John Clancy stood patiently as he was frisked while his credentials were being run through the computer. Next to him was a platoon of serious looking soldiers and security officers. He wasn't sure what to expect, but the clandestine nature of the meeting did pique his curiosity. It was like something out from his past when he was dodging the best the Soviets...oops, Russians he corrected had to offer. He briefly wondered what could be so secret in his own country that would allow them to violate the Company charter to conduct domestic operations, and then dismissed it. It wouldn't be the first time he had to poach the FBI's swimming pool and certainly wouldn't be the last. "You're cleared Captain Clancy," the security officer said as he handed John his authorization card back to him. "Go ahead and head to the office at the end of the hall. They've already started." John headed down the hall, taking the opportunity to look around. The Farm was unlike any government facility he had ever worked in. From the outside, it looked like a real farm, with real horses and hayfields. A trained eye however could pick out the carefully hidden security huts that surrounded the grounds, along with the small motor pool of black suburbans that didn't quite fit in a rural environment. "Come in Captain," a voice pleasantly ordered as John opened the door. Inside, there was another female military officer seated across from the desk. "Captain Clancy reporting as ordered," John recited. One never knew the temperament or sense of decorum a future commanding officer had. Raintree stood up and shook John Clancy's hand. "Please, take a seat" he offered. "Something to drink?" John Clancy shook his head; he knew when someone was trying for a "charm-offensive" and he wanted to evaluate any assignment on a clear head. "It's been a long trip Mr. Raintree." "Yes of course." Raintree opened a folder and slid a copy to John, who noted that the female officer already had a copy. "We need you and Captain Rogers for a very special long-term assignment. You both have extensive experience working on undercover assignments, which is why you're both here." That both were single without immediate family was carefully not mentioned. Captain Mary Ellen Rogers spoke up first, having the benefit of a head start reading the file. "So you need us to go deep cover as a married couple? And raise this little girl?" "Exactly," Raintree smiled. "What's the catch?" Mary asked coldly. She was enough of a pro to know that no government agency was going to pay highly trained covert agents to baby sit a child without a major catch. She wanted to know what she was in for before she stuck her neck out that far. "The child recently lost her parents," Raintree said as he shook his head sadly. His demeanor changed to stone cold almost instantly. "And trust me when I say that the less you know, the safer things are for the both of you." John flipped through the folder. "What's this about keeping her dosed on this drug? What kind of drug?" "You don't need to know. Suffice to say, you will be provided all the supply you could possibly need to keep the child properly medicated." Mary looked highly skeptical. Although compartmentalization was the norm for these kinds of operations, the more she heard about this assignment, she less she liked. "How long is this assignment supposed to go? I mean, I have a life, and I'm sure Captain Clancy has one too." "You won't be doing this alone," Raintree assured. "There's going to be an entire division of personnel assigned to back you up. While the girl is at school, she's going to be watched at all times by surveillance, so you will have some downtime." John continued to look at the briefing, barely concealing his astonishment. A whole division? Almost 2000 personnel? A team of surveillance agents, medical personnel, psy-ops specialists? An entire tactical assault battalion? All to watch one baby? Had the whole world gone mad? Who or what the hell were they supposed to be guarding? If this baby was really that dangerous, then why not just eliminate her and be done with it? "How long do we have to decide on this assignment?" Raintree smiled coldly. "If you don't feel you're capable of accomplishing this mission, then I'll be very ...disappointed. But if that is the case, then yes, let me know by the end of today." He stood up and headed towards the door. "I like to consider myself a good judge of personnel. I picked the two of you because I believe that you have the best chance to accomplish this very important and vital mission. As you can see from the mission profile, this is no small matter. Our commitment to this project is very real and the consequences of this mission could very well decide the fate of the country for generations to come." He opened the door and stepped outside, leaving John and Mary alone. After the door closed, John looked at Mary and sighed. On the surface, it seemed like an easy assignment, except for the unspoken 800 lb gorilla of this mystery baby. The truth about the baby, he was sure he would eventually find out, but by then, he'd be committed. Furthermore, the time commitment was going to be a huge burden. He had hoped to come out of the field someday to start a family, but he would have preferred to start a real one. Mary returned John's expression with a look of guarded concern. A career built on successful undercover operations against the meanest drug dealers on some of the nastiest undercover sting operations was now going to be co-opted. So she could now spend the next few years babysitting someone else's little girl. Except she knew better. "So...." John began, trying to break the ice. "I guess we're going to be spending a lot time together." "I suppose so...darling..." Mary replied sarcastically. She would have to rehearse on her emotional responses, she knew. Better work the sass out while she still could. "I just have one gripe... why are we using your family name?" John smiled for the first time. Thank God for tradition. The sky was beginning to turn from black to the shade of dark orange of the coming dawn. Traffic was almost nonexistent going through the subdivision's school zones though there were a few early risers trying to beat rush hour. Angelina huddled in the back of a sedan as it slowly pulled into the subdivision. In front, a man calmly drove the car through the rows of houses. In her mind, Angelina could feel the steering wheel in his hands, see the streets from his eyes as they drove past familiar houses, and her will guiding the man's thoughts to do her bidding. Like a puppet, she realized. The thought of what she was doing was frightening. How am I doing this? Her head was also filled with strange mixture of sensations. The fog from the drugs was mostly faded. The voices and images were stronger than ever, but they were all covered by an overwhelming soothing euphoria that seemed to fill her whole body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before and it terrified her. "Turn right here," Angelina ordered as she felt her puppet obey her will. Good God, what am I becoming? "OK, stop here." She stumbled out of the car and realized that she was exhausted from an entire night without sleep. She took a few steps, but then realized that the driver was just sitting in his car. "Um... you can go now?" she urged tentatively, and then breathed a sigh of relief when he carefully drove off. With any luck, the man wouldn't remember anything about his little detour. It had been a long grueling night for her. After escaping the soldiers' ambush downtown, Angelina had wandered through the city looking for help. There had been a few close brushes with military patrols but she managed to nudge them away by pushing things into their minds. Like Obi-wan Kenobi she told herself; Mike would have loved to see that. She finally reached the end of the block and stood in front of her house. Ethan Taylor seemed to believe that the soldiers were after her, which meant that there was a bigger conspiracy at play. Anxiety was nibbling at her heart; how deep did it go? Were her parents involved? She and her parents hadn't gotten along the last few years, but she really didn't want to believe that they actually meant to harm her. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the only home she had ever known. Hopefully the answers would clear things up and she could go back to her regular life and put this freakish episode of head-games behind her. Gruber watched the suburbans pull into the compound as the sky slowly began to turn to dawn. According to the tactical team's report, things had gone badly. Worse of all, they had lost F67, and the clock was ticking. "Coming through, make a hole!" the medical personnel ordered as they rolled stretchers out to the waiting suburbans. One by one, they unloaded several of the soldiers as the field commander gave his report. "What's the status?" Raintree asked as he watched Gruber look them over. Gruber examined the first pair of paralyzed soldiers as they were lifted onto the stretchers. "Deep trance from their symptoms. We saw a small handful of these back on the original Project, Lot six from the ESPer group." "Offensive telepathic assault group," Raintree said from memory. Gruber nodded. "Unfortunately, I don't think we've seen a trance this deep. Waking them up is going to be tricky, assuming we don't get F67's willing assistance." "What about the rest of the team Major?" Raintree asked the field commander. Major Robert Nichols shook his head. "We couldn't touch her with any of our weaponry; bullets, darts, nothing. Not even gas. Worst of all, when we swept the area, we found this." He handed Raintree a small purse. Gruber looked at the purse and blanched. "Is that what I think it is?" Raintree reached into the purse and carefully pulled out a bottle of pills marked 'Insulin'. "I'm afraid so. What does this mean, medically speaking, Dr. Gruber?" "When was her last known dose?" Gruber asked. "According to those street punks we interrogated, they saw Subject F67 at the club take a pill around 9:30 that evening," Nichols reported. "We assaulted the warehouse approximately 12:45am." "Then she should have still been approximately 97% suppressed," Gruber replied. "If that was 3%, then we're screwed. It's going to take a lot more than just another SWAT team with conventional rifles to bring her in." Raintree looked at his watch. "It's almost 5. What would be her level of suppression now?" "If she had been sleeping, then the drug would have held mostly around that level for at least that long. But if she's been exerting herself, or worse, actually using her powers, then we can expect the drug levels in her body to degrade at an inverse geometric curve over time. In 12 hours, probably 95%. 24 hours, 89%. After that, it gets hard to predict. For what it's worth, she probably has no actual experience using those powers." "If she's throwing main battle tanks around like Matchbox cars, then she doesn't need experience Doctor," Nichols replied sharply. "Time is of the essence," Raintree agreed. "Sir, you'd better come see this," a surveillance agent reported. The group of men walked into the building where the agent came from. Inside, a bank of monitors and computers were alive with activity. "My...my..." Raintree mused as he watched the monitors. "How old is this picture?" The agent shook his head. "This picture is live. She's at the house." Raintree nodded. "Get the Clancys over there now. We'll try it the easy way and see if we can't nip this one in the bud." The house was small and frugal in furnishings. Looking at the decor with a different mindset, Angelina was struck by the lack of any sentimentality in the house. It never occurred to her while she was hazy from her drugs, but her home didn't feel like a home at all; there were no pictures on the walls, virtually no unnecessary decorations of any kind. By contrast, Madelyn's house was filled with pictures of every family outing they had ever taken, a modest display of Madelyn's musical awards, Mr. Packard's souvenirs from his career as a Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer, and some of Mrs. Packard's macramé on the dinner table. Ironically, there were more pictures of Angelina at the Packard's house than her own home. Angelina tried looking around at the surroundings, but her mind was burning with unfamiliar sensations. Where's my coffee she heard and shook her head. That sounded like Mr. Robinson, her next-door neighbor. Across the street, she felt Mrs. Smith's hurried let's go, let's go directed to her three kids. She had always thought she heard whispers, but having been off her pills all night, the voices were unmistakable and loud. All around her, her neighbors were all getting up out of bed and their mundane preparations for the day were echoing painfully through her head. All except for Mr. Summers down the street, who was still dreaming of line-dancing unicorns and cigar smoking green-skinned aliens. Angelina put her fingers to her temples as her head was pounding painfully from the conflicting thoughts and emotions. The euphoria she felt earlier when she was controlling her unwilling chauffeur had faded. It felt similar to how she felt last night at the nightclub, but clearer and louder than before. But just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, two familiar voices cut through the mental static. "I've got the pills. Are we ready for this?" John Clancy's voice asked. A silent nod then "Let's get in character." Mary Clancy replied. Angelina shook her head in denial. She tried to search for any emotional signature with the voices she had known as her parents all her life. Even Mr. Robinson grumbled with discontentment as he drank his instant-brewed coffee. The only emotions she felt from her parents was... resolve. To do what? Make her take her pills? Even after all that had happened, that was their sole matter of concern? The front door to the house opened and John and Mary stepped inside. "Angelina, where have you been?" Mary demanded. "Young lady, we've been all over town all night looking for you!" John added harshly. "We even had to call the police, we were so worried!" Angelina shook her head as she dropped to her knees. The contradictory thoughts and images were assaulting her mind; she could clearly see her parents being briefed by soldiers. She could hear them talking to an older man about a new form of medication that would ensure obedience by addiction. She could smell the cigarette smoke from the sinister-looking man who oversaw the whole organization. "You're sick Angelina," John said, with a show of concern that would have sounded reassuring, had his thoughts about doing his real job not betrayed him. "We just came from the doctors and they say this will take the pain away." "N-no.... I don't want them...!" Angelina said between gasps. As she struggled, the dishes, furniture, and other objects began to rattle. "They're for your own good, dear!" Mary implored. "You're lying...!" Angelina said. "I can see..." "No, it's all in your head Angelina! You're having paranoid delusions from your sickness!" John interrupted. "Just take your medicine and everything will be alright!" "No!" Angelina cried. The objects in the room began to come to life, as the house windows started to shatter one by one. John suddenly flew back and was slammed and pinned against the brick fireplace. Mary screamed and struggled against the hurricane of flying objects. "S-Stop...!" Mary beseeched. "Angelina stop! You'll kill him!" Angelina cringed as she could feel the blow against John's head. She hadn't meant to do anything but her confusion and pain was feeding the energy that was surging through her head. She could feel every single particle in the room moving in her mind. Trying to hold it back was like wrestling an avalanche. "Stop please!" Mary begged. "I'll tell you everything!" Get control...get control... Angelina told herself. As she tried to get her thoughts in order, the room began to calm back down and John slumped back down to the floor. Mary ran over to John and looked him over. He probably had a concussion, but would be OK. She and Angelina looked at each other; both could feel the immediate change. A lifetime of family relationship, shaky though it was, vanished in an instant. Mary shook her head in fear and shame. She had once maintained cover when faced with three armed, angry drug dealers pointing guns at her when suspicions were raised, and here she was groveling for her own life from her own "daughter". "Y-you're right... we're not your parents..." Mary said, as she looked away, unable to meet Angelina's tearful gaze. "...and you don't have diabetes." "Who are those...other people...?" Angelina asked with a whisper. "I...I don't know the official designation. We were encouraged not to ask questions. Our orders were to raise you and maintain your medication levels. We were supposed to keep you under control until you were ready to be brought into the Project." "All those doctors...shrinks...councilors...?" Angelina tearfully asked. Mary nodded with exhaustion. "They're all in on it. Some of your teachers and our neighbors too." Angelina looked at Mary with grief and shook her head in denial. "How much...how much of it was real...?" "I'm sorry Angelina," Mary said with a husky whisper of resignation. "Your whole life is just a sham." "Shit...!" The surveillance agent hit an alarm. "What is it? What's going on?" Nichols asked as he rushed over to the monitor banks. "They're losing it sir!" the agent reported as he shook his head. Nichols watched the scene on the cameras with mounting tension. Poor bastards he thought. They never stood a chance. "Immediate scramble, Alpha team! Assemble for rapid strike and rescue!" "Belay that order, Major," Raintree ordered. Nichols bristled. "Our covert agents need extraction!" "You just said earlier that F67 held off two platoons a few hours ago. How well do you think we'll do sending in a single strike platoon now? Besides, we can’t conduct an overt strike in a residential neighborhood without compromising the Project’s security." Nichols bit his lip at his instinctive response. Standing by while his men were in danger went against everything he trained for, even though he couldn't disagree with Raintree's logic. Raintree read Nichols disapproval and continued. "When we go in, we'll have better weaponry to handle the situation. Until then... I think I see an opportunity here." He watched the monitors, which observed Angelina fleeing the house as Mary picked herself up and waited for reinforcements. He nodded. "Send in a clean up crew." He then added with a sotto voce. "There's always clean up to do..." The old Nissan hatchback drove along the highway, doing its best to get to the main highway. Inside, Michael was driving with a mixed expression on his face as he navigated his way through the morning rush hour traffic. "Sorry for dragging you out here like this Mike," Madelyn said. "I just didn't know who else to turn to." "Hey, de nada," Michael shrugged. "I was wondering where she wandered off to last night. How the heck did she get all the way out here though?" "That's just it, she wouldn't say," Madelyn said with a worried expression. "She sounded crazy; she kept saying that she couldn't say anything on the open phone line." "Why? Is she in some kind of trouble?" Michael asked. "I don't know. Maybe she was kidnapped or something?" "Maybe she had a bad reaction to her medication? You said that stuff makes her foggy." Ahead of them, Madelyn pointed to a truck stop gas station/coffee shop combo store. There were several 18-wheelers parked in the open gravel parking lot, along with a dozen smaller cars filling gas and picking up supplies. Michael parked his car and the two of them got out and headed to the coffee shop entrance. Inside, the dining area was a third full, with the sounds and smells of breakfast being prepared. Above the cash register, a television was tuned to the morning news and traffic reports. Madelyn spotted Angelina almost immediately at one of the booths. She was wearing the same clothes from the previous night, but her hair and clothes were disheveled. Her face was streaked with dried tears and her eyes were sunken and bloodshot. "Angie?" Madelyn sat next to Angelina and nudged her on the shoulder. "What happened? You look like hell." Angelina slowly looked up with a fearful expression as Michael slid into the opposite seat in the booth. She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut as her shoulders slumped with relief. "You're not a part of it," she whispered. "A part of what?" Michael asked. "It's them," Angelina said fearfully. "They're coming after me!" "Who?" Madelyn asked. Angelina opened her eyes and her expression became almost calm and stern. "The people who called themselves my parents." "What happened? Did your folks freak out or something?" Angelina shook her head and her eyes began to tear up. "Everything I ever knew about them...was a lie. They weren't my real parents. They were government agents. They were assigned to keep me under control, while trying to indoctrinate me to some kind of military program." Michael and Madelyn looked at Angelina and each other. They did their best to hide their skepticism, but the doubts were loud as every other thought from every other customer were. "Why would the government be after you?" Michael asked with a measured voice. Angelina shook her head fearfully. The last thing she wanted was another calamity. "I... know things. I can do things..." "Angie, we need to get you to a doctor," Madelyn pleaded. "Maddie, I know I sound crazy," Angelina said. She looked at Madelyn and tilted her head slightly. "I also know you're planning a surprise for your Mom this Saturday. Your Dad and you were at the Randall's grocery store three days ago. The two of you agreed on a half-sheet white cake with vanilla frosting and blue lettering. Your dad told you that he was going to have the party early so your mom wouldn't see it coming." Madelyn blinked. "Um... well, I mean, you were at Mom's birthday party last year. You probably heard us talking about it." Angelina continued, "Your dad said, 'let's skip the macramé kit this year and get her something really special'. He told you he was going to replace the bathtub in your master bath and asked you to pick the design. You told him that mom always liked brown and yellow because it reminded her of sunflowers back in Kansas where she grew up." Madelyn stared speechless for a moment. "How did you...?" Michael interrupted, "Wait a minute... you're trying to say you can read her mind? That's kind of hard to buy." Angelina looked at Michael. "Think of something Mike. Something complicated that I wouldn't know." Michael looked skeptical, then amused. He looked up, and then looked back at Angelina. "OK, shoot." "The chemical behavior of atoms is due to the interaction between the electrons. The configurations are determined by the quantum mechanics of electrons in the electric potential of the atoms. The higher the energy level of a shell, the further away it is from the nucleus. The electrons in the outermost shell are called the valence electrons and have the greatest influence on chemical behavior." Michael shook his head. "No... no way. You read my textbook or something." "You're carrying six textbooks," Angelina protested. "You think that, without touching your backpack, I speed-read all of them and picked the right topic you were thinking from them?" Michael tried to come up with another explanation, but struggled. Madelyn looked at Angelina with disbelief. "H-how long have you been able to do this...?" Just then, a tinny rendition of the "Darth Vader theme" chimed. Michael looked around in confusion, but Madelyn indicated Angelina's phone. "That's her parents' ring tone." Seeing Angelina's paralysis, Madelyn picked up the phone and answered. "Hello?" "Hello young lady..." The voice on the other end was unfamiliar to Madelyn. It sounded cultured, warm, and almost grandfatherly. But hidden under the warmth was a sinister undertone. "I wonder if I might speak with Angelina." Madelyn handed the phone to Angelina's trembling hand. Angelina whispered, "Hello?" "Well Angelina," Raintree said. "I'd say this puts you way past your curfew, wouldn't you?" "Who is this?" "Believe it or not, someone who has your best interests at heart. I've been with you your entire life. I've watched you grow up from an awkward child to the beautiful young woman you are today. You could say I've been your guardian angel." "What are you, some kind of pedophile?" Angelina asked with a shocked expression. "Tsk... now, now, name calling doesn't reflect well on you. Didn't your parents..." Raintree chided with just a hint of deliberate irony, "...teach you better?" "I am hanging up now," Angelina said with a shaky tone. "Oh wait, please... you'll miss the best part... Tell me; are you near a television or radio? You see, we're coming up on the bottom of the hour. Wait for it..." Angelina's eyes drifted almost involuntarily at the television mounted above the coffee store cash register. Madelyn and Michael looked up as well right as the television program abruptly changed. "We interrupt this morning's newscast to bring you breaking news. Police are reporting that has apparently been a double-homicide in the sleepy subdivision of Farmers Village. According to eyewitnesses, there were signs of a disturbance in the house of John and Mary Clancy. When police arrived to investigate, they found both of them dead in the house in apparent foul-play." The television picture panned across the house, showing the chaos and damage that Angelina had left behind not long ago. She began to tremble as the television then flashed her face on the main picture. "Police are looking for Angelina Clancy, who they believe may have been involved with the homicides..." Madelyn gasped as both she and Michael looked at Angelina in disbelief. "Th-this is a mistake...! I didn't do anything...!" Angelina whispered. "Yes, of course it's a mistake," Raintree said soothingly. "And I'm sure that once you come in, we can clear up this awful misunderstanding." "You...you killed them...!" Angelina gasped between tears. Almost unnoticed, the silverware and condiments on the table began to vibrate and rattle. "Oh come now... considering how badly they treated you, I would think that you would welcome their end." "No..." Angelina shook her head. "I would never want that...!" As Angelina spoke, Madelyn watched in frozen fascination as the glass condiment bottles cracked and began leaking. Silverware began melting on the table as the television lost its signal and began displaying static. Michael tensed up as he looked around and saw similar incidents beginning to start on the other tables. "Of course you did," Raintree corrected. "The truth is, they had fulfilled their assignment anyway. All that has changed is simply an acceleration of a timetable we devised years ago when you were first born. From that moment, we knew that you would one day become our finest creation." Angelina shook her head as Raintree continued. "I've been following your journey tonight, and I have to say, I'm most impressed with what I've seen. You've far surpassed what even our most optimistic projections would have indicated. It is time to come in." Angelina clenched her eyes shut as tears forced their way out. She shook her head in denial. Suddenly, the windows to the coffee shop started to crack and then shatter one by one. Panic ensued among the customers and staff as bottles, mugs, plates, and cookware began exploding. Michael flinched as Madelyn held Angelina by her shoulders. "Angie, stop it!" Madelyn whispered frantically. "Come on," Michael extolled as he grabbed Madelyn and Angelina and hustled them to the exit. As they managed to get out along with the rest of the customers, the coffee shop windows blew outwards with explosive force. "Holy shit...!" Michael breathed, and then stared at Angelina as she cried in Madelyn's arms. He looked around and saw that police cars were already visible in the distance. "We better get her out of here." "Where can we go?" Madelyn asked. "If these government guys are after her, then they'll find her if we take her back to school." "Angie, first, lose the cell phone. If the government's really after you, they can DF off that," Michael said, and then pointed up the road. "There's a bus stop about half-a-mile up the road from here. If you can make it up to there, the bus will take you north on the highway out of town. Peter's dad has a hunting cabin that's way out in the woods about 50 miles from here." He paused, and then continued. "If you really can read minds, then you know where it is." Angelina wiped her face and nodded. As she regained her composure, the chaos from the coffee shop wreckage began to die down. Madelyn gave Angelina a hug. "We've got to go. If we don't show up in school, they'll be looking for us. We'll come get you tonight, I promise." Gruber looked over the body with the eye of a professional. He had examined numerous bodies back when the Project was in its initial phase of developing the treatments, and there were many times he had to look into why a patient failed to adapt to the program. In the course of this research, he had to remove several failed brains from their skulls. This was the first time though that brain-removal had already been handled for him. "What do you have there doctor?" one of the research technicians asked. "The tactical teams found one Mr. Ethan Taylor at the warehouse," Gruber said as he adjusted a forensics microscope. "Apparently he was the warehouse owner. The assault team said that he was the person found with Subject F67. He was found under a panel in the floor, leading to a tunnel in the sewers." The technician looked at the body with a mild smirk. "Looks like he didn't make it." "So it would seem..." Gruber said with uncertainty. Although he didn't say so, nagging doubts plagued him. The logical assumption was that someone else had found the body first. The cut around the skull indicated the use of a cranial saw. But why would someone go through the trouble of removing the man's brain? The equipment they found at the warehouse was all advanced medical gear. His blood showed signs of a highly oxidized compound that defied quick analysis. Was he a mutant or another research project? "We know you know something Miss Packard," the policeman said. Madelyn looked at the principal and policeman with a blank expression. She didn't want to give anything away, and all those evenings watching TV cop shows taught her that trying to lie to investigators usually ended up giving away vital clues. The principal crossed his arms. "Madelyn, you and Angelina have been friends since you were six. No one spends more time together than you two. Now, if you know something about what happened last night, you'd better tell us." "There is no way Angie could have anything to do with Mr. and Mrs. Clancy's death," Madelyn said flatly. "She very well might not have," the policeman conceded. "But right now, we have some serious questions that need to be answered. You're not helping your friend's case holding out on us." "I told you we were partying last night. We dropped her off at her house sometime after midnight and that's the last time I saw her." There was a long moment of silence as the policeman jotted down a few notes. The principal looked sternly at Madelyn. "I'm very disappointed in you young lady. Go to the detention office after school." "I have some place I have to be after school," Madelyn said with a hint of concern. "How long you spend there is up to you. Dismissed." Madelyn walked slowly back to her class. She had planned to go to meet Michael after school so the two of them could make a grocery run to the cabin outside of town, but now that plan was shot. There's no way her parents would let her go on a road trip when they found out she was on detention. What made matters worse was that Angelina would be stuck up in that log cabin all by herself for at least another day. Michael told her earlier that morning that the cabin didn't have utilities turned on or food because it wasn't hunting season yet. The nights were cold this time of year. She really hoped that Angelina would be OK for another night. "She's hiding something, I'm certain of it," the surveillance agent reported on his cell phone while talking at a private office. "According to the principal, the other students all say Madelyn Packard is the closest friend F67 has. If anyone knows where F67 went, she would. I want 24 hours surveillance put on Miss Packard. If she so much as burps, I want to know what she had for lunch that day." The cabin was every bit as rustic as Michael's memories suggested, with minimal facilities built in. Evidently Peter's dad was a fan of "roughing-it" and to make matters worse, the power and water hookups were currently inactive. There were a number of mounted animal heads on the walls; so they really did hunt here. She had managed to make it to the cabin by mid-morning, where she promptly collapsed onto the living room couch and passed out from exhaustion. By the time she woke up, it was dark. She shivered from the cold and fear. The bus ride had been a mixture of tension and discovery. A few people had recognized her from the television pictures, but a mental suggestion had persuaded them not to remember her. After getting off at the bus stop in the one-intersection town, she had compelled a passerby to drive her rest of the way to the cabin. Each time she did it, it was getting easier and more seductive. It was like a siren song in her head, and it was getting harder to resist the urge to toy with people's minds. She drew back in fear; the very thought of becoming such a monster terrified her. The first thing that struck her as she got up was the emptiness and clarity of her mind. For the first time she could recall, she wasn't hearing voices, or feeling the foggy side effects of her drugs. The second thing she noticed was her hygiene; she desperately needed a bath and her clothes were filthy. Finally, her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day. God I'm starving... she realized. She stared at the sparse furnishings on the coffee table in front of her. What I wouldn't give for a... As she completed her thought, she froze as an ashtray on the table began to shimmer and morph. Before she could complete the thought, the transformation was complete. What was once an ashtray was now a deli-ham and cheese sandwich. Angelina stared at it in disbelief for an instant before shaking her head in a mixture of tears and giggles. OK, it's official...I'm losing my mind...this is all just a bad dream... She opened her eyes gingerly a few seconds later and still saw the sandwich. Despite her doubts, her stomach didn't care, so she reached for the sandwich. Suddenly, the sandwich exploded with a loud pop as she flinched in surprise. What the heck... she wondered. She felt a faint tingling deep in her head during the transformation and subsequent detonation, which hinted that she was responsible for both. She cleaned the bits of ham and bread off and nibbled on a few pieces. They tasted OK, but why the explosion? It was as if these weird powers were taunting her just to be cruel. What was going on? Raintree swore a curse as he read the report sent in from the field agents that evening. Incompetent fools; did he have to do everything himself? He picked up the phone and dialed. "Surveillance," said the reply. "It's me," Raintree said unnecessarily. Everyone at this facility knew his voice. "What is this about Ms. Packard being on detention?" "Yes sir," the agent replied. "When Ms. Packard wouldn't answer our questions, the principal felt that he needed to apply pressure to get her to respond. She's currently at her residence, along with her parents. We have infrared cameras and laser microphones recording everything that's going on inside the house." "Of course she's at her house you morons," Raintree explained harshly. "I don't need laser mics to know she's probably being grounded as we speak. You get that principal on the phone and tell him to rescind that detention and to personally call her parents and apologize for the mix-up. What's the point of surveillance if the subject can't go anywhere?" He slammed the phone down and looked at the clock in his office. The moving second hand seemed to mock him. It had been almost thirty hours since F67's last known dose of the psychosuppression drug cocktail. Add another ten for another wasted day of school ahead. And that was assuming Ms. Packard made immediate contact after school, which was far from certainty. My God... forty hours...if they didn't find her soon, there'd be no stopping her... "Hey Mike," Madelyn said as she walked into the school library. She knew that Michael was an early riser and liked to spend his mornings here when it was still quiet. "Hey Maddie. I heard about the detention. Did your folks give you grief?" "Actually that's the weird thing," Madelyn said. "When I got to school this morning, the first thing that happened was I got called back into Mr. River's office and he said I was off detention. He even apologized and promised to call my folks to tell them that he was sorry for the mix up." She shook her head. "It doesn't make sense." "Maybe it does," Michael said. He reached into his backpack and handed Madelyn a stiff flat gray sheet. "What's that look like to you?" Madelyn turned the sheet around and looked at it carefully. "It's a napkin...made of rubber?" "Silicate polymer," Michael corrected. "I took it from the coffee shop yesterday along with some of the silverware because I wanted to run a couple tests. It confirms a couple of things for me. For one, Angie isn't telekinetic." "Um... excuse me... we saw her blow up a coffee shop?" "Not a normal telekinetic," Michael elaborated. Madelyn looked at Michael with a puzzled expression. "I'm sorry; is there such a thing as a 'normal' telekinetic?" "Actually there is," Michael explained. "According to public records, there are about fifty known all around the world of varying degrees of abilities. Probably many more who aren't publicly known. Angie though is a molecular-kinetic. She doesn't move objects as objects. She moves atoms and molecules by altering sub-atomic bonds and valence electron shells." "Um... and for those of us who aren't planning to go to M.I.T....that means...?" "She changed the cotton in that napkin by bumping the carbon atoms up to the next successor in its molecular group; in this case, silicon." "OK, so what does that have to do with Principal Rivers canceling my detention?" "Angie said she was being followed by the government. She also said there was a councilor in the principal's office pushing her to join the Army, even though she's below legal age. Then it turns out that her parents were actually government agents, and she gets framed for their murder? It bugged me when I first heard it because all that together would imply a vast government conspiracy around her. And quite frankly, if she were just a normal telekinetic, then that really doesn't justify such a conspiracy around one person. The effort wouldn't be worth it." Michael paused, and then looked at Madelyn with a focused expression. "But if that person were a molecular-kinetic, who could also read minds, maybe even control them...?" He nodded at his own conclusion. "Then you have a really dangerous weapon; someone that justifies all that attention." Madelyn thought about the train of thought, and then looked around nervously and whispered, "You're saying... they got to Principal Rivers and now they're following me?" "You and Angie are like sisters. If I were them and I wanted to find where Angie went..." Michael nodded, "...yeah, I would." Madelyn looked worried. "We can't let them follow us. But we got to get some food to Angie. She can't last up in that cabin all by herself." Michael thought about it for a moment. "I think I have an idea about that. It might work, it might not, but it's worth a shot. Here's what we'll do..." The coaches' whistles chirped twice as the sounds of tackling faded in the background. Large heavy boys picked themselves up, offering each other their apologies, advice and encouragement. No, not boys, Madelyn corrected herself. Young men; some of them coming up to 260 pounds, and that was before all that protective gear each guy wore. Around the school practice field, several other students were also watching the field as they jogged around the track. A few hundred meters away, the subdivision road was busy with school buses pulling away for the afternoon. The cold air still seemed to carry the sounds of marching band music from the rehearsal that ended only a half-hour ago. Madelyn's calm demeanor didn't reflect what she really felt. She looked around; dozens of cars, scores of people ranging from students, parents, teachers, and pedestrians could be seen from the bleachers where she was seated. Any one of them or even several of them could be with the goons who were after Angelina. She watched as the football players wrapped up their practice with a final run around the track. She quickly homed in on the guys with the black "do-not-tackle" jerseys. It wouldn't do a team good if their quarterbacks ended up in traction because of a careless hit in practice. "Pete!" Madelyn called out, getting one of the player's attentions. "Hey Maddie," Peter waved back. One of the linemen gave Peter an elbow jab as he left the pack of sweaty players. Lucky dog the facial expression said quite clearly. "So, they make you starter yet?" Madelyn asked with a smile. Peter shook his head. "Wade's still the man. So what's up? I heard about what happened to Angie's folks. How's she holding up?" "Um... I haven't seen her since the nightclub," Madelyn said with a shake of the head. Peter looked at Madelyn warily. "You're taking it awful well. I would have thought the two of you'd be mourning together." "Nah, I'm not the mourning type," Madelyn said with a smile that she hoped didn't look too phony. You never knew when telescopic cameras or shotgun microphones were pointed at you. "You wanna go to a movie?" "Yeah, sure. Let me get showered and I'll meet you in the gym." Michael pulled his Nissan through the mall parking lot and checked his watch. He had suggested this mall because it had a parking garage, which hopefully meant no satellite coverage. Was he being paranoid, he wondered? And if not, then just how many people were following them? They couldn't follow every student in school, could they? He bit his lip; he knew Madelyn and Angelina would both walk through fire to help one other, so there was no talking them out of it. Still, he didn't really explain to Madelyn just how dangerous this kind of game could get. These guys were sounding like very serious people. If they thought it meant getting someone like Angelina back, they'd probably kill anyone who stood in their way. At the same time, they couldn't just leave Angelina out all by herself. In addition to getting supplies, Angelina's apparent lack of control really worried him. Being a freshman, and not one that ever showed much interest in science, she probably had no idea how powerful or dangerous her abilities really were. If she didn't learn fast, she could be a danger to herself and everyone around her. Michael turned his attention back to his watch. Digitals were so much easier to synchronize, he thought with a smile. Now all he had to do was hope that Madelyn was right on... The fire door burst open and Madelyn ran out of the movie theater, dragging Peter behind her. Peter had a confused look on his face. "What? The movie just started..." "I know," Madelyn said with a contrite expression. "Get in, we'll explain everything." "Mike?" Peter asked as he looked in the car. "Yeah, come on." Peter reluctantly got into the car and noticed Madelyn duck to the floorboards. "Get down Pete!" she urged. Peter shook his head and dropped below the car door window. "Is this some kind of prank?" Michael pulled onto the streets and drove quickly and smoothly. The movie was supposed to last two hours; hopefully the government guys who watched them go into the theater would stay dumb for at least that long. "Get comfortable Pete. This is gonna take a while to explain..." The surveillance agents watched from across the street with cameras and microphones. According to their men in the lobby, the movie was just getting out, so they expected to reacquire their targets any time. Inside the movie lobby, a pair of younger agents who could plausibly pass as college students watched the movie patrons exit the theater, with roughly half of them queuing up for the bathroom. Pretending to watch a movie preview on one of the theater's big television screens, they watched the patrons one by one. As the stream died down to a trickle, they looked at each other with worried expressions. "Check the bathroom," one agent ordered as he headed to the auditorium. In front of him, the janitorial staff was already beginning to clean the aisles of discarded popcorn, candy wrappers and half-empty cups of stale soda. The agent looked through the aisles one by one before his eyes drew to the heavy fire door at the rear of the auditorium. "Shit...!" he muttered and ran back to the lobby. "No joy," the female agent said as she came out of the bathroom. The male agent pulled out a communicator. "We lost them! Is the car still there?" Outside, the agents in the van ran out into the parking garage and looked around. They quickly found Peter's suburban. The lead agent looked around in frustration, even though he knew it was futile. "Damn it...!" He pulled out his communicator. "Base, this is Sparrow-1, we lost the target!" "That has to be the craziest thing I've heard," Peter said as they raced along the highway outside town. "It's true Pete," Madelyn said. "We saw her do all kinds of stuff." "Super powers aren't as odd as you might think," Michael reminded him. "European Freedom Force, Red Nova, Dark Saviors, all those weird robberies in town the last few months...super powers aren't exactly rare." "OK, I'll grant you that," Peter conceded. "But come on, the whole government's after Angie?" "We don't actually know it's the whole government," Madelyn admitted. "But you gotta admit something's going on. Why else would Angie's parents be government agents?" Peter crossed his arms with a dubious expression. "You only have her word on that. She could have been having a bad reaction to her diabetes medication." "Pete, you know better than that. For starters, when was the last time you saw someone who's supposed to be a class 1 diabetic drink a chocolate shake and not risk going into insulin shock?" Peter shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really know much about diabetes. That still doesn't mean there's a government conspiracy to get Angie. I mean, why would they target her in particular? You just said that telekinetics aren't that rare." "True; but a telekinetic just picks up big rocks and throws them, when it comes right down to it. Angie's a very rare, special case. She could turn lead into gold, or coal into plutonium. If she doesn't get control in some way, she could accidentally vaporize a city block." Peter took a moment to think about it, and then pouted. "Great... and you guys just volunteered my dad's cabin?" "We didn't have any other choice," Madelyn insisted. "We had to get her to safety." Peter shook his head and sighed. "So say all this is true. What are you guys going to do next? Have her stay there until the heat dies down? That's not exactly going to happen if she's charged with double-homicide, even if it is a frame-job." Madelyn and Michael glanced at each other in silence. Peter's point stung them both; neither had an answer. The whole situation had happened so fast; they didn't have time to consider "what next". The only thing they could do was cross their fingers and hope that things would work out. The surveillance offices were swarming with activity as Raintree looked on with a grim expression. It was one thing to let Subject F67 slip through the dragnet; she had telepathic powers the agents had to factor in. But now a pair of regular high-school kids had just made their whole division look like fools with a stunt that probably came right out of Scooby-Doo. It would have been laughable were it not for the national security implications of losing their collar on F67. "There's still no activity on the suburban," the lead surveillance agent reported. "We're going on the hypothesis that they swapped cars with a third party. We're checking the mall security cameras near all exit points from the theater auditorium. One thing's come up though; one of the cameras in the parking garage was apparently sabotaged earlier this evening. We've got no eyes coming or going from that location." Raintree shook his head with amusement and frustration. "Maybe we should just hire these children to run our covert ops teams," he said sarcastically. He then reminded himself that sometimes, amateurs could surprise experienced pros because the former didn't know what was supposed to be impossible and what wasn't. "What about our own camera teams outside the parking garage?" "They're going through the tapes now, but nothing. If they were smart enough to switch cars, then chances are they were hiding in whichever car they used to get away." "Alright, first, I want a team of ground agents sweeping that mall and the surrounding stores. Make sure they aren't hiding in some janitor's closet. Next, I want a list of every plate, make and type car of every student registered at that school. Cross-reference that list to every single car that left that mall in the last four hours. Every car that gets a hit on that list, I want tracked down. Get me SATCOM and tell them we need a satellite tasking order on this entire area." The Nissan managed to struggle to the end of the gravel road that led to the log cabin. The sun was already beginning to set and the woods were deep in shadows. As the car headlights got closer to the house, it was immediately apparent that the windows to the cabin had been shattered. "Oh man...!" Peter said. "Ouch...not a good sign..." Michael said with a sotto voce and a cringe. "My dad's gonna kill me!" Peter added lamently. The three of them got out of the car and headed towards the front door. Inside, they paused with surprise at the sight of various objects throughout the cabin floating through the air and furniture in disarray. As Peter and Michael stood frozen with shock, Madelyn rushed into the room where Angelina was lying on the couch. "She's burning up," Madelyn said as she put her hand on Angelina's forehead. Michael came over and looked Angelina over. "She's dehydrated. Pete, there's some bottled water in the ice chest in the trunk." Peter trotted back to the car and returned with the bottle. He tossed the bottle to Michael. "I'll go get the power and water going." Michael cracked the seal on the bottle and began carefully pouring the water into Angelina's mouth. "Slowly... slowly..." he coaxed. After several mouths of water, Angelina began to cough and slowly open her eyes. "God, I look terrible..." she whispered weakly. "You look great Angie," Madelyn whispered back as she caressed her head. "I can read your mind," Angelina reminded her. "No peeking," Madelyn chided. Angelina then looked over to the back door as Peter returned from the utilities shed. "No laundry machine, huh?" Peter crossed his arms in a deadpan smirk. "It's a hunting cabin. Grunge is part of the experience." Raintree paced the floor as the entire surveillance wing went over every single lead they could find. The monitors tracked leads and clues from a wide variety of sources. "There were a total of seventy-two cars from the school that came or went from the mall parking lot during the time window," the lead agent reported. "Of those, fifty-six of those cars went to their registered home residences; twelve went to another commercial location; restaurants, stores, and the like. We managed to find three on the road and have tails on them as we speak." "That leaves one," Raintree said. "Yes sir. We were about to ask for permission to put out an APB." Raintree pondered his options. The last thing he wanted was some overzealous highway state trooper running his target off the road if the kids decided to try and make a break for it. "Very well. But don't issue any specific warnings. Issue an order that the car is only wanted for questioning. We don't want to provoke another confrontation until we have our forces in position." "Acknowledged. Meanwhile, we have people at traffic control examining the stoplight cameras. We spotted the missing car on some cameras, indicating that the car went north to the highway out of town." "What settlements would be on the north-bound highway?" "There are several, but fortunately, most of them are pretty small. We're sending teams to every one of them with pictures for identification purposes, and satellites have been tasked to look for any unusual activity." Raintree nodded, but continued to watch the clock. It had now passed 60 hours since that previous dose; he made a note to visit Dr. Gruber to get an estimate on F67's power levels and Major Nichols to discuss tactical scenarios. Madelyn scrubbed the stains off the walls and floors. Broken kitchenware and furniture though was going to take more; she was already calculating what it was going to cost her to repair the damage. She sighed at the thought; so much for saving up for Spring Break. But it wouldn't be fair to leave Peter holding the bag for his dad's place. After all, it was their idea coming here in the first place. "How's it going?" Peter asked as he walked into the small kitchen. "It's coming..." Madelyn said then paused. "I'm really sorry about dragging you out here like this." Peter waved it off. "I guess this isn't the kind of thing you can plan for." "Probably not," Madelyn shook her head ruefully. "So did Angie convince you?" Peter took a deck of cards out of his pocket, put them on the counter and smirked. "We have got to take her to Vegas." Madelyn smiled. "You know, I don't think Angie's ever been to Vegas. I went once when I was twelve. Angie's folks wouldn't let her come with us though." "Guess it wasn't part of the government's agenda." Madelyn looked down. "It's still kind of hard to get used to that. I've been to Angie's place so many times, but I never really got to know Mr. and Mrs. Clancy. They were always so distant, even with Angie. I...I guess I always thought they were just being overly protective and careful, since Angie was always kind of sick all the time." "So was she always psychic?" Madelyn shook her head. "Nah... well....if she was, she never told me. Whenever she took her medicine, she could barely concentrate on anything, let alone read minds." She paused a moment. "Which I guess was kind of the point, now that I think about it." "So the government kept her drugged up all this time so..." Just then, a loud pop could be heard outside. Madelyn and Peter both looked out a window, then to each other. Peter shook his head. "I better go see what's going on." Outside, Peter watched with some surprise at the sight of rocks, logs, and debris flying through the air, with random pieces blowing apart or crumbling into dust. He stood back what he hoped was a safe distance as he watched Michael giving Angelina some instructions. "So you're saying not to grab stuff?" Angelina asked. "Exactly," Michael explained. "Don't think of a rock as a solid object. For you, it really isn't. Think about it as a collection of sand. Or better yet, a Tinker toy construction. To pick it up, you have to pick up every single spool with equal force without breaking the wood sticks. The way your powers work, if you just grab an object, you'll squeeze out the empty space between the atoms and break the molecular bonds." "You know, I've never seen a Tinker toy until just now, looking in your mind," Angelina said as she closed her eyes. "So, is that why all this stuff is blowing up?" Michael squirmed a little; the idea that his mind was being read so transparently was just eerie. "Matter wants to attain a state of stability. When you push the molecules into an unstable state, it's going to break apart into more stable components. Usually when it does that, it releases the energy that held the molecules together." "What about if I want to change stuff on purpose? You were the one who said I could turn lead into gold and stuff like that." "Ah...I think you'd better stick to just keeping stuff stable for now," Michael cautioned. "Walk, then run." "Hey Mike, don't take this the wrong way," Peter said as he watched. "I know you're probably the smartest guy in school, but what do you know about being a telekinetic?" "Me? Not a thing. Max Conrad though, knew plenty." "Who?" "Max Conrad, aka Maxwell the Magician? Robbed banks back in the 70s wearing a top hat and magician's outfit?" "I think I remember hearing something about that. Wasn't he the guy who'd wave his magic wand and pop bank safes open?" "Yep, that's him. He was later caught by Captain Amazing in '78, and did a stint in prison. He later found Jesus and went straight. After he got out, he wrote a book about his life. Anyway, it turns out he was a telekinetic. In part of his book, he described what it was like growing up different and how he learned to use his abilities." "Boy, you really thought this stuff out," Peter said with amazement. "And here I just thought you were just improvising bullshit from Star Wars." "Strong is she with the Force," Michael said with a grin and his best Frank Oz impersonation. "But first she must unlearn what she has learned." Peter shook his head and grinned. Angelina began to giggle at the joke. Then suddenly, chunks of levitating wood began exploding into flame as the rocks burst into shrapnel. "Shit...!" Peter said as he flinched and ducked behind cover. Angelina screamed and froze as bits of rock and fire slid around her lithe form. As she tensed up, the trees around her began to melt into tar. Michael ducked as a burst of flame singed his hair. "Angie! Listen to me! Concentrate! You're agitating the molecules. You gotta slow them back down!" Angelina nodded frantically and focused her mind. The air around the area instantly plummeted to frigid sub-arctic temperatures. The branches and leaves began cracking and splintering into crystalline ice. Madelyn ran out of the cabin as the chaos began calming down as Peter picked himself up and looked around. Michael panted with relief and picked up some of the debris. "What happened?" Madelyn asked breathlessly as she shivered from the cold. "I... I'm sorry," Angelina said. "I got distracted." "Yeah," Michael said. "To be more specific, you started breaking the organic compounds out of all the wood and oxidizing it with the oxygen in the air. The combustion probably distracted you further which caused a chain reaction with the inorganic rock." "Hey Yoda, can't you just say she started a fire like everyone else?" Peter asked as he rubbed his arms for warmth. "Angie, can you...like...heat things up a little without burning the forest down?" Madelyn asked as she panted from the cold. Angelina nodded and closed her eyes. The more she focused, the more she could feel the atoms and molecules in her mind. They were bouncing around slowly like ping-pong balls. Faster she thought. The air slowly began warming up; the last few hours of practice were beginning to show results. "Control, control, you must learn control," Michael said, imitating Frank Oz again. Angelina smiled and started chuckling again, only to slip as the air again began heating up to uncomfortable levels. "Uh oh...let's not start that up again..." Peter moaned. "Contact! We got a hot flash on sats!" the surveillance agent reported. Raintree and Nichols both gathered around the monitors as the satellite showed a multi-color picture of the surrounding area. The colors changed abruptly and flickered hot and cold. "Got it! Fifty miles north of the city--it's a hunting town. There's a log cabin in the middle of the thermal bloom." "What did we just see?" Nichols asked. The surveillance agent pressed a button and rolled the recording backwards, then restarted the playback. "There was a momentary flash of heat; estimate at 170 Celsius, then a few seconds later, the temperature dropped to minus-65 Celsius before returning to normal." "That's got to be her," Nichols agreed. "Deploy your men Major," Raintree ordered. "Bring our wayward little girl home." Peter loaded the empty ice chest back into the trunk of Michael Nissan hatchback. He took a look around to assess the damage. Upon second examination, things weren't as bad as he first thought, and they were getting better. He looked closely at the windows; Angelina had literally knitted the glass windows back into solid sheets, with some coaching from Michael. Inside, the furniture was restored to its original condition; if anything better than before. Earlier that morning, Peter actually had to suggest that they restore some of the wear-and-tear Angelina fixed in some of the older furniture pieces. If his father noticed the furniture's new mint condition, he would have been at a loss to explain the changes. "So what are we going to do next?" Madelyn asked as she came outside along with Michael and Angelina. Angelina looked down. "I don't know. Maybe if I knew who set me up, I could get them to confess and clear my name." "Those government guys you mean?" Peter asked. "That sounds kind of tough Angie," Michael said. "Even if you did find them, how are you going to get them to confess? Start breaking their fingers or something?" Angelina shifted uncomfortably. "I can...also...make people do stuff...with my mind." There was an awkward pause. "What kind of stuff?" Madelyn asked. "Um... pretty much all kinds of stuff," Angelina admitted. "The nightclub," Michael said with an epiphany. "I thought that was you." "Wait a minute," Peter said. "So Angie can read minds, control molecules, and make people do whatever she wants? Any other super powers you want to fess up to?" "Hey, Angie's not on trial here," Madelyn said defensively. Angelina shook her head. "No, that's it as far as I know." She looked at Peter dolefully. "It's scary, I know. I...I didn't ask for this. Everything I thought I knew about my life's been tossed away these last few days. Not long ago, there were days I could barely remember my own name. Suddenly, I'm hearing every stray thought from everyone around me. Stuff is blowing up every time I think about it. People are doing whatever I'm thinking of. It's like a nightmare for me and I can't wake up." Peter returned the stare before looking away. No wonder the government's after her he thought before abruptly noticing Angelina staring at him. "S-sorry...I-I didn't mean it that way..." Angelina looked back down and shook her head. "Forget it. Mike's already thought the same thing." Before Michael could ask, she added, "That I should be taken into government custody." "What?" Madelyn asked as she looked at Peter and Michael with indignation. "Wait a minute," Michael said with a defensive tone. "I never thought that you should be under government control. I admit I understood why they would try to get you under their control. But the last thing I'd want would be having you serve any government entity that's Machiavellian enough to take things to this level. If you ever did fall under a corrupt government agency, there'd be no limit to what they could do. We're talking about overthrowing foreign nations, conducting covert wars, manipulating the domestic populous, or for that matter, even the highest levels of power within the legit parts of our own government." "Angie, I don't know what other super powers you end up having and I don't care," Madelyn said firmly. "You're still the same sweet person I grew up with. You're family to me. All this talk about starting wars and controlling people; it's crap. If anyone's going to have all that power, I'd rather it'd be you than some evil government group." "Yeah," Peter added. "Just don't start leaping tall buildings in a single bound." "I wouldn't bet against her being able to do that actually," Michael added. Angelina stared out into the woods as Madelyn did a double take at Michael's comment. She then turned back to Angelina. "You OK, Angie?" Madelyn asked. "Go back inside," Angelina whispered. "What's up?" Michael asked. "Please," Angelina pleaded. "There's not much time." "What?" Peter asked lightly. "The evil black helicopters are coming?" As Peter made his comment, the faint sounds of helicopters could be heard just barely over the horizon. "You had to say it," Michael said with a deadpan expression. Major Nichols shifted uncomfortably in the battle armor. Supposedly it was going to give his troops a decent chance against his opponent, but it was sure uncomfortable to wear. "Target in sight Major!" the pilot said over the intercom. "Looks like there's a car in front of the cabin. Possibly more people are in the area." Nichols nodded, turned to his troops and gave a hand signal. "No witnesses!" He then turned to the pilot. "Start it up!" Angelina flinched as she felt the high-speed shells leaving the helicopter chain guns. There were thousands of them and they felt much stronger than the ones she stopped a few nights ago at the warehouse. Behind her, a translucent field of energy surrounded the cabin. "Nothing gets through," she willed the atoms in the air as they solidified into a shimmering wall. She had just formed the force wall before another set of molecules were launched at her. Bigger, slower, they were being propelled by thrusters and they had complex chemical molecules in their tips. The first ones detonated right as the thought rockets formed in her mind and another set of solidified atoms formed around her own body. The force of the impact threw her across the road and into a tree. Right next to her, another volley of rockets exploded right next to Michael's Nissan, exploding it into a ball of fire. She picked herself up; she could already feel Michael's dismay at the loss of his car. Another thing she would have to address, assuming she was still around to do so after this assault. Their tactics had changed; Angelina was momentarily confused by the contradiction. The soldiers in the helicopters wanted her alive, but were using lethal force this time. No gas or tasers or anything like that. Their tactics were apparently to keep enough pressure on her, gamble on her inexperience using her powers, and hope that she would collapse from the pressure. And if she let them rain death and destruction on her long enough, they just might succeed. But she didn’t want to just blow them out of the sky; that wasn’t a step she was ready to take, no matter what the risk. Mike, she mentally projected, how do you stop a helicopter without destroying it or hurting the people inside? Um... ah... Mike shook off the destruction of his car. Worry about that later, if they survived, he told himself. Choke off the fuel to the tail rotor. As long as it doesn't get blown off or stop too fast, an experienced pilot will know they need to land if their stabilizing rotor is going bad. Angelina silently thanked Michael for his advice and coaching. If he hadn't been here for the last day and a half, there would have been no way she would be anywhere near as capable with her abilities as this. Guns go away... she willed as the weapons and rockets on the gunships crumbled into rust. Rotors, slow down... she then commanded as stabilizing tail rotors began slowing to a quarter of their normal speed. "Shit...!" the pilot said as the warning lights began flashing. All the weaponry in the gunship went offline and now the helicopter was beginning to pitch and roll uncontrollably. Without the tail rotor's counter-torque, they couldn't stay in the air for long. "Crash positions!" he yelled into the intercom. Nichols cursed as all of the pilots issued crash warnings to their passengers. He saw the helicopter weaponry crumble into powder and it didn't take a genius to figure out how eight attack helicopters would all have the same catastrophic failures. He had expected a fight, but not this kind of subtle strategic planning. Was she getting help? "All teams, deploy for ground assault!" Angelina watched with nervous adrenaline. Not too shabby, she thought; no one was going to get killed. But the fight wasn't over; she began to focus on the chatter in the minds of the soldiers. Already, each soldier was going over their assigned duties and getting their weapons ready. They're coming... Angelina warned. Mike, how do you stop the following? Sonics, lasers, and particle cannons? You're shitting me... Michael tried not to mentally reply. He shook his head and thought about it. Sonics, easy, vacuum pocket around yourself. You won't be able to hear anything but no sound can get through a vacuum. Lasers? You might try refraction by condensing the air between yourself and the source to deflect them, but that's kind of tricky. Neutrino particle cannon? Depends...we haven't tested if you can control matter to the degree of elementary particles. Try and see if you can accelerate the lepton particle decay by disrupting the weak nuclear force holding them together. Angelina cried out in pain as the first beams of energy lanced across the force fields around her body. Most of the beams force were dispersed, but enough cut through to cause pain across her abdomen. Can you... dumb that down a little...? she asked frantically. "Sonics aren't doing anything Major," the lead squadron reported. "Cannon's tagging her good though, but we're having problems with the laser targeting." "Pour on the cannons then," Nichols ordered. "Get the restraints ready! If she falls, I want her neutralized fast before she can recover!" Peter, Madelyn and Michael all doubled-over in agony as the particle cannons continue to arc through Angelina's force field. They abruptly realized that a huge disadvantage when mentally linked to an inexperienced telepath under heavy assault was getting to share all the pain. Angie, screw the weapons! Peter urged through the pain. Take out the soldiers firing them! Didn't you say you can make people do whatever you want? Madelyn chimed in. Can't you put them all to sleep? Angelina focused her mind. First thing was first; she reached into Peter's, Michael's and Madelyn's minds and willed them to feel no pain. As she expected, the sensation of euphoria filled her mind, blocking her own pain and allowing her to concentrate more fully. Next, she mentally reached out into the minds of the soldiers and let her own thoughts reach out and connect to everyone in the surrounding area. The conflicting and painful chatter between discordant thoughts and emotions began to sing together in harmony in her mind. All the years of crippling drug-induced blindness vanished in a flash. The rush of ecstasy filled her body and soul. In an instant, she could feel every impulse, whim and thought of all the soldiers and her friends at her fingertips. Obey me, and sleep... she commanded. Seconds later, the sounds of battle faded, with only the helicopters disturbing the peace. After checking that there were no more threatening thoughts, she released her hold on the force wall protecting the cabin, and the door opened tentatively. "Is it over?" Madelyn asked. Angelina nodded. "I think so." Peter looked around at the battle damage and the unconscious soldiers. He shook his head. "Boy, if you ever get back to school, no one's going to pick on you ever again." Michael looked around and groaned. As the adrenaline wore off, more mundane matters returned to his mind. "Ah man... how am I going to explain this...?" Angelina walked slowly into the woods, drawn by a specific set of thoughts. In the woods ahead of her, the helicopters were still running while parked on the ground from their rough landings. One by one, Angelina picked her way through the soldiers before coming on one in particular. She snapped her fingers. Wake up, she commanded. Nichols opened his eyes and looked up at Angelina with fear. "I...I can't move..." You get to move when I let you. Angelina stared at him for a moment. Inside his mind, Nichols tried to shield his thoughts, but failed completely. You're the one who killed Mom and Da... Angelina trailed off and looked away. It was going to take her time to get used to the whole thing. "I had my orders," Nichols replied defiantly. You're a murderer, Angelina accused. Not just...Mr. Clancy and Miss Rogers, but all those other people. All for this... Project... she added in disbelief and grief. "We did what we had to!" Nichols retorted. "To protect people from monsters like you!" Angelina trembled at the accusation. It wouldn't have hit her so hard if it didn't ring so true. What were people going to think? Would they understand? Or would they see her as Major Nichols did? A monster; a weapon that needed to be harnessed or destroyed. Angelina shook her head; no, he was wrong. She was a human being, with free will, hopes and dreams like any other. She deserved the chance to live a life free from the meddling of any secret government agency. And most importantly of all, she wasn't a murderer. It was time to clear that up. Alright, Mr. Nichols, this is what's going to happen... "In other news today, police are reporting a break in the Clancy homicides. They report that a number of men have stepped forward, claiming responsibility for the crime. Now the police have refused to elaborate further, other than that they are still investigating all leads, and that they hope to solve the case as soon as possible." The van pulled up into the mall parking garage late at night in front of Peter's suburban before Michael, Madelyn, Peter and Angelina got out. Angelina made a subtle gesture before the driver drove off. "I swear, that is just creepy," Peter admitted. "Is he going to be OK?" Madelyn asked. "Yeah," Angelina confirmed. "He lives just across town, so we didn't detour him too much, and he won't remember anything when he gets back." "What are all the other folks in school going to think about this?" Peter asked. "No!" Angelina exclaimed. "I'm begging you! Please don't tell anyone! I don't want people to think I'm some kind of monster!" There was a long silent pause as they looked at each other. Madelyn nodded and gave Angelina a hug. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you." And you do need a bath... she thought whimsically. Angelina smiled at the addition. Behind her, Michael nodded and walked up to her. "You know, you better get some practice with those powers or us keeping quiet's going to be the least of your problems." Angelina nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry about your car. I'll make it up to you, I promise." Peter shook his head. "Well, seeing as you're asking and not just making us forget..." "Pete!" Angelina said with a hurt expression. "Hey, I'm just saying..." Peter said with his hands held up in a defensive posture. He sighed. "Yeah, sure, I'll keep quiet." The four of them nodded and took each other's hands. They then got into Peter's suburban. As they pulled away, Madelyn lightly asked, "So what's your costume going to look like?" "I'm not going to wear a costume," Angelina said as she rolled her eyes. "You have to," Peter added. "It's superhero union rules." "I...don't think they actually have a union," Michael added. "I'm not going to be a superhero," Angelina said as she shook her head. "Why not?" Madelyn asked. "You've got the figure for it." "Maddie!" Raintree walked through the corridors of the Farm with a grim expression on his face. It had been a frantic few hours of cover up and dissemination, not to mention the loss of so many personnel. Gruber had also confirmed his worst fears; as bad as things turned out, F67's power wasn't even close to peaking. Conventional brute force was no longer an option. It was clear that they would need another strategy to bring F67 into their auspices. He entered his office to examine his options; he was only mildly surprised to see someone waiting for him. "Come in Mr. Raintree," a harsh voice ordered. "What can I do for you General Garner?" "I like to think that I give my subordinates enough latitude to do their jobs. I know that, with projects of this nature, it's sometimes better not to know the ugly details. So imagine my surprise when I see a television report that one of your own operatives is spilling his guts to the police about committing murder and giving intimate details about the Project to the press." "We have that under control, General. I've already ordered our people in the police and the media to downplay the reports as paranoid delusions. Our cover stories are already providing proof that no such projects exist." "And the murders?" "Unfortunately, those are a matter of public record. The best thing we can do in that regard to is to ensure that those cases never reach trial." Sorry Major Nichols... Raintree thought. No hard feelings... "And what about the subject F67? Are you going to call in those little boys?" "The boys aren't ready yet. A little more training I think." "Then what do you have in mind?" "Follow me." Raintree lead Garner down another set of hallways into a set of laboratories. "I told Captains John Clancy and Ellen Rogers many years ago that I consider myself a good judge of personnel. And that I picked them because I felt that the two of them had the best chance to accomplish our very important and vital mission." They opened the door and Garner recoiled slightly in disgust at the sight in front of him. "Good...God... you've stolen the Clancys' bodies?" Gruber came forward from behind an environment suit. "Let's just say General that I have some theories about brain functions that can be accomplished, even at this late stage of the game," he said with a sinister tone. Raintree nodded with approval. "As I told Captains Rogers and Clancy, their commitment had to be very real and total, because the consequences would decide the fate of our country for generations to come. I fully intend to see that they fulfill that commitment." Garner shifted uncomfortably. "What...exactly do you expect to accomplish with this...?" "By this point in time, our darling little Angelina can probably pick out deception from any living mind around her. She can control their thoughts and alter their perceptions, which make conventional methods fairly obsolete. But an artificial mind... one based on someone who's not living anymore... well, let's just see what we can accomplish with a little tinkering with Mother Nature." |