Sergeant Walters and Ms. Tabitha were in tiptop shape when we arrived at the small private airport outside the Seattle limits. By the time we landed, his uniform was freshly pressed and he didn't look as if he'd boozed and whored nearly the whole trip over. Tabitha for her part was in a new blouse and if she was a little flushed around the edges, well, she did her make-up just right didn't she?
Petra, Nessie, Dante, and I hustled off the plane behind Pruney, eh, Sergeant Walters and marched off to an awaiting vehicle Walters called a 'damn minivan'. I didn't see anything damning about it; a model called a Ford Windstar, it had padded seats, individual heating and air conditioning, and a dvd/cd player.
Walters grumbled as he got in the driver's seat, ordering us to 'belt-up' and cursing in an impressive display as we four looked at each other blankly, trying to figure out the unfamiliar order. He showed us how to use the seat harnesses, which they really weren't, as they only had one strap instead of two, an unsafe feature to be sure.
"Super-soldiers my furry rear end," Walters groused, setting the van into gear, waving to Tabitha, and tearing away from the plane.
"Don't even know what a friggin' seat belt is…like teaching a chil-"
I smirked as I watched Pruney remember that we were children. With some more cursing (I was learning a lot of the forbidden words) he slammed in one of the CD's. The sounds of Leonard Skynard's Stairway to Heaven blared out of the speakers. I fought not to wince as the sounds assaulted my supersensitive hearing, but Pruney was oblivious, tapping on the steering wheel in time with the beat, humming the words under his breath.
Dante snorted softly, a sort of grunting sound, he wasn't too impressed and his eyes twinkled with what I realized was another prank.
NO! I signaled to him frantically. Not right now, not with HIM.
Dante pouted, his lilac eyes and full lips pouting, but he listened to me, surprisingly. That was something that had me thinking, hard. Even Petra seemed to listen to me, and he was supposed to be the C.O. on the mission, not twic. Were they listening to me because they were afraid I'd go all monster on them, or did they actually respect me as a leader? Me, a leader…. who did I look like, Zack or Jace?
We were coming out of the rural areas and into the edge of the city limits. This was a lot more fascinating than seemingly miles of endless homes and businesses. Some of the architecture was just amazing; some of them were like seeing a page right out of history with all the tall, arresting cathedrals and staggering skyscrapers.
My eyes were drawn to a large structure that seemed to rise above everything else; it brought one's attention for the sheer immensity and unusual design as anything else. I gave a gasp of appreciation and wonder.
"What's that?"
"No talking!" Walters snapped, making me realize that I'd spoken aloud.
"Sir, yes, sir!"
We stopped in traffic and I still had a great view of that imposing formation. Pruney was still glowering, but he surprised us all, even himself I think, when he answered my question.
"That's the Space Needle, six hundred and twenty five feet straight up, you can see for miles," he admitted, glancing over himself to see the monument.
"There's a gift shop and restaurant up top, one of the biggest tourist attractions of the entire state and city. Like Starbucks," he grinned suddenly, pulling forward to go with the flow.
"If you're lucky, the school you're assigned to might take you there on a field trip."
I didn't know what a field trip was, but if it let me see that impressive building the Space Needle up close, then I most definitely wanted to go on one. Something about it seemed to call to me; I wondered what it would be like to be on top of the world, or on top of Seattle at least.
We finally arrived at our destination, a modest looking set of apartments that was to be our home for the next one hundred and ninety five days. Ten of those days were not to be part of the school year proper; five at the beginning to prepare our cover story and get us familiar with some aspects of the outside world before turning us loose in the school and five more after the year end for detox and debriefing before our redeployment to our Manticore in Wyoming.
"C'mon kids, let's hustle!" Walters suddenly called out in a fake, cheery voice. Must have been his cover, I thought uncharitably as I grabbed Dante's bag and tossed it to him, seeing that Petra was handing Nessie hers, and we both glanced at each other as we grabbed our own gear and ambled after our now-beaming handler up a sidewalk.
We walked up the outside stairway access, heading up to the second story. The roof of the apartment building looked like a halfway finished third story, but it wasn't. It was one of those faux stories that gave the impression there was another level. He led us to the end of the gangway and stopped at the last door long enough to pull out a key card and open the door.
There were two people in the living room area, a man and a woman. The woman had this deep, flaming red hair that I somehow always envisioned Jondy as having if she'd ever be allowed to grow her hair out. She had a pair of glowing emeralds for eyes that glittered like precious gems in light, and a pert little nose on her peaches and cream complexion. She was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a green camisole with an overshirt that matched her eyes and did a good job setting off her skin and hair.
Her male counterpart was just her opposite. His skin was that light mocha mix that you only get when you have a parent who's white and the other dark. His eyes must have come from his white parent because they were a greenish-gray rarely sported by anyone dark. He sported a shock of deep brunette hair that had just enough curl and kink to it that shouted out darker half. A very attractive man and he wore charcoal colored cargo pants paired with a silvery sheer button up shirt halfway undone, a slate gray silky shirt underneath and dark colored shoes.
"This is Amanda Ferrell and her partner Wes McCabe. They're going to be your handlers for the next school year, your Manticore contacts when you have to report to Director Renfro of the Seattle facility in person or if you need to see a doctor. They will give you your personal assignments and you will obey them to the letter, understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good. Wes, Amanda, they're all yours."
Then Sergeant Walters walked out after turning over the minivan keys to the female, Amanda, picking up another set of keys for an apparently sportier car from the pleased look on his sourpuss face, and he was gone. There was a moment of silence that followed, as we didn't know what to do next. I just stood there at the position of attention waiting for my next orders.
Each handler was different, as I'd had several already, due to my unit's unique training. Some were fairly laid back, and others demanded that you keep to the rigid code set by Manticore. Until I knew which category my newest handlers were, I wouldn't give them any reason to report me for dereliction, and I noticed with some satisfaction that the others followed my lead.
"Well, now," Amanda drawled with a twang more pronounced than Nessie's had been. Hers was the real deal.
"Look's like y'all is stuck wit me and Wes, huh."
She stopped and looked at us all standing at perfect attention, shaking her head for some reason, sending that mass of curly, vibrantly red hair swishing around her shoulders. The action made me acutely aware of my newfound hair length and I had the most unbelievable urge to shake my own hair in response.
"First off, ya don' hafta stand so stiff unless ya'll is reportin' to Director Renfro. So…what is theta term I'm a lookin' fer? Ease…easy…. at rest, at ease! At ease, kiddies!"
I relaxed my posture slightly, tucking my hands into the small of my back, spreading my feet shoulder width at twelve inches exactly, and waiting for my next orders. Dante flanked my right, Petra my left, and Nessie was on Dante's other side, in descending rank order.
Wes and Amanda exchanged looks, lips twitching in a curious mix of amusement, pity, and dismay.
"This is going to take a lot of work," Wes spoke for the first time, a glint in his eyes that reminded me sharply of Dante or the Quad Squad. My eyes narrowed slightly as I took closer inspection of my current superiors.
While Amanda and Wes looked like civilians, the way they held themselves spoke of some training that was reminiscent of military as if they'd trained with them, but their relaxed manner suggested something that didn't require them to such a rigid code of conduct. Intelligence agents, or assassins, I mused as I took in Wes's stance and the set of his clothes, now that I was looking for weapons I could see just the slightest break that suggested a shoulder holster, and possibly another holster in the opposite shoulder for a cross draw.
I'd worked with a few once before last year, when on a mission with Sergeant Major Vaughn. There were a few Special Forces and federal officials I'd met, and these two had that dangerous edge about them that no civilian could ever match. That indefinable something that said while they'd laugh and joke with you at any second they would become this dark, dangerous predator given the proper stimuli.
Should have known Manticore would never let us go completely unsupervised, I thought wryly, and with a touch of admiration, much as I hated to admit it. Being under the supervision of Manticore staff was one thing; being under the supervision of federal and espionage agents working for Manticore was a whole other ball game. These agents were more unpredictable, hence their appeal and danger.
"So, let's see who we got. I'm assuming ya to be the big man in charge, X5-757," Amanda surmised as she stood in front of Petra.
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," Petra answered, but he didn't shout it, which was a vast improvement I thought. I watched Amanda warily from the corner of one eye while looking at her partner with the corner of the other. I didn't know what I was going to do if she hurt Petra, but I wasn't going to stand by idle either.
"Well, now, it seems they can be taught, Wesley," Amanda smirked toward her partner who gave an answering smile.
"Yes, so it would seem," he chuckled, and with the look she threw him, there was a personal story behind that. He managed to throw on an innocent look, but somehow, I don't think she believed him one bit. I don't doubt her, I didn't believe or trust him either.
"And this little lass is the second?" he motioned toward me, and I stiffened just a little bit. He seemed curious, as if having a female in a command position was rare.
Was it? I knew there were a few females who were in command positions, in fact, the majority of twic's back at our Manticore were female and there were even a couple female C.O.'s. Apparently, in the outside, a female rarely was in command or so it seemed.
"Yes, sir," I answered, purposely keeping off the first sir. My tone might have been just the littlest defensive, but hey, I was only partially human after all and I was proud of that promotion.
"Oh, a little defensive are we?" he mocked me and I cocked an eyebrow, but kept my eyes riveted ahead.
"Sir, yes, sir," I bit out, everything textbook perfect, but something about the way I did it screamed 'screw you, too'. It took him by surprise and he laughed.
"Oh, I think I'm going to like this one," he chortled, eyeing me in challenge.
"Hmm…yes, a girl after your own heart," Amanda said dryly, looking over at me.
"And you are?" she prompted.
"X5-452, ma'am!" Max, I thought savagely back. "Ma'am, should I repeat my full barcode ma'am?"
"No, that's okay," she said, a bit unsure for the first time. Good, I thought, but I kept this and everything off, slipping into my Manticore mask so fast and naturally it once again took the two handlers by surprise. What surprised them the most was probably the others reacting to the vibes I sent off. The second I slipped into soldier mode the others fell back on it as well.
Seven Five Seven may be the one assigned commanding officer, but it looks like they've chosen a leader for themselves, Wes thought, observing the young soldiers in front of him, more specifically, X5-452. That last was just pert enough, that he looked at her more closely, wondering if this was just an innocent mistake on her part as it appeared or if the Manticore kids weren't as mechanical as they all thought.
Amanda glanced over at her partner in crime (sometimes literally) and shared another look. So far, this assignment wasn't anything like they'd expected it to, whether for better or for worse remained to be seen. She did get the feeling though that 452 was being sarcastic, and if there was one thing Amanda Ferrell knew, it was sarcasm. This should prove interesting.
"And this is the little jokester," she continued, taking in the other male child. This one was just as striking as the C.O., only his eyes were an unusual shade of was that purple?
Oh. My. Heavens. He has purple eyes! At that she took another look at the first boy, the eldest, and she had a hard time keeping a gasp down and her neutral face in place. That boy, 757, had golden eyes! Well, more of a golden brown, but sheesh! She snuck a peek over at the other female, looking at her eyes. They were a crystal blue so light they were like a transparent gray. Out of them all, 452's eyes seemed the plainest, natural, but that's the word for it…seemed.
Right until you look into them, Amanda amended. 452 seemed to exude some air of confidence and an unknowing command that the others seemed to understand and obey on a subconscious level, even as she herself didn't realize it. Her eyes held a pertinence and level of just being alive that Amanda didn't see where the trainers got off saying that they weren't real.
Of course, that cold-eyed soldier mask was creepy yes, and if that's all these kids showed of themselves around the trainers and staff that was one thing. But Amanda Ferrell would never, ever, underestimate the fact that these kids, and they were kids, had a life and will of their own. 452 had a fire, a stubborn will, and the female part of her was thrilled that such a strong female was looked up to by her peers.
"And what is your name?"
"My designation is X5-918 ma'am," Dante answered, eyes focused ahead, but seemingly aware of everything.
Amanda just nodded and looked at the last of their charges, a sturdy female taller than 452 by a few inches but no less stunning. She had the look of a good soldier, dependable, and somehow she knew that this was one soldier who'd give her life for those in her unit.
"Designation?" Amanda drawled and was a bit taken aback when the girl sassed back in a drawl almost the exact same as her own,
"X5-678, ma'am."
Wes sniggered behind her and she shot him another look, this one unfriendly, and that shut the big oaf up. She frowned at Wes, but this time, it wasn't because he did something wrong (yet) but because she was unsure how to proceed.
"Designations are all fine and dandy back at Manticore where they don't sweat having a bunch of numbers to rattle off to make themselves appear smarter for having remembered, but here in the outside, people and even soldiers have names. My name is Wes, and that's Amanda. We can't very well keep calling you X5-whatever. So we need to get you names."
"Max," I blurted out the same time the others spoke up.
"Dante."
"Petra."
"Evanescence. I go by Nessie."
Both handlers gave us surprised looks and we had the grace to blush. I spoke up to defend my mini-pack.
"Ma'am, Sir, we decided to give each other names earlier on the ride here so we could further blend in to successfully complete the mission objective," I spoke calmly, keeping my eyes primed ahead.
"Really?" Amanda mused, sharing another thoughtful look to Wes, who had moved to stand next her looking at their charges.
"And who authorized you to do this?" Wes asked. "Just curious, as we weren't informed of any aliases you were to assume."
I didn't even flinch as I plowed ahead.
"I did," I raised my chin in the air just a fraction, but that was enough to be noticed by the observant duo in front of me. They waited expectantly for more but I didn't give any.
"I think she gave all the answer she's gonna to, Wesley," Amanda finally laughed, and we didn't relax, even as the two adults shared in some amusement.
"You did," Wes repeated, eyeing this slip of a girl. She had to be only eight years old, and she was short, but sturdily built. She may not get very tall, but she'd pack one heckuva punch Wes was willing to bet. Her wig had slight curl and wave to it, and brushed her shoulders, giving her Latino heritage front and center spotlight. Her lips would become full and pouting as she grew older and developed into her body and Wes realized she'd be quite the looker when she grew up.
Oh, yeah, this was definitely a girl after his own heart. Sass, spirit, strength, and good looks…what a soldier she would be.
"Yes, sir, I did. Sir." I wasn't going to apologize. FUBAR that!
"Excellent initiative, X5-452…or should I call you, Max?" Amanda asked with a wicked smile. I said nothing, just stared straight ahead. Let them think that, I thought deep inside. They will never know it's been my name for two years now.
"Well, that makes the first part of our job easier," Wes shrugged, turning around to sit back on the couch.
"I mean, all that brain power going into finding just the right alias to match you, you saved us a bunch of work. Kudos to you, Maxie poo," he grinned as he plopped himself down to slouch on the couch, one leg draped over the couch arm. This was going to be a long school year.
