Over the next few days the twenty chosen worked hard to strength themselves
in near machines. They were consciously aware of the beautiful daughter's
presence, when she passed between meetings and planning sessions with high-
ranking officers of various nationalities to look in on them as they
trained behind glass windows in the lower floors of their secret offices.
Many of them still wondered at her name, but a rumor ran among the older
ones that it was Angela, or Amy, or something along the A-line.
At last, after many weeks, which soon turned into tireless months, they met together, this time in the girl's private gym down below. It was quite the physical health center, well established with a lit pool and many workout devices, a couple of punching bags in each corner, and a small obstacle course in the back which she'd set up for herself. This time she dressed a little less street, wearing a blue tube top and a short tan skirt with her trademark black boots. Her hair was held back only by her sunglasses-she looked like Jennifer Lopez, perfect, chiseled, slim body and all.
"I have received word that the formerly jailed alliances my father had set free while he was still alive have requested to meet myself and my troops in Germany. As it is very cold, even in the summer, it should be known that snow is expected soon. We shall be traveling by plane, and then by boat into the small town where they are hidden for now. As the place is still very uncivilized and we want to look like little more than tourists (who would happen to speak very fluent German, at least the minority of high powers). Therefore I hope you have ridden a horse before now." She paused to chuckle. "As always you are to call each other and the rest of your superiors, including myself, by your chosen code names. I've received a list of those-some of you are very, erm, cultured."
At this she turned and withdrew a small photo from her back skirt pocket. The men close behind her in the circle could see that it was of herself at about age fourteen and her father Hans, in the snows of Berlin, her birthplace. "It will be good to come home." She whispered to herself, and her voice broke slightly as he studied his arm around her shoulder. She made sure nobody else saw the tear form in her lined eye but her heart and perhaps her mirror, if her makeup smeared.
At last, after many weeks, which soon turned into tireless months, they met together, this time in the girl's private gym down below. It was quite the physical health center, well established with a lit pool and many workout devices, a couple of punching bags in each corner, and a small obstacle course in the back which she'd set up for herself. This time she dressed a little less street, wearing a blue tube top and a short tan skirt with her trademark black boots. Her hair was held back only by her sunglasses-she looked like Jennifer Lopez, perfect, chiseled, slim body and all.
"I have received word that the formerly jailed alliances my father had set free while he was still alive have requested to meet myself and my troops in Germany. As it is very cold, even in the summer, it should be known that snow is expected soon. We shall be traveling by plane, and then by boat into the small town where they are hidden for now. As the place is still very uncivilized and we want to look like little more than tourists (who would happen to speak very fluent German, at least the minority of high powers). Therefore I hope you have ridden a horse before now." She paused to chuckle. "As always you are to call each other and the rest of your superiors, including myself, by your chosen code names. I've received a list of those-some of you are very, erm, cultured."
At this she turned and withdrew a small photo from her back skirt pocket. The men close behind her in the circle could see that it was of herself at about age fourteen and her father Hans, in the snows of Berlin, her birthplace. "It will be good to come home." She whispered to herself, and her voice broke slightly as he studied his arm around her shoulder. She made sure nobody else saw the tear form in her lined eye but her heart and perhaps her mirror, if her makeup smeared.
