guess. She's a pretty woman, more than pretty, really hot, but not in a trashy way. She looks like the girl at school who could have any guy she wanted. I looked at her face, but I think I saw her eyes the most.

'The eyes', Agent Fowler thought. He thought back to what his friend and former classmate Aaron Miles had told him. This man had given a general description of the woman Agent Miles was looking for. He could take this description and give it to Miles, but he needed more.

"Tell me more."

"I thought the woman was cold at first, like a robot, but not really. She was more like a fox in a trap. I saw it in her eyes. I could tell that whoever the woman was didn't really want to do what she was doing, but the man who ordered her had something on her. I couldn't say what." Tom stopped talking and took a deep breath. He had more to say, but the door to his hospital room flew open, and his wife rushed in. That broke Tom's train of thought. He opened his arms and his wife ran into them.

The two FBI agents looked at each other. They had what they needed. Tom had given them a description of a woman who was pretty close to the one Miles was talking about. The woman who had hurt Tom was inhumanly strong, tall, beautiful, with expressive eyes. Agent Fowler started towards the door. He didn't need to take up any more of Tom Goss' time. Tom had given them exactly what they wanted, but there was one thing nagging at Agent Fowler.

"Excuse me Mr. Goss. I forgot to ask. What color were the woman's eyes?"

The stress of what Tom had been through came back to him. "Brown", he replied.

"Any chance she had on contacts?", Agent Nixon asked.

"None. Those were her eyes, the realist things about her", Tom said.

"Thanks, Mr. Goss."

Agents Fowler and Nixon sighed. The woman who had injured this man wasn't the woman Agent Miles was looking for. Miles kept stressing that that this woman had blue eyes. This was a different woman, and the two Agents didn't know what to make of that news.

Jan Caufield was lying on her bed kicking her headboard while her deep blue eyes were focused on some new site called Youtube. She loved clicking on random videos. She had stumbled onto the site a couple of weeks earlier. It was still in beta mode, but shaping up. She wondered how big it would become. As she watched a skit by a comedy team, her cell phone rang. "Hello. Oh hey, Daddy." Jan rolled onto her back, forgetting about the website completely.

She smiled at her father's questions. "I'm fine. We're all fine, and no I'm not coming home just because some guy thinks he's a freedom fighter." It had been a few days since the attacks at the railyard and airport. News of the attack in Kansas had been all over the news the day before.

"I'm just worried about my little girl", Jack Caufield said from his office in a Washington DC suburb.

"I'm not so little, Dad, besides, can't you put some of that worrying father stuff off on Thomas now?"

"Thomas doesn't get into as much trouble as you do, Jan. He's a pretty easy going kid. You, on the other hand, always have something going on."

Jan laughed and extended her very long legs up towards the ceiling. "I expect that talk from my friends, Daddy, but you're supposed to be on my side."

It was Jack's turn to laugh. He leaned back in his big overstuffed office chair. "I am on your side Pumpkin, but you wouldn't want me to lie would you? I have to worry about you."

Jan's face turned serious for a moment. She looked off into the distance as she thought about things. She couldn't see, but her father had the same look on his face 700 miles away. "Dad, it hasn't all been easy since those attacks. People around here are a little nervous, but my main problem is the FBI agent I told you about a week ago."

"That same guy!", Jack exclaimed. "Did he bother you again?"

Jan knew that she probably shouldn't have brought it up. "Umm yeah, he wanted to question me the same night the attacks happened, just before the attack on the airport. It was kinda of stupid at first, but after a while it was no fun at all. I hope he doesn't talk to me again."

Jack leaned forward. "What's his name?"

"Oh come on Dad."

"Pumpkin, what's this agent's name?"

"Aaron Miles, he works out of the Atlanta Field Office", Jan informed her father with a sigh.

"We'll I'm going to give some people a piece of my mind. You just wait."

"Come on, Dad. I think I'm too old for you to have to fight my battles for me."

Jack sighed. "I'll always fight your battles. That's what a father's for. Besides, Pumpkin, you'll always be my little girl, no matter how old you get."

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Sara Hewitt looked at her watch before she opened the door to room 307. This was Nikki Washington's room, and she was going to try and talk to her today. Sara came in to change what needed to be changed, but while she worked with her hands, she opened her mind. Sara probed gently. She had no idea what damage was there, but Sara didn't have to probe too long.

"What's going on?", Nikki demanded in her own mind. Until this very minute she had only felt herself inside her head, but she knew that there was another person there.

"Wow, that was quick", Sara thought.

"Who are you!" Nikki began to panic. Maybe she was starting to go crazy after being in a coma. That was almost as scary as not being able to move was at first.

"You're not going crazy", Sara thought back. A big smile had spread across Sara's face.

"Who are you!", Nikki demanded again. Her thought was so strong that Sara had to pull herself out of her mind a little before Nikki pushed her out.

"Slow down, please", Sara thought once she pushed her way back into Nikki's mind. "I'm Sara Hewitt, and I'm a tech here at the facility."

"That's great", Nikki began, "but how are you talking to me. Why am I hearing you in my head?"

Sara explained about her telepathic abilities.

Nikki mentally sighed. "I am going crazy, but since I'm in a sci-fi movie I might as well go with it."

Sara laughed.

"What's so funny?", Nikki asked.

"You heard that!?!"

"Of course I heard it. I heard it when the doctor told my parents that I probably wouldn't wake up again. I heard when my brother started crying. I heard it when my parents introduced themselves to the nurse the other day."

"That was me", Sara thought. "Can you hear me?", Sara asked aloud.

"Yeah, you have an accent. At least you don't think with an accent."

Sara laughed again. "What if I were to tell you that I think I can wake you up."

Nikki's entire mood changed. "I'd say don't torture me with hope if you can't do it."

"Fair enough", Sara thought back. "Let's get started." Sara spent the rest of the afternoon in contact with Nikki. Even when she was working with her hands and body on other patients in other parts of the building, Sara's mind maintained contact with Nikki, and it wasn't even a challenge. Nikki's mind was powerful itself. She wasn't telepathic, but her thoughts were so strong that Sara didn't have to work at all to hear them. Sara hadn't had as satisfying a day at work since the first day she started working with her other nearly awake patient, Chuck, but in one days time Nikki made more progress than Chuck had in a month. Sara knew that this was going to be fun.

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"How are things looking?", Benny asked Jean, his second in command.

"Not bad so far. Things are working out as we thought." Jean was on a cell phone that he would toss in a fire as soon as this conversation was over.

"How are the girls?"

"Good so far. I'm looking after them." Jean and Benny had to be careful not to say anything that could be traced to their activities.

"Glad to hear it", Benny replied.

"How's your project coming?"

Benny smiled on his end of the line. "Going well. It should be ready on time."

"Good luck with it. I'll call again when I can." Jean hung up the phone and tossed it into the bucket of burning gasoline. He watched as the plastic bubbled and melted. The group had stopped in a small town to get some food at a truck stop. They were traveling as an indie band doing a tour. They had instruments and everything, although most of the Revolution men couldn't play a note. They were do in Texas, but not to make music or to have fun.

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The next day Agent Aaron Miles was having no fun at all. He was sitting at his desk trying to go over the data from the crime scenes at the airport and at the rail yard. There was a lot there, but Agent Miles was only one of many agents working the case. Things had been crazy in the office. He had been on the phone with agents all over the place trying to run down leads, but he was on a lead that none of the others had thought about. Everyone else guessed that the terrorists had used machines to do the damage to the rail bridges and to the big containers at the airport. There were four agents trying to track down dealers of machines that could have done that much damage, but Agent Miles knew better. Hands had done that damage. He would have said human hands, but he wasn't sure. He hadn't told anyone about his suspicions because they would have thought him crazy, but he wasn't. He knew that there was at least one person in the world strong enough to bend steel, and he knew that Jan Caufield knew something about it. She might even know about these attacks. There was more to her than she wanted people to see.

Agent Miles typed a few names into the computer. The early names were long shots. The first was of an ex-con named Malcolm Borman. He lived in the Atlanta area, but he was pretty much known to be a loudmouth with no power. The computer kicked back everything the FBI knew about Malcolm, and it was quite a bit. Unless this talker had some new backing, he couldn't have been responsible. Miles went through the names had been given, finding nothing new, but finally he put in the name that wasn't on his list, but this was the name that he had been waiting to put in.

He typed in Jan's name. It took a moment for the file to come up. Jan's file came up, and he saw her vital data: date and place of birth, etc., but he wanted more. He wanted to know all the information on her. He clicked the link. His screen went blank. He frowned and typed the name in again. The same thing happened. Never one to give up easily, the FBI agent typed in Jan's name again. This time his entire system locked down. He couldn't even turn his computer off. He was completely locked out. He picked up the phone and called the tech guys downstairs.

"Hey, this is Miles, and my computer is completely fried", he told the tech. He heard some keys being pushed.

"No, Agent Miles, your computer is working fine. Your login had been flagged and blocked."

Agent Miles sighed loudly. "Well unblock me."

"I can't. You're not blocked here locally. You've been locked out from Quanico itself. My manual says that you have to call up there yourself." The tech hung up, and Aaron Miles cursed under his breath. He got ready to call when his phone rang. It was the Special Agent in Charge, his boss.

Miles hopped up at once. It was bad to make the boss wait. He didn't know that it was going to be bad for him anyway. He knocked on the door. "You called, sir?"

"Come in."

Special Agent in Charge Nick MacCallum was a no nonsense son of a former New York City beat cop. He had a good relationship with his employees. They knew when they were on the up and up, and they also knew when they were in the doghouse. Aaron Miles would know where he stood in just a few seconds.

"Agent Miles you're a smart guy. You've got a great future with the Bureau."

Aaron smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Its true. You do, but this fascination you have with the Caufield girl has to stop."

The smile went away. "I don't understand."

SAC MacCallum's eyes took on a steely look. "I just got off the phone with Sam Waters, Deputy Director of the Bureau. He just chewed my ass out. He chewed me out because Howard Killen, the Director of the FBI, just chewed his ass out, after he got his ass chewed out by Senator Jim Benn. You know him; he's the head of the Senate Appropriations Committee, the group that sets the budget for the FBI, and ultimately pays your salary AND MINE! It seems that you have been harassing Jan Caufield. Her old man put in a call to Senator Benn yesterday, and told the Senior Senator from Pennsylvania what he thought about you and your questioning of his daughter."

"But sir, I have reason to believe that--"

"Shut up, Miles! You're a smart guy, but you're too bull headed for your own good. That girl isn't wanted. She's not the subject of any investigation. Her name doesn't show up on any tip sheet I have seen. The girl's a hero for God's sake! She's got civic medals. She's saved a mother and her child... TWICE! Do you know how that makes you look to be going after her? That girl has done more good in the last two months than you have in your entire career!"

"Sir, I did not mean to bring this down on you. I was simply trying to play a hunch."

Special Agent MacCallum stood up from behind his desk and put his palms down flat on top. "Hunches are important to any investigator. I can't tell you not to have hunches, but I can damn well tell you to ignore this one! You had better not go near that girl! Are we clear!"

"Yes, sir", a humbled Agent Miles replied. "I just want to ask, sir, how I can do my job if I have to pussy foot around somebody because their father's powerful and well connected?"

MacCallum's face heated up. "Agent Miles don't you blow smoke up my ass! I've been listening to bullshit from low-lives since J. Edgar Hoover still ran this outfit. Don't you try and bullshit me too! If you had one shred of evidence against that girl, I would have respectfully told the Deputy Direct to go shove it, but instead I had to get my ear bitten off because you don't have a damn thing!" He paused and gathered himself. "Get out of my office, Mr. Miles, and do your job!"

"Yes sir."

SAC MacCallum sighed after Miles left the room. Only then did he look off to his left. Special Agent Wills came from behind the door to the closet. "So, Harry, how did I do?", MacCallum asked his old friend. "I think I ripped into the boy pretty good."

Special Agent Wills took a seat and crossed his legs. "Yeah, you sure did that. He's hard headed, but I think he'll stay away from Jan from now on."

MacCallum took a deep breath and sat down. "He's stupid messing with that girl anyway. Hell, I thank God every time I think about it that Jan, Sara, and Alisha are on the good side."

"Yeah me too. I just hope that boy stays away."

Agent Miles went back to his desk. He was so mad that he was seeing red. He wasn't mad at being told to stay away from the Caufield girl. He was mad because his boss thought so little of him. For all the bluster that MacCallum had done, Miles saw it for what it was. He was hiding something. They were all hiding something, and he wanted to know what and why.

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While Agent Miles fumed, Alisha von Edder drove her gleaming black BMW 645ci down MLK Boulevard. The top was down, her hair was blowing in the breeze, and music blared from her speakers. An outsider would have thought that she would have been out of place in this part of Atlanta, but the local folks had gotten used to her. She had almost become a regular, since she was in the area so much. She shopped there, and even had her car washed there. She used to take it to a local BMW dealership to get washed, but she found out that a mobile wash guy down in the SwAT did a better job. Her car hadn't shined as much since she'd picked it up from the dealer back in California. She'd just had her car detailed. The outside shined like newly minted gold, and the inside smelled brand new. She stopped at a traffic light and tapped her fingers on the leather wrapped steering wheel waiting when an Impala pulled up next to her. She heard the boom of the bass before she actually saw the car pull next to her.

The two guys in the car leaned forward and looked out the window. Alisha smiled and kept her eyes forward. For Alisha, attention from guys never got old.

"Hey, shawty, where you headin?", the guy in the driver side called out. Alisha turned and lifted up her shades then turned back forward. The guys in the car looked at each other and laughed. "Shit you ain't gotta talk to me. You fine as hell!" The guys were laughing and hanging out the window now.

Alisha tried to look like she didn't hear them. "Hey, girl, can I go home with you! I wanna have yo baby! You too fine to be alone!"

Alisha laughed and turned towards them. She pursed her lips and blew them a kiss just as the light turned green. She hit the gas and sped off while the two guys in the car laughed about what had happened before heading to the market. She was still smiling as she pulled into the parking lot of the Mays Community Center.

She could see her students already in the room where she held her art classes. They had already set up their easels, which made her swell with pride. She had a great day planned for them. For the last couple of months, she had been teaching two art classes at the community center for disadvantaged youths from the neighborhood. Alisha wouldn't have thought that something as trivial could become so important to kids who had so much more to worry about, but they flocked to her art class. She tried not to think about it too deeply. They loved it, and she loved to teach it.

It was in the middle of the hour long class when Marquez came up to her. "Miss E, where you from? Tyisha thinks you're from Europe or someplace, but not me. She bet a dollar."

Alisha shook her head and looked down at the 9 year old boy and then over to Tyisha, who was 10. "I hate to spoil it, but I'm from Michigan, and I grew up in California." Alisha shrugged then went over to Tyisha and hugged the girl around her skinny shoulders. "Don't worry I'll pay the dollar." The girl smiled up at her.

"But doesn't your name mean something?", the Tyisha asked.

Before Alisha could answer a loud sigh came from a boy a couple of easels down. "I told you both already that 'von' is a germanic preposition. It means that Miss E's family is nobility."

"Man, Anquan you always talk crazy like that", Tyisha said.

Anquan adjusted his glasses and kept painting. "I'm right though. Her family is Hochadel"

"What are you talkin about?", Tyisha began and threw her hands up. "Now you're talkin all kinds of crazy. What does that word mean anyway?" The kids laughed.

"It means high nobility", Alisha answered. "How do know about that stuff, Anquan?" Alisha walked over to the area where he was paining a landscape from a picture taped to the side of his easel.

"Because Anquan's a nerd and always has been!"

"Shut up Tyisha! I am not!"

"Alright stop it both of you. There is nothing wrong with being a nerd. I'm a nerd. I just hide my nerdiness, so nobody knows." Alisha smiled at Anquan. "How do you know all that stuff? I know they don't teach it in school."

The little kid shrugged his shoulders. "I read a lot of history stuff. I know all about European history. I even know how your family got to be Dukes. Frederick von Edder fought in the Siege of Vienna, and how your family has castles--"

"Castles!", the kids repeated.

"Yeah, Miss E's family is nobility, and they have 3 castles, two castles in Austria and one in Southern Germany, but its just a museum now", Anquan informed his fellow students.

"Wow, Miss E! Is that true? Are you like royalty and all that?"

Alisha looked around at the faces of her young students. Their wide eyed attention showed her just how interested they were. It was strange. She hardly thought about being nobility. It was fun sometimes. It seemed un-American to her, but to these kids, it represented a different world completely.

"We do have castles back in Europe, well my aunts and uncles do", Alisha began hesitantly. She just didn't like sounding like she was more important than anyone else.

"And I'm not royalty really, not like you'd think", she continued. "I prefer to use Reichsgräfin, which means Countess of the Empire in German, but I would be allowed to use the title, Prinzessin if I wanted, since my father's technically Karl Josef II, Reichsfürst von Edder, Herzog zu Eddenburg. Which is a fancy way of saying: Prince Karl Joseph II of Edder, Duke in Eddenburg."

"Now that is tight as hell, Miss E's got it like that!" The group laughed, but Alisha frowned.

"Marquez watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry Miss E, but Dukes and Princes and stuff, and castles. I ain't never been outta Georgia 'cept to Alabama for my Grandmama's funeral", the little boy folded his arms and looked at the floor.

"Yeah, I've never even seen a castle 'cept on tv", another kid said.

"Well, I tell you all what. Schloss Eddenburg is in the hills of Austria overlooking the Danube right across from Slovakia. Its one of the most beautiful places around. I'll take all of you there, and to our Eichenbaum Palace in Vienna where my family keeps most of our art collection. My aunts, uncles, and cousins live there, and you guys will love it."

"You'll take us there for real?"

"Yep, I sure will. When you all graduate from high school. That summer I'll take all of you to Austria. So if you want to see all that stuff then you all better do good in school."

"We have to wait that long! You'll probably forget by then."

"No I won't. Just remember every time you take a test or do homework. When you graduate, you're going to spend all summer in a real castle and a real palace with real servants and really good food." That got the kids attention. They all talked about what they would do when they got there. Some of them even started talking with a fake English accent. Alisha got a chuckle out of that, but she took a step back and observed. She had grown up in a world where 500 years of family history was told and retold by her parents and relatives. It wasn't even that big a deal for her to be accepted to huge mansions in the US or to palaces in Europe. She had dined with the Queen of England, the King of Belgium, the King of Spain, and the royal families of Sweden and Denmark. As a matter of fact she was distantly related to all of them. Some of the students in her class didn't even know who their fathers were. These kids needed some exposure to the wider world, and they could get that in Atlanta. It was time for a field trip. She remembered reading about an exhibit coming to town. She had planned to go see it herself, but she was going to take all her students. She would turn it into a field trip. She'd have to get all the paper work ready, and get permission slips out to all the parents, but it was worth the effort. It wasn't every day that painting by masters like El Greco came to town. The kids would love it.

"Excuse me!", X-411 called out in her natural voice. She pulled a jacket over her head to protect herself from the pouring rain. It was a cool rain that allowed puffs of breath to be seen.

"What is it?", the security guard asked.

"My car broke down just down the road, and my phone is dead. I need to call my Mom." X-411 batted her lashes and looked up a the burly guard.

"I can't let you in, but stand right here." He turned his back to the cute chick at the door. He intended to grab the phone, but he wouldn't take another step. As soon as he turned, X-411's arm shot out. She didn't even bother to make a fist. The tips of her fingers struck the guard in the back of his neck. Her blow broke the man's neck and severed his spine. His body crumpled to the ground. He passed out from the pain, and he was dead in less than a minute.

Omar, the second in command of the Revolution ran inside the guardhouse to get out of the rain. "Not bad", he told X-411. He kissed her on her wet cheek. He rushed further inside with his weapon drawn. Two more men came in with him while X-411 moved the body of the guard out of sight. Omar and his men ran across the dock to the tug. They jumped onto the deck. A crewman came out to see who they were, but this young man died before he could say a word. A silenced pistol shot to the chest silenced him forever. The rest of the men ran through the tug and killed the two other crewman and the captain. It was done.

"The ship's ours", Omar boasted to his men. He looked around the deck quickly. X-411 was on the dock carrying a crate longer than she was tall. She cradled it in her thick arms, her biceps had cracked the wood nearest them. Omar looked at her strong legs as she walked towards the tug. He loved the separation in her quads when she stepped onto the deck. She leaned over and set the crate down without a problem. Two of Omar's men would have struggled to lift that crate.

"Welcome aboard our new tug! It's small, but powerful. Just like you." Omar laughed, but X-411 didn't. He just shook his head and got busy. He ran into the pilot house. "Single up the lines!", Omar ordered. The guys hurriedly started untying the vessel from the dock. Two men had gone down and started the powerful diesel.

"Hey, do me a favor", Omar called out from the pilot house. "Pull down that damn flag!"

"Gladly!" One of the guys yanked down Old Glory and tossed it in the channel just as Omar tickled the throttles and moved out into the open water. Once the tug was moving, Omar made a call. "We're moving."

Jean answered the phone. "We'll be ready on time."

Jean, three Femmes, and three Series 4's had sneaked their way onto the deck of a burned out hulk of a bulk freighter named the Riault. She had been moored in the same spot for over a year, waiting on some paperwork to clear before she could be sent to the breakers. The Revolution had other ideas for this old vessel.

Jean moved quietly along the deck of the ship. She was small for a cargo ship, but huge in real terms. He stood near the rails and looked at how she was tied off. There were six massive ropes keeping this ship attached to the dock, along with one anchor resting on the silty bottom of the Houston Ship Channel. Jean had already given orders to the super soldiers. Two were tasked getting the Riault untied while the other four were below making their way to the bottom of the vessel.

Jean ran behind the super soldiers until it came time to split up. X-424 and a series 4 ran towards the bow while X-417 and another Series 4 ran to the middle of the cargo hold. Jean continued to the rear. He threw open the hatch to the engine room, and turned on the small emergency generator that most ships had. The lights in the engineering compartment came on. Jean smiled and started checking the gauges. The ship had barely been touched since it had been towed to Houston a year earlier. Jean didn't know what had happened, but he did know that this ship had a very nice diesel engine. He primed it and made sure everything was set.

X-419, and a Series 4 worked at casting off the lines keeping the Riault tied. They were working very quickly and efficiently, and so was Jean. After a few minutes he readied the marine diesel for an emergency start. He pushed the button, and held it. The massive engine turned over once. He pushed the button again and the engine began to rumble and whine. Vibrations went from the bow to the stern as the Riault tried to come to life. On the third attempt, the engine fired. The die was cast now as the sound of a massive engine roaring to life couldn't be muffled. It wasn't as bad as sounding the horn, but almost. All the attention in the port was going to be on this ship very very soon. With the engine running perfectly, Jean ran forward. He had to get to the bridge. It would have been easier if there was one more person here to run the controls, but he only had super soldiers. While they did what they were told, they didn't have independent thoughts.

X-419 had thrown the last line overboard just as the engine started. With the diesel running, the electricity came on. The lights were on and the anchor wench motors were working too. It usually took some time to get a vessel of this size ready to move, but with super strong deck crewmen, things were moving quickly.

The commotion on the ship had already drawn attention. Two guys from a building on the dock couldn't believe what they were seeing and ran out in time to see the last line being thrown off.

"Hey, what the fuck are you---" The man was cut off by the pops of bullets hitting near them. The Series 4 pulled the trigger, but barely took time to aim. Killing the men on the dock was very low on his priority list. The men dove behind two coils of heavy rope as they heard the propeller of the Riault start to chop and churn the water behind it.

Jean spun the wheel to the starboard and eased the throttles forward. The ship started moving. He looked off the bow and saw a tug pulling in close. He went to the proper frequency on the radio and hailed the tug. "We're going to have to do this on the move", Jean told Omar.

"No problem", Omar began. "Toss down the lines."

X-419 coiled a rope and with a strong toss, threw it to the deck of the tug. The men on the tug began pulling. With X-411's help it went much faster. A thick braided tow rope was attached to the smaller rope. Omar moved the tug in close to the freighter. He deftly piloted the tug until the two hulls were touching. Jean looked out of the bridge of the Riault and admired Omar's work. He was a little too loud and jovial for Jean's tastes, but he was thorough, thoughtful, and tough. He would make a dangerous adversary, because outwardly he looked completely harmless.

"Get those lines tied right!", Omar yelled. "If we lose it, we won't get another chance!" His men worked furiously to do their work with the tug and the freighter both moving. The stresses were enormous, but X-411's powerful muscles helped keep everything manageable. Omar had to focus. Jean knew a little about boats, but nothing about ships. Omar had spent five years in the Navy and five more in the Coast Guard. There wasn't a vessel on earth he couldn't drive or a body of water he couldn't tackle.

"Its tied off!", one of the men yelled.

Omar nodded and got on the radio. "I'm putting on tension", he told Jean. Turn her hard over, and put her balls to the wall!" He could feel the engine of Riault as Jean pushed the throttles full open. Omar pushed the tugs powerful engines into full reverse. The tow line creaked and popped, but it held as the bow of the Riault swung north into the channel. More and more it swung. The bow had been pointing east towards the bay, now it was pointing almost due north towards downtown Houston, perpendicular to the channel. When the vessel was north, Jean turned the wheel and kept the throttle up on the engines. The movement for Omar was infinitely more difficult as he had to match the moves of Jean perfectly while keeping some tension on the tow line, but not too much.

The Houston Ship Channel had 2 lanes for large vessels and one for smaller port facility craft in the middle. The 498 foot long Riault was going to block it all. When the middle of the ship was in the middle of the channel, Jean reversed the engines to stop forward momentum and dropped both anchors. Omar turned his wheel to the starboard and kept his engine in full reverse, helping stop the momentum of the ship. As much fun as it would been to smash the bow of the Riault into the some of the port facilities, this would be more damaging. He eased off the engine and let the ship come to rest. "I'm going below", Jean said over their encrypted radio.

"We'll be waiting for you!"

Jean ran and slid down the ladders of the large vessel, going ever deeper. He was breathing heavily and his palms were slick with sweat, but he couldn't stop now. He was in a race against time and the harbor police. They were already on their way, of that he had no doubt, but Jean was always true to a mission. He came to the main cargo area and looked at the gaping hole on the side of this ship. He could see the marks of an explosion, but ships didn't sink from holes that let in air. He kept going. It wasn't long before he came to the ladder that lead to the deck below the cargo area, and he heard a sweet sound. The water rushing into the ship sounded like several water falls, but this water gushed in like fountains. Jean smiled as he jumped off the ladder into two feet of water.

He had ordered four of the soldiers to make holes in the hull to allow the water inside, and they must have done their jobs. Jean marveled at the technology that had created these Femmes. He could hear water rushing in from at least two different places. They had used heavy drill bits and big hammers to punch holes through the two inch thick steel hull before using their combined strength to tear larger holes in the hull. From the gushing water, Jean could guess that the hole here was at least four feet square. They had continued to pull and tear the holes even after the water had started rushing in. They had no fear. Sometimes Jean was struck by how impressive they were, especially the Femmes. He had seen the progression of the program from Series 1 up through Series 4, but after looking at the holes in the bottom of this ship, he wondered if there was anything in the world that could stand up to these Femmes.

Jean sloshed through the water heading towards the rear of the vessel. As he got closer, he heard the tell tale sounds of distress. There was no denying the sound. It was the sort of groaning and whining that normally would have caused Jean to run the other way, because this sound wasn't of a person in distress. It was the sound of the steel under strain.

He rushed his way into the very rear compartment of the ship where the prop shaft exited the hull of the vessel. This shaft was fourteen inches in diameter and polished to shine. It connected to the engine on one end and to the screw on the other, outside the hull. Jean knew enough about ships to know that the opening where the shaft entered the water was the most vulnerable parts of a ship and therefore the best engineered. There were all sorts of buffers and seals. The shaft seals of some sunken ships remained intact for decades after the ship was on the bottom, but these soldiers were attempting to defeat these seals. Jean instantly knew that this was a good idea. This would doom the ship for sure. He hadn't specifically ordered this action to be done because he wasn't sure if it was possible in the short amount of time they had. He wondered how these soldiers had set on this task.

"Pull here", X-424 ordered her fellow soldiers after they had loosened then removed the bolts that attached the shaft to the engine. The bolt plate at the end of the shaft was perfect as a handle for the soldiers to use. It was made to take and survive enormous stresses just like the one it was about to experience.

Jean looked on in awe as one Femme ordered all the rest of them. She told them how to hold the plate and how to stand. She gave quick orders that were easy to follow and left no room for interpretation. Jean knew better than to interrupt. He didn't have to make his presence known. He was sure X-424 knew that he was there. The five soldiers had grips on the shaft. They put their feet where the hull of the ship inclined as it ended in the stern. At her order, the soldiers pulled as one. Their bodies flexed to the max. Jean felt the steel distort and bend beneath his feet. His eyes fell onto the Femmes as their bodies strained to the utmost. Their muscles were bursting beneath their tight clothes as they applied every ounce of power against this hunk of steel. Harder and harder they pulled. The pressed with their legs, and none of them had legs as thick with muscle as X-417. The curves of her body were unreal, and when she used her super powered muscles, those curves were enhanced to super human proportions. She was only one of the super soldiers, but Jean could not take his eyes off of her.

Through all of this though, the shaft had not moved. The welded plates of steel that made up the hull were actually buckling. It was like a submarine that had dived too deep. Jean knew that they were still racing against the clock. Two holes were going to have to be enough.

"Stop", X-424 ordered them. "Now pull again", she ordered.

The super soldiers reset their grips and pulled again. Jean could have sworn that they were getting stronger and pulling harder and not slowing down. This pull broke things. Jean could hear the snaps and pings and cracks. He couldn't see what had broken, but he could feel it. The steel begin to wave. He looked around and saw X-424. She stood unmoving on the wavering deck as her fellow soldiers pulled with force that Jean could only guess. The shaft moved. It weighed over 100 tons, and it moved. Even with seals and buffers designed to keep it in place, these soldiers were moving it. It slid again. Jean had to cover his ears against the screeching, but the soldier kept pulling. X-424 ordered them to pull again. Then again, but as a testament to the builders of this vessel, not a drop of water had come through the opening.

Jean was engrossed in the show, when he heard the radio. "Where the hell are you?", Omar yelled.

"Finishing up the fifth phase."

"You're running out of time! I can hear the sirens. Better hurry!"

Omar ended the transmission quickly. Jean looked over at X-424, but he didn't have to say a word. She had heard too, but she seemed unconcerned. She kept her eyes focused on a point near the seal, but not at it. The soldiers tugged again, and the shaft moved again. After that last tug, she stepped closer to the other five, and issued some orders that Jean couldn't hear over the sounds of the rushing water. Then she looked at Jean. Her serious brown eyes appraising him quickly as she came near him. "You should stand over there" She pointed to the hatchway. Then she started out.

"Where are you going?", Jean asked.

"To finish."

"We are going to leave!", he yelled.

"I will be at the extraction point on schedule."

Jean turned to the other soldiers as X-424 ran down the corridor then disappeared through a hatch. The other soldiers looked straight ahead and waited. With nothing going on, Jean was about to order them out, when the shaft shuttered and the hull groaned. At that moment, the five super soldiers pulled hard, and a hum went through this area of the ship. Jean saw the cords and veins standing out on their skin as they pushed past their limits. He didn't know that the real show was going on under the ship.

X-424 had run through the flooded corridor after leaving the shaft compartment and found the first hole that they had put in the bottom of the ship. The water had been gushing with such force that it took a great deal of strength to force her sleek body out into the water. Once under the ship, she swam to the stern. After fighting the current, she made her way to the propeller. The screw of this ship was three stories of bronze. It dwarfed the Femme as she swam up to it. After some quick maneuvering, she had worked herself in the tight spot between the prop. She squeezed her body into place. Her back was against the propeller and her feet were against the hull. Her butt was on the shaft. She wished that she could have taken another breath, but she couldn't. Once she was set, X-424 bared her teeth, squeezed her hands into fists then pushed off with her legs as hard as she could. Small bubbles formed near her legs and the skin of her muscles turned solid red as her racing heart struggled to send enough blood to her overloaded muscles. Hard muscle surged and flexed beneath skin that was warm to the touch. The affect was immediate. The prop shaft was tapered slightly, and the five super soldiers had pushed the shaft to the limit that the hardened steel ring would allow, but the five of them didn't have the leverage to actually rupture that seal. With X-424 outside the hull, underwater, applying her steel bending force directly to the shaft and prop, the seal had no chance.

The hurculean strain showed on the faces of the Femmes, as they pushed their bodies. Beads of sweat formed on their faces, as they're muscles throbbed and bulged flexing harder and harder. Outside the hull, X-424 looked like she was trying to move a mountain. Her face was in agony, but her legs were still moving. Once the shaft had moved a small amount, she was able to put her hands on her knees. She gathered herself for one more push. She knew there wasn't time for another one. She screamed beneath the water and her body turned to solid stone as she emptied the last bit of strength from her body. The other super soldiers pulled at the same time, and it was enough.

It sounded like an explosion. Piece of steel shot in all directions as the shaft ring broke. When it cracked all the structural integrity of that section of the hull was compromised. Welds started to fail, and water came in. Water really came in. Two jets of water under extreme pressure forced their way inside. It hit the two Series 4's in the back so hard that it bruised their scientifically toughened skin. Jean felt like he had been stabbed in the arm when a redirected spray of water hit him. He backed away, but the soldiers gathered and pulled again. This time the shaft didn't barely move, it slid out more than a foot. The hull of the ship gave and welds failed and the shaft was now loose in the hole. Water gushed in. The Riault was destined to sink to the bottom and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

"All right! Everybody out!", Jean ordered. He turned and ran, the soldiers were right behind him. The water was waist deep in the rear of the ship, but as they came forward it was chest high. X-417 took Jean by his waist and pulled him along at the speed the rest of them were moving. She put him over her shoulder as they got to the ladder. Jean's 187 pounds didn't slow her at all. By the time Jean and the soldiers had reached the top deck, the Riault was listing to towards the bow. As soon as they got to the deck, X-417 put Jean's feet on the ground, and the radio started to crackle.

"We see you!", Omar yelled into the mic, having to scream over the raging thunderstorm. "The line is coming up!" X-411 stood near the bow with a weighted coiled rope. She threw high overhead to the deck of the Riault. X-419 caught it and tied it off. The other end was anchored to buoy sitting just to the side of the jet boat the Revolution men had stolen from a marina a few hours earlier. Each member of Jean's team pulled out their straps of leather, and put it over the rope. The soldiers' grips were so strong that they didn't worry about wrapping it around their hands, but Jean did. It only took a few seconds for all six of them to zip down to the deck of the boat.

"We're missing one!", Omar yelled.

Jean looked around. He could see flashing lights approaching them, and there might even be helicopters in the air. They had to leave now. "Where the fuck is she!"

Beneath the water, after the shaft had broken loose, X-424 had begun to swim from beneath the sinking ship when the screw had turned. The shaft was loose and the massive weight of the screw caused it all to shift, and X-424 was pinned against the steel of the hull as the ship continued down.

Her air was already running low because of her great exertion a few moments earlier. Her hands went to the huge blade of the prop, but even her mightiest shove couldn't move that much weight. Perhaps with help she could have moved it, but she was on her own. Femmes weren't supposed to have despair or hope, but this one did. She knew that she couldn't damage or move the prop, so she twisted her body so that she was facing the hull. She couldn't turn all the way round, but it was enough barely. She drew her fist back and punched the hull. Her fist hit hard enough to dent the steel. She punched it again and again until she could see the seam. Her body was nearly out of oxygen when she forced her fingers into the seam, and pulled back. Much like she had in Kansas, X-424 pealed this steel back towards her. Her biceps bulged and her shoulders rippled, but she was running out of time and strength. She started to feel a new emotion deep within herself, panic.

"What the fuck!", Jean yelled.

"We can't stay here!", one of the Revolution men yelled over the storm and the roar of the powerful engine.

"I can't leave her!", Jean yelled back. He stepped up to the side of the boat and was prepared to jump in when he saw her head and shoulders break the surface like a dolphin. She took a deep whooshing breath, bringing life back to her body, but her strength was gone.

"There!", Omar yelled and threw a line into the water. X-424 grabbed it, and the two Series 4's pulled her in. Half her body was still over the side when Omar pushed the pedal to the floor, and the boat took off. They still had room to escape. They went away from Houston towards the bay and finally to the east shore. Once there, they hopped into stolen van and car leaving chaos and a burning jet boat in their wake.

Jean was sore and tired. He had run some piping hot bath water and lowered himself into it. From the outside, this motel had looked rundown, but at least the bathrooms were clean and the towels were pretty soft. Jean had leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His body hurt in places that hadn't hurt in years. He started to fade to sleep when he was brought back.

"Your beer", X-424's flat voice told him.

Jean opened his eyes and took the cold can of Molson from her hand. He opened it and drank some quickly. "Have a seat, if you would." He motioned towards the toilet. X-424 closed the lid and sat down. Femmes didn't feel pain, but X-424's body was not fully recovered from her work in the ship channel.

"Why did you work so hard to get that shaft out of the ship?", Jean asked. This was a big reason why he wanted X-424 in his room.

"The other holes could have been patched in a short time by a good repair team, and they could have floated the ship quickly, but with the shaft still in the hole and the seals destroyed, they won't be able to patch that hole very quickly. It guarantees a successful mission.

Jean thought about asking her how she ordered the other soldiers around, but he decided to let the entire subject drop.

"You drink beer?", Jean asked.

"If you want."

Jean smiled. "In that case, please have one." X-424 pulled a can from the plastic six-pack ring, opened it and took a drink. "Can you get drunk?", Jean asked with a chuckle.

X-424 took another drink before answering. "If I consumed too much, my motor skills and reasoning would be impaired for a short time. There are chemicals that are administered to curb and counteract the affects of drugs and alcohol", she answered flatly.

"Figures." Jean downed that can, and held his hand out for another. X-424 gave him one. "You guys are amazing, but those voices ruin the whole thing. How does Benny get you to talk like a regular person sometimes?", Jean asked.

"He orders me to", she replied.

"Well talk like you would if you were a regular person with regular emotions, please." Jean couldn't take anymore of that robot tone.

"Is this better?", X-424 asked.

Jean leaned forward in the tub because he wasn't sure if it was better or not. He had expected some emotion, but instead he had gotten a lot. Her question had almost been condescending.

"Do you not like me? I never hear you talk to Benny like that."

X-424 leaned back causing Jean to frown. He hadn't ordered her to relax like that. It was too natural. "I don't like or dislike anything. That was taken away from me, and Benny tries to make me like him even if I no longer have the ability to do so."

Jean put the beer down, and sat up in the tub. He had never heard a Femme talk like this. "How much of your situation are you aware of? Do you actually think?" A truly thinking Femme was a scary idea. Ironclad control of the Femmes had to be maintained all the times.

"I'm only as aware as my programing will allow."

Jean sighed. "That's good news."

X-424 raised an eyebrow. "Good for who? You or me?"

.... to be continued....

Recent Chapters:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3       Chapter 4      Chapter  5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9      Chapter 10

There are plenty of others where this story came from.  Please check out the bookshelf for all the past chapters of Power and Fury and my other series.

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